“Wonder why they’d think that? Given that on your planet, it’s been wasted for the sake of war for centuries.”
Layla nodded. “They aren’t wrong. But if the fairies had their way, they’d prevent all of us from using it. If there were more of them, they’d probably succeed. Instead, though, they’ll just watch you. You might not even realize it—unless they catch you doing something naughty, magic-wise, that is. Then they’ll become something of a nuisance.”
“A nuisance how, exactly?” I asked.
Layla shrugged. “No one knows all they’re capable of, but they’ll find ways to fuck with you. They usually start small, little pranks to get your attention. Like warning shots, I suppose. But then, provided you don’t get the clue and keep using magic, they’ll escalate their attacks.”
I scratched my head. “I don’t get it. You say you have fairies on New Albion. How is it that you’ve been able to wage wars for so long? Wouldn’t the fairies stop you?”
“They’ve tried,” Layla said, “but fairies can be killed. The elves have been hunting them down for years. There are hardly any left on New Albion, and those that remain are too scared to get involved.”
“I see,” I said.
“Here on Earth, no one has hunted them for centuries. Their numbers still aren’t huge, but they’re more numerous here than on New Albion. And since there are only a handful of people on Earth who can wield magic, it won’t take many of them to quickly become a nuisance.”
I shook my head. “Why haven’t we talked about this until now?”
Layla shrugged. “No need. As long as you keep using magic the way it’s intended, it shouldn’t be an issue. The only reason it came up now was that you asked when I mentioned that the chosen one is supposed to unite all the peoples.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. Still, it would be nice to know what other magical creatures might be out there that could cause problems.”
“On Earth, that’s pretty much it. As far as I’m aware, anyway.”
“As far as you’re aware?” I asked. “Aren’t you supposed to know about this stuff?”
Layla shook her head. “Remember, our people haven’t been on Earth for centuries. I’m one of just a handful of visitors who’ve come here to study human society. Beyond that, all we know about the Earth’s magical history is whatever knowledge our ancestors passed on through the elven priesthood.”
“The priesthood.” I huffed. “The ones who only share however much of the prophecies they want the people to know?”
“The same,” Layla agreed.
“So there might be more about this stuff that your ancestors meant for you to know that the priesthood has kept from the rest of the elves?” I asked.
Layla bit her lip. “I suppose that might be true, now that I think about it. Keep in mind, until just recently, I believed the elves were the good guys.”
I snorted. “Yeah, seems kind of funny that the giants, the so-called orcs, are the noble ones.”
“The elves used to be, too. Originally, before we became elves, before we left Earth, our druid ancestors were sages, brilliant and honorable. But that was when they were connected to the Earth. Centuries apart from the Earth with only a bit of stolen magic used to invigorate our planet changed us, it seems.”
“I can see why your people would want to come back,” I said. “I mean, if Earth is a part of what your people used to revere.”
“’Used to’ is the key,” Layla said. “Now I think they only worship power. They use the whole idea of reverencing the Earth as justification for their plans to come here and punish humanity. You know, for pollution and whatnot.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, all that whatnot is destroying the planet.”
Layla snorted. “The ecological hazards that shall not be named. Too many to count. ‘Whatnot’ is an all-inclusive term.”
“I’m all for inclusivity,” I said. “We need a more welcoming world.”
“You see, that’s why you’re the chosen one. Why you’re the one who is supposed to unify all the people. However, that pans out once the last two seals are revealed.”
I nodded. “We’ll see, I suppose.”
“Want to watch a show or something?” Layla asked.
I sighed. “I was thinking of trying to catch an eight o’clock meeting. With the car vandalized on top of everything else, I could use one.”
In truth, I needed a meeting because I still was incredibly uneasy. I wasn’t going to drink over it or anything. Given all that was happening, the one thing I knew I couldn’t do was take a drink. If I wanted everything to get even more stressful, that would be the way to do it.
Layla grabbed my hand. “Do what you need to do. I’ll be here when you get back. Maybe we’ll have a little time before bed? Need to make sure you’re getting your eight hours of sleep, though, so your muscles can adapt to the workouts.”
I nodded. “I think I can make it back by nine-thirty, ten at the latest.”
Layla leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “All right, I’ll see you soon.”
I pulled her close and kissed her forehead.
Chapter Ten
Every AA meeting begins with the Serenity Prayer. After that, there’s a reading from the “How it Works” chapter of the Big Book. Part of that reading says the program demands rigorous honesty.
I’d reflected on those words before. I had to be honest with myself that I just couldn’t drink like a normal person. No matter how much I wanted to, no matter what methods I tried, one drink would always turn into twenty.
But tonight, those words struck me to the core. How could I embrace a life of rigorous honesty while lying to the one person who’d risked everything and effectively given up her family and her entire world because she believed in me?
But Agnus hadn’t said anything to change my mind. Why not figure out if what Brag’mok said was even possible first? Make sure that we could retrieve B’iff’s body before the prospect of the gate closing was an issue. Then I could tell Layla.
It made sense.
