Fallen by James Somers Page A

flavored tobacco smoke wafted around him as the seam closed
itself over him again.
     
     
     

Mr. Sinister
     
    The retreating fog revealed a sunlit alley,
dingy buildings and stained garments drying on wash-lines high
above. I stared, trying to get my bearings in the new environment.
I searched quickly for any of the amazing sights I had just seen.
The smell of urine and sweat helped me realize where I was.
    “Have we come back to London?”
    Tom gave me a funny look. “Of course. You
can’t live in a dream all the time, Brody.”
    Tom’s clothing had returned to its former
disheveled state. I frowned when I realized my own accouterments
had faired no better. “Why did our clothing go back to the way it
was?”
    “This is a different world,” he said. “It
doesn’t take much effort to make things any way you want in Faerie.
But in this physical world, it’s more difficult. I mean I could
whip us up some nice duds for sure, but you’d stick out like a sore
thumb…easier for the police to spot you. You wouldn’t want that
would you?”
    I felt disappointed. “Of course not.”
    “Good.”
    A bird called from high above. I looked up
and saw a large raven diving through the lines of clothing swaying
in the light breeze. As it swooped down upon us, Tom raised his arm
as though he might shield himself from the creature. The bird
opened its wings to catch the wind then lit upon Tom’s arm.
    The bird sat there, staring past Tom at me.
I felt uncomfortable under its gaze and wondered if it might
suddenly leap from his arm to peck my eyes out.
    “Why is it staring at me?”
    “What’s wrong, you ninny?” Tom chided.
“Afraid of a bird?”
    I shook my head, though there was no
conviction to it.
    The bird opened its beak and spoke. “You’re
late, you’re late.”
    Tom found nothing unusual in this and
responded, “Of course, I’m late! You’d be late too if you’d been
pinched. The beak almost stretched our necks—not that you’d
care.”
    The bird fluttered and squawked
disapprovingly upon Tom’s arm.
    Tom scolded the bird. “Now off with you and
tell Mr. Sinister I’ve brought someone special to meet him. Brody
West from America.”
    The bird took flight, bouncing Tom’s arm
with its weight as it leaped away. The bird flew out of sight among
the clothing high above us. I very nearly leaped out of my skin,
turning to find a tall lanky man standing almost on top of me.
    The man stood nearly seven feet tall,
wearing dark trousers and a coat. He was unshaven and had dark
circles, like streaks of soot, under his eyes. A black derby sat
upon his dark shaggy mop of hair. He smiled at me with perfectly
white teeth that reminded me of a predator. He extended one of his
hands, which had been hidden behind his back. Long black nails
reached down to take my small hand in his. “It is a pleasure to
make your acquaintance, Mr. West. I am Mr. Sinister.”
    I stood there speechless. His sudden and
menacing appearance unsettled me more than I can say. Had I
searched the entire world for a description of the man, I would
never have found one so fitting as his given name.
    Mr. Sinister regarded Tom standing next to
me. “It seems Mr. West is quite speechless, Tom. Perhaps you can
enlighten me as to how he came to us?”
    Tom motioned toward the door in the building
to our right. “Come on, Brody. We’ll get you something to eat while
I talk to the boss.”
    I tried to turn and follow Tom, but my eyes
kept peeling back to look at Mr. Sinister. He seemed the sort of
fellow who might cut your throat as soon as you weren’t looking. He
continued smiling at me, though his thin lips had now come down
over his teeth. As I came through the door, darkness engulfed me.
Only the light from the alley, through the doorway, penetrated the
room. I looked back, wondering how close Mr. Sinister had followed.
The door slammed shut, seemingly of its own volition.
    “Tom, where are you?” I cried in the
darkness.
    An oil lamp’s