Eccentric Circles

by Rebecca Lickiss

Chapter Two

The man stared at Piper in wide-eyed surprise. She hoped she didn't also look like some deer trapped by an oncoming car's headlights. She was acutely aware of the short, satiny, spaghetti-strap chemise nightshirt she had on. She wished she'd worn her heavy flannel granny gown. She tried to clear her mind and think where in the kitchen Grandma Dickerson might have kept her butcher knives.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Piper inched along the counter, hoping to make it to the other side of the room, and the phone.

"I beg your pardon," he said. He stood and bowed to her, sweeping his blue, calf-length cape behind him. "I am Aelvarim. Forgive me, but you startled me."

Now that he was standing, Piper could see that he wore some sort of old-fashioned tunic, light tan in color, which appeared to be made out of some sort of hide. Possibly his own, it was that tight across his chest and shoulders. His legs were encased in hose or leggings, apparently painted on, in a blue color that exactly matched his cape. Tan pointed boots completed his ensemble. No, she'd missed the blue feathered hat on the table.

"I startled you?" Piper gulped her fear down. She'd made it to the sink, and he'd made no move toward her. Another quarter of the room, and she'd grab the phone. "This is my house. What are you doing here?" She didn't like his intense stare; it made her nervous.

Aelvarim reseated himself, and began to hum.

Piper relaxed. She couldn't think of any reason why she was suddenly less nervous, but now that her shaky legs could actually carry her to the phone, she was loath to go. She took a deep breath and walked to the phone.

"I would never hurt you," he said quietly, before he resumed humming.

Her hand touched the phone, but she couldn't look away from him. He'd certainly had a more-than-adequate chance to attack her, but he just sat there looking ... cute. His large blue eyes expressed only innocence. He hadn't even leered at her, for pity's sake, and there she was with nearly nothing on. It was almost insulting.

For the first time she saw the red sheen of his hair, and realized that it wasn't black, but a very, very dark red. His face seemed almost to glow a deep golden. Her gaze traveled down his face from his bright, blue eyes, past his full lips and smooth chin, down his golden neck, to where the ties of his tunic had carelessly come undone and opened, revealing a small portion of his golden chest. She watched his chest rise and fall as he breathed, and fancied she could see the slight bump of each beat of his heart, barely hidden under the thin, taut hide of his tunic.

He stopped humming, and Piper realized she was sitting across the kitchen table from him. "You have my name, may I know yours?"

"Piper Pied," she said absently as she started to stand.

Aelvarim's face lit in a wide smile. "Oh, you're Grandmother Dickerson's great-granddaughter. She told me much about you. Please, may we talk?"

Piper sat back down. He had to be one of Grandma's flaky friends. Could he be one of the neighbors Grandma had mentioned in her letter? She couldn't imagine him living nearby and Grandma not attempting some sort of matchmaking with great-granddaughters, or other young single female relatives. Still, she'd have to discourage him from just walking in and making himself to home. Though, there were worse sights to see first thing in the morning.

"I wanted to talk with whoever inherited the house about Grandmother Dickerson's murder." He stared at her seriously and intently. "We have to find the murderer and finish the story, or everything we know will be destroyed."

He was cute; even though he dressed like a refugee from a renaissance fair, and had a dramatic flair for finding murder and ruin in everyday life. Piper sighed. "Grandmother Dickerson died of complications of old age, stroke and heart failure. The doctors said so."

"No, she was murdered." Staring intently, Aelvarim leaned toward her. "Whoever did it knew well the use of magic. For they twisted the arcane arts to accomplish their hideous deed, and mask it in the guise of the ordinary."

"Magic." Piper tried not to smile. How could he be so sincere and so mistaken at the same time? "I suppose you know all about magic."

Sighing, Aelvarim slumped in his chair shaking his head. His hair fell in thick locks around his face. "No. I'm not accomplished in the recondite arts. I am but a novice. I can do a few tricks only." He pulled himself up. "Still, I will not leave Grandmother Dickerson's murder unavenged." He pushed his hair back from his face.

