Tremble in the Dark: A Gwen Farris Novel Read online

  That got a stern look from Ethyl, so she continued to read the missive. It was in ink, and she pointed to smudges over some of the letters.

  "Written by a left handed person. You can see that here. The cribbed print means they were very focused on what they were saying, and that would lead me to assume they were intelligent enough. The spelling isn't that bad either. So a well educated person. Male, naturally. You can tell by the weight of the letters. Women tend to be more flowery and less blocky in their letters. At least in my world. That or a big woman?" That, was the end of what every PBS mystery she'd ever watched had taught her about graphology. Not all that she knew about the field though, since she'd actually researched it at one point.

  It was a business that she could have run from home, over her computer. It just wasn't that in demand really.

  "So." She stopped, and looked at the others, then shrugged. "I guess we call Christophe and see what he knows? I've been meaning to get in touch with him anyway. I don't know how to do it, but not burning bridges and all that?"

  The others didn't understand her, and she didn't explain.

  After all, she had a Duke to accuse of harassing her, didn't she?

  Her ex-fiancé.

  Wonderful.

  Chapter three

  She let her breath close in her throat as she stepped in front of the Telestator. That was an unusual thing for her, and it was more than a little surprising. Sure, she had the idea, it was supposed to be hard to talk to your ex. Christophe was the first one of those that she'd ever had though, and it was surprising how awkward she felt in the moment.

  Then, it was clear she was doing it all wrong. She needed to wait until late at night, about three a.m. and then get drunk and call him up to proclaim her undying love.

  She could hear it in the back of her head, and it was hilarious, but she blocked the idea out and put her hand on the central sphere. She knew the code, since it wasn't that hard to remember.

  "Telestator Operator, how may I direct your call." The woman sounded like she was invisible and standing right there, her voice coming from between the lead colored spheres of the device. It was nearly perfect quality, as far as fidelity went. On the bad side your arm could get sore, since you had to keep a hand on the central orb to keep the whole thing going. She still wasn't completely certain why that was. It might be taking a small bit of magic from the person, to do some of the work, but she didn't feel that way at all. There was no tickle of magic. That meant it was probably about not accidently draining the crystal pack. Those were basically the batteries that ran everything here.

  "I'd like Christophe Aubry. Aubry one, one, two please. If you could tell him that Gwen Farris is calling?"

  There was an intake of breath, and the woman, instead of passing the call through, let out a single, very incredulous, word.

  "No." It wasn't the kind of thing that Gwen was used to hearing from the operators. They were normally pretty polite, and professional. Very much so in fact. The woman seemed to not believe that she was herself.

  "Um, yes? If you'd try to get a line open? It's fairly important."

  "Oh! Sorry ma'am. I was just taken by surprise. I'm very new here. I just started last week and I know that I'm not supposed to talk to the people, more than is needed to find their patch I mean. Let me set that up here. It's in Aubry, so the code for that is... Pretty easy. Single digit even... Ah, here we go, three. Now the county... That's a bit harder. Do you know what County Aubry is in?"

  It sounded confusing at first, but Beth had followed her, and actually knew the answer off the top of her head. That was surprising, since the woman didn't even know how to cook in particular. She could, however, recite Telestator codes from memory?

  "Dial one needs to be set to three. Two will be at nine. Three at seven and four at four. Don't forget the number location, you'll need it when the connection is made."

  Gwen turned and gave her a decently incredulous look, but the Westmorland just tossed her head the tiniest bit.

  "What? I memorized it in my analytical state, just in case something like this ever came up. I have the codes for all the nobles in the Western Kingdom, as well as the Vernors, and most of their close friends."

  Gwen just nodded. In her analytical mode, she was very nearly a perfect recording device, as well as being able to figure out very complex problems and puzzles. She also had the personality of a lizard, and would even fail at times to clean herself or do anything but work until someone told her to go back to normal. That was what she'd been like when they met, and Gwen had gotten the job of watching her. Like a babysitter for an adult. It hadn't taken too long to figure out that she was a lot more than that, but due to the ignorance of most people about the Westmorlands, no one at the Constabulary in town had known to tell her to just relax every now and then.

  They were basically too polite to manage someone like her, was what it had really come down to. Gwen just didn't have that hang up. Still, knowing all the numbers like that might come in handy. Like it just had.

  She had to repeat the address for Christophe, and then there was a third hurdle to get past, since he had a woman that screened his messages for him. Or at least that's how Gwen was going to take it.

  Until the woman she was speaking to suddenly went very, very cold.

  "Gwen Farris? What do you want with Christophe?" Then there was a soft gasp from the same voice, and everything snapped into place for Gwen. Just like that. Almost instantly.

  "It's a private matter, could you connect him now however? Otherwise I'm afraid I'll just have to call back, going through the King first, and that will annoy him. Probably everyone else involved too, don't you think?" She took a few seconds to get a sense of the situation. There it was, feeling like it was slightly to her right and about six inches outside her head. That familiar pressure from the future. Bingo.

  She looked at Beth and realized they needed a hand gesture for that too. Instead she let her face go blank, since the line went dead. Not just quiet, but totally disconnected.

