Queen of Wands-eARC (21 page)

“You can come out, it’s okay,” the girl said. “Nobody bites. Not here, anyway. They do in the Hyatt sometimes.”

“Really?” Doris asked, taking a tentative step out. Making up your mind to go out in public in what amounted to a very tight, nearly paper-thin robe was one thing. Doing it had turned out to be another.

“Some of the girls can be real bitches, if you’ll pardon my language, if they think you’re getting more attention than they are,” the girl said. “I’m Daphne.”

“Doris,” Doris said, shaking her hand. “That is a
gorgeous
pirate costume. You must have worked on it for months.”

“I bought it, to tell you the truth,” Daphne said. “Then I had it fitted. But I thought I needed at least one really good costume for Dragon. I love yours.”

“It’s really just something that some friends threw together for me,” Doris said, shyly.

“It looks really good on you,” Daphne said. “What’s with the mask? Planning on robbing a Japanese bank?”

“If I wear a mask I can pretend I’m not me?” Doris said.

“Got to get over that sometime,” Daphne said. “But maybe not tonight. Right?”

“Maybe not tonight,” Doris admitted.

“Can I take your picture?” an Asian man said. Unlike a lot of the people, he was carrying a fairly professional digital camera setup.

“Certainly,” Daphne said, grabbing Doris’s arm. “Thank you.”

“That’s the way to do it,” she whispered between shots. “You’re out here to show off, but be polite about it. Some girls aren’t, but the question is, do you
want
to be a bitch? I mean, why even costume and show skin if you’re going to be a bitch about pictures?”

By the time the guy was done with two or three photos there was a crowd of people taking enough pictures that Doris found herself blinking myopically.

“I’m not used to all this attention,” she muttered through her masklike makeup.

“But do you enjoy it?” Daphne asked.

“Yes,” Doris said. “I guess I do.”

“Then let’s just enjoy it,” Daphne said. “Smile.”

“Geishas don’t show teeth,” Doris said.

“Tea-house girl, surely.”

“Also don’t show teeth.”

“You realize your nipples are standing up and you can see them through the kimono?”

“What?”

“It
probably
won’t be noticeable in the pictures, but it’s sure attracting the guys. Just go with it.”

When the picture-taking had died down, Daphne gestured out into the lobby.

“You can’t just stand in one place. You need to promenade.”

“I’m perfectly comfortable hiding behind my plant. Especially now that I know…what you said.”

“Then why are you here?” Daphne asked.

“To learn to get over it,” Doris admitted. “I’ll go if I can stay with you. Sorry to be so silly about it, but I’m just learning to get over it. Baby steps.”

“Then let
us
promenade,” Daphne said, linking her arm into Doris’s and striking a pose. “I know how you feel. I was the same way the first time I came here, which seems like yesterday. Given some of the stuff… Never mind. I shall be the pirate and you shall be my captured Japanese maiden. And, no, I don’t swing that way.”

“Fine,” Doris said as they started out into the lobby. She nearly stopped and hid again as she noticed a simply huge black guy in a Blade outfit watching her. But he gave her a curt nod and then looked away. “I’m supposed to take little, dainty steps.”

“With the length of your legs compared to mine, your dainty steps are a stride for me,” Daphne said, dragging her out into the open.

They didn’t get far.

“Excuse me, can I take your picture?”

* * *

“Are we sure she’s here?” Hjalmar asked when he walked into the Hyatt bar.

“She’s here,” Sharice said, biting her lip. “What I don’t know is where she’s hiding. We’ve been looking
everywhere
!”

“Well, if there are forces at work against her, perhaps she’s hiding from them,” Drakon said. “Whatever the case, we need to return and find out what is happening on the mundane side.”

“Agreed,” Sharice said. “We’ll drop off Hjalmar’s gear in the room then return to the world. But we’re coming back tomorrow, damnit. She must be going without sleep, and a person can only go so long that way. We need to get her out of here before we lose her forever.”

