Judgment of the Elders

by Gregg Schwartzkopf

  Trina introduced him to the others with a revelation. “Jess… Tanya… this is Cassandra. She’s the girl who put Peter Goodkin down in the hall yesterday.”

  The two other girls looked at Cass in awe. Tanya asked “What did he try to do?”

  “Um, he invited me to the senior lounge, but I turned him down. It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time.”

  Jess said “He’s cute and popular. A lot of girls would kill to be seen with him, but there are rumors. He hangs out with the Meeks Twins. The three of them might be behind a rash of incidents last year.”

  Trina began studiously applying herself to eating, but Tanya continued the thread. “Some freshmen girls had stuff happen. Like itching powder in gym clothes and fake blood spilled on their skirts so it looked like, you know, they were surprised by Mother Nature.”

  Cass nodded. “The Great Mother can be quite surprising.”

  Trina didn’t look up from her food, but she contributed to the conversation again. “Anyway, you were smart to avoid that boy. It’s about time somebody called him out, but he’s a vindictive brat, so watch your back.”

  Cass was a little confused by her vehemence. “Peter asked you to help me find the computer lab. I thought you were friends with him.”

  “Lord, no! He has some dirt on me and likes pulling my strings, but that’s the extent of our connection. Still, I’m not brave enough to tell him off in a public hallway. You’ve got nerve.”

  If Jess and Tanya were surprised by Trina’s admission, neither one showed it. Cass, for his part, assumed all teenaged humans had embarrassing facts in their backgrounds. “I only told him I was familiar with his methods and was disappointed that I couldn’t fall for them. I’m sorry if Peter used you badly, but at least you have your bad boy encounter behind you and can move on.”

  Cass’s direct approach to this subject left Trina momentarily flustered. “Um, I hope you’re right about putting the whole thing behind me.” She started blushing and refused to look up. “Still, I hope Peter doesn’t plot some revenge for you. Jess is right. He does have a history of picking on younger girls using his buddies, the Meeks Twins.”

  “What did he do to you?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, but I’ve also heard stories of things that happened to freshmen last year. It’s been all kinds of stupid stuff. Please keep your guard up.”

  Cass thanked Trina for the heads up. He was already paranoid about Grimel Kin and Esme so adding bullying seniors to the mix wasn’t a big deal. In fact, he resolved to replace Heartbreak with Bullied by Seniors on The List.

  Tanya nodded. “Additionally, I hear Amanda Lipton is after him and she’ll disembowel anyone who gets in the way. Besides, he just likes to flirt with freshman, but it never goes anywhere.”

  Cass indulged his curiosity. “Did he flirt with you two?”

  Jess coughed and Tanya got huffy. “No, but that doesn’t mean anything. He just didn’t get around to us.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting you weren’t worthy. I’m sure you will each find a shallow young man to make you miserable. Peter only picked on me because I asked him questions on my first day, so he thought I’d be confused and vulnerable. But I was just confused in general; not about boys. I can spot a phony a mile off.”

  “How?” the three girls asked simultaneously.

  Cass thought about his prior experiences with human women and sighed. “I used to hang out with a real big phony, back in Canada, and I learned all of his tricks.”

  Trina laughed. “You should teach a class.”

  “How do you three know each other?”

  Jess responded. “We’re all in the school orchestra. Tanya and I play flute and Trina is piano. Do you play an instrument Cass?”

  “I tried hammer-dulcimer for a while, but the lessons were tedious.”

  “What a novel choice. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen someone play a hammer-dulcimer. Maybe you could try some other keyboard and get into orchestra.”

  “I’m actually considering choir. I understand they are begging for members.”

  ##

  I was tempted to check on Peter’s whereabouts, but knew Cass would be going to chemistry lab with Rodger, so decided to stay focused on him.

  Four test tubes were lined up in a rack, each containing a different liquid.

  “So what are we doing again?

  Rodger patiently reiterated the teacher’s instructions. “We are testing for acidity and alkalinity, otherwise known as pH. We’re going to use two methods. There are these litmus paper strips that change color. The blue side turns redder in an acid. The red side turns bluer in a basic solution. There are better test strips available now, but the school’s budget restricts us to the old fashion kind.”

