Freya's Founding: Book 2 of the Winging It Series

by Sonja Bair

  Crossing my legs in front of me and leaning onto my arms, I tried to focus on her words although the emotion from the news of the potential bombing still ran high. I shook my head and concentrated on the Elder situation. I knew that Aunt Tuva had been surprised not to be elected, but I hadn’t heard anything about Tilde. None of my recent phone calls to Sweden had included her. And I also was unaware of the split in opinions on Elder status. Being so far away from the rest of the Flock, the Elders didn’t have as large an opportunity to influence my life as those Alva still in Sweden. But now they were headed my direction, which made me, yet again, queasy about their motives.

  “So in a time of uncertainty,” I asked, “why do you think they’re bothering with the werewolf problem? Shouldn’t they stay in Europe and try to address their own problems before coming here?”

  “From what I can decipher, there are a plethora of reasons for the visit, but to me, there are two which are most concerning. First, the more control-hungry Elders can prove to their followers that through their strong leadership, the Alva can still influence and dominate other supernatural species.”

  “Viktor said that a show of power can be an opiate to the masses.”

  My mother chuckled softly, “That certainly sounds like something he would say. And I think that would be along the lines of what Tilde and some others are thinking.”

  “And what does Viktor himself think? It sounded like he was in favor of progress, but what does progress mean to him?”

  “Viktor has been mostly silent throughout the debate, but, for better or worse, he will need to pick a side soon. Tilde and her compadres are pushing hard to solidify Elder power.”

  “Okay, you said you had two major concerns. What’s the second?”

  She sighed, took my hand, and looked me in the eye. “I think they may try to make an example of you.”

  “An example? What do you mean?”

  “Of all the Alva, you have strayed furthest from the Flock. You live halfway around the world and have even become a member of a different supernatural species. Your actions have caused fear for those who believe the Alva Way is losing meaning and power. I’m afraid they will come down hard on you, maybe even try to strip you of your Alpha status and make you go back to Sweden.”

  “Oh, no, no, no. That’s not happening.”

  “I hope it doesn’t. And in fact, I don’t think it will or else I wouldn’t be leaving you here to face them alone. As a mother, it is hard to say this, but I don’t think I could help you here. You have always been a strong, independent person, able to wiggle yourself out of the tightest corner. I would just be in the way. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be thinking about you the entire time I’m in Perth.”

  Her eyes started to fill with tears, which triggered my own. All sorts of emotions rolled around in my head and heart. Trepidation for the coming conference, sadness at the state of the Alva, pride at my mother’s confidence in me, and confusion about what to do. Luckily, Elin stopped a major waterworks scene with frantic shushing and pointing. Our poachers were back.

  One carried in his hands some sort of large metal object, the identity of which I couldn’t distinguish from this distance. The argument from before was over, but based on their careful avoidance of each other, they were still upset. When one of them spotted the note, however, he called the other over with a shout. They read the note together, looked at each other with horror, and proceeded to do a great Keystone Cops imitation. Bumping into each other in their hysterical haste, they knocked one another over. Both scrambled up, and one grabbed the metal device and tried to heave it into the truck bed. But he misjudged his throw and, instead of making it into the back, smashed it full-force into the side of the truck. That’s going to leave a mark, I thought, smile on my face. Managing finally to get the metal object into the bed, he and the other man hauled themselves into the cab and cranked the truck on. I could hear the blasting accordions and tuba music all the way from our hideout. Elin started the giggles, but they soon passed to both my mother and me. We could see the poachers lurch to turn down the radio, and the music faded. But their main surprise was yet to come.

  The truck shifted into drive and started to haul tail out of their parking location, but they soon got to a small ditch where they either had to slow down or bottom out their truck on the steep decline. The brake lights flashed on and mysteriously—to them—the horn blared out deafeningly. We could see the confusion in the cab as the truck stopped and their hands waved around. When the driver let off the brake, however, the horn stopped.

  The truck lurched forward then accelerated again, but needed to slow down to navigate up the far side of the ditch. And again, as soon as the brake lights lit up, the horn correspondingly blasted. This time, it appeared that they figured out the connection as the brake lights turned off within a second or two. The three of us up on the hill lost it at this point. We gave up trying to be quiet and howled with laughter.

  The truck, now aware of what was up with the horn but not how to fix it, tried not to use its brakes as it wound its way through the backcountry. But the land was rough, they were trying to move quickly, and the habit to use the brake was too instinctive. For the next ten minutes, we could hear the staccato blare of the horn as they fled the scene.

  Tears were now running down all three of our faces as the noise faded into the distance, but this time, they were tears of laughter. I rolled to my back and tried to catch my breath. Elin was the first to say anything.

  “Those poor Elders—they don’t stand a chance against Freya.”

  Her words were well-intentioned, but they only reminded me that the Elders were arriving in three days.And, though the people around me seemed confident in my skills, I was drawing a blank on how, exactly, I was going to stand a chance against them.