  Gwen sighed.

  "I think we found the culprit already. Well, so much for her being a man. She's probably just a woman with a larger frame. On the good side she's pretty certain that I'm about to contact the man she has a crush on anyway. I still can't see why she sent that letter. I'm pretty well out of the picture now, aren't I? She could just move in and take a swing." It wasn't like Christophe was hard to like, once you got to know him.

  Beth tilted her head.

  "I think I need to go into my precognitive state for this. Will you do the honors?"

  Gwen had to actually tell her to do it, which was built into the protocols. Beth had access to her powers all the time, but she only got the deeper levels when she was in state. It was basically a very controlled, and totally broken alternate personality. Instead of being her uncle Jim, who liked to play cards, this one could tell the future. Really well.

  Gwen waited a few seconds, for her attractive friend to drop into the correct state, and just before she could start into the normal list of questions that she used in cases like these, Beth started talking. That happened occasionally too, so it wasn't a big shock, just a little strange.

  "Lisa Wendell. Her mind is stable, but impressionable. In this case the threats were made because Christophe indicated his regret in regards to you, in a place she could hear. She's... writing this right now. If we don't act soon, she intends to take her own life, out of shame for what she's done."

  Gwen winced, hard. It was the worst kind of thing to have happen right now, wasn't it? Then she mentally took that back. This wasn't fun, and it meant more work for them, but they couldn't just let the woman die. Not over something as silly as this. Or really, they probably shouldn't even let her lose her job. After all, having a bit of a crush on a single man wasn't a vast crime, was it? Even if this bitch was asking for a good butt-kicking.

  "Beth, please go back to your normal waking state now?"

  She blinked a few times
, and her face flushed a bit, indicating something, since that wasn't a normal reaction at all.

  "We need to help her, Gwen. Her suicide note is... Vastly inappropriate. There's a confession about her threats made against us, as well as a declaration of love, which is touching enough, but then she'd gone on to list all the things she missed out in doing with him, and Christophe will be mortified, if it gets out. Miss Wendell is more than a little... I don't really know a word for it."

  Gwen almost provided kinky as a possibility, but then she realized that Beth was just being polite, so that she wouldn't have to betray the woman.

  Not even to her closest friend.

  That was an odd thought. Not that part about not giving up the intimate details. That part was fine, and actually, probably needed. Gwen wasn't worldly about that kind of thing. She knew facts, but had done less than most thirteen year old girls. It could fluster her a bit to have that kind of thing talked about, and they really didn't have any reason to be spying on the woman anyway. Not a good one really. It was the part where she was assuming that she was Beth's closest friend that had gotten her to pause. That seemed right, but was it true?

  A bit of self doubt crept into her mind then, but she shrugged it off. That really didn't matter, did it? Not at the moment. They had to get to Aubry, and do it a lot faster than was normal, just in case it didn't take Lisa a long time to write out her laundry list of naughty regrets.

  Beth took over then and actually had a young boy meet them at the front door with four Teletransport spheres inside ten minutes. She vaguely recognized the kid. Actually, more than that. She knew him. From a dream.

  Or more accurately a hallucination that she'd had a few months before. It had been a very complete one though.

  "Peter?" She'd been told that there was a Peter Westmorland, but that he was about fifty. A pipe smoker too. This kid however was him. She knew it.

  "Yes ma'am?" He looked at her expectantly, but she just nodded, knowing that she didn't really have a lot of time for the whole thing right now.

  "I'd like you to go and talk to Magda in the kitchen. Have a snack, and then recharge your sphere. Then I'd like you to see if you could get yourself assigned here as a runner, in a few weeks? We're going to have a party, so should be back, at least for a few days, around that time." She had no clue what she was doing and there was no sense of being guided to it particularly, but the kid gave her a familiar grin and nodded.

  "I'll get right on that. Is there any special reason that I'm being asked for by name? Or is it just that I happened by at the right time?" The boy was about twelve, and thin, but in a decently muscular way. He was also a telepath, if that was the same as in her hallucination, she didn't think about anything in particular however, since that would just confuse him.

  "I have some training that you can help with. Training me to fly, shoot energy blasts and use precognitive abilities, I have a whole program that I have to restart and it makes Beth sad. Pain devices and all that, but I also want to put together an improved program for unarmed combat instruction. You'd be a good test subject for it. It will hurt, but probably not as much as most of your training." It was an idea at least. These people badly needed to learn how to fight after all. The concept was really pretty primitive here, but if the situation came up, being able to fight with only bare hands could be a lifesaver. They all relied heavily on weapons and magic. Take that away and most of them weren't very competent at all. Not in the Western Kingdom at least.

  The boy straightened a bit and actually looked marginally pleased.

  "I can ask. I can also eat that snack for you, if you want. Do I just go to the back?"

  "Ask Winslow, the butler, to take you."

  Then she and Beth ran, the other woman not even asking her about the scene at all. That was due to time pressure no doubt. The lead colored spheres both had names on them. Addresses really. Aubry and Park Street. A trip there and back, in the blink of an eye. She hit the easily depressed pad on the top of the right one, and was simply there, then took three big steps forward without waiting at all. Beth would come into the grassy lawn at the exact same space, which meant getting clear, unless she wanted something very bad to happen.

