Moon Shimmers

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Moon Shimmers Page 3

by Yasmine Galenorn


  As Delilah and I reached the mayhem, Fry came running. She stopped a ways from the crowd and, holding her shotgun in the air, let go with a round.

  Oh, that would go over with Chase really well.

  “Order! I will have order!” Her voice thundered above the racket. For such a tiny woman, she had one hell of a bellow.

  I headed over to help Vanzir. He had positioned himself between the vroll and the crowd. The creature was studying him, cringing with fear, but also, a faint hint of curiosity.

  Vanzir glanced at me. “Still want me to drain him down?” The words were callous, but his tone was not.

  I hung my head. Truth was, I didn’t want anything of the sort. I was firmly in the camp of the vroll now. He had been woken up by idiots who couldn’t leave well enough alone, who just had to dabble with forces they knew nothing about. Now, he was just trying to find a safe place to live out the rest of whatever life he had.

  “Yeah,” I whispered. “I guess we don’t have any choice. I thought I could lure him over beyond that wall, but it would just be a matter of time till someone else found him and tried the same thing. I wish we could lure him out to Smoky’s barrow, but I don’t think there’s any way we could.”

  “I think you’re right. Don’t blame yourself, babe. He just doesn’t fit in this world anymore.” And with that, Vanzir turned to the creature and held out his hands. Glowing neon-colored tubes emerged from his palms and sunk into the translucent figure of the vroll. The creature stiffened, then relaxed. “I’m making this as comfortable as I can. Trust me, there isn’t much life energy left in this one. He’ll fade out fast and without pain.”

  Grateful that Vanzir actually understood, I watched, feeling that somebody ought to stand vigil over the last moments of this creature’s life. Trolls were big and stupid and dangerous, true. But this one had managed to live for a long, long time, into the modern world. And now, the vroll would vanish, a frightened shell of what he had once been.

  Vanzir’s head dropped back and his eyes closed as he drank in the flow of life force. The look on his face was almost beatific, he was so immersed in the communion as he drained the vroll dry. There was something different, though, from the times I had seen him drain our enemies. Instead of struggling, the vroll was curled on the ground, looking for all the world as though he had fallen asleep. He was calm, perhaps for the first time since the idiots had woken him up. Vanzir was singing him to sleep for the last time, in his own, twisted way.

  I wasn’t going to cry, I told myself. But the tears on my cheeks still trickled down and I finally just let them fall. We had seen so much death over the past few years, had experienced so much collateral damage, and I had managed to remain strong. I had been tortured and beaten by my father-in-law and I had managed to remain strong. I had watched friends die and managed to remain strong. And I had escaped as a city fell beneath the siege of a sentient storm and managed to remain strong. Yet here, in a park at a midnight wedding, a vroll’s death threatened to sweep me under.

  Before I realized he was by my side, Smoky wrapped an arm around my waist and leaned down to kiss my head.

  “I wish it could be otherwise,” he said in that silken voice of his. “But love, when someone cannot adapt to the tides of change, they are best off in the past, where they don’t have to struggle or fear. Even if you had been able to save that creature, there would be no place he’d feel truly safe. The vroll is only a shell of what he was. He’s the last remnants of fear left behind. This is a kindness. He’ll go to whatever afterlife awaits a troll.”

  I knew he was right. I had said the same thing more than once, in similar situations.

  “I don’t know why this one hit me so hard. I think…he seemed so childlike. Yes, we were fighting him, but then when I understood what had happened…” I paused. Maybe that was what had hit me hardest. Not that we had to send the vroll to his death, but that someone else had given us no choice. “Whoever woke him up—they’re the ones I’m angry at. They meddled where they shouldn’t. They didn’t think of the ramifications of what they did. They just waltzed in there, deciding Oh, wow, let’s contact this spirit, without even thinking what might happen.”

  Smoky pressed his hand against my lower back, his fingers touching the skin beneath the laces of my corset. His fingers worked like fire, sparking me off.

