Immortal

by Pati Nagle

  We filed outside, onto the front portal, facing east. The clear sky above the horizon glowed pink, and the quality of the daylight was muted. No more shadows. The sun had set.

  I held the edges of my cloak together in front of me, one arm sticking out as I clung to Caeran’s hand. He stepped closer. We stood waiting, watching the light fade. The pink was gone from the sky when the ælven began to stir and whisper.

  They’d seen him. I peered toward the horizon, straining to catch any sign of movement. After a minute I saw him walking across the field.

  Adrenaline punched me and I tensed. Caeran’s hand tightened around mine.

  He will not touch you.

  I nodded, fighting down the instinct to run. To a hunter like that, it would only be an invitation.

  The alben crossed the driveway, glancing at my car as he passed it. His lip curved in disdain as if he didn’t like how it smelled.

  You’re the one who torched it, asshole.

  I didn’t want to think his name. He didn’t deserve a name. He didn’t hear me either, apparently, or if he did he chose to ignore me.

  He stopped at the edge of the portal and looked up at Madóran. “You wished to talk?”

  “Swear you will make no move to harm any of these folk,” Madóran said, taking in the gathered ælven and me with a gesture.

  The alben glanced at us, his gaze lingering on me for a second, then nodded. “I swear.”

  “And we in turn swear to let you leave in peace.”

  The alben tilted his head, looking amused. “So, now that we have finished swearing, what do you wish to discuss?”

  “Your departure,” said Madóran. “We wish you to leave this land.”

  The alben looked around as if admiring Madóran’s property. “But I only just arrived, and I rather like it.”

  “You will leave here, leave the country, and not return for ten years.”

  The alben laughed. “Ten years?”

  “In ten years time, I may have the beginnings of a cure for your ailment.”

  The laughter ceased abruptly. The alben’s eyes sharpened as he stared at Madóran. “So it is true? You continued to seek a cure?”

  Madóran nodded. A look of painful hope came into the alben’s face.

  “I knew you would! You never give up, even when hope is beyond reach.”

  “Especially then.”

  The alben laughed again, and excitement sparked in his eyes. “So you will help me!”

  “I cannot help you now, Gehmanin.”

  “But if you have found a cure—”

  “I have not. Only a new avenue to pursue. It will take at least ten years for me to know whether a cure is possible.”

  The alben frowned, hope fading. “And in the meantime you banish me?”

  “Yes.” Madóran’s voice took on its stern tone. “If anyone here or any of my neighbors comes to harm, I will cease to look for a cure.”

  “You cannot hold their misadventures against me!”

  “Not if you are outside the country, true. I suggest you leave at once.”

  The alben’s nostrils flared, and his eyes blazed fury until he lidded them, looking down at the ground. His shoulders moved with his sharp breathing. I shifted closer to Caeran, frightened of the hunter. Gradually the alben calmed, until he raised his head once more and spoke in softer tones.

  “A word, Madóran?”

  Caeran stiffened. I heard a whispered, “No!” from down the portal.

  Madóran raised a hand, gesturing for peace. He stepped toward the alben, who smiled now, and held out a hand as if to shake hands. Madóran clasped his arm as I’d seen the ælven do. The alben’s smile widened.

  Suddenly he spun and jerked Madóran’s arm, slinging him over his shoulder. He was off and running across the field before the ælven could cry out.

  = 16 =

  “God dammit!” I yelled, wrenching my hand from Caeran’s and digging in my pocket for my keys as I ran to my car.

  “Len, no!”

  “Get in if you’re coming!”

  I yanked open the driver door and threw myself into the car, mashing the key into the ignition and pumping the gas as I cranked the sleepy engine. The car was cold and stank of burned plastic.

  Ælven ran across the driveway in front of me, pursuing the alben. I pulled my trailing cloak into the car and slammed my door. Heard the other doors opening, felt the weight of passengers getting in, front and back.

