***
Chapter Three: In Which Bea gets a Visitor and Sarah gets a Lesson
Theme Music; Beautiful Stranger by Madonna
***
At first, Sarah had wondered about the wisdom of being set down at the edge of the forest in the middle of the night. This was a Fae forest and probably just chock full of night dangers.
Already she'd glimpsed disembodied lights bobbing their way throughout the forest; Will o-the Wisps unless she'd missed her guess. There had been two, count' em, shadowy strangers beckoning her off the sketchy path muttering something about a badly injured brothers. Considering they'd both been saying the same -exact- line she ignored them. On passing lake a magnificent black horse had surged out of the water and stood proudly beside the path, practically begging to be ridden. Sarah trudged on, ignoring the Kelpie.
That had been hours ago by Sarah's internal clock, but the starry night sky over head showed no signs of day break. Maybe it was always night there?
Sarah stopped to readjust the rucksack straps so they would stop biting into her shoulders.
"You're a bit more than I expected."
Sarah whirled towards the sound of the voice. A tall man lounged casually against one of the huge trees near the path she'd been following. He was about a head taller than Sarah, with a lean, almost whippy build. He had long dark brown hair that he'd caught back with clever little pewter clasp. He was dressed in dark brown leather pants with half height boots lined with fringe that matched that on his long vest. His loose white shirt, reminiscent of Jareth, had knots of ribbons at the shoulders that fell down in cheerful waves to his elbows. A worn, but serviceable sword was strapped to his belt along with a pair of throwing knives and what looked to be a blow dart tube.
In his long tapered fingers he held a carved wood flute decorated with more ribbons to match his shirt. A rucksack like Sarah's own lay by his sensibly booted feet with a dark green cloak tossed over it.
"Why are you, and why are you bothering me?" Sarah snapped, slightly irritably. Walking through a creepy forest at night with no clue as to where you were going did wonders for anyone's temper. Just wonders.
"Feisty, I can see why Jareth likes you."
The man stepped closer and Sarah was able to see him a little bit better in the ambiguous light that seemed to shroud the path. His chiseled features seemed... familiar somehow. She couldn't put her finger on where, but Sarah -knew- she'd seen this strange man before... or someone very much like him.
"My name is Gawain." He said politely. "I am to be your guide... here, I believe this is what you're looking for." He reached into his vest and withdrew a small charcoal outline sketch... of a horse. The paper made the stallion white.
"You're the white horse?" Sarah asked incredulously.
"Indeed I am!" Gawain blew a short flurry of melodious notes on his flute. "I also have your next clue!"
Sarah's lips twisted in grim humor. "Okay, let's have it."
Gawain chuckled and shook the no-no finger. "Not yet! First we should get out of the Night Ring. The outermost edge of Leihaedrielle is the most dangerous, We'll continue your quest in the Sunset Strip." He tossed his head in a none too subtle gesture indicating that they should continue.
"Wait!" Sarah huffed. "Why should I trust you?"
Gawain chuckled as he lifted his rucksack. "Well, allow me to put this the way your dwarf friend did once... what choice have ya got?" He did a fair imitation of Hoggle's gruff no-nonsense tones and startled a laugh out of Sarah.
She sighed and caught herself on a tiny feminine giggle, something she thought lost to her forever. "Can't argue with that twisted little bit of logic. Well, let's go."
Gawain met her strides easily. "I knew you'd see it my way."
***
Rap! Rap!
Bea floated through the door of her bedroom without waiting for the door to open for her. She glared at the front door in annoyance.
"Who in the dang-blamed blue blazes is hour?" she muttered to herself as she floated up to the door to peek out of the spy hole. It couldn't be Sarah, the door would have just unlocked and let her in, the same went for any of the neighbors. There wasn't a soul in the complex who didn't know about Bea.
The was a tall, dark man standing outside of the apartment. A very attractive one at that, Bea noticed in wry amusement. He was only slightly taller she she'd been before she'd left the mortal plane with dark chocolate skin and eyes to match.
"Can I help you?" Bea asked over the small intercom Sarah had installed for Bea. Like everything else in the apartment, it had shortly developed sentience and pressed its own buttons. Very handy when you had no substance except a very strong telekinetic talent... but that was more suited to throwing couches that fine, delicate things like pressing buttons.
The man winced. "I'm sorry, I'm looking for Sarah William's apartment?" He had one of those deep, rich baritones that was just heaven to listen to. Bea sighed, -Now- she found a guy with a voice like that! Why not twenty five years ago?
Bea frowned. "Ya got the right place, can I take a message? You might say she's... stepped out for a bit."
