Convergence (Winter Solstice Book 1)

by J. R. Rain

  Based on my description of the room and the brief glimpse in the video chat, they suggested the most likely entity to be a shaz-alor, a part-ethereal-part-solid creature that spawned several legends of demons associated with Sumerian mysticism. Dad doesn’t think it’s a true demon. For him to accept that, he’d have to consider the existence of deities. Neither he nor Mom believe in anything close to actual gods. So many cultures have come up with so many different (often conflicting) ideas of gods, he lumps them all into the pile of folklore. At least the ones he can’t tie to a known creature from The Echo or known human with magical abilities.

  Anyway, a shaz-alor can supposedly draw a living being into its vaporous body and eject them later. The circular path from the window to the desk made me think it grabbed Dr. Kumar and disappeared into the night, but clearly, she got away somehow since she’s back in Geneva. Dad even suggested the good doctor might have magical talent and summoned the thing herself for a quick ride home. It’s as good idea as any. With all the people in that hotel, I doubt the random victim theory. It’s too much of a coincidence that the woman running the project responsible for the Convergence happens to get grabbed by a numina days before the event. According to my parents, uncontrolled shaz-alor tend to ambush people and medium-sized animals, carry them off somewhere remote, and eat them. Mostly. Heart, kidneys, liver, and brain. A skilled enough mage can control them and use them like paranormal Uber. When I mentioned Dr. Kumar was back in Geneva, Mom said a shaz-alor could’ve made the trip there from New York in about an hour.

  Hmm.

  Anyway… spending time with the family at least confirms there’s an island I can flee to if the world decides to treat elves like they do everything else that’s different. I doubt I’m in any danger of discriminatory laws or anything that organized unless a sudden influx of Val’nathiri occurs. Even if it did, Mom is sure they’d keep to Wales, or New Zealand, or some other place with boatloads of trees. My money is on the Pacific Northwest.

  I wound up staying the night again and heading back to the City Friday morning. Eva’s emergence from her shell charged up the parents. You’d think they’d gotten ten years younger. Following the validation of her not being crazy for seeing all those numina, she almost reached my levels of chattiness at that age. And yes, when our inevitable encounter with her PlayStation happened, she demanded I choose the elf character. Aside from being blonde and blue-eyed, the avatar did bear a rather striking resemblance to my shape. I suppose legends have to come from somewhere.

  From about eleven in the morning until four, I lounge around my apartment, poring over a couple of books I borrowed from Dad. The whole ‘magic’ thing has been part of my life for as long as I can remember, but you know how when you force a kid to take piano lessons, they wind up hating it? Okay, that’s maybe a bad example. I didn’t hate it. It’s magic. Magic is cool. Much cooler than playing the piano. Still, being made to do something can turn anything (even magic) into a chore, so perhaps I didn’t apply myself to it as much as I should have. Failed glamours turning me into a giant firefly ring a bell? And by the way, my upstairs neighbor only remained a potted plant for about six minutes. I really wish I could’ve listened to that 911 call.

  So, a lot of reading happened. Maybe a couple of Lances went out my window into the empty lot beside my building when I thought no one was watching. Maybe I accidentally summoned a D’vashir (ill-tempered minor air elemental with the personality of an imp) which ran off and is probably causing havoc somewhere. But I did figure something about Vanish. It’s not limited to living matter as I had assumed when it left the hospital gown out. It’s one contiguous object at a time. Had I cast it again specifically targeting the gown, it would’ve gone with me. Of course, in Theories of Concurrent Ensorcelment, a mage from 1704 describes how glamours with the same arcane signature merge into one running enchantment and devour the energy maintaining them in an exponential arc.

  Simply put, if I use magic that has a duration, say make me invisible for fifteen minutes, and I use the same spell to make something else invisible, both things stay invisible for seven minutes. Add a third object, and all three will pop back into being in three minutes. Makes me want to start wearing dresses. My ass plus shirt plus pants is three minutes and not really enough time to even bother with. Not to mention underwear and shoes.

