Chapter 29: Marina Murders (9)

The nationwide donut chain had window sills lined with an assortment of donuts.  Real donuts, not the plasticky kind that’s display only.  I pointed at a pink one with sprinkles, which is as close to the fake ones as you could get.  Naturally, I looked at Penelope when it came time to pay.

She sniffed, once, then paid.

I could get used to this.

Penelope gave me plenty of time to eat.  When I reached for my sixth donut, she finally commented, “I thought you weren’t hungry. You ate a lot.”

“I’m not hungry.  I’m addicted.”

To be completely honest, it was a bad habit of mine, stuffing myself as much as I could every chance I got. Living the way I did, you never really knew when your next meal would be.

It was either that or I was stalling.

I kept that last bit to myself.

Finishing off the last bite, which in my opinion is the best part of the donut, I finally gave her my attention.  “I think I did what you asked me to do.  As much as I could, anyways.”

Penelope reached over and took off the hood, her rainbow-hair falling out.  Everytime I saw her eyes, I couldn’t stop noticing how blue they were.  A piercing icy-gaze, that was equal parts rebellious, punk-rock, and intelligent.  So much for the stereotype of dumb blondes.

“Why don’t you go over what you know first?”  She offered, “That way, I’m not giving you something you already know.”

I considered the offer.  A lesser man than I might have countered it by saying that she was fishing for information.

“Sounds like you’re fishing for information.”  I blurted out.

Goddamit, Jain.

She smiled crookedly.  “Should I start then?”

Lev watched on, amused.

“No.”  I snapped, wracking my brain on trying to remember things about the trial.

“The tasks.”  I retraced the words, trying to walk down memory lane in reverse, “Neutral third parties will determine which tasks… and the contestants can’t contact them for help.”

“Try to remember what he said exactly.”  Penelope prodded.

Damn it.  My memory was foggy on the best of days.  What was it that Emyrith had said?

“It’s not that I can’t ask for help,”  The realization hit me like a sack of bricks, “I can’t be seen asking for help.”

Yes.  That was it.

“Typical fae bindings.”  Penelope said offhandedly.  “He made it sound like one thing, but meant something else entirely.”

Crap.

All the dots connected just then.  The reason why the families acted so fast on breaking off any possible deals I could have made with friendly spirits in the supernatural world.  They weren’t like me.  They were probably experts on the subject matter of dealing with these kinds of things.  This only doubly assured me that the families knew that my primary go-to for help were reaching out to spirits.

But it also meant that my options weren’t limited to spirits either.  If I could find the identity of these neutral third parties, I could ask for help.

Yet, how useful was this realization?

If I knew it, then surely the Ryus and the Valentines knew it.  I wouldn’t be surprised if they were putting some kind of pressure on those ‘neutral third parties’ the moment they found out who they were.  It was just like school, the PTA could put all kinds of invisible pressures on the school board; the kind that were invisible in the eyes of us students.

Which also meant…

That the two people sitting in front of me were possibly my only source of salvation in this whole matter.

Penelope had sought me out, even before the whole trial thing started.  It was safe to say she was involved, or knew things that I didn’t.  Or was experienced enough to guess the direction this whole thing would go.

“Damn it.”  I swore.

“Appropriate.”  Lev commented dryly.

Penelope must’ve seen the realization on my face, or could read minds.  Neither was off the table at this point.  “Believe it or not, Hallow, your situation is not as impossible as you might be making it out to be.”

“Please.  Enlighten me.”  

“Well, I’m still here, aren’t I?”  She tapped the table with a finger, “I meant what I said.  I keep my word.”

I eyed the two of them.

Penelope.  Five feet and loose change.  Petite, blonde, probably popular at school, and definitely knew more about all this than me; which wasn’t saying much.

Lev.  Fit as a fiddle, probably even more popular than Penelope and unless I wasn’t mistaken, something like a bodyguard to Penelope.  He too, probably knew more than me.

The question was exactly how much they knew.

