Deirdre the Damned

Deirdre the Damned

Book 2 of the Wizards’ Inn Series

By Rob Summers

Copyright 2013 by Rob Summers

All rights reserved.

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To my nieceling Mary

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1: Don’t Open the Door

Chapter 2: Don’t Use Your Magic

Chapter 3: Don’t Knock Yourself Out

Chapter 4: Don’t Make Big Plans

Chapter 5: Don’t Go in the Palace

Chapter 6: Don’t Enter the Forest

Chapter 7: Don’t Visit the Witch

Chapter 8: Don’t Trust Yourself

Chapter 9: Don’t Touch Anything

Chapter 10: Don’t Kill Yourself Over It

Other Titles by Rob Summers

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Chapter 1: Don’t Open the Door

Tantalus, too, I saw in grievous torment…

—Homer

The reason Deirdre Bernard was dragging a single suitcase across the dark, snow-covered countryside was that, one by one, she had left her other luggage pieces behind her. As to why she was plodding wearily toward the home of her cousin Bob and his wife Julie, she told herself it was due to a mixture of curiosity and desperation. She was curious because her cousin’s place was known throughout Rayburn County, Indiana, as the site of bizarre happenings. She herself had witnessed some very strange things there the previous summer and badly wanted to know what it was all about.

But curiosity alone would not have brought her out in the cold for this half-mile hike across orchard and rough ground, through fences, and over ditches, cursing regularly as she went. Desperation was her real reason. Life with her parents had become total war. They had grounded her and had sold her car, the latter on the basis that she had lost her driver’s license. They had also taken away her cell phone, barred her from the use of their phones, promised never to bail her out of jail again, and lectured her into a state of constant, angry dullness. It felt like they were killing her. All this she had countered with the typical seventeen-year-old delinquent’s tactics of back talk, lying, disobedience, theft, and property destruction. But her parents were winning.

She could not take another day of it, no, not another hour. So while her parents had slept, she had left her house on foot, the only mode of travel available to her. The little town of Mercury would have been a more agreeable destination, but it was several miles away, and there was not enough traffic on the local back roads to sustain hitchhiking. So it was Bob and Julie’s or nothing. She had little hope, however, that she could make this visit work. She did not like Bob and Julie, a couple in their very early twenties who had been married just a few months. They were such sanctimonious goody-goodies that she felt living with them might be worse than with her parents. Furthermore, they did not like her, were not expecting her, and would probably push her into a car and take her back to her parents like lightning. And then what? Deirdre whimpered a little as she walked and then emitted something like a snarl.

As she passed through the overgrown bit of orchard that was on Cousin Bob’s land, she saw no lights in his house windows. The hulking foursquare, dating back to the Civil War era, was so dark that, crossing the yard, she could not see the inn sign. For Bob and Julie fancied themselves innkeepers, and above the two stairs rising to the front porch hung a sign that, she knew, read ‘Bob & Julie’s Wizards’ Inn, Established 1861.’ As for the ‘1861,’ Deirdre’s parents often said that they had never heard of that house being used as an inn until now. They also had serious doubts whether Bob and Julie had ever had a paying guest. So it almost seemed to Deirdre that the sign meant nothing, except that last summer she had found Bob’s non-paying guests to be the weirdest people she had ever met, calling themselves Magi and keeping mythological pets. Cousin Bob had stumbled into something out of this world.

Blundering her way onto the porch, still dragging her suitcase, she hoped very strongly that another sort of non-paying guests that she had met in the summer would be here tonight. True, they had been a nasty, gun-toting crew who had captured the inn and had taken her and her parents captive for a few hours. And yes, they were said to have killed many Magi and probably had been intending to murder Bob and her parents. But the main thing to Deirdre was that these Rebels, as they called themselves, had been free, free to go wherever they wanted—by time travel so their leader Junior had said—and to do whatever they wanted. They had been filthy rich and lawless, and Junior had invited her to join them and come along for the good times. It would have been so sweet, but his girlfriend Vivien had gotten jealous of her and had pushed her off the bus. She still knew nothing of the origin of the Rebels, only knew that since that night she had wished a thousand times over that she had become one of them.

She knocked hard at the front door and waited. Bob and Julie would be getting out of bed for this, so she would have to be patient. In a minute she heard them coming, talking groggily to each other.

…hope it’s not that gnome again, Julie was saying. Don’t open the door until I get the broom to whack him with.

I’m not opening it, Bob said, "until I see who’s out there. It’s way too late for Magi to come, and the Chosen Ones Tribune says there’s a werewolf alert over on the Marco Road. You never know but one of them might show up around here."