  “You know as well as I do that most people—humans, Fae, even dragons—don’t usually stop to think out all scenarios. Nothing would ever get done if people were that hesitant. I think this goes deeper, my love. I think you’re just anticipating the changes coming up in your life, and you’re scared, and projecting that anxiety. Truly, this vroll…if he was still in full form, still a troll, you’d be fighting to kill him, wouldn’t you?”

  I frowned, not wanting to face the reality that he was steering me toward. “Well, yes.”

  “You wouldn’t feel sorry for him, would you?”

  Again, I kicked the ground in front of me. “No.”

  “Then face it, you’re not sorry for the vroll. You’re feeling melancholy because of your own life. Granted, it’s a sad thing that his spirit couldn’t rest easy, but if you let him be, he’d blunder around and destroy everyone and everything he came across because of his fear.”

  Smoky swept me up in his arms then, a gentle smirk on his face, his ice blue eyes twinkling with just a hint of amusement. “Face it, my Witchling. Because you’re heading square center toward a destiny you never expected, you’re feeling trapped and afraid. Hush,” he added as I started to protest. “You and I both know this is the path you need to take. I didn’t say otherwise. But you’re still rebellious enough to wish you had the option to choose.”

  A thud in the pit of my stomach told me he was right. Feeling almost ashamed—maybe I really didn’t care much about the life of a troll, given how much carnage most of them managed to wreak—I rested my head against his chest.

  “You’re right. I know that moving out to Talamh Lonrach Oll, joining Titania and Aeval in the Barrows, taking the crown that belonged to Morgaine—this is what I need to do. But damn it, can’t I at least have the option of saying, ‘Yeah, sure, I will do this’ instead of it all just being thrust on me? I want some say in my life, damn it!” I usually loved it when Smoky held me in his arms, but right now, it just irritated me. “Put me down, you big lug. I love you, but I don’t need to be carried right now. I want to stand on my own two feet.”

  He laughed as he set me down. “You always stand on your own two feet, love. No matter who might be holding you at the moment, you’re always there on your own terms. And regardless of the situation, regardless of whether I—or anybody else—is there to help, you’ll always take the helm. As for the crown, you may have not been given a choice, but you’ve told me time and again that you are your father’s daughter. A soldier’s daughter. I know you well enough by now to know that you’ll carry through with your duties, and you’ll perform them better than anybody else could. Your sense of honor is one of your best qualities, my love.”

  I stared up at him, mulling over his words. I could continue griping, continue letting my nerves get the better of me, or I could suck it up, move on, and make the best of the situation. I could let myself enjoy it and kick fear to the door.

  Vanzir let out a faint noise and I turned. The troll spirit was fading from view, and within the next moment, he was gone. I exhaled, feeling the fear that had been coiled in my heart vanish with my breath.

  Menolly was still trying to calm people, but they weren’t listening. We were dealing with a conservative group, led by someone who hated our kind and actively worked against us. And he wasn’t letting the opportunity go by.

  Steven Trentallon, the new star reporter of the Seattle Tattler—a yellow rag if there ever was one—was taking pictures of Menolly. I laughed. If he expected those photos to do him any good, he’d be mighty surprised. Vampires couldn’t be photographed, but apparently he had forgotten that litt
le fact.

  Delilah was talking to Brandon Rigal, who was flailing his arms around. She was trying to calm him down, but it obviously wasn’t working. Fry joined her, but Rigal wasn’t listening to her either.

  “Come on,” I said. “We’d better get over there and sort out what’s going on. Rigal is the lawyer who defends the Freedom’s Angels and the Guardian Watchdogs. He’s not going to let this one pass and he’ll find some way to turn it back onto us that his daughter’s wedding day was ruined.”

  “We saved their lives,” Smoky said, straightening his duster. He was spiffy clean—and he never got dirty. Dirt vanished off him faster than rats deserting a sinking ship.

  “Be that as it may, Rigal’s going to find some way to pin the blame on us.” I headed across the grass. Smoky and Vanzir followed.