  People had said that, but never described the actual effects. It was probably death though. That just made sense. If it were just a few bruises, and a person dropping on top of you, then it would have been spelled out. Without stopping she walked straight to the front porch. It was still light outside and a lot warmer now than the last time she'd been there, but still not hot. The Duchy of Aubry was pretty much Maine and part of Canada, with some of the other states thrown in for good measure. Without waiting, Gwen pounded on the door, her knock a good bit less than friendly sounding. She was in a hurry after all.

  The butler was a new man, probably hired on after the old Duke had died. That had been an unfortunate event that involved him committing suicide rather forcefully, by biting his own tongue and drowning in the blood. Unfortunately she'd been kicking him at the time, so it looked a lot like she'd murdered the man. Christophe had been told that it wasn't the case, and had been at the event, but she didn't have it in her to blame him if he couldn't keep that part straight. He hadn't said anything about it, but what was there to say really? I don't blame you for kicking my dad to death?

  The man in the door, who was about thirty and rather skinny, but well dressed looked at her, and seemed puzzled rather than displeased.

  "May I help you?"

  Gwen nearly froze then, since her only idea had been to get there. The rest was supposed to magically take care of itself, wasn't it? That was the rule, but no words came for a second, until she remembered why they were really there.

  "Ah, right. I'd like to talk to Christophe, and Bethany here needs to be shown to where Lisa Wendell is, as quickly as possible. Don't warn her that Miss Westmorland is coming. It's a surprise."

  The man's expression deepened, making him seem very, very baffled, but he didn't say anything to indicate it. Instead he simply looked at her and nodded once, very formally.

  "The Duke receives guests at invitation only. Perhaps if I gave you a Telestator contact card you could arrange something?" He said it in a pretty friendly way, clearly not wanting to insult her, which was very nice of him.

  She just didn't have time for that, and was about to break his right leg at the knee with a kick, when Bethany moved to the front, her face firm.

  "We're required, due to a matter of honor, not to speak of why we're here. It's imperative that we see Miss Wendell, right now. The visit to see Duke Aubry is a polite fiction, to give us a reason to be here, without leading to embarrassment for others. Gwen is his former fiancé, and is seeking to remain friends, so perhaps a word could be put in?" She gave the fellow a cool look that should have made him freeze, but the man bowed slightly instead.

  "I understand. I'll see to that. Your name ma'am?" He indicated her by looking at her directly, still seeming rather slow moving and polite. Hopefully Lisa would be as well. It would be a horrible time for her to hurry.

  "Gwen Farris." She nearly asked the man to please hurry, but he turned and walked away at a good speed, clearly getting the idea. It wasn't a sprint, but a few minutes later he was back, with several guards. One of them looked at Bethany, and then nodded.

  "This is one of the Westmorlands. I recognize her from the funeral and when they were detailed here a few months back. This other is Katherine Vernor. You know that story."

  The butler nodded.

  "Very well then. Gentlemen, this has been given to me as a matter of honor, so please escort Miss Westmorland to see Miss Wendell. She should be in her office at this hour."

  Beth shook her head.

  "She's in her chambers. She might have... Taken ill, due to unknown causes. That or she's about to. I believe I can prevent that."

  There was no indication that they understood, but they all moved off at a walk that was even faster than what the butler, whatever his name was,
had used. That meant a lot then. Somewhere in what Beth had said, she'd told them what was up, without ever saying the words.

  It meant that she was left standing there, not even really certain if Christophe would ever want to see her again at all. She was dressed nicely enough, but hadn't come to visit really, and it was nearing dinner time. If it saved a life though, she could stand there all night for all she cared. Her feet would hurt, and she'd get tired and bored, but that was a small price to pay, if it got Beth into the right room in time to stop something wretched.

  She smiled, looking at the man in front of her, not trying to impose at all. To her surprise he bowed again and gestured toward the inner hallway with his right hand. It was a big thing, and looked practiced, but a bit too theatrical really. Like he was in a show as an extra, playing the part of a butler, and was really trying to sell the whole thing with every move, hoping to be noticed.

  Walking into the place wasn't exactly new to her, since she'd been there a few times, and it didn't seem to have changed a lot in the last few months. Not here in the front foyer. No place else at all either, as far as she could tell. Places like this probably didn't. Why mess with what had already worked for six generations, right?

  They ended at a sitting room, but it was an empty thing, near the far left side of the building. The colors of the space were all dark green and beige carpet, and while it was clearly tasteful, it had the feeling of a place where business was done. Along one wall there were three desks, and a Telestator was on a large table in the right corner. This wasn't a sitting room at all, but a home office. She was probably supposed to be insulted or something, not being treated as a guest, but the butler had made a good point. You didn't just walk in and expect a Duke to receive you because you knocked on his door.

  So, when Christophe walked in, looking just as young and cute as ever, being only nineteen, or possibly twenty now, but more somber than she remembered him being, she was startled. Less lost looking too, which was good to see. She stood looking at him for a moment, and he did the same, but recovered first.