No Earthly Treason

by Genevra Black

  If Sissel noticed her crying, she didn’t say anything. A small blessing. Edie had already carefully wiped her eyes by the time they came to the lobby, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

  But her calm didn’t last for long.

  As they exited the building together, Sissel asked, “What now?”

  Edie was about to answer when she looked up from her sneakers and saw a white convertible parked at the curb. Leaning against it, arms crossed in front of his chest and a glare plastered on his face, was Cal.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Hey there, kid,” the revenant said through his teeth. “Been lookin’ all over for ya.”

  Edie’s stomach sank. She was supposed to be in charge of him, but she had never felt as powerless as she did in this moment. She shuffled from foot to foot like a child caught stealing from her mom’s purse. “Uh … hi.”

  Beside her, Sissel said nothing, staring between them.

  Cal didn’t acknowledge her presence anyway. He pushed off the car and stared Edie down, his voice no more than a growl. “Just wanted me to run and get some groceries, huh? Didn’t feel like inviting me on your whirlwind city adventure?”

  Anger burned inside Edie, mingling with fear, disappointment, and sheer exhaustion. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Why was he so fixated on following her? It did nothing to help his case. She flexed her jaw before mumbling, “It was none of your business, Cal.”

  His heavy brow shot up. “Ex-fucking-cuse me? Not my business? The only goddamn reason I’m here is to keep you out of trouble. You remember that, right?”

  Keep me out of trouble or keep me in the dark? Her cheeks burned. “I don’t need help,” she shot back. “I’m fine. Just take me home.”

  She made a move for Ghost, but Cal stopped her with a firm hand to the shoulder.

  “No fucking way.” His voice rose. “You don’t get to brush me off all day and then order me to take you home like I’m your christing chauffeur!”

  Edie glared at him. “Fine. What do you want, then?”

  “I want an explanation.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” With a rough jerk, she pulled herself out of his grip and turned, starting to walk away. If he wouldn’t bring her home, she and Sissel would find their own way.

  “See,” Cal said from behind her with a bitter chuckle, “that’s the thing about you. Somethin’ you and your old man have in common. If you don’t wanna do something, it’s not worth doing it at all, and to hell with everyone else!”

  Edie stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Screw you.”

  “I deserve to know what the fuck is going on!” He stabbed himself in the chest with a mottled forefinger. “Me! The bastard who’s been keeping you alive for the past two and a half fucking months.”

  “You want to know what’s going on?” She turned on her heel, raising her voice, too. “Join the club! You have been lying to me and keeping me in the dark this entire time.”

  Cal’s expression changed. The angry glare was replaced by shock for a moment, then uncertainty as he asked, “What— what do you mean?”

  Edie felt a surge of vindication. She’d caught him right in the middle of a lie; his face said it all. So, it was true. He was the betrayer that Indriði’s runes had warned her about—or at least one of them. Whoever is betraying you knows what they’re doing. They’re doing it to hurt you. They’re taking you for a ride, Edie, and they enjoy dominating you.

  No more.

  She bared her teeth. “You and Astrid have been misleading me. What do you people want? Do you just want to use my power like the Gloaming does, or am I some sort of sacrifice? Or does Astrid want to make me the Reacher, so she can blame all the horrible shit she wants to do on me?”

  “Huh?” Cal’s face twisted, and he shouted back at her, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Why the hell would you even stay here if there wasn’t something in it for you, Cal? It’s pretty hilarious that you’re calling me selfish, because that’s all you care about—you.”

  He drew himself up, shoulders tense, fists clenched at his sides. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

  “Answer the question! Why would you even stay here if there wasn’t something in it for you?”

  “Because I want to help!” he exploded, spit flying. “You fuckin’ think, after all the fuckin’ times I saved your useless ass, there would be any other answer?”

  “You’re lying! And I don’t need you, and I don’t want your help. I was so, so stupid for ever thinking I could trust you and Astrid.”

