Fearless Genre Warriors

by Steve Lockley

  Several diagrams appeared on the screen, illustrating, ‘Hypothesized Cellular Structures Within Supra-ordinary Creatures.’ ‘But we do have some constructs.’

  ‘Are you asking me to describe my cell structures?’ Fey really hoped that Killmorin was because Fey could honestly answer, ‘I don’t know.’ When Fey looked inside herself, she saw something like the incalculable rings of an old, old tree.

  ‘No, no. I am providing context. Your kind are sensitive to iron. My research indicates that the strength of the reaction seems incompatible with any normal mammalian hemoglobin count, even at the lowest survivable levels. And yet, none of you show visible morphological structures consistent with non-mammalian or ectothermic animals.’

  Fey stared at the array of blood cells, images of vascular systems and platelets, and graphs of hemoglobin levels on the screen. Killmorin’s blood magic was not terribly sophisticated. And Killmorin apparently didn’t know that some of the machines could speak to Fey. Maybe there was a way out for all of them, Fey, Doug, the others trapped in here.

  Killmorin noticed Fey staring. ‘You don’t seem like you have a background in biology.’

  ‘Are you asking?’

  ‘No.’

  Fey looked back at the mirror again and said, ‘I like how science looks.’

  Killmorin sighed, ‘I will ask this as simply as possible: Is your blood red?’

  ‘Yes.’

  The truth was that Fey’s blood was red because she was Noel right now. She was wearing a human skin. It was even more true that Fey had never seen her own blood in her own form. All fairies were different. That was probably why the fairy’s blood disappeared as it was drawn. It could not exist with the kind of taxonomic consistency that Killmorin required. But that was speculation. Killmorin had requested facts.

  She swiped a finger across the screen. ‘Did you get that, Jessica.’

  A young woman in a white clean suit looked back at Killmorin from the screen. ‘Yes, ma’am. We’ll begin new simulations.’

  ‘Good.’ She touched the screen again. ‘Mirror, isolate this room.’

  ‘Yes, Ms. Killmorin.’

  Fey recognized the voice.

  ‘Mirror is one of my proudest achievements. I can actually scry with her.’

  Fey glanced back towards the door again, wondering how she’d make it out. She was fairly certain that Killmorin would not honour their bargain.

  ‘Now that no one is listening, I will ask my last question. What is your real name?’

  ‘Noel Coward.’

  ‘We made a bargain. Answer.’

  Fey looked straight at Killmorin.’Noel Coward. I answered your questions. Now let me go.’

  Killmorin, carefully placed the wand back in its case. From the same case, she pulled an ivory wand and set it on the steel table. Fey presumed it was empty since there were no red capillaries of light. Then, Killmorin pulled out a long iron needle and pointed it towards Fey. The proximity of the iron made Fey’s skin itch.

  ‘I will do better than that. I will transform you into something you could never imagine—a being of light and energy. I will free you.’

  ‘I don’t think I’d much like it.’

  Fey wished Reynard were here. She really wished that she had brought her gun with her, too. Doug was right. Ephemera needed unmaking and only a death would do it.

  ‘You will only feel a short moment of discomfort when the adaptor makes contact. Conversion is very efficient.’

  Fey dodged as best she could, but Noel was ungainly. After several thrusts, Killmorin jabbed the needle into Noel’s skin. Fey tore herself out. She felt bad for Noel. They’d had a lot of fun together, but Noel was a skin, not a living being and she did not like the look of those wands at all. She pushed the empty skin onto Killmorin. Entangled in Noel, Killmorin panicked. She started flailing and swearing at Noel, who really deserved better. Just over the cursing, Fey heard the mirror say, ‘Balor, help her.’

  The door opened and Fey pelted down the corridor, through the door to reception. The door shut immediately behind her. She stopped for a moment and told a still dazed Gail, ‘Don’t drink the coffee. And maybe take your vacation days.’

  Gail nodded. She didn’t seem to notice that Fey was naked.

