Who Let the Dogma Out (The Elven Prophecy Book 1)

by Theophilus Monroe

  That was a big burden to carry, but it was not as big as the burden of worrying that my life was meaningless.

  I knew what Layla was feeling. Things weren’t lining up the way she’d been taught they should. She seemed certain that I was this chosen one, whatever that meant, but one simple act—B’iff’s refusal to pull the trigger and end my life—had unsettled her world.

  I also knew there wasn’t anything I could tell Layla that would help.

  Instead, I offered to listen. “I can see you’re upset. Would you like to talk about it?”

  Layla took a deep breath. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. I just don’t get it. B’iff saw you were alive. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he didn’t shoot you, but it just doesn’t make sense. He tracked us down. Then, as soon as he had a chance, he took off and left us in the dust. What if you’re right? What if I’ve been fooled my whole life? What if I’ve only seen a redacted version of the prophecy, one that left out important facts? If certain parts of the prophecy were hidden from us, I have to ask why. What are they hiding? Or at least, what is it they are refusing to believe?”

  “You could ask your father. I know you have some kind of device you can use to contact him.”

  “I do,” Layla said, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out a blue crystal. “If I channel a little magic into it, I can talk to my father. It’s as good as an iPhone.”

  I grinned. “But more powerful. I mean, I don’t think I have a signal where we’re at right now. Yours can speak across worlds.”

  Layla nodded. “It is remarkable, I suppose. But that’s the thing, I don’t want to ask my father about it.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  Layla tapped her fingers on the dashboard. “Elves can read.”

  “Yeah. I assumed as much.”

  “Why don’t they want us to see the scrolls? Why won’t they let us read them ourselves? They filter everything through the elven priest. They’ve always said the prophecies are difficult to read, hard to understand. That they are beyond most of us, and we need the priest to interpret them for us.”

  I pressed my lips together. “Because if people could read them themselves, they’d be able to question what the prophecies mean.”

  “The thing is,” Layla said, “the orcs have the prophecies. They have them in their language.”

  “Aren’t there elves who can speak the language the elven giants use?”

  “Of course there are. But if any of us secured a copy and translated it, it would be considered high treason.”

  “Punishable by death?” I asked.

  “Yeah, and now I’m wondering why. What are my people trying to hide? Anyone who has ever challenged the primacy of the high priest has been executed. For me to question, it would put my father in an impossible predicament.”

  “You guys are talking too much,” Agnus interjected.

  “Agnus, don’t be rude,” I snapped.

  “No, you don’t get it,” Agnus said. “You guys are focusing on what you don’t know. What do we know? The Blade is out there. Someone has it, and it isn’t the orc.”

  “The cat has a point,” Layla said. “I don’t think he sent the Blade through the postal service.”

  “It was just a guess,” I said, smiling. “I don’t think that’s the answer either. Who would he have mailed it to?”

  Meeeeeerrrrrrroow!

  “Yes, Agnus?” I asked.

  “Stop speculating! Isn’t it obvious what we need to do? You can still see the glow, right?”

  “I can.”

  “Is it still moving?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m fairly sure the light is getting brighter now as we get closer.”

  “Then pedal to the metal, Casp! Because whoever has the Blade has it near the Meramec Spring. By the time we get there—”

  “It will probably be fully charged,” Layla finished his thought.

  “Right,” Agnus said. “And that is probably why the orc was so eager to get there ahead of us.”

  Layla grinned as she looked at me.

  She didn’t need to say it. She was holding back an I-told-you-so, and she would have been right. Agnus had proven helpful twice now. First, by getting in B’iff’s face so Layla could take him out, even if that situation hadn’t panned out the way we’d hoped. Now, by helping us see what we needed to do next more clearly. Of course, not even Agnus knew who or what we’d encounter once we arrived at Meramec Springs, but he was right; we had to get there quickly, and B’iff already had a good head start. We wouldn’t get there ahead of him, even though the Eclipse was faster than the truck he was in. Hopefully, we could get there in time to stop him.

  “Layla,” I said. “If he does manage to charge the Blade, he can’t go back to New Albion until the full moon, right?”

  “That’s right,” Layla agreed.

  “Will he be more powerful if he has the Blade, fully imbued with Earth’s magic?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Elven giants can’t use magic?” I asked.

  “No, they can. But there’s nothing in the prophecy about that. I don’t know how stable or usable the magic is when it is contained in the Blade.”

  “All right,” I said. “Worst case scenario. What could he do with it?”

  Layla sighed. “The last time the Blade was used, it had enough power to charge our planet. The magic it transferred to New Albion was enough that magical wars have been fought, drawing upon it, for centuries.”

  I nodded. “So, if he does have access to that much magic, and if he can wield it—”

  “He’d be unstoppable,” Layla said. “And I fear that the orcs might have more in mind than using it to defeat the elves.”

  “What are you thinking?” I asked.

  “He might use it against humanity, too. It was, after all, humans who exiled both our peoples. I’m afraid he wants revenge.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Once we exited south from I-44 onto the state road that was supposed to lead us to Meramec Springs, the light, now front and center in my windshield, grew brighter and brighter. It was like driving into the setting sun. As we got closer to the spring, the light was so bright that I could barely see to drive.

