by K. M. Shea
I hurried down the sidewalk, setting my course for the Oakdale train station. I wasn’t terribly worried about running into Frey. He said he didn’t have to go to the MBRC on Thursdays. Technically, I should be safe.
All the same, I glanced up and down the platform after buying my ticket to Chicago, feeling like a spy on a dangerous mission.
The train ride to Union Station was uneventful, but finding the MBRC was a little more difficult than I expected. I went in the wrong door first (I pushed open an employees-only door and got a face full of pipes), and when I finally found the right entrance, the trail seemed to last much longer than I remembered.
After fifteen minutes of walking, I finally stumbled upon Tiny. “Hello, Morgan. Why are you here without Frey?” he asked.
“I promised the cyclopes I would come to their meeting with ophthalmological research today,” I explained, shifting my backpack.
Tiny’s bushy eyebrows rose. “So you’re the one organizing the cyclops union?”
“What?” I blankly asked, briefly recalling my visions of world domination with the business-minded cyclopes surrounding me.
“It’s been the talk of the MBRC. The cyclopes have been organized under some figurehead who is an elf in underground glamourizing and owns a unicorn herd in China,” Tiny reported.
I stared at the giant before laughing. “Oh man, rumors can get so blown out of proportion,” I giggled while Tiny uncomfortably shifted.
“Well,” Tiny started. “If you really are here on request of the cyclopes, it’s a good thing I lowered the Confounding Charm for you.”
“The confounding charm?” I asked with interest.
“It’s a low-level glamour spread in the hallway. It puzzles and confuses regular humans who try to come this way. I could feel you wandering around in it, so I lowered it for you. You’re supposed to have a magical escort you know,” Tiny said, shaking a finger that was the length of a football in my direction. “But I’ll let it slide. Just this once. Here, I’ll open the door for you,” Tiny winked.
“Thanks, Tiny,” I smiled as Tiny worked on some cranks and the image of metal doors faded.
“No problem,” he said, pushing open the door for me. “My mom’s cousin’s daughter married a cyclops. They’re good folk; they deserve the help. Good luck!” Tiny wished before the doors swung shut behind me.
I walked down the dark hallway, feeling a little apprehensive before I popped up in the central chamber. I skirted around a pair of yetis, squeezed between groups of wood elves, and headed for the information desk.
My intent was to talk to Corona, but instead I ran into Nick—the first cyclops I had aided.
“Morgan! Great, I found you. Come on, the other cyclopes asked me to get you for the meeting. We were horrified when we realized we had no way of contacting you,” Nick said, grabbing my arm before leading me through the swarming masses.
“You got here right on time,” Nick said as we ran underneath the belly of an Ice dragon from Antarctica. “The director of ophthalmological research decided to start the meeting a little early.”
“What? That’s unprofessional,” I complained.
“Not really. One of the MBRC board members and an administrative assistant to the MBRC Administrator are sitting in on the meeting. Starting it early was the only way the board member could attend,” Nick said, pausing to straighten his Armani suit outside the glass doors of the ophthalmological office.
“The MBRC Administrator?” I asked.
“He runs the center. The board makes the rules and laws. It’s up to the administrator to keep the organization running smoothly.”
I self-consciously smoothed my hair. In an attempt to look more professional, I had worn khaki pants, a camisole, and a white sweater. Now I almost wished I had worn a skirt of some kind.
“Here we go,” Nick said before pushing open the door for me.
Sandra, the female cyclops with the periwinkle-colored eye, was waiting for us.
“Hey, Sandy,” I smiled. “You look great!”
“Thank you, Morgan, but we need to hurry. Come on, let’s go,” she urged.
The three of us hustled up a hallway before abruptly stopping by an oak door, which Nick smoothly opened.
