by John Conroe
The topmost magical battery was so full of power, the residual was quite simply breathtaking.
“So you’re okay with this idea?” I asked.
“It is not without risks, but having both Stacia and Chris with you will greatly reduce many of those dangers. Moreover, I am thoroughly aware of how you have wrestled with the aftermath of your previous visit. You have unfinished business on that world. Add to that the very real need for answers to the questions Chris posed to you and the decision becomes heavily weighted toward taking the leap.”
“Alrighty then. What’s your estimated time till full charge?” I asked.
“I would prefer you make your own estimate before I provide my data. I feel that it is likely that your biological ability to detect magic is more sensitive than my electronic sensors.”
I reached ever so gently toward the bark-covered outside of the charging disc. The power got stronger the closer my left hand came to it, but I did it slowly enough so that there was no shock when I finally touched wood. After a couple of seconds of just feeling the energy field, I moved my hand to the quartz, hovering a couple of millimeters over it.
“Seventy-five to eighty percent,” I said.
“Be more specific, Father.”
I thought about it. Seventy-five? No. Higher. Seventy— “Seventy-seven,” I said.
“I concur. Time left to charge?”
This time, I just let the trickle of power from each drone flow over my hand. “Like another day and a half,” I said.
“I estimate thirty-five hours and twenty-eight minutes,” Omega said.
“Good. That’s almost a whole day better than what we told Chris.”
“You should consider spending the night here. You are tired, there is a bit of fog on the roads tonight, and your aunt has expressed that particular wish four times to Darcy since you’ve been out here. I will wake you in plenty of time to reach Arcane for your meeting.”
When I entered the living quarters, I smelled popcorn—and bacon. Then I heard my aunts talking and my feet slowed themselves to a full stop just out of sight. Not my usual thing, but this conversation sounded different.
“So why is she with him?” Darcy asked. Immediately I knew I was the him and Stacia was the she.
Thanks for the vote of confidence, Darcy. Although, to be honest, I’d asked myself the same question plenty of times before.
“What be ye asking, dear heart?”
“I mean, she can have any man she wants. Why our Declan?”
“Sure, she’s a brilliant knockout she is, but are ye forgetting the wee little problem of her turning into a giant bloody wolf?” Ashling asked. “It’ll no be a regular life of husband and wee ones for that lass.”
“Okay, so maybe that scares off most normal men, but what about other werewolves—Alpha wolves?”
“First, I dinnae think she can have any man. There’s at least the one what’s off-limits,” Ashling said. “Second, have ye ever given thought to how it must be? Turning into a great nasty beastie? Controlling the heaps o’ rage and anger? Ye turn from just a slip of a thing into a meat shredder bigger than any man. Can ye imagine the horror—the rage—the power? ”
“Well no, not like that. But it sounds like you have,” Darcy said.
“Oh, I can well imagine it. Ye’d never have to fear a man again. But on the flip side, ye might well be a danger ta yer loved ones.”
“Good reason to seek out a strong Alpha,” Darcy said.
“Oh ye might think so, but she’s not yer ordinary uncanny monster, now is she? She changes faster and smoother than any were ever seen,” Ashling said.
“You’ve been stalking the girl?” Darcy asked.
Ashling snorted. “She’s hooked up with my boy. I know all there is to know about that girl. But don’t you think the Alphas see a piece o’ arm candy… a bed warmer that might be breeding material fer super wolf kiddos?“
“When you say it like that, it sounds not so great,” Darcy admitted. “In fact, it sounds a bit like the witches with Declan.”
“Right ye are, Darce, and then comes our fine lad,” Ashling agreed. “Facing the exact same problem. And he’s the greatest of all times. Steady like the very Earth, itself, he is.”
“Declan? Steady?” Darcy asked, incredulous. “I get the greatest part, but steady?”
Frankly, I was right there with her. Me? Steady?
“Don’t ya then? Just how many folk would ye be trusting with that lad’s powers? Like to be giving atom bombs to school kids, now isn’t it? But that boy was the first bloody three-power witch to walk this world,” Ashling said. “And we raised him to never forget it, now didn’t we, his mother and me self. And you, too. And now he’s got the fourth power. Does he misuse any of it? Ever? Attacked this very morning by an unnatural killer he could have burnt, zapped, or crushed like a bloody bug. But that’s not what he does now, is it? No, on account of a wee slip of a girl that he doesn’t even know, does he? So he makes up a new spell, a shiny new Crafting right on the spot. Drains the Red Cap’s liquids right out, so the lass is soaked in water instead of her own blood. Bloody brilliant. No, Darcy my dear, there’s not many to control the Craft like that lad. His mother would be so bleeding proud, her heart would burst, now wouldn’t it?”
“You have a point. And you think that’s why she chose him?” Darcy asked, considering.
