Old Dogma New Tricks (The Elven Prophecy Book 2)

by Theophilus Monroe

  Layla smiled slightly. “So it’s decided. You fly to the park. I’ll take the Metro and meet you there.”

  “I’ll have to fly slow or give you a thirty-minute head start or something. But what if people see me? I mean, if I’m Supermanning it across the city, someone is bound to notice.”

  “Well, you can’t perform multiple spells at once,” Layla said. “Otherwise, I’d suggest cloaking yourself while you do it.”

  “I can cloak myself?” I asked.

  “It’s Earth magic. It’s not like a cloak, not like a starship would on Star Trek. It’s more like a chameleon. You can use magic to blend into the world around you.”

  “Well, even if I could visualize that, like you said, I can’t do it while flying.”

  “Technically,” Layla said, “you probably could, given your level-five abilities.”

  “Not going to figure it out now. The only way I can see pulling this off at all is if we go while it’s still dark. If people see me, it’ll be too dark for them to tell what it is as long as the magic glow around me isn’t too obvious.”

  Layla nodded. “I’d wear black just in case.”

  I nodded and went to my closet. I had a few dark-colored polos, but my arms were so white that I figured long sleeves were best for cloaking purposes. The only long-sleeved black shirt I had was my clergy shirt, the one that was supposed to have the ring-neck clergy collar affixed to it. Without that, it just looked like one of those collarless dress shirts from the nineties. You know, the ones that just buttoned to a ring-neck and, back then, had some kind of stud or something to fasten it together at the Adam’s apple. Of course, it wasn’t like I was hip on the latest fashion. For all I knew, it was back in style again.

  Last I’d tried it on, it hadn’t fit. I had been thinner back in my seminary days. But I put it on, and I was pleasantly surprised.

  “Wow,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve worn this in five or six years. Surprised it fits.”

  Layla winked. “Looking good, hottie. You must work out.”

  I smiled. “I do. By the way, thanks for siccing Jag on me.”

  “He’s a douchebag, right?” Layla asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “In a good way, if that’s a thing. But fifty bucks a session?”

  Layla shrugged. “End of the world money. I figured it was worth it.”

  “Except saving the world doesn’t pay well. If we succeed, I’m going to have to pay it off.”

  Layla shrugged. “I’d say those are first-world problems. You know, they’re the sort of problems you have when there’s a world to have problems in.”

  “True,” I said. “Here’s hoping I get to pay off my credit cards.”

  I finished buttoning my shirt and slid into a pair of black slacks. “How do I look?”

  “Sexy,” Layla said. “You look really good in black.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, better than I thought. Still not putting the clergy collar on the shirt, though.”

  Layla giggled. “Flying priests!”

  “Except I’m not a priest. I’m a pastor.”

  “I know,” Layla said. “But that’s what people would think if they saw you.”

  I chuckled at the idea. I mean, there are a disproportionate number of superhero and Star Wars fanboys who go into the ministry, Catholic, Protestant, whatever. Most of us had superhero fantasies when we were children, and once we realized saving the world through powers wasn’t a viable career path, we figured we’d try to save people with religion instead.

  At least, that was my working theory about why so many geeky fanboys ended up as ministers.

  The rest of them, I suppose, became urban fantasy authors.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Part of me wanted to put on my collar. The whole “Super Priest” alias tickled my funny bone.

  But I hated wearing that thing because breathing was one of those habits I’d rather not shake.

  Layla got a head start. We figured a good thirty-minute delay on the Metro, but we’d left enough time that I figured I’d be able to make it to the park while still enjoying the cover of night.

  I don’t know if I was hoping Layla was right or not. I mean, if she was wrong, using my magic to fly across the city was sure to get the attention of the fairies again.

  Then again, I didn’t want her to be right, either.

  Brag’mok, or the giant I’d assumed was Brag’mok, had become a friend. I’d learned a lot from him.

  How would he feel about me siccing Agnus on him?

  I’d worry about that later.

