Fae:Generations (Heirs of the Vegas Fae Book 1)

by Tom Keller

  "Why a human?" Jazzy asked.

  "Magical beings don’t need them," he replied. "They'd craft the spell on their own, if they were powerful enough. If not, they'd find someone who was. Sure, there's a few minor spells that get shared; it's easier that way. But a Fae doesn’t gain magical power by summoning or binding another. They can’t suck it out of each other. They either have it, or they don’t. And you can forget Demons, they don’t need spells like that either, except to be summoned. That only leaves humans. Which reminds me. There's something else that bothers me about all this. The Demon told us his name."

  "Why is that significant?" It was my turn to ask a question.

  "You need to know the name of the Demon in a summoning," he said. "It's part of the spell. But he offered it to us freely."

  "I got the impression he was just trying to intimidate us," I replied.

  "I'm sure he was. But there was something else there," Jesse said. "Look. Let's say someone summons a Demon by magic. They either broker a deal for something the Demon wants, or they use a spell that binds the Demon to them. This Syrach is a Duke of Hell, not someone that's going to be tricked easily. That means he probably cut a deal for something. Something important enough to cast forth one of his own lieutenants. A minor Demon, sure, but powerful enough in his own right."

  "He didn't seem that powerful when I split his skull open with that knife," Jazzy said, chuckling. "Oh wait… we killed them both." She gave the Wizard a wink. "Just saying."

  "That's not the point," Jesse said, sounding exasperated. "Besides, they're not dead. All we did was send them back to Hell."

  "Close enough for me," Jazzy said.

  "Look," Jesse replied. "Sure. We beat them. That's what we do. But Surgat isn’t just another run of the mill, minor deity. He is the Demon of locks. Comprende? That means he can't be bound, not even by magic. Except by Syrach, who holds his leash. Which is why we had to kill him. Nothing else would have stopped him."

  "What about our boy's soul?" I said. "Isn’t that worth something.

  "One soul? And that of a second-rate burglar? I'm sorry, Jefe. Selling your soul is chump change to someone like that. Syrach is the kind of Demon that deals wholesale, and he's not going to offer up one of his best Demons for just anything. No, that guy was just a pawn. Someone needed him to keep their hands clean. I doubt the idiot even knew what he was dealing with. We're missing something here. We need to find out what why that Grimoire was important enough for somebody to offer a Demon a lucrative enough deal that he couldn’t refuse."

  "So why even keep helping him if he was just a pawn?" Jazzy asked. "Why didn't he just grab his soul when he got what he wanted?"

  "A deal's a deal," he replied. "It would have happened eventually, of course. But souls have to be given freely. It's in the contract, and it binds both sides just the same. He would have gotten what he was promised. But after that, all bets would have been off. You have to be damn crafty to beat a Demon like that."

  "All right," I said, draining the last of my coffee. "Let's get on it. Jesse, hit up your contacts with the Mages and Wizards. Dig up anything you can on these two Demons. Jazzy, I need you to go to the office. Check with Jim and see if you can find any mention of a Grimoire or book of spells that's unaccounted for. It doesn’t have to be recent; historical references will work too." I paused before continuing. "I know it's a long shot. But right now, we got nothing else to go on. Meet me back here tomorrow at noon. Might as well sleep in your own beds any chance you can."

  "What are you going to do?" Jazzy asked.

  "I'm going to have a little chat with our friend the Gnome. But let's just keep that amongst ourselves."

  "Are you sure that's wise?" Jesse asked. "You might catch some heat if he pitches a bitch about an official visit."

  "That's why I'm going alone."

  "It's your call, Jay," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "But I don’t want to come back tomorrow and find out I'm working with somebody else."

  "Don’t worry," I replied, slapping him on the back. "It's going to be very unofficial. I promise. I guarantee he won't have anything to complain about."