  Same goes for protective enchantments. The book’s example used a ward that deflected charms. Invoking it on two people cut the time it lasts in half. Three people, half again. But one Vanish and one charm protection wouldn’t conflict because the magic resonates at a different level. And spells with variable intensities combined on the same target for increased potency (like casting two charm resistance spells to make the protection stronger) decay even faster.

  Ugh. This shit is complicated.

  My brain is jelly by four, plus Diego is always home about that time on Fridays. I’ve been evasive on the phone with him about not seeing him all week. ‘Stuff for work’ is close enough since my work is related to supernatural strange crap, and that’s exactly what I’ve been up to my almost-gone boobs in.

  I sigh.

  That thought makes me blush for the first time in years. I wonder if Mom or Dad designed my ‘human’ appearance. Which one of them chose the bust size of the illusion? Thinking about my parents thinking about my boobs crosses some line that mental ramblings should never cross. Hell, I was four years old. Neither one of them probably even considered it and let the glamour do its own thing. Maybe it followed my subconscious desire or self-image as I got older. Who knows?

  But hey, I can grab doorknobs blind and not ram my hand into sharp things now. Go me.

  All right. Enough putting it off. Diego’s expecting me tonight.

  “Just go. I’ll come along if you want?” Mr. Moody holds up a paw and stretches out his claws. “If he gets out of line, I can give him an attitude adjustment.”

  “Oh, you’re my hero.” I cuddle the cat. “Who’s my precious little furbaby?” I pause. “You know how weird it is that you can hear my thoughts?”

  “How do you think I feel? Oh, and you do realize I can understand you now, right?” He sounds pained. “I am no longer a kitten. I submit to you that baby talking accomplishes nothing but makes you appear foolish and demeans me.”

  I love this cat. Laughing, I drop him on the bed and hit the shower. Hmm. Slinky black dress tonight? Or maybe the blue one?

  “Black dress,” yells Mr. Moody from the bedroom.

  No sense bothering with underwear right now, all it’ll do is decorate Diego’s floor. I throw a clean set in my bag for after and slip into the little black dress. Okay, this is way too short to go commando. Once I fix that problem, I grab my nicest pair of heels. Figure if I’m invoking the black magic of that dress tonight, I may as well go all the way with the shoes. I hate the little buckles on the ankle straps. You’d think for footwear this expensive (at least to my budget) they’d not feel like they’re going to snap off at any second.

  On the way down the hall, I chuckle at myself for getting the hang of heels so fast back when I was sixteen. Also, it makes sense now why neither of my parents was shocked that it took all of five minutes for teenage me to look like I’d been wearing them for years. Yay elven reflexes.

  Diego opens the door to his apartment in a crimson silk robe. His inviting grin falls off his face in seconds. Uh oh. He stops leaning against the doorjamb and fidgets, almost embarrassed. “Do I know you?”

  Oh. Whew. No big deal. “It’s me. Sol. Coming off a really weird week.”

  Apparently, my voice is the same. His grin comes back. I follow him inside to the scent of burning candles. I wonder if he thinks he did something wrong and this is going to be the apology night.

  “That’s a rather striking color.” He heads straight to the dining room table and pops open a bottle.

  Anxiety twists my stomach. His body language has gone from romantic to amused. Halfway across the living room, I catch a hint of a
wonderful seafood type aroma wafting in from the kitchen. My brain likes it but my stomach has other plans. “The paella smells amazing.”

  Diego pours two cups of rose wine and saunters over, offering one. “I am offline tonight.” He pivots his hands up in a shallow gesture of surrender. “No interruptions.”

  I sniff the wine and give it a swirl around the glass. Dry. I lower the drink and stare at him. “I’ve missed you. Sorry things have been so crazy for me.”

  He takes a sip, tilts his head, and squints a little. “Is that for an assignment?”

  “What?” I shift my jaw side to side, dreadfully aware of the ears protruding from my hair.

  “Oh, wait! It’s ‘Renfest’ makeup, right?” He laughs. “Kind of a thirteen-year-old geek thing? Hate to tell you, babe, you do not have the ass of a thirteen-year-old geek.”

