by Luna Lindsey
And use him for my bread
All because my merry name
could be Orvenoldsted
The child is soft
The cat is moist
And atop all this, their heads
A sandwich fit for a Northland king.
‘Tis I, Orvenoldsted.
I feared the devil
He lived inside
But now I’ve set him free
Orvenoldsted is my name
Orvenoldsted he is me
I will take six rocks
I will take twelve stone
To pile them one by one
To build a—
From far away he heard a voice calling his name. His true name.
But when he looked around, no one was there.
CHAPTER 30
*
JINA CARRIED THE BOXES DOWN the hall to an unfinished area of the basement. She sneezed, dusted off her hands, and went back for another one.
The cell was large enough to hold a person. Iron bars were hidden inside three of the walls, the floor and ceiling, while the barred door faced a small entry way. Hollis built it in the Dungeon over a year ago, and left unused, it had filled with boxes of extra equipment and supplies, relics, and books.
If they caught a faeborn, this is where they would put him.
The way things were going, they were going to catch the wrong one. Where had Sandy been when Jina had Pogswoth cornered? Hollis had shown up, but too late. If they had organized, planned for it, Pogswoth would already be in here. Or dead.
For the past three days, Jina had avoided thinking about their fight. The shards of broken glass still lay on the floor of her room because she’d avoided being anywhere near the house except when she had to be. There was no excuse for Sandy’s behavior, and she hadn’t even apologized.
Jett had the guts to stand up to Pogswoth. Jett was twice the leader Sandy was. Had Jett been there, Pogswoth would be a bug-smear on the floor of that park.
Jina imagined putting Jett in there. She imagined hunting down her girlfriend, stuffing her in a burning iron cage, wrapping her in binding spells, and dumping her here to await her fate at Sandy’s unpredictable whim.
These thoughts caused Jina heartache. While she remained wary of Jett, uncertain as to her intentions, the elf did not belong in a dungeon cell.
At the other extreme, she delighted in picturing Pogswoth here, humbled, defeated, and captured. The world safe at last.
In the middle sat Ezra. The unknown. Did he belong here? She’d never met him, but in her mind he sat glumly on this floor, his hands gently folded, with a worried frown on his face.
It still wasn’t too late to stop this before crossing any lines, before hurting an innocent kid. What would Jett think if she knew?
Worse, what would Sandy do if she knew about Jett?
For the first time, Jina actually felt afraid of Sandy, as if she could hurt her in a very real way.
“Jina, I’m ready!” Sandy called. Jina set down the box and joined Sandy in the lab.
“Do you have to use Haun’s mirror?” Jina asked. “Any reflective surface will work.”
For now, the mirror reflected a scene of clean white tiles, disorganized desks, and a table overflowing with lab equipment. The silver frame was mounted on an off-white vanity, very pretty, but Jina tensed as she looked at her own face within. It had come from Haun’s house, an inherited artifact he willed to Sandy along with all of his other possessions. Sandy had been smart to sell nearly everything else. Now this cursed thing constantly lurked in the corner of the Dungeon.
“It’s a magic mirror,” Sandy replied with a tone of certainty. “I believe in it, which makes it work better, right?”
“I suppose. I still don’t understand why you keep this thing.”
Sandy got a far-away look and ran her fingers along the frame almost tenderly, then jerked back as if burned. “It’s fine,” she replied. “The only reason I saw him is because you wouldn’t write me a new spell.”
“You can hardly blame me for that,” Jina said. Sandy had barged on ahead, unwilling to wait for a new spell. She’d used the old spell, replacing Haun’s true name with Ezra’s given name. But the spell still referenced ‘a face of blue’. Sandy had only met one blue person, so her subconscious brought him up anyway.
Sandy relaxed. “I’m sorry. Let’s focus on now. Like how do we find Ezra without dialing Haun by mistake?”
“Without a true name or personal item, there’s no reason it will work. I’ve tried.”
“It did work. That’s how I saw Ezra. Right after I chased Haun away.”
