by Charley Case
“Is that possible? I thought magic was energy you could harness in different ways. That’s how Danica describes it.”
Finn finished his whiskey and set the glass at the back of the bar so Danny could see he’d finished it. He sucked in a breath, organizing his thoughts. “She’s right. Magic is energy. As a dwarf, I use the same energy an elf or Peabrain uses, I just use it differently, all the way back to the source.”
“What do you mean, ‘back to the source?’” Mila’s scientific training kicked in. She leaned toward him.
“Think of magic as electricity.”
Mila nodded, following the analogy.
“Okay, so you have a lamp that needs to be lit,” he continued. “When it lights upo that electricity could be from many processes; you could have a steam generator or a hydro-electric dam or a nuclear reactor. They all have the same end result, which is lighting the lamp, but how they get there is incompatible with one another. If you stick plutonium in a dam, it does nothing but irradiate the water, like if you pour water on the fire heating the steam engine, which would just put it out.”
Mila considered, then nodded. “Okay, I follow, but you can always measure electricity—or magic. Why can't you see what I’m doing is magical or not?”
“Well, this is where the analogy breaks down. It works because most magicals use the same magical energy. Like everyone uses electricity across the globe, you have to remember there are more kinds than electricity. There’s gravity, which uses potential and kinetic energy. There’s even zero-point energy out in the universe; we can't measure it, but that’s a whole other bag of kittens. All magic is energy, but not all energy is the same. A few beings we know of don't use the same magic as everyone else, but they’re rare and seldom associate with anyone but their own.”
Mila took a drink, thinking it over. “What beings?”
“What?” Finn froze with his beer halfway to his lips.
“What types don't use the same source?”
Finn set his beer down without drinking and cleared his throat. “Some elder dragons figured out how to tap into other sources.” He raised the beer again and said, “Also angels and demons.” He began drinking, not looking at her.
Mila goggled at him. “I’m sorry, angels? Demons? Those are real?”
Finn finished his beer. Issues with religion seemed to get Peabrains in a tizzy. “Those are the best words for them. They’re not the same as all the religious connotations, just two races that evolved with a different understanding of magical forces in the universe. No need to worry, none of them were on Earth when it started its journey.”
“If none were here, why are there so many myths?” She rolled her hand and shrugged. “I mean, I get that the original passengers knew about them, but why all the myths if they were just another race?”
Penny snickered, drawing a cocked eyebrow from Mila. “Squee, chi chi!”
Finn agreed with her. “Yeah, they aren’t ‘just another race.’ They’re more powerful than that. Plus, in the past, they fought a war that makes the Dwarven-Troll War look like playtime, and that’s been going on for a few thousand years.”
“You’re telling me these angels and demons are so badass that Peabrains remembered them even after they forgot about magic?”
Finn nodded. “Pretty much.” He saw the worry in her eyes and took her hand in his. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with you. You’re a mystery. We’ll figure it out given time.”
She smiled. “You’re right. Nothing to worry about.”
Finn decided on a subject change. “How do you feel about your combat training? I know it’s only been a few days, but you seem to be taking to it.”
She brightened and squeezed his hand before letting go to grab her drink. “I suppose it helps that my teacher’s pretty good.” She winked and took a sip.
“I agree. Not about the teacher part so much, but that you’re doing well. Remember, it takes years to train your body to react without thought. Don't go charging in simply because you learned the proper technique to throw a solid punch.”
Mila rolled her eyes. “Don't worry. I’ll let you take the first hit every time. Maybe we should get me a gun. You know, so I can be of some use.”
As Finn chuckled, an idea came to him. He folded and filed it for later.
Chapter Seven
“How are we gonna deal with the Anthem being at the bottom of a lake?” Mila mumbled. She kept fuzzy-eyed contact with Finn as she took another sip of her third G&T. She held up a finger to forestall his answer. “A lake, I might add, my good sir, that is froshen over by now. Oh! And has a town and houses surrounding it.”
