Last Car to Annwn Station (12 page)

She rode surrounded by silent strangers. The mood on the bus was somber, as if the combination of ever deepening snow and frantic police activity had sucked the spirit from the usually animated riders on this route.

When the bus reached Lyndale and Lake, she was the first out the back door at the busy stop. Jill struggled to run in the calf-deep snow, reaching the door of her townhouse, gasping for breath and sweating under her coat. She fumbled with gloved hands, finally pushing the brass key into the lock. She burst through the door, kicking it shut and shedding her coat in one motion.

“Mae! Mae!”

Jill gave the living room and kitchen a quick glance. Nothing. She checked the downstairs bathroom. There was no sign of Mae. She started up the stairs.

“Mae! Mae, answer me!”

Jill turned the corner on the landing at a run and took three quick steps into Mae’s room.

She could see where Mae had begun replacing the clothes she had dumped last night. A small blue suitcase was on the futon, unpacked and open. The clothes Mae had slept in last night were on the floor. There was a soft beep from the sweatpants. Jill picked them up and found Mae’s cell phone.

Jill let out a frightened breath. Mae never made it home.

She ignored her first impulse. Dashing out into the gathering gloom and blowing snow would do no one, especially Mae, any good. She needed to think this through.

Jill gathered every phone in the house and carried them with her from room to room. She changed into a black pair of jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt. She carried her boots, a heavy sweater, and her warmest socks downstairs, prepared to venture into the freezing Minnesota winter at a moment’s notice.

She put on a pot of coffee, suspecting it was going to be a long night. Food, Jill decided. She needed to eat now, in case she needed to—she was not sure what, but in case she needed to do something.

Ten minutes later she was sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of hot coffee with extra sugar and a microwave dinner in front of her. The three phones were arrayed around her on the table.

She was staring at her untouched dinner when Mae’s phone rang. She grabbed for it, knocking her coffee cup onto the floor.

“Hello? Hello? Who is this?”

“They have her.”

“Mae? Who are you? Who has Mae?”

“They have her,” a female voice said again, then the there was a soft click.

For a moment she thought she heard the soft chime of a bell through Mae’s phone. She listened closely. There was silence. She checked the phone, trying to see the caller ID. There was no number, just the word unknown. She tried the call-back feature on Mae’s phone, but was redirected to a message telling her the number she was trying to reach was blocking calls. She set the phone back on the table and swore.

Jill settled into a chair by the window, staring at the falling snow, thick flakes stacking up like little moments in time, shutting down traffic on the street below. She shivered.
Mae,
she thought.
Mae, where are you?

The silence was unsettling. She turned on the television and flipped to the cable radio channels, picking one at random. Roy Orbison sang “Pretty Paper” at her. She switched the channel. The same song sounded from the speakers. She did it again with the same result. Unnerved, Jill turned the television off.

The voice on the phone had said they had her. She had to assume the caller meant Mae, and the only people who would be after Mae would be Hodgins and the Arnesons. She knew where they lived, could even probably manage to get inside their home. How she would get Mae out was another matter, but she would worry about that once in the mansion.

She stepped back to the window in time to see one of the streetcars, its yellow frame nearly obscured by the heavy snow, pull up on the street below. She watched it, hoping she would see Mae climb off, safe and alive. She did not. Instead, the red doors opened and the bell rang twice.

Jill let out a shaky breath. She hoped she knew why the streetcar was here. She started to tremble. This business with magicians and faeries and anthropomorphic hounds was dead serious. Her gut was telling her that to save Mae, she needed to be prepared to travel right to the edge of everything, and then step off the ledge.

Jill looked around her townhouse, trying to decide what she might need. She put her baton and cell phone in the inside pocket of her coat, adding Mae’s phone on impulse. She grabbed a pair of granola bars from the cabinet and filled a water bottle. She climbed the stairs and added another pair of socks to her feet and coins to her pocket.

Keys and wallet vanished into the inside coat pockets, making them bulge. She took another steadying breath and walked outside, through the deepening snow to the patiently waiting streetcar.

Jill climbed aboard. The door closed and she turned to find the conductor.

“Ten cents, please.”

Jill gave him a dime, taking the offered transfer slip. She walked to the back of the empty car and looked out the window, searching the darkness. The streetcar bell rang twice and the machine lurched forward. Jill took a seat and stared out the window into the snowy Minnesota night beyond.

Wherever you are, Mae, hang on,
she thought.
I’m coming. I’m coming to bring you home.

Saturday, 28
^th
of October

Jill rode in silence. She hoped that her previous experience of the streetcar stopping where she needed to get off would hold true for this trip. It was hard to see outside the window, but as the car moved through the dark night, the city faded, giving way to forests and grass.

The streetcar parked and the red doors opened.

Creatures from imagination and nightmare climbed aboard. Jill sat up and watched the strange procession. Most of the fae creatures—for with their pointed ears, earth-toned clothing and antique weapons, Jill was sure they could be nothing else—seemed to be injured. Several bore head wounds. Most were bleeding or covered in blood, and not a few held limbs that were obviously dislocated or broken. After a few minutes some of the more ambulatory creatures began carrying the seriously injured onto the car.

