by Kate Danley
"Huh," I said, wishing there was a drawing because the written details were pretty sketchy. "The first one... What does it do?"
"Not entirely sure," said Trovac. "I make sure not to ask the sorts of questions that might get me in trouble. I collect the jobs and redistribute them."
"Just to make sure I got all the details straight, we don't know what it looks like, we don't know what it does, we're not even sure where it is, and I'm supposed to find it and bring it in for you...?"
"That is why the queen is offering the big bucks." Trovac perched on his stool and placed the rest of the stack of jobs on the bar beside him. "The elfin queen is very insistent I find it, though. Strange you discovered a nest of vampires in one of the central locations a clock like this might show up..."
I sighed. I hated tracking objects. "No chance there's some bad guys I could punch instead?"
"I am afraid not, Maggie," said Trovac. "But maybe next time. There's a fellow named Fritz whom we believe has it. Rumor is he has a couple other items people have been looking for, too, but my employers are only interested in his treasures, not him. Bring me what you find."
Dad stopped him. "Only after we get our advance. Cash. Half up front."
Trovac threw him a look like he had swallowed a bug. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded stack of bills held in place by a rubber band. "$5k see you through?"
I think Dad was going to press for more, but I didn't want the scales to be weighted at all towards us owing Trovac shit. "That'll be perfect," I replied, reaching out to pocket the money.
Dad still wasn't going to let things be, though. "Why don't you just give us the whole stack of jobs," my dad said with a smile. "We'll let you know if anything else piques our interest."
Now, at this point, Trovac would have told me to take a long walk off of Santa Monica Pier. But the whole thing with the faerie boundary seemed to freak him out enough that he just handed that stack to my dad. "Take your pick. World Walker choice."
Dad handed the stack to me. "I'm going to give these to Maggie to look over and we'll get back to you."
"I shall look forward to hearing of your decision."
"Who knows?" said my dad getting up. "Maybe we'll be bored enough to go after everything."
"That would ease a great deal of burdens," said Trovac. There was actually a little undercurrent of hope in his voice, like he actually liked this idea a whole lot more than he wanted to let on.
"You never saw us," Dad reminded him with a wink.
"Never," he replied, his face suddenly breaking into a relieved smile. As Dad started walking towards the door, Trovac actually bowed. That muthafuckin' piece of shit elf who had done nothing the whole time I had known him except use-and-abuse me fucking bowed. "It is a pleasure working with you."
Dad didn't even look back. Just raised his hand and gave Trovac a wave as he walked into the main shop. I scrambled to gather up all the papers and catch up.
Trovac turned away from me to relight his cigar. "Say hello to that elfin partner of yours."
"I have no idea where he is," I replied.
"Of course," he replied, exhaling a mouth full of smoke. "Me, neither."
I hustled to catch up with Dad. He was already out the front door and headed down the alley. As we walked down the scary streets of downtown LA, I grabbed my dad's sleeve and hissed, "What just happened back there??"
"Maggie-girl," he said, putting me in a headlock and giving me a familial noogie. "You don't know the power you got."
I pulled out of it. "You got flippin' Trovac to side with us instead of the Queen of the Elves. That is CRAZY."
"AND I got a list of every single magical object that the queen is after," he replied, grabbing the stack out of my hand, rolling it up, and bopping me on the head with it.
"I know! I was there! What the fuck just happened?"
"We just threatened the entire elfin people with genocide."
Well, I guess that was one way of handling things. "That wasn't very nice," I pointed out.
"You're not going to wipe out all of creation," Dad informed me, like he couldn't believe I didn't get the joke. "But they just needed to know that you could."
"I'm still not getting it."
"You have no clue how big a deal it is that Mad King Cole came across the boundary, do you?"
"Evidently not," I replied. "It's a big deal?"
"Who the heck has been in charge of your education?" Dad groaned.
"You keep disappearing into boundaries and get turned into stone statuary."
