by Baen Books
Bare Snow plunged on with her story. "While Wraith Arrow was attending the summit, Howling was assassinated. The leadership of clan fell to Longwind, who was barely out of his majority, but had already taken Otter Dance as his First."
"First what?" Widget asked.
"Hush!" Law cried. If they detoured Bare Snow with questions, they'd never get to the end. The damage, though, was done.
"Otter Dance's mother had been Perfection of the Wind Clan and her father Tempered Steel of the Stone Clan." Bare Snow clasped her hands over her heart and sighed. "Their love is epic. To know in a glance and word that this person shares your spirit." Another heartfelt sigh. "Their daughter, Otter Dance, she spent equal time between them, first at High Meadow Temple and then Cold Mountain. She and Longwind were childhood sweethearts. He thought his lot was like many young elves, to be unimportant in the grand sweep of things. His elders never growing old; his time never coming. He let his heart lead him to take Otter Dance as First despite the fact that her father had been Stone Clan. It was his willingness to look beyond bloodlines that made the sekasha choose him as Clan Head. Pure Radiance had stated that the only way our future could be secured was by close alliance between the clans. Ashfall's first act as king was to call together the heads of the clans and offer up his children as royal hostages, disguised as unions of alliance."
"Eww!" Usagi cried in disgust at the idea of using children as tools.
Law was losing track of who was who. "Longwind is the Viceroy's father?"
"Yes. He took King Ashfall's daughter, Flame Heart as his domi." Again with the hand clasped over the chest and the deep, heartfelt sigh. "It was love on first sight. They had ten children! Can you believe it? Most people don't even have one! The Viceroy is the youngest and the only one that can use both esva. He was given a very blessed name, Wolf Who Rules, foreseeing that he would hold all of the Westernlands."
Law thought the whole naming scheme was a load of crap if it cursed one baby and blessed another. "I still don't see how this relates to someone trying to kill him."
"The sekasha see truth like a coin; either something is true or it is a lie. Heads or tails. They do not realize that truth is like an onion—it has layers within layers. Because of that, they can be blinded to a rotten core by an unblemished shell."
Widget started to say something about onions not having a shell and Law smacked her.
"Stay on target," Law growled. "Who is trying to kill the viceroy?"
"When Howling was assassinated, the sekasha were furious that someone had gone against their decree of a truce while they were gathered at Burning Mountain. The question was: who?"
Law attempted to jump forward in time because she knew that Windwolf was several hundred years old. If Bare Snow was retelling how his parents met, she could be talking all night. She guessed that the assassination of his grandfather must be related to current events in Pittsburgh. "The same people that killed Howling are going to try to kill Windwolf?"
"Yes!" Bare Snow cried with delight.
"So—" Law tried to backtrack through the long story. If Bare Snow had named a suspect, Law lost hold of the detail in the flood of information. "Who killed Howling?"
"This is where the onion starts to peel. Rumors surfaced that a warlord by the name of Tornado might have used a Wind Clan household of trained assassins as a bid for clan head. The sekasha easily found evidence that he'd hired them. Tornado's sekasha executed him and put a warrant out on the Wind Clan assassins who had fled into hiding. They were hunted down and killed, one by one."
"But he was actually framed?" Law asked.
"Framed?" Bare Snow tilted her head in confusion.
Law winced. The word apparently only meant "surrounded with wood" in Elvish. "The evidence was false."
"In a manner of speaking. Someone lied to a laedin-caste male. After the laedin had passed on the lie as truth, he was killed so it seemed as if he was murdered to silence him. This is the rotten core: the assassins were told that under no conditions would Howling ever bow to a king put in place by the sekasha. If another clan head was raised up above him, Howling supposedly planned to kill all the Holy Ones in one massive attack. As domana, Howling had the power to do so. The sekasha's shields cannot protect them from the full brunt of a domana offensive spell. Howling would become what we fought a thousand years to wipe off the face of the planet. No sane person would allow him to go unchecked. That lie, however, was then wrapped in truths. We were in the middle of a war. The assassins could not kill Howling without someone prepared to step cleanly into the void. They chose Tornado to be his successor and then planted the seeds of ambition. He was a proud elf; it was required to make Tornado believe it was his idea. Thus, when the sekasha sought evidence of Tornado's crime, they found it. It was true. At least, on the surface."
