by Martha Carr
Correk folded his arms across his chest. “Tell me about the Jaspar Elves.”
“I will answer your question, mostly because you won’t be able to focus until I do but it’s the last one today. I asked you here to discuss something else that is more important.” Turner easily made his way up the stone steps to the patio, tapping his cane on each step. “Take a seat.” He slowly lowered himself down into one of the wrought iron chairs around the large glass-topped table and settled back, adjusting his coat. “Where to start, exactly?”
Correk sat down across the table from him as the troll jumped out of his pocket and down his leg, scampering across the lawn to investigate the bushes. Turner smiled broadly as he watched, balancing his hands on his cane. “Some of the smartest creatures… Some would say smarter than an Elf.” Turner Underwood jabbed at the air letting out a hearty laugh, but he could see Correk was not in the mood. He arched an eyebrow and started into the story again. “I suppose I could tell you about the times when Jaspar Elves were more common.”
“I’m only interested in the parts that affect Leira.”
Turner shut his eyes, nodding his head. “A good sign for our eventual conversation. Fine, I will cut to the chase, then.” His deep-set eyes opened slowly as they narrowed, studying Correk as he talked. “Magic is another name for energy. It’s like electricity in this world. It’s unseen and all around us, all at once.” He waved his hand in the air, dragging streams of colored light that formed into different shapes of dragons, pixies and trolls, scattering into sparks that floated up into the sky. “It isn’t until someone can harness it that things change.” He formed a ball of light in his hands and reshaped it like a pillow, sliding the light behind his back.
“A first-year child on Oriceran knows all of this.” Correk was growing irritated and his eyes glowed momentarily as the old injury sent an ache through his body.
“Don’t interrupt a fucking old Elf. I’ll tell the tale the way I want to, Correk. You came to me for answers. Try trusting that I know how to set the truth free. Where was I? Ah yes, the energy of it all. Magical beings are all like the hose from a garden. Energy passes through us but isn’t ours to keep for very long. Some beings can let more energy pass though and others are better at manipulating the hell out of what is available to them. But not one of them ever merges with the energy. Turn it off and you are back to your regular self. You see it now, right? That comparison to electricity was necessary.”
Correk gave him a hard stare, waiting for the next part of the story. His lips were pressed together in a thin, determined line.
Turner tapped his cane hard on the grey slate in frustration. “Do not act as if this is a crisis, Elf! It’s a sure way to cause harm. There is always time to pause and think before you act. Always.”
Correk bristled and snapped, “I did what had to be done against Rhazdon.”
“I would agree. Again, you assume without gathering information. There is a lot for you to learn, still. But first, let me finish answering your one question,” Turner said, pointedly.
The troll suddenly rolled swiftly out from under a bush covered in peat moss as a mouse peeked out from the rhododendrons and just as quickly disappeared again. The troll let out a cackle and set off to follow it.
“Jaspar Elves are the same as any other magical being. They don’t absorb magic, but they can channel a far larger quantity and are very clever at bending the shit out of it. I long suspected Jackson was really at least part Jaspar. Damn clever of him to keep it quiet by living in humble surroundings. There’s far more he could do if he ever chose to.”
“Says even more about him that with all his gifts he chose to be a scavenger.”
“Just one more of nature’s recyclers.” Turner held his arm out wide. “Another clever ruse. His ability to detect the more powerful artifacts would be even more keen than even your own skill set. Yes, it’s true. Get your fucking hackles up if you need to, won’t change a thing. You might miss a detail like that, but he wouldn’t. Sometimes I wonder what’s buried out at that cabin in the woods. But, that’s another day. He’s even been able to teach a lot of his finer skills to his young protege, Louie. Be glad he’s on our side now. That young Wizard has some mad skills. Alright, I’ll get on with it but patience will be required of you in the coming days, mark my words. Leira brings an ancient spark of humanity into the mix and this combination is even more rare than a Jaspar Elf. It was rare even back then and…”
Turner hesitated, letting out a gruff cough and clearing his throat. “There are no stories of anyone living to be an old Elf like myself who had the combination but…” He held up his hand to stop Correk. “There’s also a good reason why that might be. A wise parent would have hidden the child and spirited them away. It’s the same way that the few remaining Jaspar Elves have managed to live amongst the Oricerans peacefully. It’s possible…”
“But not likely.” Correk finished the sentence for him. “The power got away from them at an accelerated speed, didn’t it?”
