by A J Brahms
Eleven
Aberdeen and I stood on the sidewalk, outside of One Atlantic Center, downtown. The third tallest building in Atlanta, it's also known as the IBM Tower. One of Atlanta's many jewels, from the ground to the top was decorated with Spanish pink granite, crowned with a coppery pyramid top and gold peak. The area below the pyramid had a sort of gothic feel to it, which when lit up at night, created the effect of a royal crown. It was a place where Aberdeen should feel right at home. It was close to five thirty in the morning. The city was just showing signs of life as a coffee kiosk set up on the corner. I'd changed into a nice suit and trench, and Aberdeen still wore what he'd worn to Cimitir Hall.
"And to think," my friend said with his hands on his hips, "the actual Mórrígan of legend is the CEO here."
"Never figured her to be in a high rise…" I shook my head. "Maybe a cave or some forest dwelling somewhere, wherever Fairies live."
"No…that's not what I mean." Aberdeen's gaze came off the building and met mine. "Here. In some Southern capitol. We're taking about one of the greatest myths of the Fairy worlds…and she's here. Why not in Ireland? Or even Scotland?"
"According to Jedediah, she is in those places. She has holdings in London, Tokyo, Beijing, and I believe smaller fragmented companies in Los Angeles and Montreal. Also Cork and Edenborough. They're all under the name of Badb Industries."
Aberdeen folded his arms over his chest. "Really? The Tourist Conglomerate?"
"The very one. Apparently, she parlayed her eternal knowledge into a tidy fortune. And why not?" I shrugged. "I guess even Goddesses need to eat?"
We walked around the side and entered a door that sort of blended in with the rest of the pink granite. Jedediah had given me a code to enter and there didn't seem to be any guards or security as we stepped through. My ears popped a little, like they did in planes. We walked down a hallway that immediately opened up into an impressive lobby. Wide and open, with a circular fountain in the center. Water sprayed out in gentle fans to create the sphere and looking hard at it…I couldn't tell where the water was coming in. No pipes…not even a hose.
"Are we alone?" Aberdeen asked, his voice echoing in the majestic space.
I listened carefully and only heard his heartbeat and one other. "Someone else is here. Strong, rhythmic. Do Goddesses have hearts?"
He arched a brow at me and shrugged. "Hell if I know."
Following Jedediah's careful instructions, we moved around the fountain to a desk, where during regular office hours, I was sure would be manned by…people. But we were early for the norm. And just as Jedediah said, a door opened to our left and a statuesque, raven-haired woman stepped out. She was dressed in a flattering black suit jacket and skirt, and her shoes, though probably made by an Italian designer, had a sheen to them that reminded me of the feathers of a bird. Specifically, a raven.
"Good morning," she said in a cheery voice. Her ruby red lips pulled back from perfectly straight white teeth.
"Miss…" And that's when it dawned on me—I didn't know what to call her. I'd only heard the Mórrígan, but that seemed to be more of a title. Did she have a name?
She held out her hand as she stood in front of Aberdeen and me. "You can call me Badb." I thought I heard her say Bav. "It's the name of the company."
"Badb," I said as I took her hand. It was warm and had she had a firm grip. She shook Aberdeen's hand in turn. "I'm very honored that you agreed to speak with us."
"Oh, I didn't agree. I'm here to take you to your appointment." With a bright smile, she gestured for us to follow her back through the door she'd stepped out of.
Aberdeen and I exchanged glances but followed her. I was confused. I only heard one other heartbeat, and I was pretty sure it was hers. Did this mean the Mórrígan didn't have a heart? That might answer my question.
We walked along another corridor with blank walls and no windows, not even a door or a picture, and I wasn't sure where the light was coming from. Aberdeen was uncharacteristically quiet as he strolled along behind me. I tried to keep my gaze from landing on Badb's backside. And it was a nice one.