  Layla placed her hand at the base of my skull. I’m not sure what she did, but the light disappeared.

  “Does that mean that the connection I have to the Blade of whatever is severed?”

  “The Blade of Echoes,” Layla corrected me. “Your soul was linked to it before. When you focused and meditated in the park, the exercise I had you perform brought it into focus. What I did just now was interrupt your focus.”

  “Well, I’ve never been great at multitasking.”

  “Only the most advanced elven sages can wield magic in more than one way at any given time. I don’t know that I’ve ever met anyone who could. Some of the ancients could. The chosen one is supposed—”

  “The chosen one?”

  “Sorry, I just got to talking. But yes, according to the prophecy, the chosen one will be able to engage not just one or two spells at once, but many.”

  “Well, there you go,” I said. “Proof I’m not the chosen one. If I could, your little disrupter spell wouldn’t have worked.”

  Layla took a deep breath. “That’s the thing. Nothing about the prophecy indicates that the chosen one will be able to handle multiple spells at once.”

  “Without the light, we’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.” I chuckled to myself at what I thought was a brilliant joke about smartphones being old-fashioned. “Do you still have the map up on your GPS?”

  Layla didn’t laugh. I guess she didn’t think my subtle attempt at humor was remotely funny. She looked at her phone. “Yes, the map shows we’re about three miles away.”

  “So,” I said as I flipped my turn signal to change lanes, “I thought you weren’t going to reveal more of the prophecy?”

  “I wasn’t, but in this case, it’s not something yo
u can make happen. I’ve been training with magic my entire life, and while I can wield some powerful spells, I’ve never been able to handle so much as the simplest spells two at a time.”

  “So, if I’m doing something magic-wise and I try to invoke a second spell, it won’t work?”

  “Generally speaking, for most of us, any time you focus your magic in one way, the focus will only last until you interact with magic again in some way.”

  “Unless I’m the chosen one?”

  “Even then, until the hour has come for that particular element of the prophecy to be fulfilled, I suspect the general rule will apply.”

  I nodded. “I’d say that makes sense. But I don’t know enough about all this magic stuff to know what is sensible and what isn’t.”

  “Speaking of what’s sensible, I think it would be best if you stay in the car.”

  I raised my left eyebrow. “Stay in the car? Are you serious?”

  “I can handle B’iff.”

  I shook my head. “Are you sure about that? From what I’ve seen, we’ve encountered him three times, and he’s bested you two times out of three.”

  Layla reached into her quiver, which she had between her legs on the floor in front of her. Since we didn’t know for sure if B’iff was in front of us or behind us, best to be prepared, I suppose.

  “It feels like I have at least a dozen arrows left. Should be plenty. In the alley, and again at the farmhouse, he took me by surprise. When we faced him on the interstate, we saw him coming. I was prepared. I’ll be prepared this time, too.”

  “Why arrows?” I asked. “I mean, you’ve shot him a couple of times now.”

  “Orcs are notoriously resilient. Their blood clots quickly. Their bones are difficult to break. Even an arrow directly to the chest won’t likely make it through his rib cage to his heart. The most I can hope for is to debilitate him by injuring a muscle, or maybe if the arrow hits a nerve. When I hit him in the shoulder, that’s what I was hoping for. Nerve damage doesn’t heal naturally. It usually requires magic.”

  “Well, what if he manages to charge the Blade?”

  “He’ll have more than enough magic to pretty much heal anything I can throw at him.”

  I nodded. “And you think you can handle the orc and get the Blade from him without any help? What if he charged it already?”

  “Arrow into the shoulder, like she said,” Agnus piped up. “Into the brachial plexus.”

  “The brachial what?” I asked, turning back toward my cat, who sat in the back seat looking as smug as ever.

  “The brachial plexus,” Agnus repeated. “It’s what they call the cluster of nerves in the shoulder.”

  “How do you even know that?” I asked. “And don’t say television.”

  “You have the Great Courses app on your Roku.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You seriously took a Great Courses class on human anatomy?”

  “So I could learn how I might smite you most effectively if you disobey. I’ve also binge-watched the class on western philosophy. I’m now an existentialist.”

  I snorted. “Whatever.”

  “Agnus is right,” Layla interjected. “A shot to the shoulder is what I’m planning.”

  “Then you need my help. Hit him in the shoulder. Considering the last time you didn’t hit the nerve, there’s no guarantee it will work. Besides, he’ll be expecting that.”

  “It’s the only way, minus another knee to the jaw.”

  I shook my head. “Let's presume you manage to hit the right nerve. Someone has to be ready to snatch up the Blade before he can heal himself or pick it up with his other hand.”

  Layla sighed. “You’re right. I’ll have to act quickly. But you’re too important...”

  I shrugged. “I’ve survived two encounters with B’iff so far.”

  “Barely,” Layla said.

  “You said it yourself. There must be a reason why he didn’t kill me when he had the chance.”

