Enchanted Ever After (Mystic Circle)

by Robin D. Owens

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I was in the back of the bus. Rain, lightning, the bus turned over. I helped out in the chaos as I could.”

  “Stupid people climbed out on the damn metal bus during a lightning storm.” Averill shook his head.

  “There was the smell of gas.”

  “Oh.”

  A small silence enveloped them as Kiri stared at them and they at her.

  “You look okay,” Shannon said doubtfully.

  “I didn’t see anyone hurt more than a scalp wound,” Kiri said. She wasn’t going to mention the smell. Not now, maybe not ever.

  Shannon sighed. “Good. That’s good. Are you sure you want to go to work?”

  “The time is running on my vacation and Eight Corp’s evaluation of me for the game—my career.” She looked around her empty house. “What the hell would I do here?” There were only so many minutes she could stare at the koi pond.

  “You could drive to the mountains and look at the turning aspen,” Shannon offered.

  Averill snorted, nudged his wife. “Hello, dying leaves? Coming winter. Depression, anyone?”

  Shannon winced. “Oh. I didn’t think of that.”

  “Best if Kiri stays busy, and with something new to distract her,” Averill said.

  “Um, how are you getting to work?” Shannon asked.

  “Not driving.” Not that she ever went the way of the bus route. She cleared her throat. “Jenni Emberdrake and Eight Corp will be having a driver take me to and from.”

  “Good,” Averill said. He stood and came over to Kiri, pulled her up and rocked her in a hug, kissed her cheek. “We’re here for you if you need us.”

  Shannon joined the hugfest, warming Kiri when she hadn’t known she was cold. “Thanks a lot, I love you two.” Since she was shorter than them both, her voice was muffled against Averill’s chest.

  “Okay, that’s settled.” Shannon stepped away, swooped up the take-out boxes and the paper plates and dumped them in the trash, quickly washed the plasticware and put it in the dish drainer. “Call us if you need us.”

  “I will.”

  “Now we’ve gotta get to work,” Averill said, bussed a kiss on Kiri’s temple. “Later.” He aimed forefingers at her. “In fact, Sunday, dim sum. Be there at ten-thirty.”

  Kiri nodded.

  They left on the swirl of a cold autumn breeze.

  She sighed as the quiet formed around her again. It had been really good to see her friends. Glancing at the clock, she noticed they hadn’t given her too much time to brood before the driver came.

  She’d eaten a good breakfast—in her bathrobe. Now she dressed in nice jeans and a winter-weight cotton-blend shirt that should be okay with any sweat. Checking the weather on TV, she tensed when the freak rainstorm of the day before and the bus accident and casualties were mentioned, then listened only as far as “sunny weather, in the upper sixties, no rain at all, humidity thirty-four percent.”

  Kiri got out her computer tablet, and did some freewriting of her feelings, a technique Shannon had taught her to let go of stuff. It usually worked. When she’d drained out some of the grief and fears, she moved on to typing in more notes about the game Transformation as she waited for the car to take her to work.

  She wanted to talk to Lathyr. Okay, she just wanted to see him, maybe touch him, make sure he was all right. So when the car pulled up to her door, she hurried out and didn’t wait for the driver to come around.

  The backseat was empty. No Lathyr.

  “Ready?” asked the driver. He held the door for her.

  She sighed, but her stomach tightened a little. “Yeah.” She beamed a smile at him, tried to make it sincere. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She slid over on the soft, smooth leather and strapped in, swallowed. “We aren’t going by way of Fifteenth and Central, are we?”

  “No, Speer all the way downtown.”

  “Good.” Since he didn’t say anything more about the accident that was still heading the news, she thought he was either a huge introvert or had been told not to discuss it, probably the latter.

  Jenni and Eight Corp were very efficient, and hired very competent people.

  Kiri hoped she’d be one of them.

  She didn’t see Lathyr until she walked past a formidably scowling Mrs. Daurfin, who only grunted in response to Kiri’s “good morning,” and into the long and already boring computer room.

  “How are you doing this morning?” Jenni asked softly.

  “Pretty good,” Kiri replied.