  Fey ran into the open elevator and it started down without her pushing L. In the lobby, the unibrowed guard started around his desk, pulling out an expandable baton. Fey ran straight at him, jumped and planted her knee right in his chest. She followed the guard to the ground, struck him in the side of his head with her elbow and scrambled through the metal detector and out of the building to her car. Chantelle waved without looking up from her book as Fey drove past.

  Back home, Fey pulled on jeans, boots and her lucky green sweater. She sat for a while thinking. Then, sliding her gun out from under Reynard, she packed her briefcase with what she needed. She called Doug as she gathered up her black leather coat, her favourite one, the serious business one. Reynard stretched, jumped out of the filing cabinet and followed Fey down the street.

  Twenty minutes, Doug met her at Cafe Vert. Fey was nursing hot cider and a bruised knee.

  ‘You’re paying for this cider, Doug. And you’re paying for the lemon scone they’re bringing me.’

  ‘I couldn’t tell you.’

  ‘I know you couldn’t tell me everything, but you could’ve told me more than you did. You could’ve told me this was about more than a werewolf.’

  Doug shifted in his seat. ‘Did you figure out how she cursed me?’

  ‘I’m pretty sure the guy working the security desk is a werewolf. I think Killmorin thinks she’s fixed it so you’re his next victim. But she’s messing with a lot of very complicated things at once, a lot more than she knows and certainly more than any one person could handle.’

  The server from the day before brought over Fey’s scone and set it on the table with three forks and extra napkins. After she walked away, Fey continued. ‘Most likely, Killmorin got a promise or was granted a wish before trapping a creature in one of her glow sticks. Your pentagram might just be a glamour to frighten you or to convince the guard to kill you—or both—but that werewolf doesn’t look like he’s too torn up about his nature. I doubt he’ll look at the pentagram too closely.’

  ‘That’s not comforting.’ Doug broke off a piece of scone. He looked so gloomy that Fey let him.

  ‘Here is the way I figure it, and correct me if you think I’m wrong, Reynard.’ Reynard squinted. Fey turned back to Doug. ‘Killmorin’s the one holding Ephemera together. She’s working with bargains and bindings, what she thinks are unbreakable laws and rules. But I am very good at breaking things.’

  Reynard sniffed. ‘I know, it’s not elegant. Not everything can be elegant, Reynard.’ Doug watched Fey argue with, well, more at her cat and ate another piece of scone.

  ‘How? With a briefcase and a lazy tomcat?’

  Reynard ignored the aspersion.

  ‘With my briefcase full of tricks and my gun. I’m going to shoot her.’

  ‘Like I wanted you to.’

  ‘Like that, but different.’

  Doug and Reynard exchanged looks.

  ‘You have to come with me this time, Doug.’

  ‘You want me to go with you to Ephemera, where both the werewolf, who might kill me, and my old boss, who wants the werewolf to kill me, are?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Couldn’t that be how my death by werewolf plays out?’

  ‘Yes.’ Fey put down the piece of scone she was about to eat. ‘It’s easier for me to watch out for you if it all happens where I am. Besides, I think I should make myself a part of the whole pattern before I unmake it.’

  ‘Crazy talk.’

  ‘Fairy.’

  Reynard smiled a little cat smile.

  ‘So when do we go?’
<
br />   ‘After I finish the scone you’re buying me.’

  There was no point in being sneaky, so they took Fey’s Charger. Reynard sat shotgun. Reynard always got shotgun, Fey explained, as she glanced through the contents of her briefcase and made sure that all the fairy darts in her .44 were in good condition.

  ‘Those look like flint arrowheads.’

  ‘They’re fairy darts.’ Doug winced every time Fey turned around in the driver’s seat to talk to him.

  ‘That can’t possibly work.’

  ‘You’d be surprised.’

  It was after hours at Ephemera and booth next to the gate was empty. Fey was glad that Chantelle was gone for the day. The gate opened, nonetheless. Fey didn’t know if it were the mirror, Balor or Killmorin inviting them in. The Charger parked in the fire lane as they got out. ‘Maybe you should stay with the car, Reynard.’

  Reynard lashed his tail.

  ‘I know, but I don’t want them messing with my car. And someone needs to be ready to get us out if things go wrong kinda wrong, but not totally wrong.’

