Divine Knight

by Michelle L. Levigne

"Got caught between Angela and someone trying to yank her into a really mean painting."

  "Sounds painful."

  "It was." He exhaled sharply, trembling for a moment as the memory of all those sensations washed over him again. By the time they reached the shade of the gazebo in the town center, he had given her the general details. He didn't have to fill in any details on Ethan, because Lanie was completely up-to-date on that part of the story. She winced and hissed and shook her head in all the appropriate places. Once she reached out to squeeze his hand.

  "So what are you planning on doing? If you're here for the long haul, I mean." Lanie went in reverse, putting her back to the wall of the gazebo, next to the end of the bench that circled the inside of the shelter.

  "I'm here for the long haul, whether I get my magic back or not." He settled down next to her, and laughed a little when his legs ached. "I'm not used to going around under my own power," he explained, when Lanie gave him a questioning frown. "What I want to do is find a job, and marry Holly. Seems like that's the responsible, logical order. Not that I want to wait to marry her." He pulled the crystal box out of his pocket as he spoke, and handed it to Lanie.

  "Whoa. That is serious." She whistled as she opened the box and got a good look at the ring. "And really romantic." She grinned as she handed the ring back to him, and patted his arm. "I'm glad for you. But finding a job... Well, you might just have come to the right place."

  "What? Delivering papers?"

  "That's a kid's job. You can't make a living delivering papers two days a week. No, I'm thinking about all the paperwork, getting you a legal identity, proving you're not an illegal alien."

  "I am, if you think about it."

  "Yeah, well, the jury's still out on whether I'm from another planet, so that makes me an illegal alien, too." Lanie scooted around in her chair as if getting more comfortable. "I've got connections. Military connections, government. Mum and Pop have a friend who knows the right people. I'll ask him if he can help you."

  "You're serious?" Maurice rolled the crystal box around between his palms, feeling his pulse speed up and his breathing get fast and shallow as relief and anticipation rolled through him in competing waves.

  "Sure. But what do the other Fae who have moved to town do, when they settle on Earth? Do they just use their magic to conjure up fake I.D., and use their magic to alter the records and such?"

  "I don't know. The thing is, it's not really an issue, because they have magic to distract people who ask the wrong questions, and they can just pop out if things get sticky. Or just do the old, 'Those aren't the droids you're looking for,' routine. I could ask Lori and Glori and Alexi and the others, I supposed, but..." He shook his head. Suddenly, there was too much to think about. Things were easier when he had no idea if any of his goals were possible. "How much time can you give me right now?"

  "Why?"

  "I might need you to run interference for me." He got up and headed for the ramp down from the gazebo. Lanie followed him with a mental shove to get her wheelchair speeding along. "I didn't lose everything." He gestured at her wheelchair as she rolled along next to him without any deceleration. "I can feel when you use your power."

  "That's a good sign. You might get something back." She turned her chair at the intersection of paths through the town center. "Or maybe you don't want to get your magic back?"

  "Depends on what Holly says."

  "Uh huh. That's what I thought." From Lanie's grin, Maurice knew she approved.

  He expected to start getting scared, the closer they got to the library building, but all he felt was that glorious, hold-your-breath pressured feeling he got when the clock ticked closer to midnight on his day of partial freedom. Worth the price, he thought again, and nearly tripped on the uneven flagstones of the path leading up to the library.

  "Just don't do that going down the aisle," Lanie said, and detoured to the right, where the ramp to get up on the library porch was hidden behind some bushes.

  Maurice waited for her to catch up with him, and then held the door open. She gave him a regal nod of thanks, her expression somber. Then ruined it by sticking her tongue out at him as soon as he stepped through the door and caught up with her. He muffled his laughter and looked around the big main room of the converted old house. Since it was summer, story time ran all day, catering to different age groups. He had no idea where Holly was right this moment, and felt his first flicker of regret at the loss of his magic. It used to be, he knew exactly where she was, even from all the way on the other side of town.