“Most likely. The light drew them in until they merged with it. That’s the point of this tale. The combination of that spark of humanity means that Leira doesn’t just take energy in and then let it go. She is slowly becoming one with it. Her very being is becoming a vessel for the magic.”
The color drained from Correk’s face as his eyes widened. “You’re saying she’s becoming a living artifact.” He gripped the sides of his chair.
Turner nodded his head. “The most powerful kind either world has ever known, if she survives the transformation. That would be the tricky part. The unknown element.”
“How fast does all of this happen?”
Turner’s bushy eyebrows shot up as he wrinkled his forehead. “More unknowns. But Leira doesn’t have an illness. She’s not sick. Don’t take that attitude. It won’t help her.”
“Is there a possibility we can stop the melding from happening?”
“I’m going to say with some confidence… No. That should not be our goal, anyway.”
Correk pushed back the chair abruptly, scraping it along the slate. The troll emerged from the middle of a bush, looking around for trouble. He took a seat on the end of a twig and kept watch, sensing the tension in the air.
Turner tapped his cane hard again. “I didn’t say that meant the end of Leira,” he said, tersely. “Sit down and pay attention. We are after a different goal. To guide Leira so that she can become the conductor of the energy on a level we have never seen before. I tell you, it has to be possible,” he said in a hushed tone.
“How can you say that?” Correk spit out the words, pounding his fist on the glass, rattling the table.
“Because Leira exists and therefore all things are possible, including a good outcome. But only if we focus on it to the obliteration of any other ideas. We must, or we are certain to fail. We must be sure that every decision we make is aimed at succeeding and not at preventing failure.”
“There’s the slimmest of differences.”
“True but it will make winning this campaign possible. You had best decide right now if you have what it takes to see this all the way through.”
Correk’s brows knit together as a spidery trail of anger crept back up his spine, lighting up the symbols on his arms. “I think I’ve already proven that.”
“This venture will take even more than what you have already sacrificed because it will take time and require restraint and the hardest of all, exactly what I’ve said all along. Belief in a good outcome.” He pointed his finger at Correk, his gold cufflink twinkling in the last of the light. “It will shade what we do by the thinnest of margins but could be what changes everything.”
“I understand what you’re saying, you know. I won’t be able to rescue her. Not again. In the end the choice will be Leira’s.”
“But we can teach her balance in the meantime. Don’t underestimate the power of a guide. Her father will be of use as well. He may hold small details to what it’s like
to actually be a Jaspar Elf that could prove crucial.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Not a requirement. Let it go and focus. There’s something else that’s interesting about Leira. There’s a measure of belief inside of her already that acts like a compass. It’s built into her and even after everything she’s been through, it’s still there. A most remarkable and extraordinary thing.”
“Is that part of being a Jaspar Elf?
“Does her father strike you as having that same quality?” Turner shook his head with a laugh. “No, not to me either. It’s not part of that spark she was given in her DNA, either. Made her a great detective, even without any abilities and is serving her well as an agent. Leira innately believes a solution exists. I feel very good about all of this. Yes, indeed I do. Now settle in, we have something else we need to discuss and it’s time we got to it.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Charlie Monaghan showed up thirty minutes early to Kellari Taverna to stake out a table and take a seat facing the entrance. The restaurant was convenient for meetings at the White House less than a mile away and featured some of the best seafood in Washington. It was located on K Street along the power corridor and was already filling up with lobbyists with toothy smiles rubbing elbows with aides to Senators and Congressmen chatting up their cause. Charlie loved taking in the atmosphere as he laid a cream-colored cloth napkin across his lap.