“No,” Jina said. “Haun did that. He connected you to Ezra. He sort of… transferred the call.”
“Him again. He wants to take credit for all my hard work.” Sandy waved her hand at the lab. Oddly, there was no glass of Scotch in that hand. “He wants me to think I can’t do any of this without him.”
This was a new turn for Sandy’s paranoia. At least she was pointing it at Haun. “That’s a jump,” she said.
“Not really.” Sandy’s gaze fell upon her own reflection in the mirror, which made her look as though she were staring into the distance. “He… bragged about how much he’s helped me… You know how well my investments do? Every year, I make at least fifty-percent. It’s enough for me to live on interest, to support our work, even with our high expenditures. He claims that’s his alimony.”
Jina glowered. “He’s manipulating you. Don’t give him the power. Even if he is helping you, so what? If you don’t let it get to you, we can use it against him.”
Sandy met Jina’s eye, through the mirror. She was angry. Jina couldn’t tell at whom.
“He wants to divert your anger away from him,” Jina ventured. “You should aim that anger where it belongs, not at Ezra. Scarf tried to blind Trey, and froze his hands. If we work as a team, we can get him.”
“Will you just let it go?” Sandy suddenly stood and loomed over Jina.
Jina flinched.
Sandy sat down hard, putting her hand against her forehead. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for all of it. And I shouldn’t have thrown anything at you. I cleaned up the glass yesterday. Maybe you didn’t see. You haven’t been home, so… And I get that. You should feel safe here. I wanted to make a safe house, and… I failed.”
She wrung her hands together. Jina didn’t know what to say. Her eyes stung with hidden tears.
“You’re right,” Sandy continued. “I’m actually angry at Haun, but I’ve been taking it out on you, on myself. It’s just, really hard. I don’t want to push you away.”
“Of course… It’s hard. I…” She didn’t want to say it was okay, because it wasn’t. “Thank you for telling me this.”
“I’m sober,” Sandy said.
Jina dared to hope. “So you called that number and found a meeting?”
Sandy looked back at the mirror. “I don’t need those things. I haven’t had a drop since just after we talked. Three days.”
It was a start. Jina had been disappointed so many times before, with her mother, and recently with Sandy. Still, she let a little smile show. The least she could do was give Sandy a chance.
“Scarf is dangerous,” Sandy admitted. “But so is Ezra. He was digging in the woods. Isn’t that suspicious? If you see him, you’ll understand. If you’re still not convinced, maybe we could start with this Pogswoth.”
“Okay.” Jina could take a look. Maybe Sandy knew something she didn’t. Jina focused her effort on getting the spell working. She scribbled some lines in a new notebook to the sound of Hollis’s welding coming from the next room. If she included some details, like the fact that he was a troll, and that he lived in the woods, maybe they wouldn’t need his name.
Gretel came running down the stairs. “Sorry for being late,” she panted. “Have I missed anything?”
“Nope. Jina is just finishing the spell.” Sandy’s voice sounded easy, almost happy.
Jina set down
the pencil. She wheeled her chair closer to the mirror.
“No, I want to do it,” Sandy said. “I’ve seen him before. It will increase the chances.”
Jina handed Sandy the notebook. Gretel opened the valve on the glamour generator, and Sandy read the rhyme.
Nothing happened.
“I knew it wouldn’t work,” Jina said.
“It’s that kind of thinking that will make it fail,” Sandy said. “Gretel, we need more glamour.”
“No, you’re just wasting it,” Jina said. “The glamour can’t find him without his name.”
“Would something like this work?” Gretel asked. She lifted a single strand of hair pressed between her fingers, offering it up.
Sandy took it reverently. “It’s his, isn’t it? Where did you get it?”
Gretel looked pleased with herself. “I found it in the backseat of your car. I thought it might come in handy.”
“This will work,” Jina said.
Sandy’s spirits lifted. “So how do we use it?”
Jina wheeled over to another desk and pulled a roll of tape from a drawer, then back to the mirror. “This,” she said, taping it to the mirror. “Try it.”
