by Jess C Scott
“Is that true?” Anya had heard something about his cold heart.
She listened to the soft sound of Nin’s breathing, aware of how it had a soothing, calming effect on her, somewhat.
“Love is a game to me.” A dark shadow seemed to go across Nin’s fair face.
He’s been bitten before, Anya thought. Or maybe elves are just born wise.
Nin glanced at Anya. She shifted a little in her seat—he was looking at her with an intensity she was not quite used to. “Do you think I’m…heartless?” His voice was barely more than a whisper.
“That would be a shame,” Anya tried to make light of what Nin had said. “Then there’d be nothing for me to steal.” But she noticed Nin didn’t quite react to her attempt at wit and humor, so she said with more sincerity, “No. If you were…heartless…you wouldn’t bother to find this…missing parchment piece. And you’re right about love.” Anya curled her right fist, in a kind of weak air punch, to show her agreement. “Maybe life is just a game too. Or a…popularity contest.”
“I thought she was the one…” Nin went on. He loved how comfortable it was, talking to Anya. “But the closer it got to the date…the more demanding she got. And I realized it was more of a political move on her part. She later accused me of getting cold feet, and being immature.” He paused. Perhaps there was some truth in that, to an extent. “Why shouldn’t we be free to love, or pursue who or what we want in life?”
Anya nodded, even though her head felt a little heavy. “Love is a lie, a fantasy…an illusion people buy to escape a dull life.” She felt relieved to say it, in fact. It came straight from the complex cynicism which resided in her innermost heart.
“True,” Nin said, “but I also think that a shared, real love is the most precious thing.”
“How would you know it’s for real?”
Nin traced a small area of the circular golden rim of the teacup. “When you see the person for what they really are, not what you want to see…when you accept them, flaws and all. When what’s inside matters more than what’s on the outside.”
Anya and Nin leaned back, both gently smiling. They were lulled by the conversation they had just shared, along with the soothing effect of the Coca tea leaves. They seemed to have the same hopes and dreams. They felt a strange kind of kinship, a bond forming—like they had something in common, even though they just didn’t know what to call it, exactly.
Chapter 7:
Anya’s phone beeped—she read the message from Leticia:
Break time. Hey I was just wondering...do elves live forever? Are they immortal?
‘Break time’? Anya wondered. Does she mean ‘break-in’? Anya thought it was strange Leticia had messaged. She usually considered it easier to make a phone call straight away. Then Anya remembered where Leticia was, and felt silly for misconstruing the word. “Break time, as in, rehearsal break,” she reasoned. No wonder Leticia had chosen to text-message instead.
The question stayed on her mind. After a few moments she posed the question to Nin. “Are you immortal?”
“Immortal? No. We die too.”
Nin took a sip of tea, enjoying the taste that lingered. He was sinking into a state of quintessential bliss. Philosophy, good company, and a nice cup of tea made for a combination he derived a great amount of satisfaction from. He usually found himself with his own company, when dealing with the weightier issues of life. His thoughts shifted back to Anya’s question, and the difference of years between their two races. “But elves live much longer than the average human,” he added as an afterthought. “More than a few centuries.”
Tavia interrupted the conversation as she came into the pantry for some water. She filled half a cup with water, downed it in one gulp, then filled the cup again to the brim.
Anya took the opportunity to reply to Leticia:
Asked Nin your question—his reply: more than a few centuries…
“Three cups will send you to the moon,” Tavia was saying to Anya, as she refreshed Anya’s cup of Coca tea.
Tavia would have said more, if her mind wasn’t still buzzing from the various codes and combinations of Gilbreth’s security systems she had been trying to hack. Tavia rubbed her face with her hands, then covered her eyes with her palms for a moment. “Hour and a half more to midnight,” she muttered to Nin, who didn’t need the reminder. He had a good sense of time, even in the absence of his wrist device to refer to.
“Is everything ready?”
“Almost. I was trying to deactivate the vault’s sensor system. No such luck.”
Nin sat up straight. “You tried your best.” Looking to Anya, he added, with a touch of confidence and moral support, “We’ll do our best, later.”
Tavia leaned over, speaking in a low voice to Nin, “Did you show her our…side project?” Anya was already in the elves’ abode. Their marvelous side project was what really connected their underground network.
Nin’s face lit up. “Why didn’t I think of that?” He tapped his foot on the ground, like he was already ready to go.
Tavia gestured with her glass of water, toward the stone dish of Coca leaves. Nin gave a nod, in acknowledgement and agreement. Anya wondered what else the elves could be spending their time on.
“We’ll be back on time,” Nin grinned at Tavia. He was still seated, but it didn’t conceal his love for action and adventure.
Tavia stood, with the cup of water in hand. “Don’t knock yourselves out too soon…” she advised, as she made her way out.
Anya gazed at the black tea leaves, at the bottom of her empty tea cup. Chloe used to tell her tales of ancient China, where people could decipher hidden messages in the way tea leaves settled. Anya doubted she’d be hit with a bolt of enlightenment, in her present situation.
“Anya.” Nin stood close to Anya, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She gazed up at Nin, with an expectant look on her face.
