by Tom Keller
No, these Feds are a different sort. These were half-Demons, or at least most of them were, from what I'd been told. Their job was to monitor activity between the Fae and human worlds and to stop anything that threatened the country or government, as well as to make sure that the public never found out we existed. Call it a kind of magical Homeland Security. There was even another branch that coordinated the collection of taxes for Fae money that entered the system. That one, naturally, had already contacted me. But I had an attorney and accountants to handle that. It's not that they worried me that much, it was just that it hadn’t made it to the top of my to-do list yet.
"You know they like to make an entrance and they'll want to know exactly what you are… and what you're made of. To quote from one of your favorite TV shows, they'll come at you sideways. You'd better be ready to play hardball."
"I got it," I replied. "But what can I say? It's not like I haven’t had a full plate. Ever since that night in the parking lot with the Mages it's been a whirlwind. First the shootout, then the fight with the Werewolves, and let me think, what else? Oh, yeah, battles with the dark Fae and her Mages. A trip to the river Styx. Fights with Demons and then there was that Dragon. Hey, I can’t remember Dragons being on my watch list when I was still a cop. Let me take that back. This is Vegas, after all. But you get my point."
"Yeah, I do," he said with a laugh.
"All I really want is a return to some form of normalcy but I doubt that's going to happen. I'm just about ready to tell everyone to kiss my ass and go on vacation," I continued.
"Except you won’t do that," he said.
"No, I won’t," I agreed. "She wouldn't want me to." She being my grandmother. It was a long story but suffice it to say that she had traded her life as a Fae, as well as her immortality, so that I could live. I wasn't about to let that sacrifice be in vain. No, I was stuck with being King of the Faeries, at least those from my part of the woodland realm anyway, and I'd do my best at it.
"No, she wouldn't," he replied. "Hey, have you talked to your kids lately?"
"My kids?" I asked, suddenly uncomfortable. He knew they didn’t know what I was. "What about them?"
"You haven't talked to either of them?"
"No?" I replied. "Is everything ok?"
"Oh, yeah, they're fine, as far as I know," he replied. "But Nikki probably saved someone's life yesterday. She saw someone lying in a garden from the top of a ladder. He'd been shot by a stray round during an earlier drive-by. Innocent bystander as it turns out."
"Really?" I said. "I didn’t hear about it. Usually she calls me when something big happens."
"Well it gets better."
"What?" I asked, not liking the way this was going. Don’t get me wrong. It was great to hear they had done something good. But that wasn't what I was thinking about. I talked to both of them at least a couple times a week. This was something she would have wanted to share. Why hadn't she called?
"Turns out Jay saved someone's life as well."
I just stared at my coffee cup and didn't reply.
"Yeah," O'Malley continued. "Apparently, he sees a flash in an attic and knocks a SWAT guy to the ground just before the rounds land right where he was standing. Quite a coincidence, wouldn’t you agree?"
"Yeah, it is," I granted. "Anything else out of the ordinary on either of the situations?" Meaning if there was any hint of magic involved.
"Not that I've heard. But I got it second hand," he replied before leaning closer towards me. "You need to tell them, Robert… and soon."
"I know," was all I could say in reply.
"Well, I've got some more bad news for you, my friend," he said as he started to get up from the table.
"What's that," I asked, wondering what else he was going to drop on me.
"It's your turn to buy," he replied with a grin.
"That I can handle," I said with a sigh of relief as I put some money on the table.
"I'll keep my ears open," Ray said.
"Thanks," I replied.
We both got up and headed for the parking lot. Ray had a meeting and I had a few things to think about before I headed downtown to check on things at the office.
****
As I pulled up to the house, I saw that Charlie was already waiting for me at the gate. How does he do that? I wondered as I pulled my car into the driveway. Charlie was my dog. Weighing in at about 185 pounds, he's part Great Dane and part, well, let's just say he's part something else.
As I opened the door he was halfway in and turning his big head to face me before I could even get the seatbelt unbuckled.
"What the hell, Charlie?" I asked, trying to push him back so I could get out.
"Faeries are upset. They have found something."
Oh, yeah, he can talk, too.
"What did they find?" I asked as he jumped down. I got out of the car and followed him around the house into the backyard. The conversation from earlier was forgotten, at least for the moment.
"They said it was an Imp," he answered.
"An Imp?" I started to say. I never finished because as soon as I stepped out onto the back patio I was assailed by no less than five small Faeries. They buzzed my head and were talking all at once and so fast that all I could hear was chattering.
"Guys, guys, slow down! I can't understand a word y'all are saying."
The Faeries suddenly stopped their buzzing and one flew directly in front of my face. Stopping a few inches from my nose, she shook her finger at me and jutted her chest out, pointing to her breasts.
"Yes, yes, Fiora, I know. Please accept my apology. I know you're not a guy. It's just a figure of speech," I said in reply.
That's the problem with Garden Faeries. They're not usually that literal. As a general rule they don’t say too much. The truth is, they almost never say anything unless I talk to them first. Usually they just flit about tending to the plants and trees. Oh sure, they nod and wink to let me know that they're around. They're temperamental, too. Especially when it comes to their plants. And when they get excited, well, let's just say that it can get interesting.