  Reynard sat on the asphalt and licked his chest. Fey walked to the door. ‘We’re here to see Ava Killmorin.’ The door opened with a buzz and a click. Fey entered ahead of Doug.

  The sun hadn’t quite set yet, but the guard was clearly starting to feel the pull of the moon. He bared his very white teeth as he said, ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to search you.’

  Fey set her briefcase on the floor in front of the metal detector and unlatched it, then pulled out a garland and tossed it to Doug. ‘Here, put this on.’

  Doug put it on. Fey clicked her briefcase shut, then turned to the guard, with her .44 in hand and said, ‘No, not tonight.’

  The wolfsbane made the guard miserable fast. He was already rubbing red and running eyes and coughing dry coughs. ‘That really does seem uncomfortable. If you stay away from Doug, you should be alright.’

  Fey and Doug walked past the snuffling guard. Fey pressed the elevator’s up button. The elevator dinged and they stepped in, while the guard coughed and sneezed.

  Killmorin was waiting for them on the fourth floor. She was alone. ‘Doug, I’m so glad to see you’re feeling better. Have you come to catch up on a little work? It’s not too late. The sun isn’t quite set. And Noel, you’ve lost weight.’ She glanced at the briefcase. ‘I’ll be blunt. It will cost a lot to remove Doug’s curse. I’ve invested quite a bit of capital in him. You might have to compensate me yourself.’

  ‘I’m ready to deal with you,’ Fey said.

  ‘I’m glad for everyone’s sake that you can be reasonable. Let’s negotiate in more comfortable environs.’

  Killmorin led them to the room she had stepped out of earlier when she had blocked Fey’s exit. There was another iteration of Killmorin’s mirror along the wall, an empty low glass and chrome desk with black leather chair, two grey upholstered chairs with spindly chrome legs and a blocky red leather couch on equally spindly chrome legs on the other. Killmorin indicated that they should sit in the chairs. Between the chairs and the couch was an ebony coffee table with a pitcher of water, four glasses and a plate of windmill cookies on it.

  ‘I’d offer you some refreshment, but I’m sure you’d refuse.’

  Killmorin seated herself on the couch, facing both them and the door. ‘Vintage Eero Saarinen. It’s remarkably easy to acquire Saarinen furniture here. People don’t know the value of what they have.’

  Doug sat silently, jiggling his knee up and down. Fey kept her briefcase on her lap, her revolver on top of the briefcase and her hand on her gun.

  ‘Keep your gun, if it makes you feel better, but you should know that we have precautions against firearms.’ Killmorin said. Fey didn’t move her hand. ‘Suit yourself. Now, let’s discuss our situation. Doug, what Ephemera is doing has incredible implications. You could be a part of it.’

  ‘You’d just let me come back?’

  ‘I realize now that cursing you was wrong. You are a very efficient office manager with great rapport with our human and non-human resources and that is valuable to us. As you are obviously a caring and empathetic person. I should’ve trusted that the work itself would reveal its value to you: the lives that could be saved by machines that can prevent accidents before they happen; the healing of our planet with a new limitless, green energy source. For that, I apologize. But I invested quite a bit of capital in incentivizing you. And so, I am giving you an opportunity to demonstrate your understanding, your belief in the project and compensate Ephemera for what you’ve cost us by helping us acquire this creature.’

  Doug was too stunned to speak.

  ‘Doug, I don’t want to rush you, but the sun has set.’

  ‘You want me to give Fey to you to pay you back for cursing me?’

  Killmorin smiled slightly, hearing Fey’s name. ‘I want you to help me transform the future of our world. Did you even know about the existence of creatures like Fey before you worked here? I revealed this wonder to you.’

  ‘You also revealed the wonder of werewolves and curses to me, Ava.’

  Fey heard the werewolf, a low growling and the click of his nails on the black and white checkerboard hallway tile. There was a sneeze and then a whine.

  ‘Glenn has come to join us. You don’t have much time, Doug, flowers or no flowers.’ Glenn scratched at the door, sounding like any dog.

  Doug was trembling, but he managed to say, ‘Ava, what you’re doing is wrong. It’s wrong. I can’t.’