He grunted with a level of disappointment that would have made Xiaoming proud. "That realm was supposed to be sealed off. And somehow it got unsealed. But you managed to send back the monster that lives under every elfin person's bed. That's power, Maggie. That's my girl. And we're going to make sure that they never forget you're the only thing standing between faerie and annihilation."
The wad of cash weighed in my jacket pocket like a dead weight. It was a necessary evil, but I didn't particularly enjoy taking on the mantle of the Scourge of the Other Side.
We drove back Xiaoming's apartment. Dad shot a quick text when we were close, and Killian was standing out in front of Xiaoming's house by the time we arrived. Not having to face off with Xiaoming's concrete lions should have been a blessing, but not so much because we got a good look at what shopping choices Killian had made.
"Can I just keep driving, Dad?" I asked, trying to keep the whine out of my voice.
He took a deep breath and said in his man's-gotta-do tone, "We can't just leave him here, Maggie. He's gonna get himself killed."
Killian had managed to stay away from the Sponge Bob t-shirts. But, unfortunately, he had fallen under the spell of Patrick the Starfish. Well, a cheap knock-off. He had six legs instead of five and that extra one was most definitely not where an extra leg should be on t-shirt merchandise for a children's show. Killian also had decided he needed a jacket and had bought a silk kimono with silver brocade dragons. And that the Los Angeles sun was too bright for his pale elfin skin, so he was wearing a sampan hat. And socks with zoris. We were all going to die.
"Why didn't Xiaoming stop him??" I hissed. "How could he let something like this happen?"
Killian popped into the back seat with a great big smile on his face. "I have been able to purchase an entire wardrobe, Maggie, and even managed to have small coins from the paper money you gave me left over." He took my hand and poured the change into it.
"Oh, Killian, you should have spent it all," I replied, trying to seem supportive.
"I was most thrifty! We shall not need to take any unnecessary jobs from Trovac in order to support my Earthen spending habits," he stated, settling back into his seat, just proud as punch. He held up the corner of his kimono. "Look! It is so shiny!" He then held up his feet in their wooden flip-flops. "And now I have sandals like the humans in Los Angeles, but with these split socks, my feet shall not become dirty! Look! The fabric fits between the thong!"
I looked over at my dad for some support and he just shook his head.
"Killian?" I said.
"Yes, Maggie?"
I held the stack of jobs we had received from Trovac. "I'm upping your spending limit."
Killian was silent. Finally, thoughtfully, he said, "I do not mind. I am very grateful for you taking on this burden, Maggie, but I have all the earthly objects that I need. A shirt, pants, shoes, a jacket. I shall find new employment. We do not need to reach any bargains with Trovac."
Killian's bowing and scraping was giving me hives. "Listen," I replied, trying to get him to stop. "You and Pipistrelle didn't happen to do a brain swap, did you? It's fine. I always hated the Other Side."
"Really?" he asked, with slightly more pathetic hope than I liked in my elves.
I realized without his elfin powers, he wasn't able to get a read on me at all, and that was freaking him out. I gave him a smile and tried not to make it appear too grim. "I am really looking forward to
the fact that, for the most part, I can wander around after dark here on Earth and not get my face eaten off."
"It is a definite plus," my dad chimed in.
Killian nodded, indicating he heard what we were saying but wasn't entirely convinced. Neither were we, but I wasn't going to let on.
Killian pressed. "You have upended your entire existence for me. And I am willing to make whatever sacrifices so that this is as a small a burden as possible."
"Well, Killian," I said. "First, we're going to have to sacrifice that shirt."
Killian clutched it. "Not this shirt! Xiaoming sang me a song regarding pineapple residences beneath the ocean when I purchased it!"
He really was channeling the spirit of Pipistrelle. "We're going to need to blend in a bit more and you are looking so fancy, I'm afraid you might draw unwanted attention to yourself."
His mouth formed an "O" and he nodded in understanding. "I see. Of course. This is what you might refer to as more 'evening wear'?"
