by Martha Carr
Leira hesitated a moment but walked into the dense, grey mist.
At least I can’t see what’s not underneath me anymore, Leira thought as she moved deeper into the cloud. The darkness cleared as swiftly as it had arrived, and she found herself standing in the center of a room with smooth, granite walls, and a marble floor identical to the one she’d seen before.
On the far wall, a fire burned in a marble bowl.
A young elf lay in the center of the room, a male who looked to be about Leira's age. His skin was almost blindingly white and he was dressed in dark green robes that twinkled with light. A braided necklace with a diamond-shaped lavender stone pendant hung from his neck. On his head was an elven crown. He looked like he might be asleep, but Leira knew what she was seeing.
This was their dead son.
“This is my son, Prince Rolim, of the Oriceran Light Elves. I keep this room perpetually shrouded.” The queen touched her son gently. Grief crossed her face and she seemed lost, but only for the moment. “No one enters this room without my express permission, no one,” she said sternly, looking at Leira.
“Message received,” Leira replied. “Tell me why I’m here. Here, specifically. Is this where he died? It looks like you already cleaned up the crime scene,” she said, looking at the perfectly laid out prince. “There isn’t much, if anything to learn here.”
The queen scowled at Bert.
“Is he supposed to be my handler?” asked Leira. “I don’t do well with babysitters. If you want me to work a case, let me work the case.”
Bert stepped forward but the queen held up her hand.
“Let me do what you brought me here to do, or return me to my world and we’ll call all of this a weird dream brought on by a seriously bad breakfast taco,” said Leira. She stood with her hands on her hips, waiting to see who would blink first.
It wasn’t going to be her.
“Fine,” the queen commented while waving a hand in annoyance. “We’re wasting time.”
“Look, why do you need a homicide detective from Earth in the first place? I’m a damn good one, I get that,” Leira said. “But still. Why can’t you figure this out and take care of the guilty party with a swoosh of your hands?” she asked, waving her hands in the air mimicking the Queen.
“Stop!” said Bert. “A little respect.”
She turned to Bert. “You’re going to have to decide if you want protocol or solutions. I can’t do both. Frankly, I can’t do the first one at all, but, if I know you don’t want solutions at least we’ll know how to proceed and we can cut this short,” she said. “Bert here seems hung up on niceties.”
“Bert?” asked the king, frowning.
“Come closer.” The queen held out her hand. “Some things take direct contact.”
It wasn’t until Leira got closer that she saw the tears in the queen’s eyes. She was barely containing her grief.
Leira grabbed her hand and watched a series of fiery symbols materialize on the queen’s arm, as the room faded and changed.
Leira was standing in yet another room made of the same granite walls but open to the sky. There were things on pedestals around the room, each of them illuminated from within.
The king and queen and even Bert were gone. The prince was alive and standing there, arguing with someone who looked more like a human form of trouble from her world. A man, late thirties most likely, average height, dressed in worn brown cowboy boots, work pants and a long-sleeved khaki shirt over a t-shirt with the faded image of a T-Rex on the front.
He was doing his best to look nonchalant, but failing.
“Hello?” said Leira, wondering if the prince would turn and talk to her, but neither one seemed to hear her. There was a low buzzing sound in her head.
“This is only a memory,” the queen’s voice said. Leira could still feel the warmth of her hand, even if she couldn’t see her. “Elves retain the last hour of their lives for four days after death. This is the fourth day.” Leira could hear the grief in her voice. “Normally, it brings comfort to those who remain.”
“The images only project a few yards from the body.” It was Bert, somewhere off to the side.
“This is more than just images,” said Leira, in awe as she looked at the prince. “He looks… alive.”
“Yes, he does,” said the queen, a catch in her voice. “Pay attention to the details. We wasted precious time selecting you and we can’t be sure how strong the images will remain.”
Prince Rolim was holding something. Leira moved closer, still holding on to the queen, to get a closer look.
“That’s a pin of the family crest,” said the king. “We are in the royal relics room. It’s kept hidden at all times. Objects that have powers of their own to begin with are kept here.”
“To begin with?” Leira asked, seeing the look of surprise and anger on the prince’s face. He clearly didn’t know the man who was greedily looking around the room.
“Many of these relics were made stronger. Elves over the centuries have gathered together and imbued certain objects with some of their own power. It’s a kind of safekeeping, meant for future generations or when more power than a single elf can provide may be needed,” said the queen.
“Even royal power,” the king added.
“And that lavender rock is one of those relics, isn’t it? I didn’t see that when we came in,” said Leira.
“That’s because it’s gone,” said the king. “Keep watching.”
The man licked his lips, barely paying attention to the prince.
“How did you get in here?” the prince demanded. “Who helped you? Who are you?” The prince pocketed the pin, making a series of small motions, fiery symbols appearing in front of him. They formed a large ball that formed into images of the man in front of him, crossing over into this world.
“Your name is Bill Somers,” said the prince. “And you are trying to steal a relic from my world.”
“Found a relic. It’s what I do, uncover things. Dig them up. I’m an archaeologist, by trade. Translates to finders keepers in my world,” he said.
