by Martha Carr
Correk stepped through and took a last look back at her, a puzzled expression on his face as the portal closed behind him.
Strange way to say goodbye.
He shook his head and looked around. It felt good to be standing on Oriceran soil again. It was the longest he had ever been away and now that he was home, he realized how much he had missed it.
He stepped out of the brush and onto the path in the direction of the Light Castle and felt the familiar hum of the energy coming up from the ground and through his feet. He never really took note of it before.
“I never took you for the sentimental type. You have a foolish smile on your face.”
Correk smiled, finally able to make out eyes watching him, blending in with the foliage behind him. The two pupils in each eye moving independently, keeping watch.
“Perrom, good to finally see you.” He grabbed his old friend by the shoulders and pulled him into a hug, slapping him on the back.
“This is new.” Perrom studied his friend, a smirk on his face, still blending perfectly with his surroundings. “Your time on Earth appears to have been instructive. You’ve come back as a sensitive human.
Correk gave him a good-natured frown. “It’s called evolution and it’s a good thing!” He started walking toward the castle. Perrom moved away from all the greenery. The scales of his skin flipped over in a rippling wave, changing him back to a Wood Elf, his long brown hair hanging down his back.
“That’s not the only evolution going on.” He caught up to Correk and flicked one of his rounded ears. “You really are becoming a squishy human!”
Correk slapped his hands over his ears. “Damn the moons! I forgot the spell!” He hurriedly moved his hands, creating a shortcut to remove the spell, botching it on the first try in his rush.
“Rusty. Like a schoolboy again.” Perrom laughed, crossing his arms as he watched his friend struggle.
“Blast it. Fuck!”
Perrom laughed harder, bending over, holding his sides. “You’ve even learned to swear like the humans!”
Correk shoved him, but he kept laughing, even as he patiently waited for Correk to get it together.
Correk took a deep breath and looked at the plants around him. He let it out as a song, speaking in his native tongue, watching all the growing things rooted in the Oriceran soil bend toward him.
He tried the spell again, and finally his ears took on their more natural point. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Perrom. “Well?”
“Much better. Good you caught that before Queen Saria saw you. Her feelings about humans haven’t changed.” Perrom looked in the direction of the castle and in the distance Correk could see the Queen walking toward the gardens. A swarm of purple grieving fireflies clung to her, protecting her, blinking their lights. A sign of deep grief.
“She is no better,” said Correk.
“Her son had hundreds of years left. A few weeks of mourning will not take away that pain. Although, the death of Bill Somers helped. The Willens say she has stopped trying to blow them apart.”
“I’m sure they rewarded that with pinching a few of her things.”
“And then selling them back to her. Commerce.”
“I even missed the Willens.”
Perrom laughed. “Go, see everyone. Find me later. This is where I leave you,” he said, stopping at the edge of the woods.
“Tired of being seen with me?”
“Not at all. Things have gotten a little darker since you were here last. The dark bazaar has grown bigger and trades more Earthly technology every day. It influences everything. Someone must be behind all their success. You may have been right, my old friend. I hear there is a prophet who visits the tents.”
“Do they know who it is?”
“No one will talk. Everyone is afraid of him, which is saying something. That kind doesn’t scare easily. Watch your back. Sorry to put a damper on your return. You are staying, aren’t you? I know Ossonia has missed you.”
“You are weaving stories out of thin air. Ossonia is just a friend, and no, this is a visit to recharge. There are still things to do back on Earth.”
“Back on Earth? This is your home, don’t forget that. Go, there are people who will be happy to see you, no matter what you say.” Perrom faded into the scenery until only his smile could be seen and even that disappeared when he turned and became one with the forest, taking a different path toward home.
Correk wasted no time hiking up the short hill and through the formal gardens toward the castle. Pixies fluttered across the path, their wings stirring the air by his ankles. A chorus of “Hello, Correk,” piped up in high voices as they flew into the tall reeds. He smiled and waved. At last he arrived where he knew the castle was hovering, unseen by most.
“Altrea Extendia!” he shouted with joy. Sparks flew and a staircase curled around, down to the ground, appearing to hang in the air.
He climbed the stairs two at a time, the steps disappearing behind him, finally reaching the upper floor where his room was located.
A passenger pigeon was waiting for him at the window, cooing and pecking at the glass. “Palmer,” said Correk, opening the window, still able to find everything without having to make it visible. Still, he wanted to see his world. He bent his fingers and waved at the room, watching the familiar symbols appear on his outstretched arm. The room became visible again and Palmer stepped through the window, dropping the mail on his desk.
“I never know how the gargoyles can tell when someone is back.” Correk picked up the note. It had the royal seal of the Light Elves on it.
See me first. It was signed by the king.
“Thank you, Palmer.” Correk held out the card to the bird. The words started to wiggle, transforming into worms. Palmer gobbled them up and fluttered his wings in thanks, launching out the window again, back to the post office.
