Part 9 (1/2)
Aw geez. Erase. Scribble. SO WHY BROWNIE WANT US TO FIND.
”Yeah,” Rhonda said with a nod. ”Good point. And I think we mentioned this to each other--but I got the distinct impression we --or rather Zoe --was dealing with two different camps in that restaurant.”
Mom shook her head. ”What do you mean?”
I nodded to Rhonda to talk. Easier for you, dude.
”Like we said, when we got there Dags and Zoe said they saw two of the little b.u.g.g.e.rs and they tried to trip us up the stairs --but then a third one showed Zoe where the papers were.”
Tim said, ”You think there were two different pairings of Shadow Folk? Two different kinds?”
I nodded. I definitely felt a difference in them. The first were nasty and the second were nice. But I didn't scribble this down.
Nona nodded. ”It's possible I guess.”
Dags cleared his throat. His voice sounded thin and small. ”I have a really weird question --” he looked around. Everyone was listening. ”You said earlier that Shadow Folk --or the kind we think of as Brownies --weren't originally human?”
Mom shrugged. ”That was the feeling comment. According to the book, they could have been.”
”So,” he shrugged. ”If I'm understanding any of this--it is possible to turn someone into a Shadow Person?”
Rhonda s.h.i.+vered. So did I. That thought was just --well --oogie.
Mom shook her head. ”I don't really know. The book says they're humans touched by the elements. I don't know how you'd do that. What kind of ritual or event would happen? But if there is a way to turn living people in to Shadow Forms--” she made a face. ”I think it would call for the death of the living victim. Since the Folk live somewhere on the Astral, Abysmal or Ethereal.”
”Well, that would make sense if you considered the transmitter theory we had. If their essence resided on the Astral, Abysmal or Ethereal planes, then we don't have the filters to see their true forms. Thus we get shadows.” Rhonda said.
Jemmy grunted. ”I say they're on the we-don't-go-there plane.” She s.h.i.+fted in her chair. ”But I'm curious, boy, why you asked that question?”
Dags shrugged. ”I think it's because --while we were upstairs--and Zoe was following that one shadow around --I got a really familiar vibe from it.”
”Vibe?” Mom said.
Rhonda patted her hand. ”He got a feeling from it.”
Mom shot Rhonda a ”watch-it” look. Hey --now I know where I get that frown. The one Daniel said reminded him of an evil puppet.
Sigh. Daniel.
Tim spoke up. ”So --and correct me on this since I'm trying to follow the conversation over a period of days --are you saying you recognized one of the Shadows?”
Dags shook his head. ”Not the first two. Those felt wrong, kind of like the atrium felt in the hospital and the symbols immediately went active and I blasted them,” he held out his hands. ”All kinda--”
Scribble. OOGIE.
Dags nodded and pointed to my board. ”Yeah, like that. But afterward when we realized there were more Shadows in the loft, that third one felt... calmer.”
”No, not calm,” Rhonda said with a tap to her chin. ”It felt like desperation to me.”
My stomach growled. I really needed food.
Nona held up her hands. ”Wait...you blasted the first two away? What do you mean by blasted?”
Uh-oh. That's right. Mom didn't know about Mr. Bartender here and his freaky palm-powered powers.
This should be interesting.
I finished up my tea as Rhonda and Dags tag-teamed filling mom and Jemmy in on his tattoos and light power.
Mom's expression caught my attention. ”Darren...” that was so mom, calling him by his given name and not his nickname. She held out her hand. ”Let me see them.”
Dags offered her his palms, face up.
I watched her clasp each hand in her own and then she rubbed her thumbs in the palms. The circles glowed a faint blue, exposing their details. Dags' closed his eyes and winced as if he were in pain.
”You do realize you're wide open,” she arched an eyebrow at him as he focused on her face. ”With these symbols cut into your skin--they're like an Open House sign for just about any un-fettered creature.”
”Open House?” Dags swallowed.
Jemmy nodded. ”Boy--this Bonville? Sounds like he was planning on using all four of you Guardians as sacrifices.”
Rhonda sat forward. ”For what?”
Jemmy smiled. ”That, my dear, is exactly what we have to find out.”
Nona smiled. ”Most of these gitchi-goomie cults or groups use their books like diaries, recording everything from spells to meeting minutes in them. I'll bet if we find their grimoire, we'll know what Bonville's up to.”
Grim-who?
Dags grinned at me as he took his hands from mom. ”It's kinda like Rhonda's book here,” he pointed to the Big Honking Book of Everything. ”Like a Witch's Book of Shadows. It'll have all their spells and secrets in it.”
Oh.
”Let's see if I can recap,” Jemmy said with her hands on the table. ”Zoe got a request from a hostess at a bar/restaurant in Roswell. Dags here actually works there as a bartender. One of the co-workers was tripped and ended up in the hospital and the manager refused to pay. Dags is actually owned by this Magician's group and they're trying to suck him back --and the Shadow Folk in the restaurant who are accused of tripping people and playing jokes actually helped you find these doc.u.ments.” She pointed to the papers in front of Nona. ”Did I leave anything out?”
Sounded about right.
Nona spoke. ”Jemmy and I will focus on why these doc.u.ments are important. I can sort of decipher the first page, but the other pages are just jibberish without the secret decoder ring.”
Hehehehe. I love my mom.
Sometimes.
”I suspect that the missing wife, as well as Maureen and the others, learned of Bonville's fiendish plot--because you know Magicians always have fiendish plots--and he killed them or did something to them. Dags --let me and Rhonda do something about those tattoos. In here you're fine, but out there you're done for.”
Dags blanched.