“You’re a common thief. You’ve taken a powerful relic from this room. It belongs to me,” said the prince, scowling at the man.
“Well, I did but I’m going to need it,” Bill said, nervously. “I’m on an assignment and this pretty necklace will need to go with me. I’ve waited much too long to prove this world exists.”
“What slime,” said Leira, watching Bill try to justify what he was doing.
“Give me the pendant in your pocket,” Prince Rolim ordered, holding out his hand.
“You can’t take it from me, can you?” Bill’s voice was relieved and delighted. “I have to give it to you. Well, well. So, you have rules too. Good to know.”
The prince gestured and a dagger flew to his hand.
“Hold on now,” said Bill, the nervous smile returning. “No need to get touchy. I get it. It’s your plaything. No reason we can’t both walk away feeling like we got something, now is there?” He had both of his arms up, as if he was trying to let the prince know he was harmless.
“Stop,” Leira said, quietly, knowing her words were useless.
Somers began to twitch. His anxiety was clearly growing, making him dangerous and unpredictable. She watched helplessly, gripping the queen’s hand tighter as she took a step forward to try and stop what she could see coming.
But a wave of light pushed her back.
“Stay where you are,” the queen said in a low voice. “The memories will only let us so close. You can make them break apart by getting too near.”
Leira stopped struggling, watching Bill offer to give back the pendant, bargaining for something else in the room.
“What about a different stone? A magic crystal?” he asked, reaching into his pants pocket with a shaking hand. “Something that can do a little levitating. Or, how about a pretty one that can help me read minds. You have something like that?”
The prince staye
d where he was, his hand outstretched, his anger clearly growing.
“All of you are exactly the same,” said Prince Rolim. “Selfish humans,” he spit angrily. “Nothing in this room belongs to you. These aren’t trinkets you can cheat each other for. Give me the rock and we’ll deal with how you got here. And who helped you.”
A braided gold necklace slipped out of Bill’s pocket and dangling from the end was a similar piece of lavender rock, held in place by gold prongs. It was the same one Leira saw on the prince’s body.
“That necklace,” said Leira. “I saw it on the prince’s body.”
“It’s a copy that was there in a display case. Another relic. We put it on him for a reason. Objects can take on energy from traumatic events,” said the king.
“Like a murder,” said Leira.
“Yes,” the queen said, “like a murder. Having this one on my son’s body has helped make the memory stronger. It might even buy us time, if we need it.”
“I know that kind of rock. I’ve seen something like it before,” said Leira, trying to remember where. She felt the queen squeeze her hand tightly. The end must be near, thought Leira.
“How can you stand to watch this?” Leira asked quietly.
“I have to,” said the queen. “My beautiful son was only one hundred and twenty-five years old. In our years, that makes him the same age as you. He had hundreds of years left to live. Children to father, to continue our line, the Oriceran line. All of that was taken from him by a human.”
Somers dangled the necklace in front of his chest, his arm close to his body, a sheen of sweat on his face. Leira's eyes swept the scene, taking in every detail.
The archaeologist kept talking, buying himself time. He snuck glances at the door as if he expected someone to rescue him.
“An accomplice,” Leira said, softly. “Even with all your magic, we’re not that different. A crime plays out pretty much the same way.”
Leira watched the prince lunge forward to grab the necklace out of Somers’ hand. Somers held the necklace against his body and stepped back. He fell against a display case, knocking the relic loose. The prince saw his chance and pulled at the thick chain. Somers’ eyes widened and he pulled back, shoving the prince with his other hand as he tried to regain his balance.
The prince pulled on the necklace, and Somers stumbled into him, struggling to hold onto the necklace, grabbing the prince’s arm with his other hand. They struggled, twisting and turning, making it hard for Leira to see exactly what was happening, until it was too late. The prince staggered back, the dagger deep in his chest.
The anger drained from the prince’s face, replaced by surprise and pain. He looked into Bill’s eyes, still clinging to the necklace.
The queen’s grip tightened, almost twisting Leira's knuckles.
Leira ignored the pain and focused on what was happening—at least in memory—right in front of her.
“What?” Somers looked down and saw the blade of the dagger buried to the hilt in the prince’s chest. He let out a startled cry, still holding on to the prince.
Prince Rolim tried to pull away, to lift his arm, as if that would help. He opened his mouth to speak but only a gurgle emerged, followed by a thin stream of silvery blood. Leira heard the queen sob quietly.
Focus, Leira, she thought. Do your job.
Somers panicked and pulled the knife out in one swift motion, pushing the prince back, watching him teeter for a moment before falling. He fell to the floor, barely alive, his eyes still open, staring up at the sky, the pendant still in his grasp. A shimmer of light surrounded him, growing dimmer.
Somers stood for a moment, turning his head to see if help was coming but doing nothing to summon anyone. “No,” he said with a shudder, as he panicked and stepped over the Prince’s body. He reached down at the last moment and tugged the relic from the prince’s hand, pocketing it. The shimmer of light faded till it was gone.
