by Martha Carr
Leira looked up to see her mother's arched eyebrow and lips pressed thin and let out a laugh, settling back. "I'm almost twenty-six years old and hunt bad guys, but one good look from Mom... Not sure you can ground me." She leaned closer to Correk and whispered, "This is not over. Sleep with one eye open, Elf."
"Okay, I brought the booze so we could do a toast out here." Mara dug out a plastic pitcher filled with champagne and orange juice. "Figured this looked a little more classy than a bottle in the middle of the park. She handed out the plastic flute glasses and poured everyone a glass.
"Mom, you do the first toast and then Nana."
Eireka held up her glass. "To all the Berens women past, present and future. May we always know better times, but at the least will always stand by each other's side... No matter what comes. And to the friends, and lovers who stand with us. Cheers to all of us as our family grows to include one more."
"Here, here..." Correk clinked his glass against the others and took a sip.
"Okay, Nana... your turn. No pressure but that was a good one. Don't fuck it up."
Mara laughed easily. "Our old joke when you were in high school. Nice reminder. Okay..." Mara shook out her hand, buying a little time as she gathered her thoughts. "Here goes... May we linger just long enough at the goodbyes to cherish and be grateful for what we've had and for what we still hold in our hearts, and may we just as swiftly turn to look toward the future at all the possibilities that still lay ahead. And wherever we land, may we always be of service to ourselves and others and find ourselves in good company as we trudge this road together."
"Aw, you did it, Nana. That was perfect." Leira lifted her glass along with the others, as she wondered what changes the future held and how many of them would have her looking back with gratitude. There are shifters in the world. A shiver passed down her spine as she took another sip.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Leira slept fitfully that night, tossing and turning as she dreamed of the beast chained to the wall. She woke with a start and looked at the clock next to her bed. Four a.m. The guest house was quiet and she could hear Correk rolling over in his sleep in the living room. Not even sure that was a dream. "It seemed so real." She sat up in bed and swung her legs over the side, standing up and stretching her back. "Water would be good." She smacked her lips together and scratched her head just as her phone began to buzz on her night stand.
She looked down already knowing it was General Anderson. He was the only person who called at all hours.
"Hello, sir. Must not be good news."
"It's not the best. There's a cache of artifacts up for grabs and there's not much time. They're in a tricky location, 2.4 miles under water in the North Atlantic. Closest land is Newfoundland. They're in the hull of an old shipwreck from the last century. I've sent you the coordinates and there's a plane waiting to take you to the coast and fly you out by helicopter. News of more treasure to be found on the shipwreck is about to break on social media but we've been able to keep out the parts about anything magical, so far. We need to get there ahead of the run of the mill scavengers this time. There could be people on site who know nothing about an artifacts race and just want the adventure or to get rich. We'll be sending out extra crew for that reason. Alan Cohen and his team are accompanying you. Meet at the government hanger in one hour or less for take off."
"Do we know what the artifact looks like?"
"It's a crown in the shape of silver vines. There may be more. I trust you'll be able to tell the difference. Patsy and Lois will be on call if you need any online assistance. That's all."
Leira heard a click before she could answer him. Moments later the coordinates appeared on her phone. 41°43.5'N 49°56.8.’
A crown made of vines. I wonder...
She changed quickly, brushing her teeth and doing her best to get the piece of her hair sticking straight up to lie back down again. She slipped into her running shoes and leather jacket and crept into the living room, gently shaking Correk till he opened his eyes. "What's happened? Are you alright?" He sat up, rubbing his eyes, swinging his legs to the floor.
"I'm okay. Everyone we know is okay. I'm headed out on a mission but I have a question for you. We're going in search of an artifact that's a crown in the shape of silver vines." Leira let that sink in...
Correk stopped rubbing his eyes and looked at Leira. "You think it might be from the Light Elves' royal court. It's possible. Where was it found?"
Leira held up her phone to show him the coordinates and he repeated the numbers, his eyes glowing as the lines of a map appeared between his hands. "Turner showed me how to do this."
Leira gave him a crooked smile in the darkness of the living room. "Pretty cool."
Correk moved his hands around, shifting the map while a small orange ball remained steady over the coordinates. "Something about this seems familiar. Did the general say the name of the ship that sank?"
"No, and I don't have a lot of time before I hit the road. Did the royal court lose anyone in the last two hundred years in a sinking?"
"There was a princess who was a cousin to the King and Queen. Her name was Sophia, and she liked traveling to this world to play among the humans in high society back in the 1900s. New York City was one of her favorite places or Vienna. I used to listen to her stories of salons that held court with painters and writers. She said it was like being in the Light Elves court but with far less formality. I think she found the Queen and King a little stiff."
"Go figure."
"I was enthralled by her tales of dancing in great ballrooms or riding on the new steam engines."
"I can relate to that last part. Sometimes I forget how old you are. It was frowned upon to use portals like that but she had a strong will."
"That strong will did not end well for her."
"Or more than fifteen hundred others, as I recall and more than a handful were magical beings. It has to be hers and if it is that means that crown holds magic from generations of Light Elves. I should go with you."