* * *

“That was fantastic!” Doris burbled as Bran opened the door. “I had
so
much fun!”

“Glad to hear it,” Bran said, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Doris said, immediately apologetic. “I woke you up.”

“I’ve got early panels tomorrow,” Bran said. “No problem, though. Hey, a beautiful lady knocking on my door in the middle of the night is nothing to complain about.”

“I’ll get my things and get out of here,” Doris said, sliding past him. He was dressed, to her surprise, in pajamas.

“If you want to talk I’ll be awake for an hour or so,” Bran said, sitting down on the end of the unused bed. It was more or less covered in costuming material.

“No, I’ll let you get back to sleep,” Doris said, grabbing her bag and heading into the bathroom.

When she came back out, Bran was still sitting on the end of the bed looking, if anything, even more wide awake.

“Seriously, people generally want to talk about something like their first costuming night,” Bran said.

“If you’re sure,” Doris said, grabbing a chair. She’d changed back into her “street clothes” and felt mildly uncomfortable in them. As if even as street clothes they weren’t what she’d choose to wear. “Well, Mandy sent Traxa down with me but she took off almost immediately. Which left me hiding in a corner.”

“I hope you climbed out,” Bran said.

“I did,” Doris said, dimpling. “With some help. I ran into a girl named Daphne…”

“Pirate costume?” Bran asked. “Big hat? White feather?”

“Yes,” Doris said.

“Did that costume,” Bran said, smiling.

“You did that?” Doris asked. “It was awesome!”

“Hey, I do this for a living,” Bran said, shrugging. “Lots of pictures?”

“Oh, everybody loved it,” Doris said, pulling the pins out of her hair. She’d taken the time to get most of the makeup off in the bathroom. “Daphne convinced me to climb out of my corner and it was just picture city. She made like I was her captive and everybody just ate it up. We stayed in the Hilton and just talked and got pictures taken until, well, now. It was great! I never thought I’d enjoy attention so much!”

“It’s called ego-boo,” Bran said. “Ego boost. Duncan can lecture on it for hours. It’s about status, basically. If people are giving you positive attention it feels like a rise in cultural status. Generally it means there
is
a rise in status. I’ll let Duncan complete the lecture and go on about how the gene is selfish.”

“The one thing that kept throwing me was that there was this
enormous
black guy in a Blade costume that, like, followed us around. He wasn’t acting…stalkerish. He didn’t actually spend that much time watching
us
. But every time I looked around, there he’d be, usually with his back to us. Actually, it sort of looked as if he was watching out
for
us. Which is weird. And he totally ignored people taking his picture. If
we
moved,
he
moved, pictures being taken or not.”

“Yeah, that would be weird,” Bran said. “Going to do the same costume tomorrow?”

“I could,” Doris said, frowning. “I don’t want to put anyone to any more trouble…”

“But you’d rather do something else,” Bran said, nodding. “Makes sense. Come to the panels tomorrow and we’ll see what we can come up with. You should think about showing more skin. You’re probably going to have to when the Dawn contest comes, and you need to get used to it.”

“After tonight I think I can get my head around that,” Doris said. “One guy did try to grope me. I don’t
think
his wrist is broken.”

“Glad to hear you’re getting some assertiveness,” Bran said, yawning. “You’re going to need it. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m actually getting tired again.”

Doris smiled and then shrugged.

“I was half expecting a come-on,” she admitted.

“You’re…not really ready for that, unless I’m mistaken,” Bran said. “Maybe later in the con.”

“Until then, then,” Doris said, standing up.

“Have a good rest of the evening.”

* * *

Doris knew she should be tired; she hadn’t slept at all last night and it was after midnight, but she was still charged up from the evening. She wandered down to the lobby of the Hilton, but most of the costumers had packed it in and everything was closed up. The Marriott wasn’t much better.

