by Jess C Scott
Nin nodded. The disparity between the rich and the poor wasn’t as great in the Elven world as it was with humans, but he knew the privileges of nobility—he’d walked away from it all, not so long ago. Quality of life shouldn’t be structured around social class and status.
He made his way to one of the pews, and stretched his arms out behind him. “Do you meet the buyers…here?”
Anya shook her head. “We thought we could stash some of our treasures here. Temporarily.”
“It’s quite bold of you, to steal things in broad daylight,” Nin remarked, stalling for time.
Anya tried to hide a smirk. “The museum is closed on Mondays.” She rubbed her eyes—there were faint dark rings under them.
Nin was absolutely convinced that Anya and Leticia weren’t amateurs. He was considering enlisting their help. He needed to get his hands on an artifact himself, one that might hold the key to explaining what the letter ‘i’ was all about, the letter on the piece of paper he had neatly tucked away.
But could the girls be trusted?
“Penny for your thoughts?” Anya asked him, as if reading his mind.
Nin tilted his chin up slightly, as he pointed to the bag in Leticia’s hand. “What’s in there?”
Anya gave a twisted smirk. It was something Leticia had bought online from one of their counterculture friends.
“It’s a secret toolbox.” She felt like she could trust Nin—it was hard keeping her real life a secret from everyone she knew. Maybe he was into the whole counterculture scene too. Might he be something of a kindred spirit, that way? “It’s made of some hi-tech TN.09 thing…whatever you put in a secret compartment zipped at the side, is literally invisible. You could pass this through security baggage scanners, and whatever you hide in it wouldn’t show up on the screen.”
Nin nodded, seemingly impressed. TN.09 was the short form for Titanium-nano—it was the code a group of cyberpunk elves used to refer to their ongoing experimentations with a new form of nanotechnology. It was more sophisticated and less environmentally damaging than what humans had been working on all along.
“Fascinating,” Nin said, with a convincing smile. “I know some of the people who…made that.” He stopped himself, before saying anymore.
Anya and Leticia gasped. “Really? Does that mean people can be invisible too?”
Nin thought about it. “I don’t know.” He knew the substance was safe to touch, and wasn’t lethal if injected directly into an elf’s bloodstream. But he wasn’t sure about humans. He presumed it could be worse, since humans were generally weaker-bodied.
“Is it cancerous?” Anya had lots of unanswered questions about TN.09.
“Even the sun is cancerous.” Nin hoped they wouldn’t be put off by his sense of humor. “So,” he tried again, determined to have a look at the bag’s contents. “Tell me what’s inside.”
Tension hung in the air. Leticia looked toward Anya. She acquiesced, once Anya gave a slight shrug (which could have meant anything).
“It’s called the ‘King John’ cup,” Leticia said with pride, bringing out a richly enameled golden cup. A ray of sunlight streamed in through one of the stained glass panels, right onto the goblet. “Fashioned in 1340—that’s what the guide said at the museum last week.”
No it’s not, Nin thought. If it was the goblet that he thought it was, it belonged to an Elven family that had been trying to locate its whereabouts for years.
Nin went forward, drawn by the artifact, to take a better look. Leticia even let him hold it.
“Very, very nice,” he uttered, while checking out the design. In each of the five fields of enamel was a man and a woman, one over the other. Some were picking flowers, others were dressed as hunters, carrying a bow and arrow.
Nin peered into the goblet—there was a female falconer at the bottom of the cup. It was to be revealed with the last draught. Elven artisans always took great care and delight to include divine details, which their human counterparts often overlooked.
“Who’s your buyer for this one?” Nin would make the purchase himself, if he could persuade the girls with a higher bid than what they had been offered.
But Anya shook her head. “This isn’t for sale. We wanted this one because it looked so pretty. We were both dreaming of it last night.”
Nin was pleased at their exquisite taste. He decided to try his hand at negotiating—he wanted to walk away with the goblet. After all, the girls were in the business of returning artifacts “to their rightful owners (their own words).”
