It was as stupid as it sounded, but that was the argument.
We had a few hours to burn before that.
Layla interlaced her fingers with mine. “How about a round of ioga?”
“Yoga?” I asked. “I mean, I know that’s not what you do, but the videos you’ve been making me do are actually yoga.”
Layla bit her lip. “I’m not talking about that. No videos. I thought maybe I could show you a few moves.”
“Like what?” I asked. “I spent all evening perfecting one of the poses. Shavasana. It’s my favorite.”
“Corpse pose?” Layla asked. “The only thing you do for that is lie on your back and breathe.”
“Like I said, I’ve got that one mastered.” I grinned.
“You can do that one if you like. But I could show you a few others while you’re doing it. A few poses from on top.”
I dropped my jaw and widened my eyes. “I think I follow where you’re going with this now.”
Layla nodded, stood, and helped pull me off the couch. She winked.
I followed her to the bedroom.
Chapter Five
Originally I had hoped to catch an AA meeting before the council meeting, but Layla and I found other ways to fill the time. I couldn’t believe it. Usually, I was only good for a few minutes, but in my current state of soreness, unable to move much, she was in complete control—and she made it last. Oh, how wonderfully long it lasted!
Before I realized it, too much time had passed. I wasn’t going to make a meeting. I’d get over it.
I usually tried to make two or three meetings a week, and they weren’t all at the same time of day. Our AA group had an old mansion where they held multiple meetings daily. Technically it wasn’t owned by AA since that would violate the twelve traditions, but several members had formed a not-for-profit and used the proceeds to purchase the old house for meetings. Suffice it to say, I’d find another meeting. If not tonight, probably in the morning.
Oddly enough, my legs were feeling better. Hell, after all the things Layla did, everything about me felt better.
I mean, I hadn’t expected she’d massage me for that long.
Yes, it was a massage.
Why would anyone think anything else had happened? I’m a minister, so I can’t do that sort of thing outside of marriage. As far as anyone knows, at least. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
Funny thing about sore legs. Going down the stairs is more challenging than climbing them. Despite feeling better, I was still a bit sluggish as I made my way down the stairs. When I got outside, I pulled my keys out of my pocket, then noticed the front driver’s side tire on my Mitsubishi was flat.
I sighed and popped the trunk. Not the first time I had to change a tire. Not even the first time in recent memory.
But then I noticed the rear driver’s side tire was flat, too.
“Well, shit,” I said to myself.
I walked around the car. All of the tires were flat. It couldn’t be an accident.
Someone had probably taken a knife to them. I didn’t see any damage to the sidewalls, but a blade stab to the treads wouldn’t be easy to see.
The only question was, who would do that? I mean, random vandalism wasn’t entirely out of the question, but something in my gut told me it wasn’t random.
Unfortunately, the pub was closed, one of few places that still stayed closed on Sundays. I mean, the place was owned by Irish Catholics. Otherwise, I’d have asked Donna if I could borrow her car. She ran the pub. Her parents, who owned it, only showed up on occasion.
I couldn’t miss the council meeting, not after everything I’d been through. Not after Philip had agreed to revisit the soup kitchen issue.
I quickly texted Layla about the tires. Best to keep her on guard. She’d gradually gotten better with her phone. Elves typically dislike technology, but she’d been coming to Earth to learn about our culture for years. She’d gotten a phone by necessity. When she’d been learning about our world, she hadn’t realized the whole point of her mission was to discover the best way for her father’s legions to attack. She’d thought they were keeping tabs in case they couldn’t save their planet. She had believed that coming to Earth was Plan B. She thought she was learning about how to fit in and join us peaceably if it ever came to that.
Her father had deceived her, and the discovery had been harrowing for her.
And anytime anything bad happened, even something as innocuous as someone cutting us off on the highway, she was afraid some assassin from New Albion was responsible.
My phone dinged. It was Layla.
You should come back. But I’m guessing you won’t.
Nope, I typed back. This meeting is too important. I’ll be fine.
B careful, Layla responded. I grinned. She was getting the hang of this texting thing if she was abbreviating two-letter words with one letter.
Two seconds later, she did it again, this time reducing three letters to one. Even more impressive. Love u.
Love u 2, I texted back. Yes, abbreviating “too” with 2 was a whole other level of texting expertise. Still, I doubted she was impressed. We’d work on the art of the emoji at a later date.
I had one choice; I had to take the Metro.
It wasn’t a far ride to St. Matthews, where the council meeting was supposed to be held. Philip had temporarily taken over my ex-bishop’s post there in addition to continuing to serve his congregation. Not sure why he’d decided to cover the vacancy himself, but since he was reviewing Matthias’ decisions, I imagined assuming his previous post was part of that. And since the council generally met there, he’d decided he wouldn’t rock the boat.
Not rocking the boat was not the strategy I hoped he’d embrace as the new bishop, though perhaps his decision to reinstate me was bound to be controversial enough. Without good reason, avoiding unnecessary changes was wise, I supposed.
I boarded the Metro bus, and after taking my seat, I checked my phone.
