Junkyard Dogma (The Elven Prophecy Book 4)

by Theophilus Monroe

  The king placed his hand on my shoulder. “Think of the possibilities, Caspar. Human governments know how they’re devastating the planet. But even those governments willing to change their behaviors won’t do so because it sets them at a competitive disadvantage against nations who won’t comply, who will continue to rely on fossil fuels.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not necessarily true. There’s an economic incentive in innovation. Countries that embrace green technology will have an advantage eventually.”

  “In time to reverse the course of climate change?” Brightborn asked. “From what I’ve seen, even if every government ceased carbon emissions today, without a way to remove carbon from the atmosphere, all you’d succeed in doing is delaying the inevitable consequences of global warming.”

  I sighed. “How do you know about all this? No one really knows what’s going to happen.”

  “I’ve seen the models,” Brightborn said. “Thanks to the research and information that Layla has brought us over the years. But if we worked together, Caspar, with your abilities and my rule, I could force the world into compliance. You, if you refined your skills, could actually clean the air. We could save the world together, Caspar.”

  I scratched my head. “What would you do to those governments not willing to bow to your power?”

  “They would be forced into compliance.”

  “Forced, how?” I asked.

  “By whatever means necessary. We’re talking about the salvation of this world, and now that New Albion is no longer habitable, it isn’t just your world anymore.”

  I shrugged. “We’ve recharged New Albion before. We could do that again. We could make you a whole new world, with a new fantastic point of view.”

  “It was never our intention to make New Albion our final home,” Brightborn said, clearly unfamiliar with the song from Aladdin that was running through my mind. “It was always meant that we should return and assume a rightful place as the guardians of this world.”

  I shook my head. “You weren’t cut from Uranus’ testicles.”

  Brightborn furrowed his brow. “Excuse me?”

  “The elements, the Furies, and the giants. These were the three races established by God to protect the planet.”

  “According to whose myth?” Brightborn asked. “Is this a tale you learned from your orc?”

  I grunted. “Yeah. So?”

  “Tell me, Caspar. If the orcs were meant to protect this world, why did they fight against our return? Why did they insist on remaining on New Albion? It seems to me, if their race was ever meant to protect this world, they long ago abandoned their calling.”

  “They were protecting us from you, Brightborn,” I said. “They were willing to stay there indefinitely if it meant keeping you from bringing your legions here.”

  “Again, you prove my point,” Brightborn said. “I’ve told you my intentions. I have the ability to rescue this planet from humanity’s abuse.”

  “What’s the long game here, Brightborn? Once you’ve solved the climate crisis, do you really expect me to think you’ll just sit back and let the world govern itself?”

  King Brightborn chuckled to himself. “One problem at a time, Caspar. This is just one example of the plague that humanity has become on this planet.”

  “And your answer to these other problems is what, exactly? Comply with your dictates or suffer?”

  “Humanity has brought enough suffering upon itself,” Brightborn said. “They must endure my hand of discipline that they might learn to stop destroying themselves.”

  “Your hand of discipline,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I’ve heard what your idea of discipline is.”

  “From your orc,” Brightborn said.

  “Exactly!” I shouted. “From my friend. Tell me, Brightborn. What did you do to the giants? If you didn’t wipe them out, you certainly killed millions of them. Those who remain, where are they? And what of the elves? Did you just let the rest of your own people die on New Albion when you took all of its magic with you and your legion?”

  “Bring my daughter back to me,” Brightborn said. “That she might be seen as the chosen one for my legions. Do that, and perhaps, I’ll share with you the truth. Until then, I don’t think you’d blame me for keeping their locations and status to myself. I must maintain my strategic advantages.”

  “Of course,” I said. “But you can’t blame me for asking. How can you expect me to trust you to govern humanity benevolently if, for all I know, you committed genocide not only against the giants but perhaps even your own people?”

  “Why don’t you give it some thought?” Brightborn asked. “Make yourself at home, here. I’ll see to it that you are treated like my own son.”

  I shook my head. “Send me back to the feds. I’d rather rot in jail.”

  Brightborn laughed. “I can’t do that, Caspar.”

  “Then let me go!” I shouted.

  “I can’t do that, either.”

  “You said you’d treat me like your own son!” I protested.

  “And you’ve been a bad boy, son. You’re in time out.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The room where I was being held was more like a formal living room than a dining room. Antique couches, chairs, tables, and even a large crystal chandelier decorated the room. None of it looked remotely functional, much less comfortable. When I was growing up, my parents had a formal dining room that we hardly ever used. I always wondered why we had fancy stuff in one room if we only used it on special occasions. The way I saw it, if you’re going to have nice stuff, you might as well get some use out of it. Like the set of china my mom had inherited from my grandmother. I think we used it once when my parents had a reception at their house to celebrate my engagement to my former wife. Other than that, the set was displayed in a giant curio cabinet. Right next to a gaudy set of Precious Moments statuettes.

  This mansion, and all its furnishings, were on a whole other level of fancy. Brightborn said I should “make myself at home,” but given the options I had, I wasn’t sure I was allowed to even take a seat, much less kick off my shoes and relax like I would if this place really was my home.

