Last Call

by Lloyd Behm II

  On the second day, we added a second set of ball machines, doubling the number of balls hitting at any one time to eight. Fred took everyone out to the range, then put them through a drill or two in the shoot house. I was watching the monitor when Call of the Sun came in.

  “Foreman, do you have a moment?” he asked.

  “Please, Elder, join me. Although all I have to offer by way of refreshment is water,” I apologized.

  “Water is fine, Blue Bird,” he said with a wry smile. “Are my people thought that effete by the other races that we would balk at simple water?”

  “There is an image in the zeitgeist that your people prefer the finer things,” I said. “Fine weapons, fine food, and fine drink.”

  “Yes, well, there are many of my folk, especially in the European Enclaves, about whom that is true,” he admitted. “Particularly in the generations raised since the humans’ last great wars ravaged the continent.”

  “Your people did not participate in those wars, correct?”

  “Yes and no. We did not interfere in human affairs, that is true. However, we did help some to escape the genocide of that Austrian madman,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “We did far too little far too late, and it affected our relationships with the political entities around our Enclaves.”

  “That saddens me, Elder,” I said, bowing my head.

  “Yes, well, it was that failure that helped me to convince the ruling Councils that we needed to send assistance to Master Stellus,” he said, sipping from a water bottle. “That and several seers at different Enclaves reporting the same vision, simultaneously.”

  “Coincidence is a dirty word,” I said.

  “That is an ancient elvish saying. Although it is much more…flowery in the Fair Tongue,” he said with a laugh.

  “Jesse will be glad to know that the elves think along similar lines as he does,” I said.

  “Tell me of this husband of yours,” Call of the Sun said, “as he may be the linchpin upon which creation rests.”

  “He is, in the end, human, with all the contradictions that entails,” I said, thinking a moment. “When I first met him, I was shocked that a priest was capable of such casual blasphemy.”

  “How did he explain it?”

  “He was a Marine before becoming a priest,” I said.

  “The American Sea-Soldiers?”

  “Yes, although it is something more than that. Jesse explained the difference between Marines and soldiers thus—only Marines are called by the name of their branch of service.” I paused to drink before continuing. “It affects their outlook.”

  “I do not understand. It must be a human thing,” Call of the Sun said.

  “I was also confused,” I said. “I thought upon it, and finally asked him, is it because in carrying the name, Marines also carry the honor of the name?”

  “Now I see.”

  “Do you? Because there are good Marines and horrible Marines, but they are all Marines, and would die for one another. Jesse has transferred that allegiance to QMG broadly, and to his team specifically.”

  “Which is why his team would enter hell with him?”

  “Which is why his team would enter hell for him. Without him even asking,”

  “Your husband must be special,” Call of the Sun said.

  “No more so than you,” I replied. “Will you force Golden Circle to return to a life where she has no power over her own destiny?”

  “How did you…yes, you were there at the party for her twin’s birth,” he said. “I am hoping she will be able to find her way here in America when this is done. If she is unable to do so, the Council has recommended she be shunned by our people.”

  Shunning was the worst punishment, short of death, the elves had. If an Enclave Council voted to shun an elf, it meant removal from elf society—any elf of any other Enclave could kill the shunned one and not start a series of reprisal raids.

  “Are things truly that bad?” I asked.

  “She…she spent far too long amongst humans, Blue Bird. She even studied amongst them before the Second Great Human War. I believe her experiences during that war did not help her to learn to be a ‘proper’ elf by our standards,” he said. “She was one of the first of our people to take up arms against the forces of the Austrian Madman. They captured her and, thinking she was human, they tortured her.”

  “Thinking she was human?” I asked.

  “Yes, she was travelling under a glamour, and it did not break while they were torturing her. Her brother led the rescue team and personally took the head of the Gestapo officer in charge of Golden Circle’s torture, but the damage was done.”

  “You do not have to explain if you do not wish,” I said.

  “You will be leading her into combat, Foreman. You will need to know the things that might cause her to freeze,” he replied. “They destroyed her ability to reproduce, Foreman. Her brother would indulge her abilities as a researcher and worker of magic, but the staid old Elders of the Council only see a useless mouth.”

  “No healing magic would restore her?”

  “No. They burned her uterus,” he said in a cold, dispassionate voice. “They inserted electrodes into her and burned her until it was beyond the skill of any healing mage to repair. She was helping Jews to escape France into Spain. For the crime of helping Untermensch escape the German pogrom, they destroyed her only value to her society.”

  His voice was dispassionate. The tears running down his face were not.

  “I am but a single voice among my people. There is only so much I can do to change our culture. My daughter, powerful though she may be, has offended the Elders of the Council far too many times for them to ignore her crimes any longer, so I must appeal to strangers in a strange land for aid.”

  “I am certain we can do something for her,” I said. “American elves are not as…restrictive in their practices toward females as your people.”

  “Yes, I have hopes there, as well,” he said. “Would you like to rest? The computer is monitoring the test; you can be certain I will not try to make her results look better than they are.”

  “I don’t believe you would do that were the computer not monitoring,” I said, suppressing a yawn. “Humans aren’t the only ones with the concept of honor, after all.”