Law packed the boxes she'd built while trying to understand Bare Snow's logic. The Wind Clan assassins had killed Howling but they'd been tricked into doing it. While they fled into hiding as wanted criminals, the mastermind remained in place.
Bare Snow's mother had been alone on a deserted island when her parents met.
And her mother had been killed when she returned to Winter Court.
This wasn't some epic story of legendary figures; it was the story of Bare Snow's family and how they were connected with the Viceroy. Elves don't lie; at least the honorable ones didn't. If it had been an utterly random Water Clan female behind the white door in Fairywood, she could honestly proclaim her innocence, and most likely be believed. Bare Snow had been sent halfway around the world to be in Pittsburgh for this Shutdown. Her cursed Wind Clan name and her Water Clan appearance would lead to questions about her parents. Once her mother's identity was known, Bare Snow's very presence would be damning. It would seem as if she was taking vengeance for her mother's household.
Her family had taken the fall once for the real killer. Obviously someone hoped that it would work again. Considering everything, yes, the trap's intended victim most likely was Howling's grandson.
Law glanced at the kitchen clock. If they left now, they could get to the Rim and warn the Viceroy before the border was closed. They only had a few hours left; Pittsburgh was returning to Earth at midnight. All the elves—and only the elves—remained on Elfhome during Shutdown.
But what would she tell Windwolf? If the assassins had known who had set them up, they would have exacted revenge.
Think, Law, don't just react. That's how you get yourself shit-deep into messes.
This was world-level politics, hundreds of years, if not thousands, in the making. She was just a forager, fishing and hunting for a living because it meant she didn't have to deal with the petty politics of a normal business. And really, the only reason she was involved was Crazy Lady had randomly dialed her phone number and sent her on a fool's errand that only Law would be stupid enough to do. Bare Snow was safe. The Viceroy was surrounded by the best warriors of Elfhome.
There was the sudden thunder of small feet.
"Law! Law! Aunt Babs says the baby—the baby has shoulders or something—she needs your help now!"
It was "shoulder dystocia" and it meant Law needed to lift Clover from the birthing pool and get her onto her knees with the baby already crowned. Emergency calm kicked in, letting Law deal with the scared Clover while Babs focused on the baby.
Usagi might be an organized general in business crisis and she could calmly deal with hordes of cranky children, but blood and pain? It rattled her. She became a little neurotic yap dog, barking out useless orders. It was not what either Babs or Clover needed.
Meanwhile, Bare Snow got an unintentional education on the whole childbirth process. Afterwards she gazed wide-eyed at the pointy-ear infant. "So that's where they get them."
"Yes, all of them," Law said.
Down in the kitchen, there was a sharp squeal.
"What the hell?" Law hurried downstairs.
Widget was sitting with hands over her mouth, as if to hold i
n another scream. She lifted her hands long enough to whisper, "Sorry" and then clapped them down over her mouth again. Her stare was locked onto her computer tablet.
"What's wrong?" Law leaned over her shoulder to see what was on her screen. It was a very handsome white man. His hair matched the very exact honey blonde that Bare Snow described. The database identified him as Andre Brousseau, a diplomat from France employed by the EIA as a customs inspector. Law picked up the tablet and showed it to Bare Snow. "This him?"
"Yes!" Bare Snow cried.
Law turned back to Widget. "You know him?"
"You remember I told you originally I was going to come across the border with another girl? Her screen name was Strawberrie. She never told me her real name. We'd met on this site called Jell-O Shots. It’s a forum for fans of the Adventures of Soulful Ember videos. We both wrote Prince Yardstick fan fiction—although she shipped him with Wraith Arrow and I thought that was a total eeewww…"
"Focus, Widget."