  “You are well?” Lathyr asked. He looked a little different, and not just his casual trousers with no crease and a fisherman’s sweater, both black. Should she have worn black, for those who died? Grief cruised through her, again. She figured that was typical, so she nodded, still staring at him. Something about his skin tone or texture seemed off.

  “I’m fine. Are you okay?”

  His smile was tired. “I am well enough.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you ready for your next session? Need breakfast?” Jenni asked, a little too heartily.

  Kiri flushed. “No, I’m good.”

  “We’ve decided to give you a choice,” Jenni said, swiveling back and forth in her chair. “You can continue on with your journey to the Earth Palace in the Earth Elemental Realm, or you can choose another for today.”

  “Air?” Kiri breathed. “I could be an elf?” The day was looking up.

  Jenni and Lathyr shared a glance.

  “You would prefer that as opposed to fire or water?” Jenni asked.

  “Oh, yes!” Kiri set her old and battered tote down and hurried over to the desk and got her gloves. They looked like the shape of her hands—creepy, but she pulled them on, set the visor around her head.

  “Here we go,” Jenni said. “Countdown to the Air Realm of Transformation, three, two, one.”

  Winds whirled Kiri around and set her down on a rock surface. She was an elf! For the first time since the bus accident, her spirits lifted and her heart felt—unsmudged. She and Lathyr stood on a craggy cliff side, surrounded by stepped pillars that whistled different notes as the wind caught in the staggered holes.

  “Amazing!” she shouted. Yes, being here, in a game she had a chance of controlling, of creating, soothed her. Nothing like life where there were uncontrollable things like horrific bus accidents.

  One of the pillars had a mirror-shiny side and she admired herself. She was gorgeous, tall and slender, perfectly proportioned, with a fabulous thin face and long platinum hair. Not much breast or hip, but a lovely avatar. She touched the points of her ears and shuddered—they were so sensitive. Positively erotic.

  As she fingered her clothing, she scowled, dark blond brows angling down. “Jenni, this stuff is like, like rhino hide or something, all gray and wrinkly.”

  “It’s standard elf armor,” Lathyr said.

  “Level one armor,” Jenni replied at the same time.

  Kiri stared at Lathyr. Sure enough, his ears were pointed, like the first time she’d seen him—or as she’d first imagined him, and his face and body seemed slightly elongated—taller and thinner than regularly.

  “Are you accompanying me?” she asked.

  “No.”

  Her disappointment was stronger than she’d anticipated. Maybe it was the deep feeling that he had been at the scene of the accident, and somehow he had helped, at a cost to himself. She couldn’t shake that notion, but didn’t think either he or Jenni would speak of it.

  But this was work. This was her job. And though it was a wonderful job, if she didn’t ace the prologue tests she’d have to go back to the one she hated. “Look.” With a sweeping motion, Lathyr gestured to the panorama in front of them—hilltops and spires connected with rope-and-wood suspension bridges. Kiri gulped. Normally she didn’t have a problem with heights, but it appeared much of the Air Realm, was, in fact, walking through air.

  “Elves—people of the ai
r—don’t have wings?” Everyone in Fairies and Dragons could earn wings, in fact the whole world was based on flying.

  “No,” Lathyr said. Another graceful gesture as he pointed to a huge cumulus cloud in the distance tinted with gold and pale pink light and violet shadows. Naturally, there was a tall and turreted castle there. A castle in the clouds.

  “Let me guess, I have to get to the Air Palace and present myself to the King and Queen of Air. They’re elves?”

  He nodded.

  She rolled her shoulders. “I’ve got experience now. Maybe I’ll make it to the palace today. Nothing’s completely new.”

  “I have every faith in you,” Lathyr said. His smile was subdued.

  “Would you like to access your companion now?” Lathyr asked.

  “I get one right away?” Another delight.

  “Yes, you have proven your leadership skills with your treatment of the brownie, Tanna.”

  He rapped with his blue-green gloves on the rockface. A whoosh of air shot from the hole just above and a white-violet tiny swirl came out and moved to hover near his shoulder. “An airsprite,” Lathyr said.

  “I don’t get a brownie?” Kiri was outrageously disappointed; she’d really liked Tanna, and this airsprite didn’t look at all humanoid.

