by Drew Hayes
“About the . . . serpentiles, you called them?” I asked, trying to make sure I had the term right.
Gideon was barely paying attention to me; he was too busy examining the gem from every angle. “I believe that was their name. Some mage accidentally summoned a small city of them from another world where humanity evolved from lizards centuries ago, and they’ve been lingering about ever since. I presume they wanted the Jewel of Temecula to bring forth more of their kind, maybe even as a gambit to overrun the humans.”
My eyes may have widened just a touch. “Wouldn’t sending themselves back home be easier?”
“Not all worlds are created equal, Fred, and not all societies take the same path. Sometimes, it’s better to be stranded in a new place than to stay where you were.” With a touch of effort, Gideon put his treasure back inside the briefcase and sealed it shut. “Hence, you can see why they’d prefer to bring more of themselves here. That’s part of why I snapped this up once it was on the market; some artifacts are too dangerous to leave in general circulation.”
“And it’s safer with you?” I was surprised by the audacity in Albert’s voice, doubly so by the tender strain of doubt buried in his words.
“Relatively speaking. Yes, I could use it to wreak terrible havoc, but I could also do that easily enough on my own,” Gideon replied. “A trinket here and a bauble there do not substantially change the scope of my power. If I haven’t destroyed an entire country by now, then at least I have a record of proving I can handle such responsibility. Besides, I am a dragon. It is our prerogative to hoard. Now, what did you want to talk to me about in regards to the serpentiles?”
Right, I’d nearly forgotten that it was my question that had started this off. “I was going to ask if there was any way you could . . . not kill them all, I suppose. I know they tried to steal from you, and I understand that the Agency probably isn’t going to intervene thanks to protocol or treaties, but there has to be some kind of jail option. Even for crimes like theirs.”
Having put the gem away, Gideon’s entire attention fell back on us, a fact which carried a weight of its own. “I understand what you’re asking. Your request has been heard, Fred.”
A small sliver of relief shot through me, until I parsed those words more carefully. “You’re still going to kill them, aren’t you?”
“Maybe. Depends on how useful they are to me alive. Subjects for magical experiments are always useful, and I haven’t gotten to work on many serpentiles.” Gideon stepped closer, and his voice became slightly, slightly gentler. “I’m not going to swear their lives to you, or even their wellbeing. I can only say that I will not be any crueler than I deem to be strictly necessary. Harm will serve a purpose. That’s the most I can offer.”
That was all I was going to get, and honestly, even this much was nothing short of amazing. Gideon must have been in an incredible mood, or else he was lying. I had to take him at his word, however. Even if I wanted to interject myself into the way this played out, I couldn’t. I didn’t have the political, physical, or social leverage to impact whatever came next. Gaining mercy for the serpentiles would have required strength I simply lacked. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen the wisdom in Deborah’s advice, but this occasion struck the point home especially hard.
There wasn’t much else to say, so Albert and I took our leave. It was much too late to intrude on Richard and Sally, so we didn’t try for a visit. Instead, we rode back down the elevator, only this time, we were greeted by a single therian. He ushered us out of the building, where we found Deborah and Lillian already waiting.
“My goodness, that was quick,” I remarked.
“Mr. Alderson must run quite the tight ship. His therians were exceptionally well-coordinated, although I did note that they didn’t seem nearly as skittish as usual when dealing with vampires. Some even greeted Lillian by name.” Deborah didn’t seem bothered by these facts, but that didn’t mean I could trust her tone.
“Richard is a friend and a client, as are many of his underlings. Lillian and I work with them here and there, and so familiarity happens, especially since one of their pack is also a member of my clan.”
“Ah yes, Mr. Bubba Emerson.” Deborah started to walk away from the building, leading the rest of us along. “It’s quite interesting, really. We’ve tried to ally ourselves with therians many times through the millennia, sometimes it’s even briefly successful, but the fact that nearly all of us see them as food eventually causes a rift. Yet not once, in all of those prior times, have I seen an entire tribe of therians show such trust and comfort around our kind. Doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened, of course, just that I wasn’t witness to it. What you’ve built here is certainly fascinating. Strange, but fascinating.”
I wanted to interpret that as a positive; however, there was no way of knowing just what Deborah had meant by any of it. Maybe it was a hint she wouldn’t kill me. Maybe it was assurance that I’d at least die for creating something unique. Deborah was both too experienced and too subtle for me to figure her out so easily, so the most I could do was keep trying my best and hope I’d showed enough potential to stay alive for another day.
Two large vehicles, black and bearing government plates, pulled up to the curb right next to where we stood. Out of the one came Arch, and from the other came Bubba. Amy stuck her head out the passenger-side window.
“We called for a ride while on our way here,” Lillian told me. “Thought that after a night like this, nobody would want to sprint all the way home.”
“Lillian, remind me of this at the next performance evaluation. You are clearly in need of a raise.” I slipped into the car with Arch purely because I knew he wouldn’t initiate conversation, while the ride with Bubba and Amy would be raucous fun. We did have reason to celebrate, after all: we’d gotten a major artifact into safe(ish) hands without a single innocent person getting hurt. The only non-serpentile who’d been injured was me, and those wounds were already gone.