  Delilah was fuming. “Listen to me. We saved your asses tonight. How can you be such an idiot?”

  Uh-oh. When Delilah called someone an idiot to his face, I knew it was bad. She was the gentlest of the three of us, and she never went off half-cocked. Well…seldom.

  “Your kind is the reason this happened in the first place. Nobody ever had a problem till you came through the portals and stirred up all this crap. The Supes who were already here knew better than to make waves or show themselves. You brought everything to the surface. You made it acceptable for the demons of this world to step out into the light. It’s past time someone did something about this. Time to send you home where you belong.” Rigal’s voice was filled with veiled threats. He wasn’t shouting, he wasn’t railing against the wind…just speaking with calm, cold precision.

  I stared at him for a moment. He wasn’t a tiger, ready to pounce. No, this man was more of a snake, coiling back, watching for just the right moment to strike. Brandon Rigal was dangerous and he was going to make waves. That much I could foresee.

  “Delilah, don’t bother.” I stepped up beside her, and Smoky followed. Menolly had joined Vanzir, standing a few yards away. The cops were reassuring people and making sure nobody had been injured. I turned to the lawyer.

  “We saved your life. We could have just let the creature rampage through your daughter’s wedding. And for your information, as best as we can figure, the vroll woke up because of humans—probably teenagers, screwing around. So put your blame where it belongs and be grateful your daughter’s alive and in one piece and can go on with her wedding. You could have easily found yourself at a funeral tonight.”

  And with that, I took Delilah’s arm and turned away. The others followed us.

  “You’ll be getting the bill for the damage!” Rigal called from behind us.

  “Good luck with that.” Keeping my voice just low enough for the others to hear, I added, “He can kiss my ass.”

  Delilah let out a snort. “I bet he’d like to. Men like that usually hate what they can’t have. But do you think he’ll really sue us?”

  “He can try but I doubt if he’s got much of a leg to stand on. But don’t underestimate him. He’s a good lawyer. Doesn’t matter, though. I doubt if the damage adds up to much and nobody was hurt, so they can’t claim injury.”

  As we headed back to the patrol cars, I tried not to think about what the morning headlines would say. With Steve Trentallon there, chances were good there would be a full-scale hate piece in the Tattler the next day and that would spur on a new round of pickets at every store owned by a Supe. Luckily, the All Worlds United in Peace organization would be out to counter-protest. They were an offshoot of the United Worlds Church, and had grown to include a number of the local churches, temples, and mosques, as well as other pro-environment, pro-unification organizations.

  Delilah must have been thinking along the same lines because she said, “I should contact Neely and ask her how things are going. We haven’t had much chance to do anything but sort out the aftermath of Menolly’s trip to the Sub-Realms.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I glanced over at Menolly, who was walking silently beside Vanzir. Her trip into the Subterranean Realms to rescue her wife had left her shaken and a lot quieter than normal. I wasn’t sure what had shifted, but ever since then she seemed more thoughtful and less prone to fly off the handle. Maybe it was the fact that we were finally one-up on Shadow Wing, the demon lord. Or maybe it was just the realization of how close she had come to losing what was most precious in her life, but there had been a subtle change in her nature.

  I glanced up at Smoky as a tendril of his hair looped up and around my shoulder. A dragon’s hair had a life of its own and the tendrils could maneuver around like an arm and hand.

  “Yes, love?”

  “Just happy to be with you,” he said.

  I leaned against him, resting my head against his shoulder. As we approached the patrol cars, Smoky said, “Vanzir and I will go back through the Ionyc Sea. You girls drive home together.”

  “All right. We’ll see you there.”

  He wrapped his arms around me, lifting me off my feet to meet his lips, his hair billowing around him like a cloak caught by the breeze. “Don’t be long,” he murmured.

  “I won’t,” I whispered, wanting him more than ever.

