by K. M. Shea
“So dwarves made Aysel’s truth spell necklace and Asahi’s tracking jewelry?” I asked, unable to keep the wryness out of my voice.
“Elves made Aysel’s truth necklace, but yes. The dwarves are responsible for the majority of Asahi’s spelled and charmed jewelry.”
“Are the dwarves being stingy, then?” I asked, looking to the paper again.
“No, their donation is nice—especially when one considers how little the MBRC aids them,” Doctor Creamintin said, folding his hands on top of his belly.
“So you think they deserve a few liaisons?”
“I do. Although I have no idea how you’re going to twist the Administrator into accepting them,” Doctor Creamintin said.
“It will be a parting gift,” I said, smiling darkly at the paper.
“So you do mean to leave then?”
I sighed and dropped the sheet. “Honestly, I don’t know. If I was staying in the area I’d consider still working here, but the Administrator is being a pill.”
“Take your time in deciding,” Doctor Creamintin advised. “Your future is not something to trifle with.”
I half smiled. “Thanks. No pressure, right?”
Doctor Creamintin chuckled. “Of course not. How are you holding up? I imagine you are under a substantial amount of pressure—even if one ignores the Administrator.”
“I’m surviving. No one has gotten too pushy yet. My parents and school advisors are getting worried, though.”
“They don’t even know the half of it,” Doctor Creamintin said, shaking your head. “You should be proud of yourself, Morgan.”
“For deceiving my parents so they think I’m working for a doctor?” I dryly asked.
“No, for taking such responsibility for your future. It is rare to find a teenager who is so aware of the consequences of his or her future education. But worry not.”
“Oh?”
“Indeed. I read a periodical that reported most adults change careers four to five times in their life. If you choose the wrong career path to start with you can merely start over—although you will quite possibly lose some of the best years of your life that way.”
“Gee, thanks, Doctor Creamintin. I feel really upbeat now,” I said, my voice wry.
Doctor Creamintin laughed. “You will choose a fine future, Morgan. Of that I am confident. Now, regarding the dwarves. What will you do? What is your next step?”
“I flashed Devin’s name to get access to records from the Fairy Council. I’ll look them over and decide what to do next. At a minimum I will get some liaisons in place. If this is a case of the elves excluding the dwarves I would like to see a few of them hired into consulting positions. But I need something they excel at which the MBRC needs,” I said.
“You’ve thought a lot about this,” Doctor Creamintin said.
“Not really,” I frowned. “Hunter made me watch his stuff whenever he was taking yearbook photos, so I got to read a lot of books about leadership and company politics and stuff.”
“Hunter Weller?”
“Yeah.”
“You do keep high company. It will be a great loss for the magical community if you leave.”
I snorted. “You’ll find someone to replace me.”
“Finding a substitute would not be easy, I fear. You are priceless, my dear—or so I’ve been told.”
“What, did Devin drink too much scotch and got a little tipsy again?”
Doctor Creamintin chuckled. “No, for once it was not your beau. It is merely common opinion.”
“I’m not sure how long that will last between this Krad guy and my feud with the Administrator—although that fight is a little one-sided.”
“Ah yes. Krad Temero and Fidem. I’ve gotten an armed escort service to and from the MBRC thanks to them. What measures have they taken for you?”
I clenched my hands and the wryness left my voice. “I’ve had a fairy swat team since Sunday night. I’m supposed to get the full measures tomorrow. I get the impression I’m going to get more than an escort—which is so not fair.”
“But it is. As a wizard I have magical powers at my disposal. You have no such defenses.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, shoving my hands in my pockets. “But I already have a goblin snapping at my heels like a sheep dog. And if I get many more people following me it’s going to be so bizarre and creeper-like, I won’t be able to disguise it.”
“I’m sure management is aware of the position you are in. They will take the necessary precautions, especially with you being as well connected as you are.”
“What do you mean?”
“Administrator Moonspell might not like you much, but he has a vested interest in your welfare. All talks with Weller Goblin Enterprises have gone much smoother since you stepped in as a referee, and Devin—a Fairy Councilmember—visits the center more often than ever. Your presence reassures the MBRC board, and Moonspell wants to keep the trustees happy.
“That’s good…I guess,” I said, somewhat at a loss for words. Was I supposed to be happy that my value was hinged on knowing a flirt and a mob boss? “Anyway, I report to administration about it tomorrow.”
“Good luck. You may need it—the administration department can be a handful.”
“I’m hoping I get to speak to Bryna. I haven’t seen her in a while.”
“She’s Administrator Moonspell’s assistant, right? A selkie, I believe.”
“Yes, she’s a selkie, and she used to be Moonspell’s assistant. Now she’s in the upper levels of the administration department.”
“I thought you had a show down with her when you first joined the MBRC over the cyclopes’ glasses.”
“I did, but she’s still an awesome person. I’m hoping she’ll know if Administrator Moonspell is planning to bother me in the future. But I’ll be happy as long as I get anyone but Aysel.”
Doctor Creamintin laughed. “I hope your desires are reached.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry, but I should head out. I have class in a few minutes,” I said, edging towards the door.
