Old Dogma New Tricks (The Elven Prophecy Book 2)

by Theophilus Monroe

  It was an uneventful walk but productive nonetheless.

  I climbed the stairs leading to my apartment, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.

  Before I could turn on the lights, I was enveloped by two arms and a pair of lips pressed against mine. I wrapped my arms around her. It was still dark, but I knew the taste of those lips. Layla was back. Thank God

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Thank God it’s you!” I said as we briefly pulled away from each other.

  “Who else would it be?” Layla asked. “Do random people sneak into your apartment and start kissing you when you come home?”

  I shook my head. “You’d be surprised. It’s a hard-knock life.”

  Layla giggled. “Sorry I had to leave so quickly.”

  “You seem like you’re in good spirits. I’m sorry about your father.”

  Layla nodded. “He isn’t dead after all.”

  “And Hector? He’s back?” I asked.

  Layla shook her head. “I suppose Agnus filled you in on those details.”

  I nodded. “I was worried. Benefits of having a cat who can talk. When your girlfriend leaves the planet without so much as a goodbye, at least I’m not totally in the dark.”

  Layla sighed. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “So, your father isn’t dead?” I asked.

  Layla shook her head.

  “And Hector isn’t back from the dead?” I asked.

  “Not exactly,” Layla said.

  “What do you mean, not exactly?” I asked. “People believe your father is dead and that there’s some kind of revolution to take over the kingdom led by Hector, claiming to be the chosen one.”

  Layla cocked her head. “How do you know about all that?”

  I bit my lip. She didn’t know about Brag’mok.

  “I was going to tell you just before you disappeared.”

  “Tell me what?” Layla asked.

  “B’iff’s brother Brag’mok is here, and he wanted me to retrieve B’iff’s body from the source. He said the rites needed to be completed. That as his kin, he’ll be in pain until his brother is properly put to rest.”

  Layla sighed. “Brag’mok, you said?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. He’s even been training me to fight since you left. He was willing to wait until you got back because once we pulled B’iff’s body from the source, there was a chance—”

  “That it would close the gate forever,” Layla said, finishing my thought.

  I nodded. “Exactly.”

  “And Brag’mok showed up at your AA meeting to tell you this?” Layla asked.

  I sighed. “Not exactly. He was the one who slashed the Mitsubishi’s tires. He approached me on the Metro.”

  “That was before I left. Why didn’t you tell me?” Layla asked, scratching her head.

  “He told me not to,” I said. “He said if I told you that you’d go back, and if you went back, you’d be killed.”

  Layla shook her head and sat down on the couch. “So you took some random giant’s advice and kept it from me?”

  “I was about to tell you!” I insisted. “I’d just gotten done processing what he’d told me. That’s why I went to my meeting that night.”

  “You shouldn’t have to go to a fucking meeting to figure out that you should be honest with me, Caspar.”

  I sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. But…”

  “But what?” Layla asked. “I wouldn’t have gone back. I would have agreed. I would have helped you do it. We could have closed the gate and ended it all.”

  “But Layla,” I said. “The prophecy.”

  “But we could have saved your world,” Layla said. “Prophecies have a way of coming true one way or another.”

  “Layla,” I said, taking her hand in mine and lacing our fingers together. “What happened on New Albion when you left?”

  Layla nodded. “Remember before I left, I’d told you about fairies?”

  I sighed. “Yeah, about that. Since you left—”

  “A fairy came after you?” Layla asked.

  I nodded. “How’d you guess?”

  Layla shook her head. “I figured they might. Fairies are known for trickery.”

  “You don’t need to tell me that,” I said, rolling my eyes. “My hair.”

  “I kind of like it,” Layla said, chuckling. “I mean, I like it long, too, but you have a nicely shaped head.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “The fairy put Nair in my shampoo bottle.”

  Layla laughed out loud. “Well, that’s something.”

  “He did a lot more than that.”