  Cass tried to follow. “So pH is centered on water because water isn’t acidic or basic… even though it is pretty basic. How can you get more ‘basic’ than water?”

  “Water is neutral. It has a zero pH value. One of these test tubes probably contains water. Anyway, the other test involves adding a drop of phenolphthalein to a solution to see if it turns red. That would indicate the presence of alkaline.”

  “And alkaline is the same as basic. Baking soda is alkaline and vinegar is acidic.”

  Rodger nodded. “That’s right. You’re catching on.”

  “Good, I’ve learned all I need to know about acids and bases. Can we go now?”

  “I’ll run the tests and you write down the results.”

  Cass saluted. “Yes Sir, Mr. Scientist Sir. Whatever you say.” He thought Rodger would laugh, but he got a stern look instead.

  “You think all of this is dumb, don’t you?”

  “No Rodger, I just think it’s outside my comfort zone. I’m glad there are people like you who understand it and study it. There wouldn’t be medicine or household cleaners or cosmetics without chemists. I’m not going to be a chemist.”

  “Okay, granted, but you are going to be a high school graduate, so please play along here and I’ll get you through chemistry.”

  “Very well. I will try to pay attention.”

  “By the way, how is Joan?”

  “She has a big bruise on her left shoulder, but that’s minor compared to the hairline ankle fracture. She’s in a cast. I don’t know for how long. I’ll see her tonight and keep you posted.”

  “Do you want company?”

  Cass smiled at him. “Maybe later in the week. Joan can only take sympathy in small doses. It’s kind of you to offer though. You’re a really nice guy Rodger.”

  “I guess… I mean, thanks for saying so. It’s just I haven’t given it much thought before.”

  “Don’t your friends think you’re a nice guy?”

  “Guys don’t say that kind of thing to each other. We complement each other with insults.”

  ##

  That evening Cass flopped down on the sofa next to his surrogate father. “What are we watching Jamil?”

  Jamil remained focused on the screen, utterly puzzled by the action. “It’s the Montreal Canadians against the New York Rangers in a game of hockey. Maggie assures me that an adult male from Canada would be familiar with this game, so I’m trying to figure it out.”

  “What are they all chasing?”

  “It’s a slippery little creature called Puck. They are trying to scare it into one of those two nets, but they never get the nets closed in time to catch it. This frustrates the players a lot, so they pound on each other periodically. Occasionally, one or more players get put in a penalty box for a few minutes. The penalty box is far more effective than either of the nets, so they should chase Puck in there.”

  Cass observed in silence for a few minutes until the network paused for a beer commercial. He turned back to Jamil. “As a Canadian girl, am I required to know about this?”

  “No, but it might be a father-daughter bonding moment.”

  “Are we looking to have one of those?”

  Jamil considered the question brief
ly. “I’m not if you’re not.”

  “Well, it was nice talking to you Jamil.”

  “Same here.”

  Considering he was Clan Speaker, Jamil could be pretty terse. His job involved presenting all Clan business to the Council of Elders for consideration and approval. The Clans competed to discover new magical knowledge or create impressive works of art. Alfarans had a lot of free time. They lived off the bounty of Nature without needing to till the soil and they lived very long lives. Intellectual pursuits were the main occupation. That’s why Cass got bored. That’s why he got into trouble.

  Cass wandered back upstairs and found Magolyn reading in her room. He knocked on the door jam and she nodded; indicating he should take a seat on the bed. She placed a tasseled ribbon in the book and put it aside.

  “Does Jamil really hate me?”

  “He just hates this assignment. He misses home and his regular routine. After a few moons, this will seem normal to him and he’ll be less grumpy. How are you doing?”

  “I’m… ” He waved a hand in the air aimlessly. “I’m adjusting, I guess. This started out like a game for me. I needed to get out it, or get through it, and back to my life. Then Joan got hurt and I feel responsible. I didn’t think any of these humans would start to matter this much.”

  “The Elders wanted you to see how vulnerable humans are. Their limited outlook dooms them to tragedy and they suffer because of it. They don’t need the Realm of Fae making their lives even more complicated.”