"Laaate evening. Like, right before you go to bed wear."
"Bed?" A horrified expression crossed his face and Killian leaned forward to whisper. "Is this... 'adult' wear? Have I worn something erotically stimulating into polite society?"
"NO!" I said, then looked at the sixth leg on the starfish. "It is a little lewd. But more... Well, it is more sleepwear than day-to-day wear."
"AH!" said Killian, exhaling with relief. "I was fearful I had made a grave error."
I didn't want to break it to him that he hadn't exactly sidestepped that error. "You're fine. Listen, Dad and I got a job from Trovac and it is a doozy."
"Really?" asked Killian with interest.
"Turns out, you get to keep that job in the German village.
"Oh no..." said Killian. "I do not wish to return to the German village..."
"How do you really feel about schnitzel?"
Chapter Six
We drove up to the parking lot to Little Bavaria for the second time in forty-eight hours, which was already two too many times for me, but a girl has to take care of her elf.
I saw Killian brace himself for whatever adventures lay ahead, and boy, dollars to donuts this wasn't going to be a bag and run job, no matter how unassuming the brief on the cuckoo clock looked.
The parking lot was packed, which led me to wonder if the bloodbath two nights ago was a one-off thing or if all the people who might have posted on Yelp were dead.
I pulled out the folder to consult it. "Okay, we're looking for a shopkeeper named Fritz."
"German fellow?"
I gave Killian the side-eye as he eyed a dance troupe of co-eds dressed in dirndls.
"Hey! Elf! I need your focus here!"
Killian turned to me and smiled. "This should be a 'slice of cake', should it not? Shall we start by asking those fair maidens if they know Fritz? I would be more than happy to begin the questioning."
"NO," I said and then looked at the crowds of people around us. "And it SHOULD be a 'slice of cake', except I wasn't planning on the entire population of Torrance being here. It's gonna be a bitch-and-a-half shoplifting a magical cuckoo clock with no one seeing us. Makes me long for the days when I could just haul in criminal types like him and let the official folks do the post-lockup yard sale."
"What is his crime?" asked Killian, peering at the rap sheet over my shoulder.
"Laundering of magical artifacts."
"Laundering? I was not aware washing was a multidimensional crime."
"I know a few frat houses at USC that would beg to differ." Killian didn't get the joke. I sighed. "He's been amassing magical artifacts, hiding them at the border from the guards, selling them here, but then not actually selling them."
"Is that actually a crime?"
"He's been selling fakes at magical prices. Now, I'm not going to judge someone laying down a swindle or two when selling magic stuff to non-magic types here on Earth, but that means he's got a stockroom full of homeless magical artifacts and a bunch of people pissed off at him."
"I am still not seeing the issue," pressed Killian.
I sighed and explained slowly. "When they find him, said prior clients are gonna kill him. And when they kill him, someone is going to get his entire stockpile of magical goods."
"Ah!" he replied, the lights going on in the attic. "Now it is beginning to make a little more sense."
"So our job, since we've chosen to accept it, is to find this weenie, strip him of his magical storage unit, and get the worlds back into balance."
"And he is here?"
"He runs a shop," I said, getting out of the car.
The heat came rolling in like I had opened an oven door. It was not a good day for me to be wearing my leathers. I know that most places September means the start of fall, but in Los Angeles, it is still the middle of summer.
I wiped the sweat away from my brow. "Ugh. Remind me to invest in cotton," I remarked as I stripped off my leather jacket and tied it around my waist.
Everyone around us was headed to the white tent at the end of the parking lot. Judging by the number of strollers, I'm guessing it was Family Day or something. That or the legal drinking age had been lowered substantially.
But that isn't where Killian and I were headed. On the other side of the parking lot was the teeny, tiny, little, German shopping center. The entrance was marked by a metal sign arching over the pavement which read: Little Bavaria.