  “Airsprite,” Lathyr repeated.

  She didn’t want an airsprite. She wanted a brownie. Apparently mixing realms at this level wasn’t an option. Yet. “Great.”

  “Call me Airsprite!” said a high whistling voice as the little whirlwind moved in front of her nose, bringing rock dust too close. Kiri sneezed.

  It laughed and stretched and the wisps gathered into a rudimentary violet-white head and limbs. Like elves, it had a thin body.

  “Hey,” Kiri said.

  “Heyyy!” it squeaked, again in a high voice punctuated with a whistle. Kiri thought she might get tired of that fast.

  “Airsprite will be your guide,” Lathyr said.

  “Fine,” Kiri said. Sure didn’t look as if it would be any help in a fight.

  Lathyr took one of her limp hands and kissed the back of it, surprising her. His expression held amusement, too, but seemed to also have a little affection...maybe even a caress of attraction. Her heart gave a little bump in her chest and she turned her fingers to squeeze his, being rewarded when his smile bloomed.

  “You will do well,” he said, and she felt his confidence in her.

  With a little mental push, she sent gratitude...and affection, back to him. “Thank you.”

  With a tip of his head he vanished.

  “Off we go to the Air Palace,” Airsprite squealed.

  “Watch out for the banshees,” Jenni said.

  * * *

  “Kiri, end of the workday,” Jenni warned through the visor as Kiri had just stepped onto the thread-thin invisible bridge to the Air Palace.

  “I’m almost there!” Kiri cried.

  “All right, but Lathyr and I are needed in the small conference room to report on the project. I’ve set the server to disconnect you at the end of a half hour. If we aren’t back by then, meet us there as soon as you get done, to the left at the end of the hall. We need to discuss things with you.”

  Kiri fell off the bridge. Her levitate spell failed.

  She hit with a splat and watched all but one of her health points vanish.

  Damn, she’d have to use the last of her flying spells to get back up, but she did nothing until she heard Jenni disconnect from the program. Maybe Jenni hadn’t seen her mistake.

  Yeah, right.

  Sighing, Kiri began the spell preparations, keeping an eye out for the very nasty banshees. The airsprite whistled encouragement and Kiri hummed so she couldn’t hear it.

  * * *

  Lathyr sat straight in his chair, his face expressionless. There were only the three of them in the conference room, Aric and Jenni Emberdrake, and himself. A chair had been left for Kiri.

  Jenni had brought her handheld computer that ran on Meld and was logged on to the game to monitor Kiri’s progress.

  “How is our applicant doing?” Aric asked.

  “Really well.” Jenni grinned and her hair lifted and snapped with the static electricity of her optimism.

  Aric glanced at Lathyr, and gestured to an object on the table that Lathyr finally recognized as some sort of monitoring device, so someone or someones were listening in to this report. The dwarfem receptionist, the Lightfolk Meld staff, perhaps even a royal or two.

  “Exceedingly well,” Lathyr said smoothly, projecting his voice to the monitor. “We are conditioning her to accept her magical potential, and hoping to discover beforetime what element she might be best suited for so that we can ensure her survival during the transformation.” He reached over to the portfolio that Jenni had brought with them, glad he’d glanced at her charts, and pulled out the top one that showed Kiri’s progress. “If you will note the anticipated learning curve, in green, you will see Kiri’s development in the game.”

  Aric’s eyes widened and he gave a low whistle. “Nearly twice as good as you’d wanted.”

  “That’s right.” Jenni beamed. “She’s an ace student...not that I think she understands that.”

  “It would be good not to inform her of that,” said the voice of the Air King, Cloudsylph, from the monitor.

  Jenni hesitated, frowned, then replied, “As you wish.”

  “Earth was chosen for her as her first element?” asked the royal.

  “That’s what the program determined her best element might be.” Jenni cleared her throat. “The game is weighted to steer the applicants toward an elemental form that they might be able to master.”

  “A dwarf or brownie, then,” the Air King, Cloudsylph, said. “Or, since she seems to be a likely candidate for transformation, and she might keep her human mass, a merfem or naiad of water.”

  “Um, more than likely,” Jenni agreed. Her gaze flicked toward Lathyr. He nodded and continued the report.

