The tea was tepid and sugared enough to intoxicate honey. Mrs Bellatrix called it her house blend. I am doubtful if any tea leaves ever touched this abomination.
I sipped the air in the cup and smiled.
"It's an utterly dreadful, dreadful, oh so dreadful a situation," Lady M (We don't say her name) moaned. "How is one supposed to have any peace with all the screaming!" She produced a decayed handkerchief and dabbed. It's been two weeks since I first met Lady M, but I still fix my eyes on her plush velveteen gloves; it is all I dare to see.
"There, there, Lady M," Mrs Bellatrix cooed matronly, like that spinster of an English teacher that was ever so generous with her beatings. "I have called on a favour from a friend. He will be arriving soon."
"But," Lady M gasped. "I am not proper!" The bell chimed, and Mrs Bellatrix clapped her hands. There was a flurry of motion from the armchair across me.
"Go on," a tall man with short-cropped blonde hair said from beyond the doorway, carrying an oversized bag. He wore a grey waistcoat and a faded pink tee that was probably two sizes too small for his biceps. Just behind him stood an unwashed boy, perhaps eight or nine years old. He smoothed out the crinkles, wiping some grime off his clothes. From the dirt in his hair, it was clear he has been sleeping on the streets for a while.
"Aleks, how wonderful of you to visit," Mrs Bellatrix clapped her hands and gave him a sputtering of air kisses, "And who might this little master be?"
"Zed," Aleks waved to me and sat down in the armchair. He exhaled with relief as the chair creaked in protest. I shrunk back into mine with a terrible shudder. "He has been a little busy these few weeks, haven't you, Zed?" The boy looked at him; his eyes widened in horror, and he backed away.
"Aleks..."
"What?" He said. The room was deathly quiet for a moment.
"Oh shit!" Aleks leapt from the chair, sending a cascade of trays, cups and teaspoons upwards, spilling almost everything everywhere at the same time. It was a secret joy to watch Aleks in motion; if only I were able to harness his potential for chaos for my studies.
"Who is there!?"
"Uncouth ruffian! You disgraced a lady!" Lady M shrieked, flailing her handkerchief and purse. "How dare you! How very dare you!" The lights flickered violently, the room awash in a tensed chill. Then, as quickly as it came, it was gone. As was Lady M.
"She'll be in a bad mood for a while to come," I picked up the china from the carpet and set them back on the table. I can't do anything about the stains on it, though they weren't the first. Nor will they be the last.
Mrs Bellatrix sighed. "Aleks, for one with your talent, you are not good at Seeing, are you?"
"Please tell me I'm not haunted!" The squeak he gave was adorable. "Whoever you are, please forgive me! I did not see you there!"
Glassware broke somewhere in the kitchen. Mrs Bellatrix gave a tired smile.
"Your client, Aleks. That was your client."
"What?"
Another smash.
"Lady-"
"Excuse me," Zed pointed to the now-empty seat. "Was.. was that a ghost?"
"No!" Aleks wailed.
Mrs Bellatrix handed a cup and saucer to the boy and filled it with lukewarm tea. Zed took an apprehensive step, took the offering and then sat down.
"That is Lady M. We don't say her name. And yes, she's not quite alive."
"How do you talk to her like that?" Zed said, sipping that tea. He likely saw what I saw - a moving corpse crawling with maggots, dressed in a worm-eaten evening gown, nodding and swaying her head with an eyeball dangling out of the socket. I did a bit of reading on her after our introduction: the poor girl was hung from a tree somewhere down the road.
Mrs Bellatrix placed a hand on Zed's shoulder.
"Our minds are ever quite queer, my dear boy. What we see is clouded by what we think we know. What did you see?"
"A.. zombie that's like..." Zed shuddered. Aleks squeaked again.
Mrs Bellatrix smiled warmly. "She's dead, yes. But that is why I have tea with my guests. And she is my guest. Over time, I get to know them as a person, to know what they think they know of themselves. I want to see them for who they are. Lady M," another triumphant smash from the kitchen, "Is quite the beauty if you get to know her well."
Zed sat thoughtfully. He then looked into Mrs Bellatrix's eyes and said, "But that means you see them as dead people for a long time before they become people?"
Mrs Bellatrix settled back into her chair.
"That I do, Zed. That, I do."
"Hang on," Aleks looked towards the kitchen. "Is she going to like... curse me or something?"