Julie laughed and made some semi-ferocious growling sounds.

The door had a window in it. As Bob flipped on the porch light, Julie, looking around her tall husband’s shoulder, suddenly stopped laughing.

Oh, save us, it’s Deirdre, Bob said in a sinking voice.

I heard that! Deirdre said. Like I’m worse than any monster you can imagine? Open your stinking door!

Bob Himmel sat at the kitchen table across from his cousin while Julie microwaved some water to make tea. Deirdre was looking the most vulnerable he had ever seen her, slumped over, half-crying. She had been slow to tell him why she was here. Now she was waiting for his response.

Uncle Dave and Aunt Marcie would have a cow if we took you in, he said. She just looked at him, her dark eyes surrounded by too-heavy eye-liner that tears had smeared down her pretty face. You do know I’d have to tell them? he added.

No, you wouldn’t have to.

Yes, Deirdre, we would, Julie said, her back to them as she stood at the sink counter. You’re only seventeen; they’d have to agree to it or it wouldn’t be legal.

Well, maybe they’d like to be rid of me.

You bet they would, Bob said with a laugh, for he never wasted too much politeness on his cousin. They might allow it, but even then, you’d have to go by our house rules. Tough rules.

Well, maybe I’ll just go move into town with some of my friends.

That won’t work because you don’t have any money.

What makes you think I don’t have any money? she challenged.

Oh, I don’t know, he said, grinning, maybe, oh, that you never do? Like maybe that you always spend every dollar you get so fast that you practically set the bills on fire?

She looked at him with steady misery. "OK, I’m broke. No need to, like, make a joke out of it. But I could go stay with Uncle Fred and Aunt Darla if you’ll take me there."

Bob knew this was just blowing smoke. It was Fred and Darla’s children, Deirdre’s cousins, who had first nicknamed her Deirdre the Damned.

Deirdre, Julie said, placing a cup and a tea bag beside the girl and sitting down, you know you’ve tried that before. You’ve tried all the relatives. Bob tells me there’s nobody in your extended family that will have you. Didn’t something happen to Darla’s car? I think it was a total—

No it wasn’t, and mind your own business about that!

While Deirdre steeped her teabag, Bob considered. Though in her short life his cousin had done almost every wicked thing a rural Indiana girl could do, including drugs, he nevertheless made up his mind to give her a chance.

I’ll call Uncle Dave and see if he’d mind you staying with us for a while. I’ll tell him we’ll make sure you get to school.

No prob, she murmured, I’m expelled.

Oh, Deirdre, Julie said gently, and you were always so smart.

Very smart, Bob knew. So smart that she had deceived and conned everyone she met. What were he and Julie letting themselves in for? He made a mental note to lock up the checkbook, the credit card, and any cash before returning to bed. Better hide the car keys too.

Right now you look like you need some sleep, he said. I’ll take your suitcase up to a room.

Oh, yeah, about my suitcases. I left three of them along the way in the snow, one big one and two little bags.

Another silence.

So does that mean you expect me to go get them? he asked.

Yeah, sure.

And if I do, would the word ‘thanks’ force itself up out of your throat?

She shot out a bit of profanity. This is not going to work, she said, half rising. I’m here ten minutes and you’re on me already.

She looked surprised when Bob and Julie laughed.

It’s worse than that, Dee-dee, he said. We’re going to make you do chores.

Since she had plainly had no sleep before her late night arrival, Deirdre was allowed to sleep in the next morning. In the midmorning, the Himmels were sitting in their living room chatting when they heard her come slowly down the stairs and saw her, dressed in pajamas, pass through the entry hall, and pause in the doorway. Her eyes were on the carpet.

Well, that was a way, she said blurrily. I don’t know, I don’t know. What was.

What is it, Deirdre? Julie asked with concern.

Bob was grinning. She’s doing it again. She’s sleepwalking. You remember I told you she’s been a sleepwalker since she was a little girl? I forgot about it last night or I would have put a piece of heavy furniture in front of her door or something like that, for her safety. She’s fallen down the stairs before at her house. He turned to her and gleefully whispered, Hey, Dee-dee, what do you want?

Deirdre’s gaze did not stir from the carpet. I—went for. Sort of. In the orchard. Only.

That’s right, Bob said soothingly. What else?

Julie bopped him on the arm. Stop that. You shouldn’t make fun of the poor girl.

She’ll never know it. And look at you, you’re laughing. Don’t try to hide it. All right, I’ll just lead her back up to her room like her parents do, and this afternoon I’ll install a latch inside so she can lock herself in when she goes to bed.

But won’t she still be up wandering around inside her room?

