Mirror

by Noelle Ryan

  “Tolkein?” Damian asked. “I thought I knew all the scholars of magick, but this name is unfamiliar.”

  Tom laughed. “He was a novelist. Don’t worry about it.”

  Damian’s face scrunched in curiosity, and I could tell he was about to ask another question. I waved my hand at him in the hopes of reminding him I’d asked something first and, thankfully, it worked.

  “I haven’t seen one of the fair folk in centuries. I thought they had closed all the doors to Faerie long ago, but Cesar must have found his way through one. How he could have found a way to bind one to him I do not know—their magic is a wild and uncertain thing, not easily tamed, and I have never heard of our hypnotic powers working on a—what did you call it, Thomas?” Damian asked.

  “A Light Elf,” Tom repeated.

  “Ah, I see. Yes, I like that: descriptive and simple.” Damian smiled. “But as I was saying, the presence of a ‘Light Elf’ is the most logical explanation for what happened. Somehow, the elf must have pulled him into Faerie. In order to hide the trail, the elf would have had to dampen all magical residue in the area, which would explain why everything felt so oddly empty to you.”

  My brain refused to catch up with this new information. Elves? Faerie? Acts of magic? I’d assumed my clairsentience was something like a cellular mutation, something that gave me extra-sensory input that resembled magic only in the way that a dog’s extra range of hearing might have seemed magical to people thousands of years ago. Even discovering vampires were real hadn't caused me to believe in full out magic. But to hear someone say there were elves, and magic, and some kind of parallel realm to our world—well, it could sink only so far in before my mind simply decided to ignore it in favor of more immediate concerns.

  “So if Cesar has this…elf…working for him that can pull him into, uh, wherever, does that mean he could pop him back out here, in your house, to attack us at any time?” I asked.

  “Possibly, but doubtful,” Damian said. “I am not an expert in these matters—even when elves were more common in this world I didn’t have cause to know very many, especially not the Light Elves. They find the vampires taste for blood distasteful.” His mouth quirked wryly on the last word, and I wondered what private joke he was sharing with himself. “I have no idea how a vampire as young as Cesar could have encountered one, much less bound it.”

  “How are you so certain it’s a Light Elf, and that it’s bound?” Valerie asked. “Couldn’t he have found one of the Dark to work with him voluntarily? They feed off suffering, after all, and I don't think Cesar would mind creating plenty of suffering if it helped him achieve more power.”

  “Again, possible, but not likely. To keep a Dark Elf well fed enough to make it worth its while to work with Cesar, there would have been too much pain inflicted in that house for even a dampening spell to erase. Alyson would have felt something,” Damian said.

  Tom got up and began pacing around the room.

  “Are you sure,” he paused, looked at me, then looked away. I raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he was about to say. “Are you sure you should be basing your hypothesis on Aly’s skills? She’s pretty new to all this, after all.”

  I tried to catch Tom's gaze to let him know I was perfectly fine with his assessment—I was more inclined to agree with him than Damian on this one, anyway—but he wouldn't look my way again.

  “That’s a fair point,” I said. “I have no control over any of these abilities—they appear and disappear at random.”

  “I spent too much time with Dorothy to believe it random," Damian said. "You would have felt something; I am sure of it.”

  “So why wouldn’t a Light Elf work with Cesar voluntarily?” I asked.

  “They feed from tranquility and happiness,” Damian said. “They are potent empaths, such that being around suffering causes them to experience it as keenly as the one in pain. A Light Elf could only be with Cesar by force, and would be desperate to break the bond. Being surrounded by that kind of misery would literally kill it eventually.”

  “Then why would it go to the trouble of rescuing Cesar after you’d done it the favor of paralyzing him?” I asked.

  Valerie broke her silent observation of Damian, who was staring so intently at the floorboards I almost expected them to burst into flames.

  “We haven’t been able to figure that out,” she said.

  I was frustrated, and suddenly cranky, all of my dream-induced good mood having evaporated over the course of this conversation.