“May I have this?” he began. “I could give you something in exchange. Something high quality, also.” He could easily get an Elven item—a royal circlet, another goblet, an accessory—which he was sure would fit Anya and Leticia’s idea of good taste.
The two girls looked at him like he was out of his mind.
“Who are you, anyway?” Anya was back on the defensive.
“I’m a college art student.” Nin certainly looked, or dressed the part. “I know someone who would really want this.”
Anya put a hand up in the air. “Finders, keepers.”
Nin’s mind raced to come up with something plausible. “A friend of mine is producing an independent film. A rendition of King Arthur. This would be the perfect plot! I mean”—he corrected himself—“prop.”
The girls’ frowns let Nin know that his efforts weren’t going successfully. He couldn’t afford to get the girls angry. They were the perfect individuals he needed to help him execute his break-in plan. But neither could he afford to reveal his true identity, too soon.
He tried another tactic. He made a call, using a tiny earpiece that was attached to his N-Gage device.
“Tavia, I need your dream catcher…yes, I’m all right…no, I’m not alone…I’ll explain later…okay, I’ll see you.”
Nin looked smug, as he beamed back at Anya and Leticia. “Let’s see if we can reach a mutual agreement.”
“Who’s Tavia?” Leticia asked. Her hands had folded across her chest again.
“My girlfriend.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. Nin did that whenever he wasn’t comfortable. Lie after lie was coming out of Nin’s mouth. The more he lied, the more he’d have to remember.
Not the best way to start off a possible alliance—Nin was fully aware of that.
Chapter 2:
Nin checked the incoming text message on his silver wrist gadget:
Outside, train tracks.
“Tavia…” Nin muttered absent-mindedly, before getting to his feet. “Let’s go outside,” he announced to Anya and Leticia, in a louder voice.
“Where, exactly?” Anya demanded, her impulsive, self-defensive side kicking into gear again.
“Just behind,” Nin replied nonchalantly. “The dream catcher looks better in the sun.”
That wasn’t an untruth, but Nin deduced that Tavia felt better in wide open spaces. It reminded her of home—other places she wasn’t familiar with sometimes led to an unreasoned bout of claustrophobia.
He’d continue his social experiment, bring Tavia and Dresan into the picture, and see how all of them got along together. Elves had been told for centuries that “humans were bad” and “humans were evil”—Nin was tired of dogma and doctrines. Then again, if humans weren’t dangerous, his Elven trio wouldn’t need to spend a quarter of their time regularly “maintaining” and debugging hidden cameras and mobile mini-sentinels around the vicinity. They were quick with the task, however—their N-Gage devices alerted them whenever any new cameras were set up.
Anya, Leticia, and Nin made their way out of the stone church, an almost-forgotten relic which was surrounded by dry, sandy ground, buried in waste land. Some trees at the back led to a route which eventually connected to one of the inner city parks in Zouk.
Nin looked up to the blue sky above when he stepped out, enjoying the sunshine on his fair face. Anya saw there was a remarkable grace in his movements, though he didn’t seem to be aware or con
scious of it. It was evident even in the smallest of gestures, such as when he placed a hand into his pocket.
“So, any plans for later in the day?” Nin asked the girls. His tone belied his enjoyment with subtly manipulating situations to his advantage. If the girls really proved to be too much trouble, he knew he could just knock them unconscious with his concealed plasma pistol, and take the golden cup. It belonged to the elves, after all.
“Not really.” Anya didn’t want to divulge any more information unnecessarily, until she was more certain of Nin. “You?”
“I like it out here,” Nin said, observing the uninhabited surroundings. “The trees here are still real.”
“We did oppose ‘Project Enviro’,” Leticia quipped sarcastically, drawing quotation marks in the air, “by voting online.”
“The votes were probably rigged.” Nin spoke the exact words that formed in Anya’s mind, before she had a chance to vocalize them. “Fancy name for a project lacking in substance. Trees are holograms in the heart of the city now—Zouk lives and breathes a world of make-belief.”