So close… push a little harder. You want to win, don’t you? The buzzing, crackling voice in Charlie’s head made it hard to hear anyone else at times. It whispered to him, encouraging him to work the angles even more than he was used to doing. There were actually lines even Charlie wouldn’t cross but it was all getting blurry and he found himself arguing out loud in the car or the shower. His wife even caught him shouting angrily at the yogurt in the refrigerator, tightly gripping the door. He came back from the moment feeling like he had been somewhere else and wasn’t even sure how long he had been gone.
The same feeling was coming over him as the fast-moving waiters and chatting diners began to fade, and he listened to the crackling hum. No one means what they say. Have to be careful. Protect yourself at all times. Or else… An inky blackness crept into the irises of his eyes, momentarily dotting out the honey brown color as Charlie was lost in a swirl of anger, reliving every slight he’d ever felt.
“Charlie, good to see you! I see you got us a great table.” The Senator from Oregon gave a large grin as he turned and waved at different familiar faces, letting everyone know he was in the restaurant. He clapped Charlie on the shoulder shaking him out of his dark reverie, too busy giving a wink and a nod to the Senator from Maine at another table to notice the look in Charlie’s eyes. He took a seat opposite Charlie and settled in, laying the napkin across his lap. “Just coffee, please. Long work day still ahead, of course.”
Charlie felt the rush of adrenaline subside inside of him, his heart slowing down just enough to get a clear thought. He blinked hard a few times and wiped the sweat off his lip with his napkin, forcing a smile as he put out his hand. He was back in the restaurant, a slight film of panic roiling around in his gut, as he wondered how long he had checked out this time. It’s getting worse. “Senator Bleeden, so glad you could make it.”
An elderly man with a slight stoop wearing a dark grey pinstripe suit and blue silk tie came through the crowd, shaking hands as he went and resting a heavy hand on the occasional shoulder leaning over to whisper something conspiratorially. The top of his head caught the light from the oversized, round chandeliers overhead, shining through the thinning silver hair neatly combed over to one side and trimmed just above his ears. Senator Thatcher made his way to the table back by the wall, making a point not to look at who he was meeting until he was almost on top of them. “Charlie Monaghan, glad I could find the time! Senator Bleeden.” He nodded his head, keeping the smile on his face but the warm sentiment failed to make it all the way to his eyes.
“Nice to see one of our senior statesman.” Senator Bleeden made a point of rising halfway and pulling out the elderly Senator’s seat partway as he sat back down. It was all a show put on for each other and anyone else who might care enough to watch. Courtly manners as entertainment so they could settle in and get down to business.
Charlie watched it all unfold, waiting for the maneuvering to be finished. He had seen it played out a thousand times before and even on a good day only reluctantly played along. Today he wasn’t in the mood to do more than give his signature smile, showing his even, white teeth. The waiter came brushing by their table as Charlie quickly glanced up and gave a gentle shake to his head. “Not yet, we have a few things to discuss. Bring these gentlemen their usual. We’ll let you know when we’re ready for more.”
“The coffee’s enough for me, Charlie.”
“Nonsense. This is an important day. We can celebrate a little. Surely you already know how you’re going to vote and both of you have drivers waiting for you to take you back to the Hill.” The smile slipped off Charlie’s face for a moment as he felt a twinge from somewhere deep inside. “Fortify yourselves.” The smile returned to his face as he took a sip of the bourbon served neat. “Are we all in agreement on that vote, gentlemen?” He dropped his voice to just above a whisper, lifting his glass to take another sip.
