by Martha Carr
He stayed back by the door, watching her. She’s learned how to read them in no time at all. I wonder if the energy is teaching her.
She let out a deep sigh and narrowed her eyes, putting her hands on her hips and her chin out.
He had known her long enough to know that look on her face. She’s determined to get into the fight. “Where’s Hagan? Doesn’t he work on these cases with you?”
Leira tilted her head to the side watching him, her dark hair tucked behind an ear. “You worried about Hagan or me?”
“Not worried about anyone. Is there something to worry about?”
“Nice deflection and if you mean above and beyond the fucking horror that’s already going on, no. But come here and look at this. See those symbols? There’s some increase in activity but it’s hard to tell who’s doing it. I could ask my own energy the question…”
“Bad idea.” Correk blurted it out faster than he had intended to and tried to cover by striking a casual pose and smiling at her.
“Oh, now I know something’s up. That’s a pretty creepy look you’ve got going on there. What the fuck are you doing? Who’s been talking to you? Was it Jackson? Nana and Mom wouldn’t bring the drama…”
“The only one bringing the drama right now is you. Not everything rises to the level of an investigation. Take your beady eyes off me, Berens. This is a normal Light Elf mood.”
She gave him a crooked smile and waved to him. “Are you actually coming in or are you staying by the door? What is up with you tonight?” Something about him is different. “You’d tell me if something was wrong.” She said it as a fact, waiting to see if he flinched at all.
He held her gaze, remembering her standing on the battlefield, one leg broken and realizing she didn’t have the energy in her to strike down a fireball from someone as powerful as Rhazdon. It was so easy to make that one decision. He smiled easily at her. “I’m hungry and you’re taking too long.” Partial truth, at least.
“Pizza and popcorn night?”
“How does that work? Not both at once, surely. Although…”
“I don’t food judge. You do you,” she said. “Let’s go get food and take it home. Share with the little furry guy. You seen him lately?” She waved her arm, her eyes glowing for a moment catching him off guard as she erased the screen.
It’s become second nature for her. A growing sense of something bigger coming for both of them took root inside of him. Then we’ll face it together. Fight to the end and with honor. Leira looked up at him and he forced a smile. Stay by her side. If it’s the last good thing we do. He swallowed hard and felt for the whistle in his pocket. “Good run? Take anyone down on the way.”
Leira got her coat, breaking into a smile. “That would have made it perfect. It wasn’t bad as it was. Perfect running weather. Just a little cold and the sky seemed so big and wide open, turning all sorts of colors. Gotta love Texas.” She put an arm around him, giving him a hug.
“You’re very damp.”
“I earned it. You can take a little sweat, can’t you?” She raised her elbow in the air, doing her best to try and rub more sweat on him.
“Are you really trying to rub your armpit on me? Back, back.” He put the palm of his hand on her forehead holding her at arm’s length, smiling as he shook off the feeling. Leira let out a snort and a laugh swinging wildly, trying to land a soft blow and only catching air. “I could take you down if I wanted to.”
Correk laughed bending his arm slightly to let her get closer and pushing her back out again at the last moment. “Fake out!”
Leira laughed, gulping in air. “What movie did you get that from? My favorite Martian? Are TV antennas about to come out of the top of your head?” Leira swept a leg around catching him in the back of the ankles and sending his legs out from under him. He landed in a sitting position, laughing out loud, the creases around his eyes deepening as Leira fell forward onto her knees, her bangs sticking to her forehead and a broad smile across her face.
“We make a pretty good team!” She laughed, her head rocking back, her face flushed, nudging him with her foot.
“Quit kicking my butt!” He sat up taller and pulled her by her foot, sliding across the industrial carpet till she was right up against him.
Leira found herself inches from Correk’s face, looking closely into his eyes as the smile froze on her face. Correk let out one last laugh as he looked at Leira and let go of her leg. “We should get going,” he said, as he pulled himself back up to a standing position and straightened out his tunic.
Leira stood up, stretching her tight back, her arms overhead as her thoughts spilled one over the other. Okay, put it away. Back in the little box in the back of my mind. No can do, Berens. “I pick the movie tonight.”
She picked her jacket up off the floor and slid into it. “No, no.” She put up her hand as she headed for the door. “Last time you and Yumfuck picked I had to sit through a Vincent Price triple feature. I want something from this millennium.”
“You know, I haven’t seen Yumfuck. Should we be concerned?” Correk glanced back at the screen as a message rolled quickly across the bottom and disappeared. A team was spotted heading for a possible relic site in Wyoming. A PDF team out of Chicago was headed there. He turned back around and kept moving for the door. Let this one fight be someone else’s. We’ll pick the ball back up tomorrow.
“He’s probably hanging with Nana. He’ll turn up when he’s ready. We’re cosmically attached and he’s wily. I’m not worried. How about pineapple on the pizza?”
Correk grimaced. “I’d rather stuff Cheetos on the top than pineapple.”
