Unwanted

by Mari LaRoche

  Three short, broad-shouldered creatures with close clipped hair ran to meet them. They wore heavy body armor and carried short thick clubs with an easy grace that made Viv flinch.

  Don’t be scared. They’re goblins, but this’ll be fun; the odds are on our side! Amusement and bloodlust radiated within her, and Viv wrestled with panic.

  Her body sprang for the closest goblin as Amir interposed himself between her and the other two. She ducked the swing of the club and lashed out for the inner elbow of the goblin’s weapon arm. She turned to keep him in view, not giving him her back.

  The claws ripped through clothing and flesh as if it were gauze, unimpeded. The creature didn’t make a sound, pivoting to deal her a blow with his fist that threw her backwards, her jaw screaming in pain.

  She scrambled back on the grass as the goblin leaped for her. Without her volition, all her limbs braced to catch him, her shoes tearing as similar pain invaded her feet.

  She wanted to close her eyes as the swipe of the claws on her feet ripped through the heavy nylon armor and disemboweled him. The smell and sensation of blood and flesh sickened her, overcoming the pleasure of winning the fight.

  She scrambled out from under him, grunting at the weight as she shoved him to the side.

  “What are you?” Viv asked aloud. She turned in a circle, looking for the other fight.

  Part of you. Call me Ušum. Amir’s taken the other two, so I’m going to nap now. The emotions faded, leaving her feeling ill. Her clothing was soaked in blood. Near her, the goblin still tried to scrabble his guts back into his abdomen.

  Amir’s hand appeared in front of her face. “Get up; we need to go.”

  Two other prone figures lay on the ground. With a faint moan, one of them struggled to rise to an elbow. Shock froze her as Amir delivered a swift kick to the still moving goblin. The struggler collapsed.

  “Will the one I…hurt…live?” Viv stared when Amir knelt, quickly going through their pockets. He smashed their phones under his heel while keeping their wallets.

  “They all will. Goblins are tough. You could have been badly hurt, Viv. Please run when I tell you to.”

  Amir was a gentle man; he always herded bugs onto paper and took them outside rather than squash them. She couldn’t reconcile him to this violence

  She wasn’t capable of this violence either, but the evidence made her statement a lie.

  Amir took her hand, tugging her toward his car. When Vivian sat, Nuby crawled into her lap and started licking the blood again. She moved his head and petted him. The familiar action gave stability to a newly fractured world.

  Her companion dumped the wallets in the backseat as he got in. “They were waiting for us; they must have left people along exit routes. Get in. Now. We need to move.” He started the car.

  "Would they have your license plate?" The questions Viv wanted to ask crowded her throat, but she couldn’t find the words.

  Tremors swept through her, partly from shock, partly from the air conditioning blowing on her wet clothing.

  "Probably not." Amir drove out of the lot, heading for the road. "They might have the make and model of the car, but this one isn't all that uncommon."

  "Do you have any idea why these people are after me?” She struggled to keep her voice even though she could hear its frayed edges. “Why did you take their wallets?"

  Amir glanced over at her. "I took the wallets, phones, and fobs to slow down information spreading. I can give you some idea of what's going on, but I think it might be better if you were in a place where you feel comfortable. I understand that you feel you can’t trust me.

  Vivian turned her head and stared out the window, chewing on his words. They left a sour taste in her mouth. Nuby squirmed in her lap.

  4

  Amir took Interstate 22 out of the city. Port Aransas was actually an island. They should be able to make the last ferry. Otherwise, they were stuck unless he had a boat hidden somewhere.

  Her temples throbbed with the steady beat of a tension headache. She wanted a shower so badly she could taste it. She wanted to call her therapist, but fear of being put in the hospital slowed her… Saying the other voice within her had felt like a separate person and had taken over her body was a good way to find herself locked in the psych ward.

  The wild Texas landscape surrounded them as they drove, the wide stretch of marshland rolling down to the Gulf. The silence between them was almost as cold as the moon riding high in the sky. It was another clear night, Viv belatedly recognized. Two in a row was almost unheard of this time of year.