Senator Bleeden waited for the waiter to put the crystal glass with gin and tonic firmly on the table before he raised it, his hand shaking making the ice cubes clink. He took a large swallow, grimacing from the cold temperature against his teeth and set the glass back down. “I don’t see why not, Charlie. Makes good sense. If Axiom finds an artifact first, they should have the right to use it as they see fit.”
“As long as it doesn’t run contrary to American interests,” Senator Thatcher quickly added, drumming his fingers on the table. It irritated Charlie that the Senator was always looking for loopholes to be used later at his convenience. Not to be trusted, not this one.
“Of course, goes without saying. We could even talk about leasing the rights to some of the artifacts for government use if the need arose. A new kind of defense contract or even do some good works if one of them turns out to cure something or make something grow faster.” Charlie waved his hand impatiently. The memory of his loss in the last boardroom meeting to Pearson Cowley slithered into his mind like white smoke filling every corner. He looked at Senator Thatcher, barely containing a sneer. “So we have the necessary votes?” He glanced down at his watch.
Senator Bleeden cleared his throat. “We do, enough with the games. Plain and simple, we do. You’ve been a gracious and generous host for some years now and it’s noted and greatly appreciated. I would ask that you keep the mayhem to a minimum when discovering these artifacts or that could become an issue.”
“It’s in our best interests as well to get in and get out as cleanly as possible. Does this mean the government will back off their own excavations?”
Senator Bleeden let out a deep-throated chuckle. “Oh no, not at all. I appreciate your asking for the moon, Charlie. Be glad you got hold of a few stars. Our government has its own plans. Don’t ask me about them…” The Senator raised a wrinkled hand, the knuckles knobby and twisted. “Goes even above my pay grade. You may run into them out there.”
Senator Thatcher shifted uncomfortably in his seat as his junior colleague glanced sideways at him.
“You should drink down that liquid courage, Senator Thatcher. Be mindful when you’re out there, Charlie. You harm a government employee and the world hears about it and it will be more difficult to protect you from the slings and arrows of the public. And when they gather together in sufficient numbers they can actually wound.”
“Understood. Our teams have their instructions to be as circumspect as they can. They will not start anything…”
Senator Thatcher looked like he wanted to add something to the conversation but thought better of it.
“Good,” said Senator Bleeden, “then I’ll have the Lavraki a
nd we can talk about the dinner Axiom is hosting for me.” A waiter appeared at his side as he lifted the menu. “We can celebrate everyone’s success in this new age of magic.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Leira pulled up in front of Estelle’s and easily slid into the spot just in front of the gate. Jackson loosened his grip on the dashboard and shifted in the seat, clearing his throat.
“You played on Turner Underwood’s wet lawn this morning, didn’t you?”
Leira looked at the troll as he stood up between the seats and let out a sneeze. He wiped his face on Leira’s jacket, leaving a greasy smear.
“Really?”
Yumfuck let out a cackle and slid into her jacket pocket before she could stop him. “Dry cleaning will not get out troll snot,” she said, still trying to wipe away the sheen.
Jackson flexed his hands, taking a look around at Rainey Street. “Gotta say, I’m a little surprised that you’d take a stranger along in this metal wagon on just your grandmother’s word. You have no idea if I’m dangerous.”
“You have no idea that I actually can be and it’s part of my job. And this is a Mustang, not a metal wagon. Come on, you’ve never seen a car before?”
“I don’t get out as much as you’d think.”
Leira turned and looked him up and down, narrowing her eyes. “You and Mom never came through a portal to Earth? You know what, never mind. Not going to open that line of questioning today. Save it all for later.” Leira felt a shudder pass through her as she opened the car door. “Metal wagon,” she muttered.
Jackson got out of the car and stretched his arms over his head, smelling the air. “Where exactly are we and what is that smell?” He rubbed his belly, looking around for the source. “Come to think of it, I haven’t eaten since…”
“You’re fine. Those are food trucks for another time. Right now, you’re going to tell me everything you know about Jaspar Elves and why I’m in danger.”