Well, yeah, but that won’t hurt anything. I mean, what else? Strap her down?

Deirdre was up in time for lunch and then made a very poor job of helping with the dishes, complaining that the Himmels had no dishwashing machine. Afterward, she might have been expected to retreat to her bedroom to listen to her iPod, but instead she went to the living room, passing through a doorway where a new door had been hung since the Rebels had smashed up the place in the summer. She was interested in some odd things in this room, particularly a badly discolored mirror that, the previous summer, had been rigged somehow to talk. Also a strange old chair that seemed to function like truth serum for anyone unfortunate enough to sit down on it. In years past both had been ordinary relics, she remembered, fit for the local landfill; and the mirror at any rate still looked worthless. But the Magi, she guessed, had done things to them, had enchanted them or something.

The fireplace that the Rebels had broken apart was gone now, and its chimney opening plastered over, but the darkened and stained mirror was still in its place on the wall. To its right a large section of wall had been paneled over. She recalled that, months ago, in drives by this place, she had seen a tarpaulin covering this same area and later some new exterior siding had been put on. She knew the Rebels had not damaged this wall, so apparently the Magi had done something strange here too.

Ignoring the paneling and the oddly attractive chair, she sauntered to the mirror and, facing it, asked it if it had anything to say. Apparently not. She cursed it casually to get it interested but still nothing.

Anyway, something on the edge of her vision was distracting her. She turned to see a bright metal statuette that stood on a little table by the open door. This was the image of an Asian woman, perhaps a goddess, plump and exotically dressed. Even to Deirdre’s uninformed judgment, this was plainly a piece of fine artwork, but far more importantly it appeared to be one big hunk of solid gold. It was a good ten inches high or more and had a thick base. Why it must weigh twenty pounds at least!

Through her mind flashed several swift thoughts, first that this must be another Mage gift and that her idiotic cousin was too scrupulous to sell it. But she herself had no scruples at all. If she could get this thing to town—and for this she’d be willing to walk the four miles—she could score enough cash to leave the county, leave the state, go to the Riviera! But as she took a step toward it, Julie appeared in the doorway, holding a dishcloth.

The older girl seemed to note the direction of Deirdre’s gaze. What are you doing, Deirdre? she asked pleasantly.

Deirdre turned back to the mirror with studied nonchalance. I wanted to see if your mirror would talk to me.

No, it only talks at night. Are you maybe admiring the statue? She tapped the figure’s headdress with a finger. It’s a present from one of our guests, a Mrs. Hao. Bob nicknamed it Goldie. Beautiful isn’t she? But she can be really hard to get a look at close up. I want to warn you not to chase her. You’ll never get hold of her, and you’ll just drive yourself crazy.

I’m not touching anything that belongs to you, Deirdre replied with an air of injured innocence.

Calm, merry Julie seemed to think this over at her leisure. OK, but I wish Bob was here for this instead of out getting your luggage. It would suit his sense of humor. When you get tired of it, come get me and we’ll talk. I’ll be in our bedroom reading a book I just got about childbirth.

As she walked away, Deirdre almost called her back, for though she had noticed Julie was a little pudgier than usual, she had had no hint until now that she was pregnant. But the call of the statuette prevailed. Here was opportunity, for Bob was gone, and Julie was strangely unconcerned. They didn’t seem to care about this statuette or they would have long since locked it up, preferably in a bank vault. The way from the house to the road was open to her and unobserved. The good life was almost in her grasp.

But as she slipped toward it the statuette disappeared. With an angry sound in her throat, she rushed forward to see if her eyes had played a trick on her, if it had perhaps fallen to the floor. But she had heard no thump, and indeed there was nothing under the little table. Wait, what was that in the corner of her eye? She turned her head to see the statuette standing on a coffee table in the middle of the room. Breathing hard, she stood up and tried to analyze the situation. She wanted that gold, but some enchantment seemed to move it out of reach. So chasing it would drive her crazy, as Julie had warned. She would only make a fool of herself.

Nevertheless, even as she thought this she was moving generally in the direction of the coffee table while looking out the window. Just walking around the room, that’s all. No plan, no purpose. Suddenly she crouched and grabbed for the statue. She clutched air, it was gone. No, there it was, several feet away, in the seat of the strange old chair. She lunged again and her palms slapped against the wooden chair back. Now the statue was nowhere in the room. No, there it was on the floor by the window.

She stood up and forced a laugh. She would not be lured anymore by this thing. She had more dignity than that. No, not one more grab. On the other hand, if she were to dive for it really fast… No, no, she was done with it. Then she remembered that she had seen Julie touch it, so there must be some way, some trick or technique to do it.

