by penny watson
“Kiana, I have to take this call. I am so sorry.”
She pushed against him again. “Get. Off. How much do you weigh, anyhow?”
He took a step back and barked into the phone. “Just a minute, Boris!” Kiana had turned to the door and was fumbling with her keys. He flattened his hand over the lock.
“No way. You are not running again. Just let me take this phone call and we can talk.”
She stabbed his hand with her keys.
“Ow! What are you doing?”
She twisted back to face him. “What do you think? Getting into my apartment, if you don’t mind. Just take your phone call, Oskar.” She took a deep, steadying breath, but her voice was still shaky. “You said one cup of coffee, and then you’d leave me alone. Fine. I kept up my end of the deal.”
The anguish he saw in her eyes made him sick. I’d like to kill that damned surfing bastard in Oahu. “Kiana, I know you enjoyed our date. And we are having another one. Tomorrow.” He heard Boris blabbering on the phone. He pulled the phone back up to his ear. “Just a minute! Christ!”
“Boss, we gotta talk. Now,” Boris’ gravelly voice answered.
“Give me a minute.”
“No, you don’t understand. I’m on the roof waiting for you. Get up here. We need you back at Glasdorf.”
All right. This was obviously not something to ignore. “Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll meet you on the roof in a second.”
Kiana leaned down to pick up her glasses, refusing to make eye contact.
“I have to go right now. There’s some sort of emergency at home,” he said.
She looked up, confusion clouding her face.
“I hope everyone is okay. What’s happening?” she asked with concern.
“I honestly don’t know. Let me take care of this, and I’ll call you tomorrow to make plans. You are not worming out of our date.” He leaned forward to sneak in one last kiss of her luscious lips, catching her off guard before she could protest. He had no idea what was going on in Glasdorf, but it must have been pretty damned bad for his assistant to call. He’d take care of it ASAP and then return to Kiana. He desperately wanted to finish what they’d started, and he wasn’t going to let her escape him again.
“Boris, I’m on my way.” He glanced over his shoulder one last time as he hustled down the hall. Kiana was still standing there, watching him, with a confused look on her face. Damn, he wished he didn’t have to leave so abruptly. He turned the corner and jabbed the elevator button.
“Hey, Boss. Any reason why I’m hearing ukulele music?”
Oskar laughed. “No freakin’ idea.”
Kiana slammed the apartment door behind her.
What was she thinking?
Every time Oskar’s lips got anywhere near her, her resolutions turned to mush. Her immediate and intense physical response to him was beyond mortifying. She’d forgotten they were in a public place, forgotten her pledge to keep her distance. She glanced down at her hands. They were still trembling. She had never been so overtly passionate in her life.
God, she loved the feel of his mouth on her neck, his massive body rocking against her, his huge hands squeezing her bottom. She wondered how incredible it would feel to have her bare skin against his—Oskar’s rock hard, tattooed body rubbing all over her. She glimpsed her reflection in the entryway mirror and saw love bites on her neck. Oh great! Now everyone will know what a wanton hussy you are!
She buried her face in her hands. Obviously, this was the direct result of six years of self-imposed celibacy. Tom had squashed any libidinous impulses right out of her after his betrayal. But Oskar Klaus had switched them back on with a vengeance. That “quick cup of coffee,” which had turned into a meal at Café Pho, was a huge mistake. The more she learned about Oskar Klaus, the more she liked him. It was putting her into a dangerous and vulnerable situation.
Why would he choose her when he had his pick of gorgeous supermodels? She didn’t have a clue. Maybe he thought a librarian would be a challenge. The ugly clothes and glasses hadn’t deterred him in the slightest. Or maybe, just maybe, he genuinely liked her. That was the scariest thought of all.
She noticed a note taped to the mirror frame. Ran out for a quick bite. Be home in a couple of hours! Love ya, Trish
Oh well, the movie would have to wait. She tossed her purse on the hallway table and a snippet of Oskar’s phone conversation came floating back. I’ll meet you on the roof in a second. She must have misheard. He couldn’t possibly mean the roof on top of their building. He had seemed pretty shaken up by his phone call, and she could tell he was reluctant to leave her.
