by J. B. Garner
The crazy thing about it was that I found myself enjoying it. At first, I was only going to do the basics. You know, a thorough brushing, a bit of styling, enough to show a veneer of pride in what had been an obstinate wall in my life. As I worked, though, dimly-remembered images of intricate braids, golden rings, and bejeweled strands broke through to the surface.
They weren’t of things I had done or even seen, my first memories were of the smell of sweet hay in the makeshift bed the carnies made for me, but there were memories in the back of my mind all the same. It was like my knowledge of the runes and Truespeech, things that simply seemed to be there without origin, ingrained at the basest levels of my mind. Those memories of grand, beautiful beards moved from the dim recesses into the front of my brain, mixing with my iron-clad work ethic to form the notion that I shouldn’t do things in half-measures.
Before I fully comprehended what I was doing, my stubby fingers were working with unusual grace, twining complex braids throughout my beard as I sung a barely-remembered song under my breath. It wasn’t Truespeech and it wasn’t English; it was the language of the runes. Was it some secret tongue of the Dwarves? I didn’t know and I didn’t care at that moment, as the words soothed my anxiety even as the careful work on my beard, my mustache, my hair began to bring an unexpected smile to my lips.
It was a simple tune, one sung by the young to pass the time, telling of the pleasures of hearth and home, of sweet biscuits and the rhythm of hammers. For a few fleeting moments, I felt strangely whole, an empty space I hadn’t even been aware of filled in. While I didn’t have the clasps, pins, and gems that my memories asked for, I made due with the hairbands, bobby pins, and barrettes that were in the suite’s bathroom.
Maybe I shouldn’t have been so down on the fiery red curls on my face. In fact, maybe they were something to cherish.
The series of heavy thuds on the suite door threatened to take me out of my high spirits so I patently ignored it. Not content with my ignorance, the source of the knocking turned his efforts to the door proper. I couldn’t ignore the soft beep of the door unlocking but I could be annoyed by the intrusion. As the door swung open, I growled, hopped off the stool, and stomped into the main room of the suite.
Blythe was standing just inside the door, his rotund body stuffed into a business suit. Grudgingly, I had to give him credit for two things. First, he showed excellent taste in tailors, because that tailor had managed to make that suit fit as good as humanly possible on him. Second, while it might have been considered rude to enter the suite at all, Blythe was turned away from the bathroom and the bed area, staring politely at the door instead.
I was still pissed off all the same. “What do you think you’re doing, barging into a lady’s room unannounced?!”
Blythe, still showing the utmost discretion, stayed facing away and cleared his throat. “My apologies, ma’am, but when you didn’t come at my knock, I had to ensure that nothing untoward had happened to you.” His accent was thick and I only then realized that we’d been talking in Truespeech. Maybe because he wasn’t a Figment he sounded funny? “Master Sinclair considers your safety while you’re staying here most crucial.”
I had no idea if that was the whole truth or not. “If you say so.” Picking up my notebook and pen from the desk, I let out a hiss of a sigh. “Well, thank you for being polite at least. It’s safe; you don’t have to keep your nose in the door.”
His head cocked from side to side, cracking his barely-existing neck as he turned around to me. “You’re welcome and thank you.” He cocked an eyebrow at the service cart, especially the note on top of it. “I take it you read the boss … Master Sinclair’s invitation?”
Tucking the notebook under my arm, I nodded up at him. “I sure did.” With my free hand, I made the last adjustment to my braids. “I am all ready to go.”
Blythe looked me up and down and up again as if he had never seen me before. To be fair, he hadn’t ever gotten a clear look at me, what with all the explosion and chasing and chaos. His gaze stopped at my beard and he let out a low whistle.
“What’s that all about then?” I challenged, putting a fist on my hip. I figured it was best that he got all the insults I knew were brewing in that beetle-browed skull out of his system.
Surprise number three from Blythe was the vaguely embarrassed look as his face scrunched up. “I’m sorry; I certainly didn’t mean for that to come out. I, well, you are not exactly what I was expecting for a Dwarf lady.” He let out a cough. “In a positive way, to be completely transparent.”