Correk went in search of the king, using a simple spell to locate him in the library. The gnomes looked up from their work and grunted, tipping their hats at Correk. A familiar greeting after someone was away. The flowers on their hats did their usual raspberry. One or two snarled, instead.
The king was standing by the window and when he turned Correk could see that his crown was starting to bloom. For him, at least, the grief was passing. It would be time, soon, to return to the more familiar crown of silver vines.
“Correk,” the king sang. “You’ve returned! The gargoyles said your arrival was imminent!” The king beamed with pleasure.
“My king,” said Correk, bowing slightly. “You asked to see me.”
“Yes. I know you’re only here to gather magic before you go back. The prophets will insist you return to Earth. They’re determined to ensure that these years before the gates open are not wasted. How long are you staying?”
“Just the day, with Your Grace.”
“Of course, of course. But, there is something you need to know. There are rumors everywhere about a dark force growing in our midst. I have sources who frequent the dark bazaar and someone is stirring trouble.”
“I’ve already heard the same rumor.”
“That is worrisome. You’ve only been back a moment and it’s already reached your ears. No one will give details about who it might be or if it’s a group. Did you hear more?”
Correk gave a firm shake of his head.
“Whoever it is,” said the king, “they have managed to buy loyalty with fear or money, or both.” The king moved his fingers in a pattern that Correk knew was to protect the room from eavesdroppers like a stray willen looking for something to bargain with later. “The queen does not know, and I’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible. My source tells me the necklace is back on Oriceran. This dark force, whoever they are, they must have plans for us all.”
Correk thought about telling him about the willen’s cryptic message, but without proof it could turn out to be a dangerous distraction. There was always the chance Correk was putting the pieces together wrong. I
t would have to wait until he knew more.
“What can I do to be of service?”
“At the moment, there is nothing any of us can do but stay vigilant. I’m glad you’ll be on Earth. You will be my eyes and ears there. That gives me comfort, my old friend. The gates will be opening sooner rather than later and we cannot risk starting off with dark forces threatening.”
Chapter Eighteen
The general was always being underestimated because of his small stature. He heard all the jokes about Napoleon or dynamite in a small package. He decided a long time ago to use all of it to his advantage. Too often, people underestimated his resolve and tried to test him. They never saw him coming.
He got great pleasure out of clearing up their misconceptions. Today was going to be no exception. He sat across the desk from the director of the psychiatric hospital and waited patiently. The director was leaning on the desk, his ID badge dangling over the particleboard disguised to look like oak. There was a smarmy smile plastered on his face. The fluorescent light overhead glared off of his bald head where the comb over didn’t cover.
On the desk between them were the discharge papers for Eireka Berens and a report that repudiated her mental illness. That was the part that was sticking in the director’s craw. He was willing to release the patient but with conditions.
“We have integrity here, you understand. This woman has issues. She’s clearly got schizophrenic tendencies, talking about elves and fairies and entirely other worlds. We can’t just say that never happened, now can we? We have to consider the public’s safety.”
Still, the general waited. He knew when someone was making a case to get what they wanted. The director didn’t give a shit about the public’s well-being or Eireka Berens sanity. He wanted something. Something big.
The director swiveled in his chair, pulling blueprints off the credenza behind him, rolling the rubber band off and opening them, laying them over the general’s papers.
“Now, if Ms. Berens had an adequate place to check in and still receive care on an outpatient basis, let us know that she’s still responding to all our care, we would feel better. I’m sure my fellow lodge brother, the mayor, would agree with me.” He tapped the drawings and smiled, the gap in his front teeth visible.
The general raised his hand, his eyes still on the director. An aide placed a folded piece of paper in it. No one in his entourage looked very happy.
The general carefully opened the paper and put it on top of the blueprints and pointedly slid it forward.
“I don’t know if you realize, but my time is valuable and you are wasting it. As you can see from the paper in front of you, you are a government employee at a government-sponsored institution. And somewhere in the chain of command, way above your head, there is me. That means that you have been wasting my time for quite some time.”
The smile slipped off the director’s face. The general tapped the paper again.
“Read the last line,” he said in a low and menacing tone. “As of this moment, consider your ass fired. You are no longer employed by this institution.” The general’s anger was kept in check only by his satisfaction at firing the director and watching the realization sink in.
The director sank back in his chair, his ego deflating.
“But…but…but…” he sputtered, spit flying onto the front of his crisp white lab coat.
“What’s that?” The general was starting to enjoy his day. There was a cockroach under his shoe and he was having the pleasure of hearing the crunch.
“I need this job!” whined the director, slapping his hands on the top of his cheap desk.
“Now you want your job back?”
The general stood up and brushed his arm across the top of the desk, pushing the blueprints onto the floor. His face was hard, the pleasant mask he entered with, gone. He carefully placed a pen down on the form.
“The next time someone from my office comes in and asks you to sign anything,” he said, in a slow, even, menacing tone, leaning over the desk, “you sign the fucking document.”
