SG: Innocent Bystander #6 -- Ringing Belles 1/2

[Whitney Taylor]

Innocent Bystander #6, 1/2


Savannah, November 1993


"You are not progressing fast enough. You must concentrate!"


Max stopped outside the door of Theodore Kelley's study. Their master had been increasingly impatient of late, speaking tersely of the outcome of a recent mage war just past, and catastrophe looming ahead. Careless, too, as he had neglected to soundproof the door while in conference. The brunt of his temper had been borne by his current student, the barely-magical Stefan Lightbourne, who was trying to focus his very limited powers via orb contemplation.


Now Stefan's defensive tones came through the door. "How can I progress when I can't practice this at home? If I could just borrow the orb--"


"Borrow? Borrow?!?!?!? Remove a near priceless artifact from my atelier to the confines of your mundane realm where any ignorant--" There was a pause. Max could imagine their master closing his eyes to collect his composure. "You are new to this discipline. I am trying to be patient. But if anything were to happen to this object now, it would be nearly impossible to replace in the time I have left. Perhaps," he ground out reluctantly, "it would be better for you to move in here to continue your studies. You would return to your home this June, whether I succeed in molding a hundredth fraction of a mage out of you or not."


Max held their breath. They knew Kelley had taken on the task of teaching Stefan out of a sense of scientific curiosity, to see if the untalented but highly motivated man could master the single spell he needed to keep his daughter alive. Having adopted him as an apprentice, in however limited a term, seemed to have given their master a sense of responsibility as well, though. Max wondered what it would be like to have him as a member of their household... He had not yet encountered Damon. Or Layla. Stefan could be endearing, if you let him, but what if he should stumble into knowledge of their true mission? He might not understand.


"...I'll have to think about it," Stefan said reluctantly, "My family needs me, but maybe Sophie can do without me for half a year..."


"Make your decision soon." Kelley returned curtly. "Our time is done for today."


Max moved away quickly. They stepped through the front door, letting the setting sun fall on their pale face as they struggled with their own private decision. Soon enough Stefan stepped out behind them.


"Your boss can be a real tyrant," he informed Max.


They smiled slightly. "My *master*. And yours too, at least until summer." they corrected.


"I guess I just don't like to think of another man as my master." Stefan confessed. "Even in the master and apprentice sense."


"Is having a master worse than having a boss?"


"When you put it that way... Hey, if I start calling Dr. Kelley my 'master', do you think my training will go faster?"


"I think this will make your training go faster," Max said, deftly sweeping back one of their long loose sleeves to reveal their hand holding a small orb the size of a golf ball.


Stefan looked down at it, then back at Max's face, questioning. "These are very valuable, I understand. Are you sure?"


"This one, less than the other. It may help you, though. Take it." Max urged, proffering the orb. Stefan reached out, and took it from their hand. As his fingers brushed Max's palm, a shiver went up their spine.


"I'll try to get it back to you as soon as I can." Stefan's smile, so much easier than when they first met, made Max feel as light as a featherfall spell. "Thanks, Max. Really."


"Anything..." they whispered as they watched him drive away.


*****


Outside Jacksonville, the present


Mina woke reluctantly, head pounding. Why was everything so bright? Had she forgotten to turn off the lights before going to bed? Her apartment was always filled with nice grubby shadows in the morning. She rolled over to bury her head in her pillow. This introduced new questions; her bed had never been this soft.


Wide awake now, she took inventory. She was still wearing her work clothes, except for her feet, which were bare. The alarmingly comfortable mattress was nestled in what looked like an antique canopy bed frame complete with gauzy canopy. Without further movement, Mina searched her memory. How had she gotten here? Ah yes...


She had left work by the same route as usual, but she must have taken a wrong route somewhere, because while the streets looked familiar, they twisted in strange ways and she found herself going down them again and again, as if she were going in circles. Afraid that her scooter would run out of gas, though she had half a tank when she left work, she began looking for a gas station. This proved to be equally elusive, so she had pulled over to check her phone's map. It was then that the horse-drawn carriage pulled up. The curtain around the compartment was pulled aside, revealing four pale, beautiful women in colorful, old-fashioned looking dresses. It all felt unreal, like some kind of fairy tale. She'd thought it was some kind of reenactment or cosplay at the time.


"What seems to be the matter, honey?" one of them called out. Her accent had been some Scarlett O'Hara knockoff, present-Mina thought, but her bright pink dress looked very authentic.


"I'm lost! And I think my scooter's almost dead."


"Maybe we can take you the rest of the way?" asked the second, a blonde in lavender with a smirk that appeared in retrospect rather smug.


"My scooter..."


"You can chain it to that street light," said the dark-haired youngest, pointing, "We know where it is. We'll come back for it." When Mina looked, she saw three street lights in a tight formation, wavering slightly. That would certainly be a memorable landmark.


