Tomb Raiding PHD

by Martha Carr

  The secretary snorted and floated off her seat, her wings beating furiously. “What, because I’m a pixie I have to have a name like Moonbeam or Star Flower? You humans. You’re all the same. No imagination.” She sniffed disdainfully.

  Shay shrugged. “Not saying you have to be Star Flower, but…Madge? Come on. You have to see where I’m coming from.”

  The pixie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, then flitted around Shay. The tomb raider didn’t bother to follow her movement with her head or eyes.

  “What kind of name is Shay?” the pixie asked from behind her. “Shouldn’t you be Bloody Knives or something?”

  Shay’s face twitched. She’d accepted that the gnome probably knew far more about her than she’d like, but that didn’t mean she wanted any random magical being he associated with to know her past.

  But he’s the guy with all the leverage in this relationship.

  “Why does Tubal-Cain even need a secretary?” Shay snapped. “Is he really that busy? Half the time, the guy’s not even in town.”

  “Again, you’re a typical human and assuming the entire universe is centered on you.” The pixie fluttered back above her chair. “He’s got a lot of clients. Why do you think he’s gone? From what he told me, the average human is so slow and ignorant they’ll never find the place in a million years, so he decided to stop worrying about faking it being a games store. He wanted something a little more professional-looking. Classier.”

  “Maybe he should have hired a classier and more professional secretary,” Shay mumbled under her breath.

  Madge shot forward, and Shay resisted her natural impulse to go for a gun or knife. She refused to believe she’d suffer serious injury from a pixie, whether from arrogance or pure aesthetic desire, she couldn’t say.

  I’m not afraid of an overgrown dragonfly with an attitude.

  The pixie stopped just a few inches in front of the tomb raider, her arms crossed again. “Whatever. He told me all about you. He must really like you because he even told me to let you know where he is if you came in here asking for him.” She looked Shay up and down. “You just seem like another human to me, but the gnome’s pretty good about exploiting useful resources.” She smirked.

  Shay shook her head. She wasn’t going to let the pixie bait her into a further war of words.

  “Like I said, I’d like to think we have a mutually beneficial relationship. A little of that makes both worlds go around. Is he even here? If not, I’ll leave a message and get out your hair and wings.”

  Madge’s lips pursed for a few seconds. “The Great Treaty.”

  “What about it?”

  “That’s where he’s at.”

  “How is he at a treaty?”

  Madge rolled her eyes and sighed. “It’s a bar. A magical bar. It teleports to a new location every few decades. Been on Earth for a few hundred years, and it’s been in West Hollywood since the ‘40s. Non-magical folks can’t see it normally, but they’ve been lightening up a little bit lately.” She rattled off an address. “It’s not glamoured the same way this place is, so it’s not about just concentrating. You’re going to have to go to that address and walk straight through the center of the big mural of Cesar Chavez on the brick wall.”

  “Won’t somebody notice that?”

  “Nope. If you’re honestly trying to get into the place, people’s attention will shift away from you. Just because it’s not glamoured the same way as this place doesn’t mean it’s not glamoured at all.”

  Shay nodded. “And how do I know you’re not just screwing with me and trying to get me to walk into a wall for some sort of Pixie Greatest Pranks thing that you’ll put up on the net later?”

  The pixie grinned. “That would be funny, but the gnome would get angry with me for upsetting a customer unnecessarily.”

  And he doesn’t care about your attitude? I don’t think I’ll ever understand Oricerans.

  “Okay. I go to that address and walk through the brick wall. Understood.”

  Madge nodded. “Yes. You won’t see it till you’re in it. Trust me.”

  “Thanks. See you around, Madge.”

  “See you, Shay.”

  Shay headed toward the exit.

  Why do I have a feeling I’m about to break my nose?

  13

  Forty-five minutes later Shay stood in front of a mural of Cesar Chavez, shaking her head and questioning her life choices.

  I swear if that pixie was fucking with me she’s gonna pay, Tubal-Cain’s secretary or not.

