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Scowling, he shook his head. "White bread—white bread without flavor keeping the status quo. That's pretty much what this place is all about. I've no doubt they have qualified professionals on staff, but I also have the feeling they strive for conformity over happiness."
I looked around. There were several sitting areas, some of which had patients watching television or doing needlework. Some were just staring into space. A curving staircase, when I peeked up at the grand ceiling, led to a second floor, which looked like it held more of the professional offices.
From where we stood, it wasn't clear where the patients were housed, but logic would argue that the residence halls were in the back where the guests wouldn't immediately see them. That way if someone got out of hand, it wouldn't disrupt visitors or the placid, serene facade with which they'd plastered the entire institution.
The checkin area had a blush-colored marble countertop and the sign-in book was manned by a silver pen on a chain. The only disparity that reminded me we weren't registering at the Hilton was the bulletproof glass that encased the front desk. As we approached, the pink-clad receptionist jumped up and met us at the counter with a brilliant smile.
"I'm Nurse Richards. May I help you?"
"I'm here to see Benjamin Welter. My name is Camille… Welter, and this is my fiance, Morio Kuroyama." I assumed a harried air that said, "I'm important, don't bother me with questions, just put me through right away."
As I was expecting, she said graciously, "May I see some identification?"
I cleared my throat and glanced around. Nobody else was paying attention. I pulled off my sunglasses and lowered my masks, allowing my glamour to shine through full-force.
Leaning in, I said, "You really don't need to see my identification. You know I'm who I say I am. And you know that I'm safe and won't hurt anybody here. Don't you?"
Either Nurse Richards didn't think for herself much, or she wasn't the brightest bulb in the socket, because her smile faded for just a second, then returned twice as wide. "Of course, Ms. Welter. You're safe and you won't hurt anybody. Nice to meet you and your fiance. Congratulations on your engagement. If you'll sign in and then follow me, I'll take you to see Benjamin."
I winked at her, and she giggled. As I signed in and handed the pen to Morio, I thought about how easy some people were to charm. Those with the strongest resistance weren't the most suspicious, actually, even though it seemed logical they would be. No, I'd found that the most difficult people to charm were the cold, aloof types who registered high in intelligence.
After signing the guest book, she called to one of her assistants to watch the front desk, then led us down the hall, where she turned left. "He lives in our long-term care residence hall. This way, please."
We left the building through a back security door manned by two burly looking guards, albeit with pleasant smiles and the ever-present pink uniforms. She led us across a covered courtyard where wrought-iron benches provided a place to sit and soak up the sun or fresh air, even on a drizzly day. I steered clear of them. Though they had wooden slats for seats, one slip, and I could end up with a nasty burn.
The brickwork was laid out in patterns, several of which I recognized as Celtic knotwork, and here and there, a square of flowers brightened the otherwise terra-cotta color scheme. Daffodils and crocuses were on the menu now, along with primroses and pansies that had been recently planted in the freshly tilled soil. Across the courtyard stood a five-story building, and connected by another sheltered overpass, a two-story residence hall.
"Benjamin has been such a good patient," Nurse Richards said. "He's never any bother, except when you try to talk directly to him. A word of warning, if you haven't seen your cousin for awhile. If you say something to the wall, or to an inanimate object, such as, 'It's time for Benjamin to eat dinner,' he'll pay attention and follow you to the dining hall. But if you look at him directly and say it to his face, he's likely to go into a screaming fit. So try to never talk directly to him while you're here. He doesn't mind if people sit near him, but don't touch him."
I nodded, filing away the information. We had no shortage of mentally unstable beings in Otherworld. Thank the gods, our shamans could treat some of the mild to moderate cases through soul mending and other techniques, but the truly lost causes were usually allowed to wander without restraint as long as they didn't hurt anybody.
In a number of villages, they were watched over by everybody, fed when they were hungry, given shelter in barns and outbuildings when the weather grew cold. If they became a danger to themselves, they were kept under watch. If they became a danger to others, they were destroyed.
"There he is—he's taking some air today," the nurse said, pointing to a man sitting on the grass, staring at the sky. He was alone, although I noticed a couple attendants policing the grounds nearby. Benjamin seemed to be perfectly content.
As we walked up to the blue-jeaned young man. Nurse Richards started talking loud enough for him to hear. "My oh my, isn't it nice that Benjamin's cousin has come to visit him? She might want to sit down over there near the oak tree—there's a little bench there—and just enjoy the fresh air." She gave me a meaningful nod, and I headed toward the bench, gritting my teeth. I'd have to make certain no exposed skin hit the armrests or the rivets that decorated the wooden slats.
As I gingerly sat down, I gave Benjamin a quick glance, then looked away. He was watching me, a curious light in his eyes. When he saw Morio, he looked confused, then gawked at him. The nurse excused herself. She stopped by one of the attendants, pointed toward us, then headed back to the main building. The attendant kept an eye our way but didn't come any closer.
After a moment, Benjamin spoke so softly that if I'd been human, I wouldn't have heard him at all. "Mr. Fox looks different today. I guess this is Mr. Fox's girlfriend?"
Morio started. "Benjamin knows who I am?"
"Of course," Benjamin said. "I can always spot shape-shifters when they're disguised as human. But I can't figure out why she's posing as my cousin, or who she is. She's not a shifter, but she's not a regular woman, either."
I flickered a quick look at Morio, who gave me a quiet nod. "My name is Camille, and I need to speak to Benjamin about the cave and the amethyst gem he told Mr. Fox about. A lot of people's lives ride on this. Benjamin could make a big difference in helping us save the world—"
The word had barely escaped my mouth when Benjamin looked at me full-on. He blinked twice, then whispered, "Don't look at me, or the guards will know something's up. You're one of the Fae, aren't you? And you're fighting against the demons that I see in my visions?"
I stared at a patch of long grass growing near him. The breeze picked up, rippling the stems like a wave of green. I realized that Benjamin was hiding here more than anything else. But from what? The demons? "You're partially right. I'm half-Fae, and I'm from Otherworld. And yes, we're fighting demons. We need your help, Benjamin. Will you talk to us?"
He cleared his throat, then leaned back and stared at the sky again. After a moment, he said. "All right, but you have to promise you'll get me out of here."
"We'll do our best," I said, not knowing just how we'd keep that promise—at least on a long-term basis. Obviously, Benjamin wasn't as broken or fragile as Morio had first thought.
"I guess that will have to do," Benjamin said. "All right, I'll help you. What exactly do you need to know?"
"Tell us everything about the cave and the gem. From the beginning, and don't leave anything out." I let out a long, slow breath. Finally, we had found the break we were looking for. Maybe we had a chance after all.
