by Dina Given
“How did you get in here? How did you find me?” I questioned, hoping he thought I had accepted or completely forgotten the body slumped on the seat behind me.
“I followed you and your friend here.”
“How is it that I can sense everyone else who follows me except you? For that matter, how did you get down here? There is only one access point.” I gestured to the elevator doors that still stood open.
“I wouldn’t be much of a mage if I wasn’t able to pull off a few tricks here and there, now would I?”
“I’m still the one holding the gun, Alex. You can do better than that.”
He scoffed at the meaningless threat yet relented anyway. “That elevator shaft is not the only way in. A friendly old man at the train station was compelled to tell me a story about an old entrance to these unused tunnels from the Waldorf hotel. The hotel was surprisingly willing to allow me to redecorate by knocking down some of their walls.” He smirked. It was clear to me that he had used some sort of influence to get information and access to this tunnel.
“As for your heightened senses, you may not even realize it, but you use small amounts of your magic to enhance your natural abilities. You can sense people watching or following you; you are slightly stronger and faster than the average human; and you have more acute vision, so you’re more capable with long-range weapons. There are probably other things, but I haven’t been watching you long enough to learn all of your secrets. But, as a mage, I have the ability to shield myself from your senses; for that reason, I could follow you and sit here undetected.”
I slowly lowered my weapon more from the shocking impact of his words than because I trusted him not to make a move against me. Had he really just said I was using magic? I was having a hard enough time believing Zane and Alex were using real magic, and I had seen it with my own eyes. I certainly wasn’t able to do what they did. I had never demonstrated even the remotest ability to wield some mysterious power, not that I had ever even tried. Anyway, everything Alex had mentioned could be explained by natural ability enhanced by intense military training. I shook my head, putting aside his words for now. This wasn’t the time or place.
“Was it really necessary to kill Eddie? Even if he had meant to kill me, I am more than capable of defending myself in a knife fight against one injured man.”
“He’s not a man, Ash; he’s a shape shifter. And I was ordered to keep an eye on you and keep you safe. That’s exactly what I was doing. I gave you a chance to extract whatever information you could from him, but I had to act when he threatened you.”
I still didn’t feel like I had been threatened by Eddie, although I had been so distracted I hadn’t noticed him pull the knife. I supposed it was entirely possible he could have slit my femoral artery or stabbed me in the chest, taking me out before I had a chance to fight back.
“Was he really lying to me about everything?” I asked, knowing Alex had heard every word.
Alex shrugged. “Perhaps not everything, at least in his mind. People usually believe the side they are fighting on is righteous. I would have given you different answers for some of those same questions, but it’s hard to say which one of us would have been telling the truth, maybe both.”
That was an interesting non-answer if I had ever heard one. “Okay, then, let’s hear them—your answers. And start with why you keep calling me Ash.”
“Fine, but I get the first question. Were you telling the truth about losing your memory ten years ago? And I will know if you’re lying.” He didn’t say it in a threatening way, more matter-of-fact, but I knew it for what it was.
“Yes!” I yelled, stomping in a circle with my fists clenched tightly, looking a lot like a kindergartner throwing a tantrum. “In the past week, I have been set up; almost killed in some sort of voodoo ritual; attacked by ghouls, Pokémon, and shadow demons, not to mention your psycho buddy; tailed by a shape shifter you murdered right in front of me; and then you—a complete stranger, by the way—threaten me about lying when no one has yet to tell me the truth!”
“Pokémon?” Of course that was what he would latch on to.
’“Never mind,” I grumbled. “Just tell me what the hell is going on, or get the fuck away from me.”
“Now that sounds more like the Ash I know.”
“And love?” I asked, completing the cliché with a withering glance.
“Absolutely not,” Alex snapped. The amount of venom in his voice startled me and left me momentarily speechless. What the hell had I done to this guy to make him hate me so much? He recovered before I did and continued as if he hadn’t just skewered me with his hostility. “What were you doing at that bookshop?”
I debated whether I should tell him anything, but he already knew I had the amulet. If he hadn’t seen me use it in the alley, he had certainly seen it when he had unclothed me that night. “I was looking for information on the amulet. I was told the shop owner was an expert in mystical objects and might be able to help me.”
“Did you learn anything?” He avoided my gaze, moving casually about the train car as though he were more interested in his surroundings than the answer to that question.
“Not much that was useful. She only told me some folklore about the origins of the amulet. She called it … Oh, what was it? A god-stone, that’s what she called it.”
Alex’s head whipped around as if I had just slapped him. “Are you sure that’s what she said?”
“Yes, why? That obviously means something to you.”
“Maybe. What was the shop keeper’s name?”
“Um … Lilly. Lilly Alfreda.”
“Alfreda, huh?” He gnawed on his lip so intently I thought he might chew it off.
I managed to wait for all of five seconds. “Alex?”
“Sorry. I’ll look into it. I don’t want to say anything until I’m certain.”
