by Elle Cross
There was only one them that anyone ever talked about. And the way Jack had been taken, his fear…I couldn’t think of anything or anyone he was afraid of. He had sliced off that old Vampire’s head with no hesitation. He had been respectful, but generally dismissive of the Sylph contingent that had helped with the cleanup.
“I don’t remember him referring to the Sylphs, but you know, we didn’t really talk about his job or who he rolled out with.” It made me wonder, though. Jack had hinted at knowing about some rumored clubs. VIP clubs. Even if he had been joking, clandestine clubs met all the time. There was always truth inside of urban legends.
Owen’s memories also lent itself to some kind of shady business involving torture and endless pain. And, that creepy parasite that had watched me ride in his mind…it had to be linked somehow.
Corbin was the expert, but she’d said often enough for me to believe it: There are no coincidences.
“I find it strange, don’t you, that one randomly beautiful dude connected with the Remnant Gods had been kidnapped, found, and effectively silenced before he could reveal anything important. And then by the next day, another randomly beautiful dude seems to be kidnapped.
There are these links to the Remnant Gods—Owen’s card, working with Deimos, that whole business with Janus Holdings, that fight in the middle of a potentially crowded dinner time, and now this.” She gestured to the room, but I knew she referred to the mirror. “Damn, if Deimos knew something that could have prevented this…”
She stopped. She didn’t want to say something she would regret, and as her friend, I appreciated that she was trying to spare my feelings. But at the same time, I agreed with her. What the hell was so wrong with sharing what little information he might have known? Maybe Corbin and her team could have been that much closer to the killer, or kidnapper, or creepy parasite thing that had been lurking in the shadows of my mind while I had read Owen.
Deimos may have been unwilling or unable to share information. Fine. There was more than one Remnant God tribe on this side of the veil, the largest contingent of which just happened to owe me a favor.
The general population had accepted many of the advancements that the Sylphs shared with the world. Some people though, would rather believe that the Sylphs, and any of the other Remnant God tribes, didn’t exist. They often referred to the favors that the Sylphs bestowed as some unexplained scientific phenomena. Like how our ancestors once thought that colds and viruses were brought on by evil spirits or that the Black Death was God's judgment on mankind. Science, though, revealed that microscopic organisms (and poor sanitation) were the culprit.
So, the common dissenting thought was unexplained magic wrought by the Remnant Gods was akin to unexplained science.
Right. And, science would eventually be able to explain how I can siphon emotions and carry them around inside me.
Funny how the most adamant skeptics were usually the most star struck whenever they were in the same room as a Sylph. Even the most unflappable news reporter became an awkward teenager around them.
There had been a newscast recently when a contingent of Sylphs had announced through a representative that they had accepted the terms of the latest UN summit regarding holding a voting seat among the nations.
The opposing viewpoints had maneuvered the conversation toward science and medicine, charging that if the Sylphs were really interested in helping mankind, then they should just heal the sick with their god-like powers. Or, even better, that Sylphs should allow scientists to study them so that they'd be able to replicate the Sylphs' abilities.
Some of the more radical ideas were spouted by the anchorman himself, who was supposed to be moderating the talks. He had suggested that perhaps the public didn't need to wait for the Sylphs to submit to a scientific study willingly.
The Sylph representative had simply cocked her head to the side and stared at the anchorman until he visibly squirmed. Then, she had stated in her resonant voice that didn't allow for any ambiguity, "I find it curious that a man who would take money from his superiors to pay for sexual favors would not himself use that same money for the betterment of mankind, as you have said."
The anchorman's face had turned a mottled purple. "How dare—"
The Sylph had raised her hand, refusing to be interrupted. A moment later, all of the television monitors in the news room showcased all of the anchorman's dirty deeds, all his memories fluttering on full display for all to see.
With that as the back drop, the Sylph spoke directly into the camera. "Do not misunderstand our intention. We do not accept this position for the betterment of mankind. Would you lie yourself down before your dogs?
“We would observe your talks and ensure that you do not continue to destroy this world that is home to many more than the tribe of men."
The Sylph had waved her hand as if she were done with questions, and moved away from the round table.
Before she had left the newsroom completely, she had addressed the anchorman over her shoulder, "You may speak again, but you may only ever speak the truth. Starting with your deepest secrets."
The opposing viewpoints had refused to be cowed. The anchorman, already riled that he had been silenced and audacious filth was being showcased on live television, yelled after the Sylph contingency. He may have planned to deny all she had said. We would never know. What came out instead was a shouting confession of abhorrent activities. Most of the details of one tumbled out before he was able to clap a hand over his mouth.
There was dead silence on the air. The pretty anchorwoman at the news desk was slack-jawed and staring.
The newscast had switched to commercial soon after. The last I'd heard of that anchorman, he had committed himself into a mental institution.
Not surprisingly, there was a universal moratorium on Sylphs as a subject for interviews or general news coverage.
I dug through my bag looking for my phone.
There were a few missed calls and voicemails from numbers that weren't familiar, and I ignored them with a swipe of my finger, promising myself that I would call those other people soon. For now, I needed to call a few beings who owed me a favor.
