by Wen Spencer
“Well?” Jane asked.
He leaned close and whispered, “The EIA just found someone alive in the rubble. She’s hurt. They’re taking her to Mercy.”
“Her?” Jane whispered. Boo hadn’t mentioned that any of the oni were female. Not that it mattered, but Jane had gotten the impression it was a strictly males guarding the two children.
Marc lowered his voice even more. “They think she’s tengu.”
“Oh, shit.” All of the guards were oni because Joey was being kept hidden from the tengu. Kajo couldn’t trust his hold on Joey’s people if there was any chance that they could free him. The only reason that a tengu would be at the hatchery was because she’d been attempting to find and rescue Joey. The boy had at least two aunts and a female cousin prior to the attack on the house in California. Boo had said that they were killed but it was possible that one had escaped, and thus good as dead for Kajo’s needs. Was this one of them?
It was easy to think of Joey as their new baby brother. He was a sweet little kid that desperately wanted to be safe and loved. An adult who was “extended family” was something else. Jane had some cousins she wouldn’t trust any further than she could throw them. (Her mom’s side of the family reflected a sense of law and order, but her father’s side showed their moonshiner background.)
If Joey was now Boo’s brother, and by that tedious blood link, their new baby brother, what did it make his cousins? No one would blame them for ignoring that implausible connection—except Boo, who’d suffered too much already.
Then again, the enemy of your enemy is your friend.
If the oni only controlled the tengu through their hold on Joey’s family, couldn’t Jane use the same leverage to get Tinker and Windwolf’s baby brother back?
But there was the small matter that the female would be under heavy guard with the elves probably quickly closing in to take custody of her.
“Alton, stay with the kids.” Jane pointed at her oldest brother. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do, but she didn’t have time to sit and think. She needed to act now if ever. “Marc and Geoffrey, finish with Bertha. Duff and Guy, go through the sightings and find me a kill zone.” She would need the Chased by Monsters team for an excuse to get access to the tengu. “Nigel, Taggart.” And then because if she left Hal, he’d get into trouble, her garage possibly could be destroyed, and he’d end the night tied in a chair, she pointed at Hal. “Come.”
* * *
It was a forty-minute trip to Mercy Hospital. By the time Jane parked in their special reserved parking space—Hal’s slot of shame—they had a plan. A simple plan. Alarmingly simple. Claiming that they were seeking medical attention for Nigel’s saurus wounds, they’d enter Emergency and start to ask lots of questions on the guise that they were gathering material for a show. Technically they wouldn’t even be lying.
Once they determined where the tengu was located, it should be just a matter of pushing their way in for “an interview.” After that, they’d be purely winging it.
The last part of “the plan” had her stomach doing somersaults. Her family had been put right. She wanted to salvage Joey’s and save Windwolf’s, but it put Boo into jeopardy. How were they to know if they could trust this tengu female? Why would she believe anything that Jane had to say?
Dr. Nan was on duty. The petite blond doctor knew them too well. She laughed as she caught sight of Jane. “What did Hal do this time? Ah, he’s at least upright this time.” She snapped on a pair of latex gloves. “Come here, my pretty.”
“No, no, no, no, not me. Him!” Hal hid behind Jane.
Dr. Nan clapped her gloved hands together. “Fresh blood!”
“Nigel Reid, this is Dr. Nan Nuessle.” Jane waved to the naturalist. “Yesterday, he was roughed up by a saurus. He’s not feeling good.”
“Yesterday? Oh, good lord, you people!” Nan pointed at Nigel. “You, on the gurney. Show me where it hurts.”
Nigel gingerly peeled off his shirt. “We cleaned the wounds and applied antibiotics and plasters.”
“Plasters?” Dr. Nan looked a little alarmed.
“Bandages,” Jane clarified, having been through this exact discussion the day before. It was the difference between American English and British English.
“Oh, I see.” Dr. Nan ripped off the bandages, making everyone wince. She was wonderful with children; she just didn’t suffer fools, which meant Hal. Poor Nigel was suffering from association. “Oh, no. You call this clean? Saurus are meat eaters. They have nasty stuff living under their claws, which they embed deep into any wound. Salmonella. Botulism. Leptospirosis.” She started to assemble supplies on a stainless steel tray beside the bed. To a nurse, she said, “I’m going to need two grams of Ceftriaxone.”