  Layla grinned. “You can tell me all about that later. With the gate open permanently, a large contingency of fairies has traveled back and forth between the worlds. Some of those who came with us when our ancestors left Earth came here. Some of the fairies who’d hidden here on Earth went to New Albion. They reunited, and with more power, they’ve become emboldened. I think they’re looking for revenge.”

  “On elves?” I asked.

  “And humans,” Layla said. “It wasn’t Hector who attempted to assassinate my father. It was a fairy impersonating Hector. He’d apparently showed up a few days before claiming to be the chosen one, but my father knew Hector had stabbed himself.”

  “But it wasn’t with the Blade of Echoes,” I said. “Your father should have known that even if Hector had survived, as it seemed he had, he hadn’t fulfilled the prophecy. He didn’t survive a stab by the Blade of Echoes.”

  “I’m sure he realized that,” Layla said. “But the fact that Hector had survived a stab by a blade that looked like the Blade of Echoes and other legionnaires witnessed it when they were on Earth was an opportunity to try to force the hand of the prophecy. To raise who he thought was Hector up as the chosen one and use him as a general to lead the legions to Earth.”

  “But it wasn’t Hector. You said it was a fairy impersonating him?”

  Layla nodded. “And that wasn’t the only fairy. There were hundreds of them. They didn’t kill my father. They wouldn’t do that. But they abducted him. One fairy impersonated him, and the one pretending to be Hector faked an assassination.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Why would they do that?”

  “To cause upheaval in the kingdom,” Layla said. “Fairies manipulate their enemies by creating chaos. In this case, they knew if word came that my father had been killed, I’d have no choice but to return to New Albion.”

  “Why would they want you to go back?” I asked.

  “Because I was teaching you how to use magic,” Layla said. “If I left and they closed the gate, we’d be stuck on a hostile planet without much magic left. And you’d be here, the only one who can use magic. All they’d need to do was convince you not to use it.”

  I sighed. “Which was exactly what they did.”

  “How did you get back?” I asked. “If they were hoping to close the gate?”

  Layla shook her head. “They wouldn’t close the gate now. I think it’s because Brag’mok is still here. They were looking for a way to get him back to New Albion.”

  “For the same reason they wanted you to leave Earth?” I asked.

  “I think so,” Layla said. “Because he could teach humans how to use magic, as I did. You said he was already teaching you.”

  I sighed. “He told me I had to embarrass myself. If I made enough of a fool of myself, they’d stop their pranks.”

  “He said what?” Layla asked. “That makes no sense unless he was trying to distract you. To get you off their scent.”

  “He told me that if I embarrassed myself, I’d appease the fairies, and if I stopped using magic, they’d leave me alone.”

  “Of course he did,” Layla said. “Do you know where Brag’mok is now?”

  I shook my head. “He usually meets me in the park in the morning.”

  Layla nodded. “Then we need to kill him.”

  “What?” I asked. “He’s not our enemy.”

  “No, he�
�s not,” Layla said. “And I’m sure it was originally him who appeared to you. But the one who told you to embarrass yourself? That sounds like fairy trickery. I don’t know why he’d tell you that.”

  “Brag’mok, or the person I thought was Brag’mok, was a fairy?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.

  Layla nodded. “Which means B’iff’s brother is in trouble. The fairies must have abducted him, just like they did my father.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “What happened to your father?” I asked.

  Layla shook her head. “I had to make sure he was still alive, and he was. The fairies had surrounded him, trapping him in a cave. I couldn’t get him out, but they weren’t hurting him. At least I didn’t hear any cries. I only got one glimpse of him, but he looked fine. Healthy. Even happy if you could believe it.”

  “Why didn’t they just kill him?” I asked.

  “Fairies aren’t opposed to killing for the greater good, but it isn’t their way since magic is part of the source of life.”

  “And since they see themselves as the protectors of magic, killing would be, like, heresy or something?” I asked.

  Layla nodded. “Don’t get me wrong. Fairies can wreak all kinds of havoc, but given any other choice, they won’t kill. At least not directly. Not intentionally.”