Nin stopped in his tracks when he saw a couple of motorcycles parked (haphazardly—one looked almost ready to keel over) to the side. The bikes needed a good clean and polish.
“That would be ours,” Anya informed Nin.
“Cool. I ride one too.”
Nin immediately regretted what he had just told them. He knew how to ride a motorcycle, though he didn’t exactly own one.
Anya’s next question confirmed his sentiment. “Where’s your bike?”
Nin casually waved a hand to the left, towards a slight curve of a road which was half-blocked by a clump of trees. “Somewhere over there.”
The girls seemed to buy it. Or maybe they were quiet because of the two figures that greeted them at the unused, rusty train tracks behind the church.
“Tavia!” Nin went up to a slender, sassy female who had curves in all the right places. He planted a kiss on the side of her check. She patted the back of his shoulder twice, in response. Ink markings on a section of her inner wrist showed—a tattoo design of some sort.
“Are they models?” Leticia whispered to Anya, enviously eyeballing Tavia, who sported a chic crop which featured various shades of blue.
“You’d need money or connections, to get away with that,” Anya whispered back to Leticia, referring to Tavia’s sense of style. If Tavia was like Anya and Leticia (of “the common people” variety), she could be prosecuted for being too trendy. Zouk City considered it a violation of the commoners’ code of uniform conformity.
“Why haven’t we seen them before?” Anya whispered back. Nin and his friends looked like interesting personalities. Had they been living under a rock all this while? What were they doing, out here in the outback of a derelict building?
Tavia had a darker-skinned companion, who introduced himself as “Dresan” followed by a “pleased to meet you,” after Anya and Leticia said hello. Leticia wondered if he was some kind of bodyguard, judging from his strong, silent stance. Dresan quickly brought some strands of his long hair forward, to cover the sides of his head and face, when Leticia seemed to be spending a second too long staring at one of his ears.
“I brought the dream catcher.” Tavia’s tone said what she didn’t: that she wanted Nin to explain what this was really all about. It wasn’t often that he requested them to do things—or bring forth cherished items—without telling them why first.
She handed it to Nin. The dream catcher was a stunningly intricate glass ornament, embellished with silver and little gemstones.
“A sophisticated piece of artwork, featuring symbolic geometry,” Nin described with panache, to Anya and Leticia. “The centerpiece represents an imago mundi…uh”—he fumbled for a moment, for words Anya and Leticia would understand—“a systematic creation, in the form of the four elements, the life cycle of the moon, and the signs of the Zodiac.”
He looked at Anya for a moment, tilting his head to one side slightly. He liked playing games, and playful mind games were no exception. “You’re an Aries, aren’t you?”
She was about to cross her arms, but attempted to look unfazed, despite his accuracy. “How did you know?”
“I can always tell…” Nin conveniently didn’t mention the help he got from his N-Gage. He’d keep up the image of being a séance. “Do you believe in astrology?”
Leticia did. She turned her face towards Anya, lips curving up in a thin smile.
“Are you a Libra?” Leticia asked Nin, wanting to see if she had gotten better at guessing people’s sun signs.
His smile matched Leticia’s. “Very good.”
“A Libra is about charm, beauty, and social graces,” Leticia whispered into Anya’s ear. “99% of it is true, I told you so!”
“Gimme the crash course later,” Anya whispered back. The glint and glimmer of the dream catcher had caught her attention.
Upon closer inspection, what Nin said did seem to make sense. The circle right in the center was divided into twelve—one for each sign of the zodiac. Four spheres surrounded the circle—a full moon, lunar eclipse, and two crescents facing opposite directions.
“Wow.” Anya was clearly mesmerized. So was Leticia, who gazed at the dream catcher in silent awe. Of the valuable artifacts they’d raided so far, few seemed to be as enchanting as the ornament Nin held gently in the palms of his hands.