As we pulled away, I looked back up at the building where, right now, the thieves were probably being lined up in front of Gideon. He’d agreed not to be pointlessly cruel, and dragons largely seemed to be practical creatures at heart, so at least there was a chance that some of the serpentiles might survive. It was a minor comfort, true, but it was all I had to work with.
Part 5
A Verdict at the Trial
1.
Things calmed down after the incident with Gideon and the serpentiles, or at least remained at a level of excitement significantly beneath exploding cars and shoot-outs in the street. Life truly didn’t seem as lively, although some of that had more to do with what was missing than a lack of trouble. Krystal had been gone for nearly six weeks by this point, and while we were still talking at semi-regular intervals, her absence was beginning to take a toll.
Not on our relationship, as we were well-accustomed to dealing with some distance here and there; it was a part of her career that I’d known I was getting into when I popped the question. No, the toll was on life around the manor in general. Without Krystal around, there was less trouble to be stirred up. We didn’t have anyone convincing Charlotte to serve carbonated red wine during dinner, or firing off shots at the makeshift target range in the rear of the house at all hours of the night, or bursting through the front door yelling in either urgency or the hope of alerting us to raccoons having a “cool” brawl outside. Strange as it may be for someone like me to romanticize the idea of chaos, opposites do attract, and life without Krystal was reminding me of why I’d grown to love those strange behaviors as much as the woman who did them.
When the day finally came that Arch joined us at our evening meal and delivered the news that Krystal’s task was almost over, it required all the discipline I had not to cheer. Lillian muttered something about it having taken her long enough, but from the glowing smile on her face, I could tell she was excited about the return. Only Deborah had a subdued reaction, and it turned out that she had good reason for it
.
“So soon? That’s quite a turnaround, given the number of tasks she was handed. I must say, I’m impressed by Agent Jenkins’s efficiency; it appears her reputation was well-earned. Unfortunately, that means my time with all of you is drawing short. I’ll have to render my verdict before her return.”
I glanced around the table, but no one seemed especially taken aback by the news. “Krystal might not be . . . happy about the idea of me being judged for my worthiness as a vampire; however, I don’t think she’ll interfere, especially not when you’re here in an official capacity. She might get involved in the actual carrying out of the order if you opt to kill me—since you’ve researched her, I’m assuming that’s not a surprise—but she’ll let you do your job until then.”
“Remember, Fred, it’s not a coincidence that I came here when I did,” Deborah explained. “My job was to see how you hold up on your own. That was why I waited until Agent Jenkins would be out of the picture for a prolonged period of time. Her presence influences you, as one would expect from a good partner. I wasn’t tasked with seeing how you do as a couple; I was here to evaluate you as an individual. I trust you can understand why that was necessary.”
When we’d first met, I probably wouldn’t have gotten it. I didn’t understand Deborah yet; I didn’t comprehend the weight of the untold years that burdened her. She wanted to see how I would do alone, because, when one took a long-term view of things, that was how she expected me to end up. Eventually, the ones around me would die or leave, and I’d be on my own in charge of those who remained in my clan. I was the lone element she could count on being present in my life, so I was the only one Deborah had to ensure was capable of handling leadership. It wasn’t a philosophy I was sure I agreed with, but I also couldn’t say it was inherently wrong. In the end, it didn’t really matter how well I understood the situation. My comprehension wasn’t required. Only Deborah had to know exactly what was going on.
“She’s not back yet,” Arch reminded us. “They want Fred to meet her for the final phase of her trial in two days’ time. I’ve been tasked as your official escort in and out of the Hollow Woods, since an agent is needed to access our entry points.”
“I assume bodyguards are still welcome?” The way Deborah said it, the words didn’t feel like a question.
“Normally, no, but it seems the representative of Krystal’s trial was unexpectedly fine with you tagging along. They didn’t even seek compensation for the exception.” Arch wasn’t one to put too much of any emotion in his voice, so the threads of suspicion in his present tone stood out in glaring relief. Besides, I was admittedly not the most educated man when it came to dealing with the fey, and even I knew they weren’t the sort to give any ground without reason. I’d heard a few legends that negotiations between dragons and fey could last decades, which was part of the reason those species rarely interacted with one another.
Deborah finished chewing her bite of prime rib before delicately wiping her mouth. “I wouldn’t imagine Hellebore has any reason to object to my presence. After all, we’re old . . . friends might be the wrong word to use when discussing one’s relationship with a fey, but there is an amount of mutual respect between us. She was even kind enough to give Agent Jenkins a particularly long and time-intensive set of tasks so that I could have as much time as possible in making my decision.”
In dealing with Deborah, it was easy to get lost in the polite banter and shared purpose, to momentarily forget that the person we were speaking with was very old and very powerful. She had survived countless eras and centuries for a reason, and it wasn’t simply her raw strength. Deborah planned, thought, schemed, and prepared. That was who she was, and she’d never pretended to be anything else. That was why the news didn’t shock me; rather, it felt like finally seeing the last letters in a word-search. Everything snapped into place, and I realized how obvious it should have been from the start.
