Chapter 57: Wake, Awake
The voices seemed to come from far away, as if muffled by a dozen downy comforters. Cassandra didn't think there were a dozen comforters covering her; then again, it was so hard to tell. She thought the voices might be talking about her, and she tried to concentrate on what they were saying.
“I think I should kiss her,” one of the voices said.
“Kiss her?” A female voice. It sounded familiar. Cassandra felt sure she ought to recognize it.
“Yes. That is the traditional way to awaken a girl from an enchanted sleep. Strephon is nothing if not a traditionalist; it's what he would want.”
“Not bloody likely.” Yes, Cassandra definitely knew that note of amused sarcasm. Then why couldn't she place the voice?
“Then do you want to try kissing her yourself?” the first voice said.
The second voice giggled. “Ooo, that would really squick her out! Let me try something else first.”
A hand grasped Cassandra's shoulder and gave it a rough shake.
“OI! SANDY! WAKE UP! THE RENT'S DUE AND YOU'VE GOT TO GO TO WORK!”
That didn't make any sense. She'd just paid the rent last week. Why couldn't she see who was shaking her and shouting in her ear? Maybe it was because her eyes were closed. That seemed highly likely. Perhaps if she opened her eyes…
Cassandra opened her eyes. She was awake. Mostly.
“Cecily...?” she murmured.
Cecily released Cassandra's shoulders and gave her a hug. “I'm so glad to see you again, Sandy! It's good to be back!” Yes, it was the same old Cecily; except she had re-dyed her hair and was wearing a crop-top T-shirt reading “Elfame Bikini Squad” . Instead of lavender-colored, her hair was now a shade of aquamarine, and she had a pair of ornamental goldfish pinned in her hair. Wait, no, they weren't pinned, Cassandra noted; the fish were swimming in the hair. Perhaps Cassandra wasn't awake yet after all.
“I can't believe that worked,” Devon said, adjusting his sunglasses. He was wearing a floral print shirt, but carried his black trench coat draped over his shoulder. Sensible man. The weather was so chancy in these parts.
“It's how Sandy always wakes me up in the morning,” Cecily said.
“Well, all I can say is if Strephon can't manage a better enchanted sleep spell than that, then he ought to turn in his faerie license.”
Cassandra sat bolt upright on the divan. “Strephon! Where is he?”
“We hoped you could tell us,” Devon said. “He's not here.”
Cassandra leaned back on the divan and moaned. “Of course. He's at the Council Meeting.
“Which council?” Cecily asked.
“Very likely,” Devon agreed unhelpfully.
“It's called the Hidden Council. It's sort of a shadow government for all the witches and werewolves and bogeys and such in the city. Strephon wanted to go to this meeting and I thought we were going to go together, but at the last moment he... well he magicked me.”
“Don't tell me,” Devon said. “For your own safety, right? Typical. All that King Arthur and 'Boy's Own Stories' stuff have seriously warped his sensibilities.”
Cassandra got up from the divan. “Devon, can you take me to Strephon? I'm sure he's in danger!”
“Where does this Council meet?”
“I'm not sure.” She didn't think Strephon ever mentioned that part.
Devon waved his hand. “It's probably at the big castle. A lot of magical forces converge there. And if not, I can probably find the spot pretty easily.” He hesitated. “I think I'll want to nose around first before I bring you anywhere, though; you know, scout out the territory. If Strephon's in the loo or paring his toenails or indulging in some other bizarre mortal ritual, you know he's going to be pissed. Besides, I'm sure you two have a lot of catching up to do.”
He took Cecily's hand and kissed it. “I'll be back soon, mon chéri!” Then he turned to Cassandra and said, “Don’t let anyone into the house until I get back.” With that, he dissolved into a wisp of moonbeams and left.
Cassandra sank back down onto the divan and Cecily sat next to her. Cecily hugged her again. “I missed you! Did you miss me?”
“You were only gone a couple of days.”
“Really?” Cecily seemed puzzled. “No, it's been weeks and weeks, I'm sure of it! At least it seemed that way.”
“Strephon did tell me that time is kind of queer in fairy-land. And he also said he told Devon not to keep you too long.”
“Are you staying here with Strephon, or just visiting?”
“It's not what you think.”
Cecily grinned. “Then you are staying with him!”
Cassandra sighed and told her about her encounter with Philippe. “So you see, I didn't feel safe staying at the flat, and Strephon insisted that I stay here.”
“The miserable creep!” Cecily said. “Philippe, I mean, not Strephon. And how is it going with Strephon?”
“You mean apart from hexing me?” After a moment or two of sulking while Cecily patiently waited, Cassandra elaborated. “I thought it was going well. We've been comparing notes on all the magical stuff that's been happening. At times I thought he was really opening up to me. It was nice working together. And then...” Cassandra extended her hands mimicking a balloon bursting.
