Carved

by Miki

  Spar laughs. "We are going to the lunchroom for breakfast. That’s where almost everyone eats unless we have fancy visitors—like you,” he adds with a grin. “Or the King orders a party."

  Even though I've been to the lunchroom before, I've never stopped to appreciate it. Walking in, the entrance is like the portico of a large castle. Each end of the entrance can be sealed by heavy black stone doors which are almost two feet thick. At the end of the doorway, the kitchen has four buffet serving lines to the left. To the right is the seating area. This is a massive room, as large as an entire football field. This room is capable of holding all the Ceorfan in Navan with room left over. Throughout, massive pillars hold the roof in place. Each pillar is lit with four large blueish lights shining upwards, providing a very nice sun-colored reflection throughout the room. The same light fixtures shine a much smaller yellow light downward, which makes the floor seem as if it is a big glowing gold bar. Row upon row of tables form diamond, rectangle, square and even circle patterns all over. It is obviously set-up for having multiple different meetings or groups simultaneously. The benches are huge. The outside seats of one of the circles is roughly half the size of a basketball court. There are three more sets of benches, completing the circle bench area. The seats and table edges are worn from use. Some areas, near the buffet lines, might be new. These must be some of the areas Dana is helping restore.

  Around the complex are several small kitchens which provide a limited menu selection. They’re all in use, with many gargoyles queuing near each of them. Wear patterns in the floor hint of many centuries of use. There are more areas that appear to have been repaired.

  Spar and I head for the second buffet line. The sign above it reads –

  Elk steaks

  Eggs, your choice

  Grilled Potatoes

  Warm Bread and Prickly Pear Jelly

  Your choice of beverage: Coffee, Tea, Almond milk

  Cactus Juice or Cranberry Juice.

  My breakfast looks delicious. I have the biggest elk steak I’ve ever seen, and two scrambled eggs. My grilled potatoes consist of thinly sliced potatoes with the skin on, onion slices, and jalapeno pepper slices. The bread is a small loaf, still warm from the oven. The whole breakfast is a chorus of scents, reminding me of my childhood. I laugh as I look at Spar's tray. He has three steaks like mine. He must have a dozen eggs and a pile of potatoes, which are struggling to stay on his plate.

  The lunchroom, while not full, is packed. My brothers are sitting on the inside of one of the larger circles with two female gargoyles who I haven't met. Spar and I slide into a rock bench beside the boys. The bench is silky smooth, probably because of each tush that has polished it over the centuries.

  Breakfast is amazing. The elk is cooked to perfection. It’s fork-tender and has a smoky flavor of mesquite from the large square grills between buffet lines one and two and between lines three and four. I wonder where the smoke goes. The room smells of mesquite smoke, but not so imposing that it would bother even a sensitive nose. The grilled potatoes are seasoned with a larger salt crystal than I’m used to seeing at home. It also had several other fresh herbs that I can’t identify.

  The room is alive with energy. A buzz is riding the deep tones of the conversations. It’s strangely electric. People are pulled from all parts of Navan to this breakfast. Expectations run high. "For what?" I mumble.

  Spar, looking at me, "What was that, honey?"

  "Oh, nothing."

  Fin walks toward me. I see him coming from more than ten yards away. Oddly, the closer he gets, the more the room buzzes. "Good morning, all. I trust you rested well."

  Murmurs of assent and positiveness about their rest are reflected to Fin. I ask Fin to join us and he does, sliding onto the rounded bench beside me.

  I hear the room quiet, as Fin leans toward me. "Edling, after breakfast, will you please meet privately with me in my parlor?"

  "Yes, Fin." Since he said, "privately," I know better than to ask any questions.

  The small talk continues. Jared and Dana each provide me an update on their activities.

  Jared has been helping the Ceorfan with something to do with the energy source of Navan. He is working on improving the network as well. Though, according to him, the Ceorfan are teaching him more than he’s teaching them. He has also helped develop a plan to better utilize the vegetable fields, to use less water for irrigation but increase the yield. He says this one was easy, because he’d written a plan in college for his Environmental Protection Strategies course. Apparently it was almost a perfect fit for the needs here in Navan.