I blinked slowly and smiled despite myself. “Oh, well, uh, thanks.” I shook my head slightly and forced myself to be serious. “Anyway, you’re supposed to be escorting me to this meeting, right?”
He smoothed back his coal-black hair and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Adjusting the tie comically trying to find purchase in his bullish neck, he opened the door wide. “Right this way.”
The floor was a bit more alive than it was when I had gone to bed. I could hear indistinct and not-so-indistinct voices from behind doors, everyday sounds that would be at home in any normal environment outside of the Truespeech tickling my ears. The occasional person passed us in the hall, an Elf, a couple of Drakes like Sinclair, and a short creature I couldn’t identify with green skin and a vaguely melted look. They all gave Blythe a wide berth (as wide as they could manage with his size) and me gawking stares.
I was glad when we got into the elevator, even if it left me in the sole company of one of my attackers. Better than all that attention, the wrong kind of attention. You know, the ‘you’re a damn freak’ kind of attention, at least that’s how I took it.
As soon as we settled into the elevator, Blythe punched the button for the fifth floor. I tried to get my act together, to get ready for anything. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was going to do but I had enough of an idea and enough confidence in my own wits to feel like I could navigate this whole mess. At least that’s what I was telling myself.
It would have been uncomfortably silent if Blythe hadn’t felt compelled to open his big mouth. “So, I wanted to apologize for the unfortunate troubles that occurred last night.”
I looked up from my thoughts with a frown. “Unfortunate? You destroyed where I work and where I live, not to mention you threatened my life and Aelfread’s.” Maybe I shouldn’t have said what came out next but I did and I’m still proud of it. “Sorry does not cut it; I should take a piece out of your gruesome hide instead.”
Yeah, threats aren’t very diplomatic but he didn’t exactly deserve diplomacy. Plus it wasn’t a threat precisely. To me, it was more of a promise.
A thug like Blythe wouldn’t normally abide that kind of talk from a victim or anyone beneath him. Reputations, fragile ego, or whatever you want to chalk it up to, the point is I knew how this kind of person thought. Imagine my surprise when he didn’t shout back or try to throw me against a wall or whatever form of violence you want to imagine.
“Trust me, ma’am, Master Sinclair will do that for you.” Though he bristled just a bit, he didn’t puff up or meet my gaze.
“Well, I would say that serves you right for what you did.” I was only half-hearted in that. Not that Blythe didn’t deserve some punishment but there was an implied degree there that didn’t sit comfortably on my shoulders.
Blythe let out a gravelly sigh. “It’s a trouble of our occupation.”
I couldn’t think of anything to add to that. I probably should have been happy for the potential ass-chewing that Blythe and his buddy were up for but all it did was make me more nervous. I almost started when the elevator dinged and the doors opened out onto the fifth-floor lobby.
It was just as sumptuous and pristine as it was earlier, enhanced by the soft shafts of daylight piercing through the windows like glowing arrows. Standing in the exact same spot where he had been waiting before was Sinclair. Well, I was pretty sure it was Sinclair.
He was wearing the same suit as earlier and he had
about the same height and build. The thing was that he certainly wasn’t a reptile man. He looked normal, well, human at any rate. The man was completely bald, his scalp smooth and polished, with thick, bushy eyebrows. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions but I couldn’t shake the thought that he looked like an evil corporate overlord straight out of a comic book.
The eyes, though, were the same, cold and supremely focused.
Blythe stepped out and led the way, Sinclair meeting us halfway. When he opened his mouth, I knew for certain that it was the man himself. “Lady Stone, thank you for joining me this afternoon.” His nod to Blythe was curt and commanding while his bow to me had the same flourish and panache as before.
Blythe didn’t say a word as I nodded back to Sinclair. “And thank you for the excellent lodgings.” My hand curled around the notebook at my side. “I take it you wanted to present whatever proposal you needed me for?”