However, the Hyatt was still going strong. She flashed her badge to the security on the back steps and found that the “smoking area” outside the back door was just about packed. There were still vendors out there but she wasn’t going to spend her limited amount of cash on drinks.

However, besides the various people, in various clothing ranging from street clothes through corsets and miniskirts and schoolgirl outfits to one guy in a leather thong and body paint, there was a group of people banging on drums down at the far end. And girls doing belly dancing in the middle.

Intrigued, she walked over to watch. The rhythms were catchy and pulled at something in her. She knew she liked to dance, she just wasn’t usually someone to do it in public. Her dancing was all done in her room to the radio. This was different. Different dancing and a completely different environment.

Could she, maskless, walk out there and join in?

No, but she didn’t have to be maskless. She considered her location then walked to the nearest ladies’ room.

* * *

“Is that her?” the woman asked.

“Yes,” the man at her side answered. “We should kill her, I tell you.”

“And risk the penalties?” the woman asked scornfully. “She doesn’t know who she is or where she is. She is no risk to us.”

“Her friends search for her. They’re gone now. But when they find her, that is a much larger issue.”

“She has to win the crown to defeat us. There is no chance that that dormouse can beat me.”

“Let’s hope so. I am tired beyond words of this prison.”

“I’m tired of these losers. Let’s go find a party.”

“You just want to find someone to torment.”

“That’s what we do, precious.”

* * *

Once in the ladies’, Doris entered a stall and pulled off her shirt. Going shirtless was out. That, she couldn’t quite handle yet. But it was an old shirt and worn. And she had a small pen-knife in her bag.

Five minutes later she walked out. It wasn’t a great costume but she at least could be a tad anonymous. Call the costume “The Dread Pirate Roberta.” She sort of remembered a movie with a character, ‘The Dread Pirate Roberts,’ who always wore a black mask. The sleeves were gone from the ratty old shirt, and it was now a midriff shirt. The lower part of the shirt was the mask.

All the girls in the circle were in such beautiful costumes, she didn’t want to get in there in her holey jeans and beat-up running shoes. So she chose a quiet corner off to the side and started dancing.

Just the hips at first, warming into the rhythm. What was that line about “Dance like nobody is watching?” She knew almost from the first that, ratty clothing or not, people were watching. Men were watching.

And she liked it.

CHAPTER FOUR

“Have you had any sleep at all?” Duncan asked as Doris sat down at his table in the restaurant.

“Nope,” Doris replied, grinning. “I’ve been having too much fun.”

“Is that a faint sheen of glow about you I detect?”

“If you mean am I pregnant, no!” Doris replied, hotly.

“Horses sweat, men perspire, and women glow,” Duncan said. “You appear to glow. Your hair is wet.”

“I was dancing,” Doris said, shrugging.

“This early?” Duncan replied, chuckling. “Shouldn’t you at least wait until the sun is over the yardarm?” He paused and looked at her. “You don’t mean you were dancing all
night
?”

“Until about an hour ago. The last drummer gave up, the loser.”

“Good God, woman!” Duncan said. “Pace yourself. No sleep, and dancing all night? Were your shoes on fire? What happened to the little wallflower?”

“I am the little wallflower,” Doris said, shrugging. “Until I can put on a mask. Then I get to be the mask.”

“Well, seriously, you need some rest,” Duncan said. “Food, at least. My treat.”

“I accept,” Doris said. “I feel sort of bad about the fact that I’m living on charity. But I sort of got over it, partially, last night. Guys kept giving me bottles of water.”

“I hope you only took those that were sealed,” Duncan said, signaling for a waiter.

“I was careful,” Doris said. “It sort of bothered me at first. But they seemed to like it and they really seemed to like my dancing. One of the drummers asked if I was going to be there tonight. I said probably. I know I have to sleep sometime, and I’m tired, but not the kind of tired where you can go to sleep. You know?”

