Hell Week All Over

Between interviewing the staff that were having sleep problems, tracking down trace evidence for the Quester, and trying to keep the staff from forming an angry mob, I’ve been distracted from a situation I can feel but can’t help. Not that I could leave my duties here, but there is something going on... later.

What with the Gallifreyans occasionally dropping by for a cryptic bit of interrogation over tea now and again, I figure I eventually figure out how to time-shift between planes, or they have me confused with my sister. You don’t know her yet, so don’t worry. The one that dropped by this week was mercifully brief, and I dropped a bug in her ear about checking on my brother in a few decades. I can’t get more specific than that from this angle.

I got a quick visit from Great Uncle Ibiz, after I sent him a note with questions about shielding others from psychic attacks. His lessons came just in time, what with Hâjdău fretting over her beau, and others on staff worrying about their families. Aunt Kitla has been setting wards along many of the residential streets, focusing on protecting the Managers and Council first, as they are going to have to take the lead against... whatever is coming.

That was an interesting interview, going to Manager Lunar and asking his permission for the equations to be formed. His main worry was that it would make us seem unfriendly to all. Aunt Kitla reassured him that the wards would only work on those with intent to harm. I quietly had a word with one of the owls later, asking if they could keep an eye out for us. I got a cryptic, sort of feeling, sort of “If we have time” from them. I may fly, but I still don’t understand birds.

Another cryptic one is the watcher for Antfarm. I managed to snag a salmon over the falls before dropping in yesterday morning, and the tomcat was waiting on the front porch. [he sleeps now, and not so many nightmares from the other place] he said before tearing into the salmon I had field-dressed. While he ate, I checked the wards I had put on the house. Still there, and this one was a bit hinky, since I set them up without Mr Antfarm’s permission. Not that he could see them. I think. But they were to protect him, and unlike the personal protections I did for the staff, I was able to link these wards to the ley lines on the property. The tomcat spoke up suddenly, [watch your head - the one coming is old - very old - likes sneaking up on the sleeping ones]. I nodded, [Thank you, cousin, I will].

Normally, my next stop would be Dr Beck’s office, but I was too tired for another argument-that-was-only-a-discussion-about-his-health, and headed for the Consulate office. The clerk’s den was buzzing, much like any industrious hive, but there was an undertone to the murmurs, one that did not bode well for the perpetrator of the dreams. There is fear, but a lot of the staff are transmuting that into anger. The ones from the Old Country don't take well to being manipulated like that. Aunt Kitla’s report has already made the rounds of the desks here, and they seem to understand her conjecture that there is a pawn being used, one that is not well educated enough to be a sorcerer calling up an Elder God. This is the benefit of having an educated populace, at least they have a proper discussion before voting to take up pitchforks and torches.

Hâjdău greeted me with a cup of tea and a pastry from the galley, and generally fussed over me until Mama was done with the courier in her office. Mama has one rule about going into her office - if the door is closed, you don’t go in unless the building is on fire. The kid looked much more rested than the last time I saw her, and miles better than when I first saw her for her nightmares. While I ate, she gathered the reports on the Quester’s needs for me, and typed up my rough notes on my last patrol for Vater. We finished up about the time the courier left Mama’s office, and as I was putting my plates at the galley, I heard someone sneeze. Hâjdău muttered, “sănătate,” as a few others absently said “bless you,” and Mama responded, “mersi”.

When a few heads popped up at that exchange, I grabbed my bag out of the aether and went to her office. Considering the last time Mama was ill, it was from that expedition into the Mines, and that was almost two years ago. “What have you been doing, other than too much?” I asked as I began the examination. She waved at me irritably, “I am fine, just tired.” Her shields were fairly thin, though. “How many are you shielding, now?” I asked, knowing her technique was to spin out additional shields from her personal ones.

She shrugged, “Family, students and some of the staff... maybe fifteen, all told. No, I added Miss Blackheart to the network after the meeting, sixteen.” Then she sneezed again.

“Hâjdău, could you go get the captain, and Messenger, please let the Baron know Mama is on sick leave.” Mama’s assistant dashed off and Messenger nodded, asking “How long do you estimate she will be unavailable?”

