by Martha Carr
Patsy gave Lois a look, rolling her eyes. She never took it well when humans told her what to do, even though she’d been in a government job for years.
“Can we help you?” asked Lois, doing her best to ignore Patsy. She adjusted her glasses, giving her a moment to take in the four men who were busy doing variations on the Wonder Woman stance, hands on hips, their heads back, looking around the room.
“Do I smell pizza?”
Lois heard Patsy quietly say, “Never was…” and moved in front of her, glaring at her. “What if we need that again in just a minute,” she whispered, leaning over, pretending to pick something up so she could get closer to Patsy. “Save the big guns,” she hissed. “We don’t even know why they’re here!”
“Ladies,” said the diminutive General. “I trust all is well.” He gestured at the symbols.
Patsy mumbled a spell under her breath, making the symbols suddenly spin apart and swirl around the general’s arm, giving the distinct impression he had mucked up the system by getting too close.
Even Lois had a hard time not smiling. She ducked her chin down, pressing her glasses back up her nose, stealing glances at the general who looked flummoxed, even panicked. Lois gave Patsy another sharp look to get her to stop before the joke went on too long. Humans. They don’t have a very good sense of humor about themselves, thought Lois. Eventually they bring out weapons and these guys actually have access to an armory.
“Brahawa,” babbled the general, trying to get out words. He cleared his throat and squeezed his eyes shut. Patsy finally cut it out and let the feed restore itself, humming along over everyone’s head. The general opened his eyes and saw the feed was restored. He looked relieved. Lois gave him a reassuring smile.
“Can we help you?” she asked again.
He cleared his throat, again. So far, they weren’t making any progress. The men with him all shuffled their feet and looked around, not making eye contact with anyone. Patsy was smirking and saying nothing, letting them squirm. Meddling humans brought out the worst in her. She stuck her tongue out at Lois while no one was looking. Lois almost laughed but tried to cover it up, making a sound resembling a honk. Her face warmed as Patsy raised a few papers in front of her face, her shoulders shaking from holding in the giggles.
“Yes, yes,” the general finally said. “We are here to see what you have on a particular magical woman. A Detective Leira Berens. We understand she’s an unaffiliated magical person. Do you have a file?”
“A file?” asked Patsy, getting up from her chair.
“Oh great,” Lois muttered under her breath.
“No, but I can make you one?” Her question was just for show. She was already in mid-spell, moving her wand theatrically through the air. Lois took note that she started with ‘alakazam,’ not a spell, before finally performing actual magic.
The generals watched in awe as the screen split lengthwise and opened. Data poured from the opening, spiraling down, and into Patsy’s wand. She walked to the copier shoved against the wall, though not plugged in, and tapped her wand against the top of it, causing it to shudder and shimmy and roar to life. It began spitting out pages into four collated piles, which Patsy was happy to snatch up and hand out to the men. All of them stood there slack-jawed, barely able to take the papers from her.
Lois wanted to applaud. None of it was really necessary. They had everything on a drive and could have just handed that over to the general and let him download it later the old-fashioned way. But where was the fun in that?
“Thank you, ladies,” the general said nervously. Lois noticed the papers were shaking in his hand. The men all mumbled some form of thank you, and together they quickly shuffled back out of the room.
Lois waited a few seconds and then peeked out of the door to make sure they were far enough away.
“You should be more careful! One of these days they’re going to remember how fond they are of burning witches at the stake or dissecting aliens. We technically fit in both categories!”
“You and I were both born here. Calm down.”
“They rewrite what makes you an alien every other day, to suit their fancy!”
“Besides, if they did try we’d turn them into toads. Something old school. We were never in any danger. Bonus to all of this, they once again fear and respect us and will think long and hard before they ask for more information. I think we acted prudently.”
“You going to tell your cousin in the Order about this?”
“Already texted her. Done and done. If the government is looking for Leira Berens, the Order needs to warn her. We watch out for our own.”
“When we’re not arresting them ourselves.”
“Yeah, well, that’s another story.”
Chapter Six
“We all need to get out tonight!” Craig was eating nachos and swilling a beer.
“We are out,” Estelle croaked from the other end of the bar. She was busy giving a young couple at the other end of the bar two shots of tequila, telling them they didn’t really want martinis. Smoke swirled around her head, making it difficult to see her face.
“I mean go hear some music,” said Craig.
“You better slow down on those nachos, dude. Remember what happened the last time,” said Paul.
“Yeah, you went home and passed out, had acid reflux in your sleep, stood up, had an asthma attack and passed clean out. Your dog had to wake you up!” Margaret ticked off all the maladies on the end of her fingers. “Death by nachos is not what you want Facebook to say.”
“How would Facebook even find out?”
“I’d tell them,” said Mike.
“Yeah, me too,” said Mitzi. “That one would go viral, especially if we could get pictures.”
“Fine! I’ll slow down! Hey, Bert, you have my tube socks?”
Correk was carrying an old cardboard box stamped Del Monte Tomato Paste. It was overflowing with the tube socks balanced on the top. He was using his chin to keep everything inside of the box.