  Chapter 13

  My mom left much too soon. Both Elin and I were worried about her safety at the peace accord, but she reassured us time and again that the situation was under control, thanks to the uninvited, but appreciated, Alva interference. But while I still worried about her, I distracted myself with something, something totally non-supernatural, that I had been looking forward to for a week—the first practice with my new band.

  McCleary and the Clearlies met in a garage behind the house of the singer-guitar player, Bill. I had auditioned for the band the week before Gina arrived, if what happened could be called an audition. The five of us had sat around, drinking beer and jamming to our favorite songs. Bill and I ended the session with the song “Dueling Banjos,” while the actual banjo player looked on in amusement. And then I was told I wouldn’t be kicked out if I showed up for practice next week. This week, the guys christened me as the newest member of the band by pouring champagne over my head. I was a sticky mess, but the champagne I squeezed out of my shirt tasted pretty good, so I didn’t complain too loudly. The next gig would be a free concert in the plaza fronting the Old Mission downtown in a couple weeks. I didn’t have a lot of time to learn the songs, so I would mostly be background. Toward the end of practice, red and blue lights flashed through the garage windows.

  Peeking out the window, Bill groaned. “That meddlesome Detective McCleary is here again.”

  “Man, music isn’t a crime. Why does that cop always have to get up in our business?” asked the banjo player with a smirk.

  The door swung open and the meddlesome detective strode confidently into the garage. She was immediately engulfed in a massive hug from her brother. Muffled noises came from around Bill’s chest, but whatever Joanne said got lost in his shirt. She pulled away after a few seconds, put her hands on her hips, and scolded her brother. “That was totally unprofessional. What if the bad guys saw you do that? My reputation would be in shatters.”

  Bill laughed and pulled the tail of her bright red French braid. “A single look like the one you’re giving me right now and the bad guys will be running out of town as fast as their legs will carry them. So why did you stop by? Neighbors compla
in?”

  “No, that insulation you put in keeps most of the sound from escaping. I came by to say hi to the newest band member. Hey, Freya, how’s it going?”

  Joanne was the person who had introduced me to the band. She was also the one who had helped me deal with all the problems that Jia had caused. Of course, being a natural unfamiliar with the supernatural world, she only knew part of the story.

  “Hi Joanne—I’m having a blast so far. How are the bad guys anyway?” I asked her.

  “Thankfully quiet. The biggest thing to happen today was a single car crash. Normally, I don’t deal with traffic problems, but most of the officers were busy with some training and I lent a hand. Guy slid off the road going around a corner. While I was there writing him up, he noticed a banana peel in the middle of the curve. Guess what he said…”

  “He didn’t try to say that the car slipped on the banana, did he?” I asked incredulously.

  “Oh yeah. And while I got a good laugh, he didn’t get out of the ticket.”

  “Is he going to appeal it?” I asked.

  Joanne and the band all groaned.

  While Bill asked Joanne a question about a family matter, I started to feel guilty about what was going to descend on San Luis soon. Werewolves aren’t always the bad guys— most werewolves lead perfectly respectable lives—but times were tough for the packs right now. I hoped to create a safe place for them to gather and resources to help them problem-solve, but the threat of trouble hovered like a dark cloud over my head. I wondered if I could warn Joanne without tipping her off about the supernatural side of the scenario. Nothing came to mind.

  “Another car pulled up,” Joanne said as she leaned her head around the door. “Are you expecting someone else?” Nobody was, but we all wandered out to see who was coming.

  The car door of the nicely appointed gray sedan swung open and the person who got out was similarly nicely appointed.

  “Alrik,” I said, surprised. “I wasn’t expecting you in town until tomorrow.” I gave him a hug. “How did you know I was here?”

  “Gina told me where you were and I decided to surprise you. My business finished early and I thought I’d come by. Is this your new band?”

  I introduced Alrik all around and when I got to Joanne, I assured him we weren’t channeling Men at Work; she really was a police officer.

  “Yes, of course, Freya. I met Detective McCleary my last time here. How are you?” Alrik asked.

  Shaking his hand, Joanne blushed slightly. Interesting.

  “What brings you to town again, Alrik?” she asked.

  “Freya is hosting some people for a meeting. I thought I would give her a hand.”

  “That reminds me, Freya.” Turning to me, she squared her shoulders, becoming Detective McCleary again. “A couple of days ago, we had some oddball come into the station and ask to talk to the officer in charge of Jia’s murder/suicide case. The guy claimed to have new information, so they sent him back to my desk. He didn’t actually have any more details and I passed him off as one of those crime fanatics. I was only half-listening, but then he mentioned your name in particular and said that I should keep an eye on your activities. I asked him what he meant, but he claimed he didn’t have any more information than ‘trouble was coming and it involved Freya Holm.’ At the time, I shrugged him off as one of the crazies we get on a daily basis, but his words have stuck with me. The guy’s name was Nick Smith. Do you know anything about him or what he was talking about?”

  I felt blood drain from my face. “I bet it was the same Nick I met in the alley where Jia died. He was poking around back there in a really suspicious way.”