  Shay took several deep breaths and stepped forward, expecting a painful encounter with a brick wall and Cesar Chavez.

  Instead, the wall rippled like liquid, and a couple more steps brought her into a darkened room.

  Okay, that wasn’t so bad.

  Floating orbs provided light, with a pulsating sphere illuminating a dance floor. Techno thumped from somewhere unseen or perhaps invisible speakers. Small black tables littered the area around the brightly lit all-white bar.

  If anything, it reminded Shay of an edgy gay bar, except the clientele weren’t beautiful men looking for their personal Adonis. The bulk of the bar was filled with the more common humanoid Oricerans one expected on Earth, including elves, dwarves, and a few gnomes, but not Tubal-Cain, from what she could see. There were more than a few obvious wizards and witches.

  In addition, many less common beings and races populated the bar. Some were humanoid species that Shay couldn’t immediately identify. Many of those had skin of unnatural shades, by human standards at least, from shocking blue to red. Scales. Multiple eyes. Some had pointed tails, pointed ears, or fur. One dark-green woman was covered in vines and flowers that twitched whenever she moved.

  Is that a dryad, or do they look different than that?

  Shay shook her head. She knew much more about Oriceran that the average person, but every direct encounter with Oriceran culture reminded her that she was still far more ignorant than she would have liked.

  Two Oricerans resembling upright elk sat at one table chatting with a roughly humanoid rock being with four legs and two arms. The Oriceran’s face seemed to consist of several pulsing gems arranged in no particular order.

  So many races. It’s hard to imagine growing up on a world where that was the standard for thousands of years.

  Shay resisted the urge to twitch at the sight of an Oriceran resembling a giant praying mantis. He rested on a large bench instead of a chair. The mantis chittered away in a language Shay couldn’t hope to understand with his seatmate, who looked like an upright rat in a shiny gold coat, huge gold chain, and a large purple hat with a feather, like a little rat pimp.

  Huh. So I’ve finally seen a Willen in person, and apparently they share Peyton’s sense of fashion. Maybe he’s got a Willen ancestor?

  The mantis man, or woman—Shay didn’t know which—was downright boring compared to some of the other Oricerans in the place, including a walking toadstool and a pulsing cloud of vapor. She wouldn’t have even recognized the latter was alive if it weren’t for an elf calling to it.

  Wait, how do I even know these are Oricerans? For all I know, some of these are magical creatures who live on Earth and are just now coming out of hiding.

  Shit. This place makes the bar I met Correk at seem boring in comparison.

  Shay managed to close her mouth and take a few steps forward, surveying the area for the gnome. Being only a small, well-dressed humanoid should have theoretically made him stand out in such an exotic place.

  The techno stopped and was replaced by harsh dissonant flute that played jarring, irregular beats. The two elk men bellowed, hopped away from the table, and rushed to the dance floor.

  “Must be the song of the summer over there,” Shay muttered.

  Another vaguely humanoid patron was in blatant violation of local anti-smoking laws, but maybe they didn’t count when you were literally a fire. His smoke drifted into the air in a tight column, perhaps guided by some spell. He didn�
��t appear to be burning the chair he floated a few inches above.

  Does he have a human shape just to be relatable, or is he naturally like that?

  Another quick survey of the bar didn’t locate Tubal-Cain, so Shay made her way to the white bar, which looked normal enough.

  The bartender stared down at her. He was a Kilomea—hairy, tall, and brutish, with jutting oversized teeth that reminded her of an ogre.

  She’d have to look into it more, but she wondered if Kilomeas might be the source of human ogre legends. It was hard to untangle what magical creatures had existed on Earth all along and which had come from Oriceran. Maybe all of them were originally from the other planet.

  Or one of the other alien planets. The more I think about James, the less I can be sure he was originally supposed to be humanoid. Maybe that amulet made him into a human because humans are the main species on Earth.

  Maybe it didn’t matter. He was all man now. He had proved that to her on more than one occasion.

