by Amy Hopkins
Leaning forward, Tarathriel pressed his forehead against Boots' tiny face.
Unnerved by Boots’ immediate affinity to the elf, Penny wasn't sure what to say in response. Thankfully, she was saved.
"Red!" Amelia's outraged hiss was followed by a yelp from her boyfriend as she pinched the soft flesh of his stomach. "This is a refined gathering of individuals, not the all-you-can-eat smorgasbord at the local Chinese restaurant."
Red scowled. "You know I don't eat Chinese anymore. That bastard cat won't even let me through the door." He gestured helplessly with hands that clutched at least a dozen tiny pastries. He seemed oblivious to the waiter behind him, scowling over an empty tray.
Heaving a sigh, Red offered the pastries to his friends and their companion. Cisco shook his head with a grimace, and Penny politely refused the slightly squashed hors d'oeuvres.
Tarathriel eyed them. "It seems they have a type of hog meat in them." He shrugged apologetically. "I do not eat animal flesh."
Red muttered something about “vegans” under his breath, then crammed them into his mouth.
Raising her eyes to the ceiling, Amelia gave a frustrated huff. "You didn't offer me any! I'm starving!"
"Sorry!" Red stretched to his full height and ran his eyes over the room, finally spotting another waiter in a far corner. "Look, there's a man over there serving tiny quiches. I'll go get you a dozen."
He disappeared before Amelia could protest.
"Tell your friend not to worry," Tarathriel said softly to Penny. "I have been to quite a number of these gatherings. Those who attend rarely adhere to social conventions."
"We'll fit right in then," Penny murmured. She glanced back at Boots, who had settled quite comfortably into Tarathriel's arms.
"Here comes Crenel—I mean, Dad." Cisco gestured at the agent who was walking toward them purposefully.
"I shall leave you be." Tarathriel unwound Boots from his arms and passed her back to Penny. "I imagine you have important things to discuss with the law enforcement officer pretending to be your father. Farewell!"
Penny groaned while Cisco stared after the elf in awe. "How could he possibly know that?"
"Because you’re all terrible liars," Amelia told them flatly. "Let's just hope he keeps his mouth shut."
"Look, kids!" Crenel held up a glossy brochure, a forced grin plastered on his face. "I booked a trip!"
"You can drop the charade," Penny said in a low voice. "We've already been outed by the pointy-eared vegan."
Crenel shook his head in despair. "I knew I should have left you back at the hotel. Where's Red?"
"I'm right behind you, Agent Crenel." Red brandished the handful of food he’d plucked off the tray. "Quiche?"
Crenel eyed the food, shrugged, and plucked one from Red’s hand. “They’re awfully small, aren’t they? Fancy party like this, the least they could do is make man-sized portions.”
“That’s what I told them!” Red exclaimed. He waved his hands as he spoke, scattering crumbs everywhere.
“Settle down, dear,” Amelia said. “You’re making a mess.”
Red looked down and picked some crumbs off his shirt. “Are we done yet? I’d kill for a pizza. A real one, not a teeny little mouse-sized slice topped with rubbish like cashew cheese and caviar.”
“Let’s make a move.” Crenel nodded to the door. “Before one of you creates a scene.”
Lightning flashed inside the room as a clap of thunder rang out. Penny clutched her ears, blinking rapidly to clear the bright spots left by the bright light. Around them, people screamed and shoved each other, trying to evacuate the room. “Too late,” she yelled at Crenel.
Crenel slumped momentarily. “Just once,” he groaned. “Just once, I thought things could go smoothly.”
Chapter Four
Penny eyed the man in the middle of the room. His white beard swung back and forth as he turned his head, brushing against his long red robe.
“Santa?” Red asked timidly.
It wouldn’t be the first variation of the myth that had appeared this side of the veil, but Penny had a feeling this man wasn’t Kris Kringle.
“I am Väinämöinen!” The man lifted one hand, holding a wooden oar. “It is time. I have returned!” He glowered at the blank stares surrounding him.
Tarathriel whispered in Penny’s ear, making her jump. “Really, who buys a magical artifact without knowing who the previous owner was?”
