Three Dogma Night (The Elven Prophecy Book 3)
Page 12
“Why would she do that if she’s secretly hoping I’ll die before the trials are over?”
“Perception is everything,” Layla said. “The more you win, the more people are likely to be convinced you’re the chosen one.”
“But I don’t understand why she’d want them to think that,” I said.
“It’s a common strategy in war,” Layla said. “My father often gave the enemy, the giants, the impression they were winning even though he knew he had the advantage. That way, when he stole the victory in battle, it would be more psychologically devastating. If the enemy thinks they are going to win, their hopes are built up and then dashed again.”
“The result being they’re more hopeless than before,” I said.
“Exactly,” Layla said. “Maybe she’s building you up just to strike you down. Let the cultists think you are the last hope for humanity, then the moment they start to think we have a chance to defeat my father’s legions, you’ll be killed. That way, you never were the chosen one. Give them the idea that there was never any hope.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “That’s an elaborate hoax. It’s much riskier to do that when they could already have seen me killed.”
“The Elf Gate Cult has a tall order,” Layla said. “To convince the US government and the rest of the world to simply turn over control to my father. If all of them see you fall…”
“So, you think that Aerin is playing the long game?” I asked.
“Possibly,” Layla said. “The drow are elves. If they think that my father’s victory is an inevitability despite the prophecy, wouldn’t it make sense to work with him from the start?”
“But they have a prophecy,” I said. “They seem to be pretty convinced about it.”
“Do we know that for sure?” Layla asked. “How do we know they’re telling the truth about that? My father could have told them what the prophecy said, and they thought they could drive a wedge between us by seducing you and making us think you have to marry her rather than me.”
“It would drive a wedge between us,” I said. “And your father certainly isn’t thrilled about our relationship.”
“Right,” Layla said. “All of this reeks of my father’s doing.”
“But we still don’t know for sure,” I said. “This is just a theory.”
“Think about it,” Layla said. “Ensley thinks the assassin might have been using an enchantment. The drow are superb enchanters. We don’t even know what they are capable of doing.”
“But Ensley also said he’d never seen anything like that before,” I said.
Layla took a deep breath. “Which is to be expected since the fae weren’t even aware the drow had been using enchantments all this time.”
“So, are you suggesting we don’t show for the next trial?” I asked.
“Not at all,” Layla said. “If that happens, they’ll suspect we’re on to them. Not to mention, every time you win one of these trials, you get stronger. We still need that magic to thwart the elven legion.”
Chapter Nineteen
No shift at the bar on Saturdays. It was busier, and well, I was still an amateur bartender. I could make most of the drinks, but I still had to check my mix cards, and I wasn’t especially quick about it. It was fine with me. I had no aspirations of climbing this particular career ladder or taking busier shifts.
I was grateful for that. Sure, I could have spent the day practicing magic. I could have done some yoga. But I needed sleep.
How could I sleep, though, when there was an assassin trying to take me down? You’d be surprised. Even when you’re under intense pressure, even if your life is on the line, there’s a point where your body just shuts down.
That’s where I was.
I just didn’t have any energy left. My head was pounding. It was only a matter of time before I’d start seeing double.
Assassin or not, if I didn’t get some sleep, I wouldn’t stand a chance against him if he came after me, not to even mention the fire elemental I was supposed to engage later that night.
Thank God for blackout curtains. It wasn’t often that I took daytime naps. I had gotten the curtains mostly to block car lights and such. Today, I was grateful I had them.
Agnus, surprisingly, curled up beside me. I’d half-figured he’d spend the day in front of the television, but it was comforting to have him at my side.
Layla was standing guard.
While watching Netflix.
Not exactly Netflix and chill. More like Netflix and get ready to fight.
It was a good time for her to catch up on her rom-coms and polish her bow. If she had to use it, heaven forbid it wasn’t shiny. That was the thing about Layla. She could kick ass if she had to, and she’d look amazing doing it.
I don’t think I had any dreams. None that I could remember, anyway.
I was just out.
That was why I was shocked when Layla came in and turned on the lights.
“What the hell?” I covered my eyes with my hands.
“Time to go to the cult building for the trial,” she said.
“Already?” I asked. “I just laid down.”
“You’ve been sleeping for almost twelve hours, Caspar.”
“What?” I asked. “There’s no way!”
I reached over and grabbed my phone. Sure enough. It had been about ten in the morning when I laid down. Now it was five after ten in the evening.
“No sign of the assassin?” I asked.
Layla replied, “Nothing. But I almost finished a whole season of How I Met Your Mother.”
I shook my head. “Isn’t that the show with the redhead girl who went to band camp in the American Pie movies?”
“I think so,” Layla said. “I’ve only seen one of them, though.”
I snorted. “Would you believe I used to have a crush on her back in the day?”
“The girl from band camp? Seriously?” Layla asked.
“I think I still have the edition of Maxim magazine when she was on the cover. Somewhere on one of my bookshelves. I probably had a crush on her more because she was also in Buffy. I loved that show, too.”