Any other night and Jill might have sat gazing in fear and wonder at the parade, but tonight she was focused on one thing. Mae. When she could finally no longer sit still, she climbed off the car, stepping into a gray twilight.

She was greeted by the sight of one of the streetcars lying wrecked, torn into pieces, its wooden body splintered and scattered about the landscape. There were ominously still shapes on the ground. Jill took a step forward, fearful of whom one of those still forms might be.

“You’ll not find her here, Jill Hall.”

She turned toward the voice. The creature who addressed her was short and squat, wearing the remains of a floppy brimmed hat. He had a heavy bandage on one arm and a deep scowl on his gray, warty face. There was blood on his shirt and a deep, oozing gash along his neck. “The hounds took her. They dragged her into the mists.”

Jill looked around. All the landscape looked the same to her. “Which way did they take her?”

“There’s no point in following,” the wounded faerie said.

Jill rounded on him. “I’m going to find her, and I am going to bring her home. Which way did they take her?”

“You don’t understand. No living mortal can find or enter Annwn. If they’ve taken Mae to Annwn, then she’s lost to the mortal world.”

Jill stared at the squat creature for a moment. “You’re Kravis, aren’t you? The one who met Mae on the streetcar the first night she was attacked by the hounds?” Mae had told Jill everything about that night after their own encounter with the C
n Annwn, giving Jill a vivid description of Kravis, Ellie and Death.

He squirmed. “Yes.”

Jill walked up to him. “I need to know how to find Mae.”

“Are you deaf? I just told you—”

Jill grabbed him by the front of his raggedy shirt. “If the hounds took Mae to Annwn, there must be a way in.” She gave Kravis a shake, making him gasp in pain. “You are going to lead me there.”

“There is a door,” a tiny voice said. “There is a door to the place you seek.”

Jill turned to find herself facing a winged woman, all long blue hair and so short the top of her pointed ears did not quite reach Jill’s waist.

“Lady Elliefandi! No!” Kravis snapped.

Jill spun on the wounded creature, furious. “Quiet!”

“You can’t get to the door,” Kravis said. “It is in our realm. Even if you were allowed to travel through to the Court, the door is locked.”

“Locks can be picked. Locks can be broken. I’ll deal with that when I get there. Take me there. Now.”

“If you don’t, I will,” the winged woman said, her face stern.

Kravis frowned at her, but stood and limped toward the streetcar. “You’re going to get us both banished, you daft thing. No one will stand for bringing a mortal into our hold and hall.”

Ellie grinned at him. “Then we’ll have to make sure no one knows, won’t we?”

The three climbed aboard the waiting streetcar when its bell rang out twice in warning. As Jill stepped through the streetcar’s door, she looked over her shoulder at the wreckage of the first car. She was not sure how Mae could have survived the accident, but others had, so it was possible. She reached the bench where Ellie was standing next to Kravis.

“We can slip her past the guards in all the confusion,” Ellie said. “They’ll be overwhelmed with trying to help everyone to safety.”

“It’s fine for you to make wild plans,” Kravis snorted as the car lurched and started rolling along. “You’ve protection and kin.”

“You don’t?” Jill asked squeezing past Kravis and into the seat next to the squat faerie.

“No. The Dark Ones were the first to fall into shadow. We tried to save ourselves by aligning with mortal mages. It was our doom. A few survivors claimed sanctuary with our Light cousins, but they have little use for us. They host us because courtesy and blood demand it, but they do not trust us.”

“And justly so, for the most part,” Ellie said softly.

“And justly so,” Kravis echoed in agreement, a small smile on his weathered face.

“Mortal mages?” Jill asked.

For the rest of the ride, Kravis and Ellie took turns explaining to Jill about the death of Bebhinn and binding of Gwynn ap Nudd. They told her how the mages, who had bound the faerie Lord and Champion, drew their power from the lands and spirits of the Tylwyth Teg, and how they were all being hunted and taken, stripped of their magic to feed the power of mortals.

“We’re the last great Court of the Tylwyth Teg, come over the seas and hiding in this new world, and we are but a shadow of our people’s former glory,” Ellie said. “Most of our numbers have been captured and taken to the horror Annwn has become. The survivors of the lost Courts live in exile in the great Courts of our distant fae kin.”

Jill reached over and placed a hand on Ellie’s arm. “I’m sorry.” She looked at Kravis. “Show me the way to get into your realm, and I’ll go in alone.”

Kravis sighed. “No. I was charged with guarding Mae and I’ve failed. I’ll help you because I must and because I need to.”

Jill gave him a critical look. “I’m not sure you’re in any shape to be fighting hell hounds and who knows what else.”

Kravis smiled at her, all sharp and crooked green teeth. “Would you
prefer
to go alone?”

“Not really.”

“Then it’s settled,” Ellie said. “We’ll sneak you into the hold, talk to our
swynwraig
, and convince her to open the door.”