  ****

  Like I said, Gnomes were treasure hunters. One man's junk is another man's treasure, or so they say. I'd had plenty of contact with folks like that back when I worked the streets. I just needed to offer him something worth giving up what he knew, if anything, and I had a pretty good idea where to find something that might work. As soon as they left, I reached out with Fae magic to call Sendy, my father's Sky Fae. She was an Aurae, a flying messenger Fae, and like the breezes her kind were named after, she could go almost anywhere.

  Using my Fae resources could be considered a double-edged sword, but since Sendy answered only to my dad, what I was about to do wouldn't be considered a conflict with any part of my Fae Protector role. As far as the office went? Well, hell, if I could improvise, I might as well make it worthwhile and go for broke.

  "Good day, Lord Protector," Sendy said, as she popped into the room. She reached down to a pack strapped to her leg and pulled out a t-shirt, slipping it on before continuing. "How may I be of service?"

  Sky Fae's travelled topless, to keep their wings free. But Sendy had more than adapted to this world, having a pack at the ready whenever she appeared.

  "I need a favor off the books," I said, then immediately regretted my choice of words. The Fae weren't always familiar with human colloquialisms. "What I mean is, I need a personal favor. Nothing official. I'll understand if you're too busy."

  "Your father is away," she replied. "So, I am… What do the humans say? Free for the day. What is it that you require?"

  "First, I need you to take me to Alf," I said. Alf was an Imp, and an associate of my father. More importantly, like the Gnome, he was a collector of sorts, and he owed me a favor… or two. I had gotten him off the EAB expulsion list, after all.

  "That is easy," she replied. "As usual, he is at your father's. Is that all that you require?"

  "Not exactly," I said with a grin. "How'd you like to play detective with me?" Then I told her what I wanted to do.

  ****

  "Seriously?" Alf said, his leathery wings fluttering as he tried to maintain eye contact. "A Gnome. You jest, do you not?" Imps were known to be egotistical, and not fond of Gnomes.

  "Hey, I don’t always get to choose my targets," I replied. We were in my dad's living room. Alf was frequently there, helping my dad with one quest or another. "But he has information I need, so I can't go empty handed. And, I brought you this." I held out a wooden box, then pulled the top off, revealing an unopened bottle of Midleton, a rare Irish whiskey. Alf was a sucker for good whiskey, and Midleton was one of the finest.

  "Jay, Jay," he said, fluttering over to the bottle. "I never said I wouldn’t help. Come, let's have a seat and discuss this further. I believe you know where your father keeps the glasses"

  He flew into the kitchen, and had a seat on the table as I fetched two short tumblers from a cabinet. I sat down and poured a bit in both glasses, eyeing the Imp as he held up his thumb and index finger, prodding me to pour more. I filled it to the brim and pushed it toward him.

  "Now that was a proper taste," he said, slamming the glass down on the table. "Perhaps a wee bit more?"

  I refilled his glass.

  "You were saying?" he asked, as he drank again.

  "I was saying I need something to offer in trade. Something to get him motivated enough to tell me what he knows, if anything. Either way, I can't go empty handed. What do you have that will work? Something valuable, but that won’t break the bank."

  "He's a Gnome," he said, stretching his wings and laughing. "He wouldn’t know valuable if it bit him on the arse. I've got just the thing." He took another gulp, then flew down the hallway, stopping near my dad's office. I could hear the rustle of objects being tossed about before he returned a minute later.

  "This should tempt him well enough," he said, dropping a swath of white cloth onto
the table in front of me.

  "And this is what?" I asked, picking it up and examining it. It was about five feet long and three feet wide, white as snow and finely woven.

  "A simple veil," he replied. "But one worn by the Goddess Hestia, sister to Zeus and Demeter. Found it hidden below her throne on Olympus itself. That should loosen the Gnome's tongue."

  "Okay," I replied, not convinced. "How am I going to authenticate it? I doubt he's going to buy that description on my word alone."

  "Open it again, and look in the center," he said, shaking his head. "It is not the veil that is the prize."

  I did as he directed, noting that one long black hair was threaded into the fabric. Now that I knew where it was, it stood out amid the bright white fabric.