  “Trust me?” He pounded his chest with one hand. “Trust me? After everything I’ve put on the line for you, you don’t have the everfucking decency to trust me?”

  “I’ve seen the way you look at me, all guilty. For a guy who lived in Vegas for ten years, you have a shitty poker face, Cal!”

  The revenant lowered his arms, eyes gleaming with rage. He breathed hard as he stared at Edie, grinding his teeth. For a moment, it seemed like he was going to keep arguing; then his gaze deadened. Finally, he said, “You know what? Fuck you. Fuck you. And fuck this.”

  He rounded the front bumper of his car and slid behind the wheel, slamming the door hard. Once the engine started up, he fixed Edie with a look she had only seen directed at her once, when they’d first met: pure hatred.

  There was a challenge in his eyes, too. He was daring her to reach with her mind and force him to stop.

  She broke eye contact.

  The engine revved, and Cal sped off. Edie knew it would be the last time she ever saw him.

  When it was done, she felt empty. She let her bag slide off her arm, then let it fall heavily next to her as she sat on the curb, looking down at her shoes. The street felt eerily silent now that the yelling was over, filled only with the soft noises of traffic and birds singing. A cold wind ripped through the street, but she didn’t move, letting it play with her hair and sting her face.

  After a while, Sissel came to sit down next to her. “Well. Just as I thought. Trash.”

  Edie glanced at her. “Huh?”

  “That guy had big bastard energy.”

  “Kinda.” She sighed and scrubbed her face, and when she opened her eyes again, Sissel was looking on sympathetically.

  “You wanna stay at my house tonight?”

  Edie furrowed her brow. “We just met.”

  “So? We’re friends, right?”

  “Uh, I guess, but I’m not sure your dad would be cool with a strange adult having a sleepover with his fifteen-year-old child.”

  “You can lie about your age.”

  Edie stared at the kid for a second, sighed, then shook her head. “I’m good. I need to go home.”

  “Oh, okay.” Sissel shrugged it off and stood, putting her hands in the pockets of her sweater. “Let’s go catch the train. I’ll buy you some chicken nuggets on the way.”

  Edie’s stomach grumbled as she hauled herself to her feet. At least Generation Z knew how to make the best of a miserable situation.

  Chapter Twenty

  Regrettably, Edie was waking up.

  She turned over and hugged the covers around her face, trying to let herself be lulled back into sleep, but it wasn’t working. The sunlight had already woken her brain, and her thoughts wouldn’t grant her rest.

  A groggy moan escaped her. She uncovered her face, turning it a bit to glare at the sunlight coming through her window. As she turned over again, she avoided her phone. She didn’t need to know the time. It didn’t matter anyway.

  It had been a few days since the fight with Cal—or at least, she thought it had. If she was honest, she’d been in a stupor. Alcohol was the only thing that put her to sleep when she found herself up in the wee hours of the morning. Being alone in the apartment was already nerve-racking enough without lying awake, replaying the fight over and over in her head.

  At first, she had dared to hope that maybe Cal just needed some time to blow off steam a
nd would come back. Maybe explain himself. But it wasn’t long before her first instinct—that she would probably never see him again—had started to seem more likely.

  She was left feeling like she fucked everything up. No matter what she did, it seemed to make someone, somewhere, angry at her. So she had withdrawn, isolated herself from everyone for the last few days. Even Mercy. Her friend texted Edie every so often to check on her and ask if she wanted to come over to Tilda’s to hang out, but Edie didn’t. After everything that had happened, it was best for Mercy to stay away from her, anyway. Bless her friend for being so understanding and trying to help, but she had already suffered far too much because of Edie.

  With a sigh, she dragged herself out of bed, still dressed in what she had worn the day before. A little disgusted, she stripped and headed for the bathroom. It was still weird to be able to take a shower without hauling Fisk out of the tub. She hoped he was doing okay.

  After her shower, she dressed, started some coffee, and got a pan to make an egg sandwich. She hadn’t eaten well in the past couple of days, and her stomach was letting her know about it.