  Actually… I kind of do. Eva’s got more curves than me now. Maybe the ears are good. They keep his attention off the hips. “Diego… there’s something I need to tell you. I only found out a couple days ago, so you have to understand it was never my intention to deceive you.”

  He raises one eyebrow. “You’re not suddenly going gay on me, are you? Got something going on with that FBI chick?”

  “No.” I exhale out my nose. Truth is, that’s a remarkably perceptive guess. Kudos to him. Not that I’m in love with her or anything. We’re just close friends, and apparently for elves, that’s enough to hop in bed. “That’s not it. You see, I’m… not really a human. In fact, I never was.”

  Diego raises his glass to a growing grin. He tries to sip but winds up laughing. “Where’s the camera, babe? You’re doing one of those YouTube pranks, right?”

  “I’m not. This is what I really look like.”

  “Why the games?” He saunters closer, caressing my cheek and staring into my eyes. I can’t tell if he’s being romantic or trying to look through what he thinks are expensive cosmetic contact lenses. “Did Scott put you up to this? They know I’m not into that sort of jazz. Elves and dragons or whatever.” Scott, someone from his office, had been the focus of Diego’s tirade the last time I’d been here.

  I guide his hand to my ear. “Feel it. They’re warm. This is really me. Something happened last Saturday, and it’s affected the whole world.”

  He squeezes the tip between his thumb and finger too hard, making me wince and gasp.

  “Ow.”

  Diego chuckles. “The paper you work for arranged this, right? Theater quality makeup for one of those fairytales of theirs?”

  “That’s not true. Most of the stuff we write about is real, but people don’t believe it.”

  “This is why your paper says, ‘for entertainment purposes only’ at the bottom.” He leans in and kisses my cheek at the end of my jaw. Beard scratch sends tiny threads of lightning racing up and down my spine.

  “We… have to.” I writhe into his embrace, letting him kiss at the right side of my neck.

  His hands explore me, slipping down my back to my ass. He squeezes it, but can’t hide the moment of hesitation. Up on tiptoe, I kiss his collarbone. Diego hesitates again when he cups my breast. That time, the spell breaks and he leans back. Is that disgust or horror in his expression?

  My face burns. “W-what’s wrong?”

  “You look and sound like Solstice, but your body… this isn’t her body.” Diego twirls his hand around in a circle. “What have you done to yourself?”

  “I didn’t do anything. This is me. My parents tried to help me fit in by hiding me with a glamour, but something happened last weekend that broke it.”

  Diego holds up a finger and hurries to the kitchen, leaving his glass on the table along the way. While he’s tending to the paella, I wander his apartment in aimless pacing, trying not to cry. This night feels like it’s already careening toward disaster. When we first met, it took him awhile to warm up to me. One of his work friends tried to swoop in on me when Diego went to the bathroom, told me how his buddy liked women with significant assets, and a huge chest, neither of which I had, even in my old illusionary human form. That guy radiated creep, so I ignored him. Diego wound up inviting me over and I went… two years later, here we are.

  And this is probably going to be our last night as a couple. The reek of smoke, of us going down in flames, is in the air. Maybe we’ve been on life support for a while anyway. No matter how angry I can talk myself into being with him, if we break up, there’s going to be tears later. But not now. Not in front of him. No, I am beyond bullshit. If anything is going to remain between us, it needs to be open. I need him to accept me for who I am, who I’ve always been. I wonder if he’s refusing to believe because elves don’t exist in his mind, or if the same effect that keeps some normals from remembering whenever they witness magic is responsible.

  I’m in the den. My gaze settles on a silver globe, obviously a magnet, studded with paperclips and thumbtacks. I nab a tack and stride out into the living room again. Diego’s at the table, setting two plates of yellow rice decorated with mussels at the corner. He looks back at me as I approach, still with that amused smile like I’d dressed up in some silly outfit to mess with him.