“That could be arranged.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Leira was in her favorite soft UT sweat pants and hoodie headed out to the patio to sip her coffee and watch the sun rise. There was one spot out there, if she angled her chair just right she could see the sun as it rose. Correk was still asleep on the couch, his face buried in the pillow. Yumfuck had turned up just as they had opened the pizza boxes in the kitchen last night.
“It’s like we rang some kind of cosmic dinner bell for you,” Correk had said, giving the small troll the once over. “I don’t see any signs of mayhem still clinging to you.” The troll had laughed as Correk scooped him and perched him on the edge of his own paper plate.
Correk rubbed his soft green head. “Glad you’re home.” Leira noticed how bone weary Correk looked. I will have to get it out of him. It’s not like him to keep secrets from me.
“I know,” the troll had trilled.
Leira checked on the little troll before she came outside and found his nest lined with soft, furry green moss. She went to her bedroom and opened the old dresser that had once belonged to her grandmother and pulled out a new pair of underwear, tucking it around him as he curled up into a tight ball and let out a soft trill in his sleep.
“You look so innocent in your sleep,” she whispered. The troll’s legs churned and a smile came to his face as he ran in his sleep. “Are you running toward trouble or away from it?” Leira smiled and waited for him to settle back down before she headed outside. He lifted a leg and let out a soft, airy fart, cackling in his sleep.
“Oh gawd, way to kill the sentimental moment.” Leira waved a hand in front of her face and quickly covered her mug just in case it was possible to have fallout. “How does Correk sleep through that? I don’t know whether or not I should be impressed or check his pulse,” she whispered. “Okay, I’m done, moment over.” She opened the door to the cottage and used it like a large wooden fan for a moment before stepping over the threshold and gently shutting the door behind herself.
She stood still breathing in the fresh air, the bricks cold against her bare feet. “May have singed a few nose hairs. How does such a small creature churn out so much gas.” She held the chipped Best Grandmother mug up to her face and let the steam warm her cheeks before she took another gulp. “Nectar of the Gods…”
There was a plum
e of smoke billowing out from just inside the restaurant. Estelle is here early. Wonder what inspired that. Leira dragged a seat over, across from another one and settled in, putting her feet in the other chair. “Wish I had brought the pot out here.”
“Then I’m right on time.”
She looked up to see Turner Underwood in dark slacks and a shirt and pullover sweater using a cherrywood cane with a brass handle draped over his arm and was carrying a cardboard tray with two large cups of coffee.
“What is that on your head?” Leira set down her nearly empty mug and held out her hand for one of the cups.
Turner pulled off the white boxy hat with no rim as he held out the tray. “This? It’s a kufi. A grateful patron gifted it to me in my travels through Africa.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out of a suit.”
“Everyone needs a day off now and then.”
“I figured you had pajamas that looked like suits.”
“Your impertinence always cheers me up. Too many people are too fucking scared to even make a joke these days. Rumors of magic and gates opening have bled into the human world and everyone is on edge. That’s for another day, of course.” He set the tray down and pulled over a chair. “Watching the sun rise?”
Leira narrowed her eyes, studying him as she took a long sip. The coffee was still hot and felt good going down. “How do you do that? Show up just when someone is in need, apparently even for coffee and know what I’m thinking?”
He tapped the side of his head with his finger. “You’re facing east at the crack of dawn and I’ve seen you guzzle this stuff like a man who was lost in the desert. Didn’t even use any magic.”
Leira smiled, holding on to the warm paper cup with both hands. “Best way to drink hot coffee is when I’m just this side of too cold.”
“Explains the bare feet.”
“Doesn’t explain why you’re here.” She looked at him over the top of the cup. “You’ve gotten Correk involved in something. Not a question, by the way. Did you put him at risk?”
“Being born put him at risk.”
Leira sat up, a scowl on her face. She put her feet back on the cold ground. “Don’t be clever with me. I know I need your help, but I won’t take it at the cost of my friend. I’ll take my chances. Hagan and I made a pretty good team long before any of this shit started happening. I’m very comfortable going back to that situation.”
“But you’ll keep the coffee.”
“I have my limits… Tell me the truth or our association ends here. If I can’t trust you, I can’t work with you, much less learn from you.”
“Fair enough and admirable.” Turner leaned forward on the handle of his cane. “I am old even in Elven years and not quite as fast as I used to be.” He slapped his leg and chortled. “Still faster than most, mind you. But a Fixer has to be so quick that there is no thought, there was no hesitation at all. I can feel myself losing that small, infinitesimal fraction of a moment. At the wrong moment that could end up costing someone very dearly.”
Leira put down the coffee, one hand still on the warm cup and slid forward on the seat, anger filling her as the scar on her belly heated up, causing a twinge of pain that went through to her spine. “No, you didn’t. That’s not fair, you know Correk well enough to know he couldn’t say no. You asked him to take your place as the Fixer.” She turned so her face wasn’t visible from the window as her eyes glowed, the magic getting the better of her. The mug slid across the table, crashing against the bricks and splashing her feet with tepid coffee, breaking into bits from the force of the energy surge.