  “I’m not flying with you,” Agnus said as I tried to push him into his carrier.

  “You have to,” I said. “It’s the only way to pull this off. They won’t let me bring you on the Metro.”

  “Haven’t you ever heard of Uber?”

  I bit my lip. “Dude, why didn’t you speak up earlier?”

  “Look it up,” Agnus said.

  I pulled out my phone. Sure enough, Uber offered pet-friendly rides.

  I shook my head. “Layla already left. We have to stick to the plan.”

  “You probably could have called a regular taxi too, dumb ass,” Agnus said.

  I snorted. “Again, we can’t change our plans. Layla is expecting us.”

  “Text her,” Agnus ordered.

  I sighed. “Dude, I was looking forward to this.”

  “Don’t call me ‘dude,’” Agnus said. “It’s irreverent.”

  “Irreverent?” I asked. “You’re a cat.”

  “Precisely.”

  I rolled my eyes, then pulled out my phone and texted Layla. I suggested an Uber. She responded with a laughing emoji.

  “What the hell does that mean?” I asked, showing it to Agnus.

  A few seconds later, she responded, Just fly. Tell Agnus to get over it. If I’m wrong, we need to deal with the fairies anyway.

  “Sorry,” I said. “The boss has spoken. Air Caspar, it is.”

  Agnus stared at me. “Fuck.”

  I laughed out loud. “They say flying is the safest way to travel.”

  “On a plane!” Agnus protested. “Not in a cat carrier in some wannabe superhero’s hands!”

  “Wannabe?” I asked. “I’m seriously trying to save the world here. What’s wannabe about that?”

  “You don’t even have a cape,” Agnus said. “At least get a cape.”

  “I’ll have to put that on my to-do list,” I said. “But not a bad idea.”

  “Just hold me,” Agnus snorted. “Don’t make me go into the box of death.”

  “It will be easier if you go in the box,” I said. “And won’t you feel safer?”

  “Safer?” Agnus asked. “Because if you drop me in the box, my chances of survival are exponentially increased? Just carry me, Caspar.”

  “Fine,” I said. “But don’t wiggle.”

  “Why would I wiggle?” Agnus asked, “You just better not drop me. If you do, I’ll haunt you with my lost life and terrorize you indefinitely with the eight I have left.”

  I shrugged. “At least if I did drop you, you’d land on your feet. They say cats always land on their feet.”

  “That’s a myth, asshole.”

  “We could test it. I mean, you’ve seen Mythbusters, right?”

  “No need for experiments,” Agnus said. “I have experience. If I can’t fall off the back of the couch and land on my feet…”

  “Good point,” I said, chuckling. “Don’t worry, I won’t drop you. I have a strong grip, you know, since I’ve been working out.”

  “How many times have you done this now, anyway?” Agnus asked.

  I shrugged. “This is, like, my fourth time.”

  “Not much of a sample size to prove it is safe.”

  “It will be fine. Just don’t wiggle. You’re harder to hold onto that way. Consider this payback for clawing up my couch,” I said as I scooped up Agnus.

  “Payback?” Agnus asked. “You can’t put a perfectly good piece of
furniture in our place and expect me not to claw the fuck out of it. That would be unthinkable.”

  I smiled. “Now hush. I have to focus my mind to do this.”

  Agnus started singing, “I’m a little teapot, short and stout.”

  “Shut up,” I said.

  “If you can’t focus, you can’t fly.”

  I sighed. “Whatever. I can tune you out.”

  “This is the song that never ends,” Agnus continued singing. “It just goes on and on, my friend. Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “And they’ll continue singing it forever just because.”

  “This is the song that never ends!”

  I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath while Agnus started his second round of what very well might be the most annoying song ever. Thankfully, he lost interest after the second time through. If there was such a thing as an annoying knob, he’d turned it up to max.

  “Mmm bop, a doobie doo wop, mmm bop.”

  I should never have doubted that he might be able to find something more irritating.

  “Hey, Barbie,” Agnus said, lowering his voice as much as I imagined he could. “Wanna go for a ride?”

