faelans_folly | [Open - Irish Coffee]

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[Open - Irish Coffee]

Maggie finished the chalk easel for the front of the cafe, embellishing the announcements of specials with sunny wildflowers and scrolled ivy leaves. As she walked it out to put on the sidewalk in front of the store, she stopped to let the sun warm her face.

It had rained in Faelan's Folly for a week - starting with storms full of thunder and ear-splitting lightning strikes until tapering off to yesterday's lighter clouds and soft soaking rain to last night's light drizzle.

She'd spent most of her off time during the week near the monument, the flat stone just off the park grounds that was, for all intents, the heart of the Folly. There were rumors about it, of course, some of them right on the mark. Not that she'd ever confirm it.

The monument was also where she rechared, reset her magic and reconnected with the elements that bowed to her. At midnight last night, she knew it was time to get back to business, back to herself, and move herself forward.

Maggie pulled water from a nearby puddle, rinsed the chalk from her fingers, and settled in to help her morning regulars get the caffeine they needed to start their day.

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Levi had hoped to lose himself in the morning rush at Irish Coffee, but unfortunately that wasn't the case. Maybe it was because people were wanting to enjoy the clear morning weather and not linger at the cafe or there was some vast conspiracy. Whatever the reason, there weren't nearly enough people there that morning to hide the fact that he was walking a bit oddly.

He would have just avoided his morning ritual all together but that would have been worse. Then Maggie would have worried. Besides, he needed to ask her about the weather they were having lately. So, very gingerly, Levi sat himself down in his usual seat and waited to be brought his usual order.

I often make an impression when I enter a room. At 6 foot 9, I get a lot of looks. A lot of "you're tall" comments. If the people in the room know me I also either get a lot of smiles or a lot of dirty looks. Okay, mostly dirty looks and some smiles.

Today though, I have a feeling it's not my height that's getting the looks. Wherever this is, it's not where I expected to be. When you die, depending on your belief system, there are a lot of ways things can go. Personally, I'm a heaven or hell type fellow. Nothing I've heard of though has the dead person standing in a coffee shop in the middle of the day.

I look down and see my clothing is all the same. Boots, jeans, denim jacket and the t-shirt with the bullet hole surrounded by blood, all of them dripping wet. I don't have to be a detective to know the hole and blood are getting some stares. I am a detective but I probably could have figured this one out on my own.

There are memories pressed in the back of my head, all mixed up like someone took a blender to the "This Is Your Life" book of my past. I remember another city away from home, but this isn't the same place. Somehow, I know that.

Being a detective, I should probably go about finding where I am.

"Hey," I call out. "Can anybody tell me where I am?"

See, I'm a really good detective.

Maggie came out from the kitchen with a tray of fruit and cheese danish fresh from the oven and smiled when she saw Levi'd come in while she was away. "I swear, it's like you have a sixth sense about when these are cooled enough to put in the case. What's tempting you today? Raspberry, strawberry, or cream cheese?"

"Maybe I have people casing the place for me," he said, smiling up at Maggie. He studied her face, trying to see if the cheerful expression she put on was a facade or for real. Levi didn't normally have to read faces to tell how people were doing but he'd known Mags forever.

Maggie'd known for an hour at least that she had someone new arriving, felt the prickle at the back of her neck as the town readied itself or...did whatever it did to pull in a new resident. It also said a lot about the town that not only did her few lingering customers even look up when the guy appeared, most of them just shrugged and went back to their conversations. Just part of life in the Folly, especially if you hug out at Maggie's.

"Come on over," Maggie called and waved, setting the cleaning rag into the skin behind her and wiping her hands on her apron. Then got a good look at the guy. "And please watch your step? I'd hate for you to get road rash from the textured ceiling."

Okay. So. No one wants to answer the big guy with the bullet hole in him. Or in his shirt. Understandable. The girl behind the counter doesn't seem too bothered by my appearance though which means that she's used to weird stuff. That can be good or bad.