  BY THE TIME we found my shoes and reached home, it was nearing midnight. As we pulled into the driveway, I saw the lights were still on. That was nothing new, given how many people lived in the old three-story Victorian. Weathered and from another era, still the house stood strong. Thanks to the men, it was in good condition—freshly painted, and any damage was always immediately repaired. We had bought the mansion when we first came over Earthside, with money that our mother had put aside for us when we were young. It had grown over the years. She had opened bank accounts for us, gotten Social Security numbers for us long before Earthside knew about Otherworld, all on the chance that we would one day want to visit her homeworld.

  The house sat on five acres originally, but thanks to Smoky’s purse and his good will, we now owned almost ten more—four acres of wetlands, five acres of usable land, and Birchwater Pond. Otherworld had once been my home, and still was to some extent, but this house signified home to me. And within a couple weeks, I was going to have to leave it. I caught my breath, worrying my lip. I wasn’t the only one facing a move.

  Menolly and Nerissa would be going to live with Roman in his mansion. Delilah would stay here with Shade and Rozurial—one of our companions and a member of our extended family. And she would keep Maggie with her.

  The thought of leaving Maggie was harder than anything else. I had found the baby calico gargoyle a few years back. She had been destined to be a harpy’s lunch, but I had managed to save her and she was like the little sister we all doted on. A woodland gargoyle, she would grow slowly. She wouldn’t even be out of the toddler stage for another fifty or sixty years. We all agreed that the Barrows weren’t the ideal place for her, and neither was a vampire’s lair, so that left Delilah to take over as her mother.

  As we headed to the house my mood slipped deeper into a mire. Trying to shake it off, I paused for a moment by my herb garden, which was to the left in the front yard. I knelt, running my fingers over the spearmint, crushing a leaf under my nose to release the vibrant, sharp scent. Mint was soothing. It refreshed the mind, and I had been cultivating a particularly concentrated strain. My tears backtracked as the fragrance cleared my sinuses and washed over me with a calming effect.

  “Coming?” Delilah called.

  “I’ll be right there.” I broke off a couple of stems of the mint for some fresh tea and headed up the stairs.

  As we entered the house, I could tell something was up. This wasn’t a typical Thursday night. For one thing, Iris and Bruce were both at the table. Everybody else was awake and gathered in the kitchen, as well. Nerissa and Roz were poring over a sheath of papers, and Hanna—our housekeeper—was holding Maggie, who was sucking her thumb. Chase had arrived before we had, and he was frowning as he leaned over Nerissa’s shoulder, reading the page she was holding. Trillia
n and Morio were spreading out maps on the kitchen table.

  “What’s up?” I shrugged out of my jacket and hung it and my purse on one of the hooks next to the hall closet in the foyer.

  “Trenyth called from the Whispering Mirror,” Nerissa said, looking up as we entered the kitchen. “I took the call.”

  The Whispering Mirror had been a gift from the OIA when we first came Earthside, which we had modified to our own use. It was a device that allowed us to communicate with Otherworld. It was set to connect with Elqaneve—the Elfin city. We had worked with the Elfin techno-mages to modify the mirror so that we could connect with the bureau back home in OW. Voice activated, the mirror’s settings were modulated so that only those with permission could take or send calls. At this point, everybody who lived on our land had that capability.

  I leaned over Morio’s shoulder. “Maps?”

  “Yeah, maps.” Morio looked up to give me a quick kiss on the cheek, then went back to poring over an area that looked to be up north a ways from Seattle.

  Trillian wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed me on the forehead. “Brace yourselves for big news. Have a seat.”

  Hanna brought over several pots of rustlewood tea—a specialty from Otherworld—and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. “You’ll be wanting this.”

  “What’s going on?” I lowered myself into one of the chairs, and Delilah followed suit. Menolly joined us after getting a bottle of blood from the fridge, which she warmed in the microwave. It smelled like hot chocolate, and tasted like it, thanks to Morio, who had figured out how to charm the bottled animal blood into other flavors for her.

  We gathered at the massive oak table that could seat twelve comfortably, fifteen if we scooched in, and every meal that we could. We also used it for war meetings.

 

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