humans monkeys. “I’m sure your father, your human father, the one who raised you, Big Red, would just love to hear you talk like that.” There was an instant when I thought that had gotten a reaction. Something flickered deep in his one good eye, but it was too fleeting for me to be sure, and then the ice mask was back in place.
“Ah, the large, sweating, red-faced man,” one guard said.
“Perhaps that is how he got the nickname,” another of the supercilious guards suggested. Laughter, like the whisper of water in a fountain, rippled around the room.
A pounding settled behind my eyes and the room felt hot. “John, this is your father. He loves you. And your mother, she’s grieving for you. Missing you. Don’t let them talk like that about them.”
Given the hateful crap I was hearing in this room I was even more glad I hadn’t called Big Red and Meg. John’s voice pulled me from my reverie.
“We returned their human child. They have no cause to complain,” John said.
“What?” This was news to me. I tried to imagine Big Red coping with an unknown man now in his midforties who had spent his entire life in Fey. It must be a nightmare for both of them. “Your mother threw out Parlan?”
“Why wouldn’t she? She has me now.”
“Yeah, and that’s so great,” I said. I wondered if this new pod person, John, would recognize sarcasm. It seemed he did.
“You are once again becoming rude.”
“You don’t even sound like yourself. Who are you? What’s happened to you, John? Where is the man who was my friend and…” I choked a bit, and didn’t say the word that hovered on my lips.
John didn’t answer. He looked over at Qwendar. “How long is this going to go on? I agreed to this meeting because of the position you hold, but this is tiresome in the extreme.”
Qwendar looked over at me. I read pity in his eyes. “Well, Linnet? Are you satisfied? Have you ascertained what you wished?”
“No.” The word was so explosive that one of the guards actually jumped a bit. “This isn’t John. Putting aside whatever might have been between us, John would never talk about his father that way.”
“Perhaps he has remembered who and what he is,” Qwendar said.
John stepped closer to me. He was wearing a scent that was like sandalwood and honey, but beneath it I caught the tang of sweat, acrid and musky. “You may talk about the human that raised me, but this is really about you. Because I bedded you once, you imagine that I care for you.”
Sometimes agony can emerge as laughter. I choked on a bitter chuckle. “Bedded? Really? What are we, in a Victorian romance novel? My John, and Big Red’s son, would have said ‘fucked.’”
“If you choose to be denigrated in that way—”
“Oh, you’re doing a fine job of that all on your own.”
“Look, I used you because you were there. Nothing more. So stop thinking there was ever anything between us, or that there will ever be. You are part of a life that no longer exists for me. Your presence in my life now bothers me. So. Go. Away.”
He spun, balanced like a dancer on the heel of one boot, and walked toward the window. I thought he might return to his contemplation of the gardens, but instead there was the wavering of his outline and he and his entourage vanished into Fey. My rage faded, leaving me cold. I stood bereft and shivering. If a boot had been planted on my chest it wouldn’t have hurt this much.
“I wish he’d just refused to see me.” My voice sounded hollow and very far away. “He could have done that. He didn’t have to be cruel. This can’t be happening.” I ran my fingers through my hair, clutched at it so hard it pulled and hurt.
“What will you do?” Qwendar asked.
“I don’t know, but it can’t end like this. It just can’t!”
“Perhaps things are different with humans, but that seemed like a pretty solid rejection.”
I shook my head. “He came to see me. He brought me the flowers. Something to tell me he still cared. He’s being controlled. Maybe that thing she put in his eye. Maybe it can be removed.” I broke off abruptly, arrested by a sudden thought. I turned and started for the door.
“What? What is it? I could see you thought of something.”
“What’s been done can be undone, and now I’ve got a source who grew up with the Alfar and may have some advice.”
“The human exchanged for John.”
I made a gun with my finger, pointed it at him. “You got it on one.”
18
David came into the broom closet the next morning just as I was getting ready to dial the O’Shea household. He was carrying a copy of
“You don’t look upset.”
“I’m going to if you don’t stop staring at me like I’m the corpse at a wake and tell me what’s going on,” I replied.
“Qwendar called me early this morning. He said you had a rough meeting with John, and he was concerned about you. Did you see John?”
“Yes. But this is bullshit. How dare Qwendar call you. As if you have anything to do with this at all. And how could he think I’d go into a decline because a man—” I shut up before I could reveal just how much I was hurt.
“Why did you do that without telling me?” David asked.
“Because Qwendar called me late last night, and I don’t see how it’s any of your business anyway.”
“O’Shea was an employee of the firm. We have an interest.”
“Okay, that’s just hooey. He was an independent contractor. I know full well that the senior partners hired another private eye to handle investigations for the firm. They certainly weren’t losing any sleep over John.”
“But you were, and the firm does have an interest in you.”
“And I’m fine. Actually I’m glad you’re here. I was about to come see you. I talked with Kerrinan yesterday, and he just flat admitted that the Alfar throw glamours, almost without thinking about it was how he put it.”
“Palendar will deny it,” David said.
“And an accused murderer probably isn’t the best witness to refute that claim, but when you look at Kerrinan’s statement and the statistical evidence, it’s pretty damn clear.”
“So we need to find an Alfar who will come clean,” David said. “Although it rather galls me to be doing LeBlanc’s job.”
“To be fair she probably hasn’t been able to find an Alfar who would testify. No offense, but the Powers tend to stick together. We do want an equitable outcome, don’t we? And it’s pretty clear the humans can’t fairly compete.”
“So you’ve decided against McPhee’s position?” he asked.
“I thought about it a lot, but ultimately his analogy breaks down. Yes, money can be an obstacle to people getting cosmetic surgery, but people can acquire money. They can’t acquire Alfar magic.” An idea began to blossom. “We have the right to call witnesses too,” I said.
“Yes, so? We don’t have an Alfar either.”
“But we can get one. Well, he’s sort of a half-assed Alfar, but I’m betting he might be willing to testify about Alfar magic since he just got kicked out of Fey on his ass. Assuming he knows about their magic, of course. I’d have to find out.”