Turner sat back in the chair, patiently waiting as he watched her. “You need to get something to ground yourself.” His words came out slowly and evenly as he took in one deep breath after another, holding it for a moment and letting it go. “I’m not the enemy,” he said at last. “And you don’t get to decide the steps on Correk’s journey. Besides, I don’t think he’d be very happy if you got to keep him in a neat little box. Remember, he was originally sent here on a mission because he is a trusted and skilled Elven warrior. He has already stayed far longer than expected. Isn’t the necklace already back with its rightful owner?”
Leira felt the magic subside and glanced up at the bar, watching the plume of smoke move through the dining room toward the kitchen. “It’s probably the Cheetos and Dr Pepper keeping him here,” she said, without looking at Turner. He’s right. Fuck, I let Correk hang around because I wanted him here. She bent down and picked up the shards of the mug, placing them on the table. “Favorite mug…”
“It’s alright that you wanted him to stay. It’s alright that he didn’t want to go. You know…” He leaned forward, tapping his cane on the ground.
Leira looked up at him. The tapping was a sign to her that he was making a point.
“Some think that being asked to be the Fixer is a privilege that’s only bestowed on one Elf every millennia. The chance to serve in a greater capacity and learn far more about magic, honorable magic.” He smacked his lips together in irritation, mulling something over. “He will still have a life full of family and friends and adventures that don’t always involve a battle or fireballs.”
Leira winced at the mention of fireballs as understanding came over Turner Underwood. “It’s not your fault, what happened to him. He made a choice, which is his right. It’s what gives life its flavor and without it, we’re all just puppets.” Turner leaned forward and held out his fist, rolling out his fingers one at a time. The broken bits of mug on the table and scattered along the ground came back together in the glittering glow of a stream of purple light, till the mug was whole again.
“You even got rid of the chipped edge.”
“I like to give a little extra when I can. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m a bit of a showman.” Turner paused, shutting his eyes for a moment and holding a finger in the air, testing the direction of the wind. “Change is coming. Can you feel it? It’s impossible to stop it and you either get on board or get dragged. You don’t strike me as the kind to try and hold back anything. Including Correk. Mark my words, though, you’re not letting him go…”
“I didn’t say…”
“You didn’t need to and neither did he. You’re letting the truth free and it will do its own work out there in the world. Your journeys will continue to unfold and knowing the two of you will be full of a lot of kicking ass and fucking around with dangerous things. This is your destiny.”
“You don’t mean fate.”
“Not at all.” Turner raised his cane in the air, his voice growing louder. “Fate is for fools. It’s like knowing you were out here to see the sunrise. You will never be content to sit at home and watch Kathie Lee and Hoda, wondering what to make for dinner. You’ll always be out there seeking adventure because you believe in something. The basic good of everything there is. Otherwise, the light would not have found such an amenable home within you. Light doesn’t go where it isn’t welcome. It’s very polite in that way.”
“Most people don’t think of former homicide detectives as optimists.”
“It takes a powerful optimist to face down the worst a human being can do and still believe in justice. If you weren’t an optimist you would be in the revenge business. That will darken your magic faster than anything I’ve ever seen and I’ve seen a lot in my travels. Do this for me. Instead of wondering what you may be losing, look for what may be gained. Look for it in every step. You have nothing to lose and you may find you don’t miss the moments of joy in between fighting the Dark Mist or hunting for artifacts or whatever ghoulish adventure is waiting out there for you.”
Leira took another sip from the coffee Turner had brought her. “It’s still hot. If this is magic you really have to teach me this one. I know you’re right. I wouldn’t let anyone hold me back. I won’t do that to anyone else…”
“That you care about…”
Leira sipped the hot coffee and didn’t answer him, watching the
sun finally climb higher into the sky. This coffee is one of the best magic tricks he’s done so far.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Eireka and Mara sat at the stone entrance to the underground city of Hilldale near the Lavender Rock kemana. The door was open and Eireka could see the beginning of the glowing lavender stones that lit the long, stone staircase down to the bustling city square. She looked up at the plateau, remembering the battle and shivered. We all came too close to a bad ending. Some of us slipped right over the line. Still can’t shake the feeling something worse is building and headed our way.
They heard a shuffling from below and someone taking the stairs at a fast clip. A Swamp Kilomea came up the stairs, a large crate on his shoulder, grunting as he got to the top.
“This door’s supposed to be kept closed. Too many curious eyes around these parts.”
Mara lifted an arm, sweeping it around her head, making the transparent glamour around them shimmer.
Outside the protective bubble the wind was blowing hard even though the sky was clear, kicking up dust and the occasional small tumbleweed. The Kilomea gave another grunt, shifting the heavy wooden crate on his shoulder as he passed through the glamour to the other side, shifting into a glamour of his own.
“Not bad,” said Mara, watching the Kilomea disguised as a muscled, dark-skinned man pick his way over the rocky outgrowths toward the parking lot.
Three hikers passed by, stopping to watch the man for a moment.
“I totally get that.”
Eireka let out a hush with a stern look but Mara smiled at her and kept right on talking. “What, you think this is my first glamour? I know how to sound proof these fuckers. Watch…” Mara stood up and jumped up and down, waving her hands and screaming as loud as she could.