Everything ok?
Yup. Agnus is onto a Cheetah documentary now.
I chuckled. Yeah. He has a thing for fast felines.
Layla replied with a laughing-crying emoji. She’d figured out how those worked.
I generally avoided making eye contact with anyone when I had to use the Metro. Not trying to be antisocial, but I also didn’t want any trouble.
It usually took two to three times longer to get anywhere by Metro than by car. Thankfully, I’d left early, and we only had a few miles to go. I’d make it in time.
The bus moved from my stop to the next. A massive man got on, massive like Jag. Even larger than B’iff.
And he had a mask on. I mean, it wasn’t unheard of. People sometimes wore masks to prevent the spread of sickness. No one used to, but after that Covid situation, mask-wearing in public was less a matter of looking like you were about to rob a convenience store and more about public safety. He was also wearing a hood.
The whole bus shifted as he boarded. He wasn’t only large, he was heavy. He barely made it through the door.
He looked straight at me.
I diverted my eyes before it became apparent that I was watching him.
Then he took the seats just beside me. Yes, I said “seats.” He filled two of them, almost three.
From my peripheral vision, I could tell he was staring at me.
“We need to talk,” the man said. His voice was gravely and unusually deep, but I’d heard a similar cadence and accent like his before.
I bit my lip and looked at him. His eyes had an oddly golden hue. I’d only seen eyes like that once before, and the leathery skin around his brow confirmed it. He wasn’t human. He was an elven giant, and he apparently knew who I was.
Chapter Six
“You must be Caspar. The human my brother told me about.”
“Your brother was B’iff?”
The giant nodded. “I am Brag’mok. I’ve been sent to collect my brother’s body. He must be granted t
he proper rites.”
I cocked my head. “Wait, you know he’s dead?”
“Connected,” Brag’mok said. “All of our kind. What happens to one of us, all of us feel. The closer kin we are, the more agonizing the pain. For some giants, the death of one is but an itch, a discomfort. They feel it, they sense it, but the pangs wane quickly. For those closest to the deceased, the pain lingers indefinitely. We will have no peace until he is granted the proper rites.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled. “That must be awful. I mean, with all the wars on your world. Every death.”
Brag’mok nodded. “Whatever it is that connects us, that which creates the death pangs reaches across worlds.”
I shook my head. “I can’t imagine what that must be like. Well, you should know, your brother died a hero. He died destroying the Blade of Echoes.”
“And fulfilling a prophecy while also saving you from what we assumed would be the death of the chosen one. When the seal broke, the prophecy was revealed.”
I nodded and bit my lip. “There might be a problem. When he died, your brother's body went into the source. The heart of Earth’s magic. I don’t know if there’s any way to recover it.”
“Please,” Brag’mok said. “It is to everyone’s benefit that we do this.”
I folded my arms. “I want to help. Trust me. And truthfully, I’m thrilled to see you because we could use your help.”
“To stop the elves from coming through.”
I nodded. “You should know, when he died, his body disappeared along with the blade in the light of Earth’s magic. I can’t say for certain that it is even whole anymore.”
Brag’mok shook his head. “Trust me, his body remains intact.”
“If that’s true, I’d love to help you,” I said. “I just don’t know for certain how much help I can be.”
“It is worth an attempt,” Brag’mok said. “You should know that it might benefit your world if my brother is returned to us. It is B’iff’s body, now filled with Earth magic, that has disrupted the ley lines. It is because of that the gates will not close.”
“Then I suppose it is to everyone’s benefit we do this,” I said, shrugging. “Somehow.”
“Our intelligence said you were a minister. One who does many funerals.”
I nodded. “That’s true. I do more funerals than I’d like, I suppose. Comes with the territory when you’re pastoring an older congregation.”
“Apologies, human,” Brag’mok said, shaking his head. “I do not know all this language. This is my first time in your world. You say you are a pastor?”
I nodded. “Comes from a word that means ‘shepherd.’ It means I’m supposed to guide and protect the people in my care, and doing funerals is a part of that.”
Brag’mok tilted his head. “And these people are not offended that you think of them as sheep?”
“It’s a metaphor,” I said. “Do you have sheep on New Albion?”
Brag’mok nodded. “I believe they were brought by our ancestors. Dumb creatures. Helpless. By this metaphor you use, you are saying that your people are stupid?”
I chuckled. “No, not the point. Only that they need a guide.”
“Because you think they are dumb,” Brag’mok repeated.
I sighed. “It’s not a perfect metaphor, I guess. But I don’t think they’re dumb.”
Brag’mok snorted. “No matter. You understand the importance of a death rite, do you not?”
I nodded. “While we don’t feel the kind of pain you’re describing, we do ache when we lose loved ones. Our funerals, our death rites, are a part of giving people a little closure. Not that the pain completely goes away, especially when family or people are close, but it’s part of the healing process.”
“I agree,” Brag’mok said. “Our rituals are also important. We must sever our connection with the deceased. Only when he has ascended the stalk of bean and assumed his place in the sky fortress will the agony of his death be released.”