“Normally, I’d say two weeks, but it will be a fight to keep her in bed more than a few days.” He nodded and began drafting a note for Vater. Mama was not at all happy about it, “Why are you bringing Captain Veles in on this?” I was still checking her over, and not liking what I saw. “Because the only way to get you to rest properly is to set your bodyguard on the detail, and Aunt Birdie is still at Bunică’s house.” She started winding up for a debate, but as soon as Papa showed up with Hâjdău trailing behind, she probably saw it was not an argument she would win.

“Fine, but I am still expecting reports...” she muttered, until Papa shook his head, and led her from the office to the house. Hâjdău asked as they left, “Is she really cut off from the daily reports? We really should have something for her, or she’ll worry.”

“And worrying will not help her get better, true. Send a copy of the morning reports, and I’ll make sure she sleeps through the afternoon dispatch.” I nodded, “Good thing you’re here - you’d be wasted in the schloss.” With that, I closed the door to Mama’s office and left on foot, following my own advice to get some rest.

When Others Are Losing Theirs

I've only been cleared for flight for a week, now. Seems I had some residual damage from the divine revelation, even with the instinctive actions from my eyes. Luckily, Wolfgang was able to let me link to his eyes well enough to get me off the pagoda. Mama says he's designing winged apparatus, now. Good thing I don't have to see to planes shift, she was pretty upset.

Great Uncle Ibiz grounded me until my vision came back to 20/1, but I was able to see well enough to walk in a few days, so I took some time to work on his project, interviewing the old aunties in the villages on the Dyne watershed. They were delighted to have someone to talk to them about the begets of the village. Not a lot of new information, but it all gets recorded, in case it is needed for another project.

I filed copies with the local census department, and headed back with copies for Vater. He's a lot better about sharing information if it is reciprocal. It took little time to drop them off with Vater's assistant. Typing them up took the most time, because Mama's assistant was out. Then I noticed about half the support staff was not in the office.

"Ah, do you have any duties for the rest of the day? Could you run some errands in town for me?" Mama's tone was hopeful, with a slight edge of stress to it. When she starts down that road, it's better to pitch in than skive off. Besides, anything else I had on my plate would have been in Europa or the family holdings. Her relief was a cool breeze as she handed me a list of the staff that were out, and their addresses. "Please check on these people, we might have something not-physical happening." Another sheet of paper, "...and the reports we have so far, if any of them are embarrassed about having issues."

"So, you aren't suspecting a sick-out or goldbricking," I checked the first sheet of paper, and saw Hâjdău headed the list, "...erm, I see - not with her in on it."

"Her first missed day of work - yes, I am worried, but cannot spare the time to check on her right now." I glanced over and saw three clerks waiting to talk to her.

"I got it Mama, and I can have this for you by lunch, if there's nothing serious." Rather than shove out through the crowd, I left by the open window. Hâjdău lives at the hotel, less than a block from the office, so I glided over. Shifting back to my cipher-in-the-background form when I landed on the hotel's front steps, none of the staff likely saw anything but the Wulfenbach courier's uniform as I crossed the lobby.

When she responded to the knock on her door, Hâjdău did not sound sick, she sounded scared out of her wits. Still, I reached into the margins *pulled* my medic pack out of the Infirmary as I answered, "It's Ama, from the office - I came by to check on you."

Hâjdău opened the door, quickly, asking "Do I still have my head?"

Ooookay, so this was going to be one of those illnesses. "I see you as I last saw you, but why don't I come in and make sure there's nothing wrong, hm?" Since she was still in her nightgown and dressing robe, I figured it better to get her calm with some routine medical evaluation. She nervously let me in, and I checked her over. There weren't any physical problems that I could find in my quick once-over, save that she was worn out. She probably had not been sleeping well, poor kid. By the time I got to testing her pupil reactions, they were no longer pinpoints, and responded to light appropriately. "Everything checks out, can you tell me what feels wrong?" She was a little upset, but it was directed inward, scolding herself for being so skittish. Nodding, I said, "Why don't I start off, " and I made a show of reading from the sheaf of papers I brought with me, "Things have been relatively normal during the day, but at night you dream of Steelhead being shrouded in fog..."

She started in shock, and the words just tumbled from her like a mountain stream at snow-melt, mostly in Romanian. "It is so eerie, the streets are blocked by fog so thick it is difficult to breathe, and it does not get better when I am indoors! I wake, and was getting ready for work, when I could not find my head! Her panic was increasing in waves, and I had to throw a shield around her to keep myself calm.