  Away from the city, it was less cloudy, the moon almost ready to show herself again. It was just the kind of night that she liked to go out, sit in her backyard, and watch the stars revolve, and it sank in that the events of this evening might have stopped that kind of night for the foreseeable future. Not that it happened often; every three years.

  Viv bit her lip, heart starting to pound again. Crossing on the ferry after all of the evening’s events, with her anxiety already high, was not going to be fun. She had no idea why she was so afraid; she'd grown up by the sea, and her parents had told her that she'd never gone into the water willingly. Her mother joked that the reason she hadn't ever come close to drowning was because she ran from the waves rather than toward them.

  “There’s Wet Wipes in the glove compartment if you want to wipe your hands off,” Amir said, his tone neutral.

  She pulled them out and scrubbed first her hand then her face. The blood didn’t come off easily, and she swallowed hard. It was soaked into her clothes anyway. Why was she bothering? Shakes rippled through her, and she breathed them away, using the same discipline that got her to work every day across the water.

  Staring at the claws, willing them away, she jumped when they slid into her fingers again. She pressed her hands together but couldn’t feel them in her fingers; they’d vanished as swiftly as they appeared. The lingering ache in her fingertips was all that remained.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She wanted to confirm what the voice had told her. “What were the creatures at my house?”

  “They’re goblins. They’re a race that has been enslaved, then hired out as mercenaries for violent jobs.”

  “Why are they after me?”

  “My guess is they’ve been hired to kidnap you and take you to someone who wants you dead.”

  Viv shivered. “Why? Why not kill me then transport me?”

  Amir’s eyes remained steady on the road. “You have information they need and you both have enemies. I saw you fight; did something manifest in your mind? Another person, or memories that are unfamiliar to you?”

  “Maybe. If it wasn’t a psychotic break.”

  “That person made enemies when she was alive, and you’ve inherited them. I think we should talk about that more when we get to my place, so you have room to move and time to calm yourself. I like my car. I don’t want the poor thing to be damaged by your outrageous temper.” He glanced at her with a placating smile, and Vivian took a deep breath.

  His teasing and the breathing exercises for the rest of the drive helped.

  They made it just in time for the ferry run. Just before the car rolled onto the ferry, he patted her hand, and a flush of warmth rolled over her skin, accompanied by the sharp smell of burning. She glanced down.

  Her clothing was dry and unstained.

  Later. He would explain later. It was too much, with the upcoming ten-minute-long round in her love-hate relationship with the ocean. She stared down at her hands while Amir parked in the center of the deck as far from a view of the water as he could. Viv appreciated it. She didn't need to see or think about the black water outside. The motion was more than enough to remind her.

  She wanted the day to start over and everything to be normal. Since that wasn’t possible, she wanted an explanation. "This is the point where you can tell me what's going on."

  Amir leaned his seat back, closing his eyes. "Pe
ople want to kidnap you for abilities you have but you haven't yet manifested."

  "How did they know before I did? What’s going on?” She turned to face him. Slightly raised, the edge of her voice could have split silk as she clenched her hands together. “What am I? What can I do?”

  She directed the last questions inwardly as well. Silence answered her.

  He didn’t look at her. When he spoke, regret colored his tone. "Be careful what you ask for. You may get it. Do you still want to know?”

  “Yes.”

  “Second, a quote from Shakespeare; ‘There are more things in this world, Horatio, than you have ever dreamed of’."

  Vivian frowned. "You misquoted."

  Amir turned his head, opening his eyes to gaze at her. "I know. But that's the gist of it. Consider, for the third time, whether or not you want to know what’s happening or if you could be content to be protected and continue in ignorance. You, of all people, know that knowledge is power and harm.”

  He’d asked three times. In folklore, three was an important number, often used to compel an answer from an unwilling being. Viv paused then spoke slowly. “I am not a victim or a prize. Tell me.”

