Murder Between the Worlds: A Between the Worlds Novel

by Morgan Daimler

  “How do you know about the book?” he asked, grudgingly curious and willing to play for time.

  “We knew about it 80 years ago, but thought all the copies had been destroyed then. Only recently did we learn that a copy might still exist, and that information led us here.”

  “Well you’re too late,” he said shifting the corpse slightly, “All the copies have been destroyed. I pieced what I know together from family lore and bits of material that were handed down from my grandfather. That dumb half-Elven bitch had the only copy left and she destroyed it.”

  “Did she?” the elf sounded disbelieving.

  “Yeah, burned it before I had a chance to steal it–or before you could.” He couldn’t hide his anger over the wanton destruction of something that should have been his. Was supposed to have been his.

  “Did she read it first?” the elf asked casually.

  “It doesn’t matter to me if she did or not. I needed that book. It should have been mine. My great-grandfather was the high priest of that coven and those were his teachings, his ideas. It was supposed to be mine.” He fumed.

  “Indeed.” The elf said sounding bored, “We can do nothing to replace what has been destroyed but since we seek the same goal perhaps we can aid each other in different ways.”

  “And how can you help me?” he asked not trying to hide his scorn.

  “We can aid you in completing these rituals. We may be able to lead those who seek you onto a false trail,” the elf said smiling unpleasantly.

  For the first time he stopped and considered what the strange elf was saying. He certainly wasn’t getting any help from the others, just hard orders and expectations. “And what do you get out of this?”

  The elf shrugged, his companion a silent shadow at his back, “If you succeed where your ancestor failed then we get the world back as it was before when we were allowed to do as we willed, without being controlled by weak Bright Court sycophants. If you fail we may still learn something of your methods which would be of use to us, since the book is lost. Of course we need a place here to operate out of; someplace we’d be safe from prying eyes.”

  He nodded, slowly. The idea of working with these elves was galling, but the help they offered might mean success instead of failure, and at this juncture he was feeling desperate to salvage all the effort he’d put in so far. He shifted the body again, feeling the dead weight pulling at his arms. “Nothing else? That’s all you want?”

  The elf smiled wolfishly, “If you could deliver the mixed blood girl to me, I would consider our agreement officially sealed.”

  His eyes narrowed, “That’s almost impossible. She’s always surrounded by Guards.”

  “With everything you have accomplished so far, I am certain you can find a way.” The elf said, still smiling. “And you would achieve several goals with one stroke: the girl would be removed as an obstacle from your path, you would have your revenge on her, knowing what she would suffer with me, and it would distract and mislead those who track you.”

  The killer nodded thoughtfully. They wouldn’t like it–he’d been told repeatedly to leave the girl alone, and none of them would ever agree to allying with elves for any reason. But he wouldn’t technically be hurting the mixed blood himself, and he wanted the bitch to pay for destroying the book. And it was past time he had some help in getting things done. “Yeah, “Walters said slowly, “Maybe we can work out a deal.”

  Chapter 9 - Thursday

  Allie woke up screaming and thrashing, the dream so real that at first her familiar bedroom and Jessilaen’s warm body against hers as he tried to restrain her, seemed dreamlike. She screamed hysterically, wordlessly, totally disoriented by the sudden shift to full consciousness. Only Jess calling her name over and over, his concern palpable to her empathy, finally got through to her. Like a switch being flipped without warning her body suddenly relaxed as the last of the dream’s echo left.

  She realized that she was in a tangle of blankets at the end of her bed, Jessilaen lying mostly on top of her having tried to keep her from hurting herself as she flailed in her sleep. Her door was wide open, and all four of the extra Guard on patrol had rushed in, swords drawn, as well as Brynneth and Bleidd, crowding her tiny room uncomfortably. Under normal circumstances she would have been mortified to have everyone currently in the house standing in her room while she was in such an awkward position and without a stitch of clothes on, but at the moment she didn’t care. She lay there, her heart racing, body shaking, trying to sort out actual reality from the dream.

  Jess sensed her body relaxing and eased off of her slightly, “Allie?”

  She looked at him, her eyes wide and still panicked, “Was that a dream or is this a dream?”

  Brynneth moved quickly across the small space from the door, sheathing his sword as he moved, kneeling down next to her and resting his hand on her neck. She felt his gentle healing energy flowing into her, mitigating the effects of the huge amount of adrenaline and cortisone flooding her system. She took a deeper, slower breath as he nodded, “Good, slow breaths. You are safe now.”

  “What was that?” she asked still feeling disoriented.

  The elves exchanged glances. “Have you ever had a vision before? Does the gift of Seeing run in your line?”

  Allie shook her head, “No, and never. It was like a dream but not exactly. I mean it was more real than a dream but…” she trailed off. “I felt like someone was trying to pull me or call me to them.”

  She hadn’t gotten the words out of her mouth when all the other elves moved, except Jess and Brynneth, taking up defensive positions throughout the room. Even Bleidd raised the house wards to their full extent, the magic surging up from the building’s foundation to encase the old Victorian in the strongest possible shields. Her breath caught slightly as the rush of magic in the room pressed against her, “No, not like someone trying to force me somewhere. I’m explaining this badly.”

