Immortal

by Pati Nagle

  “That wouldn’t happen now.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “No? We have seen times of reason and unreason come and go.”

  “This is a time of reason, at least in this country.”

  “And will that last through your lifetime?”

  I blinked. Who knew? I was used to thinking things would stay the same, but I knew that anything could happen. There could be a war, a plague, some natural disaster. Worse, some nutbag could start a movement that would threaten people who lived outside the mainstream. McCarthy’s witch hunts had gone on less than a century before. Would Caeran be in danger if he lived among humans when something like that happened?

  “It is you I am trying to protect, as much as Caeran,” Mirali said.

  “Yeah, well. Thanks for the advice.”

  I stared down at my empty cup, feeling miserable. After a moment Mirali rose and took her cup over to the sink. I heard water running, then she came back and stood beside me. I didn’t look up.

  “I wish you well,” she said softly, then left. As she opened the door to the entryway I heard a muted murmur of voices.

  They were having a powwow, trying to figure out what to do about the alben. Me too, maybe.

  Well, I had my own problems to take care of. I carried my dishes to the sink and dumped the remains of my breakfast in the trash, having lost my appetite. I washed the plate and cup, then headed back to my room via the portal.

  = 11 =

  The sun was so bright I wished for my shades, but they were in the car. When I entered my room I could hardly see, it was so dark by comparison. I left the door open, grabbed my cell phone from the dresser, and sat cross-legged on the bed.

  It was later than I’d realized, almost ten. Dave would be at the library. I gritted my teeth and dialed his number.

  “Wharton.”

  “Hi, Dave, it’s Len. I won’t be in today.”

  “You sick?” He sounded annoyed.

  “No, snowbound.”

  “Say what?”

  “I’m in Mora County. I’m snowed in. Sorry.”

  “Great. What are you doing in Mora?”

  “It’s a long story and my phone’s running down. I’ll explain when I see you.”

  I’d have to come up with a feasible explanation, but I had a couple of days for that. Dave grudgingly agreed and I hung up.

  Explanation. Family emergency? That might work. It was sort of true. It just wasn’t my family that had the emergency.

  Next I rang all my profs, trying out my story and explaining that I might miss a week or more of classes. Their reactions ranged from cranky to understanding. I promised to find an Internet connection as soon as I could, and they agreed to email me the assignments. I didn’t have all my textbooks with me, but at least I could try to keep up.

  By the time I was done, my phone was nearly dead. I thought about calling Amanda, but that would probably kill the battery. I decided to save it, just in case some emergency came up. I powered it down, then fetched my pack and took inventory of my resources.

  English Lit textbook. Algebra textbook. Spiral notebooks for both courses. Handouts from American History and French classes, all the way back to the syllabus for the latter. Last week’s campus paper. A science fiction novel I was halfway through. My wallet, keys, a tube of lip balm, half a roll of Life Savers, a packet of tissues, assorted pens and pencils, and one condom.

  Looking at the array spread out over the rumpled bedspread, I felt depressed. I should hit the books, but I had all weekend so instead I kept out the novel and shoveled the rest back into my pack.

  I succeeded in losing myself in the book, but I finished it halfway through the afternoon. As I sat up, yawning, I realized I was hungry. Time for a raid on the kitchen. Maybe I’d run into Madóran and could ask to see his library.

  My door was still open. I hadn’t noticed anyone going past, but then I’d been pretty absorbed in the book. No one was on the portal now. As I stepped out, I saw that the daylight had been dimmed and softened by an overcast of cloud. I frowned, wondering if we’d get hit with more snow.

  In the kitchen a platter of sliced meat and cheese sat next to the ubiquitous loaf of fresh bread. As I put together an improvised sandwich, I wondered if Madóran had a bread machine stashed somewhere. He did have a refrigerator—I found some mustard in there—so he wasn’t entirely opposed to appliances. There had to be a water heater somewhere too, come to think of it.

  No sign of a dishwasher, though. I did remember seeing a washer and dryer. Mental note: wash my clothes.