“Two grams?” everyone echoed. Experience had taught Jane that shots were usually given in milligrams.
“These wounds are inflamed. Infection has already set in. You can’t pussyfoot around once these babies get started. You got to slam the door shut on them hard.”
Having Nigel treated was supposed to be a pretense. That he was seriously at risk made Jane feel guilty. She should have made sure he was fine last night, or this morning, before heading to Sandcastle. She had noticed him slowing down. She should have checked him earlier.
“Do you mind if we film this?” Nigel explained that he was in Pittsburgh for his show, Chased by Monsters, hence the reason he’d been attacked by the saurus. “The show name is misleading. Ouch. We really want to focus on what it’s like to live on Elfhome. Ow. Your experience in emergency medicine must be extraordinary. People like myself attacked by exotic plants and animals. Treating elves and oni.”
“Elves are verboten!” Dr. Nan ruthlessly scrubbed at the long, inflamed scratches while she talked. “They go to the hospices out beyond the Rim. Even human adults and children react differently to drugs. There’s no way we could safely treat elves.”
“Oni?” Hal asked. “Have you treated any of them?”
“Oh, you just missed that circus. We got a tengu in this evening along with half a dozen EIA grunts. They were digging her out when the building collapsed on all of them.”
“Were any of them badly hurt?” Nigel asked.
“Various broken limbs, concussions, cuts and bruises. I think two of the grunts are still on their feet and pulling guard duty. I tossed the tengu to the surgeons; let them figure out what to do with her. I do not do birds.”
Which meant that Dr. Nan probably didn’t know where in the hospital the tengu was now. Security, though, would know where a prisoner was located.
* * *
The guard on duty was new to Mercy Hospital. His boyish face made him look impossibly young despite a sparse beard, probably grown in the attempt to appear older. Jane nearly felt bad unleashing Hal on him as Dr. Nan finished cleaning and bandaging Nigel.
“You’re Hal Rogers!” the guard cried.
Hal beamed with happiness at being recognized. “So a fan of the show?”
“Am I ever!” The guard patted his pockets until he came up with a little pad of sticky notes and a click pen. “Can I have your autograph?”
“Sure!” Hal took the paper and pen. “Who do I make it to?”
“Jade Tinnerman. It’s spelt like it sounds. T. I. N. N. E. R. Man.”
“Jade?” Hal said.
Tinnerman gave an embarrassed smile. “My mom was saved by an elf at Startup, so she named me after him.”
“So you’re a real Pittsburgher: born and bred!” Hal had a practiced signature that included a little cartoon likeness of himself in a pith helmet and safari jacket. When he had a chance, like now, to take his time giving out his autograph, he went big.
“This close to being an half-elf.” Tinnerman held up his thumb and forefinger nearly pressed together. “But then my mom met my dad and I got stuck being only human.”
“Oh cruel fate,” Hal cried.
Jane kicked Hal to get him to hurry up.
Hal edged away
from Jane. “I heard that the EIA brought a wounded tengu in tonight. Did you see her?”
“Oh yeah, that was freaky.” Tinnerman held up his hands, curling his fingers into claws. “She had big chicken feet! And she was wearing these, these, things—they were like Freddy Krueger’s gloves but for her feet or something. She had on blue jeans and in her pockets were car keys, a driver’s license, and a pack of Marlboro 100s. And get this, the license says she’s from California.”
It took all of Jane’s control not to ask if she was from Pasadena.
After a patient’s clothes were taken off, their personal effects went to security. (Unless there was a spouse in attendance, or in Hal’s case, Jane.) Jane wasn’t sure what security normally did with the items, but it was possible that Tinnerman still had access to them.
Luckily, Hal realized that too. “Are you sure it’s a real license? When I was a freshman in college in California, the big thing was fake ID. The drinking age is twenty-one. There you are, in college, everyone drinking around you, and you can’t buy beer until you’re almost ready to graduate.”