“Yeah, but it’s not a fair trade.”  I spoke slowly, testing the words through a filter before actually saying them outloud.  “All I did was take a look.  In the circles you two run in, whatever information you two have for me, is probably worth a lot more than what I did for you two.”

“Figured that out now, did ya?”  Lev drawled.

“Hold onto your horses, there’s more.”  I replied, “This whole thing.  It’s just bait.  The trade, the information as payment… you want more from me.  More than just ‘taking a look’.”  I made quotation marks in the air.  “So I’m starting to wonder what it is that you two truly want.”

“That’s complicated.”  Penelope waved my question aside, “And is probably better saved for after we provide our payment.”  She fixed me with a look, “And as to the matter of which one was worth more…”  She shrugged, “Depends on perspective.”

I’d completely pegged this girl wrong.  The track jacket, the punk-rock-girl stance, it was probably all an act.  Or a convenient exterior of her personality.  Either way, Penelope didn’t fit in the dumb blonde stereotype any more than a circle was a square.

She was complicated.  Or rather, capable of complicated things –looking far ahead into the future and thinking about the possible ramifications of her actions.  Now, I’m not saying I’m not your typical teenager, but being an orphan bounced from foster house to foster house made me grow up fast.  I had to learn that my actions had consequences, and that the people I hung around would reap those consequences too.  

Actually, it was more likely that I reap the consequences of their actions.

Again, the benefits of being a kid in the system.

And I had to say, all my experiences from before gave me a rather distrustful disposition.  Which made me want to shy away from this whole pseudo-partnership.  The only reason I got here so far with Penelope and Lev was the fact that they had something I needed.

Information.

And yes.  I was aware that it was just bait to get me onboard with the next part of their plan.  But they’d dealt with me in good faith so far, and Penelope being smarter than I initially gave credit for didn’t have to change that.

“Well, maybe I can be the judge of that.”

“Ok.”  Penelope stopped briefly, like she was preparing to give a speech.  “I can give you two pieces of information, Hallow.  How you use them is up to you.”

“One,”  She held up a finger, “One of the trial judges is a local.  Local, as in from New York.  They call her the Hudson Witch.”

I made a face.  “Like the Hudson River?”

Penelope nodded.  “Exactly.”

“That’s… a lot less impressive than I thought.  I mean, sure, the rent prices there are probably high, but there are better places to live.  That water is filthy.”

“She’s not called the Hudson Witch because of where she lives, you doofus.”  Before I could call her out on the name-calling, she continued, “She’s a practitioner of immense power that holds a lot of influence over the water.  She’s a big player in the supernatural scene here in New York.”

“Capital P.”  Lev echoed.  

“There isn’t anyone who’s been in the New York scene that hasn’t heard of her somehow, and that’s insane given the fact that she’s basically the next best thing to a legend.  If stories are to be believed, no one’s seen her in a few dozen years.”

I held my tongue.

“That’s not all.  She’s also a member of the Table.”

“Is that really such a big deal?”

“It is, considering that she has no official territory, vassals, or outright influence in the City.  Most people upstate take care of themselves, but this Witch was so powerful that they insisted she join.”

I caught the note of respect in Penelope’s voice.  “Ok.  Fine.  I take it back.  She's super impressive.  What else can you tell me about her?”

“Facts?  Not much.  Rumors?  Plenty.  She’s as secretive as she is powerful.  Most of the rumors about her come from fringe members of the supernatural.”

“Fringe members?”

“Too weak to defend themselves against those more powerful themselves.  Hedge witches, minor talents who’re not really practitioners, maybe even non-mortals.  Small timers.”  Lev muttered.

Penelope nodded.  “But here’s the thing; no matter how hard you try to pin down the truth behind these rumors, it’s hard because no one’s actually ever met her.  And the rumors are always changing too.”

“Doesn’t really help much.”  This bit of information was turning out to be a little too out there for my tastes.

“Oh, it does.  The rumors all have one thing in common,”  Penelope said gravely, “She’s always looking to deal.”