Fifteen minutes later Julie looked in on her and found her seated on the couch, her dark hair in disarray and her face contorted with emotion. Goldie was back in her original place on the little table. Several small items and one chair had been knocked over. Julie sat down by her and put her arm around the girl’s slim shoulders.

I’m sorry, she said. You see, we get these kooky things given to us by the Magi. I don’t know why they don’t leave us some nice throw pillows instead. You really will have to let it go in your mind. Don’t try to touch it.

I didn’t touch it! Deirdre moaned. I don’t want... She mixed in a swear word to describe Goldie.

Yeah, well, try to think about something else.

How come you can touch it?

Uh, Mrs. Hao seemed to be saying that Goldie’s easy to handle if you don’t want her. Actually, it’s hard to tell what she was saying because this was months ago, and Bob and I were even shakier with Kreenspam—that’s the Mage language—than we are now. But I think that’s it. I don’t covet Goldie so…

She stopped speaking because Deirdre had straightened up and her eyes were popping. So you can only touch it if you don’t want to do anything with it? If you don’t care?

Yeah. I hope you understand that—

Well, there’s still got to be two dozen ways to sell it! the girl said. For instance, you get some little kid to put it in your car for you, and off you go, you and the kid, to the pawn shop. Or you and Bob each pick up an end of the table its sitting on and move it like that. Or you lasso it or use a fish net on a pole or something.

Those are ingenious solutions, Julie said, but we’ll just keep Goldie.

Right, but only till you’re in real money trouble.

Deirdre knew about these things. Everybody had something they would ‘never sell,’ not until the bills piled up, that is.

In the mid-afternoon, Bob and Julie called Deirdre to the kitchen table (to avoid Goldie in the living room) and tried to explain to her about the Magi. They told her that these Chosen Ones, who sometimes allowed themselves to be called wizards, had been around for thousands of years and that they traveled through magical portals that carried them to various places and times. Bob’s house (which technically belonged to his grandfather) had been an inn for the Magi during the Civil War. During the past summer it had become necessary for it to be such an inn once more, for the Magi had been running from the murderous Rebels and had required new and secret escape routes. Bob had been recruited as innkeeper, and Julie had joined in the profitless enterprise. The threat of the Rebels had lessened now, but this newly reopened Magi Road, the Himmel Road as it was now called, remained. A portal east of the inn led from a forest in early 19th century England. The road continued by way of the inn to a western portal and into someplace in the Sahara, and onward. That much they knew, for they had passed both portals on visits, but of the road’s more distant sites they knew little. Besides the Himmel Road, there were many others.

The Magi who traveled these roads were everywhere doing good, mostly in little-noticed ways. They were humble people, usually quite poor, and grateful to the unpaid non-Magi volunteers who kept the inns. Bob and Julie made no attempt to conceal from Deirdre their enthusiasm for their role as innkeepers. They loved it to pieces.

This was interesting enough to Deirdre, but to their distress, they found her main interest was in the money they had found in the clothing of a Rebel who had accidentally killed himself during last summer’s attack on the inn. This windfall had provided funds to repair the inn and had allowed them to temporarily do without jobs. They were staying home and studying Kreenspam in order to be better innkeepers. Questioned closely by Deirdre, Julie explained that most of the American bills they had found hidden in the deceased man’s jacket were dated in the future, for time travelers need currencies for all eras. The bills could therefore only be spent as their years of printing came along. The new year had thus brought them a wad of usable hundreds. Besides this there were foreign coins and bills that Bob was sometimes able to convert or sell in Indianapolis, but that was so complicated that it was a headache.

The treasure was not stretching as well as they had hoped, and now a baby was coming, which would add expenses. In general, they were back to counting their pennies again, and Bob had reapplied for work at the Quali-Mart in Mercury. They would also try the experiment of clearing a small, abandoned orchard on the property, the one Deirdre had passed through the previous night, and selling its apples as a source of extra income.

Deirdre, who knew all about orchards because it was her parents’ main business, bluntly told them that as amateurs they would be lucky to break even. Then she hinted that they might show her the dead Rebel’s treasure, for she was sure she could give them some pointers on how to convert it. She was politely put off.

The point is, Bob said in an attempt to change the subject, that Magi still come here some nights. So feel free to think of yourself as an innkeeper too, as one of us.

Deirdre was shaking her head. I’m not interested in waiting on people. What if I could become a Magi instead?

The singular is Mage, kid.

Whatever. You told me once that I might.