  “I’ve been observing Kiri Palger during her games,” he said. “As she is playing, her mind is being affected by the Meld and magical energy in this building, I believe that she is a strong prospect to be transformed into a true magical Lightfolk being—and, most possibly, into a major Lightfolk elemental.”

  After a moment, Jenni broke the silence. “So far, she’s indicated that her wish is to be an elf.”

  Lathyr winced.

  “Is that at all possible?” asked Cloudsylph, King of the Elves.

  “Possible,” Lathyr confirmed. “Though I feel...I believe...that her mind in that particular matter doesn’t agree with her emotions or her heart...or soul.”

  “She doesn’t have the soul of an elf?” Cloudsylph sounded almost amused.

  Lathyr wasn’t so stupid as to insult the elf by stating Kiri’s emotions were warmer than most elves. “I don’t believe so.”

  “Ah,” Cloudsylph said. “Keep me informed.”

  “We will,” Jenni said. “I’m transmitting my files regarding the project to you.”

  “Thank you,” Cloudsylph said. The lights on the monitor flicked off.

  Three minutes later Lathyr and Jenni were back in the computer room, watching Kiri bob and weave in her gloves and glasses, fighting banshees—and swearing. The airsprite was whistling encouragement. Kiri was at the far end of the invisible bridge to the Air Palace.

  On one of the large monitors, they saw her take down several banshees.

  “She is doing very well as that cross between a magic user and melee fighter,” Jenni murmured. “Not as strong as a magic-less warrior.”

  “She likes the magic,” Lathyr replied, sensing it from the woman more than seeing it on the screen.

  “Indeed.”

  The last banshee succumbed with a shriek and Kiri ran swiftly and nimbly across the invisible thread bridge and rang the bell on the arched and pointed glass door, the main entrance to the Air Palace.

  A distinguished elf answered the summons. “Welco
me, Mistress Kay. The King and Queen of Air, the Sylphs of the Clouds, await you.” Bells and whistles sounded and jewels clicked into a pile at Kiri’s feet along with several scroll spells as Kiri gained two levels. First Goal Achieved in the game of Transformation! Congratulations!

  She’d done it! Pride surged through Lathyr...and, he thought, affected Kiri as he noted a small bond had formed between them.

  Chapter 14

  “CONGRATS,” JENNI SAID.

  “Thank you!” Kiri nearly sang as her hips swayed in an attractive manner. “Logging off.” Her hands moved in the closing spell, then she took off her visor and smiled at Jenni, then Lathyr. Small tendrils of hair stuck to her temples with perspiration and she seemed to glow with pleasure and excitement.

  As she peeled off her gloves, she whisked her lips with her tongue, squared her shoulders and said, “What did you need to talk to me about?”

  Jenni raised her brows and gestured to Lathyr.

  He said, “You have exceeded our expectations.”

  “Whew, good to hear.” Kiri sat suddenly in her chair, then glanced at Jenni. “I have a couple of requests.”

  “Yes?” asked Jenni, taking her seat at the end of the counter as usual.

  Lathyr decided he shouldn’t stand and stare at the beauty in front of him and took his seat next to Kiri’s empty one.

  Kiri pushed back her damp hair, her face falling into serious lines. “The way we have this set up, I’ll have only two days to master each elemental level.”

  “Two business days, that’s right,” Jenni said.

  Kiri’s body tensed and words rushed from her. “Is there any possibility that I can take the software home for the weekend...or, if I need to, come in and work at the game here?”

  Lathyr stared, but understood from Jenni’s posture that the question hadn’t surprised her.

  Jenni folded her hands. “You’re that interested?”

  Kiri nodded. “Oh, yes. The game is fun, but I’ve made some notes and I want to explore the world more.” Her voice got softer and trailed off.

  “We are not allowed to have nonemployees on the floor without supervision,” Jenni said matter-of-factly.

  Kiri’s face fell.

  Opening a hidden drawer in the counter, Jenni brought out a tablet computer with a tiny piece of hardware in one of the slots, and something that had Lathyr staring again. It looked like a truncated version of a human’s idea of a magic wand. Jenni slid the computer down the desk, using mostly magic.