“Haven’t seen that one yet.”
I smiled. “We need to watch it together. It’s awesome. At least, it used to be. You never know how older shows hold up over time.”
“It’s a date,” Layla said. “If you can keep your hands off me long enough to get through an episode.”
“No guarantees,” I said, getting out of bed. “I suppose we need to put that damn mustache on again.” Layla nodded and retrieved it from my dresser. Pulling it off the last time hadn’t been pleasant. I wasn’t thrilled about gluing the thing back on my still-tender upper lip, but it worked well enough, I suppose. No calls from Philip, my bishop, asking me about strange videos fighting water monsters. If he knew about it, I was reasonably certain I’d hear from him immediately.
I slipped on a pair of swim trunks.
“Why are you wearing those?” Layla asked. “You’re fighting fire, not water this time. I don’t think you have to worry about…”
“How do you fight fire?” I asked.
Layla’s eyes widened and she nodded. “Of course. With water.”
“Exactly,” I said. “It isn’t like I have any fire-retardant clothes. Probably something I should have tried to pick up today, but I thought sleep would serve me better.”
“I’m bringing my bow,” Layla said. “Just in case. I think we need to be prepared for anything.”
“Chances are, whoever the assassin is, he’ll be there.”
“Especially if he’s one of the drow,” Layla said. “Then we know he’ll be there.”
I nodded. “But don’t you think walking into the place carrying your bow will raise some red flags? You didn’t have it last night. Why bring it now?”
“Already thought of that,” Layla said. “I’m going to bring it and show it to Fred to see if he thinks he could forge me another one. As a blacksmith at the rena
issance festival, he crafts all kinds of weaponry.”
“Not a bad idea,” I said. “And your quiver?”
Layla shrugged. “Same thing. If we’re going to have to go to war eventually, I don’t think it would be strange to ask if he could make me some arrows, too.”
“All right,” I said. “If shit hits the fan, though, you need to come to me. I can port us out of there, but I won’t do it if you aren’t with me.”
Layla smiled. “We’ve got this, Caspar. Besides, I don’t think the assassin is going to move on us there. If you win, though…”
I cleared my throat. “When I win, you mean? If I don’t win, I won’t have to worry about him. You know, on account of being dead.”
“Not going to happen,” Layla said. “These trials don’t prove anything conclusively. And I still think the trials were invented by the drow as a trap.”
“I don’t know what to think,” I said. “We do need to be cautious. We can’t trust anyone, but we need to give Aerin the impression that we do. That we’re on her side.”
“No red flags,” Layla said.
“Exactly.”
Chapter Twenty
We took the Mitsubishi. I could have ported us there, but we were keen not to let the drow, not to mention everyone else, know I had fairy magic. Maybe they knew already, but they didn’t know I had a handle on it.
Brag’mok had taught me that in a fight, it was just as important to keep your strengths a secret as well as your weaknesses. If an enemy knows your weaknesses, they can exploit them, but if they know your strengths, they can prepare for them.
Layla concurred.
We were playing our cards close to the chest.
The crowd at the old church was probably twice the size it had been the night before. According to Jag, after the previous night’s broadcast, several of the cultists from the chapter in Washington, DC had booked a flight. They wanted to see the rest of the trials in person.
“What’s the deal with the hoodies, sunglasses, and masks?” I asked Jag.
“Politicians, I suspect,” Jag said. “Folks you might recognize.”
“Like, representatives?” I asked. “Senators?”
“Most likely,” Jag said. “I wouldn’t even be surprised if a few of them are part of the President’s administration.”
I snorted. “That’s insane. I can’t believe this little cult had garnered so much influence.”
Jag shook his head. “When you have elves who can wield magic, like Hector, how many people can you recruit?”
“I suppose that makes sense,” I said, looking across the room.
“There’s Fred,” I said to Layla. “Want to go show him your bow? Get that out of the way?”
Layla nodded. “You’ve got this, babe.”
“Thanks,” I said, giving her a quick peck. She moved across the room and took a seat next to Fred. Shocker. He’d saved the one next to him.
I know the guy helped us out with the Blade of Echoes, but he was getting on my nerves. He wasn’t a real threat, just kind of a buffoon. And he wasn’t the most attractive man in the world, so in terms of his flirtation with Layla, I didn’t have much to worry about. Even if he’d been Brad Pitt, I’m not saying Layla would have hooked up with him or anything. Layla loved me. I was secure about that. But him being exceedingly ordinary-looking, if not trending toward ugly, gave me a little peace of mind.
When you have a hot girlfriend, you just have to acknowledge that other men are going to give her attention. I didn’t have to like it, but it came with the territory.
I scanned the room again.
Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. The hand that touched me lingered.
I turned around.
Aerin was standing there, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. I was trying my best to remember there was a small chance this Jezebel wanted me dead.
I smiled back. “A lot of new people here.”
Aerin nodded. “I can’t say I’m thrilled by that. This Order has gained much influence in a short amount of time.”
