by Martha Carr
Turner nodded his head. “The most powerful kind either world has ever known, if she survives the transformation. That would be the tricky part. The unknown element.”
“How fast does all of this happen?”
Turner’s bushy eyebrows shot up as he wrinkled his forehead. “More unknowns. But Leira doesn’t have an illness. She’s not sick. Don’t take that attitude. It won’t help her.”
“Is there a possibility we can stop the melding from happening?”
“I’m going to say with some confidence… No. That should not be our goal, anyway.”
Correk pushed back the chair abruptly, scraping it along the slate. The troll emerged from the middle of a bush, looking around for trouble. He took a seat on the end of a twig and kept watch, sensing the tension in the air.
Turner tapped his cane hard again. “I didn’t say that meant the end of Leira,” he said, tersely. “Sit down and pay attention. We are after a different goal. To guide Leira so that she can become the conductor of the energy on a level we have never seen before. I tell you, it has to be possible,” he said in a hushed tone.
“How can you say that?” Correk spit out the words, pounding his fist on the glass, rattling the table.
“Because Leira exists and therefore all things are possible, including a good outcome. But only if we focus on it to the obliteration of any other ideas. We must, or we are certain to fail. We must be sure that every decision we make is aimed at succeeding and not at preventing failure.”
“There’s the slimmest of differences.”
“True but it will make winning this campaign possible. You had best decide right now if you have what it takes to see this all the way through.”
Correk’s brows knit together as a spidery trail of anger crept back up his spine, lighting up the symbols on his arms. “I think I’ve already proven that.”
“This venture will take even more than what you have already sacrificed because it will take time and require restraint and the hardest of all, exactly what I’ve said all along. Belief in a good outcome.” He pointed his finger at Correk, his gold cufflink twinkling in the last of the light. “It will shade what we do by the thinnest of margins but could be what changes everything.”
“I understand what you’re saying, you know. I won’t be able to rescue her. Not again. In the end the choice will be Leira’s.”
“But we can teach her balance in the meantime. Don’t underestimate the power of a guide. Her father will be of use as well. He may hold small details to what it’s like to actually be a Jaspar Elf that could prove crucial.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Not a requirement. Let it go and focus. There’s something else that’s interesting about Leira. There’s a measure of belief inside of her already that acts like a compass. It’s built into her and even after everything she’s been through, it’s still there. A most remarkable and extraordinary thing.”
“Is that part of being a Jaspar Elf?
“Does her father strike you as having that same quality?” Turner shook his head with a laugh. “No, not to me either. It’s not part of that spark she was given in her DNA, either. Made her a great detective, even without any abilities and is serving her well as an agent. Leira innately believes a solution exists. I feel very good about all of this. Yes, indeed I do. Now settle in, we have something else we need to discuss and it’s time we got to it.”
Chapter Four
Charlie Monaghan showed up thirty minutes early to Kellari Taverna to stake out a table and take a seat facing the entrance. The restaurant was convenient for meetings at the White House less than a mile away and featured some of the best seafood in Washington. It was located on K Street along the power corridor and was already filling up with lobbyists with toothy smiles rubbing elbows with aides to Senators and Congressmen chatting up their cause. Charlie loved taking in the atmosphere as he laid a cream-colored cloth napkin across his lap.
So close… push a little harder. You want to win, don’t you? The buzzing, crackling voice in Charlie’s head made it hard to hear anyone else at times. It whispered to him, encouraging him to work the angles even more than he was used to doing. There were actually lines even Charlie wouldn’t cross but it was all getting blurry and he found himself arguing out loud in the car or the shower. His wife even caught him shouting angrily at the yogurt in the refrigerator, tightly gripping the door. He came back from the moment feeling like he had been somewhere else and wasn’t even sure how long he had been gone.
The same feeling was coming over him as the fast-moving waiters and chatting diners began to fade, and he listened to the crackling hum. No one means what they say. Have to be careful. Protect yourself at all times. Or else… An inky blackness crept into the irises of his eyes, momentarily dotting out the honey brown color as Charlie was lost in a swirl of anger, reliving every slight he’d ever felt.