“If you’re thinking she might be an elf, consider yourself certain, because she is.”
“Well, that’s a positive sign. It means she can be believed. If she said it’s the god-stone, it likely is. Her people would know since they were the original guardians of the stone before it was lost a millennia ago.”
“She said she would try to find out what the writing on the amulet means.”
“Will you let me know if you learn anything?”
“Why should I? It’s not like you have been entirely forthcoming with info.”
He looked almost apologetic in response to my death glare. “I will answer what I can, but you have to know I am not at liberty to tell you everything.”
“Fair enough.” I returned the gun to my waistband. “I can respect the need for secrecy sometimes, but don’t think I’ll accept a non-response gracefully. I will eventually find out everything you know, one way or another.”
“I have no doubt of that, but I’m sure you can also appreciate that I must follow orders.”
I shrugged. “I was never one for following orders, which is why I’m no longer a soldier. Who do you take your orders from?”
“What, no small talk first to get me warmed up?”
First he hates me, and then he is being flirtatious? I don’t think I would ever know what to expect from Alex.
“Patience is not one of my virtues, so you’d better get on with it before I lose charity and temperance, as well.”
“Some things never change,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I take my orders from the Mage Council of Urusilim. I am fighting for a worthy cause, using the unique skills at my disposal.”
“What worthy cause is that?”
“That is one of those questions I cannot answer at this time.”
I frowned, not satisfied with that answer, but I had too many other questions to get wrapped around the axle on that one. “Fine. Why do you keep calling me Ash?”
He barked out a short laugh. “Because that is your given name—Ashnan. I thought these questions were going to be harder. You must be losing your touch.”
Ignorin
g his irritating jape, I pressed on, “What is Urusilim?” I braced myself for the answer, both fearing and anticipating what Alex would tell me.
“It is your homeland, your birthplace … and your birthright.”
“How is that possible? I had a family before my accident. We lived on Long Island … I think. They showed me pictures—my parents, friends, childhood vacations, high school …” My voice trailed off as I realized how false that felt.
I shook my head, trying to clear out the litter of confusing thoughts that were crashing through my mind like bumper cars. What if I was from another world? Why did I feel so sad at the prospect of losing a childhood I didn’t even remember? Maybe because I had so desperately clung to the vision of that perfect family as a way to get through the hell that followed when I had entered the foster system. I wasn’t ready to let go of that small measure of comfort.
However, if my childhood on earth hadn’t happened, what had my real life been like? Maybe I had a loving family on Urusilim that was still alive. I went from feeling desolate to feeling hopeful. If I had parents, even siblings … I forced the thoughts from my mind. I wasn’t going to let myself go down a path that might only lead to disappointment. I had been there, done that when I had been placed into an abusive foster home after no family had come to claim me, and it hadn’t been pretty.
Alex merely shrugged without offering an explanation. “I cannot answer that, but I do know you did not grow up on Long Island, wherever that is, or go to high school, whatever that is. And you most certainly did not have friends.” That small comment took me aback, and I felt affronted at the implication, though he didn’t seem to notice. “We lost track of you when you first entered this world ten years ago. I know nothing of your life here since then.”
“Ten years?” That was around the same time I had lost my memory. I wasn’t a big believer in coincidences, but I also wasn’t prepared to believe that I was from a magical realm yet. “So how did I get here?”
He broke eye contact, looking everywhere other than at me, his hands wringing his staff as he paced. I recognized an immovable object when I saw one.
“Let me guess, that’s one of those questions you can’t answer.”
His non-response spoke volumes.
“Fine,” I said with every intention of finding out the information at some point. “Where is Urusilim and how does one get there?”
He stopped pacing and looked back at me. “Therein lies the difficulty. It is not easily reached. Only a handful of mages and other beings have enough power to tear a small rift in the curtain separating our worlds to allow just one person or creature through. Then it sometimes takes weeks for them to recover from the immense effort. Those who are not strong enough or knowledgeable enough in the art sometimes never recover.”
“And you’re strong enough to open the way through?” I asked. He appeared to be talented and capable; however, I didn’t think he was at the Gandalf or Dumbledore level, given his youth and periodic erratic outbursts, especially with me.
“Someone else facilitated the opening so I could make it through. If I had attempted to do so myself, I would have been dangerously weakened and vulnerable for quite some time once I arrived here.”
“So, assuming all of the creatures I have run into so far are also from Urusilim, there is a built-in control mechanism preventing armies of monsters from coming through. That’s good.”
“Precisely. It is impossible to open a rift large enough or long enough to move large numbers of beings. That is why you have only been attacked by a few creatures here and there. Marduk has powerful magic users in his employ, capable of sending creatures through, but they are still unable to transport an army to more easily overpower you.”
“Okay, assuming I am from Urusilim, somehow I don’t think that Marduk, Zane, and that creepy creature menagerie have been hunting me down just to throw me a home coming party,” I challenged.
“You pose a great threat to them, and they will either need to eliminate you or turn you to their side to control you.”