  Dana is helping the Ceorfan shape the stone into useful objects without damaging the natural features. He’s also helping them repair the common areas, which were damaged from centuries of use. Evidently, many chambers have weak ceilings or backs as they call them. Dana is demonstrating how to strengthen them, to make them safer. I have no doubt he’ll teach them how to make them more beautiful at the same time. Dana has also taken on the task of reworking the gray water distribution. He’s designing a new filter system so that the gray water can be used in the new irrigation plan that Jared is working on.

  The boys are fine. They love being busy, helping people. They tell me the Ceorfan are unbelievably gracious. I see Kino and Amber and wave hello at both. Amber waves back, enthusiastically, adding a kiss, blown to both boys. Kino adds a regal tilt of his head.

  As the small talk at our table dies away, Spar excuses himself to go to the training field. "Wait, how did you eat all of that?"

  He smiles at me. It’s still striking. I kiss him, to a chorus of teasing, before he leaves.

  We all have much to do so. The boys scoop up the last bites of their food. I was done three-fourths of an elk steak ago. Since the boys and I are working on different projects in different areas of Navan, with different people, we make our plans to meet for dinner. Then they head off to their task with the female gargoyles close on their heels. I leave with Fin.

  I was expecting the King’s parlor to be larger than it is. It, like the many other rooms, is brightly lit by wall sconces. A large, finely crafted, rectangular marble table dominates the room. This table has detailed etchings of all types in it. The gargoyles etched don’t seem to match any who I have seen in Navan. There are seats for maybe 14. Fin and I sit near one end, facing each other. I’m not sure why he sat across from me – maybe to put the separation of the table between us, maybe not. Though he is exploring my eyes intently. His scrutinization almost hurts. What is he searching for?

  “Edling, the trip to Scotland has been moved up. We cannot wait. Baratium is murdering thousands. We surmise he will soon reveal the secrets of the Ceorfan.”

  Fin lets the words hang in the air, still searching my eyes. No, not my eyes. Past my eyes.

  “The Ceorfan remain secret. Because of our differences, humans despise us. To integrate with others in the Earth, a change must take place in the opinions of men. TASS knows, but they want to keep our secret as much as we do. If the Ceorfan were no longer secret, the group believes their hold on power would evaporate. This makes us safe from them—for now.

  "We will travel to Scotland before the end of the week, Edling. The High Guild, with your lead, will create the plan to destroy Baratium and the Crafted, once and for all time.

  “TASS delivers influence on the powerful in the human world. If they don’t want an individual in power, nothing will ever put that person in power. They do this for greed and control. The best interests of the global population count for very little. I must warn you, they can be very clever. They calculate every decision based on what advantage they believe will further their cause. Which they say is, ‘To save succeeding generations from the scourge of war and to provide a vehicle for economic stability which shall be used to promote social progress and better standards of living and freedom.’ However, I have watched them for hundreds of years. When the needs of individual members are pitted against the needs of the people, writ
large, the needs of TASS inevitably win out. I do not want you to be fooled, so I am warning you. Some decisions seem correct, until you factor in what may happen to the greater population of the world, not just those involved."

  "I understand, Fin. You’ve given me a great deal of information. I’ve need of a great deal more. I have a list of things I need to accomplish as soon as we finish, including checking on Mica. Before I leave, I do have some questions for you, if you don't mind?"

  "Of course, Edling. We try not to keep secrets between the Ceorfan. I’ll do my best to answer anything you need to know. What is it?"

  "Last night, Jericho cut my hand, so I would bleed directly into Mica. I’d like to know why that made him better. It rapidly healed him. Does human blood do that for Ceorfan? Then I saw a light connecting us together through my blood. Can you tell me about that?"

  "These are two of the most difficult to answer and most important questions, Edling. The answer to them both hangs directly on your ancestry. I know your ancestry because your lineage comes directly from the Dragon Rulers of the Ceorfan."

