Free Spiritwalk by Charles De Lint

hand to show her the one I’d picked, she got all excited and said to the guy, ’I told you she knows!’
    “’Wait a minute,’ I told her. But before I could do anything she was grabbing at me and her hand... her hand... it went right inside me. It was like she was pulling me out of me.” Perspiration beaded Emma’s brow as she spoke, her gaze going off into some far distance now. “I hit her—just shoved her as hard as I could away from me—and took off. There was this weird wailing sound then, and suddenly I was running, through the woods, and those creatures of hers were after me and... and...”
    “And what?” Blue asked as her voice trailed off.
    “I woke up.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “I woke up and I was safe in my bed, except I still felt like I was being chased—somewhere else. Like the dream was going on, only I wasn’t part of it anymore. You see what I mean? Just talking about this makes
me
think I sound crazy. But I’ve had the dream again—two nights running now and I feel... God, this sounds stupid... I really feel like there’s something missing in me. It’s like I can’t feel things anymore. I can’t laugh or get mad or... Is this making any sense?”
    “It gets worse,” Blue said.
    “What do you mean?”
    “You checked out your shadow lately?”
    “My... ?” Emma lifted a hand up against the light coming through the window and her face went pale at the lack of a shadow. Her gaze, when it lifted to meet Blue’s, wasn’t so expressionless anymore. Behind its flatness was a raw streak of fear.
    “This friend of yours,” Blue said. “The one that lived here. What was her name?”
    “Esmeralda,” Emma said. “Esmeralda Foylan.”
    “Oh, Christ,” Blue said. He rubbed his face with his hands.
    “You know her!” Emma cried. “And that’s how you know what my dad used to call me. I must have told Esmeralda once and she... she...” Her voice trailed off again as Blue shook his head.
    “I want you to meet somebody,” Blue said. “This is going to seem weird, but he can help you, so hang in there.”
    “What... what do you mean?”
    Blue pointed to the computer screen. “Emma, I’d like you to meet Jamie.”
    The cursor darted across the screen, leaving the words HELLO, EMMA—PLEASED TO MEET YOU behind them.
    Emma just stared at the screen, her mouth shaping a soundless “O.”
    4
    Chance never had any doubts about the existence of Faerie—not after that bit with a snake. Glamorgana showed him her gnashers later—“Usually you can only see Faerie when they wish to be seen,” she told him, which was just as well as far as Chance was concerned. Christ, they were ugly. He met her bard, too. Taran, like the Lady herself, could have passed for normal if he’d just put on some real clothes. Instead the bard went for soft leather trousers with something that looked like a minidress on top. And a cloak. He liked this green cape thing and wore it all the time like he thought he was some kind of superhero.
    Chance didn’t much care for the bard. He figured there wasn’t anything between the bard and the Lady, but he still saw Taran as a competitor for her affections.
    He did his first job for her a week or so after they met.
    “I want you to fetch me a hob,” she told him.
    “A what?”
    “Do they teach you nothing in your schools?”
    Chance shrugged and lit up a smoke. “They teach all kinds of crap, but who listens?”
    “I see,” Glamorgana said, hiding her irritation. “Well, a hob, my dragon, is a small Seelie Faerie—a little wizened man the size of a child. The one I want is named Rutherglen Cam.”
    “Seelie?” Chance asked. “Like with flippers?”
    Glamorgana sighed. “There are two Courts of Faerie,” she explained. “The Seelie and the Unseelie. Seelie means sainly—blessed.”
    “Right,” Chance said doubtfully. “You want me to get you a hob. No problem. Where do I find him?”
    She gave him a seeking stone and explained how its