It minimized the chance that she might freak out and go back to New Albion and get herself arrested, but it also meant, even if for a short time, that I wasn’t rigorous about my honesty. It meant having to use the soup kitchen as a cover to go to Meramec Springs with Brag’mok. It meant not telling her about why the tires were slashed.
“Caspar,” Rusty said when it was my turn to share, “do you have something to say tonight?”
Rusty was my sponsor. He was an older man, an electrician with more years of sobriety than I had fingers and toes. He was the guy I had done my fourth step with, the one where you make a list of all your character defects.
Mine had been a tome.
Rusty knew it all, and he could see right through me. No one other than my mother could read me that well.
If I passed my turn to share, he’d know something was up.
I never passed. Preachers never pass up a chance to hear themselves talk, and I was no exception to that.
“Yeah,” I said. “I have something I’d like to say. I’m sorry if it’s off-topic. In truth, I wasn’t paying much attention to the topic because my mind is stewing on something. As some of you know, I’m in a new relationship. It’s going well, but something came up that I was told I should hide from her. Something that if she knew about it, it might cause her harm. But here’s the thing. If I don’t tell her the truth, I’m going to have to create a whole web of lies, and I don’t know if I can handle that. Part of me thinks I should just tell her. I should trust that she’s not going to take the information and do anything rash. But then again, I’m worried that I’d only tell her for selfish reasons. Because I’m afraid if I keep this information from her, she’ll hate me for it once she finds out. But I don’t want to see her get hurt, either. I don’t know what to do.”
Rusty cleared his throat. “Thanks, Caspar.”
I nodded. We weren’t supposed to cross-talk in meetings. If s
omeone talked, it wasn’t the place for other members to directly address the person. It was a rule meant to prevent people from giving unsolicited advice. Not all advice, even in an AA group, was helpful. The rule also prevented one person’s issue from taking over the group. But I knew Rusty would have a few words for me after the meeting. As my sponsor, I’d given him permission to verbally slap me sideways when I needed it. He wasn’t a shrink, and he didn’t have any training as a therapist, but he did know what it took to stay sober.
There were another half-dozen or so folks who shared. Usually, I try to listen. It’s not a good thing to be in your head during a meeting. Hard to get something out of it without listening. But I was overwhelmed by my dilemma.
The meeting finished, as was our custom, with the Lord’s Prayer. Then, as I knew he was bound to do, Rusty pulled me aside.
“What’s going on, Caspar?” Rusty asked.
I shook my head. “I’d tell you the details, but it’s kind of unbelievable, and it involves secrets that aren’t mine to share.”
Rusty nodded. “I can respect that. But I’m concerned about you.”
I sighed. “I am, too. I don’t like this. Hiding things. Not being truthful. Having to use other things as a cover to get away with the lie. Reminds me of when I was drinking.”
Rusty nodded. “That’s why sobriety demands rigorous honesty, Caspar.”
I bit my lip. “I’m scared. If I tell her the truth…”
“Why do you think it’s your job to protect her from information she probably wants to know?” Rusty asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe because the person who asked me to help him with the thing that would impact her asked me not to tell her.”
Rusty shook his head. “If someone is telling you to lie to someone you love, if they’re putting that burden on you, then what they’re asking of you isn’t right. It isn’t fair.”
“I get that,” I said. “But I also feel like I owe this person something. He’s sacrificed a lot for my sake. It feels like I have to respect his request for a secret.”
“Well, there are a couple of ways to think about this,” Rusty said. “But you said in the meeting that this woman you’re with, you’re afraid she’ll leave you if you don’t tell her. Why did you say that?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Because if I were in her position, I’d want to know.”
“And you don’t think she’d understand why you felt obligated to keep it a secret for the sake of this other person who you said sacrificed something significant for you in the past?” Rusty asked.
I took a deep breath. “I think she’d understand, but she’d also be angry about it.”
Rusty scratched his head. “Why don’t you give her the choice?”
“What do you mean?” I raised one eyebrow. “How can I do that without telling her the truth?”
“Just the way you told us tonight,” Rusty said. “Tell her that you’ve been presented with something, and someone asked you to keep it a secret from her. Tell her what you’re afraid of happening either way. Then let her decide if she wants to know.”
I grinned. “You know, that’s not half-bad advice.”
Rusty patted me on the shoulder. “That’s what I’m here for. Remember, rigorous honesty. It’s not always easy, but there’s always a way.”
Chapter Eleven
I hated to admit it, but I felt like Rusty’s advice was probably better than the idea I’d sorted out in consultation with my cat. Not that Agnus wasn’t a good familiar and didn’t provide decent council.
But at the end of the day, he was a cat.
And since they didn’t have Al-Anon groups for the pets of alcoholics, groups where people could go to gain some understanding of what their loved one is going through, he didn’t understand why hiding the truth for even a moment was so terrifying to me.
I can’t live with half-truths and lies lurking over my life.
Brag’mok might be pissed, but even he’d only urged me to lie for Layla’s sake. At least, that was the reason he gave me. If there was more to it than that, if there was another reason he didn’t want Layla to know what we were doing, all the more reason to tell her. I mean, could I trust the giant who’d slashed my tires to lure me into a conversation more than the elf I loved? The one who’d saved my life and had given up so much for my sake?