  “It goes beyond that Maggie. When I came here before, I tended to see all humans as part of one big, messed-up conglomeration. They were all nervous, struggling, and confused. They mostly thought money was the answer to their problems. I figured my influence would be a brief bright spot in any human’s bleak existence. But, I see now that every one of them has different problems, and some are worse off than others. I thought I could make Joan happier. Instead, I just got her hurt. That Grimel Kin was after me.”

  Magolyn got up from her chair and sat next to Cass on the bed. “Make sure Joan keeps wearing the bracelet. I’ll try to find Esmeralda and put an end to the tinkerer’s nonsense.” She paused and, like a real mother, hooked a finger under his chin bringing his focus onto her face. “It’s good that your developing sympathy for these poor, wisdom deprived creatures Cass, but be careful about getting too attached. After fifty moons you should return to the Realm in a new capacity.”

  “You mean a capacity other than Knight of Whiteleaf.”

  “There are many roles in Alfaran society Cass. Eventually, a new Knight would be appointed from the Clan anyway. You’ll find a new calling.”

  “Well, I’ve got several more moons to work it out.”

  ##

  I had no curiosity about Carla Petrone. It was not my intention to pry into her history, discover she had a degree in sociology or was raised Baptist in Virginia. All of this would be unknown to me if she hadn’t done an unusual thing. She entered Lucas’ shop and sat down at the table across from Esmeralda.

  “Good evening. Basic readings are five dollars and a more detailed divination is fifteen.”

  “You’re wearing my blouse.”

  Recognition suddenly dawned on Esme. This was the friendly, dark-skinned Christian woman. Recalling that humans could sometimes be violent, Esme maneuvered herself so the full diameter of the table blocked Carla from approaching any closer.

  Carla continued in a calm, measured tone. “So you are a thief and a con artist.”

  Esmeralda recovered herself enough to mount a defense. “I didn’t steal your clothes. I exchanged them for mine.”

  “That filmy piece of silk doesn’t fit me.”

  “Well, your clothes didn’t fit me either. You were going to give me an outfit anyway. I just didn’t know where to find it.”

  Carla raised her eyes heavenward and briefly prayed for patience. “I was having an asthma attack. You should have called a doctor instead of robbing me.”

  “Doctors make me nervous. You were going to call a doctor for me before you… started coughing. So I got what I needed and ran. I can pay you for the clothes now. I have a job.”

  “Bilking the locals with hoodoo?”

  Lucas came over behind Carla and put a hand on her shoulder. “Evening Preacher.”

  “Good evening to you, Heathen. Did you lure this lost lamb in here?”

  He shook his head. “We met by chance. She has a genuine gift.”

  Esme smiled at the praise, but Carla wasn’t pleased. “True prophesy is a gift of the Holy Spirit. If she’s been so blessed, this is the last place she should be practicing. More likely, she’s a clever huckster or, worse, being tempted with false prophesy by the Enemy.”

  “I’m very sorry you took offense at my exchange of garments. I am willing to reimburse you.”

  Carla rose and sighed heavily. “If a man steals your coat, give him your shirt also. I’ll take none of your money. Your tunic ended up in the donation bin. Some young, thin girl will make use it. I encourage you to abandon this path you’re on. God’s house is always open.” She looked back at Lucas. “Drag him along with you.”

  “Always a pleasure seeing you Carla.”

  “I’ll pray for you Lucas. Good night.”

  Esme found herself alone with Lucas. Other patrons, most uninterested in theological debate, had departed during Carla’s visit.

  “Don’t be upset Esme. Ms. Petrone can be quite intense, but she means no harm.”

  Esme was shaking. “Why does she care so much? She only met me once.”

  “Her faith tells her all people are God’s children, just as I believe we’re all connected in cosmic consciousness. My parents were good Episcopalians, but I felt a calling to something more, well, personal, I guess. Everybody looks at the vast unknown at one point or another and strives to find a place in it. We all want to be part of something bigger; share something with each other. Don’t you feel a connection to the people you read?”

  “Not really.”

  “Do you feel a connection to me?”