He had to admit that a few of the Magi who had encountered her in the summer had had the impression that she could become a Mage. But this, he told her, seemed impossible to him because she just didn’t have the character for it. He hated to hurt her feelings, but a Mage had to be a good, dependable person. Even established Magi, if they fell away in character, invariably lost their powers. He returned to the idea of her being an apprentice innkeeper. She told him to stuff it.

But you’ve got to do something with your life, Bob insisted. You could—

He was interrupted by the phone.

Uh-oh, Julie said. That’s probably Deirdre’s folks.

No one answered when I called last night, so I just left a message, Bob said to Deirdre as he reached for the receiver. I’m surprised it’s taken them so long to call back. Uh, hello?

Bob, I want her back over here right now!

Hi, Uncle Dave.

Now! I won’t have her living with you.

How are you, Uncle Dave? Are you going to come over and pick her up?

No, I want you to bring her over here.

Uncle Dave detested Bob because he had managed to keep the inn property for his grandfather last summer though Dave and Marci had schemed to have the place for themselves. Dave must be mortified that Deirdre would even think of running away to Bob of all people. On the other hand, Bob knew that, after receiving some rough handling by the Rebels here in the summer, Dave was afraid to approach the Wizards’ Inn, whether to get Deirdre back or for any other reason.

Look, she’ll be eighteen in less than a year, right? Then you lose all legal control over her. So maybe you could start letting go now, since—

Is she there? Put her on the phone.

Deirdre took the phone from Bob.

"Dad? I’m fine here. Just leave me alone."

Dave was speaking loudly enough that Bob could hear him threatening to send the sheriff to pick up his daughter. Deirdre’s face tightened and her mouth twisted. She looked scared. Suddenly Bob took the receiver from her.

Uncle Dave, you are not sending the sheriff here! I’ll get a lawyer and fight you, and by the time it’s decided in court, she’ll be eighteen.

He was not sure of that, but to his surprise Uncle Dave was silent for several seconds. So that’s how it is, huh?

You let her stay here where she’s taken care of by family, and—

You want money for this?

No, I don’t expect any money. We’ll cover everything, and we’ll keep her out of trouble, and we’ll give you regular reports on her, if you want them. And, and that’s final!

Beside him Deirdre was trembling and making sniffly, gasping sounds.

You’ll take responsibility for her? Dave said so loudly that Bob was sure Deirdre and Julie could hear. For her stealing and her pot smoking?

Yes! Bob yelled loudly enough to perhaps deafen his uncle.

Instead of answering, Uncle Dave just hung up. When Bob reported this, Julie began a sort of cheer, but left off as they both had to turn to Deirdre, who was still gasping like an asthmatic.

It’s all right, Bob told her. I think we’ve got it covered. I don’t think he’s going to call the sheriff or anything like that.

Julie looked to Bob. I don’t think that’s it. I just think it’s that she’s never had anyone fight for her before, and she’s in disbelief. Isn’t that right, Deirdre?

The girl sniffled and nodded.

Julie bought Deirdre a dress, something missing from her suitcases, and they took her to church Sunday morning. For after Bob’s defiance of her father something had changed in her. She was still swearing and still had the manners of a swineherd, but she had become friendly toward them, almost trusting. Yes, even enough to try out church, something she admitted she had not experienced since she was eleven.

And this was not just church, this was Julie’s Uncle Phil’s Pentecostal church that could have shaken the confidence of the devil himself. This was church church.

Throughout the service Julie watched Deirdre with uneasiness, wondering if anything Uncle Phil preached was ‘taking,’ wondering if the girl would ever attend again. Still, she kept in mind that a surprise awaited Deirdre if she would only hang on until Sunday School, something that might make her think.

She was on the right of Deirdre in the pew, and two teenage girls were seated to their left. Half way through the loud, emotional singing time these girls got down on their knees and prayed aloud. Julie could not see Deirdre’s facial expression, but could see that the girl was staring down at them, no doubt in disbelief.

Deirdre was supposed to go to a separate Sunday School class, the one for the high school kids, but the Himmels had decided not to ask her to separate from them. Instead they took her to their singles and young couples class where the surprise awaited her. There, taking attendance, was a scrawny young man wearing a white shirt and a tie. His black hair was severely short. Staring over the side of his collar were the hollow eyes of a skull tattoo on his neck. This was Logan Alberti, the only local besides Deirdre who had joined the Rebels last summer, and now a boy reformed. He shyly wrote down their names in the attendance book, and then everyone sat down.

Because it was not quite time to start, the twenty or so members of the class were chatting among themselves. Most of the group, all spotlessly ‘churchy,’ avoided talk with Deirdre, however. Mercury was such a small town that everyone knew who she was and about her escapades and arrest record. They were glad