Three Dogma Night (The Elven Prophecy Book 3)

by Theophilus Monroe

  “And fire beats what, exactly?” I asked.

  “Fire can char the earth, and earth can thwart the air. Then, together, with the remainder of the elements, you will face aether.”

  “I thought you said he already mastered aether,” Layla piped up.

  “He wields it in part,” Aerin said. “But only because aether dwells within him as it does us all. He has not subdued it.”

  “So, this is like one big game of rock, paper, scissors?” I asked.

  Aerin tilted her head. “I do not know this game.”

  “You know, Roshambo. Rock crushes scissors. Paper covers rock. Scissors cut paper.”

  “Paper covers rock?” Aerin asked. “That’s weak.”

  “I agree,” I said. “The game isn’t logical. If you’re coming at me with a piece of paper and I have a rock, I’d like my chances.”

  “If I understand this Roshambo correctly,” Aerin said, “the principle is similar. The proper element must be selected to subdue the other. When all five are wielded together, you have every element at your disposal to master them all.”

  Layla nodded. “Level-five magic. It makes sense.”

  “Yes,” Aerin said. “But these are not mere levels. No single element is greater than any other. Only when all five are mastered are you truly in full communion with the Earth.”

  I nodded. I had to be clever about my next question. I didn’t want to tell Aerin about Ensley, but I felt like because he hadn’t sensed the drow, I needed to probe a little more. “And you—the drow, I mean—you’ve been wielding these elements?”

  “Some of us have accessed them, yes,” Aerin said.

  I nodded. “Well, a little while back when I was using my magic, I attracted the attention of a trickster fairy. I imagine they’ve been hassling you for centuries.”

  Aerin smiled. “I suppose your fairy friend told you that he was unaware the drow still lived, did he not?”

  I cocked my head. “How did you know?”

  Aerin smiled. “We’ve devised ways to evade detection by the fae. We sense their movements, much in the way that we sensed your magic as you began to wield it.”

  “So, you don’t wield infernal magic?” I asked. “Or angel magic?”

  Aerin laughed out loud. “Of course not, but I’m not surprised that your fairy would assume as much. They are so convinced they are the sole guardians of the Earth’s powers that they’d never admit the possibility that we’ve been able to avoid them all this time.”

  “How do you do that, exactly?” Layla asked. “Avoid being found out by the fae?”

  “We do not wield the magic of the elements directly,” Aerin explained. “We work with all of the elements through enchantments.”

  “That’s brilliant!” Layla exclaimed. “I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

  “What do you mean by enchantments?” I asked.

  “Fairies only sense magic when a being such as you or me draws it from the Earth directly. But when an object is enchanted, we can wield the power of the elements since they are tied to particular objects.”

  “What sort of objects?” I asked.

  “Like my blade,” Aerin said, extending her hand. One of the two men standing behind her unsheathed a long, curved blade from his side and handed it to her.

  She waved it, and something like flames sparked from its sharp edge.

  “My blade is enchanted with fire,” Aerin said. “When I use it, the power of fire accompanies it. But it is the blade rather than I that is wielding the element, even as I wield the blade.”

  “It’s a loophole,” Layla said. “But you’re still limited in how you can use it.”

  “Indeed,” Aerin said. “Different objects, if enchanted properly, evoke different aspects of the various elements.”

  “So, what’s the advantage of enchanting a sword with fire?” I asked. “Isn’t it deadly enough as it is?”

  “Indeed,” Aerin said. “But with fire, were I to strike you, the wound would cauterize on contact. It would wound you, but you wouldn’t bleed out.”

  “Why would you want to do that?” Layla asked.

  Aerin huffed. “I’d expect no less from an elf who was raised knowing nothing but war. It is meant to maim a foe but preserve their life. Unlike our elven counterparts on New Albion, we have no interest in killing.”

  “And these gifts you’d give me if I succeed in these trials…they are enchanted objects, too?” I asked.