  ‘I guess one can’t alter fate after all.’ Killmorin raised her voice, ‘Glenn, come.’

  The door slid open. Glenn the werewolf stood outlined in the hall’s fluorescent light. He still wore his security uniform. The shirt was ragged, torn and dirty at the cuffs, but the black work pants had held up well. He was barefoot. His baton still hung from his belt. Not that he needed the baton, Glenn’s claws and teeth were very sharp. His growling was punctuated by snuffling and sneezes. Fey thought that his wolf ears were cute. ‘Cute ears,’ she said.

  Killmorin looked at Doug and said, ‘Stay, Doug.’ Doug went rigid in his seat.

  Glenn stepped into the room. Fey turned her revolver on the werewolf and hoped that he could understand her. He seemed to understand Killmorin. ‘Hold it, Sparky. You don’t know what I have loaded in here, but you have to believe that I came here after sunset prepared for a werewolf.’

  Neither Glenn nor Killmorin moved. ‘Glenn, you best leave here now. You’ve been tricked. Ava used your sad affliction to try rid herself of Doug. I saw the pentagram on his hand. It’s not normal for other people to see the pentagram. You know that.’

  The werewolf slowly turned to look at Killmorin. She said, ‘You know you can’t hurt me.’ When he continued growling at her, she said, ‘You’re fired, Glenn.’

  Glenn snarled a terrifying snarl at Killmorin, then left. Fey turned her revolver back on Killmorin. ‘I don’t think he’ll be back.’

  Killmorin placed a dull ivory wand on the coffee table and stood up, holding her iron needle.

  ‘Maybe you don’t think I will shoot you, Ava.’

  Killmorin snorted. ‘I believe you would, but I told you that I took precautions against firearms. Your gun won’t work here. Neither steel nor iron can hurt me, which is more than I can say for you.’

  ‘It shoots fairy darts. They’re flint and they can hurt you.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous. That can’t possibly work. The flint would just shatter.’

  ‘You don’t understand. I will make it work.’ Fey sighed at Killmorin’s perplexity. ‘First you unmake the rules, then you can do anything.’

  Fey raised her gun and fired. Killmorin lunged as she fell. Fey shot Killmorin one more time and Doug was free.

  ‘The pentagram’s gone.’ He said. Doug looked up at Fey. ‘So that’s it?’

  Fey struck
the wand on the table with the butt of her gun. The wand blackened and split open like an overheated bone.

  ‘No, there’s one more thing to do.’ She pushed her briefcase over to him. ‘Open it.’

  Doug opened the briefcase and took out a cast iron skillet wrapped in several layers of deer skin, flannel and plastic bubble wrap.

  ‘Smash the mirror with it.’

  ‘The mirror?’

  ‘That big, shiny screen on the wall.’

  ‘What’s going to happen to me?’

  ‘Nothing, if you wear the safety goggles and the work gloves I packed with the skillet.’

  ‘But why don’t you do it?’

  ‘Because you have a link to Killmorin, because you are human, and because I already burned my hands on that skillet today.’

  ‘One question first.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Did you really come prepared to kill a werewolf?’

  ‘Not really.’

  Doug frowned.

  ‘I’d have shot him, though.’

  ‘With fairy darts.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Doug sighed, put on the safety goggles and pulled on the heavy suede gloves. Fey covered her face as Doug raised the skillet and smashed it into the screen three times.

  The mirror lit briefly, then went dark. Balor’s red eye winked out over the door. Fey had expected something more, some sound, but there was only the absence of ambient electrical noise. All the doors had slid open. In the transformation room, Noel’s remains were laid out on the steel table. Fey looked in each box of wands. The wands were all scorched and cracked. In every room, the computer screens were cracked, too. Nothing worked.

  ‘Mirror?’ Fey said. There was no answer and that was probably the best she could hope for. She collected the remains of Noel from the table, carefully folding them, then followed Doug down the stairs.

  Outside, the car was running. Reynard hopped out of the driver’s seat and curled up in the passenger’s seat. Doug pushed back the driver’s seat to find Glenn the werewolf already sitting in the back. ‘Goddammit,’ Doug said, tired.