  “Do you all mind if I head back upstairs to get some work done?" I asked. "I’m not doing much good here.”

  Tom looked up at me, startled, but Valerie simply nodded.

  I only had a few more reading responses left. Then I just needed to check my email to make sure there weren’t any more student questions about my absences, and maybe put a bit of thought into that presentation I’d been avoiding. Usually, reading fifteen variations of “I don’t know what to say about this book because…” over and over was enough to make me scream, but I was actually finding a return to my routine kind of soothing. Granted, that relaxation could be a reaction to the fact that I was sitting in a giant tub with wonderful pulsing jets, but I wasn’t one to take a good thing for granted. Especially since it was the first time I’d felt normal in days.

  I didn’t even feel guilty anymore about walking out on the conversation that Damian, Valerie, and Tom were having about elf lore and binding rituals. It wasn’t like I’d had anything to contribute but kindergarten level questions, and, unlike them, I did still have a job to do that didn't revolve around blood or magic.

  I tossed the pile of finished responses far enough away from the tub to prevent them getting wet, and then I sunk down, closing my eyes and submerging myself completely. The jets beat against my back and neck, feeling indescribably wonderful. I rested underwater, taking a sudden and unexpected delight in the fact that I no longer had to breathe if I didn’t want to. It was strange not to hear any rushing in my ears or feel a tightening in my chest. For the first time in days, maybe even in months, I felt completely and fully relaxed.

  Eventually the urge to finish up my obligations took over, though, and I regretfully slid above the surface of the water, pushing my damp hair out of my face and wiping my eyes.

  “I haven’t felt peace like that in a long time. Thank you,” a voice said, and I whipped my head to the right to see a slender, androgynous looking woman with creamy skin and short strawberry blonde hair slumped somehow gracefully within the shower stall. Within a split second her face changed from tranquility to pain, and it curled into a ball. “Oh, please, stop. I’ve been around too much fear already.”

  Her reaction piqued my curiosity, and my fear died down. As it faded, the look of pain on her face eased, and she slowly uncurled.

  “Are you…a Light Elf?” I said, feeling ridiculous.

  She nodded. “My name is Marielle. I apologize for disturbing you. He only gives me brief periods of time to replenish myself, and yours was the most peaceful feeling I have detected in a long time, so I jumped here directly. Again, my apologies.”

  “He?”

  “You would know him as Cesar.”

  Damn. I guess it shouldn’t surprise me, since Damian said he hadn’t seen or heard of any Light Elves in so long. Still, even knowing she worked for Cesar, I couldn’t bring myself to fear her. Her fatigue and pain were so obvious that I couldn’t believe she posed any immediate threat to me. I sighed, and tried to focus on feeling peaceful again, hoping she’d be more likely to stay and answer my questions if she was getting the sustenance she needed. I leaned back against the tub wall to keep my body fully submerged—I wasn’t hugely modest, but still—and the jets certainly made it easier to relax.

  Her eyes widened. “You would still do that for me? You are an unusual vampire.”

  I grinned. “I’ve only been one for a few days.”

  She nodded as if that explained everything, and leaned back aga
inst the shower wall and closed her eyes.

  “Can you talk?” I asked. “I mean, while you’re…feeding, or whatever it is you’re doing.”

  “Mm-hmm, though I’m not sure I can be of much help to you. I cannot stop Cesar, and I cannot tell you how to defeat him.”

  “Can you tell me what the nature of his hold over you is?”

  She paused for so long I thought she might have fallen asleep sitting up.

  “It does not appear I can,” she said eventually. “Not directly, at least. But I may be able to answer some more specific questions. I am not certain. It’s hard to tell how strongly woven this contract is.”

  “If he has such a tight hold on you, why aren’t you trying to capture me for him?”