  “The threes thing never works for me.” Amir sighed. “Viv, you're not going to believe me.”

  Fate had said the same thing.

  Vivian raised her brows. "Now that we have that out of the way, why don't you tell me, and I’ll decide what my reaction will be."

  "This world is one of many. Many worlds, many peoples, and some of them come here, to humanity’s world, for a variety of reasons. They call humanity the Lastborn. Worlds, including this one, are called dominions. All dominions lie adjacent to humanity’s dominion.”

  Viv stared at him. There was no humor in his tone, no smile to show he was pulling her leg. Anxiety took the upper hand. If she was human, did that mean all of these creatures regarded her a lesser being? As food or a slave? He’d mentioned slaves…

  “Most of the creatures in myths and fairytales are real. Goblins? As I said, they’re the people who broke into your house. Daoine sidhe? Yes. They’re the goblins’ masters, in the literal sense of the word." He caught her gaze. "All of the legends are based on truth. Many creatures of legend can cross freely into humanity’s dominion and back into their own. Humanity has a difficult time finding these passages. Rusalka, merfolk, marid, all of these. Those are what you’ve been seeing all these years, Viv. That’s why I kept mentioning that magic exists, but I didn’t want to push it before you were ready."

  She examined his face. Beneath the anxiety produced by being on the water, hope bloomed that what she saw was the truth. Wariness tried to crush that hope- what seemed too good to be true often was. The competing emotions constricted her chest. He seemed perfectly serious. The pause stretched as Vivian inhaled. She tapped her fingertips on the arm of the car seat.

  She closed her eyes, calling information to mind. Informed was forearmed. “Before we go any further. What I think of when you say goblin is the Normandy word gobelin. It’s the name of a devil or daemon. It came from the Greek word kobalos, meaning rogue or imp. A small, ugly, malicious creature, often found underground.”

  She fiddled with the seatbelt, still talking. “What I saw outside my home was about five and a half feet tall with a very muscular build.” She opened her eyes, the words coming easily as the research came to mind, a little amused at how pedantic she must sound. “As for daoine sidhe, that’s modern Irish for the people of the mounds, known by a slightly different name in Scotland. They are variously said to be the ancestors, the spirits of nature, or goddesses and gods. I do not believe I’ve seen one. Is this correct?”

  “I can’t speak as to the name’s origins. Real goblins were originally creatures of the earth, miners and craftsmen, children of the Goddess, the NightQueen. By human standards, they have a different style of intelligence, more formed around the welfare of their community. They were enslaved by the daoine sidhe centuries ago. Daoine sidhe and their twin kindred, the áos sidhe, are children of the God, the DayKing.”

  “Who are the NightQueen and DayKing?”

  “They have different names. In your case, this version would work best.” Amir’s tone changed as if he were translating and reciting. "Tiamat and Marduk rose from the primal chaos, mother and father of all. They created all of the worlds, made them so they touched so their children would mingle and war until the best stepped forward. They molded all of the creatures from primal clay. Fairy to selkie to elf to genies.”

  She wanted to believe so much. Wonder was winning. “Vampires?”

  “Of a kind. Werewolves? They, too, have their own dominion. Some of these creatures descend from both the DayKing and the NightQueen. Others draw their lineage from the Queen or King and one of their lovers. A few kins descend from only one, entirely the creation of the sun or moon.”

  Vivian wanted to ask more, but the warning sounded as the ferry approached the dock. Amir righted his seat and started the car. “I want to concentrate on driving just in case there’s another attack. We’ll talk more when we get to my house.”

  As the line of cars moved, Vivian focused inward. Her meds were at home, so she’d miss her evening dose. On the other hand, Amir was telling her that what she saw was real. She wanted to believe, but skepticism and disbelief of the unusual or extraordinary had kept her able to function in the real world, and she couldn’t quite release them now despite everything.