  Of course, given the condition of the junkyard ranch and our current lack of accommodating furniture, I suppose sitting on my ass on the hard wood floor wasn’t a far cry removed from sitting on my popped inflatable mattress. It certainly beat my temporary jail cell.

  So I found an empty space on the wall and sat down, leaning against it. The room had a few windows. The glass was likely original. It offered a slightly skewed view of the surrounding neighborhood due to its imperfections. I wasn’t sure where we were. Based on the fact that all the other mansions around this one were also made of red brick and reflected a similar vintage, I guessed we must’ve been in one of the wealthier, older areas of the city. Perhaps around Clayton or the Tower Grove neighborhood.

  The two elven guards still stood their post at the only entrance to or exit from the room—not counting the windows, of course. I suppose I could have tried to escape, but first, I wasn’t exactly inclined to throw my body through the old glass, and second, even if I flew out of there, chances were all it would take for Brightborn to catch me again would be a fairy portal or two.

  I’d barely had the thought when, as coincidence would have it, I spotted two glowing circles forming right over each of the guard’s heads.

  The portals both fell over their heads, and they disappeared.

  I chuckled. “What the hell? I guess this is my chance.”

  I stood up and headed for the hallway.

  I didn’t make it far. Another fairy portal formed just in front of me in the direction I was moving.

  I shrugged and stepped inside it.

  I wasn’t sure what fairy was working to help me escape, but I wasn’t going to question it. Whoever it was, or whatever fairy might be risking his glittery ass to break me out, was probably worth trusting.

  I reappeared in the stone circle�
�the one near Elrand’s place.

  I looked all around. There was no sign of Aerin’s father. Each of the stones, though, still glowed in colors corresponding to each of the five elements.

  I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  I turned around quickly.

  One of the Furies stood there, smiling at me more kindly than any of them did the last time we met.

  “What is going on?” I asked.

  “I took it upon myself to bring you here,” the Fury said.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I mean, I think… I was trying to do what we said. I turned myself in and everything.”

  “I understand,” the Fury said. “But given what you told us before, I’ve taken it upon myself to investigate matters related to the elves.”

  “You and your sisters?” I asked.

  “Just me,” the Fury said. “I am Tisiphone.”

  I cocked my head. “The avenger of murder? The one Fury who wasn’t inclined to agree with me before?”

  Tisiphone nodded. “I’ve been watching you. Listening to you. Your plan with your lawyer. Even your conversation with the elven king.”

  “Watching and listening?” I asked. “But how?”

  “The elements within you, Naayak.”

  “You can call me Caspar,” I said.

  “I’d rather not,” Tisiphone said, dismissing my attempt to make things more personable and casual. “Only when you wield your magic will the lesser fairies sense your activity. But with the essence of the elements within you, I know all your thoughts, all your actions.”

  I snorted. “Well, I suppose that’s convenient.”

  “I’ve heard enough to realize that what you told us before was true. The elven king has, indeed, wielded the sacred power of earth to kill. It was he who manipulated you to kill the one you call Mister Rogers.”

  I nodded. “Well, it’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood, after all.”

  “You must still answer for your role in the murder,” Tisiphone said.

  I snorted. “Okay. Well, perhaps it’s a slightly overcast day in the neighborhood, then.”

  “But you must bring it to trial in such a way that the elven king’s guilt is also brought forward to the authorities. If he is convicted, in your courts, it will no longer be tenable for your President to maintain his alliance with Brightborn.”

  I shook my head. “There’s just no way we can get this to trial in one lunar cycle.”

  “I am willing to convince my sisters to forestall our plans to unleash our wrath on your land, provided you can do us a service in kind.”

  I nodded. “Anything. What do you need me to do?”

  “You must do as prophesied. You must unite the three guardian races.”

  I nodded. “Well, I have the elements. If you are willing to help, I’d certainly appreciate it. Plus, I can bring Brag’mok to you.”

  “He is just one giant,” Tisiphone said. “I need you to rescue them all.”

  “Rescue the giants?” I asked. “Brightborn suggested they might still be alive. But I don’t even know where to start.”

  Tisiphone pressed her lips together. “From listening in on the elves’ conversations, I’ve discovered that a remnant of the giants managed to preserve a small amount of magic that is sustaining them on New Albion. I cannot take you to them. But I can open the gateway to New Albion. You must take your wife, the one who possesses the power of angels, and the giant Brag’mok with you, and bring them here that they might unite with us to protect your world.”

  I scratched the back of my head. “I’ll do it. But Layla, her power…why do we need her with me exactly?”

  “There are creatures on the planet you call New Albion, hostile entities that are impervious to both elemental magic and physical attack. The celestial powers she wields preclude all words. You will need her to survive the trek through New Albion to reach the giants.”

  “Brightborn just broke me out of federal custody,” I said. “They’re going to be looking for me.”

  “Then I’d suggest you complete this mission sooner rather than later. I will shield you from the other fairies. Do what you must to ensure that this is done.”