Sandy began the rhyme over again. An image slowly formed, first in darkness, then vague images of bricks, then mist rising out of a grate, then a dirty concrete wall with an illegible signature in spray paint, then a pile of trash bags. Other than that, the alley was empty.
“It’s working!” Gretel whispered. “But where is he?”
The dumpster lid burst open and a monster jumped out. Gretel flinched, though it was just an image.
He wore horns, a torn coat, and a huge grin. His features were exaggerated and partially hidden by shaggy hair. Jina shivered, reminded of Haun. The creature was muttering to himself between impossibly large mouthfuls of trash.
“He’s alone!” Sandy squealed. “We don’t have to get him away from that cult!”
“They must have kicked him out,” Gretel said. “And no wonder. He’s raving.”
“Listen to that,” Sandy said.
Jina listened very closely. He looked scary, but she couldn’t judge on that alone. She couldn’t hear very well, but the troll was saying something about how nothing was right or wrong. He spoke of angels and devils, of churches and midden heaps.
And something about a cat.
As he dug through the dumpsters and in between bites of boxes and packing material, his words grew more repetitive and started to form a pattern. They started to rhyme, as he very distinctly expressed his desire to make a sandwich out of pets and children.
It didn’t seem the sort of thing a sane, seelie faerie might choose to sing about. When he sang of setting the devil free within himself, a chill ran up Jina’s neck.
Jina had written a lot of violent lyrics. While words were a different thing than actions, coming from a repulsive monster around mouthfuls of Styrofoam, they made this kid seem pretty unstable. A human in this condition might be dangerous, and that didn’t account for his size, strength, or any magical powers this troll might have. If he hurt someone, even on accident, it would be bad.
“He’s saying a strange word, Gretel,” Sandy asked. “Is that German?”
“Nein,” Gretel replied.
“He’s repeating it. Orfenholdsted?”
“Orvenoldsted.”
Gretel’s accent made it sound close to what the troll was saying. The image on the mirror brightened and became more focused.
Sandy tried repeating it with the accent. “Orvenoldsted. What does that mean, Orvenoldsted?”
Suddenly, Ezra stopped speaking and looked up directly into Sandy’s eyes. She gasped, and Jina started to mutter an emergency chant to break the connection.
She stopped when he glanced from side to side. “Hello?” he called, looking every which way. “Who’s there? Who said my name?”
Sandy hissed. “It’s his name. We said it three times and he heard us!”
A slow smile spread on Gretel’s face. “Now we have full power over him.”
“Shhh, maybe he can still hear us.” Sandy rolled herself away from the mirror, pulling Jina and Gretel to one side.
Ezra just hunched his shoulders inward, and he sat, looking at his hands with a worried expression.
Sandy grabbed Jina’s arm. “His name. That opens up so many possibilities! We have full power over him. We can get him off the streets, save everyone in his path!”
After witnessing that scene, it was hard to see Ezra as some innocent, bible-hugging teenage boy. It seemed Sandy was right after all, even though Jina did not want it to be true.
“Don’t you see now?” Sandy continued. “This is what I’ve been saying all along. There are no good faeries. Only deceptive ones. They’re all dangerous if left to their own long enough.”
Well obviously not every faerie. There was Jett… Would Sandy turn out to be right about her as well?
“We’ve got to plan,” Sandy said, pulling out a notebook.
In the mirror, the figure of Ezra sat somberly, playing with a little hemp charm bracelet.
“That thing on his wrist.” Gretel pointed. “It is glamour. See how it glows? No, you don’t, I forget.”
“Okay,” Sandy said. “We’ll take it away as soon as we nab him. We’ll need to rush on preparing for this. Hollis. Hollis!”
A welding-masked-face peered out of the hallway like a robot.
“Hollis, we’re going to need the van. And I need you to finish cleaning the boxes out of the cell. Looks like we finally get to use it!”
A muffled “Yeah!” came from inside the robot-face before it disappeared again.