“You sent her away. Probably to ensure you could get me to sign on to this whole endeavor in the first place.”
“To be clear, Agent Jenkins was always going to have to do this if she wanted to get married,” Deborah corrected. “You already knew I had coordinated with the fey. Is it truly a surprise that we also had her tasked with an especially lengthy set of assignments? We simply waited for a useful opportunity and utilized it to its full extent. It would have been beyond us to convince Agent Jenkins to endure such trials of her own volition. In a way, Fred, you are the one who presented us with this opportunity. Until you proposed, she didn’t seem to care much either way. You sent her on this quest; we merely made the most of it. And one could argue that removing an agent we don’t trust to follow the laws was a protective measure for her as much as it was for us. The Agency is not a tyranny: they have rules, too, and consequences for ignoring them.”
Logical, well-reasoned, and perfectly spun. I’d expect nothing less from one of Deborah’s explanations. Much as I wanted to be angry at her, the source of my irritation wasn’t actually the situation as a whole. I could see Deborah’s side of things; I understood why she would make those moves. In her place, I might well have done the same, as this was the method least likely to result in any violence. No, the flecks of anger I felt centered solely on the fact that she’d forced Krystal and me to spend more time apart than was strictly necessary. In the context of two ageless lives, six weeks was a pittance, but I’d started to fear that the end could come sooner than either of us wanted. While she was a skilled agent, I was an accountant getting in more and more over his head.
Anger and annoyance wouldn’t have done me any good, however, so I let both feelings fade into the background. There were much larger issues to concern myself with at the moment. “Arch, can you give me a rundown of what we’re looking at? Why am I supposed to attend, where is this Hollow Woods, what is going to be expected of me when we get there, and are there any pitfalls I need to watch out for?”
I almost didn’t catch it, but a stray glance had me looking at Arch just as his eyes flicked between me and Deborah. He thought she was rubbing off on me. Maybe she was, in some ways. I wasn’t entirely on board with Deborah’s dichotomy of power and weakness, but I also wasn’t quite so terrified of growing stronger anymore. There was one place where she’d undoubtedly left an impact, and that was in my view of planning. Deborah had been spot-on about me going into situations with far too little information or forethought. I was the weakest member of my group, and while I didn’t mind that in itself, it meant I needed to be that much more prepared for any kind of trouble.
“I can’t help with any of the ceremony stuff,” Arch said. “The fey are both strict on tradition and big on improvisation, so it fluctuates. There has to be a fair trial for this sort of situation, but what exactly the trial entails is up to the fey who oversees it. As for pitfalls, just be careful what you say and never make a promise around a fey if you can at all avoid it. Although they aren’t as pedantic about deals and language as dracolings, oaths are something sacred to them. It’s why Krystal has to jump through all these hoops to get out of a simple engagement.”
That was good to know. I wasn’t necessarily one to go around making empty promises left and right, but the mere fact that we were being called to deal with the fey suggested that they wanted something from us. I’d be sure to watch my language until we knew for certain what that was.
After a bite of his cooling dinner, Arch continued. “Hollow Woods is easier to explain. There are places in this world where our lands and the fey lands bump against each other. Crossover points, if you will. Our meeting spot is one such area, almost a neutral ground. The Agency keeps all known locations under lockdown to ensure that no innocent humans wander through by accident—hence why you’ll need me to enter. That works out well, though, as it saves me the trouble of having to find a reason to tag along.”
With a mock-gasp, Lillian pressed a hand to her mouth. “Why, Arch, are you going out of your way to come with Fred? Careful. You keep this up, an
d people might catch on that you actually care a little under that gruff exterior.”
“Pure pragmatism,” Arch countered. “If Fred dies, then I have to deal with a furious Krystal on the warpath. That seems like the sort of position that will occupy more time than I’d like to give. Besides, I’m not going along for him. I haven’t spent this long training two new prospects to send them into the fey lands without guidance.”
I knew who he meant, of course. It was immediately obvious. What was more puzzling was why Albert and Neil would be coming along to these Hollow Woods. Luckily, Arch didn’t force me to wait long for an explanation.
“You all kept going off on tangents before I had a chance to finish explaining, but they don’t want Fred, the person. They want the House of Fred in attendance. That means all members, or it’s an insult to the fey. By the treaties, you aren’t obligated to honor their request for your attendance. Krystal, on the other hand, is still under their thumb until this trial is rendered complete.”
That was a complication I hadn’t expected, although perhaps I should have. More members of my clan in play meant more leverage for the fey to use against Krystal, if that was the route they intended to take. Without meaning to, I glanced over at Deborah, who was waiting for my gaze with a smile. We had two days’ time until the meeting. How much preparation could she have made in that time? More importantly, how much was I capable of?
“Let’s call everyone in. They get to make their own choices on whether or not to attend. I’m not going to ask them to walk into something this dangerous without it being their decision.”