She's attractive in that way where you can't pin down if she's more pretty or cute. Part of me instantly suspects a trap, because that's exactly the sort of person I'd send after me to put me at ease. So, still not sure if this is heaven or hell.

"I have a thick head, I'd be more worried about the ceiling," I said as I step over to where she is and sit down. "Don't suppose I can get a Coke?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. Pastry text alerts going out like blizzard warnings?"

She was trying to keep her expression as open and humorous as her voice, but hiding her feelings from Levi took entirely too much effort and, since he only had to look into her to see, it wasn't worth it. The flip side was, she knew him just as well.

"So. Coffee? Tea? Icy Hot?"

"Sit," he said, motioning for her to join him in the seat across from his at the booth. It was a friendly invitation couched in a tone that let her know he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"While I eat one of each, you talk."

Wow, Maggie thought as he came closer. She could feel the air around her all but crackle with magic. Not hers, but magic just the same. It danced on her skin almost as much as it did when she went through the artists colony on the north side.

"The ceiling can take it, but bloodstains are a bitch to get out of plaster," Maggie quipped back. She nodded at his request and opened the bar fridge behind her. When she turned back around she had the bottle, still closed, in one hand and a white cloth in the other. "Would you like me to see to the wound, or would you rather do it yourself?"

There was Coke, so clearly this was heaving, which was a big relief. They even had it in a bottle, so that meant I was in the good heaven or the equivalent of. The fact that I was still hurting, especially where someone apparently shot me, was something I'd have to figure out later. The whole "someone shot me" thing would have to wait until later, although it was definitely at the top of my list of things to look into once I got my location straightened out.

"Actually, I don't think I'm wounded anymore," I said. "It was a through and through so if I was, I'd be bleeding all over the floor. I also wouldn't be standing up. Or breathing. Mostly just bleeding."

She put his danish on a plate and brought them over with his coffee, then settled across from him when her mug joined her. "Me? I'm not the one sitting there looking like he got hit by a bus on the way in," she hedged, trying to push the conversation back onto him.

Levi picked up the danish and took a bite, looking her in the eye as he did so. If they wanted to talk about how he was walking funny they could do that after she talked about whatever was bothering her. He took a sip of his coffee and ate another bite, all the while keeping eye contact with her. He could wait.

Maggie pressed her lips together. It wasn't the first time someone had arrived bleeding, or broken, or any of a dozen potentially fatal incidents. She just continually thanked her forebears that the cross into the town brought her only what she could handle, and healed what it could of those injured, leaving only the superficial wounds behind.

"Would you mind if I checked anyway? The transition takes care of most injuries, but I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't make certain a simple wound didn't turn nasty."

I eyed her skeptically. She clearly knew what was going on and while I appreciated her concern for my well being, I'd really rather know where I was. Normally I'd threaten or growl or do something equally stupid, but I just didn't have the energy. After all I'd been through, the least of which was getting shot, I didn't have the energy to put up a fight.

Plus, she controlled the flow of Coke. She was Arrakis.

"Alright, knock yourself out," I said with a shrug.

Maggie kept up the staring contest for at least a full minute before she slumped back against the booth. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

Maggie nodded and stepped around the counter, cloth in hand to stand at his back. "While you strip out of the jacket and shirt, I'll give you a little background on where you are, deal?" She didn't wait for an answer. "You're in a town, well, city now, I suppose, called Faelan's Folly. Most of us who've been around awhile just call it Folly, or the Folly. A few, I've heard, refer to it more as 'this fucking town' but I don't take offense. Call it whatever you wish." Maggie went on to give him the rest - how he was pulled from wherever he'd been and that they existed apart from the world he'd come from, and everything else that went along with it.

When she was finished and starting to look over the wounds, she paused. "Any questions?"

"Why's the weather so lousy?" he asked, taking another bite. Once she was resigned to talk, his expression softened, the worry obvious. Maggie was too important to him to let this go. Especially since when Maggie had a rough time of things... it was generally a really rough time.

