Silence - eARC

by Mercedes Lackey

  Staci didn’t have any good response to…well, any of that. They were right, and she didn’t want them to be right. She wanted to run away, and she had magic on her side! She couldn’t, she knew that, and it was only a part of her that wanted to run…but still! She would trade places with them if she could…wouldn’t she?

  There was another knock at the door. She held up her hands to forestall any other questions or recriminations, standing up and moving to the front of the house. At least I don’t have to answer them right now. Please let this be Dylan…

  She wasn’t going to just open the door to anyone though. Not right now. Not when it could be…Sean. Or another one of those monsters. Or one of mom’s boyfriends, though that seemed remote. Grabbing her cell phone charm tightly, she peeked through the glass in the entry door, cautiously, and saw the top of a shaggy head of hair with the tip of a pointed ear poking through it. Standing on tiptoes, she made sure that the hair and ear belonged to Dylan before she opened the door for him.

  “Whoa—” he said, immediately skirting to the side of the room away from the boxes full of iron and steel stuff. He smelled like fresh sweat, warm leather, and—was that fresh-cut hay?—as he brushed past her, his hand lightly touching her shoulder. She felt a thrill run through her from being in such close proximity to him, and then scolded herself for even thinking about anything other than the horrible situation they were facing. But being around him made her feel safer, if not completely safe. He was self-assured, but not in the arrogant way that Sean was. “I see the party favors arrived. I could feel them from thirty feet away.”

  “Let me introduce you to the gang. They’re…still taking everything in.”

  Staci’s friends all watched Dylan as she led him forward; he stayed on the far side of her from the boxes, she noticed. Even just being near that much steel and iron makes elves uncomfortable. Filing that tidbit away for later.

  “Guys, this is Dylan. He’s the one that’s been helping me with…everything. He’s trying to help save the town. Dylan, meet the gang.” She introduced each person in turn. Riley and Jake were both polite and cautious, Seth couldn’t stop looking at Dylan’s pointed ears (perhaps the iron was affecting his glamour? Or—maybe he just wasn’t wearing a glamour?), and Wanda was mostly reserved, watching Dylan as if she was calculating just how much of a threat he might be. Once that was done, he took the empty seat next to Staci.

  Dylan cleared his throat, sitting up straight. “I wanted to thank all of you for being here. I know that it couldn’t have been easy, for you to learn about the way things are in your town. About magic. I figure you all deserve to know a little bit about me before we go any further.” He then told them about what he did: hunting down enclaves of dark elves, monsters, and other things that went bump in the night. Staci observed that he was a bit more circumspect when it came to details about why he had started; it seemed he was only willing to share that with her. The others, especially Wanda and Seth (though for different reasons and in different ways), asked him questions, and he answered thoughtfully and completely. That relieved Staci, somewhat; he wasn’t trying to lead them on or sway them, as she had been afraid that he might. He was just stating facts, and letting them draw their own conclusions.

  But what are those going to be? On the one hand, she wanted them all to run screaming for the hills, and get the hell out of town while they still could. They were her only friends, aside from Tim and Beth; she never even heard from anyone in New York City anymore, save for her father, and even that was getting rarer. She cared about them, and didn’t want to see them get hurt. On the other hand…she didn’t want to face this alone. She had Dylan, and there was definitely something there between them. She hated thinking about it when there were so many more important things to worry about, but that didn’t stop her from getting butterflies in her stomach when he smiled at her, or goosebumps from going up her arms when he would accidentally touch her. Even with that…she wanted her normal friends to be there with her when she faced what was waiting for her at the estate. Maybe just to help her fight against her own fear; if they could do it, then so could she, with their help. It wasn’t fair of her to ask that of them, though. They had to make that decision on their own; she was firmly set on that.

  There was a break in the conversation, and all eyes turned toward her. The Q-and-A session was done, and she had been lost in thought for a moment.

  “You never answered my question from earlier, Staci. About the boxes,” said Wanda. She sipped on her cola, watching Staci from behind the rim of the plastic cup.

