Beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and picturesque facade of the City of Redemption lies another city; a community of dark and ancient magic populated by creatures of the night.
Strephon Bellman, a semi-immortal half-fae, has been commissioned by his aunt, the Queen of the Faerie, to investigate fae activity in the city. In the process, he has become involved with a mortal reporter named Cassandra True. Cassandra has recently started a new job, writing for a large local paper, the Redemption Morning Star, and is working on a story about an upcoming Gilbert & Sullivan festival; but Belladonna Morrigan, a fixture of the festival she was interviewing for the story, has sinister designs of her own.
Dark Redemption is an Urban Gothic Fantasy which will be running in weekly installments Wednesday evenings. Previous installments can be found linked at the Dark Redemption Index.
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Chapter 23: Things Are Seldom What They Seem
In Which Strephon reads the paper and receives news of an unexpected sort, and Miss True awakens in an unpleasant situation.
Strephon sat in his study, rereading the Morning Star. He read the newspaper every morning as part of his inflexible daily ritual but rarely returned to it. Tonight, he decided to make an exception. He poured meticulously over every paragraph; he scanned headlines looking for patterns. If Simon Knox truly was up to something sinister, it would probably involve his paper in some way. And Cassandra. He drove the thought from his head. No. It was conceivable that the newspaper might contain some clue as to what Knox and Melchior had planned.
At least, so Strephon reasoned. After his third pass through the paper he could find no clues whatsoever, unless it was the absence of any coverage of supernatural occurrences.
Mrs. Hudson, his cat, jumped onto the table and gave an aggrieved "Miao!"
Strephon scratched behind her ears soothingly. "All right, Devon, you can show yourself," he said loudly.
A gaunt, pale figure with dull, leaden eyes materialized before him.
"Ah. You aren't Devon," Strephon said.
"I bear a message from Morrigan," the apparition intoned.
"Morrigan? Belladonna Morrigan?" Strephon felt a twinge of dread. He hadn't heard that name in ages.
"If you have any regard for Cassandra True's well-being..."
"Cassandra? What about her?"
The apparition wavered uncertainly. Apparently it wasn't good at answering questions. But it re-solidified and continued. "...You will come to Fellwood in half an hour. Come alone, or your lover will die."
"Now see here, Cassandra is not my... Wait! Don't go!"
It was too late. Having delivered his message, the apparition seemed to melt, thaw, and resolve itself into adieu.
Strephon crumpled the newspaper in his hand. "Curse you, Morrigan! What are you doing?" He wheeled himself over to the telephone. Before he could pick it up, Devon appeared before him.
"Who was that who just apparition? He looked like a minor fae. Is he a minion of Melchior's?”
"Go away, Devon. I haven't the time for it." He dialed the telephone.
"Something's the matter. Who was that?"
Strephon wheeled sharply to face him. "That was a messenger from a witch named Morrigan. She's an old acquaintance of mine who bears a certain grudge against me. She has captured Miss True and demands I come see her. Damnation, why doesn't she answer?"
"Calling Miss True? Maybe then this witch does have her."
Strephon did not answer, but slammed down the receiver.
Devon continued. "This could be a good thing, you know. You wanted her out of your life, didn't you?"
"I wanted her out of danger!"
"Well, it seems she's quite capable of getting into trouble even without your help, doesn't she."
Strephon glared at him. "Are you going to get out of my way, or are you just going to continue to make sardonic observations?"
"I'm going to help you, that's what I'm going to do."
"I do not need your help."
Devon laughed. "You certainly do! Besides, what would the Queen say if I let you get killed? Or your mother for that matter?"
"Bother my Mother, bother the Queen, bother Morrigan and all meddlesome females!" Just then the doorbell rang. Devon answered it and saw Tobias Simms standing at the door. "Gran told me Mister Strephon would be needing a ride about now. Is everything all right?"
"Ah," Devon said, turning to Strephon. "A message from yet another of your female admirers."
* * * * *
Morrigan sang to herself as she worked, carefully removing the silver casting from its mold: "Things are seldom what they seem; skim milk masquerades as cream..." The charm had come out perfectly: A hawthorn leaf, impaled by a thorn, cast in silver. It was exactly like the amulet around her own neck, except that hers was cast in gold and set within a steel ring, of course.
She noticed the girl beginning to stir. That was good. Having her awake when Strephon arrived would provide him with that much more incentive. "Hello, ducks," Morrigan clucked as she threaded the charm upon a fine silver chain. "I hope you had a pleasant nap."
Cassandra moaned and tried to move. She was lying on something hard and cold which rocked as she shifted position. Opening one eye, she saw bars before her. She was in huge birdcage, suspended from a hook on the ceiling. A panicked grab for the cage’s iron bars only made the oscilations worse.
Morrigan smiled. "Don't thrash about so, ducks. You'll make yourself giddy, you will."
"What do you want? Why have you done this to me?"
The old crone hobbled over to the cage and prodded the bars with her finger. "You have been touched by the Fae."
"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Cassandra retorted. But then she thought of all the weird things that had been happening in the past week: the wolves, and the computer game, and the ghost, and the dreams. Ever since she met Strephon...
"Don't you?" Morrigan rocked back and forth on her heels and let her attention wander to the ceiling. "A many years ago, when I was young and charming... I was once, you know; as fair and as charming as you are now... I too loved a fae; a handsome faerie named Strephon."
"Strephon?"
Morrigan's gaze darted sharply back to Cassandra. "But he spurned me. He rejected my love. He crushed me. Do you know what that means?"
"If you mean have I ever been dumped before, yes, I suppose I have," Cassandra babbled desperately. Strephon a fairy? Vampires and werewolves were one thing, but fairies? It made her think of the Nutcracker and Disney movies. Byron’s theory about space aliens seemed more likely. And yet...
Morrigan grew angry. "No! I am talking of no mortal rejection. He was one of the Fae, and I loved him! But he spurned my love! Ever since, I have sought a way to win him back. And now I shall!"
Cassandra cringed, but she couldn’t move much without setting the cage to swinging again. She needed to concentrate. Concentrate!
"I have learned much about the Fae," the crone confided. "I have even managed to capture a few. You have seen my servants, Wisp and Banshee." She held the amulet she had made before her. "My sweet Strephon will come to rescue you. And when he does, I shall make him mine, just as those others are."
"There must be some mistake," Cassandra half stuttered, half begged. "Your Strephon can't be the same person as my Strephon— I mean --" But Morrigan pounced on her mistake.
"He's not yours! He will never be yours!" Morrigan clutched the amulet tightly in her fist. "True, many long years have passed and I have grown old and grey while he still remains as youthful as ever. He is a Fae, did you not hear me? But tonight... tonight he shall become mine!"
The crone turned back to her table and resumed working on the amulet. Cassandra felt her grip on the bars grow numb with the certainty that Belladonna Morrigan intended to destroy her and Strephon too. All Cassandra could do is watch and listen to the old witch croon a delirious little tune.
"If that is so sing derry-down-derry
It's evident, very,
Our tastes are one;
Away we'll go and merrily marry
Nor tardily tarry’‘Til day is done!"
NEXT: To The Rescue