As we made a right, we nearly collided with a woman in a uniform. She was older, as if she were close to retiring. Serious expression—almost pinched features. Her silvery hair was pulled back in what I would have called a severe bun. And her uniform… I couldn't make out the branch of service. It wasn't Army or Navy, and it wasn't Air Force.
She saluted Badb and Badb saluted her. No introductions as the woman walked briskly past us, her black heels barking into the tile.
"Who was that?" Aberdeen asked.
Badb glanced back with a smirk, and I got the feeling she was directing it at the woman. "That's just Macha." She pronounced it Makah.
Finally, we arrived at a large, wooden door with a plastic folder holder on the wall to the right. Badb removed a clip board from the holder and pulled a pen from her pocket. "Here you are. I need you both to sign."
I looked at the paper as she handed it to me. It was blank. "What exactly am I signing?"
"Sorry, but no telling until after you sign."
Alarm bells went off, and I could hear Jedediah's voice. Don't sign anything, don't agree to anything, and don't promise anything. Fairies take deals very seriously. And their magic does too. I've lost many a Family member to their ridiculous worship of equivalent exchange.
I handed it back to her. "This was a mistake. I don't sign things I can't get an answer to first. Please tell your boss I've changed my mind." I turned and Aberdeen turned—
And we were facing the same door again, with the same Badb, looking very confused. "But I can't let you in unless you sign."
"I'm not signing." I smiled at her, and this time I looked behind me, past Aberdeen—
And saw the door again. Dammit. Was this Fairy magic? Trapping us here until we signed? That damn Vampire didn't say anything about this!
"But you have to sign." There was something about her voice that drilled into my brain. I hadn't felt it before, but something slipped past my defenses, my personal gate keepers, and convinced me in a second that I should sign whatever it was she wanted me to sign…
"Ren!"
Aberdeen slapped me. I put a hand to my cheek and stared at him, but I understood why he'd done it when I realized Badb was gone. It was just us outside that door and no matter where we turned, we were always facing that door.
"Did you have to hit me that hard?" I hissed at him and rubbed my cheek. "Technically you are made of stone."
"She got in. You never let a Fairy get in. Didn't your Master teach you to protect your thoughts?"
"No. She wanted to read them, not have me hide them. Did I sign anything?"
"No."
"Do you—"
A click and a creak stopped me mid-sentence as the door opened slowly. Again, we looked at each other, and this time Aberdeen moved ahead of me and cautiously stepped through. I followed him and together we stepped into a high-rise office right out of every Wall Street movie I'd ever seen. Luxurious, soft green carpet. Mahogany walls and desk. Books shelves filled with thick books with matching color coordination. A flat screen took up one wall with a black couch in front of it. A mini-bar to the right and floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over…
"That's Seattle!" I blurted out.
Aberdeen stood beside me. "Well yes, it is. Temporal displacement. Very ingenious."
"Thank you," came a soft voice from the desk.
The high-backed chair behind the mahogany desk had been turned away, so we didn't see the occupant at first. If this was the Mórrígan, I was confused as hell.
This woman looked like a housewife right out of one of those black and white school films of the 1950s. She wore a floral print dress, reminiscent of something Queen Elizabeth wore in her twenties. She had a string of pearls around her neck, and her hair, a mouse brown, was perfectly styled like Lucile Ball's. Her face was…well… Unremarkable. Not at all like Badb's had been, or as full of mean
-spirited order like Macha's. I doubted I could pick her out of a crowd.
Any crowd.
She put her hands on the desk in front of her and looked up at us for a second before she stood, and then spoke. She even sounded like Queen Elizabeth. "I assume introductions are in order. I am Anand De Danann, CEO and owner of Badb Industries."
Even she pronounced it as Bav.
She looked at Aberdeen. "You are Aberdeen Windersham, professor of Ecclesiastical Studies at Emory University in Atlanta. Though…that is only a half truth. You are not human. I'm afraid I can't really detect what you are, but I can sense you are very protective of the Chevalier."