"We emailed back and forth for like a year, talking about how to get to Elfhome. We didn't meet up in person until I got to Cranberry. I thought it be safer to cross with someone else, but when I met her, I could tell within minutes that she had no common sense at all."
This was from someone who'd swam the Ohio River at night in the middle of winter.
"What does this have to do with Andre Brousseau?"
"She'd told me that she knew someone who knew someone who could get us across the border for a thousand dollars. When I got to Cranberry, she took me to this creepy looking house and there were these really hot looking guys there." Widget pointed at the screen. "He was the boss of the guy that Strawberrie contacted. They had these coffinlike boxes and they were going to crate us up and supposedly get us across the border. That was until Mr. Brous—Br-ous—Mr. Fancypants actually saw me. He got all prissy about the fact that I'm black. He actually used the N word! I never heard anyone actually say it before outside of history class." She must have come from an extremely well to do neighborhood then. "And Strawberrie was all 'I didn't know she was black!' instead of telling him to piss off. And what difference did it make? Unless of course he only wanted some white girl to do who knows what with. As you would say: it felt hinky. So I said I had to pee and then went out the bathroom window. I called 911 and then ditched my phone. I thought she'd be better off arrested than left alone with those guys."
Law knew some of the people that smuggled illegal immigrants across the border. They were all native-born Pittsburghers who drove delivery routes during Shutdown. There were ones she knew she could trust, but then even they risked being deported. Trust went two ways. "Do you know what happened with your friend?"
Widget shook her head. "It didn't make any of the news feed. I don't know if the police actually did anything. I never heard from her again. I was hoping that she changed her screen name and was ignoring my posts because she was pissed at me. I used the name Elderberry Wine. Elderberry. Strawberrie. Our names were why we started to chat in the first place."
Law gazed at Andre Brousseau's photo. He had that impossible beauty that all the elves had but his ears were visible. They were definitely round. "Bare Snow, are you sure he's an elf? His ears aren't pointed."
"The Skin Clan made our ears that way so they could tell at a glance who was a slave. It was the first change they made once they realized that we'd become immortal. It means he's a very old elf," Bare Snow said. "His speech pattern says he's thousands of years old. After the rebellion started, the world went into chaos. We were divided into three groups. The Skin Clan and their loyal servants. The slaves that took up arms against them. And all the others fled from both."
An ancient elf pretending to be French man. A possible kidnapper. A would-be assassin.
"How many 'men' were working for him?" Law asked Widget.
"There were like eight at the creepy house."
A call to the Cranberry police concerning people trying to cross the border illegally would have been diverted to the EIA. Andre worked for the EIA; it was possible that all Widget succeeded in doing was alerting him that she was no longer locked in the creepy house's bathroom. It also meant that Law couldn't contact the Pittsburgh Police about an attack on Windwolf. They'd turn the matter over to the EIA since it involved elves. If Andre had arranged for Bare Snow to be diverted to Pittsburgh from halfway around the world, Law was sure that he had someone covering the EIA dispatch to inception any such calls. Law would bet her Dodge on it.
The problem was that if the shit hit the fan, Brousseau could and probably would start a manhunt for Bare Snow. Enough people knew that she was in town; he'd start the search with "probable cause" and make sure that she didn't survive capture.
"We need to get a step ahead of Brousseau. We have a name now." She leaned forward to check the listing. It gave an EIA office as his address. "Bastard. Can you print me a copy of this?"
"Going to the police with it?"
"No, the elves."
"Someone in Howling's household betrayed him," Bare Snow said. "We were never sure who, but the false information that the laedin-caste male had could have only come from someone close to him. Windwolf has gathered most of his grandfather's household. Anyone of them—except the sekasha—could have betrayed Howling."
Which meant going to the enclave could take them face to face with the traitor.
"So we waylay Windwolf. Chili said he was at the… oh shit!"
"What?"