“Swynwraig?”
Jill asked.

“A wizard,” Ellie said absently.

Kravis snorted. “You make it sound like a flower gathering trip.”

“And what would you know about gathering flowers, Kravis ap Thimp?”

“Nothing, I’m afraid.”

The streetcar stopped and opened both its doors.

“This is it,” Ellie said, looking over the seated Kravis at Jill. “Take one of Kravis’s arms, I’ll take the other, and we’ll blend in with the injured.”

“I
am
one of the injured,” Kravis said.

Ellie nodded. “That will make it all the more convincing. Now moan like you’ve lost your lover and stagger around a bit when we lead you.”

“Won’t I be noticed?” Jill whispered, standing up and taking one of Kravis’s arms.

Ellie shrugged. “Turn your coat collar up and let your hair cover your face. Keep your eyes down and look at the ground. Maybe they’ll think you’re a hag or giantess. If anyone asks questions, I’ll speak to them.”

“Right,” Jill muttered. “No eye contact and no talking.”

They stood in the line to exit the car, Kravis leaning heavily on Jill, with Ellie walking slightly ahead of them and Kravis keeping one hand on Ellie’s back, between her wings.

“Don’t overact,” Ellie hissed.

“I’m not. I’m really quite injured.”

In front of them was a frozen lake. The line of injured and those giving them aid were moving steadily through the falling snow toward a large old tree. Jill gasped in surprise. She recognized this place. It was the tree that hosted the fairy door at Lake Harriet. Apparently it was more than just a bit of local color. As the fae reached the door and passed through, the door was either expanding or the creatures were shrinking.

“Ellie,” Jill said softly, “am I going to fit through that door?”

“It will be fine. You’ll pass through as long as you hold onto Kravis and he holds onto me.”

Jill wished she felt as sure about the situation as Ellie did, but there was nothing for it but to continue on. They reached the little wooden door, trailing behind two knee-high nut-brown creatures that looked like they had just left a mine. Jill closed her eyes and stepped forward, clutching Kravis’s arm.

The smell of wildflowers and rainwater filled her nose, causing her a moment of confusion. Jill opened her eyes, giving her surroundings a quick glance through her hair before looking down again.

It was night in the realm of the fae. Softly glowing orbs floated in the tree, illuminating a pathway that everyone seemed to be walking down. There were guards guiding the wounded farther down the path. Jill could see the occasional glint of light off polished weapons—weapons so bright and pale they could only be silver—held by pale-haired warriors. The sound of a small waterfall reached her ears, just underneath the continual groans and moans of the injured and the orders of the guards.

“Steady now,” Kravis whispered as they approached the first of the guards.

“Lady Elliefandi, are you injured?” the guard asked.

Jill kept a careful watch from the corner of her eyes. The guard ignored both her and Kravis in favor of the winged woman.

“No. I’m helping this one,” Ellie nodded toward Kravis.

The guard frowned. “Shall I summon an escort for him?”

“No, we can handle it.” Ellie started to move forward.

“Hold, Lady Elliefandi,” the guard said. Jill saw him nod toward her. “This one is unfamiliar to me.” He moved in front of her. “Who are you, come to our realm?”

Jill’s heart started to beat wildly. She knew if she looked up he would recognize her for what she was.

“She’s a hag, banished from the unseelie and under protection of Lady Rhyania’s Court. I know her from my visits.” Ellie leaned forward. “She is mute, but she helped me carry Kravis this far. Uncommonly strong, that one.”

The guard stood in front of Jill. She kept her head down, looking at the guard’s boots.

“You vouch for her, then?” he asked Ellie.

“Indeed. I will see her home when this is done.”

“You should call for an escort. It is too dangerous to be about in these times, Lady Elliefandi.”

“I shall.”

Kravis gave a small moan. Jill hoped it was enough to get the guard to send them on their way. She was not disappointed.

“Very well, my lady. If you have any need, I am at your service.”

Ellie led Jill and Kravis further down the path, away from the watchful gaze of the guard.

“Here,” Kravis said in a low voice. He guided them into the rich, fragrant foliage that lined the pathway.

“Where are we going?” Jill wanted to know, releasing Kravis’s arm and falling into step next to him. Ellie did the same on the other side.

“Our
swynwraig
lives not far from the door. Hers is the task of guarding the entrances and exits to the hold,” Kravis explained. “I am—her servant.”

“You’re her personal assassin,” Ellie said.

“Yes, I am. I am also her companion, gardener, chef and bodyguard.”

“Your wizard needs a bodyguard?” Jill asked.

Ellie grimaced. “She is not well loved.”

Kravis snorted. “The Lord of Llysllyn is frightened of her power and influence.”

Jill frowned. “Look, I don’t really care about your politics. I just want to get to this door to Annwn and find Mae.”

Kravis led them through a thicket and into a small clearing. There was a dwelling—Jill was not sure it could be called a house or cottage—growing from the trunk of a giant oak tree.