"You can come to the hangar with me but I can't guarantee they'll let you on the plane. Or you can trust me to bring it back and you continue your lessons as the Fixer with Turner Underwood." Leira put her hand on Correk's shoulder. "It'll be okay. We have to get used to this. You're going to get called out even more often than I do but we'll be able to come back and tell each other all the wonders we saw that day, or what creepy thing tried to slime us."
"If the crown is there, there should be a necklace nearby that holds just as much power. Every royal has one, some more powerful than others. They should both be returned to Oriceran."
"I will pass along that message with no guarantees. But at least I can stop it from falling into the wrong hands and becomes part of something macabre. That would be a gruesome twist to the tale of Princess Sophia. Go back to sleep if you can. I hope to be home by dinner. Will you be around?"
"I never know what the days hold, these days. You'll need a warmer jacket. The North Atlantic is never warm this time of year."
Leira went to the hall closet and dug around in the crate in the back for a knit cap and a pair of gloves and stuffed them into her backpack. She stopped at the door and turned back for a moment. "What was the name of the ship Princess Sophia was on?"
"The Titanic. Have you heard of it?"
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Leira pulled up in the green Mustang to the government hangar. "The Titanic... Kind of a big detail for the general to leave out. Have I heard of it? I'm the king of the fucking world... I've heard of it." She got out and slung her backpack over her shoulder, shutting the car door as she took an assessment of the situation.
There were a lot of people milling about in the hangar, getting the plane ready or checking with the helicopter that would be waiting for them on the other end in Newfoundland. Alan Cohen was in jeans and a green puffy coat and heavy boots, wearing a knit hat standing near the wing of the plane next to four other agents who were all bundled up for the cold.<
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"They have to be sweating their balls off waiting to leave Austin. Every last one of them must be a Boy Scout. Already prepared."
Alan spotted Leira and gave her a wave, breaking into a smile that he quickly dropped as the other agents looked at him.
"Yeah, that's not awkward..." muttered Leira as she walked into the light just outside the open hangar. She joined the PDF agents as Alan introduced her to everyone. "You remember Mark and Gail? This is Agent Grundy and Agent Watkins, both experts at operating the small submarine that can get us to the ocean floor. This is Agent Leira Berens, our own form of special ops who will be handling the artifact once we find it."
The two agents gave Leira a curt nod but made no movement to shake her hand. Leira was getting used to it. Nobody wants kooties. Some of them were afraid of what might happen and stories of the black mist trying to slurp up agents had made the rounds and even grown a few new details. Alan noticed, scowling but moved everyone toward the plane. "We should get moving. We're on a tight schedule to get in and out before any media planes circle over the area and catch us poking around. We have to be done by midday. No later. Those are the estimates of when we might have company."
The flight on the plane was too noisy for casual conversation and everyone kept to themselves reading a book or playing music. Leira shut her eyes and got a little more sleep, resting her head against the jump seat. They landed and were quickly escorted off as the sun was rising, running for the waiting helicopter, its blades already spinning. The helicopter landed on a Navy ship not far from the coordinates and left not too long after depositing its passengers.
Leira watched it go. "We are leaving this ship tonight, right?"
"That's correct. We want to attract as little attention as possible while we're out here. They'll be back by noon and we'll make an assessment of the mission at that time."
The other agents were already heading inside to get warm and wait for further instructions. Leira stayed outside a little longer to get away from the cold shoulders and to look out over the ocean.
"Sorry about the other agents' behavior." Alan came and stood next to her.
"Not your responsibility to make them play nice."
"It kind of is but I have to pick my battles. I think they're afraid you could turn them into some small woodland creature if they piss you off."
"That hasn't come up yet. I think that's a more advanced lesson. How accurate is this information? I mean, what makes anyone think there's any kind of artifact down there? I thought everything that could be taken from the Titanic was already in a museum somewhere."
"We did too but we may have been wrong. There's been stories all along about the Titanic being haunted, but everyone chalked that up to the ship and what happened. Then we got this video." Alan held out his phone and showed Leira a video of the ocean floor near the rusting hulk of the Titanic, encrusted by shells and other sea life.
"I don't see anything out of the ordinary."
"Keep watching."
A larger fish passed by the screen, stirring up the sand along the bottom as a purple glow started to emanate from the ocean floor. A school of mackerel that had been swimming in large formation scattered in all directions as if someone had lit a bomb in the center of them. The video went closer and pointed down in the direction of the glow and there on the bottom, sticking up out of the sand was an old, rotting metal chest. Inside the chest a crown was partially visible. Silver in the shape of vines.
"Whoa..." Leira looked closer as bubbles emerged from the chest. "Air bubbles from the bottom up."
"We got this video before it hit social media but we're not entirely confident there weren't copies made. We need to remove that artifact first and get it safely locked away."
"When do we get our Cousteau on and head for the bottom?"
"They're getting set up now. Only three of us can go down there. You, myself and Agent Grundy. Agent Watkins will remain on the ship, controlling aspects of the retrieval, along with Mark and Gail."
"Did they come along to just look pretty?"