“And Gretel. Go grab the stack of books on the right-hand corner of my desk.” Gretel nodded, and vanished up the stairs.
Sandy smiled and sat back in the chair, a satisfied look on her face. “Thank you Jina. I couldn’t have done this without your help. Not just with the spell. Since I’ve stopped drinking, things are just coming together. Clarity, right? It took you long enough to get through to me.”
“It did,” Jina said. “And you may be right about Ezra. What are you planning? Something still doesn’t seem right about killing him.”
And yet, they couldn’t keep him prisoner, either. There was no way they could imprison every wicked faerie they came across.
“I’ve been looking into a humane option,” Sandy said. “It requires a true name, and we have that now. It’s all just theoretical at this point, but we can at least try. First, we have to have him in hand.”
This was the kind of leader Jina had been hoping for. Sandy was finally coming around. She had just needed some time to come to grips with her fears… with the reality of facing dangerous fae.
“Just let me know what you need me to do.”
“I will, once my plans are solidified. For now, maybe we could just talk. Like we did last week over takeout.”
Jina thought about all the things she’d love to tell Sandy. Especially about her new girlfriend. But she couldn’t talk about Jett. It was certainly not something Sandy could handle, even now that she was sober. Maybe she’d find the right words in a few weeks… Maybe by then she’d be convinced herself that Jett was safe.
“How are things going with Trey?” Sandy asked. “Aren’t you dating some girl?”
“Trey is working out pretty well as a friend. There are so few people I can talk faerie stuff with. “
“Is he going to join the Ordo?”
Jina shook her head. “He’s a bit nervous about the idea. But maybe someday.”
“Too bad. We always need more help.”
As far as Jina was concerned, they had plenty of help. They just needed to act more often, and more wisely.
“What else is going on?” Sandy asked.
“I played an amazing show Saturday. I have a date tonight with my new girlfriend, Jett. Stuff like that. How about you?” she asked. “You been up to anything lately?”
“I found a doppe
lgänger last week,” she said, nonchalantly.
Jina wasn’t sure what a doppelgänger was, but it didn’t sound like a good thing. She frowned at the calm in Sandy’s voice. It denoted not serenity, but a cloud of denial over a deep ocean of fear and pain.
“A what?”
Sandy shrugged. “You know, like a fetch, a ghostly fae who imprints on a human, copies them.”
“Holy crap, Sandy! Did it imprint you?”
Sandy shrugged again. “No idea. It got away, though. Slipped right out of the trap, just like that. It wasn’t a big deal.”
Jina knew this mood. Sandy tried so hard to distance herself from painful events. And now she was trying to do it without alcohol. If anything, this made her more dangerous, more volatile.
Jina sighed.
“Anyway,” Sandy continued. “I’m trying to turn over a new leaf. I should be a better friend. Feel free to talk to me about anything you want. Anytime you want. Just drop by my office. Now I’d better go see if Gretel found those books. I’m so excited!” Sandy squeezed Jina’s hand and then bounded from the room.
Jina nodded. She should be happy. Sandy was trying. There were a lot of bright sides to look on. Yet somehow she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that all of this, the plan, the hunt, the new leaf, the girlfriend, that all of it was a precarious sandcastle waiting for the tide.
CHAPTER 31
*
JETT COULD NOT EAT the last bite of baklava. It was too rich.
“I forgot how much I love Indian food.” Jina sighed and sipped at her chai.
Jett smiled. Jina seemed to be loosening up a little. She had started this date really tense. They’d still kissed when they met up in front of the restaurant, but she seemed distracted, reserved, like she was protecting herself from something.
“Baklava is not technically Indian,” Jett said.
“Have you been to India?”
“A lifetime ago,” Jett said.
“I’ll bet,” Jina said, suddenly tense again. Her chaotic blas na haislinge flowed every which way tonight. Her dreamer seemed to relax most when speaking of the mundane things they had in common, but even that pattern was not predictable.
“Why travel to India when Cedars, the best Indian food in the world, is only three blocks away from my house?”