Pittsburgh conformed to European legal drinking ages instead of those of the United States, a reflection of the EIA influence over the local laws. At a private residence, there was no minimum age, and sixteen-year-olds could buy beer and wine.
“Get out!” Tinnerman cried in disbelief. “You have to be twenty-one to buy beer?”
Hal spread his hands in a “what are you going to do” gesture. “Right. Beer?”
“That’s unreal,” Tinnerman said.
“So this tengu’s ID might have been fake,” Hal said. “If you want, I could look at it and tell you if it’s real or not.”
Tinnerman looked uncertain.
Hal pressed the boy. “Once the EIA gets ahold of it, they’re not going to tell us anything. They’re keeping us in the dark for most of this oni thing. We were at Sandcastle this morning because the oni have been releasing monsters into the rivers. Lots of them. And the EIA is too busy looking for Tinker domi to deal with them, so they called us in. Pittsburgh has a right to know what’s really going on. We can tell them.”
The young guard nodded slowly, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. “Yeah, you’re right. Let me grab it.”
“Make sure you show the camera,” Jane whispered while the boy fetched the ID.
Hal nodded, still focused on the guard.
Tinnerman returned and furtively showed Hal the ID. “Does it look real?”
Hal didn’t grab it from the boy. “At first glance, yes. But not everything is what it appears. Rub your finger over the signature. With a real one, you should feel the letters because they’ve been raised.”
Tinnerman’s eyes went wide. “You’re right!”
“Also there’s an outline of a brown bear when you shine a line from behind it.” Hal produced a small flashlight and twiddled his fingers for Tinnerman to hand him the ID. Hal shifted slightly so Taggart could film the card and pressed the light to the back of the card. The dotted outline of a grizzly appeared on the right hand side. “Yup, there. See.”
Tinnerman whistled and took out his wallet to find his Pittsburgh’s driver’s license. “Do we do anything that fancy?”
“That’s nothing. Watch this.” Hal flipped the flashlight over. “It looks like her picture is on here twice, right? But actually it’s on the card three times. The third only visible under ultraviolet light.”
Jane read the name on the card as Hal demonstrated the hidden photo. It claimed that the pictured woman with black hair was Yumiko Sessai. Jane hadn’t thought to ask Joey if the rest of his family shared his last name of Shoji. His cousin’s aunt, though, definitely wouldn’t have his name. Yumiko looked like she could be related but she also looked like she could be related to most of the people in Japan. Her address was Pasadena. It wasn’t Startouch drive, it was Ranch Top Road.
Jane poked Hal to move on. Quickly. There were at least two EIA guards on duty. If PB&G was going to “interview” Yumiko, they’d better do it before more guards could arrive.
“So where is this tengu?” Hal asked.
“She’s up on the top floor, right hand corner. It’s the room furthest from the nurse’s station, just in case trouble breaks out.” It would be the room that Mercy Hospital routinely put Hal in, most likely for the very same reason, only two floors up. Usually the rooms around Hal were empty. Mercy was the only hospital in Pittsburgh but anyone that could put off surgery went Stateside to get it done. “Although I can’t see what trouble could break out since the tengu is still unconscious and Sparrow will be here to collect her before she wakes up.”
“Sparrow? The viceroy’s secretary?” Hal asked.
Tinnerman nodded. “Yeah, the grunts told me that they’d called Maynard and he was with Sparrow down in the South Hills, nearly to the Rim by Brownsville. She’s on her way. They wanted to be sure I knew it so I could keep an eye out for her and make sure she got to the top floor when she arrived.” He straightened proudly. “I’m fluent in Elvish. I got straight A’s in high school. Busted my butt and got rank three translator qualifications.”
Hal made appreciative noises, as it was fairly impressive. Rank four required a Master’s degree; it also was the minimum level for official EIA translator positions. It meant that most Pittsburghers couldn’t get a job with the EIA despite conversing in Elvish their entire lives.
Nigel came down the hall, walking gingerly as he rebuttoned his linen shirt, but otherwise beaming with delight as normal. Hal caught sight of him and did a quick wrap-up, thanking Tinnerman for his help.