  I carried my sandwich and a glass of water out to the portal, where there were some chairs here and there facing the courtyard. I was beginning to feel a little claustrophobic, but the birds kept me entertained while I ate. There were some species I couldn’t identify—one a big woodpeckery-looking thing that flashed rusty undersides of its wings when it flew off.

  Where were all the ælven? Were they avoiding me? Still discussing strategy? Out hunting the alben?

  I wished I could do something to contribute, but couldn’t think of a single thing that I could do better than they. Probably they were stronger, faster, smarter than me in every way. This thought reminded me of Mirali’s lecture, and I grimaced. I was not going to get any more depressed over my inadequacy, thank you.

  I got up to take my glass back to the kitchen. All silent. I grabbed one more slice of meat, stuffed it in my face, and went off to check the laundry room. I opened the washer to make sure it was empty, then turned to go collect my clothes from my room. Madóran stood in the doorway.

  I jumped, and let out a small yelp. “You startled me!”

  He tilted his head. “May I help you find something?”

  “I found it.” I gestured to the machines. “OK if I wash my clothes?”

  Madóran’s face relaxed. “Of course. Would you mind first showing the others your picture of the alben?”

  “Oh. Sure. I’ll have to get my phone, it’s in my room.”

  He stepped back from the door, then followed me. I grabbed my phone and went with him to the big front room. All the ælven were there, including two men I hadn’t met, both stamped from Caeran’s mold.

  Caeran himself was perched on the banco by the fireplace. He smiled slightly as I caught sight of him. The others looked surprised, and some displeased, at my appearance.

  “Lenore has captured an image of Gehmanin,” said Madóran. He gestured to me.

  Gehmanin, eh? A mouthful.

  I flipped open my phone and brought up the picture of the alben, wishing it was a better shot, and handed the phone to Madóran. He carried it around, showing it to the others. While he was doing that, I drifted over toward Caeran.

  “Hi. Feeling better?”

  He nodded. “Better, yes.”

  He still looked tired. I wanted to wrap him in blankets, feed him hot cocoa. Other things, too, but I knew better than to think about them in this room full of mind readers.

  My phone emitted a chirp, and I turned to look. Madóran had made it about two thirds of the way around the room.

  “The battery’s running low,” I said. “I don’t have my charger with me.”

  Madóran looked at the phone frowning doubtfully. “We could try my charger.”

  “Sure. Or do you have email?” He gave me a blank stare; I waved a hand. “Never mind.”

  He continued showing the picture around, the rest of the ælven hurrying to gather close. I stayed by Caeran.

  “You’ve been talking all day.”

  He nodded. “Some complications have arisen.”

  Like Madóran being acquainted with the alben? From the way it bothered him, I guessed that they’d been well acquainted, maybe even close. That sucked for Madóran.

  “I hope you are not too bored,” Caeran said, a hint of anxiousness in his voice that I probably wouldn’t have noticed before my little talk with Mirali.

  “Nah.” I smiled to reassure him. “I’ve been reading. I’ve got hom
ework, too, so don’t worry about me getting into trouble.”

  His answering smile was wan. It made me want to gather him up in a hug, but I shouldn’t even be thinking about that. I turned back to Madóran, who stood surrounded by ælven. As I looked, the phone in his hand went dark.

  The ælven stepped back. Madóran returned my phone to me.

  “Thank you. When next we pause, I will bring you my charger.”

  Nodding, I stuck the phone in my pocket. I considered asking about the library, but got the feeling this wasn’t a good time. Instead I gave Caeran one last smile, then headed back to my room. As the door of the front room closed behind me, I imagined I could feel the intensity in there increase.

  In an attempt at virtuousness, I got out my English Lit textbook and read through my next assignment. Had trouble getting into it, though the poetry was beautiful. My thoughts kept drifting back to the ælven, wondering when they would finish their discussion, and what would happen then.