The African man on the other side of the door frowned minutely. More in annoyance than any personality flaw. "I'm sorry to be calling on you so late..."
Ain't a problem when you don't sleep no more, baby. Bea thought dryly. I ain't got no qualms about listening to your voice, you could put James Earl Jones outta business!
"... but I'm her new supervisor at Camco Corp. and I was in the area and wanted to check and see if she was all right, since she didn't call in today. I understand she and my predecessor... ah, had some problems between the two of them and I'd like to see if she was..."
The door suddenly swung in and Bea wasted no time in popping into the kitchen before Mr. James Earl Jones the third saw a see through woman at the door. She silently cursed the damn front door, and made a note to have a good long heart to heart with it.
He stepped in, cautiously. "Ma'am?" he went very still. "What is the..." his dark brown gaze swept the room, settling on every piece of furniture in the place. "Madre de Dios... everything in here is..."
"Alive?" Bea asked quietly. She didn't take a chance on going visible... but there was something about this guy, she just couldn't worry.
"Ma'am? Where are you?" he swallowed. "Am I talking to a ghost?"
"Something like that." Bea murmured. "Poltergeist to be exact, been so for twenty years."
Amazingly enough, the man relaxed. "Oh, for a moment there... a ghost, I can handle ghosts." He cleared his throat. "Please, could you come in here... or at least let me see you?"
If she'd still had a body, she would have blinked. Maybe... Bea took a chance and bent the light waves around her presence so that Whoever he was, he could see her. "My name's Beatrice. Call me Bea."
"Malcolm... Malcolm Aramus." He started to offer her his hand... but blushed halfway through. He started to retract it, but seemed to think better again...
Bea chuckled, if she didn't say something, he might keep moving his hand back and forth all night. "Don't worry about it, Mr. Aramus. Sarah is going to be on an extended leave, she might not come back at all." Bea paused with a slightly nasty smile. "In fact I hope she doesn't, she doesn't deserve what your company puts her through. That old bastard who died harassed her, and systematically shorted her pay, and her benefits! Where she is, is where she belongs!"
Malcolm flinched. "I've been going through Benson's papers all day... I know what he was up to. I was going to offer my condolences to Ms. Williams and offer to reimburse her for the damages..."
"So she doesn't sure the pants off your company?" Bea guessed.
"Now don't put words in my mouth!" Malcolm gritted out. "I saw that there had been an injustice done, would you have expected me to just ignore it? I'm not the bad guy here!"
Bea shrugged flippantly. "Whatever, what I want to know is why the apartment suddenly let you in? And how you knew, just by looking that the furniture was sentient."
Malcolm flinched. "It's a... family talent. We always called it the shining, and that was before Stephen king wrote that novel! I can see things, sometimes. My sisters hear people thoughts... I'm better with places and dead things.. er, ghosts I mean."
Bea cocked her head. "Ain't that something? Well, Mr. Aramus. Now that you're here an you know about the peculiarities of the place what do you plan on doing? I hope, for your sake, that it isn't call a tabloid and make some quick cash." She paused to let her ever present aura turn a menacing yellow-green. "That movie wasn't all fiction you know. I can manage some stuff that would turn your hair white."
Malcolm bristled. "Why in hell would I do that? I'd just be embarrassing myself and you while I was at it, I got better things to do than jeopardize my career by making a fool of myself!" he frowned. "I came here to check on Ms. Williams, if she's not here then I'll go."
Bea shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat, feel free to drop by again... when you don't have an agenda and it ain't 11 fricken' thirty."
She watched the tall man storm out, the door shut quietly behind him. She snorted quietly and looked at the apartment around her. "You like him, don't you?"
Incriminating silence.
"Well!" she huffed. "can't say I see why! Stuck up little brat... I got shoes with better manners..." ... but still... he hadn't run screaming into the night. He and Sarah had been the only ones Bea had ever encountered who could deal with her being as she was.
"Crikey." She muttered. "I really put my foot in it, didn't I?" she shook her head. "I can't imagine but what my Mama wouldn't have said." She shrugged. He'd be back... sooner or later.
She'd apologize then.
***
Night gave way into day.
Sarah looked back over her shoulder, it was still night a few meters behind her, but directly over head the sky was all warm and pink like a perfect sunset... only without the sun.
"Is this what you meant by 'Sunset Strip' and 'Night Ring'?" she asked Gawain, who was waiting for her a little further up the road.
He nodded. "The underground plays by its own rules, unlike the Aboveground where conformity is the norm. I suppose you remember how the time of day seemed to differ wherever you happened to be in the Labyrinth? No? Well, Leihaedrielle is no different. The closer you get to the center, the brighter and closer to dawn it will be."