  Maurice caught his breath as he felt the faint tickling awareness on his right. He turned and followed the sensation, through two archways, into the craft room. Holly sat in the window seat, reading aloud a story about a poetic mouse, while a gaggle of six-year-olds sat at half-height tables and made their own mice out of gray cotton balls and strings and pipe cleaners. He waited in the doorway, Lanie silent beside him, until Holly read the last word and closed her book.

  "Well?" she said, looking around at the children. "Do you think you could do what--" Holly stopped short, her gaze locking with his. For a moment she was utterly still, eyes wide, and Maurice's heart stuttered in panic. The same panic he felt whenever Holly came into the shop and didn't see him right away when he flew up to her--the terror that the Disciplinary Council's mercy had ended and he was again invisible and inaudible to her.

  Holly smiled and put the book aside on the window seat. Maurice hurried across the room, weaving between the little tables, before she could stand up and he lost his nerve. He fumbled the crystal box from his pocket as he nearly slid to a stop on one knee in front of her.

  "Maurice!" Holly squeaked, as he opened the box and held it out to her on his flattened palm. Her eyes got even wider and a bright blush washed over her, down into her collar. "Where did you find it?"

  "At Divine's, of course." His panic washed away at this sign she remembered that especially enchanting dream adventure they had shared. "I love you, Holly-berry. Marry me?"

  "You silly man," she whispered, tears in her eyes, which sparkled and crinkled up with laughter. "You've asked me a dozen times already."

  "Yeah, but those were dreams. This time it's real."

  "Well, I've got news for you. All those times were real for me."

  "Then--" He choked, feeling as if his heart would thud its way out his chest or up his throat. "Then the answer stays the same?"

  When she nodded, he whooped and scooped her up in his arms and spun her around, surrounded by the chatter and questions and cheers of the story time children.

  * * * *

  Ethan knew better than to keep the talisman with him. If the Von Helados were as powerful as he feared, they would find it no matter where he hid it in his office or apartment. He took his time driving back home from Neighborlee, thinking hard, discarding one option after another. His first impulse was to bury it, but the only park available to him wasn't particularly large. It wouldn't take much searching to find the spot that looked like it had been recently disturbed and dug up.

  He drove five hours away from Neighborlee and perpendicular to his straight route home, stopped at a post office, and mailed the talisman to his friend at the testing laboratory. He asked him to check if anything about the talisman had changed since the first round of tests, and to send the report to him by mail rather than email or by phone. Then five days later, send the talisman back to him. If the Von Helados wanted to go on a wild goose chase, trying to track down the package through the U.S. Postal Service, he wished them luck.

  Of course, what he meant was bad luck.

  The delay would help, even if those black-clad errand-runners did get hold of the talisman in the end. It would be a longer delay than if they had to go to the park and dig for it. Besides, he was pretty sure the local cops or park attendants wouldn't be very happy to have him digging there in the first place. He couldn't do it in broad daylight, and he knew better than to take that talisman out at night. Somethi
ng told him that while the moonlight might be friendly, it was the darkness that would work against him.

  Maybe later, when things calmed down and everything was settled, he would laugh at himself for suddenly believing down in his bones in the very things he had denied for so long. As it was, those colorful sparkles and whispers of laughter had returned to the edges of his awareness. If they didn't get too loud or active, he supposed he could put up with them.

  When the Von Helados appeared in his office, the afternoon after he got back from his trip to Neighborlee, two days after Maurice turned from an oversized dragonfly into a full-size man, Ethan was grateful for the company of those sparkles. Even if the dark cloud that he sensed surrounding the Von Helados manifested into reality and snuffed out the lights in his office, he was sure the sparkles would surround him with light.

  No more darkness, he vowed. No more fighting not to see and hear. No matter how illogical something was, he would embrace otherness. The only other choice was drying up until he was nothing but whispering sand, and insanity.

