“It’s not about just that! He’s a danger to her, and you know it!”
Jens held up his hand to shut Foss up. “Give me a minute to think.” He put the butt of his knife to his temple as his eyebrows scrunched together in contemplation. “It’s not up to me or you. Jamie and Lucy are the ones who get to decide what to do with Tucker. They’re the ones he kidnapped. It can’t be about me or you. It has to be about them.”
Crap. I knew I didn’t want Foss to slaughter him in cold blood, but I didn’t have a better solution. Tucker was dangerous when left unchecked. He deserved punishment for what he’d done.
But I needed an elf to do some hocus pocus ninja action when we found Linus’s body. Mom said to get an elf to perform a bonding charm once I poured Linus’s soul back into his body.
Yeah, I heard it. I know it sounds crazy.
I looked to Jens and pointed to the spot on my clavicle where my Linus necklace used to rest. First things first.
“Oh, right.” Jens addressed Tucker. “Where’s Lucy’s necklace? You took it from her when you abducted and drugged my girl.”
Tucker nodded slowly, reaching down into his pocket and pulling out the thing that made me breathe a little easier. I snatched it from him and fastened it around my neck in the next second. I’d been parted from Linus for too long.
Britta dropped Jamie’s hand, and he walked over to me, his face grave. I know you need Linus back, but there are thousands of elves who could help.
Sure. It doesn’t have to be Tucker. But this doesn’t feel right, Jamie.
He sighed. I know. But we can’t just let him go, either. He’s partly responsible.
Sure, but he was trying to bust us out after the sirens went crazy on us. That counts for something.
Something, but not everything. Jamie’s mind flitted from option to option, considering things for two seconds at a time that I didn’t understand the entirety of. I don’t understand why you’re fighting so hard to keep Tucker alive. Everyone already assumes he’s dead. There’s no life for him to return to here.
It’s not for him, it’s for Jens. Don’t you think he’s lost enough? Tucker’s one of his closest friends. I can’t take that away from Jens. Could you? I can’t ask Jens to kill his friend. I swallowed hard. I had to kill Tonya’s body, and I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive myself for it.
Jamie hugged me. It wasn’t Tonya, syster. You killed the Mouthpiece, not Tonya.
I know, but this really is Tucker. I don’t want Jens to live with this for the rest of his life.
Jamie and I looked over at Jens with a fond protectiveness, who returned our stares inquisitively, brushing his shirt off as if we were noticing a stain. “It’s rude when you two do that, you know, but whatever. One day when you two get your voices back, I don’t want any more of this psychic talking stuff.”
Yeah, Jens is dreamy, I said, my silly sarcasm finding its way to the surface in the grim apartment. But he won’t be okay if he has to kill his friend. Tucker should live, but you’re right, he can’t go unchecked. He’s too powerful to be allowed to make reckless decisions like that. We should get him a houseplant to take care of. Get him some actual responsibility to tie him to reality.
Jamie closed his eyes, his expression that of Linus being presented with a salad full of tomatoes. He pulled me tighter into the hug, resting his chin atop my head. Do you know that I love you?
Of course. I love you, too, big brother.
He exhaled his discontent into my curls and nodded. I’m doing this for Jens and for you, just for the record. I don’t actually need this.
Doing what? Did you think of something?
I took part of you when we laplanded that Jens will never have. I can never give it back to him, but I can do this for him. I can keep Tucker alive and make him useful, grounded, so Jens doesn’t have to lose another person he loves.
Jamie released me and motioned for a pen and paper, which Britta produced by rummaging around in a few drawers in the bedroom. Jamie scribbled out, Can you perform a bonding charm? and showed the paper to the despondent Tucker.
“What? Yes. Of course I can.”
Jamie nodded and wrote out two more simple sentences that set loose a mic-drop of epic proportions to everyone else, but made little sense to me. Gasps sounded all around the room as Jens read aloud, “‘If Britta’s okay with it, Tucker can either choose to die or he can be my vakt. I don’t care which.’”
Twenty-Five.
