by Ben Meeks
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, getting up from the table.
We all stood up and made our way to the door, except for Hambone who remained in his seat.
“Well, wasn’t that an exciting meeting,” he said. “It sure is nice to have the elves cooperating again. I’m just so happy that I got to meet you, Harlan, it was a pleasure. Obie, could I bother you for just a minute, please?”
The others left and I sat back down. This better not be about dust again. “What’s up?”
“Snack table aside, I’m really not happy about this,” he said.
I listened to Hambone complain for a good fifteen minutes before I could make it out. When I finally did, I found Harlan sitting at the bar alone. Hank and Cearbhall were at a table close by.
I walked up to the table. “I need to get Harlan back to the Queen. You coming?” I asked.
“I’m going to hang out here tonight. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow,” Cearbhall said.
“Suit yourself. I’ll see you on the bridge,” I said.
I turned to see Harlan walking over from the bar. I motioned toward the door with my head and we crossed into the changing room. Harlan grabbed his hat and I assumed a more suitable appearance for the outside world before leaving. We got back into the truck.
“Where to?” I said, cranking it up.
“Any chance you’ll let me go?” he asked. “I’ll just disappear. You can say I got away from you.”
“If you want to disappear in two days, then great. I need the Queen’s help tomorrow and the only way I get it is if I take you back. I know you’re in a bad spot but there’s nothing I can do. If I let you go, she will blame me. She’s not the most forgiving person,” I said.
“I understand. Let’s get it over with,” he said.
I followed his directions to a place deep inside the Elvin Nation. Turn after turn of backroads, winding through dense woods. Finally, we pulled up to a couple RVs with the Queen’s SUV and escort truck parked beside them. The Queen was sitting at a picnic table with a grill set up beside it. Her guard patrolled the area, on the lookout for any threat. The scene looked like a normal campsite except with armed guards around the perimeter. I parked beside the Queen’s SUV. Harlan and I got out and went to the table where the Queen was sitting.
“Delivered, as promised,” I said.
“Have a seat,” she said. “We have one more order of business.”
“Okay, what’s going on?” I asked, sitting at the table beside her, hoping she was going to say she found a soul stone.
“Harlan told me you healed his ears earlier today. It wasn’t your place to intervene in my affairs,” she said.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped, Your Highness. I only saw someone in pain that I could help. There wasn’t anything malicious in it. Is this going to cause a problem for our plans tomorrow night?” I asked.
“I’ll honor our agreement but I need you to know where the lines are. If you are aware of a situation with my family, especially one that would disgrace my house, I expect that you will bring it to my attention. I also expect that you would consider my wishes before getting involved,” she said.
“I understand,” I said.
“Good, then there’s just one more thing. Take him,” she said to the guards. Two of them stepped forward and grabbed Harlan by the arms. “Would you like a snack or some refreshment? I can have my boy make you something.”
“What are you doing?” I asked as they dragged him over to the back of the RV.
His arms were tied to a ladder on the back. The head of her security force, Harlan’s sister Patsy, looked back at their mother for confirmation. The Queen nodded. Patsy pulled out a pair of scissors and cut Harlan’s hair. When he was as close to bald as she could get, she cut off his shirt.
“Harlan is being punished for his transgression,” the Queen replied.
Patsy retrieved a coiled leather whip from the truck and took position behind him. Harlan kept his eyes straight ahead and his body still, as if he knew what was coming. Patsy again looked over at us.
“Ten,” the Queen said.
Patsy released the whip and gave it a wiggle, unfurling it out onto the ground behind her. From the way she took a ready stance and gave her arm a few shakes to loosen it up, it was clear she had no intention of going easy on him. I wonder if that was ordered from the Queen or if she decided to do as much damage as she could—neither would surprise me. She drove the whip forward into his back. It made a ripping sound that reminded me of a zipper as it came into contact, tearing his skin with a splash of blood. Harlan was silent other than a sharp gasp. I wasn’t as composed. Having lived through the tail end of slavery and the following years of Jim Crow, I’ve seen a few lashings and lynchings. I’ve never cared for either. Something was different about this from the other lashings I had seen, there was too much blood. That when I spotted the glimmer of metal on the end of the whip. Small pieces, barely sticking out at all but enough to add a bite that did some real damage. I put my hands on the table and pushed up to stand, not really sure what I was going to do, just knowing something had to be done. Before I was halfway out of my seat, the guards had guns drawn and pointed in my direction. I froze in place.
“Obie, you aren’t planning on interfering with my family business, are you? I thought we had an understanding,” the Queen said.
“We do, I still have some things to do tonight and I’ve seen floggings before. Thought I would head out,” I said.
“I would prefer you stay,” she said. “We have more business to discuss once this is done.”
For the first time I thought maybe my plan wasn’t such a good idea. The only thing keeping me from stopping this was that I was sticking to an idea that I needed the elves. There had to be another option. The Tortured Occult had guns, just not as big, but they aren’t nearly as good with them.
“Obie?” the Queen questioned.