  "We are ready to go to Neighborlee to take custody of our dear Annabelle," Mrs. Von Helado announced. Her voice sounded rich with satisfaction, which just made the hairs stand up on Ethan's arms and the back of his neck.

  The nasty old bat thinks Angela's either damaged or trapped in that painting. She's gonna get a nasty surprise when she shows up in town, isn't she?

  "I would like the coin back. One last attempt at persuading Annabelle that we are her family, perhaps help trigger a return of her memories." She sat back in her chair and one of her silent flunkies stepped up next to her and held out a hand--in a black glove. Who wore black leather gloves in the daytime in the heat of the summer, anyways?

  Maybe they didn't want to touch the talisman with their bare flesh, either?

  "Yeah, the coin. Forgot all about it." Ethan made to pull his drawer open, then stopped. "Sorry. Completely forgot. I put it in my safety deposit box, for safekeeping. Can't be too careful about something like that."

  "Indeed not." A smirk caught up one corner of her mouth.

  "By the time we can get there, the bank'll be closed," he said, gesturing at the clock on the wall, which showed quarter of five. "If you want, we can meet there first thing in the morning and I'll go in and get it and hand it over."

  That seemed to suit the Von Helados, so they made arrangements for time and place. Ethan didn't like how pleasant and understanding they were. They had to know something had happened in Neighborlee, that the talisman had attacked someone. If they had felt the weakening of the defenses surrounding the town, as Angela theorized, letting them sense her presence, they should have known when the talisman tried to yank Maurice through the painting and broke whatever curse had kept him six inches tall, with wings.

  If Ethan had been alone, he might have stopped right there and banged his head on his desk for thinking such things.

  If he hadn't already made the choice to fully embrace the otherness that seemed determined to saturate his life.

  Maybe he really was insane, thinking as if the otherness was aware, able to think and choose and act on its own? And not only aware, but aware of him, in particular?

  Ethan promised himself he would discuss all his speculations and ideas with Angela, when everything had settled down again. If it ever would.

  Somehow, that made everything all right, inside his head and his gut. Choosing to accept the otherness gave him two more choices. Either ally with the Von Helados and their evident power and threat, or ally with Angela and Divine's Emporium and all the weirdness woven through the air and soil of Neighborlee.

  "No-brainer," Ethan whispered, after the Von Helados left. He watched from his office window as they got in their car and drove away.

  Just like before, he presented an outward appearance of normality, keeping to his usual routine. He waited until his regular office hours were over, neatened up for a prolonged absence, left messages with people who would look after his mail and answering machine and apartment, and went home to pack for another journey to Neighborlee. This time, Ethan suspected it wouldn't be a fast, in-and-out visit.

  Maybe he should consider moving to Neighborlee? Would Stanzer welcome a partner in the business? Ethan grinned at himself in the mirror over his dresser when he realized he didn't want to set up as a business rival.

  What had changed him so much, so drastically, in such a short time?

  He suspected the answer had long golden and strawberry-tinted hair and blue eyes, and guarded mysteries and wonders that could drive a man insane. And raspberry-colored lips that could very well do the same.

  At nightfall, he got in his car and headed out of town. The multi-colored sparkles settled around him, inside and outside his car, coating his shoulders, resting on his dashboard. Ethan didn't know why, but they were clearer, more distinct, as if his vision had changed and he had been unable to focus until now.

  "Okay, kids," he muttered as he left the city limits and the Interstate on-ramp lay before him. "If you could be on the lookout for trouble, let me know if the Von Helados get on my tail, I'd be much obliged."

  A whisper of something that sounded like laughter tickled his ears, and for the first time in what felt like decades, it didn't bother him. Maybe in a while, he'd grow to like it.

  Ethan turned on the radio as night settled around him. He didn't pay attention until the news came on at ten, announcing a break-in at his bank back home.

  "Couldn't wait for morning, could you?" he muttered, and reached for his cell phone. He hoped Stanzer was a night owl.