I eyed her for a moment, trying to determine if this was some sort of ambush. If it was, I was just as susceptible to it bare chested as I was standing here with a bloody shirt and holy jacket. Of course, I was still going to get topless in the middle of a coffee shop, so that was kind of weird.

Eventually I shrugged and peeled off the wet jacket and shirt as I mulled over what she had said. It sounded a lot like the City, which was both terrifying and a relief. I had done what I set out to do. Everyone was safe. Safe-ish. Everyone except- No. Not going to think about that now. Right now I need to prioritize.

"How did this place come to be like this?"

"The weather isn't lousy," Maggie countered, turning to look at the sunlight shining through the front windows and making the grass of the square look a bright, vibrant green. She knew, though, that it was just prolonging the inevitable. "It wasn't the best week for me, and since I can't be morose to the residents, I let the weather do it for me. But I'm better now, back to my old self and nothing to worry about, okay?"

"But I'm still worried," he said, reaching out to put a hand on top of hers. He knew that Maggie didn't have many friends, at least not ones that could look past the 'everything is okay' routine that she was displaying. That made it even more important for him to not let this go.

"So talk to me about what it was."

So. The chest was just as impressive as the rest of him. Good to know. She actually had to stifle a giggle when she touched just outside the raw edges of the wound with her fingertips, even on the stool he was taller than she was standing up.

"Another popular debate topic." Maggie placed the cloth over the wound to his back when she felt nothing foreign or malignant there, pulling moisture from the air to mix with the healing herbs she'd soaked into the cloth before letting it dry. "The short version is that the town was under attack, generations ago and somehow the town was removed from the threat. In the process, it was also removed from everything else. If you want the mechanics of how it was done, I can't help you there."

She came around to stand in front of him, and searched the front wound as well, pressing the wet cloth there as well. "It's almost like magic," she smirked, tongue in cheek.

Her voice dropped and her eyes focused on the mug in front of her. "You know what it was. I told you about breaking my own rule. There was a reason I made it, and I got a reminder about the purpose behind that rule. Sad, yes, but there's nothing to do but go on from here and accept what is. And it's all for the best, really. Donnelly's aren't the best bet for anyone to hang around for long. You being the exception to that, of course."

She had a vague hope that he'd leave it there, but something told her he wouldn't.

I could feel some sort of magic working and my skin prickled with goosebumps. Unfortunately, I'm too tired to care or do anything about it. I'm fairly certain that it's not bad magic though, or maybe I'm just being hopeful. I'm a regular Suzie Sunshine since my death, apparently. How lucky for me.

I do want the mechanics of how it works, but apparently I'll have to look somewhere else for that answer. First things first though, she seemed to know I'm a wizard, which is interesting. Then again, she didn't seem all that surprised by my appearance and she lives in a place that clearly believes in magic. So she's either crazy, or she knows about real magic. She could also be crazy AND know about real magic though.

"Next are you going to ask me to pick a card, any card?"

Maggie laughed, pretty sure this one was, no matter what state he'd arrived in, not someone she'd have to speak to her preternatuals about. "Nope, and I don't have a top hat filled with hidden white rabbits. Though I should caution, if you're the type that thinks sawing a woman in half is a fun past time, without the magic box, there are a few in the city that know how to handle those of ill intent."

She looked up at him with a sparkle in her blue eyes. "So that leaves me to ask if you're a good witch or a bad one?"

"It's just too messy without the box," I said, realizing that it sounds kind of gruesome. Wizard humor can tend to be a bit dark. Okay, maybe that's just my humor but since I'm representative of the wizards as a whole from my world I get to make the sweeping generalizations.'

Her question though isn't as easy to answer as it once was. I've done some bad things, some really bad things, especially recently. Can I still call myself good after everything I just did? At the end of the day, I did what had to be done to save, well, a lot of people but my stake in it had been personal. I wouldn't sleep well for a long time but was I bad? Was I evil?

"I'm a wizard who is far, far too tired and hungry to cause any trouble. Besides, you're far too cute to not be really, really scary when you need to be."

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