“Charlie, good to see you! I see you got us a great table.” The Senator from Oregon gave a large grin as he turned and waved at different familiar faces, letting everyone know he was in the restaurant. He clapped Charlie on the shoulder shaking him out of his dark reverie, too busy giving a wink and a nod to the Senator from Maine at another table to notice the look in Charlie’s eyes. He took a seat opposite Charlie and settled in, laying the napkin across his lap. “Just coffee, please. Long work day still ahead, of course.”
Charlie felt the rush of adrenaline subside inside of him, his heart slowing down just enough to get a clear thought. He blinked hard a few times and wiped the sweat off his lip with his napkin, forcing a smile as he put out his hand. He was back in the restaurant, a slight film of panic roiling around in his gut, as he wondered how long he had checked out this time. It’s getting worse. “Senator Bleeden, so glad you could make it.”
An elderly man with a slight stoop wearing a dark grey pinstripe suit and blue silk tie came through the crowd, shaking hands as he went and resting a heavy hand on the occasional shoulder leaning over to whisper something conspiratorially. The top of his head caught the light from the oversized, round chandeliers overhead, shining through the thinning silver hair neatly combed over to one side and trimmed just above his ears. Senator Thatcher made his way to the table back by the wall, making a point not to look at who he was meeting until he was almost on top of them. “Charlie Monaghan, glad I could find the time! Senator Bleeden.” He nodded his head, keeping the smile on his face but the warm sentiment failed to make it all the way to his eyes.
“Nice to see one of our senior statesman.” Senator Bleeden made a point of rising halfway and pulling out the elderly Senator’s seat partway as he sat back down. It was all a show put on for each other and anyone else who might care enough to watch. Courtly manners as entertainment so they could settle in and get down to business.
Charlie watched it all unfold, waiting for the maneuvering to be finished. He had seen it played out a thousand times before and even on a good day only reluctantly played along. Today he wasn’t in the mood to do more than give his signature smile, showing his even, white teeth. The waiter came brushing by their table as Charlie quickly glanced up and gave a gentle shake to his head. “Not yet, we have a few things to discuss. Bring these gentlemen their usual. We’ll let you know when we’re ready for more.”
“The coffee’s enough for me, Charlie.”
“Nonsense. This is an important day. We can celebrate a little. Surely you already know how you’re going to vote and both of you have drivers waiting for you to take you back to the Hill.” The smile slipped off Charlie’s face for a moment as he felt a twinge from somewhere deep inside. “Fortify yourselves.” The smile returned to his face as he took a sip of the bourbon served neat. “Are we all in agreement on that vote, gentlemen?” He dropped his voice to just above a whisper, lifting his glass to take another sip.
Senator Bleeden waited for the waiter to put the crystal glass with gin and tonic firmly on the table before he raised it, his hand shaking making the
ice cubes clink. He took a large swallow, grimacing from the cold temperature against his teeth and set the glass back down. “I don’t see why not, Charlie. Makes good sense. If Axiom finds an artifact first, they should have the right to use it as they see fit.”
“As long as it doesn’t run contrary to American interests,” Senator Thatcher quickly added, drumming his fingers on the table. It irritated Charlie that the Senator was always looking for loopholes to be used later at his convenience. Not to be trusted, not this one.
“Of course, goes without saying. We could even talk about leasing the rights to some of the artifacts for government use if the need arose. A new kind of defense contract or even do some good works if one of them turns out to cure something or make something grow faster.” Charlie waved his hand impatiently. The memory of his loss in the last boardroom meeting to Pearson Cowley slithered into his mind like white smoke filling every corner. He looked at Senator Thatcher, barely containing a sneer. “So we have the necessary votes?” He glanced down at his watch.
Senator Bleeden cleared his throat. “We do, enough with the games. Plain and simple, we do. You’ve been a gracious and generous host for some years now and it’s noted and greatly appreciated. I would ask that you keep the mayhem to a minimum when discovering these artifacts or that could become an issue.”