  “But until we know what that reason might be, we really can’t risk it.”

  “Layla, I’m not letting you do this on your own.”

  “You’re not a trained warrior, Caspar. I’ve trained for this my whole life.”

  I bit my lip. She was right. My fighting experience was limited to a few karate tournaments I was in when I was a kid in the eighties. Yeah, it was the era of Karate Kid. All the kids took lessons back then, but unlike in the films, I was in full pads and a helmet, complete with a face shield.

  And I learned the hard way that the crane kick doesn’t work for shit.

  Other than that, I’d play-wrestled Hulk Hogan-style with a few of my friends back in the day. But a real fight? Well, the closest I’d gotten to that was the other night in the alley, and that confrontation ended with me taking a blade to the gut.

  I’d say I’m a lover, not a fighter. Agnus has made the point that I’m not much of a lover, either.

  I’m a preacher, not a fighter. Saying that out loud, it just doesn’t sound as suave. There wasn’t much of a chance I could preach the orc into submission.

  “I can’t just sit here and do nothing,” I said. “I’m coming to help. At the very least, I’ll be a distraction. Someone else he has to keep an eye on while you aim for his shoulder.”

  “I suppose that makes sense,” Layla said. “But that’s it. You’re a distraction, nothing more. Do not engage! Do you understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, trying but failing to suppress my grin.

  She didn’t respond. I know Layla just wanted to keep me safe, but presuming all this stuff about New Albion and the elf world was true, her entire race depended on us succeeding. We couldn’t allow B’iff to take a recharged Blade of Echoes back to his world.

  I pulled into a small parking area around the spring. B’iff’s stolen truck was parked there, but there was no sign of the orc. There was a second truck so covered in rust it was impossible to tell what color it used to be. I presumed it belonged to the man in overalls fishing on the bank of the spring. Other than that, there wasn’t a soul in sight.

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “Where is he?”

  “He’s here.” Layla unbuckled her seat belt. “Probably hiding in the trees.”

  “You’d think a person his size would find that difficult.”

  “You’d be mistaken. B’iff is a highly-trained operative.”

  I reached for the door. Layla grabbed my hand.

  “Wait,” Layla said. She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

  Agnus choked up a furball in the back seat, or at least he made that sound.

  I turned my head toward hers. She lowered her lips to mine. She grabbed my wrists, then a tingle coursed through my entire body.

  She pulled away and plopped back into her seat.

  A seatbelt of glowing green magic held me in place. “What the…”

  “I’m sorry, Caspar. It’s for your own good.” Layla grabbed her bow and quiver, opened the door, and took off into the woods surrounding the spring.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Did you think she was going to kiss you?” Agnus asked, plopping himself into my lap.

  “Why not?” I asked. “You think she’s going to get into a relationship with you, a cat.”

  Agnus cocked his head. “You’d be surprised how many chicks are into pussy.”

  I almost gagged on my tongue. “Did you seriously have all these thoughts before? When I couldn’t understand you?”

  “I am what I am,” Agnus said. “The same yesterday, today, and tomorrow.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Those are both quotes from the Bible about God, Agnus.”

  “Exactly.”

  I chuckled a little. “You know, if she gets into trouble out there, we’re stuck here indefinitely. Until this spell wears off.”

  “I’m not sure magic comes with an expiration date, Casp.”

  I sighed. “I guess that’s true.”

  “You realize, she’s just as concerned ab
out saving her ass. You go out there, act stupid, and get killed—”

  “I know,” I snapped. “She’d die, too.”

  “Do you want out?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You can get me out of these bindings?”

  “You could get yourself out.”

  I shook my head. “If I knew how.”

  “Look, Casp. If you are what she says you are—don’t call me a believer, by the way—I don’t think there’s any spell she could cast that you couldn’t overcome.”

  “That’s the thing, Agnus. Even if I can wield magic, even if I’m the chosen one of some prophecy and eventually able to cast multiple spells at once, at the moment, I couldn’t so much as fart a magic spell, no matter how hard I tried.”

  “That’s a bad analogy. You can’t fart at will.”

  “Sometimes I can,” I said. “If I focus.”

  Agnus shook his head. “On second thought, you seem to stink at magic. So I guess the metaphor isn’t that far off.”

  “But maybe you have a point. If I focus, maybe I can.”

  “That’s what I’m saying, Casp. If you are this chosen one, you can break through this spell. You just have to figure out how.”

  I watched as the fisherman standing at the edge of the spring cast his line into the water. “Well, I suppose if anything crazy was happening out there, that guy would probably react in some way.”

  Agnus stared out the window. “If he catches something, he better not release. I’m going for it.”

  “You’re going to steal that guy’s fish?” I asked. “How are you going to get out of the car?”

  Agnus stepped on the switch on the driver’s side door. The passenger side window rolled down. “Like that. See, good thing you left the car running.”

  “Agnus, don’t leave me in here!”

  “Chill, Casp. Just doing a little recon. Stay put, not like you have much of a choice. I’ll be right back.”

  “Agnus, stop! You can’t leave me here.”