The ophthalmological director—the sorceress I had mistakenly thought to be a secretary at our previous meeting—was seated at a table with four other people. One was the cyclops who had previously worn a Ralph Lauren suit. His name was—get this—Ralph. Sitting to the director’s right was a scientist in a white lab coat; I guess he was a wizard in training—even though he didn’t have a beard like Dr. Creamintin, he had that magical aura to him. At the head of the table was an elf—the board member probably. (He was disappointing. He was handsome in a very subtle, snobby way, but he certainly wasn’t a Lord of the Rings elf.) Between the elf and the director was a beautiful girl who was holding a glass of water.
“Careful,” Nick muttered in my ear. “She’s a selkie.”
At the time, I had no idea what a selkie was, so I didn’t know what to be careful of. Selkies are Irish/Icelandic/Scottish mythological characters. They are essentially seal people. They have two forms, a seal form which they use to play and live in the ocean, and a human form. To take on their human form, they have to shed their skin. (Yeah, it sounds gross.) If they want to return to their seal form, they just put the pelt back on. Lore talks about how, after turning human and then returning to the sea, selkies can’t become human again for seven years. This is a bunch of hooey storytellers made up in order to make legends more tragic.
Anyway, selkies, males especially, are rather…gifted in the arts of seduction, or in our case persuasion.
“Board trustee Elros Gloriath, administrative assistant Bryna Kerrigan, allow me to introduce you to Nickolas Vontreba and Sandra Koplin. The human, Morgan Fae, is their negotiator,” the ophthalmological director said.
Bryna, the selkie, smiled sweetly and dipped her head at us. The elf merely blinked, casting jealousy through my system when I noticed how long and perfect his eyelashes were. (Okay, so maybe he wasn’t completely substandard.)
“Um, hello,” I greeted, taking a seat between Nick and Sandy.
“Trustee Gloriath, assistant Kerrigan, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Nick said in a perfectly polite, business tone.
“Right, so let’s cut to the chase. The cyclopes are willing to invest in eye research if we work with them to develop contact lenses or glasses,” the eye director said, shuffling papers before looking up. “They have indicated they are willing to donate a seven-figure sum,” she finished.
I could practically see the dollar signs in her eyes. Her wizard-y assistant almost drooled.
“How difficult would it be to create glasses or contacts? Which one would take more time?” Bryna asked, picking up a pencil with her free hand, to take notes. (She still held her glass of water.)
The director tapped her fingers on the table surface for a moment. “Technically, the eyeglasses would be the most simple to create, but in terms of mass production, the contacts would be the easiest route. In contacts, the only thing to change would be the prescription. With glasses, each set would have to be customized to fit their owner. Additionally, a glamour would have to be applied in order for the cyclopes to wear them in public.”
“We already have some rough sketches for cyclops spectacles and contacts. The ophthalmological research department has been approached with this request before,” the side-kick eye doctor chimed in, placing a manila folder on the table before removing sketches from it and passing them out.
“And why was the project abandoned?” Elros asked, his forehead wrinkling as he studied the sketches.
“It was deemed to be of low importance,” the assistant said, uncomfortably shifting in his chair before glancing at the cyclopes and me. “Although the project itself is relatively simple and would be easy to complete.”
“We are a busy department, even if you ignore the freak outbreak
s like the dryads’ eye fungus,” the director admitted, “not to mention we’re low on funding the way it is.”
Elros dropped a sketch of contact lenses and looked bored. Bryna looked up from her note-taking and smiled before exchanging glances with Elros.
“The lack of funds is significant,” Elros admitted, staring down at the drawing before looking at Nick and the other cyclopes. “How is this proposition?” he started. “You donate the seven-figure sum to the ophthalmological research branch for the purpose of general research. The research department will devote time and research to your problem when they deem it fit.”
I didn’t wait for the cyclopes to respond. “Absolutely not,” I declared without a moment of hesitation. I could feel Nick and Sandy freezing up on either side of me. I wasn’t sure if it was because that stupid elf had the GALL to suggest the cyclopes fork over cash with no guarantee of help, or if it was because they were having a panic attack since I disagreed with a board member. Whatever that was.