  The engine roared to life and I floored it, tires spinning in the snow until they got traction. I careened off down the driveway, trusting the ælven to stay out of my way. They had much faster reflexes.

  “Damn that bastard! That sonofabitch! Can you see him?”

  “No,” Caeran said beside me. “They have reached the woods.”

  I was driving too fast, pissed because I knew I probably wasn’t helping much, if at all. The alben could evade me by going cross-country. Best I could do was maybe limit his choices.

  “I do not understand,” said someone from the back seat. “Why did Madóran not fight?”

  “Bastard probably zapped him,” I said, glancing in the rear-view mirror at the two guys in the back—Nathrin and one of the others, Lomen maybe.

  “Len!”

  I looked back at the driveway and stomped on the brakes. I was nearly to the road.

  The car fishtailed in the snow, throwing my unbelted passengers around until I got it under control just short of ramming into Madóran’s beautiful gatepost. I turned right, heading for Guadalupita down a highway that was slushy but mostly clear. The sand trucks had been out, and the warm day had melted most of the snow.

  “You might want to fasten your seat belts,” I said.

  Murmuring voices from the back as Nathrin helped Lomen figure that out. I kept my eyes on the road, watching for any flicker of movement. The alben would probably stay in the trees as much as he could, avoiding the open fields and meadows. That would narrow his choices, too.

  “Have they crossed the road?” I wondered aloud.

  “I think not,” Caeran said.

  “Can you tell where they are?”

  He closed his eyes, frowning in concentration. I slowed down as a pair of headlights approached from the south.

  My heart was pumping. I didn’t care how sentimental Madóran felt, that damn alben was going to die.

  Caeran stirred. “They are heading south.”

  I looked away from the headlights as they passed, a white glare leaving the night darker behind it. What was south of here? Guadalupita, then Mora. Where could the alben be going?

  A long chase wouldn’t be advantageous for him, burdened with Madóran. He’d want to go to ground as soon as possible. I didn’t think he’d try the bar, though—folks there would probably be unhappy to see Madóran unconscious over his shoulder. So where?

  Human hostages were a complication he couldn’t afford right now. One more thing to keep control of. So a barn or something would be better than a house.

  It would be a standoff. The ælven were on him; they’d follow him until he stopped. He’d have to count on holding them off with a threat. Against Madóran’s life?

  Cold went through me as I thought of another possibility. Maybe he wanted to infect Madóran. Misery loves company.

  “Sonofabitch,” I whispered.

  Caeran looked at me. I sped up, not that it would help, but because I felt helpless.

  Guadalupita flashed by, the bar and the post office. I drove on toward Mora.

  “Still moving?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  Caeran gazed out the window. The two in the back were silent.

  The few miles to Mora zipped by. There wasn’t much traffic, for which I was glad. Folks were either at home or at the bar.

  When I began to see more buildings I slowed down. Mora was a bigger town, but if it had a bar I didn’t know it. Barns, yes. There was some kind of big storage building on the raspberry ranch, I thought. It was too dar
k by now for me to see.

  Caeran leaned forward. “They are just ahead. They have stopped moving.”

  We were coming up on the junction. I frowned, wondering where they might be. Not in the raspberry store …

  The old mill! Nothing in there right now. Plans to make it a museum—it was already on the historic register. But unoccupied, and big.

  I pulled into the parking lot at the raspberry store, just north of the mill. No sense in announcing our arrival. I got out, hugging my cloak around me. The air was sharp, but clean. I took a deep lungful and coughed at the cold.

  The others followed me down the shoulder toward the mill. A pale form stood at the north end of the building—Bironan. He glanced at us and nodded, gesturing to the mill.

  The building paralleled the highway, ending at the intersection. It was long and fairly narrow, built of huge dark beams of lumber that had once been massive and were now rickety.

  I could see another ælven standing down by the junction, near the far end of the mill. Couldn’t tell who.