Leira followed him, carrying the Oreos.
“I see you have your priorities straight,” Paul said, taking the cookies from her. “Was there any change?”
“Paul!” A chorus went up from the group.
“What? Okay, okay, carrying fees. But was there?”
“Don’t answer him,” Mike ordered. Correk put the change on the bar.
“Ah, good man. You do know us!” said Paul, lunging toward the money to count it out.
“He knows you,” said Mitzi.
“Leira, we all want to go out tonight. You should come. We’ll go hear a little music down on 6th Street,” Craig said.
“Sure, why not.”
“What? I can’t believe it! You never say yes!”
“Unless you get Estelle involved. She’s hard to turn down.”
“Out of fear of the unknown.”
“I heard that!” Estelle emerged on top of her stool at the other end of the bar. “What’ll it be? Wait, don’t tell me. I have just the other thing.” She made a gin and tonic and plopped it down in front of the pretty blonde who looked down the bar like she needed help. “Anything else? You don’t look hungry,” Estelle informed her. “You got a friend needs a drink?”
“It’s like being faced with a gremlin,” Scott mused.
“She hears you, you disappear,” Mike said.
“Fuck, you become barbeque,” Margaret added.
“Dancing!” Craig said, changing the subject.
“I never agreed to that. I said I’d go along for the music. Does everyone have their supply of useless things from Costco?” Leira looked in the box to make sure it was completely empty.
“Tube socks are not useless. Even Bert wanted some.”
“What’s so great about them?”
Craig put a sock on his hand and demonstrated. “You get a hole on one side, you just turn it. Lasts four times longer than your ordinary sock.”
“That’s very sad, Craig. I feel for your wife
and kids.”
“Supporting a wife and kids is why I’m so practical.”
Correk whispered to Leira. “How long does this usually go on?”
“Until someone makes them stop.” Leira clapped her hands sharply twice and put her fingers to her lips and produced a high-pitched whistle. “Okay, who’s riding with us, because we’re out of here?”
“Hey, who whistled like that? Oh, Leira, well then,” said Estelle, turning around to go back inside.
“I told you she was Estelle’s favorite.”
“You’re just figuring that out? Do you have a card in your pocket that says where to send you home in case you’re found alone? That might be a good idea.”
Leira headed resolutely toward the gate with Correk right behind her. “I take it they eventually follow you.”
“Most of the time. Some get left behind on occasion but they learn.”
Craig and Scott piled into the back of the Mustang. Craig asked Leira to run the lights just for a second every time the traffic slowed down. Leira mostly ignored the backseat and instead watched how Correk occasionally tried to chime in and be part of the group. That was the moment she realized all the time spent on Earth was taking him away from his own family somewhere on Oriceran. He’s trying to bloom where he’s planted, she thought, remembering something her grandmother used to say. Haven’t thought of her in a while either. Strange day.
They took three cars and parked in a deck just off Congress Avenue on 8th Street and walked down Brazos Street, passing the Driskill Hotel, turning onto 6th Street. The hotel was built out of brick and limestone just after the Civil War. It was ornately decorated, with curved openings, and busts of the founder and his two sons on the peaks of the facades still watching over everything.
“They say this old hotel is haunted,” Scott remarked, as they walked past the valet stand.
“That’s just gossip,” said Margaret.
Leira noticed Correk’s slowing down and looking up at the Driskill with a growing interest.
They got to the corner and crossed at the light. Leira tugged at Correk’s sleeve and asked, “You don’t believe in ghosts, do you? They’re just old stories.”
Correk’s face grew solemn. “Not ghosts, no. In Oriceran we call it something else. The world in between, and it’s very real. It’s one thing that gives even the adults nightmares.”
“I didn’t know magical beings had nightmares,” Leira said, glancing up at the hotel.
“I assure you, there are hideous things to be afraid of even where there is magic. Sometimes, because there is magic.”
Leira wondered if going out without her gun and just a Light Elf at her side was such a good idea.
“Your firearm would prove useless in this instance.”
Leira glanced back at Correk and shuddered so hard it shook her shoulders. “Why is it ghost stories always creep people out?”
“Because sometimes they’re real.
High above in a window on the third floor a figure watched the street below.
At first, the older woman didn’t believe it could really be her. After four years, the memory of what the young woman looked like had faded and the woman below was some distance from her under a darkening sky. This wasn’t even the first time she thought she was catching a glimpse of the detective.
She did her best to concentrate and study the woman walking within a group toward 6th Street.
“It is her!” she shouted, hearing the hollow echo the sound made in the dimension where she was trapped. The world in between.
Even here, in this place, the woman still felt the sharp pain of longing for something she couldn’t touch. Especially for the touch of her granddaughter.
Mara Berens instinctively reached toward Leira to call to her but her hand passed through the windowpane, dissolving into mist until Mara pulled it back. She was trapped in a place with only the other beings who were trapped, the living and the dead, to talk to. But there were consequences for mingling with the darker beings trapped in there with everyone else, and it could be difficult to tell one from the other in time.