Sarah frowned and resumed walking, matching Gawain's long pace. "But it was day outside of the Labyrinth when I was there, then night, then evening..."
Gawain shrugged. "Well, different parts of the Labyrinth are at different cycles. Leihaedrielle keeps mostly regular, but there have been... anomalies known to happen. Especially when the Sorcerers have been really going at it."
"Sorcerers?"
Gawain blinked. "That's right, you wouldn't know about that." he cleared his throat. "Well, apart from the Fae, there are two kinds of Magic users in the Underground. They aren't as powerful, but they're a hell of a lot more organized. The Fae just bicker and squabble a lot, and I suppose that is for the best."
He paused to sigh. "I suppose you're aware of the theory that energy can never be created nor destroyed?"
Sarah nodded. "Yes, I learned about that in chemistry. The Law of Conservation, isn't it?"
"Yes, it has a different name here but that works just as well. Well, the main difference between the two, Sorcerers and Druids that is, is the manner in which they use that energy. A druid takes in the energy, or magic, from the natural world around him and uses it in such a way that it is purified and enriched... a bit like fertilizing your farm after every use. That method is very tedious and difficult. Vise Versa, the Sorcerers take in that same energy yet leave it unfit for use by anyone else afterwards. That form of magic is very easy and conversely more popular with the miscreants who want to expend the least amount of effort themselves no matter what the cost to others."
"So what you're saying is that when Sorcerers have been using a lot of magic, the pollution affects the way the forest appears?" Sarah hazarded.
"You catch on quick. In fact, Druids have a very hard time cleaning up after Sorcerers. They're at war all the time. Luckily for druids, the Sorcerers are constantly poisoning themselves with their own filth. They burn out very quickly." He paused to grin. "A prudent Druid will never die because as they renew the energy inside themselves, they're doing the same to their own bodies."
Sarah blinked. "Damn. I can't see why a Sorcerer would exchange eternal life for... well, that."
"It's like I said before. A sorcerer wants results NOW! Hard work for eventual rewards isn't something that they favor." He shrugged. "As for... That. Well, don't people in the Aboveground do much the same thing? They breathe smoke, poison the very air their children breath, take poisons into their own bodies just for a few short moments of pleasure." He shrugged. "Who can say why people do harmful things to themselves and to others."
***
End Chapter Three
***
Chapter Three: In Which Bea gets a Visitor and Sarah gets a Lesson
Theme Music; Beautiful Stranger by Madonna
***
At first, Sarah had wondered about the wisdom of being set down at the edge of the forest in the middle of the night. This was a Fae forest and probably just chock full of night dangers.
Already she'd glimpsed disembodied lights bobbing their way throughout the forest; Will o-the Wisps unless she'd missed her guess. There had been two, count' em, shadowy strangers beckoning her off the sketchy path muttering something about a badly injured brothers. Considering they'd both been saying the same -exact- line she ignored them. On passing lake a magnificent black horse had surged out of the water and stood proudly beside the path, practically begging to be ridden. Sarah trudged on, ignoring the Kelpie.
That had been hours ago by Sarah's internal clock, but the starry night sky over head showed no signs of day break. Maybe it was always night there?
Sarah stopped to readjust the rucksack straps so they would stop biting into her shoulders.
"You're a bit more than I expected."
Sarah whirled towards the sound of the voice. A tall man lounged casually against one of the huge trees near the path she'd been following. He was about a head taller than Sarah, with a lean, almost whippy build. He had long dark brown hair that he'd caught back with clever little pewter clasp. He was dressed in dark brown leather pants with half height boots lined with fringe that matched that on his long vest. His loose white shirt, reminiscent of Jareth, had knots of ribbons at the shoulders that fell down in cheerful waves to his elbows. A worn, but serviceable sword was strapped to his belt along with a pair of throwing knives and what looked to be a blow dart tube.
In his long tapered fingers he held a carved wood flute decorated with more ribbons to match his shirt. A rucksack like Sarah's own lay by his sensibly booted feet with a dark green cloak tossed over it.
"Why are you, and why are you bothering me?" Sarah snapped, slightly irritably. Walking through a creepy forest at night with no clue as to where you were going did wonders for anyone's temper. Just wonders.
"Feisty, I can see why Jareth likes you."
The man stepped closer and Sarah was able to see him a little bit better in the ambiguous light that seemed to shroud the path. His chiseled features seemed... familiar somehow. She couldn't put her finger on where, but Sarah -knew- she'd seen this strange man before... or someone very much like him.
"My name is Gawain." He said politely. "I am to be your guide... here, I believe this is what you're looking for." He reached into his vest and withdrew a small charcoal outline sketch... of a horse. The paper made the stallion white.
