Dark Confluence (14 page)

Carma chuckled, she knew she should feel bad about the storm-damaged coastal communities, but for some reason she didn’t give a damn. Sure, their concerns had been relegated down the list of priority; however, if they couldn’t shift for themselves, then they’d have to wait. Carma had worked day and night to push this action into priority and no one was going to stand in her way now.

Already the local progressive party had taken an interest in her action and had murmured supportive words such as mentoring, and a possible political future, which Carma had enthusiastically agreed to. In a matter of weeks, the majority of the town’s power would be underground and Carma hoped that Moira would honour her promise about granting her more power. Already her minor dabbling in the secret arts seemed to be blossoming, and she hoped that her political influence could soon grow to extend one day to state and federal levels.

She sighed happily, pulling into park behind her shop. She could achieve great things with power and influence and all soon lay within her grasp. Getting out of the car, she was surprised to see there a small queue of people waiting to go inside her shop, so she turned the ‘Closed’ sign to ‘Open’ and unlocked the doors. Waiting at the front counter Carma observed her customers. Most seemed to be older women in their sixties and seventies, and all seemed to be making a beeline to her bags of herbs. Her eyebrows raised, she wondered what the old dears were up to and made a mental note to increase the prices on all her stock. One by one, she rang up the items. She was dying of curiosity as to what had inspired the rush today, but said nothing. Twenty minutes later her shop was empty of customers and her shelves empty of herbs. Restocking would take days and Carma hoped that there would not be another rush.

The door jangled and Carma turned to see another female customer. This one however seemed younger than the others did, having a pale complexion, as if she spent much of her time inside. The woman was so slight that it looked as if a stiff wind would blow her away. Carma judged her to be in her early-fifties and dressed plainly in jeans, tailored shirt and closed in, sensible shoes. Her hair was long, dark and streaked with grey and hung down her back in a knotted plait. The woman’s face was not beautiful, although something was compelling about the shadowed hazel eyes glimpsed behind the glasses. The woman possessed eyes that hinted at something, a mystery. She seemed to possess power of some kind. Carma wondered if she was a fellow practitioner of the arts.

“Can I help you?” Carma asked, her curiosity piqued by this stranger.

“No, I’m fine. I’m just looking,” the woman replied softly, with ever so gentle a hint of a Scottish lilt in her voice.

“Very well, I’ll be here if you need assistance.”

Carma watched the woman move about the stock. She seemed almost embarrassed to be there, constantly touching her face and neck for reassurance and a blush suffusing the pale cheeks. She went to the herb shelves, and stood there, as if surprised to find it empty. Then shaking her head, moved on and finally picked out a packet of small silver bells. Eventually, she finished her shopping and came back to the counter.

“Are you all done then?” Carma asked archly.

The older woman looked across to her and nodded, not meeting her eyes.

“You seem to be out of herbs,” she said, pointing back to the empty shelves.

“Sadly yes,” Carma replied. “I had a run on them before. My apologies, I should have new stock in about ten days.” She took the packet of bells and scanned it, “Thirty dollars please.”

The slight woman handed over her debit card.

“EFTPOS?” Carma asked. When the woman nodded, Carma added, “Signature or pin number?”

“Signature.”

Carma handed over a pen and watched the woman scribe a name with a neat and compact hand. She handed the slip back along with the pen and Carma quickly read the name Jennifer McDonald, before putting it away into the cash register. For a couple of moments, the woman stood quietly, and then she looked up, and for the first time stared directly at her. The force of the woman’s hazel gaze was disturbing, and Carma ended up glancing away, unable to bear the scrutiny. Then the woman opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, but then obviously changing her mind, collected her purchase and left the shop.

Jennifer McDonald, she mused, as she collected her wits, staring at the place where the woman had been. Now where had she heard that name before? Carma racked her brains for a few minutes, but then eventually gave up. The memory seemed lost.

*

Jen walked away from the New Age shop with the bells jingling in the plastic bag and a troubled heart. She did not know what it was, but the place felt bad. Jen also sensed something about the storeowner that just felt wrong. It was hard to put into words, but she vowed to herself that she would not go there again. Shivering, she increased the pace of her walking. She still had bills to pay, and she wanted to put distance between herself and that place. Hurrying she headed to the post office.

The original post office had been located in an old federation-style building in the centre of Emerald Hills. However years later, developers had converted the building into an upmarket restaurant and the post office relocated to one of the shop fronts in the new supermarket complex. Although Jen preferred the eccentric little old individual shops with their overhanging eves and wide verandahs, the new complex did have the benefit of parking and easy accessibility.