Was he really meeting someone on the roof? Someone named Boris? It seemed highly improbable, but Kiana’s curiosity was piqued.
What could it hurt to do a quick check?
She opened her apartment door and peered down the hallway. All clear. She walked to the end of the corridor and pushed open the door to the roof. In the summer, the tenants enjoyed a beautiful rooftop garden and outdoor café, but in the winter time that area was supposed to be off limits. Covered with ice and snow, it posed a danger to anyone foolish enough to explore.
The heavy metal door to the roof creaked open reluctantly against the bitter wind. Kiana shut it behind her, making sure it was unlocked. She pulled her coat tightly around her and ventured out to the garden area. Brown shriveled plants huddled under the snow, drooping with the added weight. An eerie whistling wind darted across the raised beds. I obviously misheard that conversation. There’s no one here.
Just as she turned to head back downstairs, a flash of light caught her eye. Something jutting beyond the rose trellis sparkled in the frigid air. She carefully made her way to the opposite side of the roof, her feet crunching on the icy concrete. She peeked around the corner of the trellis and her jaw dropped.
It was a sleigh—on the roof.
An old, beat up sleigh as big as a truck, covered with dings and dents, scuff marks and torn stickers. She inched closer and touched it, just to assure herself she was not hallucinating. Bumper stickers covered the sides and back of the dingy white vehicle. Most advertised snowboarding companies, ski resorts and surf shops. Kiana shook her head in disbelief. She peered inside the sleigh. Heaps of old candy wrappers and books littered the interior. An impressive looking dashboard, which reminded her of an airplane control panel, housed numerous buttons, technical looking devices and a built-in sound system. She sniffed and realized she could smell cigar smoke.
O-kay. There is a sleigh on the roof of my apartment building. A bizarre sleigh that looks like a cross between a beater car and a space ship. This makes absolutely no sense. Maybe her landlord was storing this here for a holiday decoration. Something for a float in the Macy’s parade? She honestly could not come up with any plausible explanation.
A whoosh of sparkling lights suddenly rushed from the sleigh, whizzed around her body, then flew along the blades, making a strange… giggling sound? She took a step back, startled. The lights on the dashboard burst to life, glowing and buzzing within the vehicle, and Kiana caught her breath. She had no idea what was going on, but she had every intention of running back to her apartment, making a cup of tea, and huddling under a blanket until Trish got home. This was way too weird for her.
Before she had a chance to flee, she heard voices coming from the opposite side of the roof.
“No one knows how it started. But it got out of control pretty damned quick. Good thing it didn’t happen during Christmas week or someone could’ve gotten hurt.”
“I don’t remember ever having something like this happen in Glasdorf. It’s usually so quiet after the big holiday. Has the Council started an investigation?”
Kiana recognized Oskar’s deep voice.
“Not yet. They’re waiting for you. Want you to head up the inquiry. I don’t think the Council thinks this was an accident, O.” The rough voice that answered was high-pitched and ragged.
“Dammit. The timing couldn’t be wor
se,” Oskar said.
“What? Party time with some models is now taking precedence over your responsibilities in Glasdorf? Don’t make me kick your arse, boy,” came the disgruntled response.
“That’s boss to you, little man.” Oskar cursed. “You don’t understand. I met a woman last night…”
“Ahhh. I don’t want to hear about it.”
“Not like that, Boris. I really like her. Seriously.”
There was a pause in the conversation and Kiana leaned forward to catch the rest.
“Well, you don’t say. Sorry, son, but she’s gonna have to wait. There’s a charred theater in Glasdorf and we don’t want any deranged arsonists running around, burning Santa’s castle to the ground now, do we?”
Oskar released a heavy sigh. “Damn it. I’ll have to call her tomorrow. Just get the sleigh fired up so we can head out in about five. I’m gonna let Gregor know what’s going on.”