  "What, I think, have I started?” Is this why Fin was searching through me so resolutely earlier?

  Fin has to see my look of astonishment. "What you need to know is probably better told you by Jericho. I will send him a message. I am sure he will be here with all due haste. I will tell you as much as I can while we wait for him."

  Little clicks echo in the otherwise quiet room as Fin composes the message on his tablet. As he writes, I observe the floor for the first time. It’s black marble. My eyes seem to focus intently on the black.

  I try to focus back on Fin when he continues, with understanding pouring from his eyes, "Our precious dragons were healers. We judge that when your spirit detached from your body and your soul was dream walking, your dragon blood began transforming you, conveying your true nature to the forefront. It is possible that being with us in Navan is compelling your dragon core to develop faster than it otherwise would. Add in that you were shot by Drinker. Since then, your dragon-self—or that part of you—has forced its way to the surface, to keep your brothers, as well as others, safe. For years, we have watched as you have put yourself at risk to protect others. You have that protective attribute, intrinsic in your soul.”

  The blackness, once confined to the now impossibly black floor, has begun to creep up the walls. The details, once so vivid, have blended to form still-recognizable shapes, shapes with little detail remaining.

  Fin, with a resolute voice, continues, “Edling, dragon blood heals the most grievous wounds. It can alter body parts which do not conform to the body's needs. We, the Ceorfan, have been waiting and watching for generations to see a Dragon Queen rise."

  The room is drawing in on itself. The walls, once so brightly lit, seem to have a foggy darkness creeping in toward each sconce. The blackness, once encasing only the floor, now looks like a void trying to drag us down, taking my every anxiety and exposing them to every fear that drives them.

  This is overwhelming. I’m stunned. Even though on some level I knew this already. Why have I inexplicably ignored it?

  "I think I need a minute to process this, Fin. What do you have to drink in here?"

  "Here, Edling." He pours me a glass of a spiced wine I hardly taste as I chug the whole glass. He pours me another. I take a drink, stopping there.

  "I’m sure you are telling me the truth, Fin. I’m just not sure what it means to me. What do I do with it?"

  On cue, Jericho enters the parlor. Without fanfare, he states, "It means you are the Dragon Queen of the Ceorfan, Kendra Macbard, and we have great need of you. Your purpose is to unite the Ceorfan with the world of men, so we can share the Earth the way we were meant to, without fear. The Ceorfan are driven—to protect. Protect gargoyles, men, animals all equally, without prejudice. The gargoyles need you to give that back to them."

  I sit back in my chair. The room completely overtakes me. The void where I was teetering a few moments earlier is enveloping me as I fall into its well. Stunned, my hands cover my face to hide the void. I ask – no, state, “I’m just a park ranger. How? How can I ever be a queen? What do I do? Queen, seriously?”

  Each statement, each question is less clear than the last. My last words are a mere whisper. “Never mind.”

  I feel myself floating up from my chair. Without saying anything else, or looking at either Jericho or Fin, I tread to my chambers. I have no idea how I found them, but I’m glad I did.

  Breathe. Focus on a single point on the wall in front of me. After what seems like only a few minutes, I look away from the spot and to my clock. Thirty minutes have passed.

  I shake myself to awareness and grab my tablet.

  "Hey there, Chris. This is Kendra. How’s it going?"

  "Hey back, lady. It’s fine here. All quiet on the Southern front." She chuckles. "The question is, how’re you?"

  "That’s why I called. So I could let you know. I’m healing, but the doctors say it'll be a few weeks before I can come back to work. They’re worried I might rip stuff open.” All true, not a lie. “How’s everybody there?” In other words, is that POS John still there? “I’m going to call Murphy and check on him next," also code for, if that bastard hurt the Capitan or anyone else, he will pay even more painfully than he already will!

  "I think Murphy’s still at work. You should try his desk phone first. We’re a little shorthanded with you and Mica out, so he’s working late."

  "I’m guessing no one will get vacation until we’re back. Sorry about that. Apologize to the others for me, if they were wanting to take one."