The matron chuckled. "No. She will not, although she will be upset for a while. Come now, tell me your stories."
"I'll stand now if you don't mind," Aleks said and stood behind Zed, hands before him, making the biceps bulge even more. One could almost hear the fabric stretch.
"Zed? Don't you have something to say?"
The boy looked into his cup.
"Sorry."
Mrs Bellatrix placed a hand on the boy. "We are here to help Zed. And to do so, we need to know what you did."
"I only wanted to help too."
"Quintus, I supposed you want to take a look at this too," Aleks said and retrieved a Tupperware from his bag. Within clattered a mess of ice-cream sticks. He handed it to me. "It doesn't bite, but it might fidget a little."
I lifted the lid gingerly. An ice-cream stick amalgam stretched, explored the edges of the Tupperware with its many legs, before tumbling out clumsily onto my lap. I watched it for a moment, feeling it purr with contentment. Using the Tupperware lid, I flipped the little guy over, watch it wriggle into a new configuration before dropping it back into the Tupperware.
"That's High stuff, not something I would want to mess with." I look at Zed. "Did you do that?"
Zed nodded
"Can you dispel it?" Aleks ask.
"I could, but not before knowing what was done. Might unleash something else."
"Urgh..."
"Right."
"So Zed," Mrs Bellatrix said, "let's hear your story."
"I mean, it is sad to see them thrown away. They are like candles, still burning. And then they are thrown away."
"What do you mean?"
"Tissue papers," Aleks said and took out a Ziploc bag of used tissue paper from the pack. Mrs Bellatrix grimaced.
"That's.. filthy."
"But they are not just tissue paper!" Zed was indignant. There was a tiny flash from his fingers. This boy was special. And potentially very dangerous.
"What do they hold, Zed," I handed him the clacking Tupperware. He opened it and coaxed the ice-cream stick amalgam out, watching it clamber and slip all over his arm.
"Grandpa used to say that we tear a little of our souls every time we sneeze. That's why people say 'Bless You'"
"That's a bit morbid," Mrs Bellatrix said. Aleks merely watched me intently as I leaned in.
"Yea... But he said it because of all these little tears that we get to grow bigger and stronger."
"These are not ordinary tissue papers, are they, Zed?" I love to be correct, but sometimes, I wish I was not.
He nodded.
"What do they hold?"
"Dreams ..."
I accidentally hissed.
"Wait, What does that mean? Quintus?"
"It's a bit theoretical, but it develops upon the idea that the imagination is strong enough to manifest some... things. Dreams, at least the dreams that we all have, like growing up to be a doctor, being a lawyer, those dreams, are imaginations that crystallise over a long time. We are talking about those dreams, aren't we Zed?"
He nodded. There was a tiny spark on his fingertips again. The ice-cream stick crab decided to perch on his shoulder. It seems to know its maker.
"Did Zed use Creation?" Aleks asked.
"Something close, I think. It is High stuff. Beyond my abilities," I said. And therein lies the problem. The city might have more than a dozen of these creations running amok, and there needs to be a strategy to corral them and, sadly, destroy them.
"Right, before we continue," Mrs Bellatrix said, "Let's have something to eat, I say. Zed looks famished. You would like some lunch, wouldn't you, Zed?" The boy looked askance.
"Can I?"
"A polite boy too! Wonderful! Tell you what; there are some spare clothing your size upstairs in the bedroom to the left. Have a bath and change. Make yourself comfortable. I'll get lunch ready." Mrs Bellatrix got up and gently ushered Zed towards the stairs. Aleks watched them go and then turned back to me with a look of fear.
"Is.. is she there?"
"Seat's empty, Aleks," I confirmed. Lady M had ceased her tantrums, and her blue velveteen gloves were on the door sill to the kitchen, listening intently to what Zed was saying.
"So, what happened?"
"You've heard of the death?"
Lady M gasped.
"Woman down by the grocery store? Mother of two? They said it was a heart attack."
Aleks shuddered. "They made me..."
"I thought you don't do that anymore?"
"For a good reason! It always feels like they suck you in. The cold. That cold is unlike..."
"What does he mean?" Lady M asked. She had taken Mrs Bellatrix's seat, and her gloved hands placed upon her lap. I could see skin returning to her arms, but not much beyond that.
"Lady M, this is my friend, Aleks. He is a Technourgimage."
"Ah! Is... is she there?"
"And he is afraid of ghosts, unfortunately."