  The third time I realized I’d lost track of my reading, I gave up and shut the book. Studying just wasn’t happening.

  I got up and wandered out onto the portal. The light from the courtyard had gone blue. The cloud cover was thicker, and there were only a few birds in the fountain. I couldn’t check the time on my dead phone, and I hadn’t seen any clocks around the hacienda, but I figured it was late afternoon or early evening. The ælven would break for supper soon, I hoped.

  I went and collected my dirty clothes and the caftan that Madóran had lent me, and carried them to the laundry room. They didn’t take up much of the washer. The only thing I could think of to add was Caeran’s bloodstained shirt that was still out in my car.

  I fetched my keys from my room and went out through the entryway and the small door in the zaguan. Clouds hung low overhead, darker than even a few minutes earlier. Shivering, I hurried toward the car, picking out the door key. A movement to one side caught my eye.

  Someone running toward me across the field, out of the south. It took me a second to register the white hair, the flapping hood.

  I screamed and ran for the hacienda. The alben caught me on the portal before I got to the door. My keys went flying.

  His fingers dug into my arms as he dragged me backward. I shrieked obscenities at him and kicked uselessly, falling to my knees. He yanked my arms so hard I gasped, then the door of the hacienda banged open.

  = 12 =

  I barely glimpsed the three ælven who came out. The alben released me and I slipped, banging my hip on the step as I fell. The ælven were past me in an instant, their feet soundless as they crossed the hollow boards and pursued the alben into the snowy field.

  My hip hurt, my arms hurt, and I was terrified. Tears ran cold down my cheeks as I rolled onto my backside and stared toward the field. They had all vanished.

  I indulged in a moment of blubbering, then got unsteadily to my feet and started looking for my keys in the snow. Voices and footsteps came out of the house.

  Arms wrapped around me, vise-like, pulling me upright. I squeaked, fear overwhelming reason for a moment until I realized it was Caeran holding me, after which I dissolved into tears.

  He stroked my hair, murmuring in my ear. I couldn’t understand what he was saying and didn’t care. It was the tone, the softness in his voice, that soothed me. I struggled to stop crying. He was guiding me back to the hacienda.

  “M-my keys. I dropped them.”

  “I will find them,” someone said nearby.

  I looked up and saw it was Nathrin. I tried to smile, saying, “Thanks.”

  Caeran urged me gently toward the door. I went with him, ignoring the stares of the others. They’d all come outside, even Mirali.

  Caeran took me into the front room and parked me on the banco by the fire. I winced as my hip made contact with the flagstone. I’d have an interesting bruise, for sure. I hoped that was all.

  I shivered despite the warmth of the fire. Freak-out still had me in its grip. Caeran sat next to me and put his arms around me again.

  “I am sorry, Len,” he murmured.

  “Wh-why? Not your fault.”

  “I promised you he would never touch you again.”

  I shook my head, trying to make my teeth stop chattering. “I’m the one who went out.”

  “Yes,” said a stern voice above us, “and you should not have done so. Did I not warn you not to leave the house alone?”

  I looked up at Madóran. “My bad. I w-was just going to my car. Didn’t think …”

  Caeran squeezed my shoulders. “Never mind.”

  “You must not set foot outside unescorted,” Madóran said in a milder tone.

  “Yeah, I get it.”

  He laid a hand on my forehead. I closed my eyes as incredible heat poured into me, banishing the shivers, turning my limbs to liquid. Madóran’s hands moved gently over my arms and my hip, soothing the pain away. My sobs subsided. I felt like I was sitting in a golden pool. When the warm hands went away, I opened my eyes.

  Madóran was kneeling on the floor in front of me, watching me with a tiny frown. I took a deep breath and swallowed.

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded once, then stood and went to speak to some of the others who were returning from outside. Caeran’s kin shot disapproving glances toward me.

  “I should go away,” I said, rubbing at my eyes. They were probably red.

  Caeran’s answer was to tighten his hold on me. I looked at him and his eyes caught me, mesmerizing me just as powerfully as the first time. Everything else slid away, insignificant, until someone came too near to be ignored.