  "Nope, no vacations for anyone right now. No one’s even tried to take a day off since you were shot. And don't you dare go apologizin’. We know the score. Just you get better. We’ll all be just fine. You heal up and come back well."

  "Okay, I will. Thanks, Chris. I’ll call you soon with another update."

  "You do that. Goodnight, sweetheart. Goodbye."

  Telling her goodbye, I call my boss next. We have basically the same conversation, only he thanks me for saving him. Apparently he watched the camera footage. He only had seven stitches in the back of his head and is doing just fine. After we say our goodbyes, I begin reading the Ceorfan history.

  I’ve been reading for hours. Well, reading and thinking. I like who I am, dragon blood and all. I’m making decisions, big decisions. Decisions which will change my life, the boy’s lives—hell, the Ceorfan's lives. What was it that Jericho had said? His decree? Oh yes, he said: “Your purpose is to unite the Ceorfan with the world of men so that we can share the Earth the way we were meant to, without fear.” Let’s add a giant echo onto that statement! What the hell else?

  I’m pretty good at calming myself down, most of the time. It needs to be instinctual in any life and death situation. Oddly enough, I’ve met my quota in the last several days.

  While this is way out of my league, I’ve never been one to run away from doing the hard job. Deep down, I already know what I need to do. My fear is, I don’t know ‘how’ to do what’s needed. Before I do anything else, I need to talk with Jared and Dana. They’re both good at helping me look at situations differently. They both come at them from directions I may not have considered. I also know I need to speak with Fin some more.

  “I’m hungry,” I say to myself, a bit more relaxed. Standing lazily, I think I’ll go to the lunchroom then I see if I can find Fin or the boys.

  Shit, shit, shit! Can you believe that? I jump up and put my tablet in a side pocket of my cargo pants. I forgot to check on Mica. I'm worthless as a partner.

  I hurry out my door and turn right. Heading down the hallway I’m absorbed in focusing on my steps and with my thoughts, running through seeing Mica again. “Hey partner, I know you took a bullet for me—thanks for that. I’ve just been too busy to come see you!” Yeah, that’s wha…

  Thump! I run right into a hardened wall of man—monster—gargoyle. Mica wraps his huge hands around
my waist, lifts me effortlessly, and sits me on a stone quarter-wall that makes up one side of the hallway leading to my secluded room. He gazes into my eyes, waiting to see how I’m going to react.

  Spilling from me is a risky mix of, ‘thank God you’re okay’, to ‘holy hell, I want you, now!’ I want him to kiss me. Almost as if granting my wish, he kisses me – slowly, softly at first.

  I kiss him back and yank him to me. I feel his heart, that I helped heal, pounding hard in his chest as he wraps his massive arms around me. I like the feel of his monster-ness holding me against him. He crushes his lips to mine in a hard kiss. My body reacts, preparing for him. He forces his tongue into my mouth. I respond in kind. Need shoots to my core and I moan into his mouth. Wow, this guy can kiss!

  He moves back a little and smiles at me. He’s magnificent. His need is showing despite the thick jeans he is wearing.

  "Now that’s how to say hello to a fellow,” he states proudly.

  My brain is mush.

  He pauses and just looks at me and waits.

  My brain’s still mush!

  Before the silence gets awkward, he breaks it, “I want to tell you ‘thank you’ for saving my life, princess.”

  Before I say something stupid like, ‘I carried a watermelon,’ I take a deep breath and try to calm my racing heart. "I think the saving was mutual. I saw John, and he was pointing the gun straight at me. I was his target. You took the bullet for me.”

  “Princess, I’ll take whatever I need to for you! Are you hungry? Let’s go to the lunchroom to get something.”

  So, my life is spinning out of control again. Am I collecting men? I must tell Spar I kissed Mica. No way am I going to lie to him. Damn! I’m an idiot. I fear what Spar is going to think. “Yes, let's go see if they have pizza. You look fine now—is that true?" I ask him, doing my best to focus on his face and not up and down his body.