Mystery
The House of Leigh Chapter???
What has happened so far…
Gideon and his wife Lyn are limnar. A near-human race that uses magic. They were harassed by a petty liminar named Patti. She tossed a magical Molotov cocktail at their house, destroying Gideon’s shield and Lyn’s lawn. In retaliatory pettiness, Gideon used his “cursed gift” to visit Patti and acted one part showman and one part threat. I would say it was supereffective. Also, Gideon is overwhelmed by a desire to find a missing girl from a cold case named Mia. This chapter picks up after that. Technically it’s chapter 3 now because this is why I normally never post as I write.
Also, remember, this story is contemporary fantasy with some mystery elements. And maybe there will be some horror before the end. I don’t know…this is a genre blender.
Cease and Desist pt: 1 Cease and Desist pt: 2 Cease and Desist: pt 3 Cease and Desist: pt 4
-One month later
A pulse of EDM splintered Lyn’s quiet dream and was blasted away by a beat dropping. She stretched her arm towards the bedstand in search for the smooth surface of her phone’s screen. But sleep gripped her back into soothing darkness, and she sank back into dream. The alarm became background music to looking out into the front yard of her parent’s home. In reality, her fingers slid off the edge of her phone’s case. Then the weight of an arm fell across her abdomen, knocking both air and dream out of her.
She groaned and swung her head towards Gideon. He was on his stomach. His arm was outstretched, ending in a limp hand of lost intention. Lyn pushed his arm off to sit up and flicked on her lamp. She scrubbed her face, unenthused about starting the day.
Her husband appeared to be less ready to face the day. The sheet twisted around his lower half, with the only part free was a single leg sticking out for temperature control. A month ago, he would have already been awake, showered, and dressed off of three hours of sleep. She would have a cup of coffee ready for her and perhaps a peanut butter toast. Now they made coffee and toast together with Piper.
She patted his shoulder blade, hoping that was enough encouragement to rouse him. Her now silenced alarm almost did it. He only issued a sleepy moan of appreciation for the touch and remained unmoved. She then started to trace the lines of his liminar mark on his back.
The collection of elaborate vivid silver lines with a black border created an ever-growing pattern of duality. There was one side that represented joy and life, a symbol of fatherhood. Across from that were the sharp breaking lines of sorrow, loss, and death. Of those who died, those who were estranged, and grief for a youth snatched away. Mixed into it were bold power lines and curves that were the celestial symbols of the transformation he could use as celestial symbols.
She was there, symbolized as sprigs of mistletoe clinging to clean curves and sharp of the art deco-like mark. The only thing that stood out was a cluster of mistletoe suffocating the letter “M” on the lower right side of his back.
In the center of it all was a moon with a halo of light around it. Lyn’s hand paused at the moon. It changed from a new moon to a half-moon. Change was something normal for a liminar’s mark. However, lunar-types were special, as the symbolism wasn’t always clear. It didn’t match up with what was going on Liminar’s life because sometimes it was preemptive or spoke of something deeply internal. Understanding was only found during the process of discovering what it meant.
She hoped it was something preemptive and not worth overthinking. Long ago she was warned that trying to determine anything about a lunar-type based off their own moon mark was the path to madness. She was also told never to marry one. Her mother claimed that lunar and solar types were made to understand each other. In school she was taught it was imperative to never fall in love either, as she would take them away from their true spouse. And marrying a lunar male meant that she would create an imbalance in their duality as she was taking him away from his family. And, what many cited as the worst part, lunar males were not worth dealing with because of their shifting personality.
Lyn figured out long ago that Gideon reinforced and contradicted that stereotype. Certainly, he had a flowing mood, but he was never sulky or full of high-strung emotions. In fact, he was very low-strung, but his more derisive actions came when he was shadowed. And that was why she told him to quit the DA’s office.