“That’s the guy who owned the dental harp?” Penny asked in a low voice.
“Kantele,” Tarathriel corrected her. “But yes. He lost it eons ago. Made a replacement, I believe, one a bit less…primitive.”
“Has he come to get it back?” Penny searched her memory but was certain this wasn’t a myth she had come across in her studies. “Look, Legolas, if you’re gonna help out here, I need more information.”
Väinämöinen swung toward them. “You!” He jabbed the oar at Tarathriel. “You spoke my name. Have these people forgotten their history?”
Tarathriel stood and cleared his throat. “Mighty wizard, I’m afraid these are not, in fact, the people you served. Those men and women are oceans away and gone for millennia.”
Väinämöinen’s expression darkened. “Then who is the thief who stole my instrument from its rightful owners?”
“Stole it?” a man in a back corner blustered. “I paid half a mil for that damn ukulele.”
“Oh, no.” Penny shrank back as Väinämöinen seemed to grow taller. A low hum filled the room, undulating like a Gregorian chant. Clouds billowed near the ceiling and threw deep shadows over the room. The hair on Penny’s arms stood on end.
“Väinämöinen is a Finnish god, or perhaps just a hero, depending on who you ask.” Tarathriel spoke fast, his voice tight with worry. “He has fought gods and monsters, and has unspeakable power.”
“Friend or foe?” Cisco snapped. “Can we reason with him?”
Tarathriel shook his head. “I cannot say with certainty. He once served humans, but his legend ceased with the advent of Christianity. It is said he sailed off into the sunset, promising to come back when he was needed. That does not look like a face open to discussion, though.”
Väinämöinen’s lips parted as his song reached a crescendo. Electric bolts flickered inside the clouds.
“He’s singing,” Penny said, grabbing Tarathriel’s arm. “And he has a magic instrument. Is it music-based magic?”
Tarathriel nodded. “His voice is well known for its god-like quality.”
Grinning. Penny snatched out her phone. “Red, Cisco?”
“If you’ve cooked up some kind of hair-brained, dangerous scheme,” Red said, “count me in. Anything is better than this boring party.”
“I need one of those speakers.” Penny pointed at an expensive sound system in one corner of the room. It was off, but Penny recognized the model. Saved by the Bluetooth. “Turn it on and press the button that’ll connect it to my phone.”
Red and Cisco nodded in unison. They darted across the room as Väinämöinen lifted his arms, his song increasing in tempo.
The kantele lurched out of the hands of the musician and into the air. She snatched at it even as she squealed in terror, but the instrument was already out of her reach. It floated toward the wizard and he snatched it, strumming a discordant note.
The animals rose on their back legs, baring fangs and teeth as they eyed the partygoers.
“Not on my watch,” Tarathriel muttered. His eyes glowed green, and he whispered a chant under his breath.
A giant rat skittered into the crowd. Women—and several men—screamed and scattered. A press of bodies flooded to the metal door, crowding against it. A sliver of light shone as it cracked open, only to disappear with a clang as Väinämöinen threw an arm toward it with a high-pitched note.
Penny’s breath caught as Red dove behind the sound system. The LED lights of the speaker blinked.
Amelia screamed, “Rat!”
Penny looked down and r
eflexively kicked at the scruffy, snarling rodent headed toward them. Before her foot connected, Tarathriel scooped it up, stroking its head and soothing its frantic rage. As he whispered in its ear, the rat’s fur smoothed and the crusted dirt fell away, leaving it clean and happy as it nuzzled the inside of the elf’s elbow.
“Defend us, brave soul. Bite his toes and scratch his eyes.” Tarathriel set the rat on the floor and it scurried away, quickly lost beneath the long skirts and trampling feet of the frantic people fleeing the wizard’s wrath.
Tarathriel gasped. “Oh, dear.” He turned to Penny with tortured eyes. “Our fine warrior has failed, thwarted by the violent heel of a fleeing stiletto.”
Penny winced. “Ouch. Poor guy.”
New Device Available
The notification that popped up on Penny’s screen brought a rush of relief. “Let’s see if you can out-sing this, you hairy bastard.” She selected the speaker, set the volume to max, and pressed play.