Time was difficult to calculate in the world in between, but it wasn’t long after she was trapped in there before Mara saw the darkness from a dark being, creep over a Wood Elf who had fallen in trying to use a portal. The same kind of accident that had trapped Mara. The Wood Elf begged for help as the darkness covered him like ebony liquid, engulfing him till he was absorbed. There are even worse things than the world in between, thought Mara.
She made a point to trust no one after that.
Leira looked up toward the windows and Mara saw the sharp pointed chin, just like her own and the familiar short, dark hair. She looked at the man standing next to her just as he tilted his head up toward the hotel.
“A Light Elf,” she cried out in horror. “No!” Mara felt the panic rising and fought it. It would make it more difficult for her to hold her energy still and stay in one place. She watched Leira look up one more time as they walked down the street and she focused all her energy, trying to send a warning to her granddaughter. Stay away from the Oricerans. No good will come of it. I have to find a way to warn her before it’s too late. It felt like a scream in her chest that had nowhere to go, trapped in the world in between.
“Hey, you guys, keep up! We found the bar where we’re going to start our great adventure.”
Craig and Mike were frantically waving them on toward a bar that was completely open in the front. The only thing that separated the people inside from the sidewalk was an iron barrier painted black.
“Oh, pizza!” Correk pointed to the Due Forni sign down the block.
“You have good taste, but no…” said Craig. “Tonight, we show you the musical side of Austin! We start with the Dirty Dog Bar!”
“For once this will not be about the food,” said Mike. “Whiskey, women and song.”
Mitzi shook her head. “Come on King Kong, let’s go in. Pay the doorman. No, he doesn’t want to see your ID. That’s how old you look to the world. No one doubts you’re well over twenty-one.”
“Hey, it’s the Bourgeois Mystics!”
“Funk band!”
“Funk what?” Correk shouted over the trumpets and the bass guitar. The sound reverberated off the walls and made his ears hum. He looked around and quietly said, “Calmination,” symbols briefly appearing under his skin.
A young man with a fade and a zigzag cut into the sides of his hair smiled and lifted his glass to Correk. “Cool tattoo!”
The sound of his voice traveled to Correk in a tube of air all its own, separated out from the other noise in the room. Correk gave him a smile and a nod and turned away.
Now he was free to focus on the different sounds of the band and regulate the volume, blending the music.
“You’re really enjoying the music!” Leira looked at him with surprise.
“No need to shout,” he said, a feeling of calm running through him.
“What?” she shouted.
He laughed and shook his head, taking a beer from Scott and lifting it to the group. “To family,” he said, letting the spell push the sound out to only the people standing around him. They all lifted their beer and answered, “To family”.
Leira cocked her head to one side and said, “You cast a spell, didn’t you?” She lowered her voice even more. “And you can still hear me. Mister you had better not do magic, especially in public.” She raised her eyebrows and smiled, taking a sip of her beer.
Correk shrugged and smiled back as he swayed to the music.
“Is that Elven dancing?” Leira laughed and said, “Show me the spell, Cousin, or I try to feel my way through one of my own invention.”
He held up his hand, trying to look serious but his eyes gave him away. “I’ll need to use some of your energy. Give me your hand.”
She took his hand, and he inhaled and said the spell again, “Calmination,” blowing out the breath toward Leira. The air swirled around her,
expanding, glowing in a way that only she could see, separating all the sounds and images, letting her choose what she wanted to hear or see in any given moment. A look of delight came over her face.
“Now, use the energy within you to mix the sounds you want to hear. This is a lot easier if you believe you can do it. Elven magic strengthens with belief.”
Leira started, looking up to see who else had heard him say, ‘Elven magic’ and realized no one else could hear them. They weren’t even interested.
Correk smiled and gave her an encouraging nod.
“The sound travels through its own tunnel, separate from what everyone else can hear,” she said, watching the light swirl around her. “Am I the only one who can see this light?”
“I can see it too. Other magical creatures, all elves especially, can see it. Look around you. Open your mind and your heart to the energy around you.”
Leira hesitated, unsure she even wanted to try. Correk smiled and nodded again. “You can turn it off any time you want to. Shut your eyes if it makes it easier to start.”
“I’m a cop. I’ve got this,” she said. Come on Leira, you don’t back down from a challenge.
“What is there in this world that you trust? Who do you trust? Draw on that feeling.”
“I trust Hagan to have my back.”
Correk shrugged. “Start with that. Trust that feeling. This isn’t something you do. It’s more like you allow it to be.”
Leira thought about Hagan and relaxed into the feeling, letting it spread through her.
One by one, first the people closest to her, and then spreading out through the room, different people took on the same ethereal light, swirling around them in a tunnel.
It looks like a hundred fireflies.
Leira turned in a circle, amazed, taking it in.
She stared at a tall, thin man with long hair. He seemed to feel her energy reaching out to his and he turned and smiled, before going back to watching the band.