  She struggled up out of the tangle of blankets, heedless of her nakedness, and sat at the edge of the bed, feeling dizzy. Brynneth steadied her and she felt Jess’s hand resting on her back.

  “It was like–like someone I knew, someone familiar, reaching out and I wanted to go to them, they needed help, they were scared.”

  She felt her breath speeding up and Brynneth looked up alarmed. “But I couldn’t reach them. But I saw… it was a ritual circle. That’s why I couldn’t get through, it was holding me back. And there was a person, tied down, and they were being hurt.”

  She turned and looked at Jess, who was looking at Brynneth. “I think I saw one of the murders,” she said slowly, “How is that possible?”

  All the elves looked uneasy; no one lowered any of the wards or relaxed their defensive stances. Jess answered her uncertainly, “I do not know. It sounds like a vision of some kind, but I have never seen anyone in a vision react so violently. You were sleeping peacefully and then, without warning, you convulsed and began screaming. I could not wake you.”

  She shook her head, still shivering from the after effects of whatever had just happened. “I don’t understand this. There is no human magic I know of that works this way.”

  “I have seen many things in my years in the Borderlands, but nothing like this,” Bleidd said quietly from near the door.

  “It is not like any Elven magic I know of either,” Brynneth said. “But there is someone at the outpost who knows more of such things than any of us here. Perhaps he can tell us what this is and whether it is a threat to you.”

  Allie felt her mouth go dry and turned to look at Jessilaen. “Do we have to go now?”

  “No,” he said shaking his head. “It will have to be arranged and only Zarethyn can do so. We will contact him and let him know of what has transpired here. You should rest.”

  She started to stand reflexively and he reached out for her looking concerned. Brynneth grabbed her before she could get to her feet, and she pulled back from him as well, his armor cold against her flesh. “N
o. No sleep.” She shook her head emphatically. She was certain she would not be able to sleep or get any rest again. Possibly ever.

  “Allie, you must rest.” Jess insisted, and she looked at him miserably.

  “Aliaine,” Brynneth said gently, “I can help you. I can use a minor charm to ensure that you sleep without dreaming. And if the wards are kept up that should prevent any outside influences from effecting you.”

  She looked from Brynneth, to Bleidd, and finally at Jessilaen, before capitulating. With obvious reluctance she laid back down in the bed, pulling the covers up with the depressing certainty that she would never feel warm or safe again. Brynneth touched her forehead gently and she felt her entire body relaxing; her last conscious thought was to wonder how her roommates would get back in the house with the full wards up.

  *******************************

  She slept the rest of the night dreamlessly, and despite her concerns the night before, when Jess woke her just after dawn she did feel better. The dream from the night before was still frighteningly real, more like a memory of an actual event than a dream and that worried her. But the elves seemed convinced that they could find answers about what had happened.

  Part of her was worried about how deeply involved she was getting with the Guard–not just Jessilaen but the Elven Guard in general. She worried about how in debt she was to Brynneth for the times he had healed her and to the others for protecting her. It was a really bad idea to be in debt to any being of Fairy, whether that debt was intentional or not; she wasn’t sure though if they were counting everything as part of their duty as Guards. She made a mental note as she dressed to ask Jess later. As if that wasn’t enough to worry about, she was also concerned that whatever was going on with her was distracting everyone from focusing on catching the killer before he found his next victim.

  At some point in the night Brynneth had left and Natarien had returned, so she found herself being escorted out to the Guards’ cars by him and Jessilaen with the other squad remaining at the house to continue patrolling the property.

  As she was led up to the dark green Guard vehicle she suddenly realized that she had never been inside one of the Guard cars before. The outside of the car was fairly non-descript in that way that unmarked police cruisers had, where they tried so hard not to stand out that anyone looking at it could guess it was a cop car. It was built for speed, and without any iron components it was much lighter than it looked, giving it an edge against other cars its size in acceleration. Allie had heard rumors that the Guard cars were a bitch to drive in windy weather or on ice because of the lack of weight and had always wondered if that was true; she suspected looking at the layers and layers of set spells coating the car that they probably used magic to compensate, making it a moot point.

  Jess opened the rear door for her and she slid in, curious about the interior; he and Natarien sat in the front, separated from her by a thick Plexiglas wall. Allie was familiar enough with that from riding in one of the town’s squad cars with Syndra that she didn’t even think about it. The rear seat was soft–she ran her hands over it and decided it probably was real suede. A big step up from the Ashwood police cruisers’ vinyl seats, but then, the human police didn’t have magic to waste cleaning up the inevitable messes that happened in the back of squad cars. Only elves, Allie thought as the car drove east towards the Outpost, could make police cars luxurious.

  The 20 minute drive passed in silence and Allie found herself growing more and more nervous with each passing mile. She had never been to the Elven Outpost before, nor did she entirely understand who she was going to see. What she did know was that this person must be very important indeed if it took the Guard Captain to arrange this meeting, and part of her couldn’t believe that she was in the middle of all of this. Her stomach was in knots by the time the road broke free of the trees and the Outpost came into view. This is what a medieval castle must have looked like Allie thought, overawed despite herself. The sight also brought back unpleasant memories from her childhood, things that she’d nearly forgotten in the intervening years.