  She smiled. “That is not part of our agreement, fortunately. Of course, I imagine he did not suspect I could get so close to you so easily. But there is no reason for me to tell him that.” Her smile widened, and it was so breathtaking in its beauty and purity that I was dumbstruck for a few seconds. But my curiosity eventually won out over my awe, especially once her smile faded slightly.

  “Are you bound to him forever?” I asked

  She paused again. “Only for five years.”

  “Is there anything that can break your bond short of those five years?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  I waited, and then realized she wasn’t going to be elaborating on her answer.

  “What can do that?” I asked.

  “I’m afraid that is something I cannot discuss.”

  Hmm. What kinds of questions could I ask that might allow her to give me that information without breaking her agreement? Maybe I should call Damian or Valerie up here—they probably had a lot more experience with this kind of thing.

  “What would happen if I called another vampire up here to talk to you?”

  “I would have to disappear. He forbade me from all contact with vampires outside of his family. Since he considers you his, it provides me with a small loophole.”

  “I guess it’s good I didn’t yelp when you popped into the bathroom with me then, huh?”

  “I certainly appreciated it.” She grinned.

  “Can you give me any hints as to what kinds of questions I should be asking you?”

  “No, I’m sorry.” Her grin disappeared. “I only have a few more minutes before I must go back. Thank you for sharing your peace with me.”

  Ask her what she wants most in this world. Dorothy’s voice appeared and disappeared so quickly that I wasn’t even completely sure it had been her. I didn’t see what her question would reveal, but since I was fresh out of ideas I didn’t think it could hurt, either.

  “Um, I apologize if this seems personal, but…what is it you want more than anything?” I asked, hoping I was on the right track.

  “Oh, you are either very clever, or very lucky.” She paused, and then her eyes brightened. “Yes, I can answer that. What I want most in this world is a child.”

  Her voice faded, and her body with it, until I was once again alone in the steam filled bathroom.

  Fourteen

  “So why would her desire for a child allow Cesar’s bond over her?” I asked Damian and Valerie.

  Tom had zipped upstairs, presumably to make sure our visitor had really left, the moment I’d finished recapping my conversation with Marielle. I'd left out Dorothy’s surprise visit—they didn’t know about her, and I wanted Damian’s expectations of me to be higher like I wanted a new set of student papers to grade. I had been mulling over the end of my chat with Marielle as I dried off and got dressed, but I still couldn’t see a connection. I was hoping Valerie or Damian might.

  Damian was sloped forward on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and studying his hands. Valerie merely watched him expectantly, as if she was fully certain he had the answer and it was only a matter of patience. I wondered if she was usually that way with him, or if it was only because he had more experience with elves. When Damian’s head snapped up a moment later, eyes alight, a third possibility occurred to me: maybe a century together left you familiar enough with someone to just know when he was on the right track.

  “What if…” he began slowly, his measured pace and calm tone belied by the light in his eyes. “What if she entered into his bond willingly, in order to get something she wanted and only he could provide?”

  His gaze rested on me, apparently waiting for an answer. I felt like I was suddenly back in school and had just been handed a pop quiz.

  “She seemed miserable, exhausted, and in pain,” I replied. “Why would she willingly choose to feel that way? And why would a vampire be able to provide her with a child?”

  Suddenly Valerie’s gaze burned just as brightly as Damian’s, and she leaned forward, snagging his attention.

  “You don’t think…” she whispered.

  He nodded.

  “But I thought it was only an old myth!” she said.

  “Perhaps not,” he replied.

  Valerie leapt to her feet, grabbed her purse, and began digging through it.

  “We have to tell Temora,” she said.

  “Wait,” Damian said. “Think for a moment. We don’t know for sure. Do you really want Temora involved in this? Wouldn’t you want to have it for just a little while before turning it over to her?”

  Her hand tightened around the phone she'd pulled from her purse, and I decided to take advantage of the sudden silence.

  “Sorry to interrupt your little tête-à-tête here guys," I said, "but would anyone mind catching the supernatural illiterate up to speed here? I haven’t felt so out of the loop since my first department meeting."