  "One whiff of that strand will have him salivating like a beast," he replied. "Trust me, the hair of a goddess is a treasure he will not be able to resist."

  "Interesting collectible," I said, recalling that several strands of John Lennon's hair had once sold for just shy of $50,000. "But is it too much for what I'm asking in return?"

  "He must feel that he got the better of the deal. That is the way of his kind."

  "If you say so," I replied. "So, what do I owe you in return?"

  "It is I that owe you, young Jay. I have not forgotten how you interceded on my behalf with your employers. Besides," he said with a chuckle. He lifted his glass and tipped it my direction, then drained the rest in one gulp. "That is not the only one in existence. There are three more where that came from. I can afford to part with one for a cause such as yours. But I will expect a full report when your quest is concluded."

  "Agreed," I said, topping off our glasses. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a thumb drive. "Let's go to my dad's computer. There's one more thing I need you to do."

  I was dozing on the couch when Sendy returned. The Imp was out of sight, hopefully completing the research project I'd asked him to look in to.

  "He left the office a moment ago," she said as I looked up. "He is empty handed and walks toward the inns."

  "The inns?" I replied. "Oh, Fremont street. Okay. What's his office look like?"

  "It is warded," she said. "The magic is strong, but no match for our kind. There are no guards."

  "Perfect," I replied, standing up. "Take me there." Who needs a Demon of locks when you can ride on the wind?

  It was still late afternoon, but the windows were covered and the room dark. The chair behind the desk sat on a raised platform, obviously configured so his diminutive size wouldn’t be so obvious to visitors. I took a seat on the full-sized leather couch that was placed on the adjacent wall, right below the safe I knew was hidden behind a painting. I didn't have to wait long. About 15 minutes later, I heard the sound of keys and the door opened. The distinct aroma of Chinese food filled the air as the Gnome stepped in and closed the door behind him.

  "What's this?" he muttered, spinning around and backing up, the food filled bag falling to the ground. He pulled a dagger from beneath his coat and pointed it forward. "Who dares to invade my sanctum? Speak quickly, or your life is forfeit."

  "I'm shaking in my boots," I said, raising a hand to mimic some magic as an invisible Sendy turned on the lights. No reason to let him know I wasn't alone, but a little theatrics never hurt in my game.

  "You!" he replied, pointing the dagger in my direction. "I know of you. How did you get past my wards?"

  "You really need to work on that," I said, getting up from the couch. "Might as well of left the door open again."

  "I do not think so," he said, holstering the weapon and picking up his take-out. He walked over to his desk and sat down. "What does the EAB want from me? I've done nothing to garner their attention. Your superiors will hear about this!"

  "Now I'm really shaking," I said, picking up a golden apple from his desk and examining it for a moment before putting it back. "Fortunately for you this isn’t an official visit. I'm just looking for a little information." I sat back down on the couch. "I hear you got burgled last week. Care to tell me what went missing?"

  "Bah," he replied. "I do not know of what you speak. I reported no crime to the authorities."

  "I didn't expect you would," I replied. "What would your clients say if that got out? Having things stolen from your office, right out from under your nose? Not exactly good for business. No, I'm sure you didn't report it."

  The Gnome said nothing in reply.

  "But I didn’t come here to argue. I came here to trade." I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the folded veil, tossing it down on the desk.

  "What is this?" he asked, staring down at the white cloth.

  "You tell me," I replied, then began to unfold it in front of him. I got about half way done before he snatched it up, sniffing at the material as his eyes widened. Alf had been right; I got his attention.

  "What is it that you propose?" he asked, quickly recovering from his surprise. He laid the veil down.

  "The veil in exchange for information," I replied. "A list of the items taken from your safe. I'll need your word that you've told me everything. Your oath on the Holy Mother should do." Gnomes aren't big on family, but they did worship Gaea, whom they called Holy Mother Earth.