“Yes,” Duncan said, nodding. “But you have to rest sometime. And, frankly, you could probably use a shower after dancing all night.”

“Do I smell?” Doris asked, looking panicked.

“No,” Duncan said, grinning. “But you still could probably use a shower. Am I right?”

“Yes,” Doris said.

“I’m not using my room for the next couple of hours,” he said, handing her a key. “Feel free to avail yourself of it. Get some sleep if you can, wash up if nothing else. Remember the rules of the con. Drink, Eat, Sleep, Game. Or costume, in your case. What are your plans for today?”

“More costuming panels,” Doris said. “Then I’m going to see if I can figure out how to make a harem-girl costume for tonight. I don’t think I can. There’s too much involved. And I need to figure out what costume I’m going to do for the contest.”

“If you’d like another suggestion…?” Duncan asked.

“Sure,” Doris replied. “You’ve been on the money so far.”

“Don’t spend all your time in costuming. There are a thousand things to do at this con. No person is all one thing. Or if they are, they’re called obsessives. You might try looking in on some other panels. I’m going to a demonstration by a friend of mine at one, over in the Marriott. You might want to look that up.”

“Damn, you’re up early.”

Doris looked up, then up again, at a tall, thin man with a straggly beard and long, frizzy hair.

“Ah,” Duncan said, grinning. “It’s Kelly. Kelly Lockhart, Doris Grisham. Doris, Kelly. Join us for breakfast?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Kelly said, grabbing a chair. “It’s not often that I get to eat breakfast with a beautiful lady.”

“I won’t tell Star you said that,” Duncan said, chuckling.

“Young lady.”

“Or that.”

“Redhead.”

“There you go. Foot nicely extracted. Doris, Kelly is a feature of Dragon*Con I don’t think you’ve yet had the dubious pleasure of experiencing.”

“Oh?” Doris asked, puzzled.

“I’m the court jester,” Kelly said. “Which means that since nobody takes me seriously I can get away with things that would otherwise be outrageous.”

“And people just say ‘Oh, it’s Kelly’ and shrug.”

“There you go.”

“Such as the fu…screw-up fairy?”

“Don’t remind me,” Kelly said, wincing. “Okay, there are some lines that shouldn’t be crossed.”

“The problem is not crossing a line,” Duncan said. “It’s jumping across it butt naked. Or, perhaps, in the screw-up fairy costume.”

“You have all these in-jokes,” Doris said.

“Danger of an inbred community,” Duncan said, smiling. “The fu…screw-up fairy…”

“Tech-ops says that whenever something goes wrong, it’s the…screw-up fairy,” Kelly said, by way of explanation. “So one year I decided to come as the screw-up fairy.”

“Imagine yon large—hirsute, I might add—male in a size triple-XL Tinkerbell costume.”

“Technically it was Texas small.”

“Oh,” Doris said, grimacing. “Brain floss!”

“Yes, yes,” Duncan said, grinning. “We
all
wanted economy-size brain floss.”

“With condoms hanging from the belt,” Kelly pointed out. “Doesn’t make any sense, otherwise. I mean, it’d just be a guy cross-dressing if I didn’t do that.”

“And there is far too much of that at Dragon*Con, anyway,” Duncan said.

“I saw a great big fat bearded guy in a Sailor Moon outfit last night,” Doris said, shuddering.

“Sailor Moon cosplay should be outlawed,” Folsom said, nodding. “Seriously. There ought to be laws with stiff penalties. Hanging on first offense, with successively higher penalties.” Duncan frowned as his breakfast was served, and pulled out his cell phone to check the time. “This is fun, but I think it’s throwing my schedule off. I’m not sure I’ll be able to make Ed’s demo. Kelly, Doris is going to avail herself of my shower. After that, do you think you could be a friend and get her over to Ed’s demonstration?”

“Sure,” Kelly said. “I don’t have any plans.”