“This way.” Jane started them toward the correct bank of elevators to get up to the patients’ rooms. “Since the EIA had a building dropped on them, we only have to get past two guards who have had a very shitty day.” And it was about to get worse. Jane tried not to feel guilty. “If Sparrow shows up while we’re talking to Yumiko, let me do the talking.” Hal’s Elvish sucked. “I’ll let her know that Yumiko might know where Tinker domi is being held. If we can get Yumiko to trust us…”
Jane yelped with surprise as Nigel suddenly dragged her and Hal sideways into a janitor’s closet. “What the hell?” She whispered because the man probably had a good reason for cramming them into a five-foot-wide space.
“Jane, there’s something I haven’t told you that you need to know.” Nigel turned on the closet light, dragged Taggart into the closet too and shut the door.
“What?” Jane fought with a rag mop trying to fall into her face. “Seriously, what are we doing in here?”
“Turn the camera off,” Nigel told Taggart. “This cannot be recorded. It is a matter of life or death.”
Taggart looked mystified but hit the power button his camera. “Okay. It’s off. What’s this about?”
“Sparrow was the one that arranged to have Windwolf killed,” Nigel said quietly.
“What?” Jane cried.
Nigel held up his hands to quiet her. “Sparrow conspired with the oni to have the viceroy killed. If she had succeeded, she would have been in control of Pittsburgh until the queen decided who would rule in his place. Since these are elves, that could have been longer than any of us could imagine. It would have handed complete control of the city to the oni.”
“Shit!” Jane hissed.
Taggart was looking lost and confused. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”
Nigel sighed. “Because I’m protecting the ones that told me. Also there’s no proof to those allegations, but I believe them to be true.”
“Who told you?” Taggart growled.
“No one can know this,” Nigel said. “It must never be repeated, particularly on camera. It must remain a secret to our deaths.”
“You know you can trust me,” Taggart said.
“I met the wee lasses who are Lemon-Lime,” Nigel said. “Och, they are clever little ones but they’re in over their heads. They trusted me with their lives; I cannae betray them.”
It
took a moment for Jane to remember that Lemon-Lime was the name of the film company that gave Nigel the monster call. “How little is little? College age? High school?”
“They are not that much older than Joey. Eight. Nine.” He measured off a child that would only come to slightly above Jane’s hip. “Twins. At first I couldn’t believe them; Lemon-Lime videos are extensively researched and the humor is cunning, albeit often juvenile. It didn’t seem possible for such wee lasses to produce them. But then they explained the gossamer call. They weren’t repeating information that they barely grasped. They’d taken the barest of clues and created a device that uses magic—a power not found on Earth—to control beasts that live on another world. But by doing so, they had stumbled across a horrific secret. They trusted me with their lives by telling me what they’d found out.”
Jane had six younger siblings; she didn’t completely trust anything coming out of a child’s mouth. “Two nine-year-olds uncovered a conspiracy between an elf and the oni while on Earth?”
“They did a video of Windwolf being saved by a human man and woman, although the details…Oh! Oh! Oh my!”
Jane glanced around the tiny closet to see what was triggering Nigel’s wide-eyed look of surprise. “What?”
“They released this last month, immediately after Windwolf’s attack and disappearance hit the news. It was assumed that Lemon-Lime had some inside knowledge.” He pulled out his phone, and played a video. It was animated but accurately showed the attack on Windwolf by Foo dogs. And then it got weird. Windwolf was chased onto Grandma Gertie’s putt-putt golf course, menaced by a bull, attacked by a saurus, saved by Jane and Hal then taken to the Neighborhood of Make Believe.
“What…what…what…” Jane sputtered. She grabbed his phone and played it again. In the video, Jane was wearing something that looked like a Valkyrie costume but they’d nailed Hal from his pith helmet and safari jacket. “This is what happened to us! The events are out of order. We ate at the studio the night before, but this was yesterday morning! Bull. Flashbang. Saurus. Rifle.”
“I think we should consider anything they told me to be deadly accurate,” Nigel said.