  "Agreed," he replied, snatching the veil back up and putting it up to his nose. He breathed in deeply. "But you must tell no one what has occurred. I have a reputation to protect. Now tell me which Goddess the lock of hair belonged to. To verify its authenticity."

  "Hestia," I said. "The veil was hers, as is the strand of hair. Also, no one outside my team will know how I came across the information."

  "Bargain accepted," he said. "My oath on the Holy Mother that what I tell you is true." He got up from behind the desk and approached me, pointing to the painting. "You are correct, the office was burgled. They gained access to the safe. How they skirted the wards is beyond my comprehension; although you seemed to have no problem doing so. Like yours, whatever magic they used was untraceable. The only item taken was a book of spells. A Grimoire, if you will. It was bound in leather. It was said to be the book of Simon the Mage. A long-lost codex, it was purported to have been copied from the original sometime during the 16th century, as humans calculate periods of time. It was taken before I could examine it completely. I am not convinced it was genuine."

  "Any idea where it came from?" I asked. "I'll need to know how it came into your possession."

  "I acquired it locally," he replied, returning to his desk. "The day before it was stolen. I purchased it from a prospector by the name of Tom Harris. He claimed to have found it hidden amid the ruins of the Carmel in the Desert. It is north of the city. Near what was once known as Ashton, a railroad town abandoned in the '40s. There is little more I can tell you. I only handled the manuscript briefly. While it was certainly an ancient text, as I said, I cannot vouch for its authenticity. There are only rumors that such a book ever existed. But even as a forgery, it was worth ten times what I paid him, if for no other reason than its age."

  "Did you record his identification as part of the sale?"

  "Years ago, when I first bought from him. He also has a blog available on the internet, as is noted in my records."

  "How did you meet him?"

  "I have purchased antiquities from him before," he replied. "Usually coins and Indian artifacts. Some of value, some not. He is, at best, a grave robber. Most of what he finds has little value, but he has brought me a gem, or two, over the years. He contacted me last week and brought the book here. He wanted a quick sale, and cash. $10,000.00, which I paid. That is all I know." He pushed a log book toward me. "Bargain fulfilled."

  "Thank you," I said, as he pointed to the entry of the purchase.

  "If we are done here," he said, pointing toward the door.

  "I name the bargain fulfilled," I said, turning to leave.

  "Wait," he said, stopping me in the doorway and holding up the veil. "I am always interested in acquisitions such as this, should you run
across something similar in the future."

  "I'll keep that in mind," I said, then closed the door behind me.

  "An unpleasant creature," Sendy said, appearing in the hallway a moment later.

  "Why do you say that?"

  "He congratulates himself on taking advantage of you," she replied. "He does not think the information you acquired was as valuable as the veil. Why does he say that?"

  "Maybe he's not as good a treasure collector as he thinks," I said. "But value means different things to different people. I had to make him think he was getting the better deal to get what I needed. That is the way of some creatures. Even some of the Fae."

  "That is not very honorable."

  "I agree. But it is what it is."

  "As you say, my Lord, she replied, not sounding convinced. "How else may I serve you?"

  "Well, I got what I came for," I said, taking her hand. "Unless you have a Demon slaying kit in your pack there, I guess you can just take me back to the hotel."

  "One moment, my Lord," Sendy said, after we reappeared in my hotel room. "Alf has something for you." She disappeared and returned a few minutes later. "He asked me to give you this. He says he has included a note explaining what he has learned."

  "Thank you," I said, grabbing my laptop, and plugging in the thumb drive.

  "If I may be so bold. Are you not armed with weapons from your homeland?" she asked, continuing the earlier conversation. "They should be sufficient for your quest. I have watched your father slay many a Demon with his sword alone."

  "My father carries the sword of Zeus and Cronus," I replied. "Even so, you're right. My weapons are formidable. But Jesse and Jazzy are not equipped so well. We're a team, Sendy. Like you and my father. I need to make sure they are as well armed and protected as I am, and unfortunately, I can’t use my Fae armory to do so."

  "I have been in many battles with your father, and I believe I know what he would do in such a case.""