  A void opened in Esmeralda’s abdomen and her stomach tried to fall into it. She forced herself to smile and take Lucas’ hand. She couldn’t risk offending him or provoking his rejection. For better or worse, she’d come to depend on him, at least until she was done here. If only she’d avoided human entanglements from the start. She envied Caswel’s easy adaptation to these creatures and hated herself for that envy.

  She needed to find a means of turning Cass into a pariah so she could quit this Realm once and for all.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  In the wee hours of Wednesday, after all lights were out in the Richard’s house, I watched Wigout slink up to the front door and wedge a small sliver of wood into the button for the doorbell. The chimes began sounding repeatedly while the Grimel Kin climbed to the awning over the entryway.

  Soon, Mr. Richards emerged in bathrobe and slippers. He looked left and right before coming out to examine the button. The man cursed in a low voice about pranksters while Wigout slipped inside and concealed himself in the kitchen. There he waited until the man retreated upstairs and the house seemed quiet again. Taking things very slowly, Wigout climbed the steps and located the bedrooms. He found the young boy’s room first; retreating quickly to avoid rousing the child. His second attempt was successful, but the two occupants of the room were engaged in whispered conversation. Wigout curled into a tight ball in the hallway, waiting for them to quiet down.

  Grace propped herself up on one elbow talking to Joan, who was stuck lying on her back with the cast elevated.

  “Does it hurt a lot Joan?”

  “Only when I think about it, so don’t make me think about it. Go to sleep.”

  “Okay. Goodnight.” The pause was too short for Wigout to react. “Do you think Cassandra will become part of the family like Sam did?”

  Joan groaned. “Mom only made Sam an honorary member of our family because you have a mad crush on him.�
��

  “I do not have a crush on Sam. We just like a lot of the same stuff.” said Grace.

  “Is that why you kissed him?”

  Grace sat up in bed. “Tony Genovese double dared us. We had to, so it doesn’t count.”

  “Well, if I was double dared to kiss Cass, I wouldn’t, so I guess she won’t become part of the family.”

  “She just seemed nice, is all.”

  Joan rolled her head away from her sister. “Cass is nice, in a crazy sort of way. We’ll see what happens. Now go to sleep.”

  Wigout let silence stretch out for a long while before daring to move again. At last the Grimel Kin crept over to Joan’s bedside. Her glasses and one of those confounded digital clocks were on the side table. He also spotted the hated charm bracelet and positioned himself on the opposite side of the bed from it. That meant the girl was unprotected tonight. He drew forth a small bottle of clear liquid. Dream Dwellers knew this powerful formula as the Breath of Morpheus. Wigout inhaled deeply and held it before uncorking the vial. A fine mist filled the air above Joan as the liquid rapidly evaporated. Wigout moved swiftly to the door and quietly closed it before exhaling.

  He was done. Now he could leave this town, with its cross bearers and crazy Alfaran mages, behind him. He’d failed to collect more puzzles from the Mistress, but freedom was more important to him now. He waved at the bedroom door.

  “Pleasant dreams, human.”

  Wigout beat a hasty retreat from the house. His freedom seemed glorious as he tripped merrily down the main street in the direction of the nearest train station. Passing clouds muted the moonlight and the streets were empty of pedestrians. A few cars passed him, but he felt no fear of discovery. There was, however, one insomniac looking out a third story window who spotted the joyous Grimel Kin. This made for one more person I had to track.

  ##

  The school’s music room served as audition space for choir applicants. Sister Regina, Cass’s elderly homeroom teacher, served as choir director. Though her singing voice was less than melodic, she was a more than passable pianist. She relied on her senior singers to coach new members into adequate harmony at school events and weekly Mass.

  Rodger observed the auditions from a chair in the back of the room, providing moral support for Cass’s success, or failure, if that’s what his friend really wanted. Cass was beginning to doubt his own motives. He didn’t care if he joined the choir, so denial of entry would not bother him. The Elders would only accept true emotional consequences from Mortal humiliations. He considered backing out before his audition started, but then he opened and smelled his water bottle. The stinging aroma reminded him of chemistry lab. Suddenly, a new motive for singing presented itself.