"He's at the airport." Law leaned over and pulled up a Pittsburgh Map. "The only reasonable way to get to the airport is the I-376. If he took the Exit at Route 60, follow it to here, turn at Woodmere Drive and again at Roswell Drive and he's in the trap. Three turns."
"That's still really out of the way…" Widget protested.
"Route 60 is one of the few roads in that area that still has all its bridges. We're almost to Shutdown. The highways are going to be filling up as people start lining up at the checkpoints so they can be sure to get across the border this cycle."
"So this starts with him looking for an alternate route back from the airport?" Widget started to tap madly on her tablet. "Oh! Blast it all! We have to stop this! Prince Yardstick is the bomb!"
Law growled softly. "The problem is that the elves don't use phones. If I want to talk to the damn enclaves, I have to drive out there and knock on the damn door. That will take me the wrong direction through all of the Shutdown madness downtown. If I start driving around, hoping that I can run into him and then get him to stop without getting cut down by the sekasha…"
"Wait. Wait. Wait." Widget murmured and then flung her hands up into the air and wiggled her fingers. "Muhahahahaha!"
"Is that supposed to be good or bad?" Law asked.
"I have done magic!" Widget gave the evil laugh again. "It's a little known fact that all cars sold in Pittsburgh—with the exception of antique vehicles like your Dodge—still have anti-theft GPS systems. Little known because the city is stuck in the last century, technology-wise. Really—I cry at night for the Internet of Earth. I miss it so."
"What is it? This anti-theft whatever."
"My point exactly." Widget ducked, grinning. "Simply put, the United States managed to get into the treaty that they could have a handful of satellites up in Elfhome space. They're all hush-hush about it. It's all part of 'Pittsburgh is still an American city' brouhaha that they're fighting over in the UN. Since they're American, the satellites aren't under EIA-control. Nor can the local police access it."
"Why the hell not?"
"No idea. Probably politics. The University of Pittsburgh, though, has access to them and their security is full of student-made backdoors. Voila!" She held up her tablet to show off a bunch of dots moving on a map.
"And that is…?"
"Our mystery SUV! It's in… Fairywood. Where's that?" She turned the tablet back and zoomed out. "Oh, down stream, our side of the river."
"And those other dots?"
"Um." She
put down her tablet to tap on it again. "This one is BAS-0002." She read off one of the identifiers and crosschecked it. "It's also EIA UPU vehicles. It looks like they have a whole fleet out in Fairywood. Four at least. Acting weird. They're like ants; crawling around aimlessly."
"They're grid searching," Law said. "Can you pull up the Viceroy's cars?"
The elves had a small fleet of the big gray luxury cars for Windwolf and Sparrow's exclusive use. Normally they were kept in Poppymeadow's coach houses when the Viceroy wasn't in town.
"Let's. See." Widget closed the window and pulled up a database. She searched for information faster than Law could follow. "Yes, they do have anti-theft systems. Oh. Oh. Blast it all!"
A lone Rolls Royce sat motionless in Fairywood, the EIA cars prowling around it like a pack of wargs. This wasn't one lone nutcase elf posing as a human; this was some secret alliance of evil. The other Rolls Royces milled about in Oakland, obviously looking for their lost leader in the wrong place.
"They screwed up their hit on the Viceroy." Law watched the markers on the screen move. It was fairly easy to read the activity on the screen since she knew the design of the trap. "He's on foot; running for his life. They probably have people chasing him." She remembered the dogs barking in Fairywood. "Or dogs. Yeah, probably dogs. They're forcing him toward the river." There were only a handful of bridges across the Ohio River and the waters were full of man-eating fish. "The cars will close in from either side, like the jaws of trap."
"Something has changed," Bare Snow whispered.
"What do you mean?" Law asked.
"They have stayed hidden for thousands of years, carefully keeping to the shadows. This is too bold a move. Something has changed."
"Well, someone has dropped a major human city onto the face of the planet."
Bare Snow was shaking her head. For the first time since Law found her, the female looked frightened. "They think they have the upper hand. They would not act so brazenly if they did not know they could quickly take control of all of the Westernlands."