She heard the muffled sound of another door closing, and then the crunch of footsteps on the ice. Panicked, she crouched behind the sleigh. She peeked under the bottom and two miniature feet appeared in her line of vision. In red boots, topped with bells. For one moment, she felt a gurgle of hysterical laughter bubbling up inside of her, but she tamped it down as the feet began to move around the side of the vehicle. Closer to her.
“Ack. Damned piece o’ shite!” One of the boots kicked the side of the sleigh as a rattling sound popped from the engine.
Through a skinny sliver open in the back seat, Kiana finally caught sight of the voice’s owner. Her vision got murky.
Standing on her rooftop, next to a beater sleigh, was an elf.
A real, honest-to-God elf. He wore flannel coveralls, a jean jacket, and had a cigar hanging out of his mouth. A large chunk of ash fell into his long, scraggly beard. Twitching pointed ears poked out from a nubby knit cap, and the bells on his shoes jingled with each step.
Kiana’s entire body started to tremble. She was having trouble catching her breath.
The tiny man crawled into the sleigh, cursed and flung things around. “Ahh. There we go. A wrench ought to fix this baby up good and tight.” The two little boots jumped down to the ground and started to work their way around the side, heading straight to her hiding spot. She gasped and searched for a place to disappear. Right in front of her was some sort of trunk. She quietly opened the rusty door.
Stacks of snowboards were crammed inside, but there was still enough room for her in the cavernous space. She crawled inside as her body started to shiver uncontrollably. The trunk door clicked shut behind her just as the little man came around to the back and whacked at something on the engine.
“Okay, Boris, let’s head out!”
She barely heard Oskar’s voice over the keening wind.
“Sure, Boss, she’s ready now.”
A roar filled her ears, and the sleigh shimmied. Kiana began to shake violently as she felt the vehicle levitate. She tumbled over and smacked against the other end of the trunk as the sleigh accelerated.
What is going on?
She had no idea how it was happening, but somehow the sleigh was moving. Rapidly.
Kiana curled up in a ball, trying to ward off the cold and fear, but it was no use. A foreboding chill stole over her body right before she lost consciousness. Her last coherent thought was…
Santa’s castle? But I thought Santa wasn’t real.
“I’m man enough to admit this place scares the holy Hell out of me.” Loki stared up at the Bibliothek Magik and quivered. “I sure hope you know what you’re doing, Ingo.”
Hie nodded. “It’s been a long time since our schooling days, friend. Do you still remember all your Bändiger lessons?”
Ingo raised his eyes to the towering building. Green and yellow lichens crisscrossed the walls in a formidable pattern. Smoke belched out of chimneys scattered across the steep rooftop. He sighed in resignation. “Don’t worry. Some things you never forget.” He swallowed uncomfortably and reached for the brass handle of the massive front door. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
As Ingo touched the claw-shaped knob, he was aware of two things simultaneously. One, the handle—which should have been freezing cold—was pulsing with heat, and two, it seemed to reach out and shake his hand. It took every ounce of willpower not to scream like a girl and jump back. The claw released him and the door opened of its own volition.
Hie shook his head. “All right. I’m officially creeped out and we haven’t even stepped a foot inside. You’d better be quick about this.”
Ingo and his friends walked into the foyer and the massive door slammed shut behind them, stirring up dust in the darkened interior.
“Leicht!” Ingo called out, and at once hundreds of sconces on the walls burst into flame.
Loki laughed. “Well, that’s sort of cool.” He rubbed his hands together. “How about asking for some heat, too?”
Ingo swept his arm to the side and spoke in a hushed tone. “Wärme.” The walls grumbled. “Jetzt!” he commanded. A jet of warm air flowed into the room.
Ingo nodded to his friends. “If I remember correctly, the room we need is at the end of this hallway. Sometimes there’s a librarian to help, and sometimes not. Let’s see if anyone is here today.”
The three elves shuffled along the stone floor, gazing at the bizarre artwork on the walls. Portraits of Bändigers taunted them, laughing, coughing, rolling their eyes, with arms and legs kicking from the canvasses, desperate to escape.
Hie grabbed Ingo’s sleeve. “They can’t pull us in there, can they?” He pointed to a particularly irate portrait, reaching for them with his wrinkled hands jutting from the painting.