The dulcet tones of Freddy Mercury cut Väinämöinen’s song short as the first line of Don’t Stop Me Now split the air. Above the speaker, the storm clouds retreated.
Väinämöinen gaped, then gave a long, loud, musical yell. The speaker exploded.
“There goes that plan,” Penny yelled over the operatic wailing.
Her idea, however, hadn’t entirely failed. From the other side of the room, Penny could hear snatches of the song.
“Is that…is Red singing?” Amelia asked.
The song’s chorus erupted, a little off-key and not quite in time, but loudly enough that Penny could clearly pick out Cisco’s voice alongside Red’s. With a smirk, Penny sucked in a breath. On the next line, she joined them. She sang as loud as she could, throwing herself into it while she played air guitar.
When a rich baritone added to the mix, Penny almost fell over. Agent Crenel gave her a sly wink as he continued, while Amelia implored the people nearby to add their voices.
It was working. The cloud roiled, parted, roiled again. The flashes of light had ceased, and the animals enlisted into Väinämöinen’s strange army sat on their haunches, blinking in confusion as the wizard’s magic failed to penetrate the rock song.
Väinämöinen gave a yell of frustration. With one loud, melodious call, he vanished in a flash of bright light, leaving behind nothing but a wisp of smoke.
The impromptu rock rendition fell away and silence filled the room.
It broke when someone hooted with exuberant joy, “How great was that?” Cheers of approval went up as people began to congratulate the host for throwing such an exciting party.
Tarathriel gave a long-suffering sigh. “I did warn you. These events rarely follow the usual social conventions.”
“Are they… Was all of that…” Shaking her head, Amelia gave up trying to make sense of the situation. When a waitress passed with a tray of champagne, she scooped up two glasses and held one out to Penny, downing hers in a single gulp. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right?”
“Wrong.” Crenel raised an arm and gestured for Cisco and Red to follow them. “We’re leaving. Now. I don’t want to be here when Gandalf reappears.”
“Why, Agent Crenel,” Penny said as she hooked her arm through his. “Did I just hear you make a pertinent pop culture reference?”
Crenel scowled and plucked the glass from her free hand. “No drinking on the job.” Despite his words, he gulped down the stolen drink. “Now, take pity on an old man. I just want to make it back to the hotel without any more trouble, okay?”
Chapter Five
Amelia slapped a textbook down on the tiny hotel coffee table. "Trust Crenel to take this fake dad thing way too far."
"Tell me about it," Penny grumbled. "I mean, I get that you’re missing out on a holiday and all, but I haven't been home for a year, and now that I am? I'm stuck in this crappy hotel."
Amelia winced as she looked around the opulent hotel room. She glanced pointedly at the thick carpet, the expensive sheets, and the gigantic flatscreen TV hanging on the wall. "It's not that crappy," she said. "And although I hate to admit it, he does have a point. Dean March isn't going to give us a free pass on any of our exams." She flipped the textbook open, rifling through pages until she found the spot she wanted. She pressed her left index finger on a line of text, then looked at Penny beseechingly.
Penny threw her hands up in defeat and stomped over to her suitcase. She pulled out a rainbow pencil case and a matching notebook and tossed them to Amelia, who caught them one-handed. "You're lucky I brought the stationery shop with us," Penny told her.
Amelia flashed a winning grin. "Lucky and incredibly grateful.”
Penny dragged out a thick notebook of her own and set to reading notes for the upcoming exams. The semester would end in two short weeks, and their flights weren't booked for three. Thankfully— or not, Penny thought with a silent snort—Dean March had organized for the relevant exams to be available online. Agent Crenel would supervise the students as they completed them to ensure the Academy's high standards were kept throughout the unorthodox process.
Optimal salt to water ratio for aerosol application is one part salt to sixteen parts water, Penny read. She paused and screwed up her face, trying to remember if the figures she had jotted down were by weight or volume. Unable to remember, she wrote a note in the margins to double-check later. She read on, reciting the facts and statistics in a silent whisper, doing her best to commit them to memory.