"You called the Sylphs?" Corbin whispered at me. She paced my living room.
I hadn't wanted to stay in Jack's apartment while we waited for them. Seeing all the other people there was squeezing my heart to bits.
"And just when did you have the Sylphs on speed dial?"
"Well, remember the fucking vampire?"
"That fucking vampire?"
"Well, the Sylphs asked us—Jack and I—kindly not to say anything to anybody about it. And they paid us. Offered us a favor each." I let that sink in for Corbin. She could be adamantly opposed to this idea. She was very black and white about these sorts of things.
"Us? You mean you and Jack."
I nodded. "They did not seem to like that their wards were somehow tricked by such common means—"
"Oh that's rich. By normal humans, I take it?"
"That and at all, what with safety and security being their 'number one concern'...they asked us never to speak of it."
She looked at me exasperated. "But you never told me!"
I just blinked at her. "They were pretty universal about never speaking about it."
"But why—"
"Because they are Sylphs!” She needed to know that even though she was virtually untouchable, there were other beings who wouldn’t care about her rank or work performance. “I love you, Corbin, but I was not going to chance them getting pissed off with me. Or worse: Coming after you."
A small cough drew our attention to the door. I had left my apartment wide open to allow for the police people to walk freely if they needed more space.
It was one of Corbin's men. "Boss." Then he did that head nod thing that men seemed to do really well.
Corbin gave me a look that said we would put this conversation on hold, and headed toward the door.
"Rajah, stay." I walked af
ter Corbin, ignoring Rajah's whines.
The clamor in the hallway stopped altogether. Three figures stood just outside the elevator. They were dressed in light and flickered in and out of sight as they moved. They were the embodiment of the light and air that they represented. Long, crystalline hair flowed down their backs, melding beautifully with the long robes they wore. They smelled of crisp winter air.
These were true Sylphs, belonging to that Remnant God tribe, and not just used as the generic term for otherworldly being.
I had an odd compulsion to blow at them to see if they'd disappear completely from view. I didn't think they'd find that as amusing as I would.
They seemed to be speaking to themselves, pointing out things only they saw around them. Their words came out as chimes, vibrating through the air in mellifluous harmonics.
When they noticed us, they shifted slightly, the two larger figures deferring to the smallest of the trio, who still towered over me, and stood eye-level to Corbin. "Ah, Lady Vesper. A pleasure." Her voice was the melodic strum of harp strings. "This must be Lady Corbin?"
Corbin cocked her brow at the term Lady. We knew it was the Sylph's polite form of addressing women, like Ms. or Mrs. They just seemed loath to use those terms. "Detective Troy," Corbin said dryly.
The Sylph didn't seem to acknowledge the amendment. "We have heard you had a concern, Lady Vesper? We hope you are well? No vampires recently?"
Always, that vampire. "Yes, thank you...and no, no vampires."
"Ah." She shimmered, and I could have sworn it was like she giggled to herself.
I waited for her to address herself, but remembered they were more literal and forthright than most. Hints and subtleties were lost to them. "What may I call you, Lady?"
"I am called Lady Astara." Since she didn't bother to name her associates, I let it go at that. Besides, she seemed like the mouthpiece for this group.
"Thank you, Lady Astara, for your timely arrival." When I had called, I hadn't expected them to come so quickly. They seemed to experience time differently than we did.
"We would have been here sooner, but you know." A shimmering that indicated a flick of her wrist. She didn’t expand or explain herself.
Corbin and I shared a look. What were we to know?
"So, anyway, since you are here, so timely, I would show you my concern." I felt so fumbly and awkward, out of practice dealing with a race that placed heavy emphasis on what was said and holding people accountable to the words. Some even went so far as to remove contractions from their speech, since even that could be construed as a type of shadiness. Most people tended to say nothing around them.
Lady Astara lit up brighter, if that were possible. "Oh, please do."
The other police folk tried very hard not to openly stare, but it was clear that no one was paying attention to their work with the Sylphs here.
The faster we could get them in and out, the sooner everyone else could find something that would lead them to Jack.
I led the contingent to the bedroom. I still couldn't let myself attribute this room to Jack.
I motioned Astara to what had become a mirrored wall. "Here is my concern, Lady Astara." We described what we had done in eventually creating the mirror without a reflection. "Detective Troy and I were reluctant to disturb it."
The way the Sylph hardly looked at it as she made her way around the room made me feel all kinds of foolish. Then again, I would gladly feel every kind of stupid if it meant finding Jack.
I was just about to apologize and thank her for her time, when she stopped and shimmered. Her face and manner could freeze beer. "Well. This is not much of a challenge you have set us, Lady Vesper. We are simply in front of a portal, though how it is here is quite curious indeed."
I didn't say anything, Corbin and I just exchanged looks. But we both had the same philosophy: Let people talk. Once people started talking, they tended to reveal way more than you originally wanted to know.
"So, this isn't creepy or dangerous?"