The eye doctor and her assistant were staring at Bryna and Elros as if they had lost their heads, which made me suspect this was the elf and selkie’s private idea.
“Excuse me?” Elros asked, one of his eyebrows forming a perfect, elliptical and irritated arch. “And why do you feel your opinion matters, Miss Fae?”
“It’s not a matter of opinion,” I said, leaning forward. “It’s a matter of being remotely intelligent. You’re telling them to hawk up over a million dollars with no guarantee of being aided.”
“The MBRC is significantly behind its budget, Morgan,” Bryna said in a silky, sunny voice. “We need help to meet our expenditures. You can help us,” she earnestly said.
Her pretty voice might have distracted me if I were not so enraged. “If you guys are over one million behind in EYE RESEARCH, you need to hire a new accountant and make a smaller budget,” I flatly replied.
“Morgan,” Sandy hesitated. “Maybe we should take the deal—.”
“No way,” I said, shaking my head as I turned to face her. “You don’t see them shaking down leprechauns for their gold or selling fairy dust on the black market. The bottom line is they want your money, but they don’t feel like helping you.”
“We never said that,” Elros insisted, his musical voice growing tight.
“You said the research people will devote time to the issue when they deem it fit! Mrs. Director just finished talking about how busy they are—they’ll never deem it fit,” I said.
Sandy looked worried and cast her periwinkle eye around the table, but Nick took a stand.
“Morgan is right. We fund the MBRC through donations. We do not have to contribute this money to eye research, and we certainly aren’t going to if we don’t receive a guarantee that we will be helped,” he firmly said, taking the lead.
I nodded smartly in agreement.
Bryna and Elros exchanged glances again. “We don’t want to upset you,” Bryna sweetly started.
“No, you just want to take our money,” Ralph chuckled. It wasn’t a light chuckle, it was dark, like Bryna and Elros were silly children spouting outlandish ideas.
“We aren’t opposed to aiding the cyclopes. As I mentioned before, the project would be relatively simple. Perhaps a little time-consuming, but certainly not challenging,” the director said.
“Friends,” Bryna smiled, although her eyes didn’t glitter so prettily anymore, and she set her glass of water down. “Let’s try to discuss this.”
In the end, I didn’t say much more. Nick and Ralph did all the talking, and Mrs. Director practically shut out Elros and Bryna when it became apparent that she was in danger of losing her much-needed funding.
The cyclopes agreed to donate $500,000 immediately. $250,000 of that would be devoted to research for cyclops contacts; the rest would be a sign of “goodwill” on the cyclopes behalf, which would be used for any funding the ophthalmological research department needed. (Apparently that eye fungus from the dryads was really sucking up the funds, and a lot of the infected dryads lived like hippies and didn’t have money to donate.)
When the contacts went through for testing, the cyclopes would gift the department an additional $250,000 for researching glasses. Once the prototypes for glasses were finished and in circulation, the cyclopes would donate a minimum of $500,000 in appreciation.
I had a feeling the numbers might grow larger as the cyclopes grew more thankful, but I didn’t say this.
When the meeting was over, Elros gave me a dirty look, as though I were an overgrown cockroach or something. Bryna, however, seemed to lose her overly sweet edge and smiled at me.
“It was great to meet you, Morgan. The lightwood fairies have been gossiping about you like mad,” Bryna grinned.
“About what?” I asked as we left the conference room.
“About you and the Pooka, of course. He’s a member of the Fairy Council,” Bryna said as we left the cyclopes behind. (They were busy talking with the eye doctors.)
“If he’s a Fairy Council Member, why does he wander around like a hobo?”
Bryna giggled. “I’m sorry. Devin is something of a celebrity in our circle, and he hasn’t had a fling in the past two years that’s lasted longer than a few days.”
I pushed my eyebrows up my forehead. “Really? I don’t think I’ve known him for even two weeks yet,” I recalled.
“It helps that you’re one of the only humans to find out about us that hasn’t had their memory instantly altered,” Bryna confided.