"It's all right! It is a dream, but it is one that many are having! We can fix this, at least enough so you will know it is a dream, and be able to rest." Taking a moment to adjust the shields to keep things from reaching in to her, I asked, "Do you have a favorite stone, or piece of jewelry?" I knew she was going to show me that promissory ring, but it helped deflect her mind away from the panic. When she held up her hand, I told her to focus on it. She did so, quizzically, and I let a little of the power of anchoring the shields in the metal bleed through to the visible light spectrum.

I dropped back into English, "There... it won't keep them out completely, but it will be enough to keep them from scaring you half to death. If you are not wearing that ring, keep it within arm's reach of you, at least until we find out who is behind the dreams."

She looked at the ring with wide eyes as the slight glow faded. "You... you did not change the ring from what it was, did you?"

"No, it's just a convenient anchor. Your young man's gift is still there with it." Her head snapped up, and I smiled, "The feelings attached to that are still a promise. Though none of us have even met him yet."

Hâjdău blushed, then yawned, "Oh! My apologies, I shouldn't have yaw-" and then she did it again.

I chuckled, "You need to catch up on your sleep. I will check back on you later, after I get through the rest of the list." I let myself out of her room without waiting for her to stand.

Once out of the hotel, I shifted to wings and headed to Auntie Kitla's workshop in Harborside. That little parlour trick with the ring took more out of me than I dared let on in front of Hâjdău. She had to believe in it for it to work at full power, but whatever it was behind the dreams was old. Ancient and powerful enemies are not taken on lightly, and we were going to need the big guns for this.

Can't A Girl Get Any Sleep?

Wolfgang finally transformed last night, no doubts about that. Vater was properly publicly offended that the sheriff had hidden the tribe past the marker oak. Hey, for all I know, he could have been actually surprised, since he doesn't have time to read all of the reports. My reports are mostly low priority, since I am not officially attached to the office, and all I had seen was a village in a pocket valley, with no signs of martial organization beyond hunting parties.

After Anya calmed him down, Wolfie was a little disoriented, and understandably upset by the transformation. He was mostly worried about what he had done, and Sheriff Ortega confirmed he was not in trouble, just that he had to learn control. To do that, they would be leaving at daybreak. Mama started organizing the staff at the dance, handing out assignments as she walked with her arm around Wolfie, getting back to the Consulate building. I checked Wolfie over and he had no strains or cuts from his escape. Some of it was that he was limber and possessed of the Trickster's own luck, but some of it was rapidly healed.

Papa was upset we don't have something strong enough to contain a teenage werewolf, but he shrugged and hid it from the rest of the group. I might have to arrange for him and Uncle Gus to talk about security cells later. I only know medical restraints, and I don't think anything I have at hand would be able to keep up with Wolfie's metabolism. He is off chicken for a bit, I think, but was able to eat a respectable amount of bauernfruhstuck with a side of sticky buns for the first time in a while. Good thing Bunică came by to help Mrs Parks with the kitchen duties in the small hours of the morning, what with trying to feed and provision everyone to be ready by daybreak.

Bunică managed to save a dozen sticky buns to send to Anya for helping out. Interesting that all she had to say was "They are for Anya" and Wolfie left them alone. He even added a bowl of whortleberries to the basket before he left to pack. His first reflex to pack for a scientific field trip was deflected by Papa turning out his pack, and taking out half the empty sampling vials, replacing weight-for-weight with field rations and the trail kit. Wolfie added the slingshot and the shepherd's sling on his own.

I headed back to the lab again and slept. It's gotten to the point I sleep better with the hum of Father's machinery in the background. No word back from him, but with the aetheric transmitter, we don't always match times anymore - but at least I get to talk to him and my sibs occasionally. I drifted off organizing my next report for him.

I woke briefly when Manager Lunar came in. There's another kettle of trouble, but even as a teen-aged human, he knows which things to leave alone. It was safe enough for me to doze off again until I heard the clatter of someone unused to the stairs past the decontamination field across the door. The newcomer who is not Zaide was downstairs. I moved silently to the edge of the sleeping loft to watch and listen.

The offhand way the Manager rattled off decades of the Foundation history rankled a bit, but seen from the outside, by a human in hormonal fluctuation, it was mostly accurate. Just leaving out huge chunks of boring incidentals that made the family history. My family history. I waited and watched the newcomer as Lunar left.