One strong jerk back on her arm sent her falling back onto her rear end, safely away from the circle. The Duchamp woman straightened, and remained there, stone-faced, vaguely condemning of her rescuee and me both, not offering anything further in the way of a helping hand.
The chanting continued, Laird doing the lion’s share, but all of the occupants of the diagram were directing dirty looks this way, now. Those looks, however, were focused on the woman who’d very nearly fallen. She climbed to her feet, successfully this time, her face red with some mix of anger and humiliation.
Before eyes could turn to me, I put my hands to my mouth, my eyes wide, and scampered from the room. The kid who knew full well he was in deep trouble.
Damn.
I’d failed. If I got up to more shenanigans, they might get curious about the errant little boy who’d interfered with the ritual a second time.
I found myself in the living room, still littered with empty wine glasses and plates. Nobody was hurrying to follow, which was good. I wondered if they’d be making whispered excuses to one another, that the little boy was scared, it was an accident…
It didn’t matter. I didn’t have long.
I felt like a weight had been lifted from me, now that I was clear of the room. Every step away from the circle had diminished the volume of the ticking as if I’d taken ten. Being in the living room, I could barely feel it. With the second sight, I could make out the movements of the spirits, as if they were caught up in a current, fighting a headwind.
Okay. Interruptions were bad. The ritual was relatively delicate. The participants could be distracted, and the diagram could be interfered with.
Which didn’t make this easy. It was an exercise in problem solving. The problem being that I couldn’t interfere directly. Even being one step removed from the interference would be dangerous.
What was S.O.P. for being a guest? If I couldn’t poison them, what was I allowed to do when they were trying to fuck with me?
I might have to bite the karma bullet, I thought.
Fire alarm? No. Breaker? No.
I needed help.
I had the goblins, but… they were a dangerous kind of help. Help I couldn’t count on as being untraceable.
Rose couldn’t act.
Couldn’t get Maggie involved.
My eyes traveled over the room.
I spotted the phone in the front hallway.
With a child’s fingers, I hit the numbers. Nine, one, one.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
The cordless phone in hand, I made my way up the stairs and out of earshot. I nearly tripped on the stairs. Nearly tripped, mentally, trying to figure out how I was supposed to tackle this. “I- um-“
“Honey, did you mean to call nine-one-one?”
“Yes. It’s where I’m supposed to call when there’s something bad happening?”
“Yes it is. Are you in any danger right now?”
“Not unless they find me. I’m scared.” Which was truth, if I admitted it to myself.
“Where are you?”
Where was I?
I kept my voice quiet, sitting at the L-bend in the stairs where I could see downstairs, while remaining mostly out of sight. “I don’t know the address. But I’m in Laird Behaim’s house. He’s in charge of the Jacob’s Bell police.”
“I know, honey. What has you this scared?”
“I don’t know who else to call. I came for this family party and a lot of people left, but the people who are still here are talking about getting rid of somebody, and I think it has a lot to do with the girl who got murdered.”
“At Laird Behaim’s house?”
“Please send police,” I said, injecting some emotion into my voice. “Please? With sirens on? I want them to stop now. I don’t want to listen to any more-
“Dahab,” one voice spoke out from the back room, just loud enough for me to hear.
“Dahab,” four other voices answered, muffled by the intervening walls.
“-any more of this,” I finished. Balls. What was that? Three out of five?
“What’s your name, honey?”
Double balls.
“If I tell you, I’ll get in trouble. You can’t tell them I called, or they’ll hurt me. Please send police. Or fire trucks, ambulances? Anything loud?”
“They’re already on their way.”
“If they knock, and people don’t answer, it’s because everyone’s in the back room. It’s Laird Behaim and Sandra Duchamp, and other family members…” I thought for a second. “And one of them was saying… he said Mister Laird was talking about killing somebody. Murder. And now they’re all being grim and scary.”
“I understand, honey. Help is on the way, don’t worry. Why do you think they would hurt you?”
“Because…” I paused. What to even say?
“Honey? It’s okay.”
“Before, a few days ago, he said he’d get rid of me. He… said he wouldn’t enjoy it, but I was dead already.”
A fractional pause. “Are you somewhere safe?”
“No. But if I hide, won’t they realize I called?”
“Maybe, honey. But if you wait until the police come, they can make sure you go someplace safe.”
Problematic, in a way, but a good escape option.
“Some man was saying they make some of their kids get married to people they don’t want to marry, for favors and to get in good with the right people. Maybe- maybe if the policemen come, they can ask the girls?”
“Maybe,” the woman said. I wondered how she was parsing all of this.
“And the room they’re in is weird. It’s at the back of the house, and…” I thought for a second. “It’s got this glass case with all these sticks and things inside. One of them had spikes on it. I know he’s going to try to keep the policemen away from the room and convince them it’s not important, I’ve seen him do it before.”
“What happened before?”
Restless, I stood. I made my way to the bathroom, and I saw Rose in the mirror. “…He took me out and then he threatened me a little and left me to walk home in the dark. Some Other people stopped me and they would have hurt me, but a friend of mine made them leave me alone.”
What the hell did it say, that even with the oaths we’d made, the one thing I’d told the emergency dispatcher that felt closest to lying was the bit where I called Rose a friend?
“This is Laird Behaim?”
“The head policeman,” I said.
I could hear the sirens.
“They’re coming,” I said.
“Stay near the door. When the policemen answer, I want you to go to them, okay?”
“If you ever let them know I called,” I said. “They’re going to try and do bad things to me. Please. I’m safer so long as you stop them and you don’t say there was a call from this house.”
“We need to get you somewhere-“
“-If they find out I called and something happens to me,” I said, injecting a bit more emotion into my voice. “It’ll be your fault. Make them hurry. There’s no time. Hurry.”
That said, I hung up.
My heart pounded, even in the aftermath of the call. I could hear the sirens drawing closer.
“Hell of a gamble,” Rose said. “You never said you could act.”