  I found one of the cots and lay down. The only thing I can remember about my dreams is that I saw Jesse as an old man, with his first wife…

  * * * * *

  Chapter 25 – Jesse

  “What do you think they did with Butler’s body?” Warren asked the next time we gathered for a meal.

  “No telling,” I replied. “But if they offer us any meat, I wouldn’t take it.”

  “You’ve got a point,” Townsend said. He was taking Butler’s death hard—he’d kept him alive for days only to lose him now.

  We could see figures moving in the guard station. Someone was watching us.

  “What do you think they want?” Warren said, hooking a thumb at the figures there.

  “Not a clue,” I said, giving them a big, cheesy grin and making the sign of the cross at them, left handed.

  It worked. They fled.

  “Probably minor daemons or devils,” I said. “Major ones wouldn’t have fled that half-assed thing I just did.”

  The door to the cellblock unlocked, and Abzu walked in, followed closely by what I can only describe as a blonde Satan. Tall, blonde, and athletic, with a perfectly trimmed van Dyke.

  “Who the hell is that?” Warren asked.

  “You’ve probably got part of it right; that’s probably Hell’s representative in this little game,” I said.

  “Salazar, so nice to finally meet you,” the blonde said. “Well, in person anyway.”

  Jesus Christ, even his teeth were perfect.

  “Oeillet? I hope you don’t mind if I refuse to shake hands,” I said.

  “You’ve met this guy before, Jesse?” Warren asked, looking askance.

  “Not really,”
I replied. “I forced him to stop abusing a pair of his followers a year or so ago, and then Father Miller destroyed an artifact of his.”

  “Yes, that is essentially correct,” Oeillet said. “Where is Father Miller, by the way? I owe him something special for destroying that object.”

  “Honestly? Last time I saw him, a group of exorcist commandos of the Church’s Knights of St. Quintus had his back. I doubt seriously even the diabolic prince of greed could get past them.”

  “You never know,” Oeillet replied, then turned to Abzu. “I see what you mean about this one. Someone or something is watching over him, even here.”

  “Yes,” Abzu said. “Which of you is called Townsend?”

  I guess he’d never seen any version of Spartacus.

  “I’m Townsend,” I said.

  “You are not,” Abzu replied. “Continue in your silliness, and I will show you what pain is.”

  “Oh, please,” I said. “You only know my name because I’m the one who killed that fucking beast of a wife of yours. You should probably be thanking me for that. I mean, an udder? I get liking tits, but man, that’s a bit kinky, even for me.”

  “You will be silent!”

  “Or what? You going to send me to Akkadia? Been there, done that, got the T-shirt, you third rate incarnation of chaos.”

  “Silence!” Abzu screamed, stepping forward and swinging a stone-headed mace that materialized in his hand. My right hand moved on its own, blocking the blow, the splint disintegrating.

  “What are you doing?” Abzu asked.

  I crushed the mace; stone spattered the walls.

  “Abzu, enough,” Oeillet said, dusting the front of what would have been a five-thousand-dollar suit on Earth. “Using your power in this way weakens you when you need it most. Whatever is protecting him will be at its nadir later.”

  “Yes, true,” Abzu replied. “Know this, mortal; I will have my revenge on you. Townsend, whoever you are, I wanted to commend you on your failure to keep your comrade alive.”

  He ruined his dramatic exit turn complete with cape flourish when he stumbled over a piece of mace head.

  I waited until the door locked behind them to collapse. The pain was not quite enough to make me pass out, but Jesus, Mary, and Joseph it was close.

  “Are you fucking insane?” Townsend asked, while Warren ran for the first aid kit.

  “Probably,” I replied, looking at the ruin that was my hand. Abzu’s mace had destroyed it. “Huh, I never realized human flesh would turn purple.”

  “I’m going to have to do something about that,” Townsend said, digging through the bag. “Good. Jesse, look at me a minute.”

  “Sure thing, Doc.”

  “Your hand is fucked. So is your arm at this point. I can save your life, but…”

  “But you’re going to have to take the hand?” I asked.

  “More like everything below the elbow. The only thing stopping you from turning into a gangrenous zombie at this point is the cuff from the splint you were wearing.”

  “Good thing I wipe my ass with my left hand,” I said with a weak smile. “Do what you need to do, Doc.”

  “Warren, give me a hand here—this’ll be easier if he’s on a table.”

  They lifted me into place, and Townsend laid out what he needed to work with.

  “How’re you going to do this?” I asked.

  “I’ve got a couple of those ‘special’ tourniquets Sola came up with after he watched 127 Hours,” Townsend said. “I’m going to put it on you, let it do its thing, seal the wound, and pump you full of antibiotics and healing potions.”

  “You’ve got a healing potion?”

  “No, not really. I’ve got a couple bags of saline, though.”

  “Close enough,” I said.

  The tourniquet really was special—it sealed the major blood vessels while it cut through the flesh, and then neatly sealed the bone as well. Although, if I ever saw Sola again, I was going to complain about the grinding noise it made. When it was finished working, Townsend swathed my arm from the stump to my arm pit.