  She cradled the sleeping Nuby, drawing comfort from his even breathing when events replayed in her mind—the blood, the fighting—and tried to overwhelm her. A strange serenity blossomed within her, and she leaned on it, too overwhelmed to worry about its source.

  Good. Relax. Everything will be fine.

  The comment from deep within didn’t help, though. Consciously, Vivian relaxed into the wellspring of calm. She needed it badly.

  They drove past middle-income houses crowded up to the dunes near the beach as they headed toward Amir’s house. In the quiet and newfound calm, curiosity reasserted itself. Amir had spoken of creator beings. How did they make the races? Were they the only creators, or were there others? How did all the stories tie together?

  He was her friend. She didn’t think he was setting her up, so measured inquiry would help explore his words.

  However, finding out more about why people were trying to kidnap her took precedence.

  Amir's small house stood on a street that dead-ended at the beach. After the last hurricane three years ago, she’d helped him rebuild it. It had a simple layout: kitchen, combined dining and living room, and two bedrooms. He pulled into the mostly-sand driveway and stopped the car.

  Vivian got out and followed him into the house, still carrying Nuby. The main room held only two chairs and a large rectangular chest that served as a table. Amir did not tolerate clutter.

  The water lay far enough away that she could enjoy it through the glass doors without more anxious thoughts intruding. She set the dog down. Inside a building, she didn’t have to worry about him attempting an escape. Nuby tucked himself into a corner and settled back to sleep.

  Amir sat in one of the chairs, gesturing for her to take the other. She sat on the edge of the brightly patterned seat cushion, clasping her hands to reassure herself they were still normal. The short respite from anxiety had dissipated.

  “Do the people after me know you and where you live?” Viv leaned forward.

  “Probably not.” He smiled at her reassuringly.

  “Why were they hired to go after me?” Every muscle in her tensed as she asked the question.

  “The King and Queen like to walk in humanity's dominion. But in order for them to, they need Keys that manifest in this world. Keys able to leach their power to levels where they could leave Godhome without risking the world. The segments of each Key are found and assembled by their children.” Amir paused.

  Straining for patience, Vivian waited for him to get to the point. It didn’t help to
interrupt him; he would answer at his own pace.

  "Both King and Queen send visions of where each Key will manifest. Each Key has three parts. When the proper Key is given to the King or Queen, they are released to walk in humanity's dominion world for a short time. We call the time for finding these keys the Reckoning.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “There are those who suspect you will have the dreams to locate the pieces of the Queen’s keys."

  "Regular humans have these dreams?"

  "Close. A seer has been reborn. You might be that seer, so you’re valuable to them.” He rose and crouched by her chair, touching her hand. “You’re infinitely more precious to me."

  "How do you know all of this?" Despite everything, the strange calm still held.

  "Because I'm not human, Vivian."

  She gazed at him and tried for a wry smile. "I want proof. Pictures or it didn’t happen. I need something to see or touch.”

  Amir rose and dropped the blinds then led her into the empty bedroom. One wall held a seascape. Amir had captured it in a way that spoke to her. The color, the motion, the smell of it; she could almost hear seagulls squawking and fighting for scraps. Squiggles on the floor caught her eye, though she couldn’t make sense of them.

  He extended his hands to her. And gained inches of height and pounds of muscle. His hair, while still dark, blazed with vivid red highlights, and his eyes shaded from brown to a vivid gold. His skin’s tone shifted from deeply tanned to gleaming bronze. The angles of his face sharpened, but he was still Amir.

  Wings spread from wall to wall, each feather etched in fire. The sheer beauty of them made her gasp where his physique did not.

  She stared, and the beat of the Gulf echoed in the room. The wind had picked up. Rain suddenly drummed on the roof.

  Humor lit the golden eyes. "Is this proof enough?"

  Lured forward by the dance of color on the wings, Vivian reached out, then jerked her hand back. The feathers were hot. As she watched, he pulled a receipt from his jeans pocket and brushed it against the edge of one wing. A brief flare of fire, then he crumpled it between his fingers, a fine rain of ashes falling to the floor.