I lowered myself slowly back to my seat. Patsy struck him again and again. By the fourth, his legs were giving out and he could no longer stifle the sounds of his pain. By ten, he hung limply from his wrists, quiet and bloody, his back shredded. Patsy wound the whip and placed it on the table in front of me, the lamp light reflected in the blood covering its end.
I wasn’t going to give the Queen the pleasure of knowing how much this bothered me. “What’s the other business you mentioned?” I said.
The Queen motioned to one of her guards, who placed a plain wooden box in the center of the whip.
“If you take this then I will hold you to our agreement. You come when I call and do what you’re asked,” she said. “And if hostilities should erupt you will help us.”
I opened the box to see what looked to be a baseball-sized diamond. It was perfectly clear but had no sparkle. It felt empty, as if it had its own gravity trying to pull me in. I closed the box and considered my options. I didn’t want to be indebted to the Queen, especially considering the demonstration I just witnessed, but this was my only option if I wanted to get Naylet back. If there was a chance, I had to try it.
“It’s a deal. What’s going to happen to him?” I said, nodding to Harlan’s limp form suspended from the RV.
“He will represent the Elvin Nation at your meetings as promised. We can discuss any final details later. I know you have a lot to do to get ready for tomorrow night, and I would hate to keep you,” she said.
I smiled and nodded. I wasn’t going to ask about healing Harlan. She wouldn’t go for it and might actually make things worse for him. I took the box, getting a little blood on my hand as I did, and headed for the truck. I wiped it on my shirt as I got in. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. As I pulled out, the headlights illuminated Harlan, his blood and pain. He was still hanging there when I pulled away and they didn’t seem to be in any hurry to help him.
C H A P T E R • 25
If I was being honest with myself, Petra could probably kill Cearbhall and me at the same time on an even playing field. The poison tipped
the scales in her favor and she knew it. I promised no weapons, but that didn’t mean I had to fight fair. Walasi was right; I could get the advantage back by fighting her my way, on my terms, and taking advantage of Livy’s alchemical skills. If everything went according to plan, the demon would be dead and Naylet would be back to normal in a few days.
I pulled into Northside Cherokee Hospital, found a parking spot, and picked up a passing shuttle to the front entrance. Inside I found the receptionist playing with her cell phone behind the desk.
When she saw me approaching she put it down and smiled. “Can I help you sir?”
“Hi, could you tell me if Rebecca Lin is working tonight,” I said.
She typed away on the keys of an undisclosed keyboard behind the counter. “Is she expecting you?”
“No, I’m an old friend, just stopping by. It’s really important,” I said.
“What’s your name?” she asked, picking up the phone.
“Obie.”
“Have a seat,” she said, stabbing the keypad with a pin. “I’ll page her.”
I found a large cushy couch by an enormous window in the corner to wait. Putting my feet up on the table, I leaned back and rubbed my eyes.
I was suddenly aware of a presence to my left. I knew it was Thera before she spoke. “Holt is awake.”
“I guess Livy’s antivenom works then. That’s good news.”
She sat beside me on the white upholstery, grass and wildflowers cascading down to the floor.
“Have you decided if you can work with him?”
“Haven’t really had time to think about it. I’ve been too busy trying to keep you from killing everyone,” I said. “What happens if I can’t? Can you make him human again?”
“Once the link is established it can’t be undone, but it can be broken,” she said.
“And breaking it would kill him wouldn’t it?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “I don’t want him to die but I don’t want things to be the same either.”
“Things never stay the same for long. Tell me and I will cut the link. Then you will pick someone new to take his place,” she said.
“I pick? I thought you did the picking,” I said.
“No, Obie, you choose who you want to work with, just like Cearbhall chose you and Cedric chose Holt,” she said.
“Wait, Cearbhall chose me?” How have I gone this long without knowing Thera didn’t choose new Keepers? “I thought he resented me.”
“He always had positive things to say,” she said.
I had spent my roughly two hundred years working with Cearbhall thinking I was a burden. It put all the times he tortured me in a new light. He wasn’t trying to make me fail but pushing me to be my best. It changed everything I thought I knew. I searched myself, trying to make sense of our relationship. The times he was hard on me and what seemed to me now to be my childish responses.
“I can work with him,” I said. “If Cedric chose him then there must be more to him than I am seeing.”
“As opposed to if I chose him?” she questioned.
“Let’s be honest, you don’t really get people,” I said.
She changed the subject instead of arguing. “I know why you’re here. You’re wasting time.”
“No, I’m waiting. There’s a difference,” I said. “Besides, this is important.”
She leaned back in the couch in feigned relaxation. “You’ve made progress then?”
“It ends tonight,” I said.
“And the grimoire?”
“Will be recovered,” I said. “The situation is under control. Even if Cearbhall and I die tonight, the demon wants Naylet. Walasi is watching her. If the demon shows up there, she will be killed for sure. It’s a solid plan. I’ve seen how important the demon’s victims are to it.”
“You sound confident,” she said.
“I am, this will work. By this time tomorrow things are going to be back to normal. I hope this means you have changed your mind about the whole mass destruction thing?”
“Do you talk to yourself a lot?” Rebecca had walked up without me seeing her.