“It’s in our best interests as well to get in and get out as cleanly as possible. Does this mean the government will back off their own excavations?”
Senator Bleeden let out a deep-throated chuckle. “Oh no, not at all. I appreciate your asking for the moon, Charlie. Be glad you got hold of a few stars. Our government has its own plans. Don’t ask me about them…” The Senator raised a wrinkled hand, the knuckles knobby and twisted. “Goes even above my pay grade. You may run into them out there.”
Senator Thatcher shifted uncomfortably in his seat as his junior colleague glanced sideways at him.
“You should drink down that liquid courage, Senator Thatcher. Be mindful when you’re out there, Charlie. You harm a government employee and the world hears about it and it will be more difficult to protect you from the slings and arrows of the public. And when they gather together in sufficient numbers they can actually wound.”
“Understood. Our teams have their instructions to be as circumspect as they can. They will not start anything…”
Senator Thatcher looked like he wanted to add something to the conversation but thought better of it.
“Good,” said Senator Bleeden, “then I’ll have the Lavraki and we can talk about the dinner Axiom is hosting for me.” A waiter appeared at his side as he lifted the menu. “We can celebrate everyone’s success in this new age of magic.”
Chapter Five
Leira pulled up in front of Estelle’s and easily slid into the spot just in front of the gate. Jackson loosened his grip on the dashboard and shifted in the seat, clearing his throat.
“You played on Turner Underwood’s wet lawn this morning, didn’t you?”
Leira looked at the troll as he stood up between the seats and let out a sneeze. He wiped his face on Leira’s jacket, leaving a greasy smear.
“Really?”
Yumfuck let out a cackle and slid into her jacket pocket before she could stop him. “Dry cleaning will not get out troll snot,” she said, still trying to wipe away the sheen.
Jackson flexed his hands, taking a look around at Rainey Street. “Gotta say, I’m a little surprised that you’d take a stranger along in this metal wagon on just your grandmother’s word. You have no idea if I’m dangerous.”
“You have no idea that I actually can be and it’s part of my job. And this is a Mustang, not a metal wagon. Come on, you’ve never seen a car before?”
“I don’t get out as much as you’d think.”
Leira turned and looked him up and down, narrowing her eyes. “You and Mom never came through a portal to Earth? You know what, never mind. Not going to open that line of questioning today. Save it all for later.” Leira felt a shudder pass through her as she opened the car door. “Metal wagon,” she muttered.
Jackson got out of the car and stretched his arms over his head, smelling the air. “Where exactly are we and what is that smell?” He rubbed his belly, looking around for the source. “Come to think of it, I haven’t eaten since…”
“You’re fine. Those are food trucks for another time. Right now, you’re going to tell me everything you know about Jaspar Elves and why I’m in danger.”
“I could have done that back at the party. Wasn’t that your office? This looks like a pub.”
“It’s a bar and I live behind it.” My father is coming over to my house. I’d really rather be in a shootout right now. She bit down on her lip. “Fuck, let’s do this.” Leira looked over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching from Estelle’s. “A lot of the people in there are my friends and they have no idea that the monsters in the closets are real and then some. You don’t say a damn thing when we walk through there and you just keep walking.”
Jackson followed closely behind Leira as she headed for the gate, her chin tucked down. “I had an idea that parenting would be a lot like this. What?” He held up his hands in protest as Leira scowled at him, opening the gate. She buried her hands in the pockets of her jacket as she marched along the edge of the patio.
Estelle was standing on her step stool behind the bar and watched the pair head for the guest house as she blew a long stream of smoke out the side of her mouth, taking another long drag creating a cloud as everyone at the bar turned away from the smoke.
Leira opened the door and dropped her purse on the red velvet chair, stepping aside to let Jackson inside before she pressed the door shut. She slid out of her jacket, resting it on the back of a kitchen chair as she scooped out the troll and carried him over to the sink, holding him under the faucet as she squirted dish soap on him.
“Motherfucker!” He bristled as the cold water hit his neck. He grew to fit her entire hand.