  “I cannot say,” Aerin said.

  “You mean, you won’t say,” Layla said.

  “No,” Aerin said. “I meant what I said. The boxes are, perhaps, enchanted, only able to be opened by one who wields all the elements. We do not know what they contain, just that these items were to be preserved and kept safe for the coming of the chosen one.”

  “Enchanting these elements has to require a certain amount of magic, I’d think.”

  “It does,” Aerin nodded.

  “And the fairies don’t detect that?” I asked.

  “We draw only on the magic that cohered within our spirits. We use that to enchant objects. It is minimal, but by projecting our spirit outside of our bodies, we can engage minimal quantities of magic.”

  “Enough to enchant an object?” Layla asked.

  “Over time,” Aerin said. “Does a master blacksmith craft a blade in a single hour?”

  “He doesn’t,” Layla said, glancing across the room. Fred, the leader of this particular chapter of the Elf Gate cult, had worked as a blacksmith at the local renaissance fair. It was with his help that we’d crafted a forgery of the Blade of Echoes before I’d destroyed it. “A small blade takes several days.”

  “Precisely,” Aerin said. “When enchanting an object, it takes time, and more than a few days.”

  “How long did it take to enchant your sword?” I asked.

  “Nearly a decade,” Aerin said.

  “Dang!” Layla exclaimed. “That’s an arduous process.”

  “It requires patience. Discipline. You’ll find that when the drow want something, we have the patience to see it come to pass.”

  Layla grunted. I wasn’t sure if Aerin was speaking of her previously articulated desire to make me her husband according to her interpretation of the prophecy, but that was how Layla took it.

  Beyond being in love with Layla, I found I wasn’t open to the idea of being Aerin’s husband in a society that embraced female superiority. I was not inclined to assume a submissive role in a relationship. I preferred spouses to view one another as equals. I didn’t ever want to become subby hubby.

  I nodded. “All right. Any tips on what I should try against this elemental?”

  Aerin smiled. “You already possess everything you need. I can say no more lest I cast doubt on the reasons for your successes. Should you prevail, of course.”

  Chapter Eleven

  One of Aerin’s two lackeys, Haldir or Iston, I forgot which one was which, approached with something shrouded by a blue cloth. Aerin took it in her hands and removed the veil. A blue orb rested in her hands.

  Like a crystal ball.

  “Behold,” she said. “The element of water.”

  I nodded in response, then looked around. I wasn’t sure where the cameras were. In the old days, you could find a camera because they had little red lights that lit when recording. But in the digital era, the camera could be anywhere.

  Not like I planned to look at it and smile. Quite the opposite. If I knew where it was, I’d do my best to show it my better side more often than not.

  I made eye contact with Layla, who smiled at me and nodded. Her way of communicating confidence in me, I suppose. Then I noticed Fred’s bearded shit-eating grin right beside her. Of course, he was sitting with my woman. Fucker.

  “The rules are simple,” Aerin said, drawing my attention back to the matter at hand. “When I release the elemental, our subject must subdue it using only the magic he can wield. The elemental will not be able to pass beyond the c
ircle of stones, so lest our subject is granted any advantages, he must likewise remain within the circle.”

  I put up my dukes for no other reason than I felt awkward standing there without so much as a wand or some kind of weapon at my disposal.

  Sure, I had magic…sort of…but I felt naked. As if by punching a water elemental, I was going to accomplish something beyond washing my hands.

  I assumed the thing would be pure water with intelligence.

  I’d never seen an elemental, sort of like I hadn’t seen elves, or giants, or fairies until recently. None of the mythic races met the expectations I had from growing up reading Tolkien. Real elves, apart from Layla, were the bad guys. The orcs, who didn’t like being called orcs, were the good guys, God rest their souls. And the fairies. Well, I didn’t have any expectations there, but I didn’t count on them being expert pranksters or portal masters.

