Old Dogma New Tricks (The Elven Prophecy Book 2)

by Theophilus Monroe

  My eyes glowed with fairy magic, even as the rest of my body was overwhelmed with enough magic to power a planet.

  Then the king came after me with a large blade.

  “Pivot!” Brag’mok shouted.

  I remembered my training. I swung my foot to the side, evading the king’s strike, then used my hand, my left one that didn’t have the ring on it, to shove the king out of the way, forcing him to stumble.

  My eyes glowed brighter and, looking at the ground, a portal formed, glittering gold, just the size of my fist.

  A target.

  Strike it! Ensley said.

  I slammed my right fist into the target Ensley had made, and all the magic that filled my body poured into the small portal.

  A shock wave sent everyone around me flying.

  Not only Brag’mok and Layla but the king and all his soldiers, too.

  The king and his men screamed in pain as they picked up their bodies off the ground, holding their necks.

  Green orbs floated out from behind them.

  The other fairies had left the elves.

  And in a split second, new grasses grew from the soil.

  A cool breeze struck the side of my face.

  We’d done it. We’d recharged New Albion.

  “Back to the gate,” Brag’mok said. “I’ll try to hold them off.”

  “Come with us,” I said. “I can’t leave you to fight a whole legion.”

  “He isn’t alone,” Ensley said, climbing out of my skin again. This time, he healed me on the way out. “We’re here to help him fight them. Be yourself, Caspar. We’re depending on you. Both worlds depend on you.”

  I nodded at Ensley, then at Brag’mok. “Thank you. Both of you.”

  “Now that the ley lines are charged,” Brag’mok said, “the gate will likely go back to how it behaved before, opening only on full moons. And only a few can go through at a time. You have to hurry.”

  I nodded and scooped up Agnus. “Layla,” I said, “come on!”

  “One second,” Layla said, pulling an arrow from her quiver. She aimed and shot it through her father’s leg.

  “Layla!” the king shouted as he screamed in pain.

  “That’ll slow him down,” Layla said. She fired another arrow, then another and several more in rapid succession, striking the elf soldiers in their legs.

  “Damn!” I said. “Impressive.”

  Layla shrugged. “I’ve had practice. Wanted to give Brag’mok and Ensley every advantage I could.”

  I smiled.

  “Come on, Casp!” Agnus said. “I can’t stand this smell. Too much fairy!”

  I laughed and took off running.

  Running through fields with freshly sprouted grass, with trees growing all around us, almost like watching them take shape through time-lapse photography. It was surreal.

  And beautiful.

  “It’s been years,” Layla said as we ran side by side. “I never thought I’d see our world like this again.”

  I smiled. “I’d talk, but I’m out of breath.”

  Layla chuckled. “I think we need to add more cardio to your routine.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Agnus was freaking the fuck out.

  When we came back through the portal to Earth, just as Layla had said, we appeared in the middle of the river.

  The gateway dissipated behind us the moment we passed through.

  Agnus squirmed and released a drawn-out nasal meow.

  I could barely hold onto him.

  “I’m going to die! I’m going to drown!”

  “You’ll be fine,” I said, kicking toward the shore as I tried to swim with the current, holding him above the water as best I could. “But if you keep wiggling in my arms, I won’t be able to hold you out of the water.”

  Layla made it to shore before I did. Because of the current, Agnus and I were probably twenty yards farther downstream by the time we reached dry land.

  “I will never forgive you,” Agnus snarled.

  I rolled my eyes. “You forgave me for neutering you. You’ll get over this.”

  “I never forgave you for that. I just chose not to think about it. Too traumatic. Some things you don’t talk about, not with anyone. Only those who’ve been through the same thing.”

  “Well,” I said, “I don’t know many eunuchs, and even if I did, they wouldn’t be able to talk to cats.”

  “Little boxes. I put my feelings in little boxes. Dry boxes.”

  I snorted. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m drenched, too.”

  “We could fly back,” Layla suggested.

  “Like hell!” Agnus protested.

  I cocked my head as I felt something I hadn’t noticed before.

  I bit my lip. “Just a second. I have an idea.”

  A tingle spread across my brow as my eyes started to glow gold and green. The fairy magic combined with my own.

  “That little bugger,” I laughed out loud. “He left something of himself behind, more than his knowledge. Some of his magic, too.”

  I focused my eyes in front of me, and with a beam of light, formed a circle large enough for us to pass through.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing with that magic?” Layla asked.

  “Not at all,” I said. “But if I visualized this correctly, it should take us to the apartment.”

  I gestured at the gate I’d made.

  “Ladies first,” I said.

  Layla rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure if you’re being gentlemanly or you just want me to test this thing first. You know, in case it drops us into the middle of traffic somewhere.”

  I smirked. “Ensley gave me some of his powers—and a great knowledge of his many pranks, so you never know.”

  “I’m trusting you, Caspar,” Layla said as she jumped through my makeshift portal.

  Holding Agnus tightly, I jumped through behind her.

  We crashed on the bed. I landed on top of Layla.

  She rolled her eyes. “Convenient.”