"It's all right," the oldest, a shapely matron of around forty, said, "You look just about ready to drop anyway. You don't want to drive around like that, do you?" She seemed so kind, Mina had trusted her instantly.


This had seemed totally reasonable, so Mina hopped into the carriage with the mysterious women and let them clop clop clop her off to... wherever. What had been wrong with her? Surely she wasn't *that* naive?


There had been some questions in the carriage. She remembered trying to answer them, to please her new friends, but it had been so confusing, and she could tell under their impeccable manners that they were becoming frustrated. Finally the youngest one, exasperated beyond patience, turned to scold one of the blondes: "You done scrambled her brain good, Clarissa!"


She'd been near tears at this point, Mina remembered, cheeks burning with humiliation. The older woman had patted her hand, making her feel better instantly. "Now, honey, we'll take you home to rest and you'll be right as rain in the morning. Isn't that so?" and she had looked warningly at the woman named Clarissa.


"My home?" Mina had been unable to tell them where that was.


"Ours is much nicer. Besides, it is not proper for a young lady to be living alone and unprotected."


Her memories grew very foggy at this point. At least no one had died? Probably? She would have remembered someone dying, she was sure.


And then she woke up here. On the plus side, she was unbound and comfortable, except for the headache. On the minus, either she had had too many mint juleps, or someone had been messing with her head. And Mina didn't know how to make a mint julep.


As quietly as she could, she began to move. The bedsprings creaked ever so slightly as she sat up. Maow could have done it without the slightest noise, probably--but she hadn't glimpsed any catgirl in days now. There didn't seem to be anyone beyond the gauzy curtain, so she pushed it aside to find herself in an airy bedroom sparsely furnished with what looked like real antiques and at the very least very retro wallpaper. She investigated the window: it was midday and she was on the second story of a house surrounded by a large and perfect lawn sloping down to a pond. No porch or awning on this side, unfortunately. The closest buildings were dozens of yards away. She couldn't see the street. Crossing to the door, she tried turning the knob cautiously at first, then with more force. Locked!


Her suspicions confirmed, Mina set her jaw and began to search the room.


*****


"She's awake," Miss Trial announced, "And suspicious." she added, somewhat reproachfully. She bit her lip then, running her hand over Mint Julep's scaly head where it rested on the orange taffeta of her skirt. People got suspicious later when Miss Rule leaned on them too hard, but she didn't yet feel comfortable criticizing their leader. Or wearing a corset, for that matter.


Miss Direction misunderstood. "Some of us have to work extra hard to make up for the shortcomings of others!" Miss Trial blushed crimson at this.


"You didn't *have* to work at all! I could have stopped that bike cold if y'all had just let me!" pouted Miss Fortune.


"While useful, your work has a distressing tendency to end up fatal," Miss Rule said. "We need that child's head intact, not spread all over the concrete."


Miss Trial had been feeling off balance all morning. She was new to her powers, and sometimes felt strange things on the edges of her mind when nothing was there. Looking forward to an opportunity to prove their use, she pushed Mint Julep's head away, and the gator waddled off sullenly to go bathe. None of the three senior Belles had made a move to get up, or even to summon a servant. Miss Trial cleared her throat. "Now she's trying to get out," she informed them.


There were sighs all around. Miss Rule lifted and rang a delicate bell.


"Robert," she said to the man who appeared, "Please bring a tray of refreshment for our guest." She rose to her feet, a model of elegant grace. The rest of them imitated her as best they could. "Well, ladies, shall we?"


*****


Mina had found a hairpin behind the armoire. She knew you were supposed to be able to pick locks with these, especially old fashioned ones, but just poking it around didn't seem to be doing anything. She heard the laughing, cheerful voices just in time to jump back.


The lock clicked, and the door swung open. The mature, red-haired woman behind it was, if anything, even more resplendent than she had been last night, dressed in a high-necked forest green dress with flounces and probably crinolines, too. A beautiful starburst brooch sparkled at her throat. She noticed the hairpin in Mina's hand immediately.


"Heavens, if we didn't just forget to leave you all the amenities a woman's vanity requires! What you must think of us! Robert, why don't you fetch some toiletries? And Robert, why don't you fetch the young lady a change of clothes? Kindly put that tray over there, Robert, and then go trim the hedge maze, if you would." Three men standing in the hallway, of neutral facial expression and bright blue livery but otherwise distinctly different appearance, moved to fill the orders. Another woman appeared, dressed just as elaborately as the first but in bright orange and yellow. Mina remembered the young brunette from last night--she was the one who had said--who had said--


"Good morning! I'm Miss Trial; I don't believe we were properly introduced last night!" The woman announced in a bright, clear tone, sweeping into a curtsy.


"And I am Miss Rule!" said the woman in the green dress, doing likewise with more flourish.