But from the moment we stepped through, it was like we had stepped into another world. I actually did a quick dimension check to make sure no one had folded us into a pocket. All of time and space appeared to be in order.
That still didn't account for the absolute lack of people. Sound seemed to both echo yet be muffled. The shop exteriors were whitewashed and then painted with murals from Aesop's fables and picturesque Bavarian landscapes — goats bouncing around the hillside and men blowing on Alpine horns and such. It looked almost exactly like a little Alpine village. An abandoned, run down Alpine village.
We found our way into the central courtyard. The concrete had been dyed green, a design decision I suppose was once made to suggest the idea of grass, but no one had kept it up. The color was chipped and faded. In the center stood a sorry little church with a plaque that read: Wedding Chapel. I nudged Killian. "Hey! If you end up having to marry the Queen, you could do it here."
"Does that mean I shall have to cancel the reservation to hold the wedding at your mother's house?"
"Ooo! Burn!" I held up my hand and we high-fived and then low-fived.
I peeked inside the chapel's open doors. There were six pews, each about three seats across, and a small altar at the far end. Sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows. A shriveled old woman prayed the rosary inside, her head bowed and covered with black lace. With all the vampires who had been here, I wondered if the site was still sacred and the one bastion of safety for more moral types or if it had been desecrated. I made a mental note to invite Father Killarney to check it out sometime. At least there was enough beer in this immediate vicinity to bribe him.
For an area that should be hopping with all the festivities going on, it seemed strange we were the only ones. It was almost as if there was a spell to encourage people to leave. My brain flipped that idea over a couple more times and wondered if it was a good spell to keep this section hidden for evil Other Siders or a curse to keep law-abiding folks like myself away.
We turned the corner and followed the faux street to the next row of shops. There was a string of tattered flags running across the windows. There was an empty shop selling lederhosen. The proprietress glared at us as if daring us to come inside. There was a grocery store featuring cheese and sausages, but although the sign said "Open" there was no one inside.
We turned another corner and found ourselves in a dark alley that led through to another dark alley. I didn't have to be a tracker to know that there was some bad blood that had been spilled here. And by bad blood, it felt like a vampire kill zo
ne.
"I do not like this place," I said to Killian. "I do not like it one bit."
"I am sorry, Maggie," Killian said, looking around. "I cannot sense whatever it is that you are sensing."
It sucked to know we'd be relying solely on my senses if the boogeyman jumped out.
"Are you sure the shop is this way?" Killian asked, glancing into the shadows.
I saw his fingertips nervously brush against the scar he had on his neck. I made a note to buy him a neckguard as soon as we were done in this place, especially since he wasn't going to be able to protect himself with his normal level of kung fu fighting.
But our goal was in sight and there was no getting out of it now, not if I was hoping to save face with Trovac. And not have to pay back the advance.
In front of us was a little antique shop. It was so stuffed with crap, I couldn't even see inside the windows. I motioned to Killian and unbuttoned the flaps holding my weaponry in place. I didn't anticipate I'd have to use anything, but sometimes you get lucky.
I opened up the glass door and a small brass bell tinkled overhead.
"MAGGIE!"
Fuck.
It was my mother.
My mother!
My mother was standing right smack dab in the middle of this abandoned antique shop in Torrance for no apparent reason.
"What are you doing here?" I hissed, rushing over to her side and grabbing her elbow. "You're supposed to be out with Dad. Bad things are about to go down here." I tried to steer her towards the door but she was having none of that.
"Honey! It is so good to see you! I knew you were going to be here, so I decided to just stop on by." She picked up two little salt and pepper shakers shaped like shih-tzu dogs kissing. "Isn't this just the cutest little place in the world?"
"No!" I said, glancing over the shelves of 1970s secondhand crap to the walls covered in cuckoo clocks. I took the salt and pepper shakers out of her hand. "No, it is not. I need you to put down the shih-tzus because, I shih-tzu not, shit is about you go down. You need to leave. Now."