Cecily nodded. “A clear-cut Galahad Syndrome.”
“You made that up.”
“I did not. And even if I did, he still has one. He feels he has an obligation to Protect the Woman.”
“He's in a wheelchair.”
“Exactly. And so it drives him crazy. His heroic heart is fighting against the reality of his weak, mortal legs. It's kind of sweet, in a way.”
“It's annoying, that's what it is. And so now he's putting himself in danger.”
“Well, once Devon gets back, we'll have a chance to rescue him.”
“We?”
“You don't expect to leave me out of the fun, do you?”
“All right then,” Cassandra, conceding the point in order to change the subject. “Speaking of fun, how did things go between you and Devon?”
Cecily tried for a moment to keep a straight face, but failed. “IT WAS AMAZING! We danced on rainbows, and soared with dragonflies and rode on manticores, and we made love like demented weasels!”
“I knew that would be coming,” Cassandra said. Cecily giggled. “Was Devon better than Philippe?”
Cecily thought about that. “He's different.”
“Less dangerous?”
“No... not exactly. I think Devon could be very dangerous if he wanted. And he took me to some dangerous places.” Cecily paused thoughtfully and Cassandra could not tell if she meant that figuratively or literally. “There was one time,” Cecily continued; “Devon had zipped off to fetch me a bouquet of moonbeams or something, and this girl came up to me out of nowhere. Well, a fairy, I suppose. I think pretty much everyone we met there was a fairy of some kind. She had green skin and leaves in her hair and eyes like that weird drink Victorian poets and goths like.”
“Absinthe?”
“Yes. And she asked if I'd like to join her in some fun. Or something. I can't remember her actually saying any words; just that she wanted me to come with her and all I could do was drink in her absinthe eyes. And just then Devon came up behind her with this serious concerned look on his face, and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned just enough so I could see a bit of her back, and there was this huge, deep cavity running all the way down her spine, from her shoulders down to her bum. She was hollow, just like an old tree, and inside she was all dark and squicky. Well, I gave a kind of squeak and Devon laughed and the girl gave him such a look. I could tell that she had wanted to do something nasty to me and not the fun kind of nasty. Then Devon made a joke and led me away from her, and I realized I'd just had a narrow escape and that Devon saved me.
“There were a couple other times where I almost stepped somewhere I shouldn't, or nearly broke some other rule of fairy etiquette and Devon kept me from falling. Thinking back I can see that now. It wasn't obvious at the time, though.”
“I think Strephon made Devon promise to keep you from harm,” Cassandra said.
“I'm just glad he didn't tell Devon to protect my virtue too.”
“He probably knows that ship sailed long ago,”
Cecily did not even try not to grin. “But like I said,” she went on, “Philippe is different. Both Devon and Philippe are fun and exciting, but Devon likes to do things with me while Philippe does things to me. Devon makes me happy, but Philippe makes me happy. Does that make sense?”
A couple days ago, Cassandra would have said, “No,” but having been on the receiving end of Philippe's attentions, now she thought she understood.
“When I'm with Philippe, I feel like he's the center of my universe, but when I'm with Devon, I feel like I'm in the center of his. Only...” Cecily's expression grew wistful. “It's not true. It's all a game to him, a role he's playing. He pretends to be my dream lover, and he's everything I could ask for, but he doesn't really care for me; not the way Strephon cares for you.”
“You've barely even met Strephon!”
“I've seen how he looks at you, and I've heard how you describe him and what Devon says about him. Yeah, he cares about you.”
“He certainly is protecting me,” Cassandra grumbled.
“I think Strephon and Devon have more in common than I thought. Or maybe than either of them would admit. They're both protective, and they both act like gentlemen.” Cecily saw Cassandra's skeptical look and added, “Okay, a sarcastic gentleman.”
Cassandra thought back to her conversation with Strephon about souls. “Maybe if you try to act like a gentleman long enough you start to become one.”
That sounded stupid to Cassandra, even as she said it; but Cecily just looked wistful again and said, “It’s funny, innit? I’ve always thought that what I wanted from a guy was someone who was fun and good in bed and would show me a good time, and Devon is all that. But when it comes right down to it, all the glorious time I spent with him was just like a weekend fling.”
Cecily became suddenly earnest. “This is really Sunday? We really were gone only a couple days? “
Cassandra nodded.
Cecily sighed. “Then that’s all it was. A weekend fling. Somehow I feel like I’d like something more.”
“You’re just insatiable, that’s all.”
“No… I think your sense of responsibility is rubbing off on me. Ma always said I should be careful of friends who were bad influences.”
NEXT: Bona Fidos