  “And you didn’t try to rescue your dad?” I asked.

  Layla shook her head. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. There were just too many fairies. I’d never seen so many on New Albion. Most of them must’ve come from Earth. Not to mention, even if I did save him and he reaffirmed his claim on the throne, he’d know I was back on New Albion. Remember, I am still suspected of treason on account of siding with you.”

  I nodded. “It would have been too great a risk.”

  “So is allowing the fairy impersonating Brag’mok to continue doing so. I don’t trust it. They’re up to something.”

  “I’m not sure your theory about him adds up,” I said. “Brag’mok continued training me. Do fairies know fighting skills?”

  Layla stared at me. “Of course they do.”

  “But the one that was hassling me, it was so small, like Tinkerbell.”

  “First,” Layla said. “Tink isn’t a fairy. She’s a pixie.”

  I shrugged. “What’s the difference?”

  “About two inches,” Layla said. “Fairies are two inches taller than pixies on average.”

  I cocked my head. “Brag’mok is at least seven feet tall, probably closer to eight. There’s no way.”

  “A fairy can alter its size or shape through magic. They aren’t particularly good at it unless they’ve captured the person whose appearance they intend to copy. Sort of like how an artist might require a model when painting or sculpting a figure.”

  I took a deep breath. “Which was how they impersonated your father.”

  Layla nodded. “All I saw was the corpse at the funeral. Not sure if it was dead. I mean, a fairy doesn’t have the usual vital signs that elves and humans do. Even without a heartbeat or not breathing, the fairy could still be very much alive, just waiting until they buried the body to resume its normal shape and disappear.”

  I scratched my head. “Well, if fairies can shift so convincingly, how do I know for sure that anyone is who they say they are?”

  “Including me?” Layla asked. “I mean, that’s what you’re wanting to ask me, isn’t it?”

  I sighed. “Not that I don’t believe you.”

  “Would a fairy kiss you the way I did before?” Layla asked, smirking in a mildly seductive way.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve never kissed a fairy before.”

  “Sure you haven’t,” Layla said. “It’s okay if you did. I mean, everyone experiments in college, right?”

  I snorted. “I didn’t even know fairies existed back then. Besides, how would you even know what college is like?”

  “I’ve studied human college,” Layla said.

  “Is there a college for that?” I asked. “Majoring in college studies?”

  Layla chuckled. “No. And even if I went to college, I’d never major in anything ending with the word ‘studies.’ Not unless I was independently wealthy and had no career aspirations.”

  “Heaven forbid, a useless college degree. Why would anyone get one of those?” I coughed into my hand.

  “Didn’t you major in philosophy before you went to seminary?” Layla asked.

  I sighed. “Yeah, but philosophy is useful—if you ever want to sound smart in a crowd or confuse the hell out of people. Besides, I had a second major in history.”

  “Right,” Layla said. “Because history is an incredibly lucrative field.”

  “Hey,” I said. “History is important. If you don’t know your history, you’re doomed to repeat it.”

  “You’re missing the point,” Layla continued. “If I was a fairy, would I know about your college majors?”

  I shook my head. “Still isn’t proof. I mean, you could probably find out what my college major was by finding one of my old resumes or transcripts or looking it up on the internet. And I assume modern-day fairies could access a computer if they wanted to.”

  Layla scratched the back of her head. “Agnus!”

  My cat came running and jumped into her lap and purred.

  “If I was a fairy,” Layla continued, “Agnus would know it. Cats can’t stand the smell of fairies.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “But if you were a fairy, you could just lie to me about that.”

  “It’s true,” Agnus piped up. “That whole time that fairy was screwing with you, this apartment smelled like ass.”

  “Fairies smell like ass?” I asked. “Don’t cats smell butts sometimes?”

  “Please!” Agnus protested. “Dogs sniff ass, and some of them eat shit. We’re more refined than that.”

  “Bullshit, Agnus,” I said. “I’ve seen you sniff butts before.”