  Then, in full falsetto, he continued, “Sure, Ken!”

  “Agnus,” I said, holding him in front of my face. “Shut up!”

  “Come on, Barbie!” Agnus shouted into my face. “Don’t you want to party?”

  I tucked him under my arm. If I could focus through yoga and could get through that whole routine while ignoring his sarcastic remarks, surely I could focus now despite his tone-deaf attempt at a mash-up of the worst songs ever recorded. At least before the turn of the millennium.

  I inhaled deeply and focused on the air as it entered my lungs. I was standing right next to my Mitsubishi. If only Brag’mok hadn’t slashed my tires.

  I released my breath.

  Not the cleanest air in the city, but it did feel cleaner when it was dark and still cool. Before the sun came out and cooked the smog that coursed through the air.

  Breathe in, breathe out.

  Machinehead by Bush came to mind. I loved that song.

  With a song I liked on my mind, I could more easily tune out Agnus, who was now who-who-who-ing his way through Who Let the Dogs Out.

  Breathe in, Breathe out.

  I visualized myself hovering over my apartment, then taking off into the skies.

  Based on my limited experience wielding magic, I knew when I visualized it and felt the tingle of magic around me, it was happening.

  I tightened my grip on Agnus. I couldn’t let him distract me mid-flight.

  He got the clue. No sooner did I feel the breeze against my face than he stopped singing, his body curled up and shaking in my arms.

  I felt bad for him. He’d been through more than his share of traumatic experiences, being kidnapped (or catnapped) by Hector, accidentally turning on the bathtub faucet full-stream while pawing at the knob, hoping to get a drink, having his anal glands expressed by the vet, or anything that had to do with going to the vet.

  Hopefully, he’d get used to this. For me, it was a thrill.

  I maintained my focus. While I was connected to magic, it was better to use my mind's eye than my actual eyes to navigate. It was like the magic of the world, what some folks referred to as the spirits of the place, all coalesced in my mind, giving me a picture of everything around me, more than I could normally see. I could see through things, around things. I could visualize the whole path between my apartment and Forest Park.

  I fixed my mind on my destination, and the wind against my face intensified. I’d say it blew my hair back, but since I’d had that encounter with the fairy and Nair-tainted shampoo, all I had was a little stubble.

  It would grow back sooner or later, but for now, I wouldn’t have a wind-blown mop of ridiculousness atop my head when I landed.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I landed in the clearing where I’d been practicing with Brag’mok. I figured he’d be here soon. I’d never arrived before he did, so I didn’t know how early he usually was for our training appointments.

  I pulled out my phone. Almost here?

  Layla responded a few seconds later. Yes. I see u. Just looking for a place to hide.

  She was there in case the shit hit the fan once Agnus revealed Brag’mok to be a fairy. Giant or fairy, either way, the Brag’mok I’d been training with was pretty strong. If he wanted to, he could rip me apart. Layla was waiting, probably with her bow drawn.

  “How was the flight, Agnus?” I asked, scratching my cat behind the ears.

  “And they say flying coach is bad.”

  I laughed. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never flown anything other than coach.”

  “Think they have a sandbox around here?” Agnus asked.

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “Maybe a playground. Sometimes they fill the play areas with sand.”

  “Or mulch,” Agnus said. “I’m not pissing in mulch.”

  “Just go anywhere,” I said. “We’re outside. No one cares.”

  “If I can’t bury it, I’ll hold it,” Agnus said. “Or I’ll go when you’re holding me for the flight back.”

  “Yeah, the flight back.” I chuckled. With the sun coming up, we hadn’t thought about a flight back. “I think we’ll be taking an Uber back home.”

  “Brilliant idea,” Agnus said with more than a little sarcasm in his voice. “Wish I’d thought of that the first time.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  Then I heard a scream.

  Brag’mok had caught Layla in the bushes on his way in, and he had her pinned to the ground.

  “Agnus!” I shouted. “Now!”