There were tears in his eyes as he moved toward the door. At the last moment he turned and snatched some of the smaller artifacts in the room, filling his pockets. He looked back one last time and mumbled, “Sorry, I never…you shouldn’t have...” and fled.
The images started to fade and the room Leira had first entered emerged. The queen was staring at the spot where her son had fallen as she let go of Leira's hand. The low buzzing in Leira's head finally stopped, making the room eerily quiet.
She looked at them, not wanting to break the silence.
CHAPTER FIVE
“That was a lot to take in,” she said finally, trying to keep her focus. “I’ve never been present at the ‘before’ part of a murder investigation.”
Bert looked at the stricken queen and quickly created a chair of light, catching her before she fell.
“Take Leira to the place where we think the killer escaped back to her world,” said the king, his voice heavy with grief. “Answer any of her questions. Give her whatever she needs.” He knelt by his wife, taking her hand. The queen had not been able to look away from the memory, or look back at her son’s body behind her.
“Yes, your majesty,” said Bert, turning to go. “Follow me,” he said, waving at Leira.
“For what it’s worth, the prince was wrong about one thing,” said Leira.
“Come. Now,” said Bert.
“About what?” asked the queen, looking back at Leira, tears shimmering on her face.
“The selfish part. Not all humans are selfish. Some can be very kind. It’s just that when you get a bad one, or a pathetically weak one, they tend to not have limits on the harm they cause. Makes people like me necessary.”
“We have the same kind of evil in our world,” said the king, gently kissing the top of the queen’s head.
“If that’s the case,” Leira asked, “why do you need me? I can’t do any magic.”
“Precisely.” The queen, held her gaze. “The killer used no magic, left no trail marking his evil. Magic won’t solve this crime. To make things worse, he appears to have gotten away cleanly to your world. It’s difficult for us to travel there without being seen. There are rules about all of this,” she said, a sob escaping from her throat.
“Enough,” the king said firmly, eyeing both his wife and Leira.
“I’m sorry,” said Leira. The dark cloud grew around her for moment, just as quickly pulling away, until she found herself back, standing in the middle of the sky, the valley far below her feet once again. Her stomach lurched and she tripped forward, still surprised to feel a floor beneath her feet when she couldn’t see one.
“Can we stand on actual ground?” she asked, her eyes wanting to shut. “I can’t concentrate hanging around like this.”
“As you wish,” said Bert, drawing symbols in front of them. Leira shut her eyes, trying to cut down on the nausea, and opened them again to find herself transported, standing in a garden of neatly trimmed low hedges and paved walkways with stone benches lining one side. She took a seat and put her head between her legs.
“Think what you want,” she said, her head still down. “I’m not puking today.”
She saw his moccasined feet stop in front of her.
“I can wait,” he said.
“Sit down next to me,” she said, patting the bench next to her. “Don’t stand in front of me like that.” She put her head in her hands and took in long, even breaths. Finally, she was able to lift her head.
Bert was watching her patiently.
She looked up at him, “That’s kind of creepy, Bert.”
“I’m letting the name thing go for now,” he said, a slight frown on his face. “Ask me your questions.”
“Why me, would seem to be the most obvious one.” She asked, still rubbing the side of her temples.
“You’re a homicide detective, a good one.”
“And?”
“And Bill Somers escaped to your hometown of Austin. We believe he’s moved on but you will be able to follow him. He has no reason to think he didn’t get awa
y with his crime.”
“What are you going to do with him when I find him?” she asked, taking another deep breath.
“You’re confident you’ll find him. Good. We’ll try him. We’re not Kilomea.”
“I’d ask what those are, but I have a feeling that’s a rabbit hole of information.”
“They’re ugly, large creatures built for warfare. They live in the northwestern part of the land,” said Bert, pointing off in a direction towards his left.
“We’re going there with all of the crazy, magical things, aren’t we?” said Leira. “Okay, go ahead. How many kinds of beings are there in this world? At least the ones who can talk, cause trouble, look kind of human.”
“There are about a dozen,” said Bert. “To start with there are the witches and wizards who keep to themselves. Many of them belong to an Order that serves a group known as the prophets. There are Dark Elves who live on the other side of the Great Forest, and the Wood Elves who inhabit parts of the forest and watch over it.”
“The king mentioned them when we arrived. He was trying to avoid them,” said Leira. “Are they dangerous?”
“No, there is a treaty. Those days have passed. He was trying to avoid letting it be known we willingly brought a human over to this side.”
“Against your rules. I’d do a better job if I knew what they are, at least the main ones. Is there a chance I can get a list of them?”
“There’s not enough time,” said Correk. “You’ll be back on your world soon and then you will be able to go back to what you know.”
“Fair enough. Come on, let’s walk around the grounds,” said Leira, standing up slowly, feeling a little better. “I do better when I’m moving.”
“Very well,” said Bert. “These are the royal gardens. This is a low maze. You can see over the top. It’s really for the young elves amusement. We can make our way to the queen’s garden, among the enchanted trees and talk there. No one will be able to hear us.”