“Well, the rumors will die down soon,” I said as we left the ophthalmological office complex. “I’m getting hypnotized tomorrow.”
“Really? Why?” Bryna asked, her eyes widening. “I would have thought with all the work you’ve been doing, you wouldn’t want to leave. You were really passionate back there,” Bryna said, gesturing to the office.
I shrugged. “You’re right. I can’t say I want to forget everything. Even though initially the whole magic and fairies thing really freaked me out and I hated it, and even though sometimes Frey and Dave drive me up the wall, I really do find this place interesting. But I don’t have much of a choice. Frey told me I had to be hypnotized or have my memories removed.”
“I’m sorry,” Bryna said as we entered the main chamber of the MBRC.
I waved her off. “There’s nothing either of us can do about it. It was great meeting you, Bryna. Good luck with the future.”
“Thank you,” Bryna smiled. “Hopefully we’ll be able to get contacts for the cyclopes made and an antifungal for that eye fungus. Goodbye, Morgan.”
“Bye!” I waved before moving through the MBRC main chamber.
It was here that I unwittingly set off a string of events that greatly morphed my future.
I did not see Frey, which was my main worry of the day. I was so concerned about running into him—even though it was his day off—I didn’t notice that I caught anyone’s attention, or that I caused any problems.
I didn’t notice that I scared the poop out of a minotaur who had never before seen a human, so he stopped abruptly when he saw me. This caused a centaur behind him to run into him.
The centaur was traveling with a very large sphinx, who also stopped to make sure his friend was okay. Now, the sphinx was very tall, and his stop was sudden, so a flying gargoyle collided with his head and fell down, landing on top of a siren.
The siren—gifted with her beautiful voice—screamed bloody murder and made pretty much everyone in the room stop whatever they were doing and cover their ears.
I had made it to the exit/entrance hallway by this point, so all I did was wince and skip away.
The entire mess captured the attention of two High Elf brothers, Aysel and Asahi.
“That’s the little human that’s causing the stir in the lower ranks,” Aysel stated, watching me disappear from sight.
“She looked happy,” Asahi, ever the sweetie, noted.
Aysel did not react. “I heard she’s getting hypnotized tomorro
w. Good riddance.”
“Really? I think having a human tutor would be fun,” Asahi said, glancing at the hallway I had disappeared into.
“Mmm,” Aysel said.
That short little interchange would change my life forever.
8
My Memories to Be Modified
Friday morning came all too quickly. I woke up early and stared at the ceiling of my room, considering writing notes about the MBRC so I could read them at a later date and remember…but my heart ached with thoughts of Frey, so in the end, I decided I was better off forgetting.
I got up and dragged myself to school like normal. Fran picked up on my morose mood, but we didn’t have much time to talk. In fact, the day proceeded like any other Friday until I reached Spanish class.
“And so, after you finish this word search, complete page 23 through 25 in your workbook. I will be out, briefly, making copies of your homework for tomorrow. Miss Morgan, would you come with me to lend me your aid with the copy machine? Thank you,” Dave said, exiting the room before I could refuse.
I slid out of my seat, glancing at my fellow classmates. Depending on their grades and social standing, they either started working on their homework or turned in their seats to chat with friends. No one reacted as though anything were out of the ordinary.
No one except Frey, that is.
As I walked towards the door, he practically branded my back with his green eyes. The way his silver hair fell down over his forehead, shadowing his face, made him look wolfish. (Well…more like a starved wolf. That boy is beyond skinny.)
I shivered and exited the Spanish classroom. Dave closed the door behind us and walked across the hall to lean on a locker. He slowly slid to the ground, looking funny in his rumpled suit as he sat on the floor. He patted the spot next to him in an open invitation.
“I thought we were going to make copies?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest.
“I deceived you,” Dave cheerfully said, shooting me a smile that had no business being on the face of a vampire. “Sit,” he ordered, patting the ground again.
