Raquel's Trade

Part 7: Storm Clouds Gather

by Dr. Mercurious

 

MONDAY

 

Jessica took the stairs up to her apartment two at a time. She always was eager to come back to this little place she called home because it was one of the few areas she could truly relax. Today, she had an additional incentive. I can't believe it, she thought with glee. Only two days have gone by and I practically trip over the Guide! Jessica had heard an unGifted, or non-magician, had been 'chosen' as one but until Raquel walked into the elevator this morning hadn't believed it. Not that it mattered, really. Any little bit of chaos was good.

She gave her wards the once-over; it wouldn't do for the neighbors to overhear something she couldn't explain. Satisfied that nothing from the mundane world was going to surprise her, Jessica resumed her real form; skunks were pretty and all, but nothing beat her real body. Abruptly, the black areas of her fur lightened to a reddish hue as her hands and feet darkened to brown. Her muzzle lengthened and her ears more than doubled in size. Her tail shrunk to become something bushier with a white tip, dividing into three as it did so.

With her transformation complete, the kitsune padded into her bedroom and over to a plain-looking mirror hanging on a wall, just big enough to see one's face and neck in. A brief thought about what the other Avalons who couldn't shape shift like kitsunes -- which was just about the rest of them -- did when the pressures of living with a body shape that wasn't your own got to them crossed Jessica's mind. Probably the reason there aren't many of us on Mundane Earth, she thought as she lit an incense brazier on her dresser. Unfortunately, hiding the fact that there was magic on Mundane Earth was one of the few things that most Whites and Blacks agreed on. Personally, Jessica thought the reason for it -- to avoid unGifted hunting down and killing Gifted furs and Avalons -- wasn't a realistic fear in these modern times. After all, look at all the appreciative looks Raquel is getting, she mused

Her preparations finished, she walked back to the mirror and traced a circle three times over its surface, counterclockwise. Its surface darkened to reveal the squat and powerful face of a tan-furred bulldog -- the Lord of the Black, whose specialty was Necromancy.

She grinned at him. "Eddie! Whassup?" A dangerous thing to do, but no kitsune ever showed complete respect for someone in higher authority and she wasn't about to be the first.

"Contemplatin' an ol' family recipe -- fox-tail soup," he replied with a broad grin. "What can I do for ya, darlin'?"

"I found the Guide," Jessica blurted.

Eddie's powerful jaw dropped "Well I'll be dipped in batter and chicken-fried."

"You leave your sex life out of this. Let's discuss rewards, shall we? I think finding her in something under three days qualifies me for a biggie."

"Hold on a moment there," he growled. "I'm gonna need proof first."

Jessica gave him her most put-upon expression. "Don't you trust me?"

"I know kitsune; you'd prank the Devil himself."

"Hmmph! No nookie for you. As it happens I do have proof." She went over to her pocketbook and took out a wad of cotton. "It wasn't easy getting this lock of hair, let me tell you," she said, holding out to the mirror. "Even with her boon granted."

He briefly inspected the cotton wad and nodded once. "Now what's this about her boon?"

Jessica related her first meeting with the much-improved Raquel, including the tigress' new look, and added the note she'd seen tacked to the bulletin board later that day.

Eddie grinned. "Called the fur out, did she? I'm gonna like this gal! She's got big ones."

"Actually they're about C-cups, but she's got four of them so it makes up for it," Jessica shrugged.

"The Whites are gonna shit a brick," he chuckled, ignoring her bad joke. "Since she's a norm, they can't send her to Avalon. Means anyone who sees her will get to wonderin' about what's real and what ain't. That helps our cause out just fine."

"'Chaos means change, change means growth, growth means life'," she returned, the code that those of the Black like her lived by. "So, how about it? Do I get a bonus for coming though so quickly?"

"Sure do, darlin'," Eddie grinned. "Now, I'll give ya a choice; ya can make your demand or ya can let me give you a surprise."

She put her hands on her hips, lashing her tails. "Yeah, that's a real tempting offer," she retorted sarcastically. "And if I don't like this 'surprise'?"

"Then you give it back to me and make yer request," he answered. "A win-win scenario."

She regarded the bulldog's still-grinning face dubiously. One did not become Lord of the Black by being stupid, and in only ten years of holding his office Eddie was being hailed as one of the brightest Lords. It didn't help that her kitsune curiosity was gnawing at her.

"Well," he urged, "whaddya got ta lose, darlin'?"

She shook her head. She really did have nothing to lose "Okay, what is it?"

"This." The image vanished. A ripple appeared on the mirror's surface, like a disturbance on water, and a small felt-wraped irregular bundle thrust itself through and floated up to her. Jessica grabbed it and wasted no time in pulling the wrapping off to get a good look.

She almost dropped it when she saw what it was.

Eddie's image reappeared. "Before you go askin' me where I got it, you should know that the guy didn't know what he had and he ain't a magic type, either."

She ignored him. Bringing it to her muzzle, she inhaled deeply; underneath he smell of dust and seasoned wood, the scent of her one true love's magic still clung to the lyre fragment. "I remember when she made this." Her voice sounded faint and shaky to her own ears. "She sang it from an ashwood tree; one of its branches reshaped itself to form the lyre. When she plucked it off the trunk, I saw the strings -- forged from the moonlight. That's why no one could duplicate its sound, you know. It was all one solid piece."

