by J. B. Garner
While no one had bothered to allow him to change into clean clothes or take a shower from the looks of things, his dressing was now gone and fresh, smooth flesh replaced the festering puncture that had been there. The shackles were still there, though, but Blythe must have given them some command to allow Aelfread to speak so freely without pain.
That crushing sense of loneliness had to be magic and I would bet my premium position at the Easy-E-Mart that we had zero privacy. I had to choose my approach very carefully. “I had to see you again, Aelfread. I couldn’t leave you like this, could I? Not after promising you what I did.”
He sat up with some effort as I walked towards the cot. The rest of the room was accommodated in the same fashion as the jails I was familiar with, just with a slightly higher level of quality. “That speaks of the why yet little of the how.” His eyes focused on the notebook I clutched. “You did not – “
Damn, I needed some way to get things across to him that the wizard ears or whatnot wouldn’t notice. For now, innuendo and non-verbal ticks would have to do. “What other choice did I have, did we have? How else could we be together again, sweet prince?” Fortunately, the folding cot was low to the ground, letting me reach up to run a hand along Aelfie’s cheek without having to get a stepladder. “With what we have shared, I would give up almost anything for you.”
I didn’t need my weird Figment senses to feel the tingle, the heat welling up inside me or the faint shiver in Aelfie’s body. Score one for the connection, however tenuous, we had. It certainly made the lies spewing out of my mouth a good bit less false.
One of his delicate eyebrows arched a hair but even as tired and frail as he looked, Aelfread was a slick customer. While I knew his response to my touch wasn’t an act, he caught the rest of what I selling. “Maybe you are right, dear Dwarf. They say that even the greatest players in the Game must know when they have been bested.” He chewed at his lower lip as he held out a hand in a gentlemanly fashion, intent on helping me up on the cot. “And yet what price would Master Sinclair wish to rip out for the crimes I have committed against him? Surely he would ask for more than your help with runes to set me free.”
I took his hand and was not surprised when his best tug did absolutely nothing. Squeezing his hand, I took it upon myself to pull myself up, settling beside him. “Honestly, I don’t see why you feared his motivations. Master Sinclair does seem to be most generous.” I caught his gaze and smiled. “Indeed, his motives are as pure as my love for my beard.”
Okay, I was making peace with my glorious facial hair slowly but Aelfie didn’t know that. I could see by the slow nod and steady gaze that the message had been properly received.
Still, he had an act to put on. Shivering in disgust, Aelfread peeled his gaze away from mine. “I doubt that, not a deceiving snake like him. An entire species that trucks in deception and illusion simply cannot be trusted, not with a treasure as precious as what you have to offer.”
To keep up the story we were weaving for the jailor’s benefit, I laid the notebook to one side, moving the hand that had been in Aelfie’s to rest on his thigh. Well, more like lightly squeezing the inside of his upper thigh. Look, part of this might have been an act but I would have been a damn fool not to take advantage of the opportunity laid out before me.
Besides, from the little perk of a smile and coy sidelong glance, he was totally into it too.
“On this, we disagree, Aelfie.” He covered my hand with his own, well, as much as his thin fingers could my meathook as I smiled up at him. “Master Sinclair might be a Drake but he must be judged upon his actions. He deserves to get exactly what he has paid for, regardless of your initial intentions.”
Aelfread was doing a great job, as near as I could tell, at picking up on what was Bizarro speech and what was truth. “It was hard to do what I did, you must see. Giving up wealth and luxury for what I thought was a high principle.” He let out a deep sigh, laden with honest regret. “Yet if you, a lady of greater principle than I, whose heart beats in harmony with my own, tells me that I must turn opposite that course …”
I hoped I was picking up the right signals myself, in every meaning of that phrase. “I swore to you that you would be safe, didn’t I? And did I not also swear to help you every step of the way?”
Abruptly, I stood on the bed and grasped the Elf by both leather-clad shoulders and turned him towards me. Affecting my best passionate-lover affectation (not a huge stretch as I certainly wanted to do various wild, unmentionable things to Aelfie at that very moment), I gazed deep into those deep, golden eyes.