  “Only if it's another cat,” Agnus said. “I’d never sniff a human butt. And that fairy smelled like human ass.”

  I scratched my head. “How do you even know that if you’ve never sniffed human butts before?”

  Agnus stared at me blankly. “Your flatulence.”

  “Not the same,” I said. “Sniffing the source is completely different.”

  “I doubt it’s completely different. It’s close enough, and I have an imagination.”

  “Sure you do,” I said. “Agnus, do you sniff my drawers when I’m sleeping?”

  “No!” Agnus said. “Not yours. Layla’s maybe, but not yours.”

  “You what?” Layla asked.

  “Kitty likes the smell of kitty, what can I say?”

  Layla quickly tossed Agnus off her lap onto the floor. “If he couldn’t talk, I wouldn’t think anything of it. But after what he just said, having him on my lap…”

  “It’s okay,” Agnus said. “I understand. You have to pretend you aren’t into me when he’s around. We’ll have our fun later.”

  Layla just shook her head, then looked at me. “He doesn’t know when to quit, does he?”

  “No, he doesn’t,” I said. “Put on Animal Planet or something. Channel his passions toward something more appropriate.”

  Layla grabbed the remote and navigated to the proper channel.

  “Oh, my God!” Agnus shouted. “Elephants! Change the channel. I don’t know why they even show this. I mean, honestly! Who the hell is into elephants?”

  “I don’t think the producers at Animal Planet consider the sexiness of a species when making programming choices,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Besides, Agnus, you’re seriously not into trunks?”

  “Are you?” Agnus asked.

  “Not really,” I said. “Fair point. But I know what you do like. I bet I can get Lion King on Disney Plus.”

  “Lion King?” Agnus asked. “The cartoon or the newer movie version?”

  I shrugged. “There’s a movie version?”

  “Much hotter than the
original,” Agnus replied with a nod.

  “I had no idea,” I said, chuckling. “But doesn’t the cartoon work for you?”

  “Do cartoon women do it for you, Caspar?” Agnus asked.

  I bit my lip. “Not usually, unless it’s anime.”

  “Seriously?” Layla asked.

  “No, not really.” I cleared my throat. “I mean, not that I’d admit, anyway.”

  Layla giggled and shook her head. “Men are so weird.”

  “So, what’s the plan with Brag’mok?” I asked. “I want to make sure that your theory is correct before we even consider you shooting an arrow through his heart.”

  Layla shrugged. “Then we bring Agnus with us.”

  “If he is a fairy, do you think he’s going to let us bring our cat along?” I asked.

  Layla shook her head. “He’ll avoid Agnus at all costs, which is exactly how we’ll know.”

  “Unless he just doesn’t like cats,” I said.

  “Who doesn’t like cats?” Agnus asked with a hint of shock in his voice.

  “Dog people,” I said. “Believe it or not, a lot of people don’t like cats.”

  “Savages,” Agnus quipped, leaping off the couch.

  “Dog people are savages?” I asked as Agnus walked the other way.

  “Barbarians works, too,” Agnus continued.

  “Where are you going?” I asked. “We’re trying to formulate a plan.”

  “I have to take a shit, Caspar. Do I need to announce my every intention?”

  I snorted. “No. Sorry. I guess not.”

  Agnus huffed and continued walking into the laundry room where I kept his litter box. Not the most ideal place for it, but in a small apartment, I was lucky to have a room dedicated to laundry, and I didn’t have a better option. I wasn’t going to put it in my room or in the kitchen. Gross. Not the living room either. So his box went into the laundry room. I remembered to tidy up his box from time to time. He had a self-cleaning affair that worked with clumping litter; it sifted through the litter after it sensed he’d been in there and dumped the crumbs into a little chamber I kept lined with a bag. All I had to do was replace the bag every couple of days. Then I didn’t have to change the litter as much as make sure he had enough and top it off regularly. Once a month, give or take, I’d change it all for good measure, but for the most part, the high-tech cat box worked pretty well. As long as he didn’t have diarrhea. Then the whole system went to shit.