  The other investigator wasn't a night owl, but he didn't sound angry when he answered his phone on the fourth ring. He didn't ask any questions when Ethan explained the situation--the Von Helados' visit, the lie about the talisman, and the bank break-in. There was no telling what those people would do when they realized there was no talisman in the bank, and that Ethan didn't even have a safety deposit box. Would they use whatever powers they had to track the talisman down, or head straight to Neighborlee?

  Ethan hoped with all his might they would take the first choice. That they needed the talisman to do anything at all to Angela. And that his tactic had bought them enough time to prepare for battle.

  "I'll call Angela and warn her right now," Stanzer said. "How far are you from here?"

  "Three hours if I risk a ticket. Hey, do you see the sparkly things that float around Angela, and hear what sounds like kids laughing?"

  "Sometimes. Why?"

  "What are they called?"

  "Winkies. They're more a nuisance than anything, but Angela considers them friends. Why?"

  "They seem to like me. I hope that's a good sign."

  "For us, definitely." Stanzer sighed. "I have to confess, we weren't quite sure what to make of you. The readings Lanie got were sort of mixed. And especially after what happened with Maurice."

  "Is he okay? Angela wouldn't let me stay around and see how things turned out."

  "He's fine. Pretty happy about it, actually. When all this is cleared up with the Von Helados, I promise, you'll get the whole story."

  "Promise me something else?"

  "Depends."

  Ethan grinned into the highway darkness ahead of him. "Think about maybe taking on a business partner?"

  "Sounds interesting, to say the least."

  It sounded good to the winkies, if Ethan could judge the atmosphere in the car after he put down his cell phone. He could have sworn they were singing. What they were singing, he couldn't begin to guess.

  * * * *

  Angela looked out at the moonlight filling the park below her home like water filling a misty lake. She laughed at herself, keeping watch for Maurice to come home. Holly had called after she got off work to report that she and Maurice were going for a long picnic to celebrate their engagement--again--and to add more details to their plan for their future. Ordinarily, Angela wouldn't be worried about him. On his days free of his punishment, there were plen
ty of magical forces to keep watch over Maurice, and usually plenty of friends with gifts. Ordinarily, he was too busy concentrating on Holly to get into trouble. Things weren't ordinary anymore, however. Ordinary for Divine's Emporium, of course, not for the mundane world outside the borders of Neighborlee.

  Maurice had shown some magical sensitivity when he saw the ring that had been conjured by Holly's dream. He had seen the window into what Angela considered a "playground world." He did have all his magical awareness. But was it enough to help him avoid trouble?

  More important, did he have enough magical sensitivity to make him a target for danger? Usually the people in Neighborlee who ran into strange and unusual things were safe, because they didn't see, didn't hear, didn't feel the parallel dimensions and doorways to otherness that were only a breath away from them. Some strange law of magical physics Angela had never pursued or analyzed made them invisible to things that were invisible to them, untouchable by things they couldn't touch. Most of the time.

  The residents of the town who could sense and do and understand the amazing and unusual were the ones who ran into trouble, who became targets of good and evil forces from beyond Human understanding and experience.

  So just where did Maurice stand in that scale of comprehension and danger?

  "Guard him," she whispered to the winkies who churned around her in ever-thickening clouds.

  Perhaps a quarter of them streaked off to do her bidding. The majority stayed with her.

  That frightened her.

  The winkies weren't creatures of reason. They could be guided by force of will, by emotions, and their own instinct, their sense of good and evil, laughter and love and danger. So why did they stay by her?

  The ringing of her phone startled a gasp out of her. Angela turned and looked across the tiny living room of her quarters and glared at the phone. It didn't shut up. Sighing loudly, she crossed the room, half-hoping whoever was calling would give up. Probably tomorrow morning, a friend or customer would come in and scold her once again that they had only wanted to leave a message, not intrude on her personal time, and she needed to get an answering machine.