“Would you like to see The Velvet Underground’s best kept secret?”
Anya narrowed her eyes at Nin. “You’re full of surprises.”
“Says who?” Nin turned on his heel, with a slight skip in his step, and started heading for the cavern’s main hall. He added in a playful, lilting tone, “I’ve already told you so much. Maybe too much…”
Nin handed her a slim pair of goggles, with deep pink lenses. “To see better in the dark,” he explained. The elves had good night vision, but the goggles were an extra help. He’d use his own later, when they were at the Gilbreth Institute. His was a little more hi-tech, with more built-in functions such as calculating the coordinates for jumping distances.
He opened yet another door in the wall, and Anya followed him through a dark passageway, lit by his pendant. Anya felt supremely privileged to be allowed access to what must be something rarely shown to humans. She relished the idea that here they were stealing through the night, unseen and unknown to the world above.
Nin held out his hand, to hold Anya’s, to guide her down a couple of steps when they reached the end of the passage. Anya had to admit it was nice when a guy treated a girl well—and when it was done in an authentically courteous, cavalier way.
Anya looked at the scrawled writing on one of the walls. It was the neatest, spray painted graffiti art she’d ever seen.
In a society that has abolished all adventure, the only adventure left is to abolish that society, read the neat capital letters.
“Dans une société qui a aboli toute aventure, la seule aventure qui reste est celle d’abolir la société,” Nin said in fluent French. “We stole that from a slogan from the May 1968 uprising in France. It had everything to do with politically-engaged youth that wanted their culture to be put into their own hands, wanted their lives to be less ruled by the state.”
He was cultured and committed, and Anya was absolutely smitten. She looked a little confused, as she reached out to touch the walls on the side of the tunnel. She stood motionless, when she turned to the right and realized she was g
azing in the direction of a titanium train carriage, the bottom of which was lit by a line of small amber-colored bulbs. A clear portal, surrounded by a ring of cobalt blue, stood like a mirror of shimmering water, a few feet away from the carriage. “What is…this?”
Nin swung himself up into the carriage, and then held a hand out to lead her in. Anya could see him, standing over the control panel. “Our side project—it’s nice what a little bit of magic can do.” His voice was more muffled, though Anya could still make out what he said. “It’s our underground train network.”
Nin scanned a hand over a flat black screen, as a demure, programmed voice greeted him, “Hello, Nin.”
Anya stepped in, as the interior lights began to come on, giving the carriage a luminous glow. The carriage could hold about ten individuals, maybe a few more, if they were all Anya’s size.
“I could probably live here, if I had no other choice,” Nin remarked, standing before the flat black screen. “You can change the mood setting too.”
Anya looked up at him, removing her goggles when some lights in the carriage came on.
Nin moved one of the controls on the panel—and some classical music came on via the speakers located in the corners of the train carriage.
“The Blue Danube,” Nin said, taking Anya’s hand.
She froze, grinning back at him. “I can’t dance.” Not with the grace and elegance this type of dance required.
“Worry not—the waltz is a dance performed in triple time.” Nin’s arm rested on Anya’s lower back, while his left hand lifted up Anya’s right hand, in a poised, but relaxed position. “Just flow...”
As it were, the music had reached a slower segment. Anya followed Nin’s lead, as he gently dipped and raised their bodies with each step, enhancing the flow of their movements.
They glided together to the enchanting waltz music, till the music started to pick up in pace and intensity, and Nin stopped abruptly. Their bodies were still in a frame, and his head was held high. Anya turned her head to the side for a moment, and Nin tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. Anya edged back a little, when he seemed to lean in, as she leaned further back, resting on his arm that was supporting her back.
“Is…this your secret hideout?”
Nin held her gaze for a second, before bringing their bodies up again. He let her go. “Oh no…this does way more than that.”
Of all the moronic questions to ask…Anya thought to herself. But he wouldn’t have kissed me—it was just part of the dance. She placed a hand on the cool metal interior of the carriage. “How did this begin?”
Nin was more than happy to share the story. “Dresan and I were standing on a street one night,” he narrated, with a theatrical, dramatic flair. “The road glistened before us…it was empty…it was ours. We cast a bet…to see who could travel the fastest on two bikes we hijacked. We tried to cheat, using magic.”
“What kind of magic? Did it work?”
Nin shook his head. “We knew of an old spell for speed. We chanted it—nothing happened. But later that night, I found an old discarded train carriage”—Nin put a hand out—“this train carriage, underground. This time, the spell worked!” Nin’s energy and zest for innovation reminded Anya of Willy Wonka from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, a book by one of her favorite authors. “Dresan and I added a few more functions along the way. Tavia worked on the portals, which work a little bit like movable train stations. One thing led to another. We have a nice way to travel now.”
Nin was glowing with excitement. The train was a perfect example of art and science—of magic, and logic—coming together in harmony. It was proof that the two disciplines could not only exist side-by-side, but could be combined, to create inventions that had never been accomplished before.
Anya looked at him, in quiet admiration. “Where does this go? Why does the magic only work underground?”