"You're the white horse?" Sarah asked incredulously.
"Indeed I am!" Gawain blew a short flurry of melodious notes on his flute. "I also have your next clue!"
Sarah's lips twisted in grim humor. "Okay, let's have it."
Gawain chuckled and shook the no-no finger. "Not yet! First we should get out of the Night Ring. The outermost edge of Leihaedrielle is the most dangerous, We'll continue your quest in the Sunset Strip." He tossed his head in a none too subtle gesture indicating that they should continue.
"Wait!" Sarah huffed. "Why should I trust you?"
Gawain chuckled as he lifted his rucksack. "Well, allow me to put this the way your dwarf friend did once... what choice have ya got?" He did a fair imitation of Hoggle's gruff no-nonsense tones and startled a laugh out of Sarah.
She sighed and caught herself on a tiny feminine giggle, something she thought lost to her forever. "Can't argue with that twisted little bit of logic. Well, let's go."
Gawain met her strides easily. "I knew you'd see it my way."
***
Rap! Rap!
Bea floated through the door of her bedroom without waiting for the door to open for her. She glared at the front door in annoyance.
"Who in the dang-blamed blue blazes is hour?" she muttered to herself as she floated up to the door to peek out of the spy hole. It couldn't be Sarah, the door would have just unlocked and let her in, the same went for any of the neighbors. There wasn't a soul in the complex who didn't know about Bea.
The was a tall, dark man standing outside of the apartment. A very attractive one at that, Bea noticed in wry amusement. He was only slightly taller she she'd been before she'd left the mortal plane with dark chocolate skin and eyes to match.
"Can I help you?" Bea asked over the small intercom Sarah had installed for Bea. Like everything else in the apartment, it had shortly developed sentience and pressed its own buttons. Very handy when you had no substance except a very strong telekinetic talent... but that was more suited to throwing couches that fine, delicate things like pressing buttons.
The man winced. "I'm sorry, I'm looking for Sarah William's apartment?" He had one of those deep, rich baritones that was just heaven to listen to. Bea sighed, -Now- she found a guy with a voice like that! Why not twenty five years ago?
Bea frowned. "Ya got the right place, can I take a message? You might say she's... stepped out for a bit."
The African man on the other side of the door frowned minutely. More in annoyance than any personality flaw. "I'm sorry to be calling on you so late..."
Ain't a problem when you don't sleep no more, baby. Bea thought dryly. I ain't got no qualms about listening to your voice, you could put James Earl Jones outta business!
"... but I'm her new supervisor at Camco Corp. and I was in the area and wanted to check and see if she was all right, since she didn't call in today. I understand she and my predecessor... ah, had some problems between the two of them and I'd like to see if she was..."
The door suddenly swung in and Bea wasted no time in popping into the kitchen before Mr. James Earl Jones the third saw a see through woman at the door. She silently cursed the damn front door, and made a note to have a good long heart to heart with it.
He stepped in, cautiously. "Ma'am?" he went very still. "What is the..." his dark brown gaze swept the room, settling on every piece of furniture in the place. "Madre de Dios... everything in here is..."
"Alive?" Bea asked quietly. She didn't take a chance on going visible... but there was something about this guy, she just couldn't worry.
"Ma'am? Where are you?" he swallowed. "Am I talking to a ghost?"
"Something like that." Bea murmured. "Poltergeist to be exact, been so for twenty years."
Amazingly enough, the man relaxed. "Oh, for a moment there... a ghost, I can handle ghosts." He cleared his throat. "Please, could you come in here... or at least let me see you?"
If she'd still had a body, she would have blinked. Maybe... Bea took a chance and bent the light waves around her presence so that Whoever he was, he could see her. "My name's Beatrice. Call me Bea."
"Malcolm... Malcolm Aramus." He started to offer her his hand... but blushed halfway through. He started to retract it, but seemed to think better again...
Bea chuckled, if she didn't say something, he might keep moving his hand back and forth all night. "Don't worry about it, Mr. Aramus. Sarah is going to be on an extended leave, she might not come back at all." Bea paused with a slightly nasty smile. "In fact I hope she doesn't, she doesn't deserve what your company puts her through. That old bastard who died harassed her, and systematically shorted her pay, and her benefits! Where she is, is where she belongs!"
Malcolm flinched. "I've been going through Benson's papers all day... I know what he was up to. I was going to offer my condolences to Ms. Williams and offer to reimburse her for the damages..."
"So she doesn't sure the pants off your company?" Bea guessed.