Astara cocked her head, assessing the question. "Dangerous? I suppose if you were to use this to go to someplace dangerous. But in general no." She shrugged, clearly disappointed that she wasn't as challenged as she had hoped to be. "Just a fixed mode of transportation."
Then, Corbin and I jumped on the same wavelength and asked at the same time:
"Can you see where it went last?"
"Can you take us to its last coordinates?"
Astara seemed amused by our simultaneous request because she clapped like a child, completely at odds with her imperious air. She motioned to us, herding us to the middle of the room facing the Mirror. The lack of reflection still creeped me out.
"Ladies, if you stand just so." She directed Corbin and me to stand on either side of her, three feet away. Then, she motioned to the other Sylphs who wordlessly stood in front and behind her so that Astara was in the middle of a diamond formation.
I didn't know what she thought to accomplish when beams of light intersected and interconnected us. My first instinct was to jump away from them.
Corbin's too.
Astara must have felt it or anticipated it, because a tendril of light curled itself around my wrist, keeping me in place. I'd assumed that the same thing happened to Corbin, since she stood awkwardly still.
And then I saw the Mirror glow, softly at first before building in intensity.
Light expanded and unfolded from the Mirror until the light covered the walls and ceiling, enveloping the room. The light faded along the walls to reveal more mirrors.
The entire room was made of mirrors. Seamless, smooth, perfect mirrors on all sides.
I tried to wonder what a room composed of mirrors would look like if no one were here to see it and cast a reflection. It was like trying to figure out infinity or pi or my taxes. Made my head hurt.
We were able to see our reflections again, at least from the mirrors on either side of us. The one ahead was still occluded.
"It would seem that this entire room is a portal, and not just a vessel for one," Astara happily announced, like a child in class who knew the right answer and expected a prize. "The entire room can bring you to your destination. How convenient." Then there was a dark thrumming that whispered out of her and stopped suddenly. "The double mirror allowed him to travel out, but not allow any to travel in. It is one way."
Something told me that it was a good thing it was. She probably wouldn't have appreciated knowing that something else would have been able to sneak in through their wards. Not that Jack had been trying to do something like that. I hoped.
"So can you see where he had traveled to?" The image of him being sucked into the night and the night rippling toward me kept playing over and over. What was that and how did it happen?
I wasn't at all versed in Sylph politics and the movements of the other Remnant God tribes. Most of the things that weren't explainable in modern science the general public chose not to acknowledge.
I hadn't intended my question to be answered, but Lady Astara chose to answer anyway.
"It is hard to tell. It seems that even though the Mirror is a fixed point—the only thing that is keeping this room grounded—the room itself moves and shifts...hiding its location. A double blind. What a challenge after all." Astara looked pleased again. "How did Master Jack accomplish such a feat?"
"That's the thing. I don't think he did this on his own. I think he needed help. I'd assumed that he asked the Sylphs for help, considering...the history we've all shared."
"That was a great assumption, Lady Vesper," Astara said that like she was trying not to tell me that she thought it was the stupidest idea ever. "However, we are not the masters of straits, only navigators." She placed an emphasis on the 'we,' as if even though Sylphs weren't masters, there were others who were.
I guess that was her way of saying they didn't know how a car was built, only how to drive one.
"Perhaps Master Jack can solve the challenge." Astara looked around as
if she expected him to appear at any moment.
"Lady Astara, Jack has been taken." My voice broke and I couldn't continue.
"Taken? Well, take him back. Is that not what you want?"
She made it sound so practical. I started to laugh, hollow and despairing. She cocked her head at me like I was a curious thing.
"Detective Troy, what is wrong? Do we no longer want Master Jack around?"
"We do," Corbin said flatly. "That's why we're here. He's gone. We're trying to track him down, figure out where he's gone."
Lady Astara looked genuinely confused. Or at least what I assumed was confusion. She was rather transparent at the moment despite the stillness that settled around her.
"Has none of the Sylphs ever been lost or taken against their will?" I asked.
"No. Only those who have wanted to be taken."
"He didn't want to be." I described what I'd seen in Chinatown. "It was like the night came alive and wrapped itself around him."
Lady Astara flared brightly. She was no longer faded and still, nor was she a shimmering light that flickered out of sight with each slight movement. She was the intensity of live fire, undulating flames rippled around her, danced along her fingertips. "Where exactly did you see this?" she demanded.
With her concentration broken, we started free falling. Or at least that was the feeling, as the room tilted around us, clouds and stars swirled in the mirrors.
Vertigo threatened me, so I kept my eyes focused on Lady Astara, who had kept us positioned in the middle of the room still in our diamond formation.
"Uhm, what in the holy hell is going on?" Corbin said.
Lady Astara faced front again and the room righted itself. It's like she reined herself in, like a mom pulling over and parking her vehicle before turning around and yelling at the kids in the backseat.
When clouds and mists drifted in the mirrors, and we seemed stable in the midst of airy light, she rounded on me again. "Where?"
I was speechless. This incarnation of her was a sight. It was like she expanded, grew bigger, though logically I could tell that she hadn't. She just had more presence. Like she could be a comet hurtling through space.
