by Gavin Green
Chapter 23
Harkin was tall for a male of his low-caste fae species, standing at nearly five feet. He was a harpy - one of the scarce males of his race - who were normally affiliated with and served the Drommen fae. This occasion was no different.
Matted, ash-gray hair hung low over his hunched but lean torso. His dark eyes were bloodshot and rimmed red around the lids. Harkin's face was long, slender, and sallow, much like his nose and scowling mouth. His large bat-like ears, while prominent and ugly, provided excellent hearing. His arms were a bird's wings, but at the end of his radius bones were simple, grasping claws ending in talons. The feathers ranged from dull white to jaundiced yellow to a gritty gray. Harkin always wore a worn crimson vest and trousers, but was shoeless to take advantage of his splayed, clawed feet.
Among the low-caste of fae, harpies were proud and sometimes arrogant, but never to a high-borne race. They were favored by the Drommen for their intellect; a dim low-borne would not be kept long in the service to the wisest of the fae. Harpies were known for the power of their voices, used for both defense and offense; an effective tool for protecting their masters.
Harkin had recently been chosen to serve the venerated Mistress Enochia of Eight not long after his old master - a fine elder in his own right - had finally succumbed to the everlasting dream. On a quiet and drizzly mid-December night, Harkin was to officially begin his service to his Mistress by escorting her to a meeting with a magistrate from the Circle, and he planned to prove his worth.
As Harkin approached the black tent in the starlit night, he saw no guardian or bell to announce their presence. He turned back to his Mistress in confusion, not sure how to proceed considering the poor arrangements. Her gentle shrug allowed him the latitude to improvise. He began to release a vocal pitch that would cause no harm to a high-borne, letting it out slow and sure as it grew in strength.
Almost immediately, the large steed out in the field whinnied and bolted. A moment later, the flap to the tent was shouldered open by a pixie. The little brunette fae was holding her hands to her ears and violet blood was trickling from her tiny, petite nose.
Moyna was about to scream at the harpy when he suddenly went silent and sneered at her. From the pixie's position, she only saw him. "What do you want?! What?! You are disturbing the magistrate! Foul harpy! Flee before you anger him!"
If only to show his etiquette, Harkin stood straight and tugged his vest. In a soft voice, almost a whisper, he said, "I am announcing the presence of the Lady Enochia, you festering boil; The Lady Enochia Eversight, you offensive excrement; The Lady Enochia of Eight, you worthless bug. Now bid her entrance before I rip off your flimsy wings and use them as floss."
The alarmed little fae darted her head around the tent flap and saw the Oracle waiting patiently. With a flitter of her opaque wings, Moyna bowed her head and pulled the tent flap open wider. "Forgiveness, Lady, I beg you. The magistrate awaits your presence within."
Enochia slid silently past and into the tent. Before Harkin followed her in, he stepped close to the pixie and whispered, "Be inconsiderate to my Mistress once more and I will sing you a tune that will make you literally explode." He shouldered past the fretful Moyna and followed his Mistress in.
Devlin stood when he saw the elder Drommen enter. "Enochia, I thank you for seeing me in such timely fashion."
"Of course; how may I assist you this time?"
Enochia remained standing on the far side of his desk, so Devlin remained on his feet to match her posture. "You pleaded for time to let some scenarios play out." He sighed and looked her in the eye. "Because I have seen no remarkable differences since that grant, I am calling an end to your grace period." He'd practiced his expression of regret in a mirror.
"You realize," the elder Drommen said as she folded her hands in front of her, "that many alterations can be subtle. It is shifts in nuance that come along slowly, progressively. I do not entirely blame you for missing the signs of how situations are transpiring."
Devlin was tired of the elder's sly, condescending tongue. His patience with her was at an end. "Your stalling, for whatever trivial purpose, is no longer effective. I have been lenient and gave you the time you asked for, but you were unable or unwilling to rectify the breaches of Enigma. Your failure has forced my hand. You will tell me whatever I wish to know, or you will face the decree of the Circle, which I will enforce."