“Ahh, that’s right. Oh—take this file with you. It’s filled with my dwarf findings.”
“Awesome, thanks!”
“My pleasure,” Doctor Creamintin said, waving me out of his office.
I flipped through the file as I headed for my classroom, idly considering what protective measures might be taken on my behalf. I couldn’t keep dragging the fairy swat team with me. They almost busted into my English class when a bird flew into the glass window. These fairies were going to blow their cover wide open soon. Even Harrison didn’t follow me around school.
Mostly I wished they weren’t necessary and tried not to remember why they were with me.
In any case, I knew I could probably operate on good faith with the administrative department. They would want to see me safe, but not reveal the Center’s existence. As long as I didn’t get stuck talking to Aysel, everything would be great!
8
Ugly Bling
“This totally sucks,” I said, my legs tucked to my chest as I slowly spun in a wheeled office chair. “And by sucks, I mean I really didn’t want to deal with you today.”
I briefly saw Aysel’s harassed expression before he spun out of view. “I am not wearing my truth necklace, Morgan.”
“I stopped bothering to censor myself around you ages ago,” I said.
Aysel huffed in a disappointingly manly manner. “Are you finished pouting?”
“No, I’m not. I want Bryna. I don’t want the fairy swat team anymore. And the cafeteria got a frappe machine and it’s already broken!”
“Morgan L. Fae. The MBRC has decided on its actions regarding your personal safety,” Aysel said.
“How did it even break? They had it for less than a week! One stinky week! What, do you guys use crowbars to change the espresso and coffee filters?”
“To begin with, we are removing the team of specialists that were assigned to you as security detail in th
e interim,” Aysel said.
“Surely someone in this place should be able to work those machines. Seriously, you have cookie elves, but not coffee elves?”
“Will you shut up and listen?”
I repentantly faced Aysel and, momentarily cowed, was silent.
Aysel glared at me across his desk before he straightened his lord of the rings elf robe and continued. “The first security measure we are putting into practice is this,” he said, sliding a box across the desk.
“What is it?” I asked, taking the box.
“A tracking necklace,” Aysel said, his forehead wrinkling as he shuffled papers. “If it is removed from you it sends an alert to our defense department. The signal will lead them to you.”
Curious, I cracked open the case. I caught a look at the necklace inside and snapped the lid shut. “I can’t wear this,” I said, my voice tight.
“What?” Aysel said.
“I can’t wear this,” I repeated.
“What are you talking about? You have to wear it.”
“You expect me to carry off this?” I asked, snapping the box open.
Nestled on a velvet pad was the gaudiest silver necklace I’ve ever seen. A huge sapphire was mounted into a plate of silver formed by dozens of twisting lines designed to resemble vines. It wouldn’t have looked out of place on an Elizabethan or Victorian era BBC show or movie. But on a senior in high school it was going to be hideous. The thing sparkled!
Aysel stared at me. “I don’t see the problem.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” I said, casting a dark look at Aysel’s clothes.
Irritated, Aysel leaned back in his chair. “It’s the highest quality available.”
“Don’t want it.”
“In the name of all things fair, it was forged by the same dwarves who make Asahi’s charmed and spelled jewelry!”
“That explains a lot,” I snorted.
“It’s a security measure. You must take it.”
“Too bad, I’m not.”
“Morgan.”
“It’s totally outdated! I can’t wear that with a t-shirt. Are you nuts?”
“Do you have any idea how much it costs?” Aysel said, standing up and smacking his hands on the desk.
“If it cost that much you could have told them to make it a stylish locket or something!” I said.
“A mere locket would not be able to hold such a powerful charm.”
“That’s too bad. I’ll be going without it.”
“You don’t want the security team, you don’t want the necklace. What DO you want, Morgan?”
“I want you to tell me I don’t need it,” I said, my voice quavering. “I want you to say it’s all unnecessary, that I’m not in danger, and this is just your dad being a pain,” I said, my voice cracking with emotion. It felt like a giant wrapped his hands around my throat. My tongue was thick and it was hard to swallow as I tried to ignore how scared I was.
Aysel was stone still behind his desk. “Krad Temero is serious,” he finally said.
I tipped my head to stare at the ceiling. “I know.”
“The necklace will allow us to keep you safe.”
“I know,” I said in a small voice.
Aysel sighed and sat back down in his office chair—a fraction less graceful than normal. “Tell Devin,” he said. “Or Hunter Weller of your fears.”
I snorted. “If I tell Hunter he will assign 20 goblins to me.”
“Then Devin.”
“Maybe…but,” I trailed, lost in my thoughts for a moment.
Aysel organized his papers in a neat stack and avoided looking at me.
I cleared my throat and arranged myself so I sat in the chair like a normal person. “So, the rest of my security measures?”
“A pixie will be shadowing you for observational purposes. As far as defensive maneuvers go, she has a few tricks. The major skill she brings is her ability to move about unseen and to cast glamours. She will have no trouble trailing you in the human and magical community. If she sees any suspicious activity, she will immediately notify the MBRC. The Center will send out a security team to act as backup.”
“Just a pixie?” I asked, my spirits lightening.