  Crannuaine Outpost–known ubiquitously even among the local elves simply as the Outpost–was a huge stone building that rose 5 stories, rivaling many of the trees around it in height, and stretching nearly a thousand feet, the length of the clearing. The road curved to the right and divided; the main branch passed through a heavily armed gate, which she knew was the passage into the Fairy realm; beyond that gate was a parking lot for the tourists, although she’d never seen it, because cars were not allowed into the Fairy realm proper. People walked or rode fairy horses in the Elven lands, for the most part, because even the modified technology that allowed cars to work in the Borderlands tended to be difficult and hard to maintain in the fully magical atmosphere beyond the border. The other branch of the road ran parallel to the front of the building from right to left before disappearing into a tunnel in the stone edifice. The entire effect was grand and ancient, although the power lines running to the building and prominent satellite dish and antennae visible on one section of the roof did remind Allie that this was still at least partially mortal Earth. As far as she knew, true Fairy lacked all of the technology and other modern perks associated with Earth, although with the availability and strength of magical energy so much could be compensated for that one might never even realize it.

  The car pulled up to the main entrance, a short staircase that led up to a large double door which reminded Allie strongly of the entrance to Ashwood’s cathedral. A Guard in full armor, including helm, was standing at attention on either side of the doorway and Allie felt herself swallowing hard. Her nerves were a mess and feeling like she was about to walk into a situation that was way over her head wasn’t helping. She wanted to close her eyes and be back to her regular life, heading to work in her regular book store, hanging out with her regular friends. When the car stopped Jessilaen got out and stepped back to open her door, Well, maybe not back to my regular life entirely she thought watching him.

  Taking a deep breath she climbed out of the car and let him lead her up the stairs. Natarien drove the car on and she watched it disappear into the tunnel in the side of the building. Walking up the stairs she realized that while the stone steps were rough for traction, the rest of the stone, granite by the look, was polished smooth. It gave the walls of the building an oddly reflective look in the light. The door was massive, wooden, and with brass metal work that shone despite the exposure to the weather. As soon as she and Jess reached the landing at the top of the stairs the doors swung open and before she could second guess the wisdom of what she was doing she stepped in to Ashwood’s Elven Outpost for the first time.

  Allie had expected something fittingly archaic, but she was disappointed. Beyond the door there was a wide reception area with the sort of comfortable seating you’d expect at a doctor’s office. At the back of the room was a long counter with three windows and three waiting receptionists; behind them along the back wall she could see a cork board plastered with notices, desks with computers, and a door. In the waiting area there were several people, human tourists by the look of them, sitting in the chairs, probably waiting for passports to be cleared, and a few others that were obviously Fey waiting for various appointments. As they walked in a phone rang and one of the receptionists answered it cheerfully. This is surreal, Allie thought, it’s just like the DMV on mortal Earth.

  Jess led her to the left through a door that required a magic passcode to enter; she tried to ignore the strange looks and whispers from some of the people in the waiting room. They probably think I’ve been arrested, she thought, finding he idea oddly amusing. I think my life would be simpler if that was the case actually. The hallway stretched back as far as she could see, with doors intermittently along the right hand side. She decided that the wall on the left was probably the outer wall of the structure. They passed a dozen doors and then finally came to one that Jess opened. Allie realized that she would be hopelessly lost in this
place very soon and that thought did not help her relax. The new door opened to another large room, this one sectioned off by groups of desks in clusters, each with computers, phones and large white boards. After a moment she realized it reminded her strongly of her visit with Syndra to Ashwood’s police department; this must be the Elven Guard equivalent of a squad room then.

  In one corner a Brownie was cheerfully sweeping the hardwood floor. He didn’t look up as they entered, but Allie couldn’t help staring briefly since she’d never actually seen a Brownie before. He was a walnut brown color all over, skin, hair, and clothes, and he had a small stub nose, which she knew meant he was a Highland Brownie and would be missing his fingers and toes from the first knuckle up. There was no one else in the room.

  Jess led her back to another door, and she repressed a slightly hysterical giggle. She had no idea where they were going, but there either wasn’t a direct way to get there or he was looking for someone else first. The next room proved to be Zarethyn’s office, a cheerfully decorated, brightly lit place that was nothing at all like what she’d expected. The Guard Captain himself was sitting behind his desk filling out paperwork. He looked up as they entered and smiled.

  “Good morning, Aliaine. Is this your first visit to the Outpost?”

  Damn, of course we’re speaking Elvish, she thought, smiling pleasantly.

  “Yes, it’s an amazing place.”

  “Indeed it is. When there’s more time you will have to take the full tour,” he said and she wondered if there was an actual tour, with a tour guide, or if he was just trying to use a human colloquialism. She fought the urge to giggle again as he went on.

  “Unfortunately we have a tight schedule this morning and we’re expected in the reception hall. As you can imagine, it was very difficult to arrange this and we must adhere to the time table. I’m sure you understand.”