“Like a fucking chia pet. Hold still. I can’t wait for you to lick off the grease this time. You’ll leave a trail wherever you go.”
Jackson took a glance inside the bedroom and around at the living room. “Not a bad space. Nicer than my cabin. It’s about the same size, though you have more toys in yours.” He stopped at the kitchen door and leaned against the frame. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to water them or feed them after midnight?”
Leira grabbed a dish towel and wiped off the troll as she spun around, her eyes wide. “I knew you had been to Earth before.” She shook her head, frowning. “Why lie about it?”
“No lies. I’ve never been to Earth but doesn’t mean I’m unaware of all this.”
Yumfuck stood on the kitchen table and shook his entire body, spraying a fine mist in a foot-wide radius. “You could have just asked. I would have obliged,” he chirped. “Oooh, lavender scent!” He licked his fur and scrambled off the table, bouncing on to the chair and scaling down the leg, running out of the room.
“His shows are on. He discovered Law and Order.” Leira put down the dish towel and took a seat at the table. “What do you know that Turner Underwood can’t teach me.”
“It’s something I have to show you more than tell you.” Jackson moved cautiously toward the table, pulling out the chair.
“That’s going to get annoying pretty fast. Look, we’re strangers to each other and you have information I need. That’s all this is right now. Show me what you know.”
“Fair enough.” He stretched his arms across the table, his hands open. “Take my hands.” He gave a short, one-sided shrug. “You want to know, take my hands.”
Leira startled as he did the same impatient twitch she did at least once a day. She put her hands into his as he grasped her fingers tightly and his eyes began to glow, the energy pulling in from the ground and up through his body, lighting up the symbols. The magic sparked between their hands and shot through Leira, lighting up her skin, casting a glow
around her entire body. “What the fuck?” She looked at her arms and legs, the hairs on her arms standing on end.
“Give in to it. Fighting it will only make it harder for me to show you. A little trust will be necessary.”
Leira took a deep breath, doing her best to let go. Think of your favorite places. Interrogation. She felt herself relax a little picturing the middle-aged banker who killed his wife and shot himself trying to cover it up. He eventually confessed but not until after Leira and Hagan carefully laid it all out for him. Good times. Favorite things to do. The familiar sound of handcuffs closing made her laugh.
You and I are more alike than you know.
Leira heard Jackson’s voice inside her head as she instinctively pulled her hands back, but Jackson’s grip was strong, and the energy was holding them together. He rose out of his chair, his chest across the table as he pulled against Leira and sat back down. Welcome to a Jaspar mind meld. It’s unique to our kind. We can connect on a deeper level.
His energy was mixing with hers, intertwining as his voice rolled through her head. Haven’t been able to do this since I was a kid. Don’t run into too many Jaspar Elves anymore. Met a very old Elf who showed me Oriceran’s past in a way that gets under your skin. The battle with Rhazdon’s followers… That was a bloody mess.
Wait, you were there? How?
You’ll see, hang on.
What does that mean? Leira loosened her grip around Jackson’s hands but the energy still sealed them together.
Okay, this is where it gets a little tricky.
Leira felt her muscles tense under their own power as the energy surged through her. She resisted at first, wary of losing herself.
We won’t let it get that far. I can feel what you’re feeling. If you try, you can do the same.
Leira looked into his eyes and felt her energy open up as Jackson’s thoughts came rushing into her head. Dude, slow down! His memories unreeled, spilling out without any order, filling every inch of her thoughts. Images of Oriceran spun through her mind as she watched the gargoyles in the post office fly swiftly overhead, their wingtips barely missing each other. They gracefully swooped and rose, opening the small brass-framed cubbies and inserting the mail, just as quickly darting away to gather more, their leather pouches flapping against their backs. The memory compressed into a rose-colored swirl, elongating as it looped and swirled away, replaced by a field of tall yellow flowers with blooms the size of a large melon. Underneath were entire troll villages with small houses built out of mud and shaded by the flowers. Trolls of various sizes ran between the mud houses, cackling and rolling, while others sat back and watched.