  “I want nothing to do with this!” Agnus protested. “I’m going to go watch Animal Planet.”

  I laughed as Agnus jumped off the bed and headed for the living room.

  “I can’t believe we did that,” I said, smiling at Layla.

  “I never doubted you,” Layla said. A single tear fell from her eye and trickled down her cheek.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “So many mixed emotions.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Maybe later,” Layla said. “Have any energy left?”

  I smiled sheepishly. “I think I do.”

  Layla wrapped her arms around me and pulled me in for a kiss.

  I felt a tingle, but it wasn’t across my brow this time. This was a whole different kind of magic.

  Layla and I lay there, out of breath. We’d been through a lot. I wasn’t sure how we’d found the energy.

  I’d lasted a full ten minutes this time.

  I think that was twice my record.

  I might be nearly forty, but when it came to some things, my skill wasn’t that much better than an eighteen-year-old’s.

  “You saved our world, Caspar,” Layla said. “I knew you could do it.”

  “For now,” I said.

  Layla choked up.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “My dad. I can’t believe it came to that.”

  “Having to fight your dad?” I asked. “That must’ve been hard.”

  “I shot him in the leg, Caspar,” Layla said. “I mean, it might as well have been a shot through his heart.”

  “You Give Love a Bad Name,” I said.

  Layla raised her eyebrow. “Isn’t that a song?”

  I chuckled. “Bon Jovi.”

  Layla laughed. “I should be angry that you’re making light of my pain, but you know, it felt good to laugh.”

  I took a deep breath. “I’m not making light of it. In my experience, we sometimes have to f
ind a reason to laugh about the things that hurt the most. There’s no other way to get through it.”

  “Tell that to Agnus,” Layla said. “I don’t think he’ll ever get over that little swim.”

  I laughed. “I’ve never seen him quite like that. I mean, there’s the car freak out, but this was on a whole other level.”

  “Well, hopefully, he found some lions or tigers on the television.”

  “Fucking giraffes!” Agnus shouted from the next room. “Seriously?”

  I laughed. “Can you imagine if it was Shark Week?”

  “Oh, he’d be livid,” Layla said. “I mean, who’s into sharks anyway?”

  “I know, right?”

  My phone dinged from my nightstand—a text message.

  I reached over and picked it up.

  Caspar, what the hell?

  The text from Philip could only mean one thing. News of the healing service had gotten out.

  I responded with an action-based text, demarcated by the inclusion of dual asterisks:

  *shrugs*

  He sent a link.

  The event had made the news.

  Not just in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch or one of the local television stations. This was a national news site.

  The headline: Dozens Healed and Cured: Miracle or Fraud?

  “Well, shit,” I said.

  “What is it?” Layla asked.

  I showed her my phone. Layla shrugged. “People were bound to find out.”

  “Yeah, but the national news?”

  Layla smiled. “You’re shocked that people are skeptical?”

  “Not at all,” I said. “I mean, they crucified Jesus. Not saying I’m Jesus.”

  My phone buzzed again.

  Already got a call from the AB.

  He was talking about Dr. Schmidt, the archbishop of our denomination. That was what “AB” was short for. No, he wasn’t a medical doctor; Schmidt had a D.Min, which stood for “Doctor of Ministry.” I always got a chuckle that when you read someone’s name followed by that particular academic credential, it wasn’t all that flattering. Schmidt: Demon. Since he represented the hyper-conservative right-wing of the denomination, those like my former hard-nosed bishop, I wasn’t entirely certain if in this instance, the label didn’t fit.

  And?

  Have a second to talk?

  I sent a thumbs-up emoji in response.

  I was exhausted after, you know, traveling between worlds, being possessed by a fairy, and saving another planet. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with church politics, but I also knew that if I didn’t talk to Philip now, I’d be tossing and turning, wondering what his conversation with Dr. Schmidt had involved.

  I went out to the living room and sat down on the couch. Then I stood up again.

  I can’t ever sit down when I’m on the phone. I’m a pacer.

  D.C. Talk’s Jesus Freak sounded from my pocket. That was Philip.

  I picked up the phone.

  “Hey, Phil.”

  “Caspar,” Philip said. “Please tell me this is fake news.”

  “Nope,” I said. “All of that happened pretty much the way the article described it.”

  “It’s not the healings Schmidt is concerned about it. It’s that you confirmed the validity of a Muslim family’s beliefs.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course, that would be the issue. They had a kid with leukemia, Philip. Arguing with them about the identity of God wasn’t the point.”

  “But you used our church to deceive them.”

  “I didn’t deceive anyone,” I said. “Their kid is cancer-free, is he not?”

  “According to the article.”

  “That’s what it says. The doctors said their boy had no trace of cancer. Isn’t that what’s important?”

  “Just between us,” Philip said, “are you claiming you healed those people?”

  I shrugged. “Does it matter? Schmidt is going to want my head either way.”

  “Not necessarily,” Philip said. “At least, not yet.”

  I huffed. “Not yet?”

  “It wouldn’t be great press for the denomination to excommunicate a minister in the wake of healing a bunch of children. I mean, can you imagine what the media would say?”