  “That should do it,” he said, easing me into a bunk in a cell. “I’m going to hang the bag here so it’ll drain into you.”

  “No worries,” I said. “I think there was something in that tourniquet you used.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “The little sprites that are dancing about your face,” I replied.

  “That’s not the tourniquet, that’s the morphine,” he replied. “Get some sleep.”

  I dreamed of Diindiisi…

  * * * * *

  Chapter 26 – Diindiisi

  At the thirty-six-hour mark, we added the last four ball machines into the mix—balls were now randomly striking Golden Circle from every direction, and she sat there, calmly, the light bright and steady from the spell.

  “Is she reading?” I asked, looking over Call of the Sun’s shoulder.

  “Yes. Is there a problem with that?”

  “No,” I replied, watching a ball pass through her book to strike her on the chin. “Is she casting two spells at once?”

  “Yes,” he answered, a father proud of his daughter’s accomplishments.

  “I have a question,” I said, watching the screen.

  “If you want to know if Speaker and Sharp Blade know her gender, the answer is yes,” he replied. “Speaker has been in my following for over a thousand years, and I trust his son Sharp Blade with my life. Had things turned out differently, we would have cemented the alliance of our families with a marriage, conventions be damned.”

  “Do we have to keep her secret from the team, then?”

  He took his chin in his hand for a moment. “I would prefer we ask her first. While I am her father, it is not my decision to make.”

  “I can understand your decision,” I said.

  Osbourne came into the salle d’armes, carrying a cell phone.

  “Ms. Diindiisi, a call for you,” he said.

  “I wonder why they didn’t use my phone,” I said, taking his.

  “Because you’re not answering yours,” Jed said as I lifted it to my ear.

  I took mine out of a pocket.

  “That’s because the battery is dead,” I said. “Sorry.”

  “Can you cast a spell to locate Jesse now?” he asked.

  “I lack the components. I believe Call of the Sun could do it without using Jesse’s St. Michael medal, though, why?”

  “We’ve lost contact with the team at the Shadow Lands location,” he said. “The assault team we sent in to check on them can’t get past the opening in Beaver’s Cave. Something’s collapsed the cave on the other side.”

  “I’ll talk to Call of the Sun and see if I can track down a charger,” I said. “Hold one.”

  “Roger.”

  I lowered the phone, hitting mute.

  “Osbourne, I need a phone charger,” I said. “Mine’s in my other gear.”

  “Yes’m. You can also keep that phone for now. The passcode is zed, zed, and zed.”

  “Thank you. Call of the Sun, I think we are going to need to stop the experiment for now. Something has come up.”

  “You need a spell cast, I believe?” he asked.

  “Yes, we need to do a search for Jesse.”

  “I will need an object and, hmm, a map of the planes. I believe Golden Circle has one of those with her.”

  I unmuted the phone. “Jed, we’re going to cast the spell on this end. What then?”

  “Get back in touch with me when you’re done. We’ve started operational planning, but there’s too many contingencies at this point.”

  “Yes,” I replied, hanging up. I turned off the power to the ball machines.

  The steady chunk-chunk-chunk that had been in the background for the last thirty-six hours died.

  Golden Circle stepped through the plywood, agitation clouding her eyes.

  “We must speak,” Call of the Sun said, taking her to a far corner of the
salle.

  Fred approached, probably awakened by the change in noise levels.

  “Something up?”

  “Yes. They’ve lost contact with the team in the Shadow Lands, and Group is concerned that might mean something.”

  “I’ll wake everybody up,” he said.

  Call of the Sun and Golden Circle were having quite the discussion from the arm movements. Finally, they both approached.

  “Foreman,” Golden Circle said, dipping her head, one equal to another.

  “As you can see, my daughter has decided it will be easiest if she releases herself from her vow of silence,” Call of the Sun said.

  “Thank you for your trust,” I said as Golden Circle removed her balaclava.

  She snapped her fingers twice, the sounds as sharp and individual as pistol shots. The glamour making her appear male fell away. The changes were not great—the elvish race as a whole is slender and graceful. Her hips became slightly wider, and her chest slightly fuller. Beyond that, she was an elf dressed in tactical gear.

  “There have been some developments,” I said to the remainder of the team. Speaker’s eyes widened slightly when he saw Golden Circle standing there, but he held his peace. “I received a call from Jed. The access point to the Shadow Lands has been sealed.”

  “How?” Ori asked.

  “The caves leading from the portal were collapsed.”

  “Was the power of the Font weakened?” Padgett asked. He held an energy drink in one hand and a pastry of some sort in the other.

  “Jed didn’t mention that. He did say that the assault team they sent through to look for the team on the far side was able to enter the Crystal Ballroom, so infer what you will from that.”

  Those familiar with the Font nodded.

  “Foreman, may I ask a question?”

  “Yes, Tatsuo.”

  Her eyes were brimming with curiosity. “Who is that elf?”

  Her nose told her the answer, but she wanted to confirm it.

  “I am Golden Circle, daughter of Call of the Sun,” Golden Circle said, stepping forward. “I apologize for the deception, Mine Brothers and humans alike; however, due to the nature of elvish culture, it was required.”