  The house was completely silent as she cooked. No Fisk moving around in the bathtub, no Cal watching TV, no Mercy typing away on her laptop or Satara coming through the front door. The house felt empty without them. It didn’t even really feel like her apartment. But what could she do? Those that she wasn’t trying to keep safe were associated with the Reach; she couldn’t trust them.

  Unexpectedly, she missed Cal most of all. The strange magic of their connection was absent, and it left her feeling empty. Without him nearby, the nightmares had gotten worse. She regretted some of the things she had said to him, but he was obviously guilty of something. She wasn’t that stupid, and he wasn’t that good an actor. He and Astrid were hiding something from her, just like Indriði had said.

  The smell of burning reached Edie’s nose, and she snapped back to reality, quickly transferring her slightly blackened bread to a plate. Her movements felt mechanical as she stacked an egg and a slice of cheese, then meandered into the living room. She finally retrieved her phone and checked the time; it was 9:04 a.m.

  Three days was long enough for wallowing. She still hadn’t heard from Indriði, but there must be something she could do. Without “help” from the Reach, Edie had to get back into the swing of things herself—she just wasn’t sure where to start. Finding someone to train her was probably top priority. She could call Tilda and ask her if she knew of any neutral practitioners of the ebon magics. It was a long shot, but….

  Edie stared out the window. She hadn’t seen Marius in months. He’d probably have a clue, but then, he might not tell her.

  A big blue mass suddenly thumped onto the surface of the window, making the pane tremble. Edie was so tired that she was more startled by the sound than the sight, and she took a few steps back, still holding her sandwich.

  Once she registered who it was, she relaxed and set her plate aside, going to the window. She bent slightly to open it, letting Percy in. He had his little acorn strapped to him again, and he opened it for her. Edie retrieved a letter while he investigated what was left of her sandwich with his pedipalps.

  “Welp, that’s yours now,” she mumbled as she unrolled the letter. It was in Indriði’s hand.

  Edie,

  I hope you’re feeling well. I’m sorry about how long it’s taken me to get this letter to you, but I had a lot to think about. I hope you can appreciate that I’ve thought long and hard to come to my conclusion, and I hope you won’t be upset with me.

  Edie’s blood went cold.

  I tried to help you come into your powers myself. I failed you. I didn’t want to admit it before, but I realize now that the only way we can find you the training you need, from the right people, is if we combine Astrid’s and my contacts.

  Although I still don’t trust Astrid or her Reach, I think the best thing we can do now is cooperate with them. Therefore, I’m prepared to accept her request that I join.

  You, personally, would be stronger with me there. I know all of Astrid’s tricks. With me as your adviser, you would have a real voice in the Reach, someone to advocate for you if she attempted to make you do something questionable, or if she did something questionable herself and then blamed it on you, “the Reacher.”

  Edie lowered the note for a moment, sitting on the couch, emotions in conflict. Her stomach twisted with anxiety, and her head reeled. On one hand, she had finished what she’d set out to do months ago at the party: recruit Indriði. She’d be happy to see Satara again. On the other hand, she couldn’t deny that she was still wary about Astrid and the Reach, even if she’d have someone there to advocate for her. To boot, the chances of Cal coming back were not good, even with Astrid’s help.

  What did Astrid have in store for her—or Indriði, for that matter, considering their long-held grudge? And on the off chance Cal were to come back, it wouldn’t be a comfortable confrontation. In fact, he might already have told the others what had happened.

  Maybe Indriði’s decision had come too late, and Astrid had already been alerted of Edie’s … betrayal, for lack of a better word. Maybe they wouldn’t even be welcome.

  She looked down at the note again.

  Since I have no idea what Astrid has planned for me, I’m not comfortable traveling to Shipshaven to meet her. Tell her she can meet me at my place to settle the terms of the agreement. I’ve enclosed a second, official letter you can give to Astrid. Obviously keep this one to yourself.