  She waved her hand vaguely at the pile of boxes. “They’re weapons and armor; made from steel and iron, which elves are fatally allergic to. It disrupts magic, and even just nicking one with something made of it can seriously mess them up, even kill them. It’s the sort of thing that can give normal people a fighting chance against elves. Dylan bought them…because he and I are going to go to the Blackthornes, and try to stop them from casting that spell. He can’t wear or use the stuff, but a human like me can. It might give us an edge.”

  “So, wait a second, you’re going to attack the Blackthornes?” Seth was wide-eyed, looking from the weapons, to Staci, to Dylan’s ears, and back again.

  “It’s either that or let them kill more people,” she said harshly. “Let them kill Silence, everyone in it. Look, I’m stuck here; I don’t have anywhere to go and no one to turn to, even if I did. So I don’t have any other options. Except maybe let Sean Blackthorne have me as his playtoy until he gets tired of me, and then let him…” Well, she couldn’t finish that, because she didn’t know what he would do. “And how could I sit up there like a princess in a tower and let him murder everyone, anyway?” Well, easy, I could let him put that spell back on me and I wouldn’t even think about what was going on. Of course, that would be wrong on so many levels I can’t even count them…and if I let him do that, I wouldn’t be me anymore.

  “Like we do have options?” said Wanda, incredulous. “This was our town first, Staci. We have our families here, our whole lives here. Yeah, it’s crappy, and run-down, and has been getting worse. But we can’t just pack up and leave, either. Even if we could run…what kind of people would that make us? Even if we could take our families, what about the rest of the people in town? They’d be doomed to that horrible…I don’t know, Insta-Plague you were talking about. You all are my only friends, here or anywhere, but I wouldn’t wish that stuff on my worst enemy in town. I’m staying. Judging from the boxes, you’ve got enough stuff so that there’s enough for me, too.”

  Staci bit her lip, and her eyes stung a little. “Wanda…I’m not asking you to help. This isn’t a freakin’ game, where if someone dies they just roll up a new character sheet. This is serious, and we could all get hurt or worse—”

  “—which isn’t different from any other day,” interrupted Jake. “We could get run over, struck by lightning, fall off the dock and drown, break our necks, our houses could burn down, there could be a tragic weedwhacker accident. We could already have been puppy chow for the Blackthorne hellhounds. You’re our friend, too. We can’t let you do this alone and still call ourselves friends. I’m with Wanda; I’m staying, and I’m going to help,” he finished with a gulp. Riley looked shocked, tugging on his elbow, but it was clear that he was determined.

  Riley shook her head. “This is insane…monsters and elves, magic and plagues? There’s got to be somebody else that we can get to help, get to take care of this. The cops—”

  Jake interrupted her, “—are in on it! You heard Staci. They’re under the thumb of the Blackthornes. And it makes sense. The curfew, the little-shit gangs, the drugs; they’ve been doing what the Blackthornes wanted for a long time, and have been getting worse. Dark elves feed on…misery, right? Sounds like the police are playing right into that. Besides, who else would believe this stuff? ‘Hello, Mr. President? Yeah, you’re never going to guess what, but I need you to call in the National Guard and the Ghostbusters becaus
e…’ You see? We’re alone, here.”

  Riley looked deflated by that. Jake put his arm around her shoulder. “If we stick together, we can do this. It’s our only shot, baby. I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?” She seemed to take a little heart in that, but still looked scared to death.

  “Seth? Where do you fall on this? You don’t have to feel pressured; whatever you decide, it’ll be okay.” Staci almost wished Seth would refuse; maybe that would get the others to back out, if he did.

  “I…um…” He looked at his feet, then stole a glance towards Wanda; only Staci seemed to notice. “I’m staying. I’m going to help. There aren’t any other options that make sense, or at least good sense. Hiding won’t work; plague will get us, or some other horrible monster. Running won’t work--we probably can’t at this point; we’d never get our families to come along--and anyway, if what you overheard is what they’re really planning, this thing will eventually be everywhere. There’s no one else that can save us, so…” He sucked in a long breath, then let it out in a heavy sigh. “So, we have to save ourselves.”