  The Kilomea turned his attention to an older Light Elf in a trench coat. Shay almost laughed. She wanted to ask him if he had baggies of dust or coke in there.

  “Another one, Dannec?” the Kilomea rumbled.

  The elf shook his head. “I’m fine. I’ve got too much to do later to drink much more.”

  The Kilomea eyed Shay for a moment and picked up a bottle.

  She understood. It was a bar. She needed to order. She already stood out enough.

  Shay sidled up to the bar. “I’ll just have…” She frowned as the Kilomea finished pouring a drink and set it in front of her.

  “A Lambic, right?” he rumbled.

  She nodded. It was pointless to ask how he knew. It could be luck. It could be magic. Maybe both.

  Shay took a sip of her beer. “Have you seen Tubal-Cain around? He’s a gnome.”

  The bartender nodded toward a table behind her. She turned around. The gnome sat right there, with a glass filled with a glowing orange liquid in front of him and a smirk on his face.

  How the hell? I was looking right at the table only a few minutes ago. Damn magic. Why does it always have to be so annoying?

  “How much do I owe you for the drink?” Shay stood.

  The bartender shook his head. “The gnome already paid.”

  Shay nodded and made her way toward Tubal-Cain. Madge had probably contacted him somehow and let him know she was coming, or maybe the gnome could anticipate her actions just that easily.

  No, I can’t let myself think that way. This guy needed help to find his cousin. He’s not all-seeing. He’s just old and really smart.

  “Hello, Miz Carson,” the gnome offered after a sip of his drink.

  “Your new secretary’s kind of a bitch, you know.”

  The corners of his lips curled up. “Oh, I know, but she’s also reliable and good at screening out the riffraff. Helps me concentrate on my work. Makes the whole operation so much more efficient.”

  Shay chuckled. “Glad to know I’m not riffraff.”

  “You aren’t, for now.” Tubal-Cain gave her a thin smile. “Surprised you’d track me all the way here.”

  Shay shrugged. “You’re sometimes hard to get hold of, and if Madge is right, I should be happy you ever have time to see me.”

  “Perhaps.” Another sip of glowing orange liquor followed. “So why have you come? You do nothing with me without purpose.”

  “Fair enough. I need something from you.”

  Tubal-Cain nodded to the chair across from him. “Sit down and have a drink with me. You insisted on tracking me down on my off-time to talk business, so I insist you play a little.”

  Shay shrugged and took a seat. She already had a drink anyway. Might as well finish it.

  The elk men’s song ended. A few seconds later the loud twang of steel guitars sounded, along with a fiddle before the vocals kicked in. It took Shay’s brain a few seconds to realize that even though the instrumentation sounded straight Nashville, the singer was squeaking like a dolphin. For all she knew, it was a dolphin. Maybe Douglas Adams had been right all along, but instead of being aliens from outer space, they were from Oriceran.

  The tomb raider blinked and shook her head. “There’s a girl. A teen girl. Half-human, half-Drow.”

  Tubal-Cain arched a brow. “Half-Drow? How very interesting and unlikely. They are a proud people. If you think I’m contemptuous of humans, you should understand how…arrogant they are when it comes to other species, let alone your kind.”

  Holding back from the man wasn’t likely to get the help she needed.

  Shay shrugged. “It is what it is. Anyway, this girl is…different. Blind in the normal sense, but she can see energy and souls. I’ve been doing some reading, and I’ve heard of magical glasses that can replace or supplement people’s senses. I’d like her to be able to both see normally and see energy, or at least see more than she can now.”

  “It’s certainly possible, but it’s trickier than you might think. Magic isn’t like technology. It’s not about just doing the right thing with the right ingredients. Making something such as you ask for might take a while, and it will cost you much more than anything you’ve asked from me before.”

  “I’ve found metal you didn’t think I’d find, and I also located a cousin you didn’t think I’d find. I’ll pay what I need or get whatever you ask if you can produce the glasses.” Shay shrugged. “You know I have the skills.”