  It was Nathrin. He held out my keychain, and dropped it in my palm when I lifted my hand.

  “Thank you,” I said, sniffing.

  He actually smiled, then raised an eyebrow at Caeran before turning away. I tried for a joke.

  “I sure know how to bring a stop to a party, huh?”

  Caeran laid his cheek against mine. “It is not your fault, and it was hardly a party.”

  “They disapprove of me,” I whispered.

  “Ignore them.”

  His lips brushed my hair with the words, sending a shiver through me that had nothing to do with cold or fear. It felt wonderful sitting with Caeran’s arms around me, but I knew it couldn’t last. Shouldn’t last.

  “I really ought to go wash my face,” I said, making a halfhearted attempt to pull away.

  “You look fine.” Caeran smoothed my hair back.

  “I’m a mess. It’s sweet of you, but let’s be real.”

  I made a more determined move to stand up, and Caeran let me go. Then I made the mistake of looking back at him. His eyes were filled with worry and a hint of pain. That mustn’t be the beginning of worse feelings—I couldn’t let it.

  I managed a feeble smile. “Thanks. I feel a lot better. Maybe I’ll take a hot shower.”

  Another of the ælven came in—the other woman, not Mirali. All the others stopped talking, and Madóran took a step toward her.

  “Any sign?”

  She shook her head. “They are still pursuing him.” She gave me a long, hard look, then moved to the other end of the room.

  Great. Yep, it’s all my fault.

  I headed for the entryway, wanting to get out of there as fast as possible. Tried not to glance back at Caeran. Failed. Gave him a wave, then ducked out.

  An ælven was standing by the front door, on guard, it looked like. He frowned at me, and I hustled across to the kitchen.

  I’d forgotten most of their names. It didn’t help that they all looked so alike.

  In the kitchen I made myself drink a glass of water and eat a handful of nuts from a bowl on the counter. My stomach protested, but didn’t rebel. I filled the glass again and took it with me to the inner portal.

  The courtyard was steeped in shadow, almost dark. I felt oddly exposed, as if I’d lost my coat and was open to the cold night. The air in the enclosed portal was chilly, but it wasn’t a coat that
I was missing. It was Caeran.

  Not wanting to think in that direction, I hurried to my room and pulled the door shut, dousing myself in darkness. I fumbled for a light switch. No luck. I groped my way to the bed and managed to turn on the bedside lamp without knocking it over.

  Very carefully, I set my glass on the table, then sat on the bed and gave in to a fit of the shivers. My arms were still sore where the alben had grabbed me—I could feel the bruises developing. The hot shower was sounding better and better, but I didn’t have any clean clothes to change into. My laundry was still sitting in the washer. I felt tears threatening, only because I was frustrated and overwhelmed.

  Hoping that doing something would help me pull myself together, I went over to the fireplace. The ashes of last night’s fire were cold, and there wasn’t any way to empty them. The only tool was a fireplace poker. I used it to push most of the ash to the side, then stacked fresh wood against the back wall of the kiva in a half-tipi shape.

  There was no kindling, no paper, no matches. How did Madóran build the fires—did he carry all that stuff with him from room to room?

  Actually, he probably didn’t have to build a lot of fires most of the time. Remembering that I was only one of many guests, I decided to do the best I could on my own.

  I raided my spiral notebooks for paper and stuffed it underneath the firewood. A search of all the drawers in the room turned up no matches. Fighting tears of frustration and stress, I decided to wash my face and then go look for matches in the kitchen.

  The portal was still dark. It had been lit the night before; there must be a switch or something somewhere—maybe by the door to the front room. I went that way to look and heard muffled voices from beyond the door. It sounded like they were arguing.

  Not my problem. I was a temporary guest. I’d be leaving—soon, I hoped—and they wouldn’t have to worry about me any more. And no, this was not my fault. I did not bring the alben down on these people. He would have found them without me.