Ingo shook his head. “I don’t think so, but it’s probably not a bad idea to avoid his grasp. You might get a jolt of something.”
Hie and Loki followed Ingo single file the rest of the way, as the Bändiger cackled behind them.
Finally, they arrived at the Zauberzimmer, Room of Spells. Ingo took a deep breath and pushed open the door. A few ancient elves sat at tables scattered around the room. Rich Oriental carpets lined the floors and about a thousand clocks lined the walls. Clocks of every size, shape and color, telling time all over the earth—and beyond. The methodical ticking comforted Ingo, reminding him of long ago, when he embraced the magik and reveled in his talent.
“Well, well. Ingo Hertz. I have not seen you here for many years.” A stooped elf hobbled over to Ingo and clasped his forearms. “So good to see you, my friend.”
Ingo returned the greeting. “Master Ralf. It is good to see you, too. These are my friends Loki and Hieronymus.”
The old elf nodded to the others and gazed at Ingo with curiosity. “What brings you to the Bibliothek Magik today? Is there something I can help you with?”
Ingo cleared his throat. “Actually, yes, there is. I am looking for a book of reversal spells. Could you guide me in the right direction?”
“Of course. Of course. Which spell needs to be reversed?” Master Ralf started to cross the room to a darkened corner. Ingo noticed the cobwebs dancing in delight as though the ticking clocks were a musical metronome.
He scratched the top of his head. “The spell that needs to be reversed is Zottig Herz.”
Master Ralf stopped short and stared at Ingo. “I’m surprised at you, Bändiger. That’s not a spell to be taken lightly. Nor do I recall you troubling yourself with such nonsense in the past.”
Ingo reddened under Ralf’s disapproving glare. “I’m not proud of myself, Master. That’s why I’m here. Trying to undo an error of judgment.”
Ralf pursed his lips. “Well, Master Eugen would be surprised. He believes that elves should avoid interfering with the lives of Sudlanders. Best to let them muddle through their own affairs without our interference.”
Hieronymus put a comforting arm around Ingo’s shoulders. “Do not worry, Master Ralf. Ingo’s learned his lesson. He won’t be doing anything that foolish again.”
“We’ll be keeping him on the straight and narrow from now on,” Loki added.
Ralf smiled. “You’re lucky to have such good friends, Ingo.” He pointed to a section of the bookshelf. “It’s in there somewhere. Good luck. Unfortunately, the books don’t like to make it too easy on us, do they?” He chuckled at Loki and Hie’s puzzled expressions. “You two are probably not familiar with the magik texts. They are not static manuscripts, they like to change and jump around to torment us.”
Loki groaned and smacked his forehead. “Are you telling me those damn-blasted books are going to drive us batty? Now I remember why I failed Introductory Magik.”
Ingo laughed at Loki’s expression. “I’ve got it. I’m a Bändiger, remember. Just help me pile the books up on this table, and I’ll find the spell, even if she’s trying to hide from me, the little bugger.”
Hie and Loki pulled dozens of musty books from the shelf, flinging them to the table before the mischievous texts could snap at them. Ingo opened his mind to the magik, and it was instantly flooded with spells of every type… wishes for love, for wealth and power, for dreams of success. Some were monumental, some were silly and inconsequential. They raced back and forth, from one book to the next, goading Ingo. Challenging him to find the one he was looking for in the mountain of enchantments.
He released a long sigh, then plopped down in a chair. “Might as well get comfortable, this could take a while.”
Hieronymus and Loki located a chessboard and set it up on the table. The pieces were not cooperating very well and kept bouncing away.
Ingo whispered a spell to the misbehaving game and they suddenly lined up, ready to play.
Loki quirked a brow at Ingo. “I’ve never seen you use your talent before, friend. It’s sort of fascinating.”
“Ingo’s too modest to brag, but back in the day, he was Master Eugen’s pet. The old man wasn’t too thrilled when Ingo decided to become a wood worker,” Hie said.
Before Ingo could answer, an enormous explosion rocked the building. Waves of tension rolled off the walls, and the books began to squawk fiercely.