Enochia slowly nodded. "Of course, magistrate, you have my compliance. Perhaps I could save you time for your mission. In not wasting your time with what you may already be aware of, why don't you tell me what you know and I will give any other pertinent information that would aid you."
Smiling inwardly, Devlin knew he had the elder backed into a corner. She was finally aware of the power he wielded. 'Look at her fawn and scrape while trying to maintain her dignity', he thought. "I have gathered that there are possibly three humans in breach; Cora McCarthy, her daughter Kate, and most likely a man named Brody Lynch. The pixies were a font of information, as well as Verden news prints and gossip. Are there any others that you know of, elder?"
With a slight shake of her head, Enochia said, "None others that I am aware of, and Mr. Lynch was only an assumption. Assumption is not fact, so I leave it to your office to clarify that matter."
"Very well, and trust that I shall." Devlin then continued. "While waiting for your supposed scenarios to come to fruition, I also learned the whereabouts of Lynch and the McCarthy daughter. I'd watch them come and go as I sat on the Moynihan's porch, and even greeted the big man on one occasion when he stopped to speak with the old couple. In respect of your wishes, I didn't tamper with his mind in the least."
"I hoped you would have attempted that very thing," Enochia cryptically remarked.
"Alas, that time is over." Devlin placed his hands on the table and leaned forward. "I have the big man and McCarthy scouted. What I don't know is where to find Cora, the mother. I've seen mental imagery from one of the village folk of what her residence looks like, but I don't know its location. And you will give me that information."
Enochia pursed her lips. "Magistrate, when I visit the Verden, I rarely leave my havens. Being here is one of those rare occasions. I have no reason to visit humans, and therefore don't." When she saw that Devlin was about to speak, the elder quickly went on. "From my interactions with the other fae of the area, I only know that she resides on the southwest edge of the village."
Devlin studied her a moment, and then slowly sat in his chair and crossed his legs. "I cannot see past your defenses, Enochia, and so can only trust that your words are true... for your sake. I will see to the others first, and then I will correct Cora McCarthy's memory. But I will not waste more time searching for her." With a thin smile, he explained. "When I request it, you will deliver the woman to me. Failure or delay to do so will place your own mind in peril; I will gain clearance from the Circle, and you will be forced to receive a fogging of your own. After I am satisfied with the humans, and possibly yourself, then I will be speaking to those that allowed the breach."
As she dropped her head, Enochia quietly said, "There is so much you do not see. If you continue on your course, Devlin, you will be made aware, and I will be unable to prevent any of the outcomes."
"I've heard enough of your mystic's babble, elder. At this point, you should only be concerned for your own welfare. You will give me the locations of the fae involved once I take those names from the McCarthy's and Lynch." After a moment's pause, Devlin added with a malicious sneer, "Let us hope that I do not find your name in their minds, Enochia." He waited until he thought she was about to speak, and abruptly dismissed her. "That will be all for now. You are excused."
Harkin brushed Moyna out of the way with one powerful wing and opened the tent flap for his Lady with the other. Enochia strolled out with the same casual gait as when she'd entered. Once she and her harpy servant had walked far enough away, she stopped and turned to him. "Harkin, there are errands for you; one for this even
ing, and the other tomorrow morning."
"I'm at your service, Mistress. Tell me, and it will be done."
"Leave from me now, and go find a pixie named Neela. She will be near about the Lynch cottage, with orders to follow their movements from a safe distance. Bring her to me at my haven."
"I look forward to it, Mistress."
Enochia nodded absently, thinking of the magistrate. His poor mental defenses were especially weak when he was vexed; the pixie Neela was foremost on his mind, like an apple for the picking.
Brief images abruptly flashed in front of her mind's eye. To herself, the oracle murmured, "Two will fall..." She looked at her servant once more. "Then, at a later time in the morning, you will deliver a message to the one called Liadan."