“More like the reason her wolf chose him. I’m thinking the rest came with time, I do. You know what that boy does, Darcy? Whatever it takes. Don’t ya see. He does whatever it takes to help his friends and family, to protect and to serve. Just like some others I know.”
I found myself edging around the corner till I could see their reflections in the black glass door of the microwave over the range.
My aunt was frozen in the act of pouring melted butter over two bowls full of popcorn, one large, the other medium. Darcy was staring at her but Ashling was looking into the bowl but not seeing it. A single tear trickled down her cheek.
“No, me luv, the girl found the very bedrock o’ the earth to rely on. No, the question is what does he see in her, isn’t it?”
“Offhand? A drop-dead gorgeous blonde with a body that stops traffic, who’s as smart as he is, can hand him his ass in a fight, and is loyal like a wolf,” Darcy said.
“’Tis truth,” my aunt said, lifting her head from the bowl and looking square at the microwave door and square into my reflected eyes. “Did ya check on yer great beasties while ye were out there, lad?” she asked me without missing a beat. Darcy whipped around as I moved fully into the doorway. Busted.
“Did you hear us?” Darcy asked, frowning.
I shrugged, my head turned slightly so that my own traitorous tear on my right cheek was hidden from view. “Same question I’ve asked myself a thousand times.”
“Well, now yer knowing the truth o’ it. Don’t be letting it go to yer head, laddie, or I’ll have ta bring ye back down ta earth me self I will,” Ashling said.
I surreptitiously wiped away the offending tear and continued slowly into the room.
My aunt handed me the large bowl and took the medium-sized one for herself and Darcy to share.
“If it’s okay, I think I’ll just sleep here tonight. My container will take too long to warm up so I can just crash on the couch,” I said. Aunt Ash didn’t say anything for a second, her eyes looking slightly shiny.
“Omega says there’s fog,” I added, suddenly unsure.
A smile broke out on her face. “Of course ye should sleep here, then. That great pile of programs yer always going on about is likely right.”
“I also pointed out that he is very tired after the events of the day and there is no pressing reason to return to the college tonight,” Omega said from my aunt’s Bose Bluetooth speaker.
“’Tis a reasonable thing to consider, it is,” Ashling said, nodding without missing a beat.
Darcy shifted her feet, her face slightly pink. “Well, what are we all doing still
in here? I’ve got the Earth’s mightiest superheroes cued up and ready to roll,” she said.
“Mightiest? What would Diana Prince, Clark Kent, and Bruce Wayne say about that?” I asked, deliberately picking a fight.
“Oh Goddess, please save me from the arguments of wee children,” Ashling implored the ceiling as we walked into the living room.
Darcy ignored her. “Come on? Really? Iron Man’s suit counters anything Batman’s got on his belt. In fact, old Batty had to copy the suit to take on Superman, who, by the way, would get his ass kicked by both Thor and the Hulk.”
“What about Wonder Woman?” I asked.
“She’s really hot,” Darcy said with a grin. “And would kick all their asses.”
“On that we can agree,” I admitted.
Chapter 6
I made it to breakfast like two minutes late. Chris saw me instantly when I entered the dining room, waving me over to his table. At first glance, it looked like he’d grabbed some food for me, as a fully loaded second plate was lined up in front of the one he was going to town on.
I knew better. It was all for him, and probably thirds and fourths as well.
Coming back from the buffet line with my own plate of poached eggs, toast, and bacon, I almost laughed out loud at the expressions on the other Arcane students eating breakfast as they first realized who was seated among them and then a few seconds later when they realized how much food he was ingesting.
“Stacia and ‘Sos are on their way up from the city by car. They’ll be here before lunch,” Chris said as I sat down. I nodded because I knew that already. Did he think we didn’t text each other all day long? “Doc Singh reviewed the government autopsy reports, thanks to Omega. Turns out there’s a layer of tissue under the scalp of the Red Cap attackers that is basically derived from vampire cells.”
“Whoa. How’d they get that?” I asked around a mouthful of bacon. The answer hit me instantly. “Zinnia’s gift is with DNA manipulation. They must have grabbed some Darkkin somewhere and experimented with his or her V-Squared tissues. Probably long, long ago, because aren’t Red Caps ancient Brit folklore?”
“Scottish border folklore. They were said to inhabit abandoned castles along the border between England and Scotland,” he said, inhaling half an omelet.
“Why would she do that?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I spoke to Ian Moore last night. He said that you can never, ever forget that the elves are not human and you can’t assign them the same motivations and behaviors of a human. A little like the difference between weres, vampires, and regular humans, but even more pronounced. Probably more like the very old, old vampires.”
“Like Senka?” I asked.
“Like Senka. She says the queens like do things just because they can. They are both even older than she is and you know how she gets fascinated with new things. She says that the oldest vamps will do seemingly crazy things just to amuse themselves.”