"General Anderson is worried about this artifact. I think they're our backups if something happens to us." Alan smirked as he gave a shrug. "We're all expendable moving parts in one big machine. Even you and me."
"Then let's get this going. My first underwater sea adventure. I can check this off the bucket list and move on to other things."
"Like what? I can't imagine what's left for you to try."
"Like skiing. I've never been skiing."
Alan laughed. "So things of the more normal variety."
"They're sorely lacking from my life skills. I can tuck a few in, in between dark magic and hot artifacts that come with submarine rides."
"Maybe take up ballroom dancing or learn how to sing karaoke."
"Oh, I already get after the karaoke. I know how to sing some Bon Jovi."
"That I would love to see. After you. They're setting up on the starboard side."
"Look at you using the fancy lingo. You learned that on the flight here, didn't you?" Leira followed him around the ship to where the submarine hung in its metal harness.
"There's a chance I studied up on a few technical terms so I wouldn't look completely lost in front of the rest of the crew."
"You really were a Boy Scout, weren't you? Go on, admit it. I called this one right."
A Navy Lieutenant met them by the submarine. "Good morning sir, good morning ma'am. Get in any bathroom breaks you may need for the next few hours because there will not be any more chances for peeing by yourself till you are back off the vehicle. No? Everyone good? Excellent. Then let's get you loaded and get this bad boy underway. You are to follow the instructions of Agent Grundy at all times. He is specifically trained to run the submarine and, in an emergency situation, will know exactly what to do. No second guessing him, no winging it. You will be more than two miles beneath us, so there's no room for hot-shotting it. Are we in agreement on all that I've said to you? Great, let's get this show on the road."
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Leira sat in a chair bolted to the floor with a clear view of the round window and the sea life floating by as they slowly descended to the ocean floor, the pressure in the cabin remaining stable and the same as the surface. Leira leaned forward in her chair, careful not to interfere with Agent Grundy or to touch anything on the panel in front of her as she gazed in wonder at the school of haddock swimming by, the distinctive black stripe down their back with the black thumbprint just above their fin.
Agent Grundy leaned over the microphone. "Descending to 0.289659." A scratchy, "Confirmed" came over the speakers. "Continue."
They were sitting in tight quarters, Alan Cohen right behind Leira, looking out a smaller porthole, his side facing her back. Agent Grundy was just inches to Leira's left, ignoring her as he worked to maneuver the submarine to the ship wreckage.
A squid swam by, its eight tentacles pushing back and forth in perfect rhythm. The squid swam above the submarine and out of view, just as quickly reappearing, closer to Leira's window, attaching itself to the pressurized glass.
"Not to be concerned," said Agent Grundy. "He'll leave as soon as we descend a little further and when he figures out there's nothing to eat here."
The squid rode with them a little further, finally letting go, shooting a cloud of black ink in its wake, obscuring the view from the window.
"That'll clear in a minute," said Grundy, in the same detached voice.
"Fun guy," whispered Alan.
"I think fun is not allowed in his job description."
"Not if you want this to go smoothly." Grundy looked over at them. "Small quarters. Can hear every last word. Not afraid of your powers either, Agent Berens. Don't like having untrained civilians on my vessel, even if you do work for the same company as I do."
Leira gave him a crooked smile. "Now that I can respect. Can they hear every word we're saying on the ship?"
"Only if I press this button." Grundy
leaned forward and pressed the button, saying into the microphone, "Descending to 1.72617." The response came quickly. "Confirmed."
The high pitched, rumbling sound of a blue whale could be heard through the walls of the submarine. Leira's eyes widened as she listened to the long, low call. Grundy glanced over at her. "That whale is probably miles from here. They're the loudest animal on Earth at 188 decibels, louder than a jet plane."
"I'm liking you more and more, Grundy." A school of rabbit fish swam by followed by a Greenland shark who was gaining on them.
"I get that a lot. You have to warm up to me."
"Don't you mean that the other way around.” Alan looked out the portal, listening to the sound of the whale as they descended further and the light faded in the water to inky darkness.
"No, I don't."
Leira smiled and looked out the front portal. The lights on the mini-submarine illuminated a few feet ahead of them as they came in view of the hulk of the Titanic.
"Son of a..." Leira's voice came out in a hush and she leaned forward trying to get a better view. Her eyes glowed and the symbols lit up on her arms involuntarily as she let the energy easily flow through her.
Grundy kept looking over at Leira, watching the symbols change as he pressed the button and said, "We are at destination."
"Confirmed."
"We're going to blow air out over the site where we believe the artifact to be to see if we can stimulate it again." Grundy pushed different buttons on the panel, shifting the submarine as it turned, making a wide half-circle. "Ready to begin," he said into the microphone.
"Confirmed."
Leira looked out the window as the sand was stirred up, blocking the view of the lights, the sand glittering as it swirled in front of them.
Through the middle of the sandstorm a purple glow emerged, widening out in rays.
"We have contact," said Grundy, letting go of the button.
"Now what?"
"Now we retrieve it and head back to the surface. Pretty mundane stuff as far as being on the ocean floor is concerned. Most interesting part is that it glows."