“The beanstalk?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought that was just a fairy tale.”
Brag’mok grunted. “Fairies. Annoying buggers, they are. It is no surprise that their lore makes a mockery of our own. Why would such stories persist when none of our kind has dwelled on the Earth for centuries?”
I scratched my head. “So, giants and fairies don’t get along?”
Brag’mok rolled his eyes. “No one gets along with fairies.”
I nodded understandingly, which, I suppose, was mildly deceptive. I’d never met a fairy. Hell, it had never occurred to me that fairytales came from real fairies. Of course, I hadn’t realized that fairies were real until now, either. I’d only recently learned that elves and giants were more than folk legends. Of course, Jack and the Beanstalk wasn’t a flattering tale when it came to the giants. I could see why, if it was a literal fairy tale, Brag’mok might find it offensive.
“About your brother,” I said. “You said if his body was consumed by the magic, the gate would close.”
“It is the magic that preserves his body,” Brag’mok said. “That and the cold water of the spring. There’s no telling how long it will take to degrade, if ever. The best way to prevent the elves from coming to Earth is to remove my brother from the core. We must burn his body in accordance with our rites for the sake of your world and so my family can rest.”
“You deserve peace,” I said. “I get that.”
Brag’mok nodded. “The death pangs are part of it, but this kind of pain you describe, the pain humans have when one dies. We feel that too.”
I took a deep breath. “There’s a time to mourn. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” Brag’mok said.
“I want to help, but I was down there with your brother before he died. I don’t know if I could go any deeper. The power is all-consuming.”
“We must try, human.”
I grinned and put my hand on Brag’mok’s shoulder. I was both mildly impressed and taken aback by how solid he was. B’iff had been big and strong, but this giant? He was on another level.
“I want to help,” I said. “I’m just not sure if I can. I have a meeting right now, but when I get back, I’ll talk to Layla about it. I’m sure you know of her. Layla Brightborn, the elven princess?”
Brag’mok grunted, “I know of her, and my brother was in communication with us. Before, I mean. We understand she is with you. But you mustn’t tell her what we plan.”
“Mustn’t tell her?” I folded my arms in front of my chest. “Why wouldn’t I tell her?”
Brag’mok sighed. “Given what we intend to do, I cannot say for sure if the gates will ever open again. I hope to take B’iff and quickly pass through the gate before it closes. If we get to the gate, passing through it will likely force it shut, and this time, there is a chance it will never open again. Not even on a full moon.”
“Which means Layla would be stuck here.” I took a deep breath.
Brag’mok nodded. “And if you tell her, she will undoubtedly find cause to return for one last time that she might settle whatever affairs she must. But if she does, the other elves will arrest her. And if they arrest her…”
“They’ll execute her as a traitor,” I said, finishing the giant’s thought.
Brag’mok nodded. “Most certainly.”
“But I don’t understand,” I said. “If I’m the chosen one, if I’m supposed to unite all people…”
Brag’mok clasped his hands in his humongous lap. “Much is assumed about the role of the chosen one. All we know for certain is what the first five prophecies have said and that you’ve fulfilled each of those. The other two prophecies are yet sealed. We must do what is prudent without making assumptions about what the prophecies might reveal. Until the seals break, we have to work only with what we know.”
I nodded. “I’ll do what I can, but getting away and trying to help you without her knowing will be a challenge.”
Brag’mok nodded
. “You need to find a cover.”
I bit my lip. “Find a cover” was another way of saying I needed to come up with a clever lie. I didn’t like that, but what choice did I have? Something with the church, maybe. That was the one thing I did other than AA meetings that didn’t involve her. And AA meetings were only an hour. They wouldn’t provide sufficient cover for the time Brag’mok and I would need to go to Meramec Springs, recover B’iff’s body, and get back again.
“One question,” I said. “Did you slash my tires?”
“I needed a way to get you alone. To a place where you could talk and you wouldn’t be able to run away.”
“Why would you think I’d run away?” I asked.
Brag’mok shrugged. “You did not know we knew what we know. I thought you’d assume we’d come to avenge B’iff.”
“I wouldn’t assume anything,” I told him.
“Still,” Brag’mok said. “I wanted to be sure.”
“So you slashed my tires? Do you realize how much a new set of tires costs?”
Brag’mok shook his head. “Sorry about that.”
“How’d you even know I’d be leaving? That I’d be going to a meeting tonight and need to take the Metro?”
Brag’mok pulled a small device from his ear. It looked almost like an earbud, but it was crystalline. “With this.”
“What is that?” I asked.
“Call it a bug. There is another small device hidden in your car. I’ve been listening to your conversations, so I knew what your plans for tonight were.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Impressive. Do you have any more of those things hidden around that I should know about?”
“If I had hidden them,” Brag’mok said, grinning from ear to ear, “I certainly wouldn’t tell you about it.”
“So you are still spying on me?” I asked.
Brag’mok snorted. “No. But I could be.”
The brakes on the bus squealed as it came to a stop.
Old Dogma New Tricks (The Elven Prophecy Book 2) Page 4