The mention of that title definitely put all my defenses up. That title was only ever known among the Night Walker Families and not something that was ever passed along outside of those circles. The meaning of such a title, though now archaic, was too revealing of who I was.
Of…what I was.
"Please, Mr. Grainger." She tilted her head toward me. "Don't look so shocked. I'm not young, and I have been among the Vampire society for many years. Though the last Chevalier I encountered was nearly a century ago, a long time before their creation was banned. I am aware of your Gifts, but not their specifics. Please, do sit down."
I was not comfortable. Not at all. Forget the fact I still only sensed one heartbeat and we'd met three people, and were apparently now in Washington and even later on the time clock.
Aberdeen did not sit. Instead he stood beside me. Anand looked at him and then seemed to shrug to herself. When she focused on me, I felt as if I were the only one in the room. "Mr. Grainger, Jedediah is an old acquaintance. We are neither friends nor enemies, but business partners, in a sense. I manage some of the facets of his historical society's tourist packages, most of which relate to Cimitir Hall. He did express his concern for the possibility that Brownies had interfered in your world and had killed three humans and nearly killed you." She clasped her hands together and placed them on the desk in front of her. "I understand from Jedediah that you wish to know who hired them."
"Yes ma'am."
"And you both believe I know this answer."
"We hope so."
She pursed her lips for a second and tilted her head to the left. "Where is your Master?"
That question caught me completely off guard. "I'm sorry?"
"Where is your Master? To see a Chevalier, and one as old as you, surviving on their own is extraordinary. So, I am curious, where is your Master?"
I thought about Jedediah's warning. "My Master passed away about twenty-one years ago." Twenty-one years, seventeen days, eleven hours and twenty-two minutes, to be precise.
"Natural causes?"
"For what constitutes natural for a Night Walker," I said, and then swallowed. "She was beheaded."
"What exactly is the purpose of this line of questioning?" Aberdeen spoke up. "And can you give him the information he needs?"
She narrowed her eyes at Aberdeen, but didn't say anything. Somehow, I'd have preferred a burst of anger, or some kind of reaction. Finally, she unclasped her fingers and laid her hands flat on the desk. "I can. But like all information, there are agreements. Contracts." And then she looked at me. "Payments."
And there it was, the declaration Jedediah had warned me to look for. And I had my response. "I am willing to listen to terms, but I firmly state that I am not agreeing to anything. Jedediah will be making the payment."
Anand narrowed her eyes just a bit. I hit a nerve. Was that what the old Vampire wanted me to do?
"I see." She leaned back and opened a drawer on her right, where she retrieved a two-inch stack of paper, clasped together by a silver paperclip. She set it on the desk. "These are my terms."
Just as Jedediah predicted. The only way he could know this would happen with such precision would be that he'd sat in this chair. A lot. And signed contracts with this Goddess.
So I again did what I was instructed to do. I smiled, stood, and bowed to her. "It's been a pleasure to meet you, Miss De Danann. But I am afraid what you might ask, in such a volume of words, would amount to more value than the answer to a simple question. An answer that could prevent more innocents being slaughtered." And now I had to get this last part right. "By the welcoming Crow and the setting Horse, I must ask politely for a safe passage back to the human world."
No reaction. Not even a flinch. It was as if she'd become a statue or the cell of a film stuck on a single frame.
The door we'd entered opened and Macha stepped in. She stopped at the side of the desk and faced us. "Well played, Chevalier. You apparently took a page from the old Vampire's book."
Aberdeen moved just a little closer. Again, I did as Jedediah said and bowed reverently to Macha, though the Vampire hadn't said the Mórrígan would be letting her employees take over negotiations.
Macha bowed to me. "Very well. Ask your question and know you have not agreed to anything. Yet."
I cleared my throat. "Who hired the Brownies that attacked three of the Church of Paths and nearly killed me?"
"That sounds like a clever way to ask more than one question."