If the moon were full, he would be a bit more thoughtful and willing to compromise. Someone at work would talk him out of it. She didn’t want that. It wasn’t difficult to see that the job was too much for him and that he needed to do something else. And perhaps him quitting being a prosecutor was a life-changing event enough to change the mark, but it should have changed the day he quit. Something else had shifted. She then took her phone and positioned it above his back and snapped a photo.
Gideon lifted his head and then rolled to his side and pointed accusingly at her.
“You’ve been caught red-handed. You’re accused of voyeurism. What’s your plea?” he muttered groggily.
She gasped. “Don’t insult me with actions that are beneath me.”
He squinted at her dubiously.
“Voyeurism is my audience’s job. There’s a market for fine sexy backs,” she told him and then showed him her phone.
He blinked hard at the phone, waking himself up further, and then spoke in a noncommittal tone. “Interesting. Do you need me to wake the kiddo?”
She then told him slowly, “I do, but why the change now?”
He shrugged and started to roll out of bed and then reversed. “I’ll get up in a minute.”
Lyn was surprised. He was usually very interested when his mark changed. Unless he already knew about it and didn’t tell her. Which was odd as well. Gideon rarely kept a secret. And even if he did, well, she just waited until the right moon. Or when he transformed.
Lyn rose and started her morning routine on top of still adjusting to their new typical. Piper dragged as usual from waking up to eating breakfast, except this morning Gideon joined her in the slow moving. Both were settled at their groggy pace until Lyn pointed to the clock. And then Piper raced around with him, rushing her out the door and jogging with her to the bus stop.
It was a work-from-home day for the both of them. Normally, he would step into the local attorney’s office and not work on cases, but they hired him to help them with cases as well as be the new host on an educational Youtube channel about law. The attorney that left wanted to progress their career with a job that had more stability. Gideon was chosen because he was a good speaker. They witnessed many of his opening statements and begrudgingly liked how he addressed juries. And that gave him time so he could work from home if he needed to, and that day he did and used it to talk to the first detective assigned to Mia’s case.
Lyn eavesdropped and heard him phrasing things that consisted of the familiar things she heard before.
“Yeah, it was a long time ago...” to “Yes, time does change.”
He wasn’t getting anywhere, which was typical of early investigation, he said. It didn’t help that it was a cold case from 20 years ago.
Lyn stopped paying attention to him and focused on her own work, editing the local arts magazine. She wasn’t in her office that day because the plumbing was being worked on, and she didn’t want to sit at a computer listening to the destruction of pipes the entire day.
She honed in on her work for about two hours with only the hum of her desktop and keyboard keeping her company. She didn’t hear Gideon’s footsteps approaching her room. He paused at the doorway of the spare bedroom she occupied. She didn’t notice his eyes sweeping the room until his gaze settled on the boxes they shoved in there from their move.
She continued working and pushed her chair toward the printer, which rested on a plastic container.
“Stalker,” she teased.
He stared with a wide-eyed expression that was filled with frustration.
“I take it no one can remember 20 years ago.”
He chuckled wryly. “I doubt I can find anyone who doesn’t have a foggy memory. And it’s not because of time,” he returned.
Lyn paused and saved her work. “Oh, something magically amiss?”
“That’s a glorious understatement.” He clapped his hands. “Soo, here is what I gathered. Four motorists saw Mia walking along the highway in the wee hours of the morning. Two people tried to call out to her. She kept walking like she didn’t hear them. Another, a neighbor, tried to physically stop her, but as they chased her, she was always ‘further down the road than they thought’ so they stopped. None of them called her parents, or called 911 from a payphone a mile down the road. When the detective interviewed them, they all said the same thing; they forgot her until reminded. Some even mention hearing grackles in the middle of the night.”
Lyn swirled her chair to face him as the printer spit out paper. “So an aura was placed on her?”
He nodded. “Likely. And this is just the start. Check your phone; I sent you an article.”
Lyn pushed herself back to her desk and picked up her phone. She pulled up an article that had a photo of Patti and a headline that read:
Longtime Greenhouse Owner Missing.