His long, tapering, elegant fingers caught Piper's attention as they slid through his smooth, shiny, dark red hair, combing it away from his face. It was only as his fingers brushed against his ears that she noticed the tall, golden points of his ears sticking out of the dark locks.

"I know the murderer was of Fairy, because I can feel the rift between the worlds of Fairy and Human. I'm a storysmith."

"The murderer was a fairy?" Piper tried to examine his ears surreptitiously. She couldn't see any demarking line between his flesh and the false points.

"That's possible, I suppose, but I can't see any of them putting themselves to that much effort. No, I suspect it is someone else. I can feel the change in the story, as if someone has tried to warp it to their ends."

Piper gave up searching his ears and decided to be blunt. "And, you're a fairy, too?"

She'd never seen anyone look so indignantly wounded before. Obviously piqued, Aelvarim fussed with the shoulders of his cape.

"No. I'm an elf. Not a fairy, an elf. Aelvarim means 'victorious army of elves.' I was named after ... Never mind. The important thing is, I'm an elf."

Realizing she'd touched on a sore spot, Piper quickly said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend." Suddenly she remembered that this was her house, and he was the intruder. "Look, what are you doing here, and what do you want? Get to the point."

He returned to staring intently at her. "I need you to help me find the murderer and fix the story. If we can complete the story, we can heal the rift that's tearing our worlds apart from each other, and everything will continue as it should."

Piper couldn't help smiling. "And they lived happily ever after. The end."

"If it were only that easy." Aelvarim shook his head. "Grandmother Dickerson's house, because of the mass of stories here and Grandmother Dickerson herself, has become a connecting point between the world of Fairy and the world of humans. But, I'm afraid Grandmother Dickerson's knowledge and power brought her to the attention of someone with a very evil mind." He leaned across the table, scattering paper and books, to whisper, "She was writing a story, you know. I think that she knew what was happening, and put clues into her manuscript, in case anything happened. Which, unfortunately, it did."

Automatically catching the books before they could fall, Piper restacked the piles on the table. "Look, Aelvarim, I'm sure you believe everything you're saying. And, undoubtedly, it would be fun to search the house for treasure, or another will, or an unpublished manuscript, but maybe another time. I need to get breakfast, and get dressed, and I might actually have a job to go to, so why don't we let it go for now? We'll look into it later. Sometime." Piper stood, went to the back door, and opened it. Hoping he'd get the hint and leave. Also, it put her closer to the phone if he chose not to take the hint.

Aelvarim looked pained. He leaned back in the chair, stretching out his long, long legs, and hummed. She noticed his legs crossed at the ankles, just at the top of his boots. His legs were lean and muscular, without being thick, and the tights clung nicely to his legs while displaying every inch.

When he stopped humming, Piper realized she was sitting at the kitchen table again.

"There truly is a world of Fairy," Aelvarim said quietly. "And some power from it did murder your great-grandmother. And I need your help, as the new owner of this house connecting the two worlds, to find the murderer and fix the story."

"Yes, I write, but I'm not published." Piper found herself getting angry along with defensive. Now not only did she have this mess to sort through in the house, but this idiot wanted her to rewrite Grandma's manuscript. If such a thing existed. "I'm not sure what's wrong with my own writing. I don't think I could fix anyone else's manuscript."

"No, I didn't mean Grandmother Dickerson's manuscript." Aelvarim sat up straight. "I meant your grandmother's life, this house, Fairy, and Human. The things that are happening here, what is going on."

"Life," Piper said. "Life is what is happening here. My great-grandmother died, and life is going on. Life is not a story."

"Depends on your perspective, doesn't it."

Maybe if she fed him, he'd go away. He was certainly cute, and very nice to look at, but she had serious concerns about his sanity. Not that he appeared to be dangerous, he just acted like he didn't live in the same world with everyone else.

"It's too early for this." Piper stood up. "I'm going to get dressed, then I'll fix breakfast, and we can talk."

His eyes flicked down, then up, as he looked her over. "You appear to be dressed now."

Piper walked to the bedroom and shut the door behind her without a word. It had no lock. That worried her, but she reminded herself that it also meant there was no keyhole in the door. She walked through the cluttered room, closing the window curtains. From the suitcase balanced precariously on several stacks of books, Piper pulled clothes, choosing jeans and a large, floppy sweater to wear.