Vakt
After about ten minutes of everyone going bonkers with arguing and questioning and basically acting like children, I gave up trying to understand what they were talking about and flopped on the smelly sofa chair. Tucker’s hands were still clasped behind his neck, though his eyes were far away and deep in thought as he remained on his knees.
Though I’d been working my way up to being actually physically fit, I was nowhere near it. The small exertion of standing for so long and enduring the emotional nonsense was taxing. Despite the chair’s cigar stink, I curled up in it, bringing my knees to my chest and staring blandly at the drawn blinds. I wanted Indian food – buckets of the stuff. I wanted a bed that wasn’t at the Huldras and hadn’t been burned to the ground. Tucker was the man who destroyed my life while trying to save it. Through my childhood and now into adulthood, his flapping cape left a trail of wreckage. I resented him, and in many ways had a healthy fear of the damage he could do with a cool smile on his face. But underneath the monster mask, I could see the error of it all. The error of my hatred and misdirected fear. Though part of me wished him dead, I knew I couldn’t pull the trigger. Heck, I couldn’t even give Foss the bullets so he could pull the trigger.
Whatever a vakt was, it was decided the offer would be put to Tucker to choose between death and doing whatever the other thing entailed. Tucker looked up to Jamie’s kneecaps and nodded. “I’ll take the oath tonight, if you can procure the tools.”
Foss was not mollified. “This won’t be like how it is with Jens. You’re Jamie’s slave until you’ve repaid the debt you owe him. That’s whatever a prince’s life is worth, you chewed up piece of garbage. Then you can be a proper vakt.”
Jens glowered at Foss. “I don’t know what you’ve been smoking, but vakts aren’t slaves. It’s our choice to protect, not our job to shine shoes and make beds and whatnot.”
Jamie held up his hand to Foss and shook his head. The prince had lived on his own amongst his people without slaves; I couldn’t imagine him being cool with things changing so abruptly.
Foss huffed. “Fine. You nearly got my wife killed. You’ll be her slave until I say otherwise. Then you can live out your days as Jamie’s vakt, keeping her safe through their bond while you look out for Jamie. Maybe by then you’ll have learned a little bit about your place in the world. How to act without endangering the thing you’re trying to help. Useless.”
Tucker looked up at Jens from his spot on the floor on all fours with a mournful expression. “Please don’t make me do this. You know I’m best on my own. I was meant for more than guard duty. I didn’t mean for any of this to blow up like it did. You have to believe me.”
Jens crossed his arms over his chest, his knife pressed against his massive bicep. “I believe you, but this is the second time you’ve almost killed my girlfriend. And there’s no shame in being a vakt. I’m not beneath you, Tuck. My job has just as much honor and prestige as yours. But nice to know how you’ve really felt about me all these years.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Tucker grimaced. “I’m an elf, though. My life will far outlast Jamie’s. Your life sentence is nothing compared to what you’re asking me to do!”
Jens nodded, glancing toward Jamie, who rolled his eyes and waved his hand to give Jens the green light to make whatever deal was necessary for the situation. “Fair point. You can take your oath for a normal lifetime, then. After sixty more years passes, you’re free to seduce old ladies and be as stupid as you’d like.”
Tucker
hung his head, weighing the pros and cons of dying on the spot versus six decades of being useful.
Britta was fed up with the stalling. Her knife glinted against the lamplight. “I don’t care how you mean it or how you feel about doing real work instead of playing with matches as you please. Vakt or die. I don’t care which. But I won’t go to sleep tonight wondering if you’ll put my husband in danger another day. Choose now, or my knife will choose for you.” It was clear by Britta’s grip on the hilt what her choice would be for the playboy who was four times her age.
What the crap is a vakt, Jamie? I asked, growing weary of no one talking to me, yet making decisions that would directly affect me.
Oh! I’m sorry, syster. Jens is a guardian gnome, so he’s a Tomten vakt. An elf who takes the same vow of guardianship for a family is called an elfin vakt. Same thing, just different races.
I thought personal guards were only Tomten.