“Would you accept this…” Nin offered, exuding with natural confidence, “in exchange for, King John’s cup?”
Tavia positively glowered at Nin. “Do you know how many hours that took to make, by hand?” she blurted out. She wanted to know why one of her favorite items was being used as barter. While she hadn’t made it herself, she knew the amount of work and careful attention that went into its construction. Her expression changed once Leticia produced the golden goblet from the bag she was carrying.
“Elena—” Dresan uttered, his green eyes wide open, before cutting himself short.
“The film producer?” Leticia thought “Elena” was somehow related to King Arthur.
Dresan nodded, when he saw Nin do so. Nin knew Dresan and Tavia would understand, especially since they enjoyed keeping their Elven identity hidden.
Anya, however, seemed to have a change of heart. “You’re comparing glass and gold—apples with oranges.” Economics was one of her favorite subjects at school, after all. “This is pretty, but what we have is more…valuable.”
“Not all that glitters is gold,” Nin replied without missing a beat, sure of his own self.
Neither was going to back down.
Tavia shifted on her feet, before moving into the shade that some trees provided, to the side of the train tracks. Her body language didn’t reflect amiability. She wanted to know who Anya and Leticia were—and if they knew, in turn, that they were dealing with elves. She looked up to Nin, but would stand her ground if she felt like it. But anyone who messed with Nin—or Dresan—would have to deal with Tavia too.
“Let’s go, Leticia,” Anya began. “We can get a better deal elsewhere.” The two girls turned to leave, with Leticia walking in front, clutching the vinyl bag to her chest. They had more than enough to handle on a daily basis—covering their tracks, making sure they blended in with the rest of society, in plain sight—no need for more trouble with a bunch of random strangers.
Luckily for Nin, challenges were something he thrived on. He wasn’t about to just let the two girls walk off, after all his hard work at making their acquaintance. He swiftly went forward and swiped at Anya’s wrist from the back. He didn’t know how much she valued her bracelet, but it was one more trick he had up his sleeve. Besides, it allowed him to flaunt some of his skills as a snatch thief.
Anya turned around. Nin held up her elegant charm bracelet, which had little star, heart, and key charms.
Despite the room for improvement—a true expert of a thief would be able to pickpocket, without the victim noticing a thing—Nin’s plan worked. Anya l
ooked livid, then bit on her lower lip.
“Give it back,” Anya said, in a way that was more of an imploration than a command.
Nin simply waved it in the air, tauntingly, then tossed it over to Dresan, who caught the pendant with one swipe.
“Sentinels!” Leticia suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs.
Nin, Tavia, and Dresan spun around to where Leticia was pointing. They whipped out small pistols which were hidden in one of their boots—the design embellished onto Tavia’s gun matched up perfectly with the ink marks on her hand. Anya seized the moment to snatch at the piece of cord that was hanging around Nin’s neck.
“I thought you said you weren’t armed…” Anya said mockingly to Nin, who had quietly slipped the gun away, after realizing there were no sentinel guards.
“I had no need to be,” Nin answered curtly, burning with embarrassment that the elves had just been duped. That wouldn’t bode well with his elders, who ceaselessly maintained that elves were “wiser and better” than the average human.
“Nice work, Lei,” Anya said to Leticia, her partner in crime. Anya dangled the piece of cord a few inches in front of her. “Look what we have here…”
Nin raised a hand to his collarbone, then looked up at Anya in disbelief. He had only just realized he was missing his neckband.
“That’s…” he started, with a hesitancy in his tone, like he was just about to say where he got his pendant from, but had second thoughts. “One of a kind.”
Tavia couldn’t help but give a slight snigger, now that Nin was in the very same spot that he had put her just moments ago.
The small pendant in Anya’s hand looked like a miniature version of the diamond orb she had in her possession. Nin’s pendant, however, had a touch of mystique and refinement that the orb lacked. When Anya gave the pendant a little shake, the pieces inside swirled too, giving the whole pendant an icy shimmer that glinted in the midday sun.