Mystery Lake
[30] Tired
The ambivalent rift of emotions Eugene was struggling to reconcile didn't hinder his agreement to bring in a sample of the lake water to be examined. Considering how precious and strange the water in the backseat clearly was, Roxy randomly wondered if they might return to the car to find the liquid pilfered or sublimated away. But despite that concern, all of it was there, except for the relatively modest sample that the bastard received right to the chest.
Presented in a clear container that Eugene volunteered for the task, it was an easy matter to visually confirm Miranda's assessment that it appeared to be clear, natural water. A smell test added virtually nothing, as the water had the same moist aroma as any other water sample.
What they presented for Eugene's scrutiny was several times larger than the meager cup encounter with the nameless rest stop bastard, enough to take a good chunk out of what they had collected. Still a heck of a lot less than the angry bucket splash that transformed Roxy's life. Enough to change Eugene's, too, and the lives of anyone else who might come into contact with it.
A multitude of rudimentary theories formed in his mind as he considered the absolute density of fairy-related water and the addition of rainfall, groundwater, runoff, and other transfer sources. No matter how pure the sample looked, he suspected that some of it absolutely had to be composed of a mixture of different types and sources of water. Or, as Eugene nervously proposed, there might be properties representative of the fictional ice-nine. To test this, he had a few theories about dilution.
Evaporation should have transplanted the contained water into the circulatory system of the water cycle. But if that were true, then what level of fairy water was enough to transform? It boggled Eugene's mind and played havoc with the rest of their thoughts.
Roxy imagined a significant amount of this lake water being poured into an ice machine and then the ice being used by a variety of random people in a motel or a restaurant. Would that work? Would it have to melt back into the rest of the liquid?
The fact that every lake in the region hadn't been affected by this one at least suggested that it had a limitation or some sort of magical confinement that kept it in this particular place unless moved by human hands. At least, that was the best assessment that made any sort of sense. It was probably more complicated than that, but without any real tests, they could only speculate.
This vigorous distraction could only go so far to give Roxy a little boost of energizing wind against the depletion of her spirit. It didn't feel like it should be bedtime yet, but she really needed something. Playing the good, happy guest, Roxy emptied what the old lady had provided her, especially the sweetest items, and drained every last drop of her alcoholic supplement. The downer quality of the liquor certainly did no favors in keeping her face from planting against the table. She persisted as long as possible before finally asking if there was somewhere she could take a nap for a short while.
Promptly, the old lady pressed towards one of the spare bedrooms and made sure it was prepared for her use. The design of the room was classic, with little consideration given to comfortably plugging in an electronic device, probably more a fault of the painfully short cords enforced by too many devices than anything else.
Leaving the others, even for a short time, even including Ross, brought a fresh wave of uncertainty from Roxy. The possibility was small, but not zero, that she might wake up slammed, tripped, or slipped into another one of those pocket realms or pushed back into the other realm of surely too many horny fairies and no clear way of returning. Definitely a consequence of trauma and fear. She knew that rationally, but that acknowledgment did nothing to dim its sweaty terror.
The room also felt like it might as well have been placed on a distant planet. All sound traces coming from the kitchen were heavily muted, with the door left half open and absolutely smothered if you closed it. The thickness of the walls made it possible to imagine she was the only person anywhere. Not the most comforting thought.
Her mind understood that if anything happened, she'd never know anything had gone wrong, nor would those around her be able to predict that she'd disappeared or suffered some terrible fate.
Checking the far-end curtains, she soon discovered that they had multiple layers, more like intricate, freshly cleaned petticoats than anything close to her expectations. Washing up in the old, tiny adjoining sink and bath was more of a mental cleansing than a physical one.
She plopped down on the fluffy, relaxingly cool but still perfectly warm, soft surface of the bed as if it had been specifically prepared for her much longer in advance. The pillows were no substitute for Jake, who stayed behind to continue talking to the others. It was a long time before she realized that the impression of warmth wasn't coming from the bed but rather from her own body, which was shedding swarms of warmth like a cocooning, friendly shield.
It was impossible for Roxy to keep her eyelids open as the cradling, firm yet yielding surface of the bed enveloped her. Fear about what thoughts, feelings, and visions she might soon witness seized her for just a moment before she lost the potent enthusiasm to be afraid and drifted off.
"Hi, Roxy."
Roxy's eyes shot open, but this wasn't the jerk and flare of a natural awakening. The light didn't quite look right across the room or even at her hands. She judged it as if she were sitting underwater or wearing strangely tinted glasses. A strange but familiar woman sat in front of her on the same bed, as if she'd been there for a while and was comfortably settled.