  I shook my head. “But breaking out of custody…that’s not going to go well for me with the courts.”

  “That may be,” Tisiphone said. “That is a matter of secondary concern.”

  I huffed. “One day at a time, I suppose.”

  “And one challenge at a time,” Tisiphone said. “This is an opportunity I’ve never once afforded a mortal, a chance to assuage the Furies’ wrath. I advise you to make the most of this chance.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Tisiphone teleported me back to the junkyard ranch.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Agnus asked as I appeared beside him on my deflated air mattress.

  “Sorry, buddy. I suspect you were looking forward to becoming the man of the house?”

  Agnus nuzzled his chin against the top of my hand. “How’s the butthole doing?”

  I snorted. “I didn’t get locked up with anyone else, so it’s doing just fine.”

  “Good to hear,” Agnus said. “I was worried about that.”

  I chuckled. “Well, I’ll probably be going back eventually. It’s a long story.”

  “Caspar!” Layla exclaimed as she walked through the front door of the farmhouse and saw me. She ran to me and jumped into my waiting arms.

  “Hey, babe!” I said before pecking a kiss on her lips.

  “They let you out?” Layla asked.

  I shook my head. “Not exactly.”

  “Caspar, I thought you said you wouldn’t use your powers?”

  “I didn’t,” I said. “Your father broke me out. Turns out he was just waiting for me to get locked up so he’d know where to find me. He used a fairy gate.”

  “And he just let you go again?” Layla asked.

  “Again… Not exactly… Where’s Aerin? I need to find her and Brag’mok. The situation has changed.”

  “They’re both outside training,” Layla said. “You’d never believe how smooth these drow women are with a sword.”

  “Not as good as you are with a bow, I’d wager,” I said, smiling.

  “Of course not,” Layla chuckled. “But still, they’re pretty formidable.”

  I nodded. “We’ll be needing them sooner than later, I suspect.”

  “So, what exactly happened? Tell me everything.”

  I detailed how her father confronted me and everything he’d said. I told her how Tisiphone broke me out of Brightborn’s mansion and what she revealed about the giants in New Albion.

  “We need to tell Brag’mok,” Layla said. “He needs to hear that there might be survivors.”

  I nodded. “That’s why I asked you where he was.”

  I followed Layla out of the house and across the grass to where Brag’mok and the drow were training.

  The second Aerin saw me, she came running. Brag’mok sauntered behind her. He wasn’t much of a runner. Not that he couldn’t move quickly when he had to, but when you’re that large around a crowd of others not half your size, I suppose you have to be more careful with your steps.

  “Caspar?” Aerin asked.

  “Going to need you to call the lawyer,” I said. “There have been a few complications.”

  “What brings you back here so soon?” Brag’mok asked.

  “Aerin,” I said. “Layla will update you on what’s going on. Brag’mok, let's go somewhere to talk.”

  Brag’mok nodded, and he followed me back around to the back side of one of the many piles of junk that littered the property.

  “I don’t know how to tell you this,” I said. “But I have good news.”

  “Good news?” Brag’mok asked. “Something you had to tell me privately?”

  “You might not be the last giant alive,” I said. “Brightborn tried to abduct me from jail. He succeeded, actually. While we were talking, he suggested that there might be some
giants still alive. One of the Furies confirmed that it’s true.”

  “I don’t understand,” Brag’mok said. “The magic on New Albion; it’s gone.”

  “After Brightborn abducted me,” I explained, “one of the Furies came and helped me escape. She said that there was a small pocket of magic that some of the more adept giants managed to hold on to. She told me I needed to take you and Layla to New Albion to rescue them.”

  Brag’mok stared at me blankly, and a single tear fell down his massive cheek. “Yes, we must go now.”

  I nodded. “Get whatever you need. We’re bringing Layla with us. Tisiphone, the Fury who helped me, said she’d take us to New Albion but that we’d have to traverse some lands that aren’t exactly habitable anymore.”

  Brag’mok grunted. “We’ll have to face the torwyr nos.”

  “The what?” I asked.

  “The nightcrawlers,” Brag’mok said.

  “The native inhabitants of New Albion?” I asked.

  Brag’mok nodded. “They are intelligent, but they have no tolerance for lands vivified by Earth magic. During all the centuries we were there, however, the majority of the planet remained in its natural condition. That is where the torwyr nos dwell. It is said that to encounter one is to die. There’s no way to kill them.”

  “Except with celestial power,” I said. “Tisiphone said that Layla’s power would work against them.”

  Brag’mok cocked his head. “How curious. And fortunate, I should say. But even with her power, presuming the Fury told you the truth, the nightcrawlers move silently and quickly. They’re nearly impossible to see, and once you see them, you might have just a few seconds to react. Only a few have ever survived an encounter with the torwyr nos, and it is from these few accounts that we know what we do.”

  “Have you ever encountered one?” I asked.

  Brag’mok shook his head. “I have not. Though, my brother once did.”

  “B’iff?”

  Brag’mok grunted. “When we were but children. He ventured beyond the living lands into the shades.”