Page 13 of Shadow Dreaming

“Sure. As soon as the last batch is out of the oven, we can head out there. Let me clean up the kitchen and change,” she said. “It should take about twenty minutes.”

“I’ll go play with the cats until then.” I headed into the living room, settling down on the floor to play a rousing game of feather toy with Murdoch and Jangles. Mr. Crumbles, who now had a permanent cage built across the side of one wall, gave a screech and then began to warble one of the more popular songs that I knew Penn listened to a lot.

Bend me, beat me, please me, tease me, you know how to seize my heart…

Coming out of a slightly-off key macaw’s mouth, it sounded lispy, and the fact that he bobbled up and down as he sang was enough to make me lean back against the sofa and laugh. As I went back to the feather toy game, Mr. Crumbles fluttered his bright green and blue wings, and squawked again.

Penn had changed into a pair of corduroy jeans, a warm sweater top, and a pair of black suede slouchy biker boots. She wrapped her hair up in a bandana, tying it at the nape of her neck, and then slid on a pea coat.

“Ready?” I asked.

She nodded, changing out her handbag for a wristlet wallet, sliding the loop over her wrist. “I’m ready. The oven’s off and I put the cookies out of reach where the cats can’t get them.”

The rain had finally let up and now it was down to a drizzle. As I put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway, I realized that I was tired. The weekend had been good. Penn and I had gone out on a drive to Snoqualmie Falls, but now it felt like the week had already gone to hell and was shadowed with a cloud of tension. Part of me wished I hadn’t shook Benny down for his disloyalty.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Penn said.

“I’m worried. Ever since Benny told me about those two sorcerers—because I’m pretty sure that’s who they were—I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Brim Fire. And…” I wasn’t sure whether to tell her this or not, but it felt like I should. “I can’t help but feel that you’re in danger. I don’t know—it’s just a premonition.”

“Speaking of danger…or not…shouldn’t you be at Devon’s gym tonight?”

I shook my head. “No, we had to cancel this week’s sessions. His mother’s not feeling well and he needed to visit her. He’s in Illinois right now. He’ll be back next week, providing everything’s okay.”

“That’s too bad. I hope she’s okay,” Penn said. “My mother called me the other day.”

“How is Eileen?”

“She’s okay. She takes long walks on the beach every day. She’s old now, you know. I age a lot slower than she does—even though I’m half Fae, my aging process is so much slower than that of humans. My mother was young when she had me, but even so, she’s in her eighties.” She sounded wistful. “I wish we could have gotten along better, but I think…She’s healthy for her age, but I don’t know how much longer she has.”

I sighed. Aging was so hard when you were a different race than your parents or siblings. My mother had died when I was a little girl, and I was young compared to most of my friends, but I’d age slowly, too.

“Can you go talk to her?”

Penn shook her head. “I don’t think one heart-to-heart will bridge a gap that’s always been there. My mother’s still in love with a man who discarded her over seventy years ago. The moment he found out about me, he was gone. She didn’t blame me, but she didn’t know how to raise me, and my Fae blood makes me different. Eileen has never understood why I didn’t want to settle down and give her grandchildren, and no matter how much I explain it to her, she doesn’t get it. Like you, I’m caught between two worlds, and I’m not sure how to navigate either.”

“It would help if the Fae would let you in,” I said.

“Yeah, but they won’t. Maybe someday things will change, but for now, I’m locked out of my father’s world, and the people in my mother’s world…”

“I get it,” I said. “I don’t think I feel it as keenly. My mother didn’t know much about demons, but she accepted me for who I was. And since I lost her so young, I never had to cope with her disappointment—if she ever felt that way.”

“You need to turn right, here,” Penn said. “We’re headed toward the right end of Glider Park. The heavily wooded end.”

Glider Park was along the water—along Lake Washington. It was a long, narrow park, with part of it on a steep ravine. Mayflower Street split off of Lake Washington Boulevard, sloping down at a steep grade. During the iciest parts of winter, the police would close it off to avoid cars from sliding down to crash near the bottom. Even during the rain, however, the speed limit was a mere ten miles per hour, given the potential to hydroplane your way right into the water.

At the bottom of the road, the one-way street ran through the narrow park, until—about a quarter mile later—it began to rise again, leading up to street level again. The park was mostly a narrow strip of grassland next to the water, and ravine on the other side, thick with trees and undergrowth.

“Where should I park?” I asked.

“There’s a parking strip up ahead to your left. You’ll see the curb stops—they’re painted a bright yellow so that you can see them. Pull into one of those spots.”

We continued on for a moment until I saw the row of cement curb stops along the left side of the road. They were angled for easy parking—no parallel parking needed here—and I pulled into the nearest and turned off the engine.

As we sat there, the silence of the park descended and I suddenly felt calmer. Nature always did that, even though I wasn’t what you’d call a country girl. I loved the city, but at times, I needed solitude and nature.

Penn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I love it here,” she said. “When Hecate first wanted me to become a portal keeper, I was hesitant. It’s such a big responsibility. But mostly, I love it when I come out to check on them.”

“I thought portal keepers sat by the portals all day long,” I said. “Though that would be a stupid thought. You’ve never done that.” I’d never addressed it because Penn was so reticent about the matter, but it was a good time to learn more about how the whole thing worked.

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