  The gnome and the tomb raider stared at each other for a few moments.

  Tubal-Cain broke the tension with a smile. “Very well, Miz Carson. I’ll see what I can do.” He gestured around the bar. “You seemed a little nervous when you walked in.”

  “What can I say? There’s a little more concentrated Oriceran weirdness in here than I’m used to.”

  The gnome chuckled. “You know what I find interesting? That you find this strange. Earth is strange to me, a planet dominated almost entirely by a single intelligent species. Yes, you have magical beings hiding here and there, but it’s mostly just humans, humans, and more humans. It’s so…boring. It’s amazing that you didn’t blow yourself up out of ennui.”

  Shay laughed. “Well, we’ve got a lot of different types of humans, at least. That has to count for something.”

  Tubal-Cain downed more of his drink. “The magic is back, which you’d think would be a huge change, but for the most part, things are continuing as they always have. You’re overly reliant on technology, and your governments are obsessed with controlling magic rather than embracing it and improving your stagnant societies.”

  “Can’t just ignore thousands of years of how things have flowed.” Shay gulped some of her Lambic and savored the cherry notes. “Don’t know if any of it makes a difference though, really.”

  “Oh? What do you mean?”

  “Like you said, Earth is overrun with humans, and I don’t know how much human nature has changed just because of new tools. Magic’s just another tool, like technology.”

  Tubal-Cain set his glass down. “You don’t think the return of magic matters?”

  “I just know that ancient societies on Earth didn’t have computers, cars, or guns, but they weren’t all that different from us today. Rich people, poor people. Assholes who get away with shit, and the average person just trying to survive day-to-day.” Shay swigged her drink. “The more I look into history, the less I think it repeats itself. It’s more that shit just never changes because we’ve convinced ourselves it has. The trick is for humans to accept that, and then, and only then, can we do something about it.”

  The gnome nodded. “I can’t say that I disagree. It’s inevitable, I suppose. Your kind is too short-lived. Humans are always running around in a desperate rush with death hanging over you. It’s beautiful in its own way, but it also means that you lack any sort of long-term perspective, and may always lack it.”

  Shay smirked. “Yeah, don’t get too smug there, Tubal-Cain.”

  “Oh? You were the one comp
laining about things being the same for humans.”

  She nodded toward some elves on the dance floor. “Not convinced Oriceran is all that different than Earth. Sure, you’ve got an untold number of races and shit, but at the end of the day…” The tomb raider laughed and pointed at the ceiling, which she now realized was shrouded in a semi-translucent mist. “This place is called the Great Treaty. You needed that treaty to save your world. Good old-fashioned near-apocalypse. Almost human.”

  Tubal-Cain snorted. “And it lasted thousands of years. Your treaties are worth nothing.”

  “Just saying that there are a lot of nasty Oricerans out there, and not just Atlanteans. I think your treaty only lasted as long as it did for the same reason our planet’s been able to avoid World War III—mutually assured destruction. The difference is, it took our human asses way too long to develop city- and planet-killing tech, but you magic slingers had it a long time ago.”

  The gnome smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “And now Earth and Oriceran are connected again. If things are as you say, it doesn’t matter because even with your people in the know, they are still just humans in the end with all the same foibles.”

  “Yeah. We are.” Shay laughed.

  “What’s so amusing?”

  Shay shrugged. “Don’t you think it’s better that way?”

  “What?”

  “That humans are the same. It means we have some chance of getting through the next few decades of the return of magic without having to throw away everything we thought we knew.”

  Tubal-Cain nodded slightly and picked up his glass. “I will say this… You’re anything but boring, Miz Carson.”

  Shay picked up her glass. “Well, how about a late toast to not being boring?”

  The gnome clicked his glass to hers. “To not being boring.”

  14

  Peyton slapped on a safari hat and stared into a full-length mirror he’d set up in the Warehouse Three Annex. Some people might claim that the hat clashed with the black silk dress shirt he had on, but he liked the contrast in color and texture.