Lady M scoffed. "Tell Mr Aleks that he is uncouth, and I am not talking to him."
"Aleks, Lady M is not talking to you. Lady M, Aleks' ability allows him to witness events seen through the eyes of artefacts or paintings. Usually, that's what he allows himself to see. At times though, he might be asked to look upon a dead person."
Aleks shook his head. "I don't do that anymore. It's too..."
"Hideous..." Lady M muttered. "Well, at least he knows her embrace." She straightened; colour was seeping back into her dress, holes were slowly sewn back together, and her withered sleeves blossomed into white lacy frills. "What has this got to do with the screamings?"
"We believe the screaming that you and your friends constantly hear are night terrors that people are experiencing these days. And we worry that this might be a relapse of the rather unpleasant incident a few years ago."
"Oh, the Sleeping Incident?" Lady M hmmed. "Martha spoke of that briefly. We were quite unaware of it."
"Indeed. We had quite some people trapped in a dreaming state, unable to wake. Which was why we felt we needed to investigate this quickly, and Aleks seemed to have found the cause."
"By looking through dead people's eyes?"
"I don't think he looks through their eyes, although some might want him to..."
"Oh heck no! I don't do dead bodies anymore. That's too..." Aleks shivered.
"She's a ceramic figurine collector. Dogs, cats, angels. All over the place. Got those sewing patterns too. Plenty of eyes on her when it came." Aleks pulled out a piece of cardboard cut into the rough shape of an owl with the head of a toucan. That's another ability of his - to carry half a warehouse of items despite not being able to drive. I have no idea how he manages that on public transport. The cardboard owl-toucan had a hole ripped through its torso where once cable ties secured it to a fence. Its hands and feet were stained with blood. And therein is Alek's last ability - getting items out of police evidence lockups.
The owl-toucan art piece was spent, its edges buzzed with its last flecks of life. A sense of longing and regret lingered with a slight thrill and satisfaction. On its back, scrawled in crayon untouched by the rain and blood, "Henry, aged 7" proclaimed this murder weapon to be his great work.
I sighed. This was not going to be easy. Zed was more than I thought.
"How did it happen?"
"That thing just hugged her. Like, a long lost child." Aleks said and sniffed at Zed's cup of tea. He took a sip, made a face and set it down. "The blood was after the fact when she was vomiting gallons of it."
"Poor children," Lady M moaned.
"They were not at home when that happened. It was night, though, so I am not sure where they were. She was most definitely struggling in her sleep and having night terrors,"
"The screams can get so loud..."
"Can't say I've heard it since I can only see."
"Aleks..."
He looked at me and then froze. His hands began shaking. Without thinking, I smooshed my hat onto his face. There was a surprised grunt and a yelp from Lady M, but Aleks stopped trembling. Aleks held the hat to his face. That damn tea. I always suspected Mrs Bellatrix spiked it.
"Oh?"
"I felt that it would be improper for him to See you, Lady M."
"Oh... Oh. Yes. Quite so. Thank you, Mr Quintus."
"I can't breathe, Quin..."
"Use your mouth."
"But..." Lady M mused. "What has this child's drawing to do with the young boy?"
"And what about the tissue paper?" Aleks adjusted the hat to cover just his eyes.
"I suspect the Dreams he collected were fragments of power. I am unsure why he thought to imbue them into these drawings, though. We will need to ask him".
"They felt the same..." Zed said, slowly walking down the stairs. He splashed some water on his face and changed his shirt. His hair was still tousled with grime and bits of leaf. But, most admirably, he was looking directly at Lady M without a quiver.
"What do you mean," she asked.
"I... I don't know. It's like, that bird, this thing," he pointed to the ice-cream stick crab that had now settled in his hair, "they felt big enough to hold the dreams."
"What?"
"Hope is a powerful thing, isn't it, Zed?" Mrs Bellatrix emerged from the kitchen with a couple of plates rattling on a tray. Fresh cake and cookies set atop them, smelling wondrous and inviting. Still not touching them. "The hope of children is even more powerful. Am I right, Quintus?"
Zed shrugged and stood beside Aleks, looking quizzically at the hat-on-the-face.
"Using children's artworks as a vessel for Creation magicks?" I scratched my head. "That's more of a miracle and not quite in my wheelhouse, unfortunately."
"I'm so lost," Lady M moaned. "So, we won't be able to have our picnics without the screaming again?"
"What's our next step, Quin?"
I took a deep breath.
"We go hunting."