No. They can be any race, really. They’re just not all that common anymore. I put it out there that Tucker should be mine. Then we can keep an eye on him, and it would mean extra protection for us and the baby.
I sighed. Okay. But then we’re saddled with Tuck for the rest of eternity. He’s kind of more trouble than he’s worth, in my opinion. His help is dangerous.
That’s him helping unchecked. The vow ensures he’ll act in protection of our family. He scratched the back of his neck. At the rate we’re going, that might not be a terrible idea.
I closed my eyes and exhaled, trying to play the part of a reasonable adult when what I really wanted to do was run. Oh, how I dreamed of running away from all of them. I wanted to snatch up Jens’s hand and bolt for the nearest airplane, never looking back.
Linus. I had to find Linus first, and then the three of us could run.
If only.
Thanks a lot, Jamie grumbled. Nice to know you’d ditch us if we didn’t have the bond.
I didn’t bother excusing my thoughts, but instead shut the door between our shared psyche so I could indulge in a moment of private dreaming.
Twenty-Six.
A New Start
Jens returned from his trip to who knows where of gathering all the things he needed to turn Tucker into a sensible adult who cared about the welfare of others. It was no surprise to me that this great feat required magic.
Foss had his long machete trained on the kneeling elf in case he tried any funny business. It was making me jumpy, and I wished the whole thing could just be done with.
There was little to help with, as Jens, Jamie and Britta were the ones most familiar with the process. They set about making what looked like a potion and smelled like rotting chicken and eggs in the kitchen on the stove. I knew it shouldn’t, but the stench reminded me that I should be eating like a linebacker if I wanted to get healthier. I nudged Foss’s machete out of the way and tapped Tucker on the shoulder, miming eating something when he turned to look at me.
“What?”
I repeated the motion, hoping it wasn’t too rude I was asking to raid his cupboards.
“You’re hungry? There isn’t much here, but you can order whatever you like. Phone’s in the kitchen.”
I glanced up at Foss with a silent request he use his voice to order takeout for us. He responded with a frustrated huff. “Fine. What do you want?”
I shrugged, not knowing how to sign “Chinese food” without just finger spelling for him, which he wouldn’t be able to understand. I mouthed for him to pick whatever.
“Look, slave,” Foss growled at Tucker, “you move a muscle, and I’ll hear about it. Don’t make me use this.” He pushed his machete through the sheath on his belt and left for the kitchen.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Tucker commented when it was just the two of us in the quaint living room’s lamplight.
I nodded, pointing to my throat.
“Why aren’t you talking?”
I really had no way to act this out that would make sense to Tucker, so I got up and retrieved Jamie’s pen and paper, scrawling as briefly as I could the incident with the collar and the shock therapy, plus the burning honey-like substance they’d used in the beginning to burn our throats and render us mute.
The paper fell from Tucker’s trembling fingers. “They did what?”
I touched my throat in response.
“Lucy, I’m so sorry. I had no idea they would take such a brutal route. They said they could help, so I assumed it would be, I don’t know, old roots they had growing underground or something.” His shame-filled gaze could barely look at me, but he kept his eyes on my neck as if in study. “I might be able to help speed along the healing.”
I recoiled from him, drawing my feet up to my chest to get away from his dangerous brand of “help”.
Tucker nodded, turning back away from me. “I understand. It’s just a few simple herbs and a reparerande charm. You’d probably be talking again in a few minutes. I won’t know the extent of the damage unless I can feel the area, but I can’t imagine it’ll heal on its own any time soon.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and looked out the window, doing my best to ignore him. While I didn’t wish him dead for Jens’s sake, I didn’t want him in my business, either.
The others came out with their concoction of liquid gag in a mug, somber faces all around. This was a big deal, a ceremonial permanence that was being done in secret to a dead man.
Tucker rose slowly, wary of Foss’s violent swings, and took the blue “If it’s not emptied, don’t talk to me yet” mug. He looked into the chunky, smelly slop with the saddest expression I’d ever seen on the cocky man. “I could’ve ported, you know. I could’ve left instead of making this choice. I hope you see that I’m not running from my responsibility, from what I did.”