  “Diego…” I reach up and prick the tip of my right ear with the tack. “Ow. Okay. Look.” Head to the side, I pull my hair back so he can see the droplet of blood that’s hopefully swelling there.

  His mouth hangs open. Yeah, there’s blood.

  And… the revulsion in his eyes tells me we’re probably over.

  I wipe a finger and sure enough, a small red smear is on my finger. Cherry syrup on vanilla ice cream. “See? Not latex. My ears aren’t prosthetic. I am an elf. I always have been, but I never knew it.”

  Diego stumbles back. It takes him a second to descramble his brain and stammer, “Y-you’re not even human? You’re something else? Some kind of creature out of a fantasy film?”

  This is the kind of reaction I expected from everyone. “I’m not a ‘creature,’ Diego Fernandez. I’m the same woman you’ve been with for two years.”

  “No… you’re different. Shorter, thinner. You look like you’ve had eighty grand worth of cosmetic surgery shave ten years off.”

  I stare down at my hand, twirling the thumbtack around my fingers. The little pin weaves and bobs, a constant state of seeming about to fall, but it doesn’t. “I haven’t had surgery. My parents put magic on me to conceal what I was so people didn’t react like you’re reacting.”

  “This… I don’t even begin to know how to process this.”

  “My outside’s a little different, but the who of me is the same.” I take his hand and guide it to my cheek. “I’m still the same woman you went ice skating with, who you got into a fistfight with Brian over when he tried to bump me overboard on that yacht because he thought it would be funny. I’m the same woman who loves watching those cheesy Mexican cowboy movies with you, even if I do need the subtitles turned on.” I turn my head to put my inhuman ear against his fingers. “I’m still me.”

  He pulls back.

  That hurts more than the pin. I can’t look at him. “Why are you being like this? I’m not disgusting.”

  Diego walks off to the right and starts pacing. “I have no frame of reference. Elves? You’re asking me to believe in elves now?”

  “I could ask you to believe in magic too.”

  “Oh, sure. Why not.”

  I hold my palm up and cast Light, creating a three-inch glowing ball.

  He blinks, runs both his hands up over his hair, lacing his fingers behind his head… and laughs. “I have nothing to say to that. How are you doing that? That’s a hologram, right? Where’s the projector?”

  “No projector. Magic exists. I exist.” I walk up to him again. “Look at me. Touch me. I’m here, and I’m real, and I’m asking you to accept that.”

  Diego dodges contact and walks around me back toward the table. The aroma of paella has gone from amazing to nauseating. “It’s… I need to think, come to terms. There’s a lot going
on right now. The SEC is breathing down―”

  I can’t take this. Emotion boils up inside me and I snap.

  “You always did pay more attention to your job than me,” I shout. “Every time we try to be together, the office always takes precedence. Even when you thought I was human, before you found out I’m some… some… thing, you’d leave me sitting there waiting while you tore someone’s head off over the phone, or had to finish just one more email or a spreadsheet, or wrap up a couple more trades for a client.”

  He stares at me, motionless, mouth not quite closed. A flare of anger crosses his eyes. I watch his hands. Our relationship pivots in midair. For the first time, I think he might get physical. We’ve had a few spats before―who doesn’t―but he’s staring at me like some random woman who broke into his apartment. No… worse… like a lesser being. His Chinese food joke hits me. Of course. He’s always fired off these little bits of ethnic humor. Or had he been letting me see deeper inside? Those moments when his guard slipped. He’d barely looked at Jade the night we double-dated, spent the whole time talking to me or Paula. Is Diego a racist or am I hunting for something to get angry about? If he is, no wonder he can’t handle me now. I’m not even the same species.

  “Look.” He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “You’re asking me to believe the unbelievable, and getting pretty far along in proving to me that you’re not even a human.”

  I half-turn away. “So, just like that the past two years mean nothing?”

  “It’s not that. It’s―”

  “You think I’m a thing now. Lesser. Lower than a Chinese person or Indian or whatever group you think you’re better than. That’s only a change on the outside, and I’m different all the way to the bone.”