“Anywhere—as long as there’s one of our passageways, to exit. We travel station to station underground, then walk a bit to the specific openings above ground. Which usually come in the form of doors hidden in trees…”
Anya thought back to the tree, which led to the narrow staircase, down to where the elves lived. The band of Elven thieves she knew, that is. She could have passed hundreds, or even thousands of trees, which led to passages she had never known.
“It travels at an exponential rate—basically,” Nin continued, “it keeps going faster and faster…so you can get to faraway destinations quickly, too.”
Nin didn’t answer Anya’s second question about the magic’s selective properties. He liked saving the better things for later. Before Anya could re-ask him, he took a seat next to her. “Hold on.”
Anya sat still, her senses engaged in wild anticipation. She took a deep breath, as the train approached the blue portal.
In a second, the surrounding scenes were shadows flitting amidst a brilliant burst of cosmic light that spread out like an ocean’s infinity. The train sped ahead. Anya stayed close to Nin, holding onto his hand as tightly as she could, exhilaration burning through her.
Nin hit the wrong button, and a song with a strong bass and drum beat came on. Anya recognized the electronica tune: Chemical Beats, by The Chemical Brothers. Nin shrugged—the song was energetic fuel to complement the train system. A faint high whistle started to ring in Anya’s ears, as the super sophisticated bullet train whizzed ahead. Their surroundings had turned into a champagne supernova, reminding Anya of all the fantabulous colors of the Milky Way. She looked over at Nin. Delight was written all over his face, like it was the first time he was riding on the train. He had possibly traveled this way more than she could count.
Several minutes in human time passed, before the train suddenly swerved, and Anya saw a bright blue light. When the train stopped, Anya turned back—the blue portal had transported them to their new destination. The ride was more comfortable than Anya expected—riding her first motorbike was a lot scarier.
She had to regain her balance, when she stood up. Nin was already busy looking for something in the carriage.
“You’ll need this.” Nin grabbed a garment—a dark heather gray cloak—from an overhead compartment in the train, and passed it over to Anya.
Anya put on the full-length cloak. It was smoother than cashmere.
Nin hopped out of the carriage. Anya quickened her pace to follow closely behind him. He entered a narrow passageway, and up the stairs they went. A door swung open—crisp air filled Anya’s lungs, as she stepped out. She found herself overlooking a vast landscape of pure white.
She squinted against the sunlight, putting a hand up to shield her eyes. She hoped she wouldn’t experience snow blindness, a dreadful memory from her first skiing experience. “Nin…where are you?”
She heard nothing. Nothing but a bone chilling breeze, blowing. She thought she could hear a faint shiver of bells, though she couldn’t see anything, when she slowly opened her eyes, and looked around.
“Can…you…see…me?”
She could hear Nin’s voice—he was moving in a semi-circle, in front of her, but she couldn’t see him. Or any footprints in the snow, aside from her own.
“I can’t see you…what is this place? Where are we?”
She heard Nin laugh, a warm, hearty laugh. “I forget our differences, sometimes.”
Anya put an arm out in front of her, wondering if she had some kind of invisibility cloak on. She shut her eyes for a moment, thinking it might sharpen her sense of hearing. Maybe that way, she’d be able to pick out Nin’s movements…
“Do you want…”
Anya stiffened; Nin was speaking into her ear, and standing very close. She could feel his warm breath on her neck—she reached out to see if she could touch him—but he leapt back. He enjoyed playing games, and the participant was willing, too. A thrill ran through Anya—she didn’t know what to expect.
“Do you want to see?”
Anya looked straight in front, even though she
didn’t know for sure if Nin was standing there. “See what?”
Anya turned to the right when she heard Nin’s voice coming from that direction. “Some people get hysterical when they see things…” Nin said, in a voice that reminded Anya of kids who claimed they could see ghosts. “So…you might want to…think about it.”
Anya thought of Leticia for a moment. She had in fact, seen Leticia in a frenzied state, once. They had been camping outdoors—Leticia had woken Anya up in a panic, beads of perspiration across her forehead, swearing she had seen two ghosts dressed in lacy Victorian outfits, sitting on the park bench by the side of their tent. It wasn’t a very pretty sight. Anya decided she would have to keep whatever Nin was going to reveal to her a secret, at least for now.
“Yeah, okay,” Anya murmured out loud. “I’m…”
Nin didn’t wait for her to finish. “Close your eyes,” he whispered, as his fingertips lightly brushed against the sides of her face.
She did so, holding on to the clasp at her neck, which held the cloak around her. She felt something cool go across her eyelids, as Nin blew something over her shut eyes, something which felt like a handful of tiny snowflakes.
“Aa’lle naman ona ela,” he whispered gently. When Nin spoke in his native language, it made the blood in Anya’s veins electric. “May you have the gift of Sight.”
Anya peeked out from a half-open eye first, shifting her eye to the left, where she traced the outline of Nin’s figure standing beside her. Even though she wasn’t facing him, Anya could feel a certain sense of pride emanating from him. She knew she could consider it a privilege, that Nin accepted her presence here.
“Welcome to Helli’sandur.”
Nin, the prince turned wayward deviant, had come home.