  Bironan pulled my passengers aside and conferred with them in hushed voices. I held my cloak tight and paced to keep warm, angry at being excluded.

  After a few minutes, Caeran came to me. The others began moving toward the mill.

  “Len, please wait at the car.”

  I frowned. “Let me stand watch or something. I won’t interfere. I’ll feel safer with you.”

  “You will be a liability.”

  His tone was stern, almost sounding like Madóran. I hated knowing he was right. Stupid feeble human body.

  “I’ll wait here.”

  I stepped over to the corner of the newer building that held the raspberry store, and leaned against the stone wall. Caeran sighed.

  “Do not move from there.”

  “Right. Hurry back.”

  I watched him catch up with the others, fast and silent. It was weird watching four men move without making a sound.

  The alben must know he was surrounded. What would he do? What were they going to try?

  The ælven disappeared against the darkness of the mill. The one I had seen earlier by the junction moved into shadow and I lost track of him as well. I strained to hear something, anything. They were too good; not even a creak from the old wooden building.

  Since I couldn’t see anything anyway, I closed my eyes and pictured Madóran, then surrounded him with white light. Please, I thought, not sure who I was asking—God or whatever—please protect him.

  A shout made me jump. The alben’s voice, harsh, imperative, speaking words I didn’t know. A moment later someone called back. The alben interrupted, short and sharp. After that it was silent.

  Long minutes went by. I stood straining to hear, but no more voices reached me. Maybe they were talking mentally, and I couldn’t hear. Frustrated, I took a few steps forward.

  No moon, and I couldn’t see much by starlight. I wanted to go investigate, but I’d promised to stay put.

  Caeran?

  I bounced from foot to foot, hating inactivity. Finally a figure came toward me out of the darkness. Caeran.

  “What’s going on?” I whispered.

  “It is a standoff. Gehmanin is holding Madóran at knife-point inside the building. He swears he will kill him if we do not leave.”

  “That’s a lie. He doesn’t want Madóran dead.”

  “We have no alternative.”

  “Yes you do. Let me talk to him.”

  “No! Absolutely not, Len.”

  “He can infect any of you, but not me.”

  “He will kill you without a thought.”

  “No, because he needs me. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

  I could feel Caeran glaring at me, even though I couldn’t see his face very well in the dark. I stepped closer and put a hand on his arm.

  “I’ll talk to him about the research. He seemed interested in that earlier.”

  “It was only a ruse to make Madóran come within reach.”

  “Partly, maybe. But I think I can make him listen.”

  “No.” His voice held a flat, uncompromising tone. “It is too dangerous.”

  I ran my hand up his arm to his shoulder and leaned in. “You haven’t hesitated to face danger. You’ve done it repeatedly in the last week. You saved my life a couple of times, for which thank you, by the way. Now it’s my turn.”

  “Len, no.” His voice was softer now, more pleading than ordering, and that was harder to resist. He put his arms around me. “I cannot bear to lose you so soon.”

  I drew a shaky breath. “You won’t lose me. I’ll stay by the door, I promise.”

  “He can compel you—”

  “Why would he, though?”

  Caeran’s answer was a wall of darkness that I could feel. Was I sensing his khi? It didn’t matter.

  “He won’t eat me. I’ll make him curious before he has the chance.”

  I could feel Caeran’s breathing, faster than usual. His confidence was shaken, something I hadn’t observed before. I struggled to hide my own doubts.

  “Please, just let me try. If he won’t listen I’ll get out of there.”

  “I will go with you.”

  “He won’t let you.”

  “I will stay outside the door. If he makes a move against you… .”

  I swallowed. If the alben moved against me, all hell would break lose.

  “OK,” I said.

  Suddenly Caeran was kissing me ravenously. I gave back with enthusiasm, so much so that my loins ached to be elsewhere, someplace warm with a bed. Finally I pulled away.

  “We’d better explain to the others.”