Rebecca Lin was a surgeon I helped a couple of years ago. She was short, even by Chinese standards, and couldn’t have weighed more than a buck ten soaking wet. She wore her white coat over jeans and a nice blouse rather than her usual blue scrubs. Bright white shoes that looked brand new finished the ensemble.
I stood up and gave her a hug. “I am an excellent conversationalist.” Spotting the new title on her name tag, I said, “Administrator . . . you got a promotion?”
I looked back to the couch to find Thera had vanished.
“Obie, what are you doing here?” she asked, obviously not feeling like small talk.
Right to the point then. “I need a favor. A woman was brought in yesterday, she was attacked in her apartment. Candice Heck.”
“Yes, she’s upstairs, that poor woman. You wouldn’t believe what some sick bastard did to her,” she said.
“I’d believe it. I’m the one that found her,” I said.
“So what do you want with her then?” she asked.
I smiled. “Just to help. You know me, always lending a helping hand.”
She looked over her shoulder as if she was afraid someone was watching. “Help her the way you helped me?”
I nodded. “I just need a couple minutes.”
“You could have done that at her apartment. Why wait until she’s here?”
“She had a fire poker shoved in her head,” I said, making a jabbing motion with my finger under my jaw. “I’m good at a lot of things, but removing giant hooks from someone’s face isn’t one of them.”
She crossed her arms and put a hand over her mouth. “I don’t know, she just got out of surgery an hour ago, they wired her jaw shut and have experts coming in in the morning. How would I explain it?”
“You don’t have to, miracles happen every day. Two minutes, please.”
She groaned with frustration. “Come on. We’ll go the back way, but this better not come back on me.”
She took me up a stairwell and through a few hallways before we came to the room. Inside Candice was lying with her head bandaged—everything except her right eye, which was closed.
“I don’t think she’s woken up yet,” Rebecca said.
I gave the machines she was connected to a once over. I didn’t know what anything on the screens meant except for the steady beep of the heart rate monitor. “Do you want to wait outside?”
She closed the door. “I think I’ll stay. I’m curious how you do it.”
I placed a hand over Candice’s head and concentrated. The room took on a blue hue from my eyes and hands as the energy began to flow.
“Jesus, your eyes. I didn’t see that last time. Do they always glow like that?”
“Only when I’m working,” I said without looking up.
Rebecca stepped up to the bed. “That’s it? I thought there would be more chanting and arm waving.”
“You watch too much TV.”
Candice began to moan and shift around in her bed as the healing took hold. The beeping of her heartrate monitor sped up with the little line on the screen bouncing around like a game of Pong on steroids.
Rebecca reached out a hand to intervene but stopped just before she touched me. “Obie, her heart, you need to stop.”
I could feel the energy pouring into her, swirling and pulsing. I could feel some resistance coming from her stomach, maybe some kind of cancer, couldn’t be sure. Might as well take care of that since I was already warmed up. I focused on the obstruction and it melted away in a matter of a few seconds. I could tell when she was healed because instead of going in, the energy flowed over her like water spilling out of a cup—she was full. I took my hand back and her heart went from racing to normal in an instant. Rebecca looked at the monitor, giving it a tap to figure out if it was malfunctioning. Candice opened her unbandaged eye
and looked around.
“Candice, you’re in the hospital. Don’t try to speak, your jaw was wired shut,” Rebecca said, leaning over her bed.
“You’re safe now. Try to take it easy. It will take them a few days to figure out you’ve been healed, remove the wires, and let you go,” I said, resting a hand on the side if the bed. “Oh, and I took care of that stomach issue, too.”
Candice nodded, tears welling up in her eye. When Rebecca stepped back Candice saw me and reached out to hold the hand I had on the railing of the bed. She raised the other hand and made a scribbling gesture in the air. Rebecca got a pad and pen and handed it to her. She wrote one word and turned the pad over for me to see. Angel? it said. I took the letter she had written Steve with her rings in it and placed it her hand. Rebecca was still busy when I left. I wanted to get out discreetly. I was barely out of the room when I heard Rebecca calling after me. She caught up to me just as I opened the door to the stairwell.
“Obie, wait. Listen, I was thinking maybe you could take a look at a couple other people while you’re here,” she said.
I was afraid of this. “I can’t, sorry.”
She crossed her arms. “You can’t or you won’t?”
“I won’t.”
“You could help so many people with your gift and you just won’t? I thought you were better than that,” she said.
“We all make mistakes,” I said, starting down the stairs.
“At least tell me why,” she said.
“One is a miracle. Any more than that and people dig for an explanation, and they won’t let it go until they find one. They will find the surveillance video of us and they will come asking questions we can’t answer. Maybe they give up eventually or maybe word gets out that I’m some kind of faith healer. People will come from far and wide looking for their own miracle and then I won’t be able to do my job. See, healing people isn’t why I’m here, it’s just a bonus I get to help some people sometimes. I wish I could do more but it’s not possible,” I said. “If you know someone that needs help and they aren’t admitted in a hospital or have extensive medical records give me a call.”
She didn’t say anything but stood there processing. After a few seconds without a response, I headed for the truck.