To my left, two people stood off by themselves. A woman who apparently was staff tossed a ball back and forth with a large, ungainly man. The woman had her back to me, her dark hair falling loosely and brushing the collar of a simple white T-shirt on her petite frame. The misshapen elf-like man with her wore a sloppy gray sweatshirt and worn cotton workman's pants. His head was as smooth as an eggshell. I recognized him from the photograph in his mother's living room. Corcan Sidhe ran wildly, clutching clumsily after the ball. A huge grin broke on his face when he caught it and threw it back.
The woman laughed as she caught it, turning enough to the side for me to catch a glimpse of her face. I had one of those strange moments when I'm surprised but not surprised at the same time. I strolled over. "Hello, Shay."
Shay looked at me, the smile on his face dying instantly. He tossed the ball hard over Corcan's head, and the big man lumbered after it. Shay crossed his arms across his chest. "Couldn't this wait until I got home?"
"I didn't know you worked here."
"I volunteer. And you could have asked the goon who's been following me all week." He gestured toward the side street visible between two buildings. Bar Murdock's pasty Honda sat at the curb across the street.
I glanced over at Corcan. He rustled through the bushes like some mysterious beast in a jungle film. I could see the ball on the other side, but he had not figured out where it was yet. "Let's talk."
We crossed to a nearby bench and sat down. In the midst of his search, Corcan became distracted by a butterfly and chased after it. "What are you doing here, Shay?"
"I just told you, I volunteer." I could tell by the anger that swept across Shay's face that I was having trouble hiding my skepticism. "What? You think because men pay me to take off my clothes I don't care about things like this?"
"You have to admit, Shay, the hooker with a heart of gold is kind of cliché."
He stared intently at me. "Let me ask you something, Connor. If you met me here first and found out what I do at night later, would you think of me as a charity volunteer who occasionally gets paid to satisfy someone's sexual needs or would you think of me simply as a prostitute?"
I shrugged. "Fine. You're more than a prostitute. I get the point."
"No, you don't. If a civic leader is exposed as a John, would you think of him as simply a John or does he remain a civic leader?"
I sighed and looked over at Corcan. He found the ball and was making his way back to us. "A civic leader."
"Then you can shove your surprise, and your clichés."
He did have a point. People who operate on the fringes of society do get perceived as nothing more than what they do. It's easier to forget that a drug dealer has a family or that a prostitute has a life. It doesn't always make them better people, but it reminds you that they are people.
"I really am sorry about Robin, Shay." And I was. We had hardly met under the most congenial circumstances, but he was just a kid.
Shay's anger subsided a bit. "Thanks. He didn't have many friends. I had him cremated on Saturday."
"Shay, I have to ask you, the day Murdock and I came by to ask Robin to help, you two were arguing. Why?"
Shay shifted uncomfortably on the bench. "We had a complicated relationship. Robin thought I was leaving him."
"Were you?"
"No!" he said forcefully. "He only thought that because… because there's something wrong with me. I have blackouts. He thinks — thought — I was lying to cover up an affair."
"Have you seen a doctor?"
He gave me an exasperated look. "I don't exactly have insurance, Connor. The episodes started the end of last year and have been worse recendy. I'm hoping they'll just go away. I don't have much other choice."
I can imagine how he felt. At least the Guild still picked up the tab on my health care. I couldn't afford it otherwise. "I'm sorry. You have a lot going on."
He shrugged. "Yeah, well, life does that to you."
Corcan came running back. From a few feet away, he tossed the ball, and it dribbled to our feet. Shay picked it up and tossed it again. Corcan didn't turn, but looked at me curiously. "Is this a new friend, Shay-shay?"
Shay took a long moment before deciding to answer him. "Say hello to Connor, Corky."
The big man trotted forward and extended a big meaty hand. I fought the desire to pull away, not wanting to touch him. I did shake his hand though, inhaling so sharply my nostrils must have closed. I still couldn't smell a damned thing. "Hello, Connor. Are you taking us to the Castle?" He spoke as though his tongue were too thick for his mouth.
"No, Corky," said Shay. "I told you that's the day after tomorrow. Two more days. Go get the ball, honey." He ambled off like a big bald retriever.
"We're going to watch the Midsummer fireworks from Castle Island," Shay said.
"How long have you known him?"
"Since last summer. He's afraid of most people, but he likes me. The staff thinks it's because I'm male but look female. On a certain level, he relates his own condition to me."
"He looks a lot like the police sketch you helped develop."
Shay's chin shrank back in surprise. He watched Corky running around for a moment before answering. "No. He doesn't. Connor, look at that group of kids over there." He pointed over my shoulder to a small group holding hands and dancing. They all had vaguely similar features that marked them with Down's syndrome.
I looked back at Shay. "Your point?"
"Now, without looking back, tell me their ages and how they look different from each other."
I didn't speak. The urge to look again was compelling.
"Let me help you," said Shay. "At a glance, only three of those kids have Down's, though I'm betting you think they all do. Two of them have a different genetic physical retardation. Their ages range over fifteen years. One of the two with thick sideburns is actually female. Now, before I knock you over the head, what the hell do you think you're implying about Corky?"
I'll give this to Shay. I had a foot and half in height and more than fifty pounds in weight on him, and the kid still had the balls to threaten me physically. It didn't mean I was amused. "Look, Shay, the only thing keeping you out of jail at this point is the fact that I haven't put in a call to Murdock, so knock off the attitude. Now, tell me about the pentagrams." He crossed his arms again and threw himself back against the bench.
He looked at me suspiciously. "Corky's pentagrams? They're for meditation." He considered for a moment and nodded. "I added them one at a time. The first one was about a month ago." A chalky pallor swept over his face. "Oh my God, Connor! It's not what you think."
"What do I think?"
"Corky wouldn't hurt anyone. I just showed him how to calm himself when he was upset. I don't have any fey ability — I couldn't even get aromatherapy to work on Robin. Corky doesn't even go out at night! He's afraid of the dark!"
"You might have activated something, Shay. Cross-species children have all kinds of mutations. You might not have been calming him."
Shay's hands flew to his mouth as tears sprang to his eyes. "No. It can't be. Tell me Robin isn't dead because of me!"
I couldn't help myself. I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder to reassure him. "I'm not going to lie to you, Shay. I don't know."
"What's the matter, Shay-shay?" Corky said, popping up in front of us. His face looked stricken.
Shay brushed the tears off his own face. "It's nothing, Corky. Something got in my eyes."
The big man grabbed his hand. "Let's go to the Castle. That will make your eyes better."
Shay forced himself to smile. "Thursday. We'll go then. Okay, Cork?"
Corky pouted. "Okay."
He let Corky pull him off the bench, and as Corky led him away, Shay looked back at me, hurt and confusion flickering in his eyes. Back on Ninth Street, I slipped into a cab and asked the driver to take me to Avalon Memorial. Fresh cash in my pocket tended to make me lazy. I had to see Gillen Yor. If anyone knew the effects a mixed essence had on spells, he would. I had to agree with Shay, though. Something as simple as meditation could not possibly go that haywire.