  Staci sighed, looking to Dylan. He didn’t look like he was pleased with himself, or triumphant. He actually looked like he sympathized with her, a little sadness in his eyes. Glad he’s not rubbing my nose in it. Maybe there’s more to him than meets the eye. “Is there anything at all I can say to get any of you to change your minds about this?”

  “You…cooould say that there is a hidden camera crew, and that we’re all on television as part of a practical joke show,” said Seth, looking around the room with an exaggerated mask of suspicion on his face. “But, I don’t think you will. So, I guess we’re still with you on this. Guys?” Everyone nodded at that, with Riley chuckling half-heartedly at Seth’s attempt at a joke. Jake and Wanda looked dead serious. Wanda still had that odd air of vindication. Staci had to wonder, now, just what sorts of conspiracy theories she’d had going in her head until now—what had she thought was happening in Silence? Maybe compared to what she’d been thinking of, elves and black magic are…not as bad as what she’d been afraid of?

  “Well, if you’re all set on helping us, it’s best that we give you every advantage that we can,” Dylan said. “We’ve got mail and bucklers for protection; just about any magic that hits you on those ought to dissipate and leave you relatively unharmed.”

  “Relatively?” Riley spoke up, looking skeptical.

  “Nothing is one hundred percent, but it’s better than going up against dark elves in jeans and a T-shirt.” The gang all traded glances. “Moving on. We’ve also got short swords; you can use them one-handed, but they don’t have much reach. There are also a lot of hand-to-hand and throwing knives; you don’t want to use them as a primary weapon if you can help it, since chucking your main weapon is generally poor form when it comes to fighting. But, any elves you’re fighting won’t pick it up to use against you, so you have that going for you. And lastly are some caltrops; pure iron, a specialty order that a friend of mine fabricated. If you start spreading those around, it’s going to seriously mess up any magic for a good distance. Think of them like signal interference. We probably can’t count on anyone actually stepping on one, but if it happens, it’s going to pretty much take whoever does right out of the picture.”

  “Besides iron and steel, what weaknesses do dark elves have?” Wanda was listening very closely to everything that Dylan had to say about the weapons, and was equally intent on hearing his response.

  “Other than that, not much, really. We’re susceptible to all the regular stuff that humans are; stab us, shoot us, whatever, and we get hurt and can die just like regular people. Oh, we’re also allergic to caffeine. It’s like a super-potent drug; gets us high, and not in a good way. Enough of it can kill.”

  “Caffeine? So, like this cola…” Seth said, holding up his plastic cup.

  “There’s enough in there to really mess someone like me up.”

  “You know, that gives me an idea.” Everyone turned to look at Seth.

  “Well, are you going to share with the class, or do we have to beat it out of you, genius?” Wanda punched him lightly in the thigh, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

  “Ow. Well, I was thinking…caffeine in cola and coffee is kind of diluted. At the health and wellness store in town, they sell all sorts of supplements. Like concentrated caffeine powders. Even a little bit of that stuff would dwarf what you find in cola.” He looked at Dylan. “Do elves have to drink or otherwise ingest caffeine for it to affect them?”

  “For the most part, yes.” He thought for a moment. “But, if you could get a dose into their bloodstream some other way…say, through their eyes, or having them breathe it in…”

  “Got it!” Seth pumped a fist up in the air. “Caffeine powder, maybe in a solution of…I dunno, an energy drink or something. Load it all up into a water gun. I know a mod that can boost the pressure up pretty high. Eh, long story. But anyways, you get that powder into a solution like that, blast someone in the face…no way they can stop some from getting in their eyes, in their nose, in their mouth. Super-concentrated anti-elf juice.”

  “Remind me not to give you a reason to be pissed off at me, Seth,” said Dylan. This time everyone did laugh genuinely. It felt good, like they were making progress and could actually do this. Staci still had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, that they were all in way over their heads…which they were. But, having everyone working together somehow abated that, at least a little bit. “Also, I wish I didn’t have to, but I’ve got to say this; it’d probably be best if all of you didn’t really spread this knowledge around. Any of it, really. Elves don’t like being known about, by and large. They don’t like having their weaknesses known even more. Just a polite thing to keep it under your hat, okay?”

