Precious Illusions
part 8
"And how is everyone this morning?" Paige Matthews asked brightly as she quickly made her way into the kitchen, still noticeably clad in her pajamas, her bare feet sliding gently across the floor, as she came to an abrupt halt beside the coffee pot. Breathing an intense sigh of relief, she gently reached for it, easing the warm liquid into one of the mugs resting comfortably on the countertop, closing her eyes to savor the familiar aroma.
"Someone's got another date with Nick," Prue Halliwell uttered, throwing her half sister a small smile, as she grabbed a bagel to her left near the toaster, casually rolling up the sleeves of her faded pink cashmere sweater. "And just for the record, I think we're almost out of the orange juice."
"Nick's stopping by later," she managed, "but if you want my honest opinion here, I'm just glad we didn't all wake up trying to kill each other last night." She paused a moment, tilting her head to either side, as she stood on tiptoe, trying to get a much better glance at her surroundings. "Speaking of which, just where is our naked mystery guest at this hour?"
"She's up in the attic with Phoebe...asleep, I think. Cole is convinced we might be able to find something in the Book that could answer some questions about what was there in that cemetery."
She raised a brow, trying desperately to sound more annoyed than interested. "And what the hell does a cemetery have to do with a woman playing hide and seek in our niece's closet?"
"Something tells me it's probably not the abominable snowman," Prue quipped, shrugging.
"Well, if you're looking for a creature-feature here, there's always the coyote."
"Paige."
"Hey, I'm serious. In North American Indian mythology, the animal can change into a number of forms." She took a single sip of her coffee, cradling the cup protectively in her cold hands, entirely enjoying its soothing warmth. "He messed with humans big time, wanting to make life just a little more fun for us...all that jazz. And sometimes illness and death prospered from it."
Prue's gaze was still one of complete confusion. "He created death and disease?"
"So the story goes. Some of these were beneficial to us, while others couldn't be classified as anything more than disturbing or chaotic."
"So what you're trying to say, is that a coyote just miraculously chose Laurel out of thousands of other people, slowly snuck away into her coffin with her, relished the fact that she died at some point, and later brought her back to life?"
"Whoa. Wait. There was something in that coffin? Like right there with her...right in there sitting all glorified and comfy when they put her away and buried her?" Her eyes widened slightly, as if to wildly project her disbelief, her mouth forming a small token of surprise. "That's just creepy. Not uncommon, I'll grant you, but extremely creepy. I mean, usually people like to be laid to rest with money or pictures...even a gold watch or two. But live animals?"
"Yeah, well, I think it's safe to say she didn't ask for reincarnation," Prue mused thoughtfully, unconsciously biting her lower lip. "I thought there might be an Egyptian connection to it at first, but nothing fits. Basically, it's been there and already done that. We also know The Powers That Be aren't responsible."
"Somebody might've had different plans for her, wanted her good and ready when the time came."
"Maybe," she replied.
"And I'm guessing it wasn't Cole."
"Not everything can be traced back to his past," Prue told her, shaking her head, "and far be it for me to implement him in this just because the deceased and recently revived knew him many moons ago. Trust me, he's telling the truth."
"Do you think they did it?"
She continued to stare at the other witch, drawing a profound sense of bafflement. Blinking a few times, she narrowed her eyes. "Did what, exactly?"
"Oh, c'mon. For the love of God, Prue, sex! That thing that happens when two people decide to finally consummate their relationship after being acquainted for an acceptable amount of time?"
"Paige, did you know Australian mythology has a giant seven feet tall called Thardid Jimbo who lives in a cave and goes on a hunt for food every morning?" Cole Turner unexpectedly countered with a soft and beautiful smile, as he soundlessly crept up behind them, his scruffy complexion entirely amused. "In fact, I have it on good authority that his diet runs to poor, defenseless witches that refuse to mind their own business. Maybe I should summon him."