“Even if my instincts are wrong about Sinclair, our hearts, our safety, our passion are far more important things. You must think of that first. Join me, uncover the stone from the magics with which you’ve hidden it, and then we can be together.”
I meant more of that than I intended.
For his part, Aelfread responded with a look I hadn’t seen on his face before now. There was a certain happiness there, something different from the carefree swagger he had affected before, and maybe, just maybe, there was a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “And how could I stand against such passion, such fire, such purity of intention?”
I couldn’t help myself. “Of intention, yes, but of action?” With no warning, I pushed him down onto the cot, an easy feat, and followed him. A moment later, I was straddling his narrow chest, hands planted on either side of his head, once more curtaining our faces in scarlet curls. A wicked grin plastered itself on my lips as I gazed down at Aelfread.
There was a moment of hesitation as the thought ran through the Elf’s head, wondering if this was part of the game or part of the truth. It was only a half-second at most, though. “If I do not shudder as I ask you to do your worst, it is most certainly a compliment.”
I didn’t need any more invitation. Lowering myself down onto the ‘hapless’ prince, our lips met in a kiss that was far more intense than I could have possibly expected.
The one thing I was sure of at that moment was that that moment and that kiss had sure as hell not been an act.
21
IF ONLY THERE had been the time or the opportunity to do more but this was the very definition of the wrong place at the wrong time. At least we gave them quite the show with just that little taste of what could come. I couldn’t speak for Aelfie but my common sense overcame my libido as I pulled away from that perfect face and those perfect lips.
Of course, the spell might have broken by my proximity to a very unwashed Elf. While the all-leather aesthetic did score points in the hot-and-sexy category, it was highly impractical for being placed in solitary confinement. Still, to continue to defy expectations, sour Elf was a better scent than some I had experienced in my time, the odor of sweat backed by a cloying sweetness. It was well above animal dung, moldy straw, and dirty audience, that was for sure.
Maybe Aelfie noticed my wrinkling nose or maybe my beard was curling even more than usual. “Lake’s mists, I suppose it has gotten that bad, hasn’t it?”
I pushed myself off him and sat back on the cot. “Breathable fabrics, Aelfread. We’re long past the Nineties.” Tweaking my nose, I tried not to let the shiver of lust show too much. “All the same, we must focus on the task at hand, getting Sinclair back his stone.” To put the icing on the liar’s cake, I affected my best attempt at a seductive smirk. “You help me with this and we will have all the time to finish what we’ve started here.”
I must have looked silly or stupid, possibly both, but Aelfread knew by now the part he had to play. Pushing up on his elbows, he did an excellent job feigning disappointment. “Drag a scent before a hound for too long and you torture him, my dear, but I suppose there is nothing to be done for it.”
He almost sounded honestly hurt; damn he was a fine actor. I forced myself to be composed as I slid off the bed. “I will let Master Sinclair know that you are on board and insist he let you get cleaned up. Even if he doesn’t, I have a feeling we don’t have much time to
linger.”
That was the truth. Even with my planting the idea that he needed Aelfie’s help, I didn’t doubt for a moment that Sinclair was still hunting for the stone on his own. As the whole concealment spell thing was a flat-out lie, well, we needed every moment we could spare to get to it first.
Aelfie was on his feet and the slight sway with which he stood almost forced me to break character out of worry and anger. As I said, I’d experienced mistreatment at the hands of the authorities personally and to see that the Figment world was no different made me want to throttle Sinclair with my own two hands. Still, I managed to keep my head. It wouldn’t do Aelfread any good to lose my cool.
“Know that I will be ready, Lady Stone,” he assured me in a voice that wasn’t so reassuring.
Keeping my eyes locked on the door, I nodded. “I know, Aelfie.” Before I gave into emotion, I left through the fortunately unlocked door.