Finn chuckled at her flushed cheeks and slurred words. He could tell she was well into buzzed and knocking on drunk’s door. From his months with Mila, Finn was accustomed to her levels of drunkenness. She didn't do it often, and never without someone to monitor her, but she let loose occasionally. Mostly her imbibing was confined to their fluffy couch. Stage one, she loosened her shoulders and yammered more than usual. She called it her “social stage.”
In the second stage, she got affectionate with everyone around. Nothing inappropriate, but she would hug her friends with zeal and found a reason to slap Danica or Finn on the ass and yell “good game!” or some other clichéd “attaboy” phrase.
Stage three shifted from stage two; it went from affectionate to assertive, which took the form of whipping her socks off, plopping her feet in Finn's lap, and demanding foot rubs. In a social setting, she ducked under Finn’s or Danica's arm and put it around her shoulders. Any stage beyond the third was more abstract the drunker she got until Finn carried her to bed before she made a real fool of herself.
Right now, he judged her at early stage two, although that would move along to foot rubs by the time they got home. Truth be told, he didn't mind stage three.
Finn sucked his teeth and gave her a manic grin. “Well, having the ship at the bottom of a lake is a problem. Either she put the ship in the lake because it was a convenient place to hide a small asteroid, or she did it to combat me.”
Mila pulled her legs up onto the stool and got into a kneeling position. She was short, so sitting on her legs only boosted her enough to be as tall as an average person. She often sat like that when the bar was crowded, so she could see past the people around her.
“How does it bein’ in a lake combat you?” Her eyes went wide. “You ‘fraid of water or somethin’?”
Finn laughed. “No, nothing like that.”
“Shir shee!” Penny piped up from her empty bowl. Finn had ordered her a whiskey when they got their second round, and she was halfway through the drink, but a high level of snark was the only sign the brown liquid affected her.
Mila snorted a laugh. “You are afraid of water!” She held out her fist to Penny who bumped it before lifting the bucket-sized glass to her lips and taking a gulp.
“I don't like it, but I’m not afraid of it,” he protested. “I have a healthy respect for large bodies of water is all. That’s not the point. The Dark Star wouldn't know about that anyway, but she knows I’m a dwarf. Dwarves use earth magic. There’s not much earth in a lake, at least not close enough for me to do anything with it.”
“So, ya think she did it on purpose? What a bitch.” Mila sneered as she finished her drink.
“I’m sure we established that when she started sending assassins and mercenaries after us.” Finn grinned at Mila's over-the-top indignation. “But to answer the question, I was thinking of asking Kevin if any of his selkies could come along. Their otter forms should have no problem with the cold water, plus they could slip past any observation without too much trouble.”
Mila bent at the waist, folded her hands in her lap, and rested her chin on the bridge his forearm made from his elbow to the bar top. She looked up at him with big brown eyes for a second. “That’s a great idea,” she said, her head bobbing up and down since her chin was resting on his arm.
The move was so weird
that Finn didn't know what to do. She put her weight into the lean on his arm, so he didn't want to move it, although it was an odd thing for her to do. He stared down at her, his face a mask of confused amusement.
Mila laughed, sat up, and tilted her empty glass to get an ice cube. She started crunching it.
“Are you drunker than I think you are?” Finn asked, not sure what to make of her goofiness.
“I’m great.” She waggled her eyebrows at him. “How you doin’?”
“Uh, I’m good.”
She whipped her phone out and began to compose a text, flashing him over-the-top looks like she was doing something she didn't want him to see.
Finn peered at Penny, who had an eye ridge raised as far as it would go. She shrugged.
Mila dropped her phone on the bar like it was a mic and she’d just won a rap battle. “Boom. Text sent.”
“Text to who?” Finn was lost. “Are you having a stroke? Do you smell burnt toast?”
Her face split into a wide grin. “No. I’m just having fun. Come on, man, loosen up. Don't you ever want to do whatever sometimes? Just act like an idiot because it freaks your friends out?”