“I’m going to wolf this down and then scoot,” Folsom said. “Doris, don’t let this trickster lead you astray. He’s renowned for it. Kelly, actually
get
her to the demo, okay?”

“You just say that because you love me,” Kelly said, grinning.

“Or something like that,” Folsom replied.

* * *

“Eh, this is too effing weird,” Hjalmar said, looking at the crowds below. “If I’m getting this right, this is the next day, in the morning. And we were away for, what, two hours?”

“We were here for one day in this reality and out-of-body for two,” Sharice said, biting her lip. “There’s a rule going on here that I can’t define. Time is way skewed. I came right back because I was afraid we were going to miss the entire con if we stayed away. Instead, we’re right back where we should be starting again.”

“Rules of game?” Drakon said. “We rest and we restart at the proper time?”

“But who is running the game?” Sharice said. “And what are the other rules?
Most especially
, who is running the game? Because if it’s certain entities, then it’s going to be rigged.”

“Rigged or not, it’s the only game in town,” Hjalmar said as he threw on his mail. “What’s the plan? I take it I’m getting sentry again.”

“Where have we missed?” Sharice asked.

“It’s a huge con,” Drakon said. “We haven’t really hit the gaming areas. I covered the lower levels of the Hyatt yesterday. Ran into a fascinating guy in the anime room. He knew, like, every anime ever created and every martial arts movie ever. Even met Bruce Lee a couple of times.”

“Costuming,” Hjalmar said, waving at his armor. “There’s a whole huge track on that over at the Hilton. And we didn’t really hit the Hilton much at all.”

“Drakon, you take gaming,” Sharice said. “I’ll take costuming. Link up with Hjalmar at two. I’ll spell Hjalmar so he can get some food and rest. Then we roam again.”

“Works,” Drakon said, shaking his head. “Gaming. Why’d it have to be gaming?”

“Would you rather sit through lectures on period fabric making?” Sharice asked.

“Come to think of it, I
really
want to check out the gaming room…”

* * *

“You look refreshed,” Kelly said as Doris exited the elevator.

“I feel refreshed,” Doris said, heading to the lobby.

“Let’s take the tubeway,” Kelly said, gesturing in the opposite direction. “This time of day it’s not too crowded, and it’s closer.”

“I haven’t been this way before,” Doris said as they headed into the skyway. “I didn’t even know this was here.”

“There are a half-dozen ways to get back and forth,” Kelly said. “Trust me, I know them all. And you can watch the crazies from up here,” he added, gesturing down to the street. “Like the guy in armor who looks as if he’s a sentry.”

Doris stopped and considered the guy in period Norse costume.

“He looks familiar,” she said.

“That’s common,” Kelly replied, taking her arm. “And we’re walking…”

“Lots of people in costume already,” Doris said.

“This is when the con really gets going,” Kelly said as they proceeded on their way. “Most of the day registration is on Saturday. Which is why the day-reg line is so long. Tomorrow will be busy, too, what with the concerts and the Dawn contest.”

“I’m going to do that,” Doris said, shyly.

“Dawn?” Kelly said, surprised. “Well, you’re a natural for looks, but…What’s your costume?”

“I haven’t really decided yet,” Doris said. “It’s going to be limited.”

“Hmmm…” Kelly said, frowning. “Dawn’s not something to just jump into. I mean, not if you’re serious. It’s become almost a masquerade lately. People work all year on a costume for it. Just throwing something together? Good luck. And why Dawn?”

“I’m trying to find out who I really am,” Doris said. “Dawn is about as far from who I am now as I can imagine.”

“Then maybe it’s not who you really are,” Kelly said. “Maybe something like gaming is more your style. All that takes is brains and skill. You’ve clearly got the brains; all you need is the skill. And you can pick that up fast. If you just want to win something to prove something to yourself, well, one of the gaming contests is more likely.”

“Hmmm…” Doris said, doubtfully.