"No ma'am. I was with these gentlemen—albeit not in a voluntary manner—when all four of us were attacked by Brownies."
Macha moved to the desk and sat in the now vacant chair. I looked around—where had Anand gone? There was only one visible door and I hadn't seen her leave. When I looked back to the desk, Macha had the papers unclipped and was looking through them. Finally, she said, as she pulled a single page out, "There is one agreement that must be signed." And put it on the desk.
Aberdeen and I didn't touch it—that was a no-no according to Jedediah—but we did lean forward and read it. I had never been a wiz at contract law, whereas Aberdeen was a wiz at language. Especially English.
"It says here," the Gargoyle began in his own wickedly stoic accent. "If I am reading this correctly…" He looked at Macha. "This is an NDA."
Huh? I looked again at the language and read it carefully. An NDA was a Non-Disclosure Agreement. These things were usually required to prevent the recipient of information from sharing it with anyone else. To break an NDA usually held to strict punishments. In most cases, jail time. But I wasn't sure where the punishment was on this sheet of paper.
"That is correct." Macha leaned back in the chair and clasped her hands much like Anand had, only she kept them in her lap. "We don't ask questions of our clients and we don't give out information lightly, depending on their contracts. The one who hired these Brownies wasn't as…" And she nearly smiled. "Cautious as you. Therefore, the information of their identity isn't privileged under their contract."
"Meaning," Aberdeen said, "you can tell us who they are, but only if we don't tell anyone else."
"Precisely."
"I don't see anything in here about consequences if the NDA is broken."
"We reserve the right to present those consequences when the time is right."
I did not like where this was going, and Jedediah didn't give me any instruction on NDAs. Though…he did make a suggestion if the negotiation became less clear and more…fuzzy. "I would wish to add my own addendum to this." I pointed to it.
"Oh?" Macha leaned forward, and I thought I saw her eyes flash black. "And what would that be?"
"That if for whatever reason given, this NDA is broken, there must be a trial of peers to hear this reason and the decision of guilt or innocence would be weighed and decided upon by them."
Aberdeen put a hand on my shoulder. "I wouldn't agree to that."
I looked up at him. I wasn't sure I wanted to, but it was the precise language Jedediah gave me. I'd gone over it and hadn't caught any loopholes in it. I trusted Aberdeen with my life, and had literally done so on several occasions. I always took his advice, but on this—Jedediah had dealt with the Fairies for much longer and Aberdeen didn't know any more than I did.
"We would agree to those terms," Macha said.
But Aberdeen held up a finger
. "Not so fast. I would rephrase it to read, that if for whatever reason given, the NDA is broken, there must be a trial of Ren's peers, no less than three and no more than five, to be judged and chosen by a sponsor named in the agreement. This trial would take place within the human world, and if found innocent, the Mórrígan and her world would have no claim to Ren Grainger, his family, or his friends."
Macha pursed her lips. "I like your way with words, creature."
"And—" Aberdeen held up his finger. "He can share this name with me without impunity."
"Agreed."
"And you must state what the punishment will be in the NDA."
She looked at him, then at me, and nodded. "If found guilty, the Chevalier will become the property of the Mórrígan and all her guises. He will obey her in all things, like any proper knight of a queen would do. He would become her champion, and all his powers would then be hers to command, for no less than a period of one hundred years."
Twelve
"I did not want to sign that," I hissed to Aberdeen as we followed Badb through the blank maze of corridors to the door. I was still remembering the way my hand and fingers tingled when I signed the damned NDA.
In my own blood.
I could still see that woman's smug face when I handed it back to her and the other papers went up in flames, just as Aberdeen insisted. He didn't want that attachment to be placed within them. I was worried about my freedom. It'd been hard won and I wanted to keep it mine. And no one else's.
"Language in such matters is a tricky thing," Aberdeen said as we stepped through another door to a familiar lobby. "I believe there might be a few loopholes…"
I stopped just outside the door and stared up at him. "For who? Me or her?"
"Both."