  My knowledge of elementals was pretty much limited to video game lore. World of Warcraft, games like that. I doubted it was accurate. In the game, water elementals shot water at you, which hurt for some reason. Not sure if it was acid rain or what, but they weren’t much more than good water-gun-battle partners.

  For some reason, I doubted this elemental would be inclined to simply give me a shower.

  Aerin dropped the orb she was holding, and it shattered on the floor. Someone was going to have to sweep that up later. Nothing worse than cleaning up glass. They’d probably find shards in strange places and stuck in the treads of people’s shoes for months.

  Then a strange figure, blue and luminescent, grew out of the puddle that had formed where the orb broke. By grew, I mean it got huge and kept growing.

  I dropped my fists.

  I thought I’d at least look ready if I was in a fighting pose. Compared to this massive thing, I just looked ridiculous.

  Water is heavier than people realize.

  Learned that when I had to swim to the bottom of Meramec Springs. You have to clear your ears as you go. Otherwise, you’ll blow an eardrum. And they say that submarines can only go so deep without being crushed by the pressure of the ocean.

  This elemental was sizable enough that if he just collapsed on me, I’d be done in by the pressure. Not like I knew for sure, but I wasn’t about to test it.

  I knew how to breathe underwater when I was attuned to magic. Learned that trick at the springs and while traveling the ley line from there to where the elf gate had formed at the confluence of the Meramec and Mississippi.

  Maybe I could dive into this thing, then release my magic and blow it into thousands of droplets. I was sure I could envision an explosion of magic around my body. Maybe that would do it.

  I took a deep breath and charged the creature.

  I was so focused that the screams and cheers of the cultists who had gathered were muted. I could hear them, but I wasn’t paying any attention.

  I braced myself as I prepared to launch into the elemental’s body, then I froze. Stuck! Stuck in place, like one of those nightmares where someone is coming after you, and you just can’t move.

  What the…

  The creature was made of water. My body was mostly water. I started to sweat profusely. This creature was drawing the water out of my body. The damned thing was going to dehydrate me to death. Wouldn’t take long because I’d sweated a shirtful of water and more earlier in the day and hadn’t replenished my fluids.

  My throat was parched. Ironic. There was a massive body of water not two feet in front of me, and I couldn’t even drink.

  You already possess everything you need.

  Aerin’s voice echoed in my mind. Was she telling me something that might help? Surely she had known this was going to happen, or at least, she knew it was a possibility.

  So what did she mean by that?

  What were we talking about before she said that? How the drow enchanted objects. How they got away with working magic without alerting the fae.

  How did she say it worked?

  By projecting our spirit outside our bodies.

  Could I even do that? When I flew, it felt like that was what was happening, but my body always came along for the ride. If I’d been doing that by the magic of my spirit, the only element she said Layla had taught me to wield effectively, maybe it wasn’t my body that flew, but my spirit.

  Spirit, Aerin had said, preceded water. It was spirit that hovered over the face of the deep in the second verse of Genesis. Sure, in the Bible, it was the spirit of God, but it was His spirit, His breath, that was breathed into Adam’s nostrils and brought him to life. The same spirit of God that was there in the beginning, taming the primordial sea.

  I didn’t know if it would work, but it was the only idea I had.

  It seemed Aerin had been dropping hints as subtly as she could to help me. She gave me everything I needed to know because I already had everything I required to subdue water at my disposal. So I decided to fly, or to use the words in Genesis, to hover like a spirit.

  A Madonna song came into my head. Like a spirit, kicking elemental ass for the very first time. Sure, my syllabification was off compared to the original, but it worked for me.

  I tried to focus. I needed yoga focus. A Layla-and-Agnus-mocking-me-in-the-background-while-trying-to-hold-tree-pose level of focus. I envisioned myself flying out of my body and into the elemental’s globular frame, and I visualized the elemental flowing into my body.

  All the water absorbed through my pores into my mouth.

  I opened my eyes, and I was standing in the middle of the stone circle alone. The elemental was gone.