She scrolled down the article, flabbergasted.
“She never came home from work last night,” he went on. “There are several security cameras showing her walking away from the greenhouse after it closed. Some even captured her walking down the sidewalk miles away, and then she vanished. A friend saw her but didn’t think to turn around and ask where she was going. She forgot her until reminded by a phone call from Patti’s husband.”
“Wow, that red flag is waving loud and proud. But Mia’s case was 20 years ago? Why now?”
“I asked the same question. So, I went back a couple decades through missing person reports and found a man named Cornelius Connors, who went missing 20 years before Mia. He was last seen after he left a local small bar walking down Old Route 219. A patrol car was sent after he was nearly hit by a tanker. He was spotted before turning into the woods and vanishing.”
Lyn looked at him and then down at her phone screen. “Let me guess, the officer didn’t pursue.”
“No. He said it was like he forgot why he stopped.”
Lyn leaned back in her chair. “So three people?”
Gideon shook his head and chuckled and then stated flatly. “Oh no, this creepy train keeps going. Then there is the more well-known case of the Smidt family. David ‘Papa’ Smidt, his wife Rebecca, and their teenagers, David Jr. and Anna, all went missing on an April day. They were last seen driving down Old Route 219, where they got out of a perfectly running car and began to walk. The only witness, an older woman, 74-year-old Daisy Tyme, saw them because they parked their car in front of her farmhouse. She called the police a day later when no one came to pick it up. She said something particular, though.”
“What?”
“If you find Cornelius Conners, you’ll find who did this to the Smidt family. Two months later Daisy Tyme was found dead on her farm in her orchard from an apparent heart attack.”
“So no one you can talk to?”
“I mean, she would be nearly 100 by now. But there is more. 20 years before that, Richard P. Buncanan and his brother Kent. Richard walked out of his house during the night and was never seen again. Then two months later, his brother did the same. Before Kent went missing, he told a friend he was being haunted by a flock of grackles.”
Lyn rubbed her arms. “This sounds like a bad horror movie.”
“You want horror? Let’s go back to the 1950s. Minnie and Tess Welsh left a bonfire abruptly and were last seen walking home along, guess what, Old Route 219. They walked in the opposite direction of their home. Everyone forgot because a large flock of grackles flew in the trees. Then their older brother arrived to pick them up an hour later. He drove up and down the road trying to find them before he called the police.”
“So this was the first incident of the Missing 219?”
“Huh, you would think they would have that label, but yes,” he nodded. “These are all labeled as separate cases except for some local folk story about the ‘219 Snatcher.’”
Lyn grimaced. “Or the 219 Undying, because this sounds like an undying.”
He nodded grimly. “It’s so painfully obvious when you find the connection. You would think that the liminar living here would do something about them or contact someone who can. And at the same time, I get it. Snatching a family of four or even two people at a time is a show of power the average liminar probably doesn’t know how to face.”
Lyn leaned on her desk, knowing what that was like. Except the undying they faced wasn’t so obvious and was powerful. She felt cold and wished the memory in her mind would become forgotten. She wanted to forget that helpless feeling while she felt while she was safe at the edge of her parents’ yard. He was up in the hills running in terror for his life. She was powerless with only the ability to get help and find his mother. She could never shake that haunted expression on his face as he sat in front of her parents’ woodstove. How his mark shifted before her eyes from full to a crescent moon.
“So what are you going to do?” she prompted.
Gideon arched a brow at her. “Stop them obviously.”
She knew he was far from that scared teen searching for their missing friend, but his ease made her uneasy. It felt like misplaced confidence. The most powerful liminar the two fought had made a wooden automaton to become immortal. Never an undying. Gideon didn’t escape his encounter with that one unscathed. He really shouldn’t have survived it. Other than the change in his mark, he became afflicted with tragic sight. It was disruptive and something he couldn’t control, and it was always the same thing. Their friend Kyith showing him something. Something dangerous, and she and him would tackle that danger head on.