“Yes. If you wear the necklace.”
I sighed and picked up the jewelry box. “Right. Fine, I’ll do it. We have to tell Krusher, though, or he’ll knock the pixie out once he figures out she’s there.”
“Weller Goblin Enterprises and the Pooka have already been informed of our measures. I am certain your bodyguard has been informed.”
“Great, is that it?” I asked. I hesitated before I removed the necklace from the box. It was heavy.
“Yes,” Aysel said.
“When do I meet this pixie?”
“She is being debriefed at the moment. She will be waiting outside your classroom when you finish with your advance placement students. Her name is Sink.”
“…What?”
“Her name is Sink.”
“Sink?”
Aysel’s lips flattened in annoyance. “Yes, Sink. Have you become hearing impaired?”
“Her parents named her Sink?”
“It is my understanding that she was named after a famous pixie, but her parents feared an exact copy of the name might bring about the wrath of a corporation.”
“….What?”
“Tinkerbell, or Tink. She is named after Tinkerbell. Now exit my office at once,” Aysel snarled.
“Geez, touchy!” I said, hauling myself out of my chair. “But seriously, Sink? For Tink?”
“Good day, Morgan.”
“Right, whatever. Have fun in your little office,” I said before making my retreat. I slipped out of the administration department before I realized Harrison was a few feet behind me. “So did you hear about your new buddy, Krusher?”
“It’s Harrison, Miss Fae.”
“Good. Aysel said she’ll hook up with us after I’m done with my classes. Her name is Sink,” I said, shaking my head. “I guess I don’t hate my parents so much for letting my godmother name me Morgan L. Fae anymore. It could be worse. They could have named me Dishwasher.”
Harrison was either unamused by my name comparison, or he didn’t care. He said nothing and ghosted along behind me.
I was still thinking about names, so I almost missed it when someone called after me.
“Morgan, Morgan!”
I stopped and listened to the sound before I turned and caught sight of Madeline.
“Hey, Madeline,” I said, greeting the blonde vampire as she trotted up to me.
“Hello,” Madeline said, briefly wrapping her arms around me in a vise-like hug.
“You’ve been missing from class since the museum field trip. Is everything okay?”
“Sorry, I was reporting in to some of the vampire Elders. I’m coming to class today, but I wanted to talk to you,” Madeline said.
“About what?” I asked, allowing her to thread her arm through mine.
“The field trip.”
I stopped for a second, frozen with the memory. “What about it?” I said, recovering my stride.
“I’m certain you have discussed it with various beings, but I want to make sure you feel safe.”
Caught completely off guard, I stopped again and stared at Madeline in surprise. I’ll be the first to admit I’m prone to underestimating Madeline. With the frilly dresses, her puppy-like demeanor, and her hemophobia, it is difficult to remember she is a vampire that is over a hundred years old.
“What?” I said.
“You have never seen the bitter side of magical beings. The cuckoo ward was as close as you’ve come to our darkness, and that mostly reveals how petty fairies are. No magical being before has ever really attacked you,” Madeline said, her eyes hooked on my face. “And while Krad might look young, his powers are still great. I have no doubt his magic was a frightening experience. In spite of that, do you feel safe? Are you alright?”
I glanced over
my shoulder as I felt tears sting my eyes. Harrison thoughtfully dawdled so he was some thirty feet behind us. I looked back at Madeline and bit my lip to keep from crying.
I shook my head.
“Oh, Morgan,” Madeline said before hugging me again, gently this time.
I didn’t cry, but I did hug Madeline back.
“Just as there are evil people in the world, there are evil magical beings,” Madeline said. “You do so much good for us. It is unfortunate but not surprising that you would become a target for such hateful creatures.”
“He’s a kid. Just a kid! But the feeling of all those spiders on me, it was terrifying,” I whispered when Madeline stepped away.
“I’m sure. Dark elf magic is no small matter. But the more you bottle up your fear, the easier you make it for Krad to prey upon you.”
“What do I do?”
“You remember the magical beings you like and love, and you carry a cast-iron skillet.”
“A what?”
“A skillet,” Madeline said, opening up a small drawstring bag that hung from her arm. “Do you recall how I wielded a cast-iron skillet against Krad?”
“You slammed him in the face. It was pretty hard to miss—even with his magic hacking at me.”
“By separating from humans and bathing in darkness, Krad and his minions have given themselves a tremendous weakness: iron and technology,” Madeline said.
“I remember old stories that talked about how fairies can’t touch iron. After I saw the MBRC I figured that had to be a myth,” I said.
“It was reality, once upon a time. As long as elves and fairies hated humanity, they could not embrace the resourcefulness of your race. This showed up mostly in the way iron, and now technology, can cancel out their magic. As you may recall, my iron skillet passed straight through Krad’s defensive barrier.”
“Yeah.”
“It is because Krad and Fidem cling to the old ways. As long as they hate humans, iron and technology will disrupt them.”
“You mean I can fight back with that,” I said.
“Precisely. Which is why I got you this,” Morgan said, pulling a small cast-iron skillet that was just a little bigger than my hand out of her drawstring bag.