Back in the kitchen, she found Aelvarim still seated at the table. He smiled uncomfortably at her as she rummaged around, pulling out bread for toast and eggs to scramble. She turned to face him. "So, did you want some breakfast, too?"

He hesitated, glancing from the items she'd pulled out, to her face, to the back door, and back to her face. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt anything." She'd started the eggs when he asked, "Could I be of some assistance? Or would you prefer I stayed out of your way?"

"Sure, you can make the toast." Piper tossed him the loaf of bread, and watched as he examined the clear plastic wrap and twist tie.

"Toast," he said uncertainly, looking around the room. He'd discovered the secret to the twist tie, and was slowly unraveling it. "Where is your fire?"

"Just make them in the toaster." She brushed aside the recipes and pulled the faded, quilted, hen cover from the shiny metal toaster.

Piper couldn't help smiling as he looked the toaster over thoroughly, then reexamined the bread. He certainly took his insanity seriously. She managed to stir the eggs, and keep an eye on him. He gingerly put a slice of bread in each of the two slots, then stepped back, as if expecting it to explode or the bread to shoot out at him.

After a moment Aelvarim stepped forward again, and tensed, as if ready to jump back if he were mistaken. Finally, he relaxed and watched the bread sit in the slots, for developments.

"Push the handle down." She had to turn back to stir the eggs, or she'd have burst out laughing.

Risking a glance over her shoulder, Piper saw Aelvarim pick up the toaster and discover the handle. He set the toaster back down before pushing the handle. As a precaution he stood as far away as he could.

Piper dished up eggs onto two plates, and turned to Aelvarim as the toast popped up. Holding the plates out, she said, "One on each plate."

He reached for them, and quickly pulled his hand back. "They're hot."

"Yes, they're toasted."

Swiftly, he put one slice on each plate. She set the plates on the table and motioned for him to sit. Piper started another round of toast, grabbed two forks, a knife, margarine, and filled two glasses with water. "Sorry, I don't have any coffee. I don't have much of anything yet."

Aelvarim nodded, while staring at his plate. She started eating, and he watched her for a moment, before tentatively picking up his fork.

"So, you're from Fairy, but you're not a fairy. What are fairies then?" she asked conversationally.

He dropped his fork, and began gesturing with his hands. He held them about six to eight inches apart, to indicate height. "They're about this high. Wings. Nonsensical temperaments and nasty little minds." His hands moved as if twisting or strangling something. "They're everywhere, and constantly stirring up trouble. They're vermin." He stopped himself, as if surprised at his words. He picked up his fork and made an effort to adopt a semblance of serenity. "They're quite different from elves, but they, too, have their place in the scheme of things."

"I see." Piper looked down at the paper beside her plate. It was a list of book titles in Grandma Dickerson's handwriting. "And you think Grandma Dickerson was murdered?"

With a bite of eggs in his mouth, he could only nod. Once having taken the first bite, Piper noticed he ate quickly. She wondered if he'd been expecting to be poisoned. She finished off her eggs and toast. "I don't suppose you'd believe me if I swore that the doctors were sure it was just old age."

He shook his head. Before his next bite, he said, "Murder."

Piper sighed. He was very cute, but she knew she had to return him to his keepers. Undoubtedly they were worried about him being gone from the asylum for so long. And now that she was an adult, with a house of her own and everything, she knew she couldn't give in to the "but I promise I'll take care of him, and feed him, and clean up after him" thoughts. She couldn't afford pets right now.

"Well." Piper tossed her plate and fork in the sink, so as not to be looking at him when she said, "How about you show me where you live, and we can talk some more about this." We'll talk with your keepers about your delusions, and why you shouldn't be allowed to roam unsupervised.

She wondered if she'd made a mistake, when he stepped up beside her to put his plate and fork in the sink. He was nearly beaming with joy.

"I'd be honored to show you my home."

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To see cover photo and other art by Alan L. Lickiss go to:

http://cophotog.deviantart.com/

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