Sinclair nodded as Blythe stepped across the invisible divide to his master’s side. “As direct to business as our local Huntress, I see.” While the illusion was otherwise perfect, the smile that came across his face was strange, plastic, and poorly animated for lack of a better word. “Let us then get to that business.” He turned to open one of the glass double-doors. “If you would – “
I caught everyone’s attention when I cut Sinclair off, putting a hand on my hip. “Oh, yes, straight to business but you are forgetting the first step, Master Sinclair.”
There was the barest hint of annoyance on Sinclair’s face as he glanced back at me. “What is it that we are forgetting, Lady Stone?”
“Well, I need to know that you are staying true to our agreement, that Prince Aelfson has come to no harm in your care.” To cut off any possible objections, I pressed on. “Not that I don’t take you at your word, sir, I simply need to assuage my own worried nerves before I am of any use to you.”
Sinclair tipped his head towards Blythe and the big man walked through the open door. “Ah, an excellent point, Lady Stone, and one I had foreseen. Follow and you will have your assurances.” As if that was the end of the conversation, he stepped through the door.
I didn’t exactly like his tone but I didn’t have much of a choice. Stepping up the pace, I went through as well, only a few steps behind the Drake. It was only a short walk down a glass-paned hallway, each side showing glimpses into other offices where business people were hard at work with surprisingly mundane tasks. Through another set of glass doors, we came out into what I could only describe as the ultimate businessman’s den.
‘Office’ might have been more technically accurate but that didn’t present the right feel. This didn’t feel like a place where someone worked; this felt like a place where someone collected their trophies and basked in their own glory. Unlike the glass walls of the other offices, we had a return to the dark oak of the foyer while the floor was tiled in polished marble. Shelves lined with antiques and artifacts, all neatly arranged with small placards in front of them, filled most of the wall space save for the right wall where a large flat-screen monitor was mounted.
While all the strange knick-knacks fought for my attention, it was the large desk that dominated the center of the room that won that fight. It was an imposing thing, well-made and sturdy enough to withstand a hurricane, made of hardwood and varnished a deep, blood red. The chair sitting behind the desk only served to enhance that dominance. It would be more accurate to call the chair a throne because it was obviously modeled on one taken right out of some medieval castle.
Hell, maybe it was a throne out of some castle.
More importantly was the occupant of one of the two sumptuous leather chairs in front of the desk. Aelfread was there, still dressed in the same white leather as this morning. He was pale and drawn but there was a clean dressing and bandage over his wounded hip. His shoulders slumped and his face downcast, he only looked up at the sound of the door opening.
I couldn’t ignore the thin, coppery chains that bound his wrists and ankles together, like a set of fancy dress manacles out of some odd fetish club downtown.
Mr. Sinclair gestured at the shackled Elf. “I think this is sufficient proof of Aelfson’s well-being. Don’t you agree, Lady Stone?”
Chapter 14
I TRIED NOT to bristle in any obvious way, reminding myself that Aelfie’s state was no different than if the mundane police had him in custody. I had to separate my nascent feelings for the Elf from the need to find out the facts before making a logical decision here.
“Are you all right, Aelfie?” I asked as I walked up to him. He stared into my eyes, a glimmer of, well, something in there but he refused to speak.
Blythe stayed by the door as Sinclair hovered behind me. “He cannot answer you directly or even speak, not without the consent of a Drachenreich official.” I shot a glance up at him but his focus was purely on Aelfread. “It is for his safety and the safety of others, I assure you. This way, he cannot incant a spell of high magic or accidentally incriminate himself with unbidden testimony. Think of it as an enhanced form of the mundane world’s Fifth Amendment.”
I wasn’t sure if I entirely bought that but I didn’t have a basis to argue. “Then give him the consent to answer my question please.” My tone and body language said it all. I wasn’t budging on this one.
Sinclair gave me a curious look. “I suppose that can be allowed.” He turned away, slowly walking around the desk towards the ‘throne’. “Collar, you may answer Lady Stone’s previous question.”