  Alrik straightened at my words and glared disapprovingly. “Why were you in that alley in the first place?”

  “It was broad daylight and I needed to face my nightmares and get over them,” I said to him stiffly. “Besides, I didn’t see him back there in the beginning. But then he pops out of a corner and starts talking about the murders. In seconds, he figured out that I was part of the incident and asks all these questions. He weirded me out so I got out of there as quick as possible.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about that?” Alrik now looked disappointed in me. I didn’t mean to keep upsetting him, but I never seem to do the right thing around him.

  “Honestly, there wasn’t anything to tell. He just surprised me, gave me a case of the creeps, and then we went our separate ways. I didn’t give it much thought until I met him on the plane again.”

  Alrik closed his eyes at my words and his mouth turned down in a frown. “You met him again?”

  “Yeah, his seat was next to mine. He remembered my name and bothered me with a bunch of inane questions until I finally told him that I wanted to read my book in peace.”

  Joanne nodded slightly. “Was this Nick approximately forty years old, medium height, with sandy brown hair?”

  “That sounds like him. He was wearing this huge belt buckle with red stones both times I saw him.”

  “Exactly. That’s Nick Smith,” said Joanne. “I don’t know what his agenda was in coming to see me, but keep an eye out for him.”

  “I will,” replied Alrik, though she had been talking to me.

  “And should I be concerned about trouble coming, Freya?” she asked, humor in her voice.

  My stomach twisted itself into a knot and then did a somersault, but I think I managed to keep a calm face. “I don’t know what he was talking about.”

  “That’s what I thought. As I said, he was an oddball. Well, I should be off. I can’t wait to hear the new sound at your next gig. Bill, if you see Mom before I do, tell her Greg is still asking for a date.”

  “No way am I stepping in the middle of that mess,” Bill said. “Be safe, Joanne.”

  Opening the cruiser door, she called back, “I always am.”

  We all watched her headlights fade into the night, then turned back to the open garage. No one wanted to practice anymore, so we packed up our instruments and sound equipment. Bill offered another round of beer, but Alrik was getting restless, so I called it a night. Alrik didn’t want to go back to my house and, more to point, back to my houseguest yet, so I stuffed my cello in the trunk and we walked downtown.

  The whole way I groused about the meeting happening in two days. The plan was created by David, Alrik, and myself, and only the bare bones of the agenda had been passed to the

  Alphas and Elders. I figured they would complain about anything we sent them, so I allowed them to grumble about the simple structure of the meeting and then we could sneak the more controversial stuff in later. After about five minutes, Alrik was shifting uncomfortably, so I stopped mid-sentence and asked what was wrong.

  “I think you don’t realize the seriousness of the problem. If things go poorly, the Elders will probably order you to return to Sweden and, depending on how the werewolves behave, could even petition the USN for destruction of the packs.”

  “But the USN would never go for such outrageous measures.”

  “Probably not, and I’m not sure the Alva would even care what the USN says. You were raised by an Alva who helped create and believes in the organization, but the attitude toward the USN is not so strong in Sweden. We have been raised on the knowledge, right or wrong, that we are the most powerful supernaturals around. When our interests are compromised, we too often fall back on our strength as the solution to any sort of problem.”

  “And you are the face of that strength,” I pointed out.

  “But I am not the most hawkish of the Flock by a long measure. More than once, I have had to push back on Elder orders and promote more diplomatic measures. I will advocate for non-forceful measures to extract you from this werewolf problem, but remember, I can only advocate.”

  Nodding distractedly, I pondered what he said. Despite what Alrik might have thought, I did realize the seriousness of the situation. But it was easier to talk about problems like what to serve for dinner then to talk about an interspecies war. I
was trying all the tricks I knew to get everyone to play nice, but a lot of the potential trouble was out of my control.

  “I know that you aren’t allowed to tell me any Elder secrets, but can’t you give me any information at all about the split in opinion of the Elders?” I asked.

  “We’ve been through this, Freya. As Flock Arbitrator, I am privy to information that cannot be shared with non-Elders.”

  “I understand the confidentiality clause, but can’t you—not as Arbitrator, but as Alrik— help me understand what is going on?”

  “The Elder council is set up to take care of Flock problems. Trust them to do their jobs.”

  I growled softly. In a space of thirty seconds, he had admitted to pushing back on some Elder orders but then said I should refrain from doing the same. I was tempted to point out the hypocrisy, but knew that he would say that the circumstances were different and a fight would ensue. Since I needed his full help and support in the coming days, I decided that I would (for the moment) hold my tongue. Neither of us said anything for a full block.

  “Tell me more about this Nick Smith person,” said Alrik, breaking the tense silence.

  “There isn’t much more to tell,” I answered. “He popped up in strange places and then gave me the case of the heebie-jeebies, but nothing that he said was wrong or insulting. It was more of his underlying tone.”

  “Was he supernatural?”

  “No.”

  “Did he seem aware of the supernatural?”