Although I probably don’t need to mention the obvious, most of them are female, as I was just sternly reminded. Although to be truthful, it's kind of hard to miss, since they don’t wear any clothes. As to Fiora, she was quite the beauty as well, especially with that streak of purple that made her dark hair stand out. It's just that since I see them all the time it's easier to think of them as human, which they definitely are not. Sometimes I forget that you can't talk to them as if they were. But then again, I've got a talking dog and cat and they don’t exactly think like humans either. Why should Garden Faeries be any different?
My explanation seemed to appease her as she nodded graciously and then blushed, suddenly remembering who she was talking to. Oh, yeah, I may have forgotten to mention that Garden Faeries are part of the Dryad realms and that made me, for lack of a better term, their King.
"So," I asked. "What have you found?"
"A spy," said one.
"Yes, a spy" said another.
"A spy. We found a spy," they all repeated until Fiora raised her arm and the rest finally fell quiet.
"My Lord," she began. "While tending to your neighbor's garden we found an Imp hiding behind the stone fence. We believe he was trying to gain access to your domain, so we captured him." She seemed quite proud of herself, but then again, I guess she should be. Garden Faeries weren't exactly known to be subtle to trespassers. Sure, they looked all cute and cuddly, but they could be nasty when provoked, as could any Fae.
"Well done," I said, knowing that I had to congratulate them before asking the obvious. "And where is this spy now?"
"Still where we found him," Fiora answered. "Bound in silk so he cannot get away."
"That was wise," I said, knowing that they would never have brought him into the yard without permission. Besides, I had wards protecting the place that even the Elves couldn't get through unless granted entry.
Whatever he was, he wasn't a threat as long as he was outside the yard. Of course I had to get him here to see who they had captured and what he was up to. Unfortunately, I couldn’t just knock on the neighbor's door and ask to retrieve the little man my Garden Faeries caught in her backyard. Mrs. Shaughnessy was appreciative as all hell when I gave her a bag of 'special fertilizer' for her garden but she'd never believe it was really Faeries that made her vegetables grow so large and sweet. More likely it'd give her a heart attack. No, that would never do.
"Do you think you can bring him to me?" I asked.
"Oh, yes," she replied. "We can carry him."
"Yes, yes, we can carry him," they all started to say.
"Ok, then. Show me what you've caught." I said. Then, I turned to Charlie and whispered. "Make sure whatever it is doesn't try to get away."
He just wagged his tail and followed the Faeries to the wall where he stopped as they dropped down on the other side.
A moment later the Faeries were back in sight. I could see that each Faerie held a rope of what looked like spider's silk, with the struggling package dangling below. It was their captive, wrapped up tight. Charlie followed them as they flew back to me with their prize and dropped it, not too gently I might add, on the grass in front of me. The bag writhed as it landed and I could hear what had to be moaning and angry yelling coming from inside.
"So let's just see what we have here, shall we?" I said as I picked it up and began to remove the sticky silk from what I hoped was its head.
He was indeed some kind of Imp, or perhaps a Brownie. He was also bright red, or at least his face was, but I wasn't sure if that was his natural color or if he was just angry. And he was ugly as well, not the Fae type I usually ran into. As I finally pulled the last piece of sticky silk off of his mouth, his yells and curses became clear.
"Feckin' Faeries," he screamed as he tried to shake the rest of the silk off of his face. "Let me go you wasters. If you've damaged my wings…" He shook and struggled for a bit before finally settling his eyes on me. "Unhand me you oaf," he continued. "Let me go before I sour your beer and spoil your milk! I'll turn you …."
"Sour my beer? That’s disconcerting," I commented as the Imp coughed and then sputtered some more incomprehensible words before spitting out more silk. He continued spouting out expletives as I held him, his face getting redder by the minute. Charlie took that moment to walk up and sniff at him. The sight of the huge dog's head finally got his attention.
"Get that beast away from me!" he yelled as Charlie started to growl.
His tail was wagging so I knew he was just playing, but it had gotten the Imp's attention.
"Is he tasty?" the big dog turned to me and asked.
"Hmm. Doesn't look like more than a bite, or two, at best," I answered.
"Tasty, tasty!" the Garden Faeries suddenly chimed in. "He'd make a good bite!"
"Now, now, let's not be hasty," the Imp shouted, his anger replaced by fear. "I was just startled. Yes, that's it! That and the sunlight. You startled me. Joking I was, just joking!"
"A joke was it?" I replied. "But really? Sour my beer?" I took that moment to reach out with a little magic. I couldn't sense any evil about him, at least not directed at me. I did sense fear, which was to be expected. Except he wasn't afraid for himself. No, it was for someone else. Now that was interesting. Still, I had to play along for a little bit.
"As I said, I was startled," he continued.
"I'm sure you were," I agreed. "Now, perhaps you could explain what you were doing in Mrs. Shaughnessy's yard?"