Ding!
Penny bit down on her momentary frustration and glanced at her phone. She quickly read Cisco's message before it went back to sleep.
The old man just left. Wanna sneak out?
She tapped a quick reply.
Studying. Hey, do you remember if the one:sixteen saltwater aerosol ratio is by weight or volume?
Oh my God, Penny. When did you get old and boring?
Penny scowled at his response but grinned when a second message quickly followed it.
It's by weight. I know this because I made a deck of flashcards. Do you want me to duck over so we can practice together?
Colour me impressed, Penny wrote back. Sure.
In the end, Penny went to Cisco. They quizzed each other ruthlessly, not stopping until Penny groaned and flopped onto the plush carpet. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m so bored.”
“Let’s spice it up,” Cisco suggested. “Drinking game. You get a question wrong, you down a shot.”
“Let’s do it.” Penny rolled to her feet and went over to raid the minibar.
Cisco stopped her. “There’s no way we can afford to get drunk on hotel booze. Check my suitcase—there’s a farewell gift from Paddy tucked in the side.”
Penny did as she was asked, digging through the rumpled stack of clothing in Cisco’s bag to find the whiskey. She found it wrapped in a pair of jeans.
“First of all, who taught you to pack like that?” she asked. “And second, jeans? It’s a thousand degrees out there. You’ll melt if you wear those.”
Cisco shrugged. “I’ll be fine. Mom and Dad used to travel a ton. Never to Australia, but to places that get just as hot.”
“You’re a practiced traveler, and you still pack like a five-year-old running away from home for the first time?” Penny asked with a chuckle. She found two shot glasses in the hotel cabinet and brought them over.
Cisco took the glasses and whiskey and poured two shots. “It’s a guy thing. Now, what are the three critical hit points on a vampire?”
It was two whole days until Agent Crenel let them out again.
"And what do you do if you see a Myther?" he asked Penny for the third time.
Rolling her eyes, she answered. "Report it, ignore it, or —"
"There is no 'or!’" Crenel snapped. "If you're going to be a smartass, you can all stay home."
"We're tourists, remember? All I was going to say is that we can ignore it, report it, or snap a cute picture of it like any other tourist would do." Penny plucked her roo
m key out of Crenel's hand. He had been holding it hostage but seemed to have forgotten that as his frustration with her flippancy rose.
He threw his hands up in defeat. "You know what? Get yourself killed. I don't care! I'll only be sacrificing my career, my marriage, and—"
It was Penny's turn to cut the special agent off. "Come on—as if Dean March thinks you have any chance of reining us in." Penny patted him on the shoulder consolingly. "She knows we're a bunch of incorrigible young adults who think we know better, and that we all have a problem with authority and immortality complexes. She won't blame you in the slightest." Penny dropped the key into her purse, then zipped it closed and slung it over her shoulder.
Agent Crenel eyed her. "Sometimes I wonder if you've ever actually met my wife."
"I have. And I've met you. If she didn’t kill you over the Kraken incident, she’s not going to." Penny slipped on a pair of sandals at the door. "Make sure you hang the Do Not Disturb sign on the door when you leave. See you later, Boots."
Boots hissed angrily, clearly upset at the agent’s insistence that the Myther stay behind.
The door clicked shut behind her just before Crenel's muffled yell came. "I hate you, Penny Hingston. You know that, right?"
"I love you too, Agent Crenel!" she replied cheerily as she headed away from the room with a skip in her step.
"Do I need to be worried?" Cisco was waiting in the corridor with Red and Amelia beside him. “I never pegged you for someone who liked older men, but…”
"Can you believe he's still giving us a hard time about going out?" Penny groaned. "That whole thing with what's-his-name and his tooth-guitar wasn't even our fault!"
"If we were in a five hundred mile radius of any kind of trouble, it was our fault." Amelia shook her head. "You know how he thinks."
"I know if our asses are still hanging around when he comes out of that room, he's going to give us another lecture. Let's get out of here." Penny led the way to the hotel's elevators and pressed the button that would take them down. They crammed inside, Red squeezing himself into a corner to make room for the elderly couple already inside.