Her pretty face promptly flashed to a rather bright shade of crimson, as the cup she still held nearly slipped free of her grasp, her hands no longer steady and solid upon it. Her line of vision immediately searched for and found some comfort, rapidly focusing itself on the hard floor below, her lips somewhat parted, as she felt them faintly offer a brief tremble. "Sounds worse than the abominable snowman," she finally spoke up, nervously laughing.
"I'd wager it is."
"Oh God. You heard everything, didn't you?"
"I did."
"Cole-"
"And if you'd like to set the record straight in that particular area in terms of how productive I am, I suggest you ask Phoebe."
"I wasn't, I mean- I didn't...I just wondered, being so long ago, and all..."
"If I was at all capable of something like that with a woman I meant to kill, by direct order of the Source, thereby having to keep it strictly business right from the very beginning? Oh, I hardly think it's likely in this case. If I had, it would have been using her to my advantage a lot more than I would've liked, and that kind of behavior often comes with consequences a lot worse than death."
"Right. Sure. Fine. I just wanted-"
"But while we're on the subject, I find it interesting that you've shifted to mythology for this. Anything else I should know about, besides coyotes and snowmen?"
"You haven't found out anything?" Prue volunteered, taking the heat off her sister, as she proceeded to get a napkin from the table, wiping her hands free of the crumbs from the toasted bagel.
"Finnish mythology," he sided, nodding.
"Finnish?"
"Yes. Laurel's mother, as it so happens, was of Finnish descent. It would make sense that her ancestors educated her on their system of beliefs before they passed on- regardless of the validity surrounding them. It also makes sense that she would have told Laurel's father what they were and what she lived by."
"So how did you-"
"A little bird told me," he continued. "Naturally, there are some parallels with our own translations, which might just be able to help us out a bit later on."
"Like what?" Paige inquired.
"Kalma was their goddess for death and decay."
"Which, in our realm, would presumably be Hecate...in a weird sort of way."
"Presumably. According to Finnish mythology, when she wasn't residing in the Underworld, Kalma was busy haunting graves and stealing flesh from our dearly departed. Tuonela, their...equivalent for the Underworld, has her residing in an invisible place with a flesh-eating creature called Surma, who took pleasure in devouring human beings."
"Okay, yuck. And this is essentially related to Laurel, how?"
"I think I'm going to call Piper," Prue interjected. "Leo might have filled her in on something that could be useful. We need to bring her in on this."
"It's worth a try," he agreed. "Either way, this creature is probably responsible for Derek Wilkinson's death. The law firm was a hint- a message. And I'm not letting go of that. Byron said it was committed in an act of violence so our eyes would be opened to something. What that something is...still remains to be seen."
"And Byron's your little birdie?" she tried hopefully.
He only smiled. "If you like."
"But wouldn't it have just taken parts of his flesh then?" she questioned. "Or all of him? All things considered, Cole, this thing doesn't seem to have a purpose for anything else, let alone beating an innocent to death."
"Could have altered pattern to throw us off. What seems painfully clear at this point, is that Laurel's somehow at the center of all this. I thought it might be as simple as going back in time to right it, but I doubt it's an option anymore- we won't find what we're looking for there. Her father made deals with the Underworld, Finnish mythology leads us to said Underworld- the Underworld can't be taken off our list."
"So what are you going to do?"
"Well, right now I'm going to take my daughter to school, and make a stop by the office. There's something-"
"On your day off?"
"There's something I need to find," he finished. "It may be nothing, but I'm still going to look. I'll be back in a few hours."
"Have room for one more?"
"Phoebe."
She stood there rather expectantly, small hands tucked carefully away into the pockets of her jeans, clad snuggly in a white spaghetti strap beneath a coral colored hooded sweatshirt, the zipper hanging loose. She'd pulled her curls back from her face into a beige claw clip, her brown eyes quietly and intricately pleading with him, her full lips calmly pursed and awaiting a response. He felt his heart catch at her beauty, as it so often did, his own visage softening considerably at the sight.
"Daddy, I'm ready now!"