Clutching the bills in her hand, Jen walked into the building and shivered again, wondering why they set their air conditioner so low. Even at the lateness of the hour, the post office was still crowded, so Jen patiently waited in the queue, directly behind a young mother with a small toddler. She checked the time on her watch and saw that the electronic hands read quarter past four. Jen frowned and tapped the dial, because she was sure it was later than that. The last time she had checked her watch it was four o’clock and that was before she had gone into the New Age shop. Jen looked ahead, the queue was not moving and the young toddler was bored and started to pull items off the lower shelves. Jen sighed in resignation and watched the young mother haul her child away, speaking to her in a low, yet sharp voice. Then the toddler started screaming with frustration. Flushing with embarrassment, the young mother bent down to hush the child and at that moment, all the lights in the supermarket flickered strangely and went off, plunging the entire complex into complete and utter darkness. As she stood in the darkness, Jen felt a cold, clammy breeze waft around her, and she smelt a strange odour. She stiffened as she heard a couple of sudden screams, and a few audibly drawn-in breaths. Then a second or two later, the lights came on again, bathing everything and everyone in sudden brilliance.

For just a moment, there was silence as everyone stood blinking in the brightness. Then, a sudden and ear-piercing shriek tore apart that silence, as the young mother in front of her discovered that her daughter was missing. Immediately, everyone turned to see what was going on, and there was a sudden surge in low and whispered conversation.

Sobbing, the young mother cried out, “Where is she? Where is my daughter? Tegan! Tegan! Where are you?”

As if her frantic words broke a spell, everyone in the post office immediately moved from immobility to startled action, all looking under tables and behind shelves for the missing child. As soon as the post office employees understood what had happened, they alerted security guards and management, and within moments all the doors into and out of the shopping centre were closed and locked.

Jen sighed and waited, whilst she and the other customers in the post office were questioned as to the location of the missing child. A security guard came up to her and asked if she had seen or noticed anything and Jen could only shake her head. She told him that the child had been misbehaving, threw a tantrum after being chastised, and then the sudden blackout and after that, nothing. The child had gone. The young mother was beside herself and management took her away into a nearby office in an attempt to settle her down. Jen heard sirens and noticed flashing lights out in the carpark - it seemed the police had arrived.

It took two hours for security and police to comb the complex for the child, and to speak to everyone who was near. They checked and searched every tiny hiding place at least twice, and they even investigated the air-conditioning ducts. The search and perusal of the security camera records revealed nothing, except some illicit drugs and stolen goods, which evidently had been hidden away for later retrieval. Reluctantly, management and police allowed the now tired and annoyed shoppers to leave, who in turn, faced a barrage of media cameras outside in the carpark. Jen, due to her smaller stature, successfully managed to weave her way between the media and the host of other townsfolk outside. The last thing she wanted to do was face an intrusive camera, and the media were like sharks in trying to wrangle the story out of people. Mumbling grateful thanks, she reached her hire car and turned on the ignition to drive home.

“Wait awhile, my Jenny,” murmured a familiar voice from the back seat.

Jen spun around to see younger-Fionn sitting there in the semi-darkness.

“I did not call you!” she exclaimed, her heart beating fast and a blush suffusing her face at seeing him again. “You have broken your promise to me.”

“Perhaps I did,” he agreed quietly. “However, I came with a warning. That abduction was meant for you.”

“For me?” Shock drained her pale face even whiter.

“Aye, the others see you as a threat, as a troublemaker. However you were warded, so you could not be taken against your will,” he explained.

Jen was confused, “Warded, in what way?”

He indicated the bag of small bells that she had just put on the passenger seat beside her, along with her paid bills.

“You carried bells upon you, so no Fae could imprison you or spirit you away.”

“Yet you’re here,” Jen observed.

“It causes me pain to be so close, but you are my Jenny and I want to protect you from those who would do you harm.”

“So why did they take the child?” she asked simply. “Why didn’t they just leave the others be if they couldn’t take me?”

He shrugged, “They acted within their nature and for the most part their nature is malignant towards humans.”

Jen took a shuddering breath, “Fionn, you must tell me what I am to do. Do you mean to say that these abductions, these murders, they have been done by your people?”

“By the Fae, yes, but not by my people,” he hastened to assure her.

“Then by who?” she questioned.

He fell silent then sighed. “Have you heard of the two great Courts of the Fae?”

Jen nodded, “I’ve been doing some reading. I understand there are the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. One comprises order, the other disorder?”

“Aye,” he said. “You are somewhat correct, although there is more to it than that. I am of the Seelie Court, a humble messenger only, since the great powers deign not to have direct conversation or interaction with humanity.”

“So the Unseelie Court is behind the abductions?”

He shook his head again. “We have been assured they have had no hand in it. However, it seems that some rebels from the Unseelie Court have broken away. It seems that they want to establish their own Court to rule over the other two.”

“So why here, why now, why involve humans?” Jen questioned.

He shrugged, “I don’t know, I am a messenger only. All I know is that rebels from the Unseelie Court have decided to make this place their battleground, to supplant themselves over all others from our realm.”