Gideon took a deep breath and then said, “Change of subjects. Why does the change in my mark bother you?”
Lyn frowned. If she were cruel, she would force him back to talking about the undying. At least he had to admit that the prospect of dealing with another undying was a terrifying prospect. Though that was her husband, he would always be the sentinel his mother trained him to be. Instead, she went along with it. He wasn’t afraid of anything except spiders.
“What makes you think it bothers me?” she returned.
“The symbolism. For all I know, you’re thinking I’ve become deranged and want to separate.”
“It was your reaction that bothered me. You acted like it was nothing,” she said.
He wasn’t wearing his shroud at the time. His hair was silvering, and each eye was two different phases of the moon. All of it combined to make the thoughtful expression he wore more poignant.
“Well, because you’ve been acting like something was nothing. You’re late,” he returned quietly.
She sank back in her chair and tried not to place a hand on her abdomen. Of all the men in the world, she married the one who was aware of shifts in cycles and phases that weren’t his.
“The moon is cycling because life is changing. I noticed it a few days ago,” he explained.
“Sure, life is changing; you switched jobs. And while my period should have ended four days ago, there are no changes to my mark. I could just be late. It’s not the first time. That’s why I acted like it was nothing.”
“Show me,” he requested.
“You just want me to strip,” she teased as she pulled the dress she wore over her head and turned her back towards him. She inspected her mark in the mirror for the entire week. She saw the familiar curls of mistletoe that had grown more verdant and not less since their move. She was determined not to lose the skill she gained while living in the rural countryside.
Though the stamens and styles of a lily to represent their marriage seemed shorter. She loved Gideon, but their move and his office strained her days and made her question if it was worth it. His new job was better, and he was more present, so the lily would grow again but changed. But that wasn’t what her concern was. It was the cracked seeds from which no life sprang up and a holly sapling that represented Piper. She saw no changes the previous day. Then she felt his thumb caress her skin right beside where Piper was at the edge of the waistband of her underwear.
“It’s faint, but there’s a sprout,” he declared.
She twisted her neck as if she could look down and see it. “Are you serious?”
He took her phone and snapped a photo. She snatched it from his hand. Next to the holly sapling was indeed a sprout. It was silvery compared to Piper, symbolized in the dark lines of a holly sapling. Her excitement was tempered because around the sprout were the cracked, empty seeds.
“The moon didn’t change for Piper because she didn’t take anything from me,” he said to her. “I feel a faint draw of my power.”
Lyn faced him to find his almond eyes the shape of crescent moons.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” she said.
“But there is hope. I didn’t think it was possible again, and not a girl who would be like me. You greenies are very dominant.”
“Is that a comment on mage phenotypes or bedroom talk?”
“Both,” he said shamelessly and scooted so he sat on her desk. She stepped in between his knees. His entire body hummed with anticipation until she didn’t meet his eyes. She touched him like she wanted him close but no further than that. He noted the shift and lowered his hands.
“You’re not upset. I mean, it’s unexpected given we gave up.”
“It’s not that I’m upset; it’s just that I don’t want to feel disappointment again,” she admitted. She had a lot of disappointment before Piper. Some of it was painful, both physically and mentally. So him becoming apologetic wasn’t unexpected. Becoming a father wasn’t what he strived to become. When they left the wilds, they were focused on just trying to make a new life. They were friends with no plans to marry, and then they just did. Then they tried for a child, understanding that their types were compatible, just not trouble-free.
She stroked his messy hair off his forehead, tugging at a curl, and straightened and released it. It took back its shape like a spring.
“You didn’t do this alone. I’ve taken advantage of you.”
He beamed again. “Finally. Vindication! After all these years, you’re finally admitting to being a seductress and taking advantage of me being a weak man.”
She nodded. “That’s right. And now you’ll let me take advantage of you more in the shower we are about to take.”
“And still you have no shame,” he said, hopping off the desk and taking her hand, and she dragged him out of the room.