"She must have been one special lady to win the love of a kitsune." Eddie's voice sounded almost respectful.

"The world will never know the like of Xendaene Mithrilsinger again," Jessica murmured. She clutched the lyre fragment to her like a life preserver.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that, darlin'." The Lord of the Black said. "See, I used that lyre piece to contact her spirit, and I couldn't. With an item so closely linked to her, it should've been a guarantee -- unless she ain't in the Afterlife anymore, that is.

The kitsune's head snapped up. "What!?"

His return grin was huge. "The Dark Minstrel's been reborn."

Jessica's breath caught. Somewhere, out there, her true love wore different flesh, her knowledge of herself buried, just waiting for the right stimulus to resurface. The thought made her quiver. "You want to awaken her, and you want my help."

"Can't think of anyone better to help than her lover," he shrugged. "But hey, no one's forcin' you to say yes, darlin'. Ya got yer momento right there in the palm o' your hand. Ain't like I'm gonna take it away from ya."

"What does it matter to you?" Her lips drew back into a snarl.

His jovial visage hardened into a scowl. "Call it an obsession started when I first learned about her and figured she got the fuzzy end o' the lollipop. Call it a whim if ya feel like it. Now, ya want in or no?"

Jessica closed her hand around the lyre fragment tightly. There was only one answer she could give, regardless of what it would cost her.

 

TUESDAY

 

Alexander Gregan leafed through Ms. Fayral's personnel folder again to make sure he hadn't missed any information. Nothing stood out in her history to name her as especially brilliant. There were some notes in it about a peculiar medical condition, but they were unclear as to precisely what it was. Perhaps she's undergone an attitude change, the thought to himself. A disfigurement, if that is what she has, could account for her not using her full potential. Maybe she's finally decided she doesn't care how she looks. Personally, he had never really cared about other businessfur's opinions of him, a CEO who would do things like have a meeting with a 'lowly' employee. Other businessfurs also didn't have company that was solidly operating in the black without having to resort to interpretive accounting methods.

His speakerphone clicked on. "Uhh....Mr. Gregan, Ms. Fayral is here to see you," said the voice of the security fur at the elevator.

There's a slight tremor to his pitch, Alexander thought. She must be fairly distinctive-looking to illicit that sort of reaction from Boris. "Send her in," he told the speakerphone. He leaned back in his leather chair, placed her folder in front of him, and smoothed his features. Whatever her disfigurement was, he was determined not to react to it. I think she's had enough of that, he told himself sternly.

When he saw the two-headed tigress enter his office, he blinked once or twice to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. Now this is unexpected. Beneath her blouse he could see the muscles of someone who wasn't afraid to work out with free-weights. The fact that she had two heads became a meaningless consideration for the moment. He always did have a weakness for muscular women, a trait very hard to find in those considered 'safe' for someone in his earning bracket to go out on dates with. Beneath her assured poise Alexander could read her body language and see her newly-won confidence.

He inclined his head to her. "Good morning, Ms. Fayral." He briefly wondered if she was one person or two, but dismissed the notion. Considering she used only one first name, either she was a single entity or two that acted and thought as one.

"Thank you, Mister Gregan," she said with her right head. He didn't detect any hint of unease, and her twin emerald gazes met his own blue squarely.

Good. I like an employee with spine, he thought. "I called you here today in order to compliment the work you've done on Mr. Ringtail's behalf. Excellently done, considering the workload."

She blushed slightly. "I have certain advantages," she answered in a modest tone. "I can concentrate on two tasks at once."

The realization of what she said hit Alexander squarely but painlessly between the eyes. He began to wonder about the capabilities of an office manager who could multitask to that degree. Or a stockbroker. Or a police detective. Any profession. Competing against someone with such an advantage was a foregone conclusion. All that natural ability, he marveled, stifled because society made it a point of telling her she couldn't contribute due to an accident of birth. Except now, for whatever reason, she's learned otherwise. It occurred to him that it had been so very long since he'd had the chance to shape someone, and last time there'd been less to work with. "In fact, I have other projects that I believe could benefit from someone of your abilities," he said. inspiration striking. "Would you be interested?"

"Only if it doesn't affect Mr. Ringtail's position, sir," her left head answered quickly.

If it wasn't for his long experience at being able to watch facial expressions he would have missed the annoyed look on her right head. Good; loyalty to one's employer is a rare trait these days -- with some justification. Alexander wondered idly how to correctly judge the feelings of an opponent with two faces. Hope you're looking at the one showing the true feelings, that's how. I'll have to drill her in sending misleading signals. "Absolutely not," he assured her. "Mr. Ringtail is one of my most valuable employees. If you like, consider it a test for consideration of a promotion.

The word 'test' seemed to be a red flag; Raquel -- Ms. Fayral; keep it impersonal, she's your employee, he warned himself -- sat up straight, both faces painted in resolution. She needs schooling in her body language, he mused. Never give signals to your enemy, after all.