I nodded. “I know what you mean.”
“Just make sure you win,” Aerin said. “With so many of them looking, the stakes here are higher than I anticipated.”
“I understand,” I said. “I have to survive, but we also have to convince this cult to take my side.”
“Our side,” Aerin corrected. “We’re in this together, Caspar.”
I nodded. Was she bullshitting me, or was she genuine?
“Any hints this time?” I asked.
Aerin raised her eyebrows. “I presume you’ve had a chance to get a handle on wielding the element of water?”
I nodded. “It’s not pretty, what I’ve been able to do so far. It isn’t exactly subtle.”
“We can work on refining your abilities later,” Aerin said. “But when you encounter fire, I don’t know that you can use too much water.”
I chuckled. “I just hope none of these politicians think they’re too good to get a little wet.”
Aerin shrugged. “Well, they all came from the swamp anyway, right?”
I smiled. “For someone who has been off the grid forever, you have a pretty good handle on American politics.”
“We’ve been in hiding, Caspar. But we weren’t living under a rock. We have televisions, and would you believe it, we even have the Internet.”
I laughed. “I suppose that makes sense.”
“You should probably get into position,” she said. “I’ll be around soon with the next elemental orb.”
I nodded and turned to go.
She pinched my butt.
I whipped back around with a shocked look on my face. “Aerin!”
The drow princess giggled. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist. It’s clear you’ve been working out.”
I grunted and looked at Layla. She was still talking to Fred. Thankfully, she hadn’t seen it. Was Aerin really into me? Her little grope could have been a part of the ruse.
One of two things was true: she either wanted to marry me or kill me. From my time doing marriage counseling in ministry, I knew that those two things went together more often than you’d expect.
I stepped into the stone circle.
A hush fell over the crowd. I wasn’t sure how many people were in the room. More than there should have been, considering a fire creature was about to appear.
Hopefully, everyone knew where the exits and the fire extinguishers were.
Aerin appeared, her two silent counterparts flanking her.
This time, she held the orb in her hands as she stepped into the circle.
“All of the elements,” Aerin declared, “both give life and take it. Without water, none of us would survive, yet few of the elements can destroy a city or a civilization more rapidly than it can. But our hero has subdued it, and the power of water now resides in him. Tonight, we encounter another element. The discovery of fire sparked the birth of civilization, but fire is likewise deadly. Even the great city of Rome was once consumed by fire. This city too once fell to that element.
“Very few have ever mastered both elements. For water and fire to cohere in a single person requires exceptional strength and a resilient constitution. The one chosen by the prophecy as dictated by Taliesin, according to the oral tradition that has been passed on by the drow across the generations, must balance all the elements.”
Oral tradition? I thought. These trials weren’t dictated by the prophecy but by oral tradition? Prophecies are hard enough to understand, but to put one’s faith in tradition? A sinking feeling settled into my stomach.
Why hadn’t Aerin told me I didn’t just have to subdue fire, I had to somehow balance it in my spirit or my body or wherever the hell I was holding these elemental powers?
Aerin had had time to talk to me about that. She could have said something, given me a clue about how to hold onto fire without the water that was already a part of me extinguishing it.
Apparently, there was now a third possible out
come. Maybe I wouldn’t die, and I wouldn’t prevail. I’d beat the element but fail to absorb it. I’d fail the prophecy and live.
I suppose if that happened, I would not be a threat anymore. Maybe the assassin, who wanted me dead, would lay off. Not the worst outcome.
But it would also leave me without the power I would need to face the legion.
Part of me thought I could just drown the elemental out the moment it appeared. Be done with it. Move on with my life, and with Layla’s help, find some other way to kick her father’s ass, or his and his army’s collective ass. What the hell is a collective ass, anyway?
My brain is a strange place to be sometimes.
But who was I kidding?
I had to face an elven legion, one that could wield all five elements. I needed the ability to counter each of them. I needed fire as much as I needed water.
Aerin raised the orb high so everyone could see it.
She was wearing gloves. I expected it was hot as hell.
Inside the globe, it looked like a small inferno was raging.
Not sure how it could burn in that thing without oxygen.
This wasn’t common fire, though. It was fire itself—the elemental, the spirit behind the energy that is fire.
Aerin dropped the orb, and it shattered into a million pieces.
I braced myself and brought the spirit of water to the surface… I started gathering all the water I could from the air.
But the elemental didn’t form into a single blazing creature as the water elemental had.
Instead, it divided into a thousand tongues of fire.
I imagined it must’ve been like that at Pentecost in the book of Acts.
But these flames weren’t dancing over people’s heads, giving them the ability to speak in different languages.
They were swirling around me.
A giant water blob like the one I’d made at the stadium might not cut it. If I released it and it hit the ground, it might extinguish some of the flames.
I wasn’t sure what else I could do, though, other than form the blob and force it to hit the ceiling. If I dropped in on the floor, the water would scatter, but if it burst on the ceiling. It would make it rain. Sort of.