Alexandra Turner's voice cut through the brief bout of silence, as he heard her making her way down the stairs, purposely taking each step with a loud thump to make her presence available and known, her small backpack falling to the bottom, as she gave it a random toss. "Okay, sweetheart! Just give me a minute here, okay?"
"I can help with this too, can't I?" Phoebe continued, eagerly pressing him.
"I'm not so sure that's a great idea."
"C'mon, Cole, I'm not going to crack that easily. And if it means doing something good for Laurel, we can't go wrong, right?"
"That's not what I meant."
Her expression grew into a somewhat perturbed frown, obviously not making sense of the situation and accurately understanding him. "Well, then what did you mean?"
"It's not safe, Phoebe."
"What's not safe? The law firm? Cole, I hardly think something's been hiding away in there, just waiting to corner us in broad daylight. It's absurd."
"What's gotten into you?"
"Me?" she countered. "Hello? Have we forgotten the stranger still residing in our home at your request? Ring a bell there, cowboy? The least I can do-"
"The least you can do is let me handle this," he sharply cut her off. "We're dealing with something dangerous here, Phoebe. I don't want you involved right now."
"Why? Laurel already is. Probably more than she wants to be."
"That's different."
"Yeah, and you should know by now that I don't need to be protected. There's very little out there that I haven't already seen."
"You're carrying our child."
"That's the only-"
"You're vulnerable right now."
"And if you're planning on leaving right this very minute, you'll be walking out without any shoes on. Lot of good that's going to do you."
"I-"
"See? This is exactly what I mean. You're so wrapped up in taking care of everything yourself...I just...I- you know, just forget it, okay? I'm sorry I even asked." She bestowed him one last gaze, before she turned on her heel and began to exit the room, immediately heading for the stairwell, her curls bouncing slightly as she walked. "Why the hell did I even try?"
"Phoebe, wait."
"No, just forget it. I was out of line, and I'm sorry."
"Phoebe."
"Hormones," Prue whispered to Paige, as she quickly rolled her eyes, immediately averting her stare to busy herself in the kitchen again, turning on the water to fill up the sink with the dishes that had since accumulated in it, calmly reaching for a fresh towel in the cupboard below.
"I'll say."
"Would you please come back here?!" he called out again, the urgency in his voice raising itself an octave.
"We can talk about this later," she murmured, almost inaudibly.
"What's going on?" Alex asked, concern washing lightly over her delicate features, as she jumped off the last step, her green eyes curiously darting from one parent to the other, her smile cascading into a small frown. Her tiny fingers nonchalantly toyed with a loose thread on her equally petite gray hooded sweater, trying to tug it free.
"Nothing," they both blurted out in unison, before fully realizing it. Cole met Phoebe's cold glance, as she uttered a low sound of annoyance in her throat, quickly gritting her teeth.
"I'd like you to come," he said. "Your sisters can watch the twins and keep an eye on Laurel."
"But you just said-"
"What I don't want to do right now is fight. If you feel you're up to it, I can't hold you back. I can disagree with your decision, but I certainly can't keep you here against your will. You'll stay close to me the entire time. No...wandering out of sight, touching anything. We stick together."
Still not completely convinced, she only tossed him a raised eyebrow, throwing a hand across her heart, as if to swear allegiance to some invisible cause. "Yes, Dad, I promise."
"Oh, I think I'm going to have a nice time making you pay for that." His stunning, unshaven face had already formulated a small smile, despite the apprehension he'd expressed only moments ago.
"Hey, we're still going to talk later," she reminded him, tossing her index finger in his direction, a deep flush already spreading clean across her cheeks.
"I kind of had something else in mind that's been long past due."
"Daddy, are you and Mommy playing jokes on each other or fighting?"
"We're flirting," he told her.
"Flirting? What's that?"
He chuckled, in spite of the situation. "I'm sure your mom will teach you when you're older."
"I feel older now," the little girl added, hopelessly shrugging.
"I know you do, sweetie. So! You ready to go?"
"All set!" she proudly announced. "I remembered those new colored pencils Uncle Andy bought me, too."
