Chronicles Of The Keeper - The Long Hot Summoning Part 4

"Cleaning the splattered remains of a history essay off your bedroom walls."

"Right." A lapse in concentration and the Riel Rebellion had spilled out of her closet. It had taken her the entire weekend to clean up the mess, and most of it had turned out to be nonrecyclable. "I think I've seen enough. Let's go."

The purely physical lock on the door took only a trickle of power to open.

Sam radiated disapproval as he slipped through into the store. "Breaking and entering."

"Technically, only entering." Locking the door behind them, Diana tried not to sneeze at the overpowering odor of gardenia coming off the display of candles immediately to her left. A quick glance showed that the gardenia had easily overpowered vanilla, cinnamon, bayberry, lilac, belladonna, monkshood, pholiotina, and yohimbe. Unless the Colonial Candle Company was branching out into herbal hallucinogens, at least half the display had clearly been brought over from the Otherside.

Not just the bracelet, then.

Rubbing her nose, she moved cautiously into the store, skirting a locked gla.s.s cabinet filled with crystal b.a.l.l.s, and ending up nearly treading on Sam's tail as, hissing, he backed away horn.. . . Diana bent over to take a closer look and had no better idea what animal the pile of stuffed creatures was supposed to represent. In spite of neon fur, they looked remarkably lifelike, given a loose enough definition of both life and like.

"I was just startled," Sam muttered, vigorously was.h.i.+ng a front paw.

"If I was closer to the ground, they'd have startled me, too."

"I wasn't afraid."

"I know." She stroked down the raised hair along his back as she straightened. "I think we can safely say the hole's not out here. Let's check out the storeroom."

"It's not back there either."

Not Sam. Not unless Sam's voice had deepened, aged, and moved up near the ceiling.

Diana dropped down behind a rack of resin frogs dressed in historical military uniforms and began to gather power.

"Think about it for a minute, Keeper; if I wasn't on your side, I'd have already sounded the alarm. Why don't you drop the fireworks and come over here so we can talk."

He, whoever he was, -had a point. Diana stood, slowly, and looked around. The shadows made it difficult to tell for certain, but she'd have been willing to bet actual cash money that she and Sam were alone in the store. "Where are you?"

"Up in the corner."

The only thing she could see in the corner was the convex circle of a security mirror. Just as she was realizing the reflection seemed a little off, a familiar pair of blue-on-blue eyes appeared. "You've got to be kidding me. They're using a magic mirror for security?"

"Ain't life a b.i.t.c.h," the mirror agreed. "Got pulled out of a well-deserved retirement, quiet hall, nice view out an oriel window, and got stuffed up here by Gaston the Wondertroll."

"So there's a real troll?"

"Large as life, and twice as ugly. Actually, larger than life if we're reflecting accurately."

"Great."

"I wouldn't worry about him, kid; he's just the front man." Faint blue frown lines. "Front troll. Those actually running this segue are keeping their heads tucked well down until it's too late for your lot to stop it."

Good thing she'd touched that bracelet, then. The energy discharged had been enough to crack the s.h.i.+elding and send the Summons. No touching, no Summons, no chance to stop the . . . "Wait a minute. Did you say, segue?"

"I did."

"Okay. This is one of those times when I really wish I could swear." She took three quick steps away from the mirror. Three quick steps back. "I should have known there was more to this than a cheesy gift shop selling ..." A glance down. ". . . fake fairies on sticks."

"Look again."

Under the lacquer and the glitter . . .

"Eww."

"Duck!"

"Where?" Diana didn't even want to think about what these guys could do to a duck. A sudden circle of light hit the back wall of the store and she dropped to the ground. Oh. Duck.

The emporium's door rattled as someone shook it, testing the lock.

Now who could that be? Two guesses and the first one doesn't count. Flat against the carpet to keep the curve of her backpack behind cover, she tried not to think about the dark stain just off the end of her nose.

"Think you can get away with anything. Young bodies, supple, lissome."

Adding that to lithe and limber, there seemed to be a thesaurus specifically for dirty old men.

"You can't hide forever." The circle of light swept across the store and disappeared. Through the gla.s.s came a m.u.f.fled shunk kree, shunk kree as the security guard moved away.

Remembering the warning delivered by imaginary fingers, Diana hissed, "Sam, stay down," a heartbeat before the light flashed back through the window. She counted a slow ten after that light disappeared before she stood. "Sam?"

He crawled out from behind a box of glow-in-the-dark Silly Putty and shook his fur back into place. "Don't worry about me. I'm way faster than a geriatric rent-a-cop."

"Good. So." Arms folded, she stared up at the mirror. "Let's cut to the chase before we're interrupted again."

"Fine with me, Keeper. Here's the deal: I give you what help I can; in return, you get me out of here when you shut this place down."

"Agreed."

"And you recognize that when the s.h.i.+t hits the fan, I'm breakable and more than just a little exposed."

She nodded. "We'll be careful."

"We? That would be you and the cat?"

"Us, too." Diana took one last look around the store and decided she really didn't need to know just what exactly the weights on the wind chimes were made of. "I think we're going to need a little help."

Chapter TWO.

Dropping his spray bottle of window cleaner onto the old-fas.h.i.+oned wooden counter, Dean McIssac crossed the small office and caught the phone on the second ring. "Elysian Fields Guest House." A small frown of concentration appeared as he flipped open the reservation book, a leather-bound tome with the phases of the moon prominently displayed by each date. "Yes, sir, we still have rooms available for next Wednesday. We can certainly accommodate you and your mother. Sorry? Oh. Your mummy. No, that's fine; many of our guests arrive after dark. We'll hold the rooms until midnight. A dehumidifier? That can be arranged, I understand how mold and mildew could be a problem. No, unfortunately, I can't guarantee the Keeper will be here, but I'm sure you'll find our . . ." His cheeks flushed. "Thank you, sir. I'll see you Wednesday."

"Flushed is a good look on you."

"Claire!" The receiver fell the last six inches into the cradle as Dean flag-jumped the counter and gathered the smiling Keeper into his arms.