  Damian and Valerie broke from staring at each other to look at me.

  “Elves have always had a hard time reproducing. An elf is lucky to carry just one child to term within their thousand year lifetime,” Damian said, slowly. I had the distinct feeling they'd both forgotten I was in the room. “There is an old legend, originally written in Sanskrit, though it may predate even that language, of a magically imbued horn made of Moonstone, known as Sringara, that is said to guarantee the holder’s fertility. If this horn is real, and Cesar somehow managed to find it, it might be enough to cause a Light Elf female desperate to bear child to willingly bind herself to him for a short period of time, despite the exhaustion and misery it would bring.”

  “Wait—then why do you want it?” I asked, suddenly revolted by Damian and Valerie’s reaction. I’d seen how miserable Marielle clearly was. How could they want to do that too?

  “We do not wish to bind anyone, Alyson,” Damian said, guessing at the cause of my question. “Valerie was changed before she could ever have children, and vampires cannot reproduce.”

  I stared at him, realization dawning.

  “And you think this String— this crystal horn thing might change that?”

  But neither he nor Valerie had to answer. The hopeful look in their eyes was enough. I slumped back against the couch, stunned.

  I’m not sure how long we would have remained in that frozen tableau had Tom not returned downstairs a few seconds later, looking dissatisfied.

  “I couldn’t find any sign of anything…” he said as he entered the room, his voice trailing off when he noticed us. “Um, what exactly did I miss here?”

  When neither Damian nor Valerie made a move to respond, I realized I would have to. “Damian thinks Cesar might have found an ancient fertility horn and used that to bribe Marielle into temporarily binding herself to him.” And now Valerie and Damian want it for themselves, I added silently, deciding to share that tidbit with Tom later, when I might privately discuss my concerns with him. I was relieved to see Tom’s eyes showed none of their desperation at this revelation, just a lingering confusion.

  “Ooo-kay. So if we find this magic horn, will it break the bond Cesar has over Marielle and make him easier to capture?” Tom asked.

  ”It will depend on the nature of their contract, but yes, it might help
,” Damian responded, his tone sounding as cool and reserved as always, though it was belied by the slow-to-die glimmer in his eyes.

  “How on earth will we figure out where he is keeping it though?” Valerie asked.

  She hadn’t managed to reclaim as much composure as Damian; her voice sounded slightly ragged with desperation.

  Damian looked at me. Slowly, Valerie’s eyes followed his, and then Tom’s.

  “Oh no," I said. "Don’t count on me to solve this one. I’m not a psychic Sherlock Holmes, and I got nothing from his house or people, remember?”

  Tom nodded, and returned his gaze to the room, obviously ready to start brainstorming new strategies. But Damian and Valerie’s glances didn’t waver.

  “Maybe the deadening spell has worn off enough now that you will be able to pick something up,” Damian said at the exact same time as Valerie said “It couldn’t hurt to try again.”

  I turned to Tom. I avoided giving him a pleading look, despite being sorely tempted, because I hated pulling the whole damsel-in-distress move—it made me feel like the last several decades of progress in women’s rights had never happened. But I was hoping to read some hope in getting out of this somewhere in his features. I wasn’t sure why, but the thought of returning to Cesar’s creeped me out, even more than the prospect of having no leads as to how to find Cesar did. Illogical, yes—but then again, so was most of what had been happening over the last few days.

  Unfortunately, the practicality I’d adored just moments before, when Tom had drained all the tension in the room with his simple questions, now worked against me. I saw him nodding, and my hope that he would have some brilliant plan that avoided Nashville entirely disappeared.

  “Valerie’s right, I don’t see how it could hurt to check," he said, shrugging. "We don’t have any better leads. Plus it will give us a chance to see for ourselves what Temora’s knights have found.”

  ”Shouldn’t we at least wait until tomorrow night, to give the deadener a bit more time to wear off?” I asked. Not that procrastination would solve anything, but even though I knew they were right I still wasn't eager to act on their plan.