It didn’t surprise me in the least that Double Trouble had been joined by Sinclair himself. Sure, it hadn’t been long at all since I had gone to talk to the Elf but I figured the Drake didn’t want to be far from where things were going down. There was a thin, plastic smile plastered on his illusory face as he nodded to me.
“You are meeting my expectations thus far,” he rumbled. “The quest is still undone, however. I assume Prince Aelfson is willing to comply?”
“Well, I wouldn’t have come out here if I hadn’t gotten what I wanted,” I frowned. “Obviously, I would like to have Aelfread cleaned up and fresh before we leave.” Sinclair arched an eyebrow slightly but I cut off his question. “We aren’t supposed to be attracting attention, correct? A filthy, sweaty, and disheveled man being led around by a couple of obvious thugs” – I gave Blythe and Beaks a sidelong glance – “is going to attract plenty of that. No chains, either.”
Beaks scowled back at me ignorantly but Blythe cleared his throat, speaking in halting Truespeech. “If the collar is not shackled then can he not use the high magic for escaping?”
Sinclair glanced from the thugs to me as I retorted, “Which means he can’t do that same high magic to deactivate the spells he has on the stone. You know, the whole reason we had to get Aelfson’s help in the first place?”
Blythe joined Beaks’ scowling party but if he had a comeback, he kept it to himself.
“Very well.” The Drake nodded to his cronies and switched to English. “Take the Prince, ensure he is cleaned up and properly dressed, and bring the shackle and keys with you. He will need to be unbound during the search but lock him up the moment you have my stone.”
Neither of them seemed happy with the proposal but they followed their orders without question or backtalk. As the goons moved past us to grab Aelfread, Sinclair started back towards the elevator, seeming to ignore my presence.
I wasn’t quite done with him. “Master Sinclair!” I called after, having to trot to keep up with his long strides. “Aelfread is helping of his own free will. Surely you will give him his freedom in exchange for such a precious artifact.”
Sinclair didn’t look back at me, but he did slow his pace a smidge to let me keep up. Such a saint. “In time. Surely I cannot provide official leniency until such a precious cultural relic is reclaimed and back in my custody.”
It took real effort on my part not to show my hand and screw the whole thing up. Sinclair had his reasons for doing what he was doing and if I had guessed right, I agreed with a few of them but those reasons didn’t give him the right to be a corrupt asshole.
“Ah, I see,” I got out without gritting my teeth. “It makes perfect business sense, I would agree. You cannot dole out favors without a payment of coin or blood, right?”
“See? You are already learning how life in the Drachenreich works. You will do very well for yourself, Lady Stone. Very well indeed.”
Realistically, it wouldn’t take long for the goons to have Aelfie ready to go … well, as ready as he could be in this situation. I glanced anxiously over my shoulder at the door to my suite, my pen tapping at the blank page of my notebook. I had begged off from continuing up to Sinclair’s office to wait, saying that I needed to prepare for things myself, preparations that required privacy.
I let Sinclair decide for himself what that meant. My intent had been to riffle through that Dwarven forebrain or wherever these magical memories were stored and get some runewords down on paper, words that would blow the goons away and sweep us off into the night safely. It was a good plan on paper.
In reality, it sucked hard. You think cramming for high school exam is hard? Try wrapping your brain cells around an ancient form of magic that you just learned about a few hours ago and mastering it in thirty minutes or less. I felt like my brain was about to explode and take the entire building floor with it.
It didn’t help that I was running into inherent limitations to rune magic that I wouldn’t have expected from reality-bending power. In the fairy tales, the wizard bops his wand and he could turn a dove into a dragon or call a comet down from the heavens. Rune magic was a whole other ball of wax. There was no wand and no bippity-boppity-boo.
Instead, every word had to be exactly transcribed with an intent in mind, an intent that matched the word. I couldn’t just make stuff up, at least not with the knowledge I had. Each rune was laden with millennia of cultural connotation to it and that seemed to shape the magic itself. Rune magic was the power of tradition, a tradition I could barely remember let alone harness.