  “I will do so,” Caeran said. He offered his arm—the quaint formal gesture I’d come to love—and led me toward the mill.

  He must have done his explaining on some mental plane that I wasn’t in on. As we neared the mill, the other ælven gathered around the door. Tiruli was there; I could tell by her shape, and even by her khi a little, I thought.

  Bironan came close to whisper to me. “We are grateful to you for making this attempt. We will defend you.”

  “Right. Thanks,” I whispered. “Hopefully there won’t be a need.”

  The door to the mill sagged, leaving gaps above and at the side. Darkness leaked out through them, and to my over-active mind it felt malevolent. I pushed on the door; it creaked.

  “It’s me,” I called out, though I was sure the alben already knew. An ælven would have managed to open the door without making noise.

  “Listen to me, please.”

  No answer. I drew a deep breath, feeling a lot less sure of myself than when I discussed this plan with Caeran a few minutes earlier. He put a hand on my shoulder from behind; he knew, of course, exactly what I was feeling. I hadn’t bothered to try to shield my thoughts. It hardly mattered now.

  “I’m coming in. I just want to talk to you.”

  The door groaned as I opened it enough to go in. The floor was uneven and I dreaded putting my foot through it. I moved with tiny steps, edging past the door and leaving it open behind me. The starlight from outside was bright compared with the interior of the mill. I could see slivers of gray where the boards of the walls had gapped apart, but there wasn’t enough light for me to see Madóran or the alben.

  “Madóran?”

  “He cannot answer you.”

  I turned toward the voice, frowning. The alben wasn’t close by, which was a relief. If he wanted to attack me, he’d have to get closer.

  “Is he alive?” I asked.

  “What does it matter to you?”

  The sneer in his voice made me angry. I kept straining to see, to hear any movement. I hated this blindness.

  Len.

  Caeran’s touch brought me vision; he was looking through a gap in the wall behind me. Everything in the mill was shades of gray, but I saw clearly. The alben was backed against a large, boxy structure, holding Madóran before him like a shield. Starlight glinted off the knife he held at
Madóran’s throat.

  = 17 =

  My anger flared. “It matters to you,” I said. “If he’s dead, there’s no hope. You know that.”

  The alben didn’t answer, just frowned back at me. Caeran’s attention focused on Madóran and I stared at him, hoping to see him breathe.

  “I came to tell you why you have to wait ten years,” I said. “Madóran didn’t say because he was protecting me, but you need to know. You need both of us, or there won’t be a cure.”

  The alben gave a bark of scornful laughter. “If a cure was possible, he would have found it.”

  “He doesn’t have access to our scientific technology. I will, but I’ve got to go through medical school first. Then I’ll get into a research lab. Madóran has agreed to work with me. If human science can offer a cure, we’ll find it.”

  The alben’s eyes narrowed. Good, he was thinking.

  “Let him go.”

  I took a step toward them. The alben tightened his grip, pressing the blade against Madóran’s throat. I froze.

  “What could I do to you?” I said. “Nothing. You’re stronger, faster. I’m no threat. Let him go, and you can leave. Leave the country like he said. Come back in ten years.”

  “A pretty fantasy.”

  I shook my head. “Truth. You know Madóran wouldn’t lie to you.”

  For a moment a look of anguished hunger crossed his face, then the frown returned. “Those others will never let me pass.”

  “Yes they will.” I raised my voice. “Right, Bironan? If he lets Madóran go, he can leave?”

  “Yes,” came the grudging reply from outside.

  “See? So let him go. We’re your best chance. You’d like to be normal again, right?”

  I’d said too much. He scowled and started to drag Madóran backward. That didn’t look good.

  I followed them to the south end of the building, past what was left of the machinery. Seeing through Caeran’s eyes, I watched myself walk away; disorienting, but I could cope. Sort of like fun house mirrors.

  The alben stopped near the back wall. Behind him, light came through a large gap in the boards.

  “Let him go. You won’t get far if you run, you know that.”