Mina giggled shyly; what funny names! "I'm Mina!" She tried a curtsy herself. It turned out poorly, but the women were too well bred to say anything. Why had they taken someone like her home with them?


"Short for Wilhelmina? What a lovely old-fashioned name!" Miss Rule said approvingly, and Mina glowed with pleasure. Miss Trial was rolling her eyes for some reason, though. "Why don't you have some breakfast? Your grits are getting cold."


Suddenly, she was ravenously hungry. She sat down at the little breakfast table, and started to eat. The Roberts came back bearing some bottles and things, including a frilly white dress that no one could possibly expect Mina to actually wear, and vanished again.


Miss Rule sank into a nearby armchair. Miss Trial stepped up next to it, resting her hand on the older woman's shoulder. "So what do you think of our humble establishment?"


Mina swallowed a bit of biscuit hurriedly, washing it down with the sweetest iced tea she had ever tasted. "I haven't seen much of it? Um, the Roberts are kinda creepy, but the grounds look really nice!" Too much empty space, though. Hard to get across unnoticed... but why would she... Miss Trial squeezed Miss Rule's shoulder, and Mina shook her head, trying to remember what she was saying. "The food is really good!"


The sitting woman smiled brilliantly. "We can show you some more of the grounds later, perhaps. It's an old house, dating back to plantation times. We try to re-create the atmosphere of luxury and class that existed before the War of Northern Aggression."


A frown snuck up from somewhere inside Mina's consciousness, touching her lips before she could feel it coming. "Plantation... is that really something to...?"


Miss Trial was squeezing Miss Rule's shoulder, hard, but the other only laughed. "We don't mean to bring back *everything* about the old days! You've seen some of our staff; we strive for diversity, as they say nowadays."


"Oh..." There was more that was wrong with that, but the questions dwindled and vanished before they could reach her lips. Mina relaxed.


"This world is falling to the savages! What we need most in this day and age is civility. Civility and class. Wouldn't you agree?"


"Civility is nice," said Mina, trying and failing to remember some of the other things that the world might need more.


"Now," she mused, "if only there were a way to make people more inclined to exhibit common courtesy. Not to force them to be polite, you understand. Just nudge them a little. Something that could civilize the whole city of Jacksonville."


"I don't know of any way to do that," Mina said sadly.


"Don't you? You have had some adventures of your own, have you not? You live a rather dangerous lifestyle for an unpowered young lady on her own, if you will allow me the liberty of saying so. Haven't you run into anything that could be of help to us? Think hard, now!"


The world suddenly seemed a little more solid, a little colder. Mina remembered. "You're after Malmechano's device! Oh no..." Images flashed through her mind unbidden: the villain's mad laugh, his pride in his half-baked plan, twisting a part off the machine before Amy could notice, relief at finding it still under her sink after Maow had been in her apartment, the satisfying splash as it sank into the St. Johns river...


Miss Rule continued. "You come from Savannah, don't you? How enviable. The home of Southern hospitality! Even that devil Sherman had to lay down his torch in the face of such beauty. And hardly touched even by the Genocidal War! A treasure preserved by time. And yet..." Miss Rule's amber eyes bored into Mina's, silencing all thought, "Forbidden to us. Occupied on the metahuman level by an inhospitable coven of heathens. First by that downright ungentlemanly old wizard, now that whore and those... others. It is not to be stood for. We cannot go in with force, but that doesn't matter. My power is in subtlety. A subtle touch, a lady's touch, that will get us in the door, and once we are close enough..." Her fist clenched. "We will retake Savannah in the name of Southern honor! And then, we will free Georgia from federal tyranny, followed by the rest of the States! We will usher in a new age of order and liberty and--"


Miss Trial had been shaking her shoulder for some time, crying: "Miss Rule! I got it! Miss Rule!" Her triumph soon turning to concern, she reached into a small bag at her waist and brought forth a vial which she waved under Miss Rule's nose. The woman stopped mid-rant, and her eyes crossed, watering. She went into a violent fit of sneezing. Mina wasted several precious seconds recovering her wits, then bolted for the door, knocking over the table and chair. She was mere inches from freedom when it slammed shut, hitting her on the nose and knocking her sprawling back into the room.


When the stars had cleared from her vision, she saw the two women standing over her, smirking. That they were just as beautiful as before, but she now felt no urge to please them, was a cold shot of terror in itself.


"Well," said Miss Rule pleasantly, "Now what *do* we do with you?"


*****


The previous night...


Maow paced below Mina's window. No light. She went back to the parking lot. No blue scooter. She repeated the process several times, to see if anything changed. When it didn't, she was not worried, since she didn't care about Mina. She began to move in wider circles, because she wanted to. A street or two away, it occurred to her that she had not sharpened her claws in half a day or so. She stopped by an unusually tall palm, stretched luxuriously, and dug her nails into its bark. Her toilette completed, she leapt up, climbing for the sheer joy of it.