  I laughed. “So, let me get this straight. Schmidt believes, like Matthias did, that I’m a heretic?”

  “He does,” Philip said.

  “But he won’t do anything about it because it might be a bad PR move?” I asked.

  “Exactly,” Philip said.

  “That’s priceless,” I said. “These guys, they pretend to be God’s knights defending pure doctrine, but they cower in the light of what might be bad press?”

  “You know as well as I do that our denomination is shrinking,” Philip said. “At the rate of more than two percent every year.”

  I snorted. “So, you’re telling me the president who said when he was elected that what was required was a bold confession, not pragmatically inspired compromise, is now bowing to pragmatism?”

  “Well, if I were you, I wouldn’t point that out to him,” Philip said. “Not to mention, even if he’s on your side, albeit with mixed motives, you still have to survive the voters of your congregation.”

  “I’m still hoping they’ll volunteer at the soup kitchen.”

  “Might be too little, too late, Caspar.”

  I shrugged. “If it is, it is, but I’m not going to apologize for healing people’s children. I didn’t deceive anyone. You saw the article. So far, several physicians have confirmed the results.”

  “Just be careful,” Philip said. “Schmidt has his eyes on you. When the news cycle turns over, if he has a good reason, he’ll act. He believes you healed those people using a demon.”

  I laughed. “I wouldn’t be the first one to be accused of that.”

  “I know,” Philip said. “They accused Jesus of the same.”

  “Again, I’m no Jesus.”

  “I know you aren’t, Caspar. But for whatever reason, you have been given a gift. I’ll do what I can to help, but I wanted you to know this is over my head now.”

  “Don’t sacrifice your career for my sake,” I said. “Even if they blackball me again, you can still do some good. I don’t want to bring you down with me.”

  “I appreciate that,” Philip said. “But I have a conscience, and if I let them come after you with false accusations and I said nothing in your defense? I don’t know if I could live with that.”

  “Just don’t do it for my sake.”

  “I won’t,” Philip said. “But this is bigger than you. It has to do with the whole ethos of our church. How can we survive if we continue addressing any sort of dissent by silencing people? What are we saying about how secure we are in our beliefs if a difference of opinion is such a threat that we can’t tolerate listening to it or considering it?”

  After a few more minutes of conversation, I shut off the phone and set it next to the bed.

  “Layla?” I asked.

  I leaned over. She was breathing heavily. She’d fallen asleep.

  “Hey, Agnus!” I said. “Going to sleep now.”

  “Sure it’s safe for me to come in?” Agnus asked.

  “I promise,” I said.

  A few seconds later, I saw the doorknob turn. He’d figured out how to reach up, grip it with both paws, and swing his body until it opened.

  Clever cat.

  Then he came waddling through the doorway before leaping on the bed and taking his place between us.

  “Goodnight, buddy,” I said.

  “Yeah, night, Casp.”

  It took me a while to fall asleep. So much had happened. If we hadn’t had to leave so soon, I could have talked to Brag’mok. He’d said the sixth seal had been broken. Somehow, it seemed, my recharging New Albion with the Ring of Power was tied to that, but I still didn’t know what the new section of the prophecy said. It was too late now to find out. Was there anything more to it than that? We might be able to find
out eventually if Brag’mok outlasted the elves.

  I rolled over and took a deep breath. I had to clear my mind. My body was exhausted, but my mind was still churning. The sixth seal of the prophecy. All the bullshit going on with the church and the archbishop. I put my arm around Layla, and she spooned into me.

  Her touch was comforting. Quieting.

  I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  “What the hell!” I said, sitting up. If it was some frickin’ fairy screwing with us after all we’d been through, after all the fairies had put us through and then saved us from… After saving a whole planet, you’d think a guy deserved a little sleep.

  Bang! Bang!

  “Just go see who it is,” Agnus said, rolling over between my legs and Layla’s. “I’m trying to get my beauty sleep here.”

  Layla rubbed her eyes and looked at me. “Never know. Could be important.”

  I groaned as I rolled over and retrieved my phone from my nightstand. It was nine p.m. It felt like three in the morning.

  I stumbled out of bed and threw on a t-shirt and sweatpants. I doubted whoever it was wanted to be greeted at the door by me in a pair of Star Wars boxer shorts that said Dark Side across the ass. I’d had them for years. It was one of those pairs that never seemed to wear out.

  As proud as I was of them, only a select few people got to see me in them. My mysterious evening door knocker wasn’t one of them.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  “Just a second!” I shouted. I flipped on the light switch, squinting as my eyes adjusted to the brightness.

  I checked the peephole at the door.

  What the hell was Jag doing at my house?

  I sighed. Probably a late-night training tactic.

  I opened the door.

  “Dude, what are you doing here? We were all asleep.”

  Jag looked at me dumbly. “It’s nine o’clock, Caspar. Don’t be a pussy.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve had a crazy last twenty-four hours, and being a pussy had nothing to do with it.”

  Jag nodded. “I need to talk to you. Can I come in for a minute?”