"Now don't put words in my mouth!" Malcolm gritted out. "I saw that there had been an injustice done, would you have expected me to just ignore it? I'm not the bad guy here!"
Bea shrugged flippantly. "Whatever, what I want to know is why the apartment suddenly let you in? And how you knew, just by looking that the furniture was sentient."
Malcolm flinched. "It's a... family talent. We always called it the shining, and that was before Stephen king wrote that novel! I can see things, sometimes. My sisters hear people thoughts... I'm better with places and dead things.. er, ghosts I mean."
Bea cocked her head. "Ain't that something? Well, Mr. Aramus. Now that you're here an you know about the peculiarities of the place what do you plan on doing? I hope, for your sake, that it isn't call a tabloid and make some quick cash." She paused to let her ever present aura turn a menacing yellow-green. "That movie wasn't all fiction you know. I can manage some stuff that would turn your hair white."
Malcolm bristled. "Why in hell would I do that? I'd just be embarrassing myself and you while I was at it, I got better things to do than jeopardize my career by making a fool of myself!" he frowned. "I came here to check on Ms. Williams, if she's not here then I'll go."
Bea shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat, feel free to drop by again... when you don't have an agenda and it ain't 11 fricken' thirty."
She watched the tall man storm out, the door shut quietly behind him. She snorted quietly and looked at the apartment around her. "You like him, don't you?"
Incriminating silence.
"Well!" she huffed. "can't say I see why! Stuck up little brat... I got shoes with better manners..." ... but still... he hadn't run screaming into the night. He and Sarah had been the only ones Bea had ever encountered who could deal with her being as she was.
"Crikey." She muttered. "I really put my foot in it, didn't I?" she shook her head. "I can't imagine but what my Mama wouldn't have said." She shrugged. He'd be back... sooner or later.
She'd apologize then.
***
Night gave way into day.
Sarah looked back over her shoulder, it was still night a few meters behind her, but directly over head the sky was all warm and pink like a perfect sunset... only without the sun.
"Is this what you meant by 'Sunset Strip' and 'Night Ring'?" she asked Gawain, who was waiting for her a little further up the road.
He nodded. "The underground plays by its own rules, unlike the Aboveground where conformity is the norm. I suppose you remember how the time of day seemed to differ wherever you happened to be in the Labyrinth? No? Well, Leihaedrielle is no different. The closer you get to the center, the brighter and closer to dawn it will be."
Sarah frowned and resumed walking, matching Gawain's long pace. "But it was day outside of the Labyrinth when I was there, then night, then evening..."
Gawain shrugged. "Well, different parts of the Labyrinth are at different cycles. Leihaedrielle keeps mostly regular, but there have been... anomalies known to happen. Especially when the Sorcerers have been really going at it."
"Sorcerers?"
Gawain blinked. "That's right, you wouldn't know about that." he cleared his throat. "Well, apart from the Fae, there are two kinds of Magic users in the Underground. They aren't as powerful, but they're a hell of a lot more organized. The Fae just bicker and squabble a lot, and I suppose that is for the best."
He paused to sigh. "I suppose you're aware of the theory that energy can never be created nor destroyed?"
Sarah nodded. "Yes, I learned about that in chemistry. The Law of Conservation, isn't it?"
"Yes, it has a different name here but that works just as well. Well, the main difference between the two, Sorcerers and Druids that is, is the manner in which they use that energy. A druid takes in the energy, or magic, from the natural world around him and uses it in such a way that it is purified and enriched... a bit like fertilizing your farm after every use. That method is very tedious and difficult. Vise Versa, the Sorcerers take in that same energy yet leave it unfit for use by anyone else afterwards. That form of magic is very easy and conversely more popular with the miscreants who want to expend the least amount of effort themselves no matter what the cost to others."
"So what you're saying is that when Sorcerers have been using a lot of magic, the pollution affects the way the forest appears?" Sarah hazarded.
"You catch on quick. In fact, Druids have a very hard time cleaning up after Sorcerers. They're at war all the time. Luckily for druids, the Sorcerers are constantly poisoning themselves with their own filth. They burn out very quickly." He paused to grin. "A prudent Druid will never die because as they renew the energy inside themselves, they're doing the same to their own bodies."
Sarah blinked. "Damn. I can't see why a Sorcerer would exchange eternal life for... well, that."
"It's like I said before. A sorcerer wants results NOW! Hard work for eventual rewards isn't something that they favor." He shrugged. "As for... That. Well, don't people in the Aboveground do much the same thing? They breathe smoke, poison the very air their children breath, take poisons into their own bodies just for a few short moments of pleasure." He shrugged. "Who can say why people do harmful things to themselves and to others."
***
End Chapter Three
***