  “Get off of me!” Layla shouted and she kicked hard, catching Brag’mok in the nuts.

  I winced.

  Brag’mok rolled off her, clinging to his family jewels.

  “Now show us who you really are,” Layla said, standing over him, drawing her bow, and pointing it at him.

  Agnus leaped onto Brag’mok’s chest just in time.

  “Honey,” Agnus said. “This is no fairy.”

  Layla cocked her head. “What?”

  “You thought I was a fairy?” Brag’mok asked. “Seriously?”

  “Sorry,” I said before looking at Layla. She just shrugged as if to say, “Welp, I must’ve been wrong about that one.” I reached down to grab Brag’mok’s hand. He grabbed mine.

  “You think you can help me up? Your whole body weighs not much more than one of my legs.”

  I smiled. “It would be rude not to try.”

  “And a cat? You thought I was a fairy too, Caspar?”

  I shrugged. “Care to explain your theory, Layla?”

  Layla took a deep breath. “Sorry, Brag’mok. And my condolences on your loss.”

  Brag’mok nodded. “Thank you. But now that you’re here, we really must retrieve my brother’s body and hopefully close the gate.”

  “About that,” Layla said. “What do you know about what’s happening in my father’s kingdom?”

  “Same as anyone,” Brag’mok said. “Hector, seemingly back from the dead, assassinated your father. He’s making a play for the throne. I figured when you went back, you’d be challenging his claim.”

  Layla shook her head and proceeded to explain what she’d told me about how neither Hector nor her father being who they appeared to be. How they’d abducted her father and were holding him in a cave.

  Brag’mok grunted. “Everything makes sense now. Come, we must hurry. Before it’s too late.”

  “Too late?” I asked. “What’s happening?”

  Brag’mok shook his head. “The fairies didn’t abduct King Brightborn. He invited them to New Albion. They are carrying out his plan.”

  Layla cocked her head. “You’re certain of this? How can you know? And why would he fake his death?”

  “So he could return from the dead,” I said. “Nothing inspires peop
le more than a resurrection. Trust me, people have been following the faith I preach for centuries on the basis that someone rose from the dead. If he wants to rally the elves, if he wants to do something big…”

  Brag’mok nodded. “And if he gets to the source and he retrieves B’iff’s body before I can conclude his death rites…”

  Layla sighed. “B’iff was attuned to the Blade of Echoes. When he stabbed himself—”

  “He became the new Blade of Echoes,” Brag’mok said. “Everything the blade was meant to do, to bring magic back to New Albion, his body can do that.”

  “So, when you were going to commit his body to the ley lines on New Albion,” I said, “you were planning to save your planet at the same time?”

  Brag’mok nodded. “It’s not the only reason. What I told you before was true. A pain languishes in my soul until he is put to rest. But it has always been the giants’ position that we should make New Albion our home, while the elves wanted to return to the Earth.”

  “They wanted that with a vengeance,” Layla said, shaking her head. “Not what I’d been taught growing up.”

  “But a fact no less,” Brag’mok said. “It’s why the elves and giants have been fighting nearly since the day we arrived on New Albion.”

  “And if King Brightborn acquires B’iff’s body first?” I said. “I mean, the gate is open now. Wasn’t the original plan to use the Blade of Echoes to create a permanent gate?”

  “It was,” Brag’mok said. “And he’ll be able to do that, only with the power contained in my brother’s body, he’ll be able to control the gate. And he won’t use the magic contained in B’iff’s body to save New Albion. He’ll use it to assault Earth.”

  Layla shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why would the fairies do that? From what I saw, most of the fairies who had come to New Albion were from Earth. If my father invited them, why would they come? Don’t they hate those who misuse magic?”

  Brag’mok nodded. “But the fairies of old were honored by the druids, your ancestors. The Earth-born fairies know nothing of your father’s taste for blood or the way he’s used magic before.”

  “What if the Earth fairies meet any from New Albion?”

  Brag’mok shook his head. “Before he invited the Earth-born fairies, he killed them all, Layla.”