“Isn’t she the oldest?” I asked.
“That we know of. Tanya has asked if there are any older and she changes the subject.”
“Does that mean that she does weird stuff just to amuse herself?”
“Oh she would, but she says she doesn’t have to anymore. Apparently all of us on Team Demidova are more than fascinating enough,” he said, waving a fork of hash browns around.
“So the Red Caps soak their heads with blood to give them their speed and strength, using modified vampire cells. Makes you wonder what other things those elves have done with vampire genes. Oh, and werewolf genes. Remember the mother-daughter team we brought back? Ari and Aylin?” I asked.
He grinned. “Are you kidding? Tanya is so excited by their contributions to the medical sciences division. You’re talking about the very small amount of genetic alteration they have that seems to be from wereleopard LV variants?”
“Yes, they—the queens—must have messed around with the LV and V-squared viruses.”
“And that’s the next part of our mission. The Coven is concerned about what else they might have produced… say, like, vampire or werewolf specific poisons… or cures?”
“Cures? You think they might have a way to kill the virus without killing the host?” I asked.
A pack of younger witches entered the dining room, and Mason Conboy split away from them and plunked himself down at our table without a how-do-ya-do. “Holy shit, that Jenks douche sucks. Hey you’re like that God Hammer dude right?” he asked.
“Ah Mason, we’re having a meeting here,” I said, instantly annoyed.
“Yeah, what about?” he asked, reaching for my bacon.
A spark jumped onto my hand as I felt my eyes narrow. Stealing bacon is a capital offense.
His hand stopped as he eyed the blue arc traveling up my fingers. “Whoa, dude. Chill out. You’re way too tense,” he said, pushing back from the table and giving me a slightly hurt look. Now I suddenly felt guilty. Was I too tense? Did I just overreact badly? I glanced at Chris and froze.
He was watching the retreating Mason and his face was blank. But his eyes were intensely purple. I felt my shields come up over my skin, my well-trained response to danger. Those very eyes and that exact color had been a major factor in creating my honed battle reflexes. That look was Grim staring out at the world, not Chris.
“That boy does not like you,” he said, still watching as Mason rejoined the teen witches. Grim’s voice is deeper than Chris’s and usually devoid of inflection. He turned my way and now those eyes were staring at me. “You did not see it, but I did. He gave you a micro look of hate as soon as your eyes were off him. Who is he?”
“His name is Mason Conboy. New here. Special placement by Nathan Stewart, I think. Something about his family’s immigration status. They’re from someplace in Europe I think. Not sure,” I said, holding very still.
“He hates you and you mustn’t trust him,” Grim said, then his features relaxed into Chris’s normal expression. “Honestly, Declan, if it caught my other half’s attention, it’s something to watch very carefully.”
“You really think he doesn’t like me? I’ve been helping him adjust. He’s really… awkward. Like just sitting down like that. Poor social skills.”
“No, that was calculated. That was being nosy. Omega?” Chris asked.
“Mason Conboy is the eldest child in his family, which consists of his Syrian-born mother and two younger sisters, ages four and nine. His father, who is of Croation and Korean descent, died while evacuating the family from Syria. The family lived for a time in Croatia, but their economic conditions were exceedingly precarious. Mason came to Oracle’s attention when the family was crossing by boat to Italy, although the actual Oracle report was never committed to electronic record, so I have no details.”
“They didn’t file a digital report?” I asked.
“There are increasing instances of several US agencies resorting to handwritten communications and reports for sensitive material. This trend started when senior members of President Garth’s cabinet became aware of my existence.”
“So the details of the kid are classified by Oracle and written in ink on paper,” Chris said, raising his eyebrows at me. Point taken.
“Got it. Keeping as many secrets as they still can,” I said, surprised by this turn of events.
“Not for much longer. Micro drones will eventually penetrate their physical data storage sites. They have engaged anti-drone measures but I will overcome them in fairly short order. The data regarding Mason Conboy is now a high priority target.”
“You need to up your paranoia a bit,” Chris joked.
“Isn’t that what Lydia and Arkady are for?” I joked back. We both paused and thought about it. Maybe they weren’t jokes at all.
“And Nika,” Chris finally agreed.
“So back to the question of Fairie? What else?” I asked.
“The biggie… what did the elves get in return for trading the Black Frost tech? Also, who’s double-crossing who? What can
we do to help the division?” he asked.
“Well, to answer the second part, once I’m on ground, in the Middle Realm, I can either help Zinnia’s troops along in their quest to attack Morrigan, or stop them, or both. Last we knew, Morrigan was licking her wounds in her northernmost fortress. We’ll have to see what we can see.”
“Agreed. How far does your sense of the Middle Realm extend? Ten miles? More?” he asked.