"That's great. Do you also remember what I told you about making sure no one steals them?"
She eagerly nodded, waiting patiently until he crouched down to her level, before she leaned over to whisper in his ear. "Use my powers when the teacher isn't looking."
"That's my girl," he whispered back, gently patting her small knee, as she quietly giggled.
"Do I even wanna know?" Phoebe responded, having been out of range with their little exchange, as she gently placed her hands on her hips.
"Did it go okay last night?" Alex asked him.
"What?"
"When you went-"
"We'll discuss that after school, Ally, okay?"
"I was right, wasn't I?"
"After school," he murmured again.
"I'll get a hold of Piper and stay with Laurel, Ben, and Abby," Prue confirmed. "Paige can help me. Right Paige?"
"You seriously want me to devote more of my precious time to that ticking time bomb up there? Two words. No. Thank you."
"That was three."
"Oh, whatever." She threw up her hands in defeat, uttering a loud, aggravated sigh. "What difference does it make? No matter which way I choose to play it, I'm doomed to babysit nothing but children for the rest of my life."
"Laurel's not a child," Cole pointed out. "She's helpless because she can't remember what happened to her yet. It doesn't make her incapable of understanding-"
"And that's my fault? Tell me something, Cole. How do you always manage to get stuck with all the loonies?"
"I think it's that kick me sign still attached to my back."
"Huh?"
"Nevermind. Look, call me if there's any change with her, all right? And check in with Andy at the station- see if he's got anything new on the Wilkinson death."
"Sounding like a regular detective now, aren't you?" Prue offered, smiling. "Work, work, work."
"Well, I've had a lot of practice."
"Are you sure the firm isn't going to be closed out of respect for Derek?" Phoebe spoke up, suddenly factoring in the possibility, as she began to tug a coat over her daughter's miniscule frame, her fingers snapping the buttons together. "Maybe they've shut it down for a few days. We could be wasting a trip."
"That won't stop me from accessing my office though, will it?"
"Well, no, but not everyone has the power to shimmer."
"See, we're always on the same page."
"No, Cole, I think you just skipped ahead an entire chapter."
"Trust me."
"You want his file, don't you? This doesn't have a thing to do with your office. You want Derek's file."
"I'll make a copy. No one will ever have to know it's gone."
"Yeah, and the first person who says that always gets themselves into trouble. It's like the kiss of death."
"At least it's not the angel of death," Prue put in a bit sarcastically, throwing them a quick look.
"And you know how it makes me feel to talk about you kicking air instead of butt," Cole told her, tilting his head toward her, as he provided her with a restless stare.
"I wasn't-"
"You can argue about it all you want. The point is you looked ridiculous doing it, and you'd already made me look bad in front of those Seekers."
"Oh please. As if your reputation was really solid gold before that."
"I like to think so," he deadpanned, as he fished for his car keys in his pocket, quickly digging them out and haphazardly tossing them across the table, just missing the open carton of milk Paige had set there by a good inch. Pulling out a chair, he gently eased himself into it, his fingers clasping the worn pair of sneakers that been neatly tucked underneath, casually slipping them over his crisp white socks. "And we're off."
"I did it," a familiar voice called out, its tone increasingly remorseful and spent from exhaustion. "I did it." They all turned their heads at the plea, and glanced towards the stairwell, as a tear-stricken Laurel Egan managed to find her way to the bottom, her long blonde hair tossed about at odd angles from the nap she'd previously endured, her feet completely bare as they sunk randomly into the carpeting. She appeared entirely oblivious to her disheveled appearance, as she unsteadily made her way to them, her green eyes laced with a single spark of unadulterated fear. "I did it. I remember now."
"Did what?" Cole asked her quietly.
"That man," she whispered.
"You saw a man? Upstairs?"
"I killed that man," she tried again, her voice carrying a persistent edge to it, as she hurriedly cupped her hands around her elbows to stop them from quivering. "I killed him. In that house? I was there, Belthazor. I remember now."
Note: All mythology information comes from here.