I reached into my pocket and grabbed my phone as I walked out of my meeting so I could switch it off silent.
Fifteen missed calls, all from Layla.
One text message.
Caspar. Emergency at home. Couldn’t wait. Had to go back to New Albion. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Keep training. Agnus has details. Love u. Xoxo Layla.
“Fuck!” I shouted out loud, garnering a few stares from a few AA members who were still lingering in the hall.
Don’t go, I quickly typed back. Something I have to tell you first.
As I took off running, I double-checked the bus schedule on my phone. What were the chances that if I took the Metro I’d catch her in time?
No reply to my text, either. Not yet.
I found a dark corner behind the dumpster in the back of the AA club. I didn’t care if people saw me, given the urgency of the situation. Still, all things being equal, it would be better if they didn’t.
I took a deep breath and did my best to clear my mind. The hardest thing about magic was that it took a focused mind, but the times I needed magic the most were usually urgent situations like this one, when focusing was practically impossible.
Still, I’d done it before. I could do it again.
Breathe, Caspar.
I visualized myself taking off into the sky and flying home. I had to do it all in my mind’s eye, but it was possible.
This was one reason Layla had me doing yoga—all the chaos of the body trying to hold impossible poses while, at the same time, clearing my mind. That was what I needed. It wasn’t just about flexibility.
I felt a breeze against my face and opened my eyes.
“Shit,” I said, still seeing the back of the dumpster in front of me. It was just a gust of wind, and it smelled delightful, given that I was crouching behind a dumpster.
I tried again. I inhaled slowly. I exhaled.
My body soared through the skies just like Superman.
Again nothing.
My phone rang in my pocket, A Cloak of Elvenkind by Marcy Playground. It was Layla’s ringtone.
A video call.
I quickly answered.
“Layla!” I said just before Agnus’ face appeared on my screen.
“Seriously?” I asked out loud. “Where’s Layla?”
“She’s gone, Caspar. She left her phone here. Some other elf came and grabbed her. Said something had happened to her father. Assassinated by Hector.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Hector is dead, Agnus.”
Agnus shook his head. “Apparently not. And since he says he survived a stab by the Blade of Echoes, he’s claiming he’s the chosen one.”
I bit my lip. “How long ago did Layla leave?”
“You’re not going to catch up with her,” Agnus said. “The guy that showed up, I think it was one of the elven priests. They went through some kind of gateway, probably back to the portal.”
“Maybe if I can fly there?”
“Caspar,” Agnus said, “you can’t stop her. This is her father, her family. Even if you got to her, what would you tell her?”
I sighed. “The truth, Agnus. I’d tell her the truth.”
I had to take the Metro. Even if I could fly, I was too late, based on what Agnus had told me.
But things didn’t add up.
I’d seen Hector’s body dissolve into a cloud of golden dust. He’d stabbed himself with the false blade, thinking it was the genuine Blade of Echoes and thereby proving he was the real chosen one, but by so doing, he’d attuned his soul to the fake. When I’d overwhelmed the fake blade with magic and destroyed it, he’d died, too.
He was in more pieces than Humpty Dumpty. Not even all the king's horses and men could put that elf back together again.
A strange fairytale, now that I thought about it. I mean, how much help did anyone expect the king’s horses to be in the Humpty Dumpty reassembly project, anyway? And the king’s men? Come on. Humpty Dumpty needed serious medical attention.
I half-wondered if it was a genuine fairytale, a story told by real fairies, now that I knew fairies were real. Who was Mother Goose, anyway?
I clenched my fists.
If only I’d told Layla from the start. I don’t know what she would have done, but it might have prevented this from happening.
Now, if I helped Brag’mok retrieve B’iff’s body, if we closed the gate, there was a chance I’d never see Layla again.
I wanted to go after her. I knew where the portal was, but I hadn’t dared go through it.
Who was I kidding?
The only advantage I had here was that I had a unique connection to the Earth’s magic. I could access it in insane quantities. I’d barely scratched the surface in terms of what was possible.
But if I went to New Albion where magic was in short supply, I’d be helpless.
That was not why Layla had said I needed to get into fighting shape. She’d never once mentioned having to go to New Albion for any reason, much less to rescue her.
She’d said she’d be fine. She’d said I should keep training. Why was I even thinking she needed rescuing?
I shook my head. Maybe I just wanted to play knight in shining armor. I suppose I’ve always had a hero complex in my relationships.
My ex-wife had had issues I knew about before we were together. I thought I’d save her from it all. Part of me went into ministry because I thought by doing that, I was saving people. And now, I was the chosen one who was supposed to save the world.
Going after Layla would be a suicide mission. Frankly, she could handle herself better alone than if I was there and she had to worry about keeping me safe. She was the badass warrior princess, not me. I wasn’t badass, I wasn’t a warrior, and I wasn’t a princess, though Agnus might dispute that last part.
Old Dogma New Tricks (The Elven Prophecy Book 2) Page 7