  “Like we’d tell anyone about this,” Jake snorted. “The first time we said the word ‘elf,’ our folks would have us committed. They already think we’re borderline for playing games and LARPing, one hint that we thought any of it was real and we’d be looking at the world from inside an institution. In my case,” he added thoughtfully, “probably a military academy for troubled teens.”

  Dylan blinked a little, as the others nodded. “Brenda would love it if she could send me to a drug rehab place,” Staci said bitterly. “Why do you think I haven’t called my father? Why do you think I keep saying I’ve got nowhere else to go?”

  Dylan scratched his head, with a peculiar expression on his face. “Huh,” he said finally. “Keighvin might be—” Then he just shook his head.

  “Who’s Kevin?” Jake asked, sharply.

  Dylan shrugged. “Ask me when this is over,” he replied cryptically. “So, we’ve got the tools. Seth, do you think you can rig up a couple of water guns the way you were talking about?”

  Seth grinned, as if this was some sort of prank they were planning, and not an assault on a den of killers. “Sure. Me and Jake can buy the powdered caffeine—it’ll be less suspicious if we split the purchase between the two of us—and I already have a selection of water guns at my house. Also, enough energy drinks to keep a football team going for a week.” He glanced over at the others, thrusting his chin towards the boxes. “Bet you guys never thought all that LARPing was going to come in handy, didja?”

  Wanda just rolled her eyes. Jake grinned back a little. Riley bit her lip. “What’s LARPing?” Staci asked, now thoroughly confused. This was the second time it had been mentioned.

  “Live Action Role-Playing,” Seth said, just a little smugly. “We stopped doing it just before you got to town because we lost our ride when Greyhound stopped serving Silence. But you’re looking at the Shattered Shield Survivors. Three-time champions, to boot.”

  “Which means what, exactly?” Staci asked, with just a touch of impatience.

  “It means,” Jake replied, when Seth looked crestfallen that Staci wasn’t impressed, “that the four of us actually do know how to swing a sword.”

  * * *

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nbsp; Staci closed the door behind Jake and Riley and put her back against it, staring at Dylan, who was contemplating a slice of reheated pizza in his hand. “This is insane,” she said. “There’s only six of us! How can we even think we have a chance?”

  “I’ve gone through worse odds, and while alone. You ought to give your friends more credit; they’re a brave bunch, and they all seem to have good heads on their shoulders. None of this is ideal, but we’ve got a damn good bit going for us.” He walked over to her after setting the pizza back on a plate. “For one, the Blackthornes don’t know that we’re onto their plan. They know I’m in town, and they know that I’m snooping around, that’s certain. But what they don’t know is that you’re helping me. I’m pretty sure they don’t know that you’ve got magic. And they certainly don’t know that your friends are going to be helping us, with iron and steel. That’s a lot of surprises, and my kind doesn’t always do that well with reacting on the fly. We love human innovation for a reason; it’s something we can’t easily grasp and do ourselves.” He turned to lean his shoulder against the door, right next to her. “We’ve stacked the deck in our hand as much as we can. If it were just you and me…we might have been able to do it. But I would’ve had serious doubts; doesn’t mean we wouldn’t have tried, though. It’s the right thing to do. With your friends, our chances of success have gone up, big time. It still won’t be easy; I’m not that much of an optimist. I sure as hell like our chances a lot better now, though.”

  She couldn’t help herself. Tears started leaking out of her eyes. “Dylan, I don’t care what you thought of that crap that Seth and Jake were telling you, they don’t know anything about really fighting. I doubt either of them has ever gotten so much as a broken bone doing that LARP stuff, or had anything worse than a papercut! It’s all just”— she waved her hands helplessly —“video game fights to them! And if the bad guy cuts off your head, you just go back to the last savepoint!” She started to sob, because after having seen those hitchhikers die right in front of her, having seen the hounds with bloody muzzles, she could all too easily imagine what would happen if Seth went charging at one of the Blackthornes.