I felt like I was playing a game of twenty questions. Why couldn’t he simply give me the entire story instead of forcing me to pull it out of him one piece at a time? It was clearly his tactic not to reveal too much too soon, and it was getting really annoying.
“Holy crap, Alex! Just spill it for Christ’s sake. I told you I didn’t have patience. How am I a threat to them?”
“Because you have more power than you know. Unfortunately, I am unable to bring your memories back so you can unlock those powers, since I don’t know how you lost those memories in the first place.” He lowered his voice to an almost inaudible level. “And I don’t know if I should.”
It sounded like he felt as threatened by me as Marduk did. “I lost my memory from a head injury I suffered in a car accident ten years ago,” I repeated the same explanation I had been giving people for years.
“Perhaps,” he responded, sounding as unconvinced as I was beginning to feel.
“What do you think happened?”
“I don’t know, but …” He shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Seriously? Is that the best you can do?”
He turned and walked a few steps away, looking uncomfortable. “I think I may have said too much already.”
I quickly stepped up behind him, grabbing his arm and spinning him to face me. “How do you think I lost my memory?” I demanded. My voice steadily rose in volume as I barraged him with questions. “What kind of power am I supposed to have? What is it that you think I can do? Who am I?” I ended on a scream.
He tore his arm from my grip, his own voice rising. “By the gods, Ash—Emma—whatever you want me to call you—I don’t know what to tell you. We are on the brink of war, and memory or not, soon you are going to be forced to choose a side. Unfortunately, I am forbidden from saying anything that might sway you. It has to be your choice and yours alone.”
“You can call me Emma; I don’t know who Ash is. And how the hell am I supposed to choose sides in a war that I know nothing about? Why should I stick my neck out for a place and people that mean nothing to me? If you’re expecting me to do it out of the goodness of my heart, you’re talking to the wrong person.”
He nodded, looking smug and disgusted at the same time. “I expected nothing more from you.”
How could he make me feel completely small and ashamed by my own words? I had never pretended to be anything more than a mercenary, and I wore that honesty like a badge. Nonetheless, it felt like Alex had just shone the piercing light of day on all of my deepest flaws, illuminating them for harsh judgment.
“You don’t like me very much, do you?”
He met my eyes and didn’t waver. “No, I don’t, and I trust you even less.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I clearly know you better than you know yourself.”
I supposed that was true enough. “What did I do to you? Who was I?”
He was silent for several moments, and I was beginning to think he wasn’t going to answer my question. I started to turn away, believing the conversation was over, when he said, “You hurt a lot of people, Ash—Emma. But, in particular, you hurt someone who was very important to me, and for that, I can never forgive you.”
Did he expect me to apologize for doing something I couldn’t remember? Was I supposed to feel remorse or regret for causing him pain? Well, I didn’t. I didn’t even know anything about Alex or this person I had supposedly hurt. How was I supposed to care about people who were complete strangers to me? The only thing I felt for Alex right then was anger at withholding crucial information.
“Then tell me what I did, who I hurt.”
This time, he stayed silent.
I screamed in exasperation, my frustrations echoing off the walls of the train tunnel. How did he expect me to walk into a war armed with no knowledge? It was my neck on the line, and I wasn’t about to stick it out without a damn good reason. If
he couldn’t—wouldn’t—help me, I could think of only one other person who might know something of my past.
I had met Benjamin Hayes years ago when I had first joined the military. He was what everyone liked to call a “paper pusher” when, in fact, he held an incredibly powerful, albeit not sexy, position within the government. He was the head of procurement for the entire United States military, ultimately controlling all purchasing decisions from six hundred dollar toilet seats to two billion dollar B-2 stealth bombers.
Our paths had crossed when I had been a member of a strategic anti-terrorist team looking at unique ways to protect the country against attacks. We had needed to work with procurement to gain access to top-secret technology to aid in our research. Given the priority of the project at the time, Benjamin had personally gotten involved.
He had been described to me as a meek-looking bulldog that would bite if provoked, and if you crossed him, your funding would get slashed. He wielded his pen and budget authority like a sword. For some odd reason, we had really hit it off. Maybe it was because I understood that, when you didn’t have physical power, you used whatever means available to you not to be a victim. Ever since that first meeting, Benjamin had become almost a surrogate father to me.
I had once asked him for a favor—to use the formidable resources at his disposal to see if he could track down some living family members of mine. I simply hadn’t been able to let go of the wretched hope that maybe I wasn’t completely alone in the world. He had agreed, although a few weeks later, he said had been unable to find anything. Yet something about that conversation had left me unsettled.
He had been nervous, even scared, pacing and unable to look me in the eye. He had continuously glanced around the room, as if looking for cameras or bugs. I had let it go, fully intending to bring it up again at some point in the future. And it was time.
I went home from Grand Central Station to change my torn and bloody clothes, and Alex insisted on tagging along. He had proven himself useful in the past; as a result, I figured having him around couldn’t hurt.