  And don’t worry, Edie. Remember, she needs you. She needs both of us. Between you and me, we can make her agree to anything.

  Give my people a call when you know what time she’s going to be there. The number for my security desk is 555-9999.

  Indriði

  Edie’s eyes wandered from the page to Percy, who was scarfing down the last of her egg sandwich. “All this trouble just because her boyfriend died?” she asked the spider.

  He turned his whole body to look at her, then scuttled over to the window to be let out. She opened it, and he zoomed off. She was alone again.

  With her heart in her stomach, she looked up the next commuter train to Shipshaven.

  It had taken Satara over a week of combing through Astrid’s book collection to finally find something that even half-explained their ljósálfr shade’s behavior. Land of Spirits: A Study on the Nature of Ancestors, Offerings, the Hidden Folk and Their Ways sat open in her lap, as thick and meandering as its title. Though Astrid had invited her to search for whatever information she could find, the valkyrie had barely spoken a word about Lylirion since they had brought the horn—which Astrid had also refused to talk about—back home. So, Satara studied on her own.

  She’d much rather be curled up reading about Aevana and Commander Coldheart, but having something to keep her busy had been a blessing this past week. It had become clear that, for whatever reason, Edie was avoiding her and Astrid. Astrid was less than pleased.

  This morning, Astrid had pledged to give Edie one day more before she went knocking at her door in person.

  For Edie’s own sake, Satara hoped she came forward before Astrid did that.

  As she skimmed the page before her, Satara opened another package of tea cookies, drawing the attention of Astrid’s smaller cat, Brenda, who had come upstairs to visit her. Satara had put Total Recall on for background noise. Nothing could focus a crowded mind like Arnold Schwarzenegger shouting, though Satara preferred Bruce Willis. The flashing colors and explosions of light danced on Brenda’s gray fur as she pawed at the cookies’ packaging.

  Satara had given up trying to convince the cat that she wouldn’t like tea cookies. She simply let the cat curl up to lick the crumbs, going back to the passage she had been reading.

  Astrid had been right when she’d said that not all light elves were good, kind creatures. According to what Satara had read so far, they had once been known to spread disease and kill crops whenever the mood s
truck them, especially when they didn’t feel like they were getting enough respect from Midgardians beyond their World.

  The lines between ancestors, land spirits, elementals, and elves had once been blurry and complicated—complicated enough to fill half this damn book—but now that humans were strong enough to rule an entire World, they influenced the universe, and their influence had made things more concrete and tangible than ever. These days, elves and other hidden folk tended to stay as far away from humans as they could possibly get, but a few old-timers still existed. In empty fields that somehow exuded energy, in stubborn stones and trees and roots, in the beautiful and isolated corners of the globe, their presence could still be felt.

  For most of the elves, however, things had changed. And those things had changed them. The bone-deep belief they had once fed on was now rare among unattuned humans, so the elves had adapted. They weren’t just part of the Yggdrasil’s flow anymore; they were their own real civilization.

  One chapter discussing their culture had stopped Satara in her tracks. When she’d turned the page, the insignia of a sun and two crossed daggers had glared back at her.

  The Shadowborne were a light elven rogues’ guild whose philosophy made her shiver. Whenever the sun shone on an object, it cast a shadow, and within those shadows lurked the soul of their order; still products of light, but hidden. The harsher the light, the starker the shadow. The guild was a mix of thieves, assassins, and other brigands, and though most of their crime was sanctioned by the nobility of Alfheim, they were their own independent body. Despite being outlaws in theory, most of them were loyal to their people.

  Throughout history, the Shadowborne had usually been allied with the Reach. Apparently not anymore, though, as Satara had never heard of them. Their turning to the Gloaming still didn’t seem likely, though. What elf, comfortably employed and protected by nobility, would take orders from the Gloaming? There was no reason. Humans’ worship was no longer vital to their survival; they had all the power they could ever want.