Freya took a day off work today so that she could go wedding dress shopping with Kara. I understand that they did this on a weekday rather than a weekend so that Kara wouldn’t have to have her mother along.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love the woman,” Kara told Freya, “but she has no sense of style whatsoever. Lady thinks we still in the eighties or something.”
“And you’d rather not have a big-hair and shoulder pad wedding?”
“I would not.”
Freya laughed. “Well, we’ll find you something great.”
But her laughter broke off the moment she set foot into the shop. She could tell, right away, that something was wrong.
I wasn’t with her at the time—Eburnean was on duty, and it is from them that I have this much of the story. The moment that Freya’s smile vanished, however, they summoned me, and I arrived in time to feel the chill in the air.
“What’s wrong?” Kara asked, stopping to look back at Freya.
She was standing in the foyer of the shop, tense and chilled. No sooner had I taken my place behind Freya, though, than the chill eased, and she took a breath. “Nothing. Sorry, I’m just out of it, I guess.”
She followed Kara inside, trying to convince herself that she had imagined the sense that there was something awful in the shop, something waiting for her. But she hadn’t, for I too could sense the unmistakable presence of a Fallen.
“She felt it before I did,” Eburnean murmured to me. “She’s all the more sensitive every day.”
What could I say to that?
I swept the whole shop, but the creature had fled the moment I arrived. Still, its influence remained, and I didn’t feel secure leaving Freya on her own. I knew that a trap had been laid, and it wasn’t long before it closed around her.
It was a small shop, and Kara was there because she had been there shopping with another friend the year before and had remembered they had a good selection and excellent service. There was another bridal party at the station next to where Kara and Freya were settled, and even Kara could tell that things were not going well with this party. The young bride was looking petulant, while her mother sat half-turned away and looking sulky, while the maid of honor had a sharp smile. There was a thick atmosphere of resentment around them all.
“See, that’s the kind of thing I wanted to avoid by not having Mom here,” Kara muttered to Freya as she was trying on her first dress.
Freya didn’t answer, because she thought that there may have been more to the matter. She was right to think so, for I could see the Fallen’s influence over the party. I resolved to do my best to keep the two groups separated, but no sooner had Kara come back out to look at herself than the trouble started.
“You shouldn’t take that one,” the bride’s mother said, giving Kara a sidelong glance. “It makes you look all square and bony.”
Kara, who at first glance had rather liked the dress, bristled. “Did I ask?” she said.
“Just trying to help,” the woman sniffed, flipping a page of the magazine in her lap.
“Oh, yeah, you’re a lot of help,” her daughter snapped, pulling off the dress she was wearing. “This is no good. I wanted something elegant.” She dropped the dress on the floor and turned to look at Kara. Her face lit with greed. “Like that, actually. Do you have another sample of that dress?”
“I’m sorry, but it’s the only one we have on hand,” the sales woman explained.
The bride put her hands on her hips and studied Kara. “Take that off and give it to me,” she said. “It doesn’t look good on you.”
Kara laughed in disbelief. “I know this is going to be hard for you to believe, hon, but I don’t actually give a fuck what you think. And I kind of like it, don’t you, Frey?”
“Don’t make this worse,” I whispered to Kara. “Please.”
“It’s nice, but it’s not the one, Kara,” Freya answered.
“Right, so take it off,” the bride said, and she stepped onto the platform and reached for Kara.
Kara stepped back, throwing up her hands. “You better back off or there’s gonna be some red on this dress.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Ladies, please,” the sales woman pleaded.
“Take it off!” the bride demanded.
“Stop it now!” Freya snapped, stepping between the two women. I had been on the point of doing exactly the same, but she was quicker. “There is absolutely no need for this. We will be happy to let you try on the dress if you will just have a little bit of patience.” She spoke firmly, but not without kindness, and it disarmed the woman’s anger.
Following Freya’s cue, I put one wing around the bride and could see tensions built up in her heart, doubts and stresses and fears that have worn her almost to a thread. “This is a time for joy,” I whispered to her. “You don’t deserve your anger, and neither does Kara.”
Some of the chill began to seep out of the bride’s heart. She gave a curt nod and turned back to her own party.
“If you think I’m giving this dress to that spoiled brat,” Kara began, in a voice that was a little bit too loud.
“Oh, come on,” Freya said, turning to her friend with a smile. “If you weren’t mad that she was rude then you wouldn’t care about this dress. Take a good look. It’s nice, yes, but it’s not you.”
Kara looked at herself for a long moment, flanked by me and Freya. With the calming influence from both of us, she admitted reluctantly, “Yeah, all right.”
And so she went off to take off the dress, and it was passed to the other bride, who loved it immediately. Even her mother and her maid of honor softened at the sight of her wearing it. It did suit her much better than it suited Kara.
She was in such a kinder mood by the time she’d put her own clothes back on that she paused beside Kara’s station. “That one looks beautiful,” she told Kara, a little stiffly.
“Thanks,” Kara said, also a little stiffly. But it was far better than before.
When they were gone, Kara said to Freya, “Kinda surprised me there, you know. I would’ve thought you’d want to cut that bitch as much as I did.”
“Are you offended that I didn’t?”
“Maybe a bit.”
Freya laughed. “Trust me, if it had come to throwing hands, she would have caught it from me. But I don’t know, I just figured that it wasn’t really about us.”
“What was it about, then?”
Freya frowned, and I could see that she was on the point of telling Kara what she had felt—that something cold and wicked had been there before them, and that when it couldn’t strike at Freya through her bright shadow, it took out its anger on Kara and the other bride. Which, while not quite correct, would have been very close to the truth.
But then she only shrugged and said, “Weddings are stressful in the best of times, and I got the feeling that she wasn’t as smart as you to keep her mom out of it.”
Kara agreed with that, and they passed the rest of the excursion in better cheer. I should have left then, but I lingered, trying to sort through Freya’s feelings. Why hadn’t she confided in her best friend? She’d spoken to George about me before.
I hoped that it was just that she worried about Kara’s reaction, and that is a part of it, I think. But a larger part of it is that Freya does not want to share the secret of me with anyone yet. It is precious to her, something to wonder and amaze, and she wants to hold it close to her heart.
While that thought warms my own heart, it also worries me. I am isolating her, and that cannot be good for her.
The important thing is that she is safe, and I have a new lead to follow. I must go and see if I can catch the trail of the Fallen who left the trap. Perhaps it will have some new intel about our enemy.