  Chapter Twelve

  People cheered. The whole place was filled with a roar. You’d think I was at a Cardinals game or something, and I’d just hit a home run. Maybe at a Chiefs game after a touchdown. It was loud. I didn’t have a chance to take a bow.

  I had to pee!

  I took off through the crowd of cultists, even pushing past Layla, who was standing there expecting a kiss. I’d have to deal with that later. She’d understand.

  Holy crap, I had to pee.

  After absorbing that much water at once, it was no wonder.

  Back when I used to buy CDs, I had an Adam Sandler comedy album with a track entitled The Longest Pee. It was just the sound of peeing, and it went on for like five minutes.

  That’s what this was like. I just kept going, like my manhood had turned into a fire hose and the entire city’s water supply was hooked up to my bladder. Maybe that was how I’d take down the next elemental, the fire elemental. Pee on it. Probably not good for live streaming.

  A green glow appeared beside me.

  “Nice work!” Ensley said.

  “Dude, don’t creep on me at the pisser. It’s weird.”

  “I’m not looking! I mean, I might have glanced.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t believe that worked.”

  Ensley nodded. “At least I know how the drow evaded us for so long.”

  I nodded. “You’re surprised by that?”

  “A little,” Ensley said. “Most humans, and elves for that matter, once they wield a little magic, can’t exercise that sort of restraint. They use more and more until we have to get involved.”

  I nodded. “So it’s legit? What Aerin said?”

  Ensley nodded. “I think so. It’s impressive, but I’ll leave you to go bask in your glory.”

  I nodded.

  I was still peeing. Then I stopped. Finally.

  Then I felt the urge again.

  I peed more.

  Dear Lord, I thought. When is this going to end?

  I must’ve been standing there urinating for a solid five minutes or more.

  I stopped again.

  This time the urge didn’t return.

  I shook myself, then I went to the sink to wash my hands because I’m not a disgusting human being. Not that disgusting, anyway.

  I turned on the sink.

  And water splashed all over my mid-section from my waist down my pants
.

  Someone had put cellophane across the sink.

  “Dammit, Ensley!” I shouted.

  I didn’t see him, but I could hear him giggling. He was still here, hiding in the ether or whatever.

  I looked like I’d just peed my pants.

  I shook my head.

  Nothing I could do about it.

  Maybe no one would think anything of it. I was just in a battle with a water elemental, after all. Of course, I’d get a little wet.

  I stepped out of the bathroom, and Layla lunged for me.

  Then she stopped and took two steps back.

  “Caspar!” Layla said. “You peed your pants!”

  I shook my head. “It’s just water.”

  “Sure it is,” Jag said, stepping up behind me and slapping me harder than I’d like on my back.

  “No, really,” I said. “It’s water.”

  I suppose I could have tried to duplicate my battle with the elemental. Maybe I could have absorbed the water from my pants, but the thought didn’t occur to me until I was standing there in my humiliation.

  “No worries, man,” Jag said. “It’s cool to pee your pants.”

  I chuckled. The second Adam Sandler reference in the last five-plus minutes. This time, from Billy Madison.

  “You want to pee your pants with me?” I asked. “You know, as an expression of solidarity?”

  “That’s okay,” Jag said. “I’m willing to admit that at this very moment, you’re cooler than me.”

  I snorted.

  “Congratulations,” Aerin said as she approached. The rest of the cultists were gathered around, clapping. “If I were you, I’d practice wielding the new power that coheres within you. Figure out what you can do. You’ll need it tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Aerin,” I said.

  “And next time,” Aerin added, “I’d suggest you bring a change of clothes.”

  “It’s just water!” I insisted.

  Aerin turned back toward me and winked, then walked away. Yeah, she knew it was water. But she was apparently willing to have a laugh at my expense with the rest of them.

  “I’d offer you a ride home,” Jag said. “But you know, pee. On my seats.”