The director took the pen with a shaking hand.
The aide came around and pointed at signature lines as the director nervously signed his name, droplets of sweat smearing the ink.
“Good!” The general clapped his hands, smiling. “Always a good day when everyone works together.” He dropped the smile, sailing out the door without another word. Enough of his day had been wasted already. He hummed a song he heard on the radio as he headed down the hall. Leira Berens was one step closer to working for their side.
Leira read the paper again, trying to take it in. Her mother was declared sane and the government offered its sincere apologies for the error. A check was enclosed for $1,000,000 as restitution. The general was careful to point out that wasn’t her salary or even a signing bonus. It was to be Eireka Berens’ money. After all, it actually was a mistake to have ever locked her up. All over the country, others were being freed as well. All the government asked was that the whole matter be kept secret. That was exactly what Leira wanted, too.
She had dreamed of a moment like this a thousand different ways when she was younger. As she got older she stopped letting herself think about it at all. It always seemed like magical thinking.
She smiled at the thought, blinking back the tears welling in her eyes.
“Well, now,” said the general in a fatherly tone, patting her shoulder. “Big moment.” He cleared his throat and smiled at Leira.
If I could find my grandmother this day would be perfect.
She put the thought out of her mind. One victory at a time. The rock was rolling in the right direction.
“How soon?”
“Tomorrow. I know I told you by today but erasing her history is taking a little doing. It turns out there were a few agencies watching your mother. Apparently, they knew more than we realized, which puts them on our radar. Nonetheless, by the morning any trace of her will be gone from their system and if they try to look her up again, we’ll be notified. You not only have my word, which I assure you is inviolate, you have my gratitude for what you are about to embark on for us. Your country, in fact your world, Earth, will always be grateful, even if most inhabitants will never know anything about it.”
“Exactly the way I want it.”
“Always a good feeling when a plan comes together and everyone feels like they won.” He smiled. “Now, we have all of your paperwork to sign so we can make it official and get your clearance. There are benefits as well. Medical, dental, and a decent 401k. My aide will show you where to sign. Enjoy your evening Leira Berens, special attaché to the United States government. You’ve earned it.
Leira made one other condition before she signed. It was written in the agreement that she could tell several specific people about her new job. She agreed to leave out Oriceran, her complicated DNA, and her own magic in general. But she wanted to be able to tell them something close to the truth. After all, they were family.
She stood in her small living room surrounded by all the things that were so familiar, thinking about how things were about to change. My entire life, everything is changing. She twisted the sapphire ring on her finger. Will I even be able to live here anymore? There’s no room for my mother, much less a troll, Correk and my mother. Let it go, Berens. You’re getting more than you ever imagined possible. The rest will sort itself out.
“This is going to be one of the weirder conversations I’ve ever had to start with anyone.” She looked at the troll sitting on the edge of the couch. He kept cocking his head from one side and then to the other as if he understood, cooing and trilling. “Hello everyone, I’ve quit my job with the police department to become a ghost hunter. No? How about witch doctor. Or vampire slayer. No one’s mentioned any beings like that, yet.”
She shook it off and watched the troll give a shake as well. He grinned, showing even rows of sharp, pointy teeth.
“Okay, now or never.” The troll slid off the couch and
came over to stand next to her. “Oh no, you’re not coming. You’re not part of the bargain I made. Your whereabouts will have to remain hidden. Come on little fella.” She leaned down and held out her hand, waiting till he crawled onboard. She placed him in the center of the couch and whispered, “Nesturnium.” He settled in, sighing as he sat back against a pillow. Leira looked at him and wondered if he was bored, despite the spell. She grabbed the remote and turned on Netflix, starting the movie Gremlins. “You’ll like this one. I have a feeling these are cousins of yours.”
She twisted the ring one more time and reminded herself, everything changes tomorrow, before opening her front door and heading out to the patio. She weaved her way through the mostly empty tables over to where the regulars could always be found.
“Leira!” The familiar chorus went up from the people huddled around one end of the bar, laughing and telling stories. Estelle was at her usual post, standing on her stool, already handing someone what they wanted to drink before they had a chance to order. Smoke swirled around her bouffant.
Leira hesitated, surprising herself. She never ran from a fight. Maybe that’s the problem. This is all good news. Who knew it would be harder to face good news than it was to deal with the bad.
“You okay?” Margaret shushed the others, batting at them, sloshing the martini in her other hand. Craig stopped mid-sentence and turned around to look at Leira, along with Mike and Scott.
Mitzi picked up Lemon and smiled at her. “What is it, sugar?
Leira felt her throat tighten and fought the tears welling up in her eyes.
Mike got off his stool, shaking out a pant leg as Scott stepped over to Leira. No one dared to touch her. They had never seen her so vulnerable.
“What is it? Are you sick? Did someone die?”
“Drink this, it’ll help,” said Estelle who had migrated over to them with a shot of bourbon.