Finn shook his head. “I’ve never had friends before…well, besides Penny. But we are always working. You’re the first friend I’ve ever had.”
Mila sobered. Her face fell into a pout, and her eyes misted over. She stared at him, her bottom lip working as she tried not to cry. She stared so long Finn became uncomfortable.
“Uh, I mean, it’s fine. Back at the palace when I was growing up, I spent a lot of time with the weapons master. Being a berserker made it hard to keep people around, at least until I was old enough to get a handle on it. The weapons master was a good guy, but—”
Mila threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. “Holy shit, Finn. The only person you considered a friend growing up was the guy who taught you how to kill people? What parents do that to their son?”
Finn put his arm around her, patting her back to comfort her. He could feel wetness where her tears were soaking into his beard.
“As a berserker, I was useful as a weapon, but that was about it.” He grimaced at old memories that surfaced unbidden. “That was one reason I left. Among many.”
Mila’s phone buzzed on the bar top.
Finn felt her kiss his neck before pulling away. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, then gave him a wet stare. “Well, you have a friend now. Hell, you have quite a few friends.” She held up the phone and showed him there was a text from Kevin. “Including the ones you’re gathering along the way.”
She opened the phone and scanned the text, summing it up for Finn. “He says he has some selkies who would be perfect for the job. He’ll send them over in the morning so we can talk to them.” She clicked the phone asleep and dropped it again.
“That’s good news.” It surprised Finn how easy it was to get Kevin to help. “I figured I would have to convince him. He’s protective of his people.”
She nodded. “True, but he knows the value in experience, it would seem.” She yawned, then fell forward onto his arm. She slipped her arms around his and gave his bicep a tight hug. “Let’s go home. I’m ready to change into pajamas and lie around on the couch. We can watch a movie with the Duke.”
Finn smiled at the top of her head, giving her shoulder an affectionate pat before holding up a finger to get the bartender’s attention. “We’ll close out, Danny.”
“Shee squee.” Penny climbed out of the empty bowl and shook off peanut dust.
“Squee chi shrik?”
It surprised Finn that Penny would want to work on the wards tonight since she didn't like the cold that much. Not to say she couldn't combat it with her internal fire, she just didn't care for it. “I figured you’d wait until morning when the sun’s out.”
She shook her head. “Chi chi, shir.”
“I agree they need to be bolstered, but the chances of someone coming along who can get past what you have up now are slim.”
Penny patted Mila's arm, smiling at the half-sleeping woman. “Chi.”
Finn gazed at Mila, who had her eyes closed. She was clinging to him. “You’re right. Better safe than sorry. I’ll have some hot coffee waiting.”
Penny gave him a narrow gaze and shook her head. “Shir shee.”
Finn laughed. “Okay, hot cocoa.”
Chapter Eight
Finn awakened when he heard a knock on the front door. Like most soldiers, he was trained to ignore normal sounds and only hear the others. The sounds of Mila practicing in the dojo hadn't even made him twitch, but he bolted upright at the soft knocking sound.
He rubbed his eyes as he listened to Mila’s bare feet pad across the condo. Then she opened the door, which was followed by cheerful greetings between her and two others.
Finn sighed and searched through the pile of clean laundry on the foot of his bed for jeans and a t-shirt. He struggled into them, then rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he glanced at the clock—7:24 AM.
“How the hell are you up? And practicing?” Finn mumbled at the door. He hadn't even been close to drunk, and he was struggling. Mila had drunk a beer after they'd come home and passed out on the couch as Finn rubbed her feet, then he’d carried her to her room and tucked her in before going to bed himself. It irked him she could get up as early as she did, let alone after being hammered the night before.
He shuffled across the carpet and took a deep breath, enjoying the dark and quiet of his room before pulling his door open.