“Or, well, you’ve been doing costuming, right? Maybe something like the Iron Costumer contest. I wouldn’t suggest masquerade, that’s also something you work all year on. But there are more places to prove yourself, to find yourself, at Dragon*Con than Dawn. Just a thought.”

“I’ll think on it,” Doris said as they exited into the food court. “Oh, I have been this way. I found the food court my first day. But I’ve mostly been eating in the con suite.”

“Shane appreciates that, I’m sure,” Kelly said. “He goes to a lot of trouble to come up with solid meals even though his budget is really small for all the people he has to feed. And he never has enough staff. Most people aren’t willing to sell their souls to be con-suite zombies. But to get to the Marriott we go this way.”

“I offered to help out,” Doris said. “In the con suite. But he said I had to have my brains removed.”

“It’s not a con rule, it’s his,” Kelly said. “All con-suite staff must be zombies. I think it’s an African hospitality thing.”

Doris giggled at that and then looked around in surprise as they entered the Marriott. “I never would have found this way if you hadn’t shown it to me.”

“There are signs, but they’re more harm than help,” Kelly said. “There are a thousand paths around Dragon*Con. I like to try them all.”

“Duncan said you can go anywhere.”

“Dragon*Con is really about fifteen cons rolled into one,” Kelly said. “Media con, derivative con, anime con, lit con, fetish con. And each of those cons has dozens of little cliques. I try to fit in with them all.”

“I imagine you mediate a lot,” Doris said.

“Heh,” Kelly replied. “I’ll
fix
things from time to time. ‘Mediate’ would be a stretch. Most people would say the opposite.”

“So are you staff?” Doris asked as they headed down the escalator. She didn’t notice in the crowds the small woman in robes exiting the back of the hotel.

“I used to be a director,” Kelly said. “These days I just run the battlebot tournament. And occasionally MC. And whatever else strikes my fancy. And in here,” he continued, leading her into a ballroom, “we have Edmund’s demonstration about to start. I’d better introduce you quickly.”

He led her to the front of the crowded room where an older man, balding and blocky, was laying out a collection of edged weapons. They ranged from small punch daggers up to halberds with just about every major type in between. A stocky, dark-haired woman with a friendly face was helping him with the layout. She glanced over her shoulder and grinned.

“Edmund, it’s Kelly.”

“Hello, Kelly,” Edmund said, neutrally. “To what do we owe the honor?”

“I come bearing gifts,” Kelly said.

“I’ll check my wallet,” Edmund replied.

“Seriously. Duncan asked me to lead this lovely stray over and introduce her. Doris Grisham, Fig and Edmund Wodinaz. Ed and Fig, Doris. My work here is done.” With that, he wandered off.

“Hey, Doris,” Fig said, shaking her hand. “Folsom mentioned you. Want to help out?”

“Love to,” Doris said.

“Well, grab some blades and start putting them up.”

* * *

Hjalmar watched the old woman coming across the road and sighed. She was heavyset, pear-shaped, and not short. But the reason for the two canes was clearly some sort of serious movement disability, not to mention age. She’d started at the front of the pack crossing the road, and by the time she was halfway across, the policeman stopping traffic was watching her with a baleful eye, as she was the only one still in the road.

She finally made it to the steep, long stairs, took a look up from her hunched position, sighed, took both canes in one hand and grabbed the railing, preparing to hoist herself up.

Hjalmar just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ma’am,” he said, walking over. “If you don’t mind, I can carry you up. If you can take a fireman’s carry.”

“I accept,” the woman said after a moment’s pause. “I’d take the ‘handicapped’ entrance but it’s nearly as bad. And longer.”

“This won’t take a second,” Hjalmar said, bending down and getting the woman across his shoulders. She was
much
heavier than she looked, and she didn’t look light.

He carried her up the stairs and then set her down, carefully. He managed not to groan as the enormous weight came off.

“Got your feet?” he asked.