Perched at the top of the tree, she lazily surveyed the land below, taking particular note of any vehicles, because she was attracted to their shiny lights. There... there was one! A single headlight, it must be a motorcycle or scooter. Her eyes followed it, unconcerned. It was behaving strangely for a human vehicle, veering to one direction and then turning abruptly in the opposite. How interesting! And where was it going? It completed at least one circle. Perhaps she should investigate.


After descending carefully (sometimes human rationality could be useful), Maow trotted off in the direction of the confused cyclist. Yes... she knew this territory. This time she climbed a gnarled oak, and settled in to watch. The scooter did not keep her waiting. She watched it pass, bemused. It was pale blue, and would be easy even for human eyes to follow. She dropped down and sauntered after it.


It was a good thing she didn't care about Mina, since this was not Mina. It smelled like Mina, under the odor of petrol, but it was making all the wrong turns. Maow quickened her pace. A strong, unfamiliar animal smell joined the night's aromatic bouquet. The catgirl stopped under a streetlight. At her feet was the blue scooter, discarded. Maow cried plaintively into the night, dropping to her knees. Then the human in her reasserted itself, and she reached into a pocket to draw out a phone. She pressed a single button, held it to her ear, and began to really wail at length. She did not stop until her song was done, only moving to cover behind a bush when the door of a nearby house opened and disgorged a "Goddamn cats!" followed by several gunshots. Then she crept out and curled beside the scooter, waiting.


*****


Present


Mina scooted back away from the women, trying to get enough space to stand up, but her back was against the wall. "You--you can let me go. You got what you wanted."


Miss Trial looked at her leader. "We might. Who could she tell?"


Mina was for once thankful that she had no one she could call on. "That's right. Nobody will listen to me. They might notice if I disappear, though." I'm telling the truth, she thought: read my mind.


Miss Rule looked thoughtful. "That charming little cafe you work at, yes they might. We could use a set of eyes there, as a matter of fact."


Mina's heart, buoyant for an instant, sank again. She could never pull off a job as a double agent, even if she wanted to. Miss Trial was shaking her head. "She has a strong will, and already mistrusts you. I think you could break her, but not before she's missed."


Mina thought of the Roberts, and gulped back her horror in the name of more effective begging. "They'd fire me for sure if I tried to come in all brainwashed! I'd hate for you to have to do all that work for nothing."


"It can be mighty tiring..." Miss Rule sighed, apparently thinking of previous efforts. Then she shook off her misgivings with obvious effort. "When the devil works hard, we must work harder. This child knows too much. Partially my fault, as I allowed my passions excessive free reign... but she may be of some use, even if only as a servant. Come here, girl. It works faster if I touch you."


"No!" Mina wrenched to the side, away from the woman's hand, but her movement came to a stop with a jerk. She could still command her arms and legs, but it felt like they were in a vice, and only her fingers and toes wiggled. "Telekinetic, too?"


Miss Rule's lips twisted. "Very inelegant to use physical force. I hope you appreciate the lengths to which I am going." Despite her clear displeasure, she was still the most beautiful, stylish and kind woman Mina had ever seen...


"No you're not!" She cried, trying to focus her anger. "And you're wrong about the Genocidal War too! Savannah wasn't untouched! People were taken, people were killed!"


"People!" Miss Rule flipped one hand in the air dismissively, the other placed on top of Mina's head. "There are always more people. The architecture, the monuments, the history! That's what matters."


"You're gross..." Mina whispered, even though it was clearly untrue. She knew she had to say it again, even though she was forgetting why. "You're so gross!" It hurt to see the anger and disappointment on that beautiful face, though.


"At least," Miss Rule said as she closed her divine eyes, probably to stop from having to look at Mina's plain face and uncombed hair. "I can have the satisfaction of molding you from a hoyden to an obedient young lady!"


"Oh! Would you?" Mina said breathlessly, then, "Please don't!"


The hand on her head was removed, and the feeling of being in the physical presence of a goddess waned. Mina was able to look away, and did. "Miss Trial," said the psychic, "I think I will resume this task later. I am finding it most difficult to concentrate--no doubt I am unused to being addressed in such a way." Though she was turned away, Mina could feel the woman's attention turned back to her. "I was so looking forward to dressing you up in proper clothes, but that will have to wait until tomorrow. Perhaps even later. Robert?" A man stepped into the room, staring at his mistress with dull adoration. "You and Robert escort our guest to the unfinished room and ensure she stays there."


As Mina was dragged struggling from the room, she passed a third woman in a deep purple dress. They locked eyes, and her perceptions fractured. The hall multiplied into a maze, a dozen hands held her instead of four, and her feet, no longer able to find the ground, dropped from under her. As she was carried away, she heard the laughter of a hundred women...


Continued in Part 2...


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