Relief washed over Aelfie’s face for a moment. I can only imagine how little he had been allowed to talk in the past eight hours. “Physically, I am recovering nicely. My jailers have been beneficent in that regard at least.” That relief faded into a frown. “Emotionally, milady, I can report that I have felt much better, that is to be certain, though I am happy to see that you are being well-treated.”
I tried to go with a completely flat poker face but I had to smile a bit at that. I was about to see if I could sneak in another question but Sinclair cut me off. “That is sufficient, collar.” I could feel his eyes on me so I turned my attention back to the Drake. “That should soothe your nerves, I think. Please, Lady Stone, sit and let us discuss both your situation and what we can do for each other.”
I set my chin and nodded. While the chair looked plenty nice, it was also built for normal-sized folks so it was a small production to get myself up into it. After that momentary struggle, I managed to settle down comfortably enough, smoothing out my skirt and setting the notebook in my lap.
“My apologies.” Sinclair sank back into his own massive chair. “Despite all my efforts to properly accommodate you, it appears I have missed a detail or two.”
I blew out a breath, fluttering the few loose hairs of my mustache. “All is forgiven, Master Sinclair.” I flipped through my notebook to a blank page, purposefully taking my time as I paged through all the runes and runewords I had inscribed earlier. “Now please, enlighten me as to my situation.”
Yes, both Aelfread and Sinclair’s eyes widened just a hair at those pages. Sinclair didn’t betray that interest in his carefully modulated voice. “From my discussions with the collar, I have some concept of what you have been educated about despite said education being, well, rushed. What is most important for you to understand at this point is the legal situation you have found yourself tangled in.”
I responded by hovering my pen tip over a blank page, my eyes up and attentive. Aelfread seemed to have settled as comfortably as he could manage, his attention focused almost entirely on me.
“I know you have some concept of the Dual Worlds governance policy we have with the mundane governments. As Prince Aelfson’s crimes fall solely in the realm of the Figment world, they are under the jurisdiction of the North Drachenreich, a term you have doubtlessly heard bandied about already.”
I jotted down the key words and concepts. It might have been a stretch but I decided to take those notes in the rune language. While the
two of them knew about runes and their powers, I was betting that neither of them knew the entirety of the language as I did.
“Let me be diamond clear in defining what that means. What you think of as the United States falls almost entirely under the dominion of the True Dragons of the region.” The very word ‘Dragon’ in Truespeech made my skin tingle and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “There are a few independent pockets, such as King Sylvinson’s Spaces Under The Lakes, but the vast majority is ruled by those Dragons and, by proxy, the advisers and governors they appoint.”
“Which you’re one of, aye?” Sinclair’s confident voice and dominant posturing atop his throne had answered that minutes before but best to make things clear, right?
“Indeed. And lest you not understand, the authority of said Dragons is absolute in their empire.” The Drake’s voice lightened as he steepled his fingers, his elbows resting on the armrests of the throne. “However, we are not some throwback to the Dark Ages of humanity. As the Dragons do not have the interest in adjudicating every petty problem, there is an extensive body of laws and structure established to keep things running smoothly and in concord with the mundane world.
“In many ways, these laws run parallel to the ones you are familiar with, Lady Stone. What Prince Aelfson is accused of is grand magical theft, fraud, and the use of high magic on agents of the Drachenreich.” He pointed a long finger at me. “And sadly, you have become an accessory to several of those crimes, as well as being accused of physical assault upon said agents.”
That got my goat and I about leaped out of the chair. “And how was I to know that, what with your miscreants using their own magic to destroy my home and my work?”
Aelfie’s eyes were telling me to please calm down as Sinclair raised up both hands. “Calm yourself please. Obviously, there are mitigating factors involved in your potential crimes; I completely understand this.” While that did calm me down a bit, I couldn’t help but think that there was going to be a ‘but’ in a second. “But” – and there it was! – “many of those factors depend on your testimony and your actions in the coming days.”