What I’m getting at is that the power locked inside me was rigid and inflexible. I couldn’t just scribble down a few broad-meaning words to cover my bases. That probably wouldn’t work and if it did, each word would wind up being weak from lack of clear intent. I’d have to think on the fly and practice my penmanship if the runes were going to help save our butts out there. As I mulled that over, my empty hand started to clench, wishing hard that I still had my baby sledge.
It’d certainly have made me feel more confident in what I was doing.
I hated this feeling. It was too close to helplessness in my book and I had spent far too much of my life feeling helpless in one way or the other, be it from the weight of prejudice, the ignorance of others, or the burdens of poverty. Whatever else you wanted to call this past day or so, it was a new life or at least a new lease on life. I didn’t want to start that with the same crushing problems that had plagued me for so many years now.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down. I would take control of this and not let go. While I might not be able to prepare how I wanted to, I could still get ready. In the end, this was like pulling one over on any other set of rubes.
The stakes were just a bit higher.
Yeah, that didn’t help as much as I wanted it too. Honestly, though, it was better to focus on the immediate problem than let my mind drift to other long-term problems, like what I would do with Aelfie if we both lived through this.
I coughed despite myself and shook my head. I didn’t have time for another shower. Instead of thinking about the Elf, I buckled down and bent over my notebook. Yes, practice those runes, Mary, and don’t think about practicing other things with Aelfie underneath me.
As I expected, it wasn’t long before there was a knock at the door. Snapping my notebook closed, I slid it into a messenger bag I had found rifling through the closet and went to open the door. Siofra’s radiant smile greeted me on the other side.
“Master Sinclair is sending for you, Mary,” she chirped, her hands clasped in front of her. “Congratulations are in order, correct?”
As I slung the bag over my shoulder, I gaped at her, almost blinded by the unvarnished enthusiasm. “I, well, maybe? What for, precisely?”
“The job, silly Dwarf! You would not be sent for so much had you not gotten it!”
Well, in Siofra’s eyes, that would be a good thing, wouldn’t it? “Oh, that!” I faked a smile for her benefit and any onlooking cameras. “Thank you. I did get it. In fact, I am headed out on my first official as
signment.”
She stepped to the side of the hall and swept a slender arm outward. “Then please do not let me bar your way.” She flashed me a smile and a coy wink. “You can share all the details with me when you return, yes?”
While I didn’t relish lying to the Elf, I didn’t have a choice. “Of course, Siofra.” My smile felt more genuine as I stepped out into the hall and continued, “Before I go, I wanted to thank you again for all your kindness and help. I couldn’t have done this without you.” I thrust out a hand for an honest shake.
Instead, as I should have expected, Siofra took hold of my hand and used it draw me forward as she knelt, giving me a warm hug. The scent of summer flowers filled my nose as I automatically returned the embrace and I couldn’t help but blush. Maybe I just had a thing for Elves but then again every Elf I had seen was so fantastically beautiful that I would classify them as sexual dynamite ready to explode.
Siofra cleared her throat as we untangled, rising back to her full height. “It has been my utmost pleasure to be of assistance, dear Dwarf.” She covered her mouth as she laughed musically. “Now please, you should hurry on before I give into the temptation to pry the details of this job of yours.”
That wasn’t all that Siofra wanted to pry into, that much was obvious to me. Pulling on a braid of my beard, I nodded uncomfortably. “Yes, of course.” I started down the hallway, giving the Elven woman a wave over my shoulder. “Take care, Siofra. I hope to be back soon.”
I hated to part with a final lie but it was what it was. While I wouldn’t mind seeing Siofra again, I didn’t want to be back here ever. No, the goal now was to get Aelfie and me as far away from here as possible.
From there, everything went as smoothly as you could imagine. I distracted myself from the dangerous acts laying ahead of us by wondering what the Figment world thought of cross-species relationships and how complicated having so many options must make things. Compared to my plans on how to ditch two thugs that had no compunctions about killing us and then getting out of the reach of a crooked magical bureaucrat, that kind of deep, societal contemplation was positively frivolous.