As he stepped into the dojo’s open area, the bright light of the sun accosted him, beaming from the ceiling windows that ran around the balcony. Finn grunted. His vision adjusted, and he stretched his neck. He enjoyed sleeping in a bed again, instead of the couch, like he’d been doing since he had arrived.
“Finn? You want some coffee?” Mila called from the kitchen.
Finn cleared his throat before he could get any volume, sleep still hanging on. “Yeah, coffee would be great.”
He strode across the blue mats, his bare feet making a swishing sound as he went, and came into the living room. Mila stood behind the island, dropping a handful of Charleston Chews into a mug before pouring seaming black liquid from a French press into it. Finn smiled. She knew what he liked.
She was dressed in tights and a sports bra, and he discerned a light sheen of sweat on her shoulders. Two figures he didn’t recognize sat at the island; he figured they must be the selkies. They turned at his approach, and it surprised him to see that they were almost identical to one another, one a boy, the other a girl. They didn't look like they could be a day over twenty. Both had short brown hair; the boy’s was cut in a similar fashion to Finn’s—long on top and buzzed at the sides. The girl had the same cut, although more feminine.
They gave him matching smiles and waves, then got up and approached, the boy holding out his hand. “Hello, Mr. Dragonbender. I’m Ronan, and this is my sister, Regan. We’re excited to help you.”
Finn shook both their hands. “Call me Finn. ‘Mr. Dragonbender’ is far too much of a mouthful. Nice to meet you both.” He gave them an appraising going over. “How old are you two, if you don't mind me asking?”
“Eighteen,” Regan said and flashed a bright smile. “Don't worry, we grow up fast. Me and Ronan have been working for the family for a few years now.”
Mila came over, handing Finn his cup of coffee. “Doing what?”
Finn took the cup and inhaled, smelling roasted nuttiness with a hint of chocolate and nougat.
The twins glanced at one another. Ronan took the lead. “Many things…” he started vaguely, “Mostly running errands, although lately we’ve been doing a little…uh, let's call it ‘finding things that have fallen off of trucks.’”
Mila narrowed her eyes. “Stealing?”
Both twins waved their hands in front of them and shook their heads. “No, nothing like that,” Regan protested.
“More like making d
eals with people who find stuff,” Ronan added. “We don't have the luxury of asking where it came from. It’s expensive to take care of a whole clan and live in the city. We do what we can to get by.”
“I get it.” Finn said and had another sip. “I’ve been there. Me and Penny once had to make a deal for a stolen fuel rod to get off-planet before we were chopped up and served in soup. The Sisters of Gorlat do not mess around.” He gave everyone a knowing glance, but they all had no idea what he was talking about. He sighed. “So, do you two know how to handle yourselves in a fight…if it comes down to it?”
They nodded and Regan answered, “Kevin makes it a point for us to know some martial arts and know which end of a pistol is which, and we hunt every year. Cheapest way to fill a freezer with good meat. So, yeah, I think we both know how to handle ourselves.”
Finn nodded and jerked his thumb at the dojo. “Show me what you’ve got.”
“Sir?” Ronan’s brow crinkled. “You want us to spar with each other?”
Finn chuckled. “I want you to spar with me.” He drained the coffee cup, handed it to Mila, and motioned for them to follow.
The twins glanced at one another again, then shrugged. “Okay,” they said in unison.
Finn wiped perspiration from his forehead and tossed the towel onto a weapons rack. “Not bad. You two are more advanced than I thought.”
The twins were lying on the mat, sucking deep breaths and drenched in sweat. Ronan gave a weak thumbs-up without looking his way.
Finn chuckled and grabbed a couple of waters from their stocked mini-fridge. He walked over, handed the bottles and a fresh towel to each selkie, and sat cross-legged on the mat nearby.
The twins both slowly sat up and twisted off the caps to chug half the water down.
Finn gazed at them. “This mission could go one of two way. Either it will be a walk in the park and you’ll be in no danger whatsoever, or we could start a war and have to fight our way out. Are you two good with that?”