"Ah, yes," the Imp said, his accent changing. "Rather a long story I'm afraid. I'm sure it would just bore you. Now, if you could see your way to letting me go, I'll be off. Places to go, things to do, as it were." He began to struggle again but there was no way out of the woven silk bag he'd been bound in.
"I'm sure you'd like that. But I think not," I replied. "Now, let's start over. Who are you and what are you doing here?"
"Just let me go. I have important things to do!" he shouted.
"Just answer the questions."
We bantered about for a minute before he finally relented.
"You're not going to free me, are you?" he asked, stating the obvious.
"No," I replied. "And I'm getting tired of your bullshit. Now, either tell me what you're up to or I turn you over to the Garden Faeries. Your choice."
"He's going to be so angry with me," the Imp admitted with a sigh.
"Who's going to be so angry with you?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
"Bernd, who else?" he said after a moment. "I seek Bernd of the Svartálfar. I was to meet him here two days ago but he did not seek me out. Now, will you please let me go?"
Bernd? I hadn’t expected that as a response. Bernd was a Dwarf. He'd been my mentor as well as my grandmother's but I hadn’t seen him in a week. He'd left after I'd freed the Lilin. Off to see what the result would be he'd said. I suddenly remembered that the Imp had been afraid for someone. Could it be Bernd?
"Ugh, just a friend of the Dwarf," Fiora said with a look of disgust. Then, as if he was of no longer of interest to her she waved to the others and they flew away, leaving Charlie and me alone with him. Garden Faeries, go figure.
"Why are you looking for Bernd?" I asked, now somewhat concerned, but still cautious. "For that matter, why should I believe you? You were sneaking about, after all."
"Oh for the love of…" he sputtered. "Faeries!" Then he struggled for a moment before continuing. "Fine! He told me to tell you that you have your grandmother's eyes. Satisfied? Now get me the hell out of this feckin' ball of crap!"
My grandmother's eyes? Only other Fae had made that comment and all of them had known Bernd. Since I had felt no malice towards me, I decided to trust him, at least for the moment. It's not like he could leave. No, the wards were attuned to me and nothing could get in or out unless I let them. Just to be cautious, I told Charlie to go find Lucinda. Lucinda was my cat and basically my liaison with the Dwarf. She'd know if he was an associate of Bernd. At least I hoped she would.
He was struggling against the silk again and I had to laugh at his expression when I pulled out my pocket knife. Then, with his eyes watching every movement of the blade, I began to cut through the silk. When it was off, he jumped up and began pulling the left over silk from his body. I looked him over. He was small, no taller than a foot or so. His body was red, as was his face, albeit a lighter shade. He was dressed only in a pair of mottled brown pants that were cut just below the knees. His wings were bat like, unlike the other Faeries, and he turned to watch as they unfurled from his body.
"Now, do you want to tell me what's ..." I started to say before he began bawling again.
"What did I just say? Just look at that wing," he yelled, pointing back at the tip of one. "Bent! I knew that would happen! Bloody Faeries. Couldn’t just ask nicely. Oh, no! Had to tie me up right proper, didn’t they? Just fabulous! I'll be flying in circles for a week."
I let him go on like that for a minute or so before I cleared my throat to get his attention.
"If you're done, do you mind telling me who you are?" I finally asked, his gaze settling back at me.
"Oh, right. Sorry about that. Just a bit excited I am," he said after brushing off more remnants of silk with his hands. He paused for a moment. "Would you have something to drink around? I'm a bit parched, I am."
"There's some beer in the fridge," I answered.
"Beer. Hmm," he replied. Then he held out his hand and pinched his thumb and forefinger together. "Would you have something just a wee bit stronger?"
"Follow me," I said as I walked back to the house and through the back door into the kitchen. I looked back to see the diminutive Imp attempting to fly straight, but the bent wing gave him a list. When he reached the door he landed and continued to follow on foot before jumping up onto one of the kitchen table chairs and then the table. I opened a cabinet, pulled out a shot glass and a bottle of M
iddleton. Glancing back, I hefted the glass.
The Imp stared at it for a moment and, once again, using his fingers, this time indicating that the glass was too small. With a laugh I pulled out a tumbler, poured out a hefty amount, then placed it in front of him. He gulped it down in one long swig and then placed the glass down on the table.
"Satisfied?" I asked before continuing. "Now, perhaps we can start with your name."
"His name is Ataulf," a voice behind me said. It was Lucinda. "And he should not be here."
"Yet here I am," he chimed in, lifting up the glass. "Ataulf, at your service. But you can call me Alf." Then he tilted it in my direction, indicating a refill.
"Alf, it is," I said, shaking my head as I refilled his glass. Maybe after a few drinks under his belt I'd be able to figure out what was going on.
"And just where else should I be?" he asked the cat. "Bernd is late. Two days late, I might add. Where would you have me go?"
"Anywhere but here," she replied, jumping on the table. "But it matters not. As you can see, Bernd is not here."
"He must be warned," the Imp continued.
"He can take care of himself," Lucinda said.
They started to argue back and forth before I jumped in to try and see what this was about.