The Not-Quite Interview of Tremayne, Hero of Between a Rock and a Heart Place by Natale Stenzel

Time and Date: 10:52  am, 24 February 2009

Place: subject's apartment, downtown Richmond, VA

Summary: Lizzy Dixon interviews Tremayne, inhumanly sexy mysterious nature spirit, for my lifelong quest personal curiosity newspaper article a thesis in magic power paranormal theory. Note that Tremayne is a total enigma, and therefore worth interviewing, although I will have to consider him a hostile source at this point. He's not quite cooperative--

"Tell me again why you're interrogating me?" Raising his gaze from the hastily penned words, Tremayne eyed the scribbling woman askance. Lizzy Dixon was human, a well-preserved 50 years of age, possibly older -- and notoriously nosy about Druids, pucas and the like. She was, in fact, something of a magic 'groupie,' from what he'd been told. She was also not-quite-stepmother to the entrancing Daphne Forbes, a non-practicing Druid who grudgingly wielded renegade puca powers that threatened her very sanity.

"Not interrogating. Interviewing." All but trembling in her enthusiasm, Lizzy beamed at him.

It was hard to dislike such a vital creature. Even if she was, well, odd for a human.

"Now, I realize you're some kind of nature spirit -- which I find unbearably intriguing -- and so you don't really understand our terminology so much . . ."

"Oh, but I do." He smiled slightly before gently continuing. "I've been listening to human 'terminology' for well over two thousand years."

"Two thousand years?" The pen slipped from her fingers and rolled across the notebook page, but she caught it up before it fell. "Oh, my. Although . . . I guess you would have to be at least that old. After all, the puca Riordan was imprisoned for two thousand years, and you served as his jailer." She tapped the pen against her chin before twirling it to emphasize her words. "So did you feel guilty about that? About being the jailer of an innocent puca who--"

"No. There was no conscience involved. The Druid who summoned me to service didn't expect it of me, nor was I capable of forming a choice based on compassion or personal morals. Not then anyway."

"Then?" Eyes glittering, she leaned forward in her chair. "What do you mean 'not then'? Not then, but you are now? Did you develop a conscience? Why, this is just fascinating. I'll have to interview the puca brothers and, of course, my daughter and her doctor friend. I wonder what a doctor would have to say about a conscience, though." She scribbled in her notebook, delicate crystal ring flashing maniacally with her movements. "I'm sure she must have studied some psychology and sociology. Oh, and Daphne." Pen slowing, she caught her breath as the possibilities engaged her imagination. "Wow, did she luck out." She turned a wide-eyed gaze on Tremayne. "Can you imagine having your fate decided by a man without a conscience? But if yours is still in its infancy . . . my god, is she already doomed?"

"Look, if you're set on some official interrogation -- or interview -- you'd better get on with it. I should really leave." Tremayne frowned at his watch. "Daphne's alone and she's not supposed to be."

"But why?" Lizzy seemed a little insulted on Daphne's behalf. "You said she was just at work. What can happen? Are you afraid she'll run with scissors? Recklessly dangle a preposition?"

"Just stick to the approved script." He nodded at the paper she'd tucked beneath her open notebook, with its designated Q and A alternating down the left margin.

"Spoil sport." Sliding the page free until it was readable, she touched pen to pad. "Here we go."

Lizzy Dixon: Please tell me your name, professional credits, marital status, bicep size . . .

Tremayne: Tremayne. None of your damn business.

"Oh, surely you can give me more than that." Lizzy batted her eyes in appeal, which moved him not at all. With an indignant sniff, she turned back to the paper. "Well, it's not like her own parents are looking out for her marital prospects. And even if they did, they'd probably pick some doormat of a half-powered Druid to romance her. I did a Druid once, and let me tell you, it's just not--"

"Marital prospects?" Having latched onto those words and failed to mentally move beyond them, he held his breath. As in, him for Daphne? Surely not. He'd been told a woman would require love when he still could not--

"Why?" She'd stilled and allowed a small smile. "Are you considering marriage to Daphne?"

"No." He forced a scowl and nodded at the page on her lap. "The script?"

"Oh, your precious script. What do you have to hide anyway? All right, all right." She turned back to her list.

LD: Who are you, why are you here, and do you pose a threat to, say, the average human being?

T: Tremayne. Because. No.

Sighing, she loosened her grip on the pen. "Now, really, Tremayne. I realize you're uncomfortable, but this is foolish. I've had more enlightening conversations with a brick wall."

"So go talk to one." Impatient and distracted now, he rose to his feet. If Daphne had shifted shape during his absence, even now she might be panicked, violently enraged, or worse, gone.

"Okay, how about answering just one question?" Speaking with composed haste, she set aside her notebook and let the page of formal questions drift carelessly to the floor. "One unscripted question that you answer completely. That's not too hard, is it?" She smiled sweetly and held out both hands, as if she could mentally pat him back into his patience and his seat. "If you do that, I promise I'll--"

A nagging thought finally crystallized. "And what do you need a thesis for, anyway? A degree of some kind? Nobody mentioned that you were pursuing education."

"Oh, it's just a little goal of mine I haven't decided to share publicly yet," she dismissed with a fluttering wave. "About that question, though. Give me just the one and I swear I won't bother you about it anymore." She laughed and lowered her voice confidingly. "And I've heard I can be a real pest when I'm in the mood to be bothersome. You don't want that, do you? Just one little answer and you're free."

Hardly. But refusing to answer it would be like swatting at a swarm of gnats or expecting reason from a faery. Pointless.  "All right. What is it?"

Without missing a beat -- she'd obviously been saving this one for best and last -- she met his eyes and spoke with fervent precision. "My question is this: Why, of all the beings in this world and any other, were you chosen to mentor Daphne Forbes? There's a whole grove of powerful Druids -- including Daphne's parents -- practicing right here in town. Even faeries have been wielding magic in our part of the world. But you . . . you're just one man. A nature spirit. Why are you the right man for the job?"

He folded his arms, wondering how much to tell, how much to conceal. Whether to tell her how very wrong indeed he might be for this job. In the end, all he had was the truth. "Because I'm the only one who can undo the effects of her combined magics. And, should the worst happen -- as in, she fails to control the powers or they drive her insane -- I'm the only one who can destroy Daphne."

Lizzy, who'd dropped her pen to the floor without even noticing, just stared at him.

"Does that answer your question?"

Bobbing a weak nod, she cleared her throat. "I, um, guess that would severely limit your eligibility as prospective suitor. What with the threats of murder and insanity . . ." She attempted a smile. "Well, it would be hard to get the old love buzz going with those hanging over a girl's head."

No doubt. Tremayne's question, though, was how any being -- even an objective, if evolving nature spirit -- could destroy the one woman who just might be the key to his heart and his very salvation.

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