Jens crossed his arms over his chest. “You know if you did try to hide, I’d find you. There’s no running from the damage you did. Now drink your medicine.”
Tucker postured, finally looking Jens in the eye. “Fine, but I’m no one’s slave. I’ll repay my sins by protecting Jamie and his family, but I’ll not be talked down to like a servant. I’m choosing this instead of running or dying. It’s a great service I’m doing him, and I won’t have that overlooked.”
Foss opened his mouth to argue, but Jamie held up his hand, earning the silence he demanded. He met Tucker’s eye and nodded, his mouth drawn in a tight line. He extended his hand to Tucker, and the two shook as equals, and without grudges or anger just waiting to be unleashed on the other.
“And to this end, I swear it.” Tucker took a centering breath before downing the entire contents of the mug with his eyes closed. No sooner had he swallowed the last drop did his body start trembling. He dropped the mug to the floor, and as the ceramic shattered, his knees clacked together.
I was caught by surprise when Tucker’s legs gave out, but Jens was not. He caught his old friend and lowered him gently to the ground away from the mug’s shards. He grabbed a thin book from the wobbly end table and shoved the hard spine into Tucker’s mouth as the man’s teeth began to chatter violently. Though I’d experienced a seizure (thanks to Elsa and Tucker), I’d not seen one play out at my feet. The others backed up, but I couldn’t just sit around and watch the mayhem. I dropped to the floor and held Tucker’s left arm down while Jens manned the right side and his head, which thrashed around like a vibrating ball. Tucker’s muffled howling scared me, though I tried not to let it show.
Jens called over his shoulder, “Jamie, take Lucy and go outside!”
Jamie didn’t need to be told twice, but I sure as smack did. I shook my head, unable to leave someone who was writhing around like he was being dowsed in acid.
It was my laplanded buddy who extracted me from the mayhem and gently pushed me out into the hallway. His hand was tight over mine as he set about explaining the way of the world to me. This is all normal, but it’s about to get ugly in there.
I scoffed. Like I’m afraid of ugly. Stop little woman-ing me. Tucker�
�s really hurting!
Jamie was serene through my criticism. Jens is in charge, and he doesn’t want you there for this. You have to respect the leader. Don’t you trust Jens yet?
I… Well, he… I had no coherent retort, only spluttering. Don’t you know me yet?
Tucker’s shouts turned into screams, and then mutated to choking as what sounded like gurgling blocked his windpipe.
He can’t breathe! I cried, trying to push Jamie aside so I could get back in there. I knew the Heimlich and CPR.
Jamie’s arms went around me in a hug that was nothing like affectionate. He was restraining me, and I despised that I was still weak enough that I couldn’t overpower him. He braced himself against my thrashing and dragged me in my hug down the hall. This is all part of taking the vow! He’s fine. If he survives, it means he’s worthy of the task, and the pain will pass.
I was floored. If? If?! Tucker was howling, and as much as I was still mad at him, I didn’t believe in torture – especially after having experienced it myself. You’ll kill him!
Then he was meant to die! Don’t you see? If he lives, we know we can trust him. If he dies, well, then Jens didn’t have to sully his knife with his friend’s blood. Jamie dragged me down the stairs as I fought him, skidding my feet on the soiled carpet to slow him down.
“Jamie!” Britta protested, running after us. “Jamie, put her down! You have to get in there to revive Tucker when his heart stops!”
Alarms were going off in my head, and I protested harder. You’re going to kill him!
Britta followed us outside. “I can watch her. Go on up, or this whole mess will have been for nothing.”
Jamie nodded after releasing me with a stern look and a warning to stay away.
I signed to Britta that I needed to be back up there, but she shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Lucy, but you can’t. Tucker will be fine. He chose the vakt, so he’ll be able to transition without a problem. We just have to be patient.” She pointed up the street. “Walk with me. When Jens went through the process, it took several hours of suffering I wish I’d never witnessed.” She had a haunted look in her eyes. “Tucker will be fine.”
Lucy at War Page 12