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"Hi? Who are you?"
A soft, warm smile spread across her features. "I think you already know who I am, Roxy. I'm a friend. I caught you when you started to fall. I made sure that kresmet fruter got exactly what he deserved. It took a lot of my strength just to communicate with you, but it was urgent. I don't wanna keep you from your rest. We both need it. But I just wanted to let you know that you don't have to be afraid. I whispered gently that those awful Hollows were prideful prudes, and you did the rest. I almost broke down in tears as a companion to your tears. It's going to be all right; I can tell when Unseelie are near. I am here, and I promise to protect you."
Roxy felt like she was tumbling backward into a vast but invisible space. It was disorienting, as if the tether of her soul to her body was slipping like the slowest bungee cord, unfurling with no certainty that it would ever go tense and whip her back into place. Her limbs were so distant and heavy that they might as well have been massive office buildings down the block, an eternal part of the frozen landscape. The lurching sense of vertigo still lingered, though her head was finally settled into place.
"I'm scared." Roxy could barely comprehend that she'd said those words, let alone know for sure where they were aimed. Was she scared of this woman, who seemed so friendly and sharply familiar, even though she had trouble resolving and remembering many details about her? Was she scared of this moment, which had all the hallmarks of a dream but the coherence and reality of a planted vision? Or was she scared of everything else beyond this quiet dream space and what might happen next?
The woman's gentle, fair smile resolved and clarified more than anything else about her as she reached out with both arms and tenderly embraced her. "Don't be afraid. It's going to be okay. Rest well, my dear." The last part came through as a faint, hazy blur, as if she actually needed glasses like Jake and had forgotten to put them on.
This time, Roxy's real eyes slipped open. She breathed a few times through her nostrils and caught a rich, floral phantom scent like the freshest laundry just out of the dryer, replacing the rancid, infectious corruption of the Hollows. This nicest smell was practically everywhere, and she allowed her tense legs to really relax and rest against the mattress, her hands no longer fighting like curled cat claws to get a grip or prepare for combat. The worst of the tension that had made her sweat all over her body faded away, and a pain in her forehead that she hadn't even realized was pressing against her thoughts dropped like a heavy, released weight. Insistent throbbing, like her occasional eye twitch but pinging throughout her entire body, finally ended.
In this new, easier state, she felt as if she could sink back into a dreamy peace, letting the mysteries wander cheerfully around her like the strangest neighbors.
She sat up. The fear was still there. The tension of not being able to see the others and know that they were all right, even Ross, remained. Uncertainty about the vague, maternal figure that seemed to exist somewhere in her mind and spirit raged without actually being mad at anyone in particular, except perhaps herself.
Fumbling around for where she'd tiredly placed her phone before completely conking out, Roxy awkwardly recovered it and brushed her fingers in all directions without plans for where she might end up. No big surprise, but she slumped down on the bed and allowed herself a quick micro-nap.
Gathering together enough determined energy, Roxy looked down at the little clock app on her phone. Somehow, she had actually managed to sleep for well over an hour and a half. That wasn't too bad. Roxy yanked out some factoid from class or mention made by Duncan that increments of about 45 minutes were perfect for sleeping a complete cycle. Yep. Perfect.
Except for the fact that her neck felt like it had been kinked into a Z-shape or worse. Luckily, she still knew a few tricks from exercise workouts for getting muscles liberated from kinks, overextension, and cramps. She worked her way through the best method for this one, listening to her neck sound like gravel pressed out with a rolling pin.
"You're awake. Or did I wake up? I'm sorry." Eugene's speed, cadence, and general feeling of words were already lightly familiar to her. He poked his head into the room from off to the side and bowed politely with a submissive presentation of his body. Roxy assured him that she had already woken up when he arrived, and she ended her nap on her own. Warily, she asked the shop proprietor if everything was all right and if there was anything he needed from her or had any questions. His muscles tightened as he approached the bed and sat a polite but empty distance away.
"There is one thing I wanted to mention. In this particular text, with the most extensive references to the fairy...death concern. There's this one thing in there, almost just a margin note, that caught my eye. Since talking to the others, you seem to be the one who has experienced the greatest extent of this phenomena, I was wondering if you might have heard of a group or entity known as... the company."
Roxy frowned and rubbed at her left eye before offering up the very first thing that popped into her head: "You mean the CIA?"
Eugene swiftly shook his head in response. "No. The authors of this book made a clear and unmistakable distinction between them so that the reader would know it wasn't just a mistaken, imaginative typographical error. Still, it could be an error. But they are quite specifically cited as 'the company'. No capitalization. You ever heard of that?"
Roxy had absolutely no idea.