* * * *
Once things settled down, I had to ask, “Berto, is there any way you can fix any of this before I have to go through surgery?”
He tried to heal me, but this time nothing happened. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why, but it’s not working. When I close my eyes, I see a shining hammer and anvil, and then get the distinct feeling that the healing isn’t allowed. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Berto, it’s okay. You’ve saved my life so many times. I wonder why Crom doesn’t want you to heal me?”
There was a lot of catching up and sharing of stories over the course of the day. Once I had my new pain meds, I actually dozed a fair amount in Grammy’s wheelchair. It was more comfortable than you’d expect. Cordie had me scheduled to see my regular doctor tomorrow. I have no idea how she got me in that fast. When she updated my calendar, I couldn’t believe it had only been a week since we returned from the Grove. A lot can happen in a week.
* * * *
The doctor visit—or visits, as it turned out—ran a bit longer than expected. Cordie hadn’t mentioned that I was now basically another species when she made the appointment. I’ll give Doctor Samuels credit, he took it all in stride. We did tell him about Doctor Kingston’s request. Not only did he think it was a good idea, he wanted to collaborate. I passed him the number and felt like such the little matchmaker.
My stitches had to stay for a bit yet. The orthopedist said something about waiting for the initial swelling to go down first, but my knee surgery was scheduled for next week on Tuesday. We wouldn’t be doing full sedation since they weren’t sure how my system would react. Lucky me.
* * * *
I was sore and exhausted by the time we escaped the medical campus and got back home. Cordie went into all of the gruesome medical details over dinner.
It was a relief to finally be alone with Kat in our room. I was battered and bruised, but in the most critical sense, far from broken. She cuddled next to me in bed on my good side. “Feel that, Miss Kitty?”
“Mmmm. Feel what, Olivia?”
“Peace. Just you and me and no one’s out to get us today. I love you, Miss Kitty.”
“I love you too, Olivia. No more adventures, okay?” she demanded.
“I don’t have anything planned,” I promised her. “I think we deserve a vacation. Want to go to Vegas when I can walk again, and…you know?”
She nuzzled my ear and kissed my neck. “We definitely deserve a vacation. Vegas sounds fun,” she said, and then kissed me again. “I think something can be arranged about the you know.”
She moved the coverlet out of the way. “I’ll be gentle, I promise,” she said. She kissed her way carefully down my body, as if I were made of the most delicate spun glass. Her silken fur tickled my breasts and belly as she kissed every sensitive place.
She stroked me with delicate fingers, and found me already wet and aroused for her touch. She took me with her fingers with a gentle motion, capturing me with her mouth and tongue. She held my hips firmly and caressed me until I came.
She slid back up next to me and held me through the aftershocks. She rained little kisses on my neck and played with my nipples, keeping them teased into tight little peaks.
I kissed her, exploring her soft curves with my good hand. With a little laughing and rearranging, I was able to reach her sensitive cleft, and soon coax an orgasm from her oh-so-willing flesh.
She had just enough energy to pull a sheet over us before we drifted off in each other’s arms.
Chapter Thirty-One
Forging Day
By Saturday morning, we were all starting to get our equilibrium back. Cordie was still staying over. I felt so good, after having finally slept. The you know didn’t hurt matters at all. Kat was smiling, and I wondered if I had the same besotted look on my own face.
“Can we borrow the van tonight?” I asked Berto at breakfast.
“Sure,” he said. “Who’s going to drive it?”
“Kat. You know how to drive a van, right, Kat?”
Cordie wasn’t going to leave it at that. “What do you need the van for? You don’t have any other doctor appointments until next week.”
“Kat and I are going to the open full moon ritual. I want to go. I’m not going to strain anything, and we haven’t seen some of our friends in ages.”
Cordie was visibly biting her tongue, but all she finally said was, “I’d like to go, too. I’ve never met your friends, and I’m sure Kat could use some help getting you in and out of the van. Is this place wheelchair accessible?”
* * * *
I was quite the fashion plate for our outing. I’d cut a T-shirt down one side so I could wear it like a regular shirt on the right and just loosely tie it in place on the left, under the sling. Kat had sewn some loose pants for me with a normal right leg and a short leg with a Velcro side seam on the left. Supposedly I would move to a removable brace at some point after the knee surgery. I hoped that would make the whole getting-dressed thing less of an ordeal. At least I could wear my holy symbol. Leo gave it to me as we were getting ready to go.
“I took it to Mr. Kravitz,” said Leo. “He was happy to have a regular job from us. He said he saw the thing on the news. He was glad his work had helped save our lives, and he appreciated that we hadn’t told anyone where we’d gotten the silver ammo.”
I was surprised at how much attention we got once they’d unloaded me from the van. Apparently everyone recognized me from the news footage and Vivian’s little press conferences.
“Is it true you were hostages in a gang battle?”
“Did Vivian Davis really donate blood for you? She’s so cool. What a great woman.”
“I heard it was a group of Satanists sacrificing children in the basement.”
“Were you really dating the Cheesman Park Killer?”
I was halfway ready to turn around and go home when Ingve pushed his way through the crowd. “Olivia, you made it! Come inside with me.”
He let Cordie push the chair, while the crowd parted for him like the Red Sea before Moses. He took us to one of the back offices, adjacent to the ritual space. “Sorry, but you get your share of vultures in every group, even in our community. I’m so glad you made it. Tonight is perfect. My forge—my group—is running this month’s ritual. I want to talk about your story a little bit during the ritual, but I want to make sure that’s okay with you. I promise, it won’t go into any personal details, but your story is exactly what Crom’s message is about.”
“Ingve, I look like hell. Are you sure I’m a good example of anything?”
“You are the perfect example, in this case,” he said
“Okay then. I trust you, but I would like to ask you a question before we go out there,” I told him.
“Of course, Olivia. What would you like to know?”
“Berto tried to heal my injuries. It worked before, but this time he couldn’t. He said Crom wouldn’t let him. Do you know why? Did I do something wrong?” I had to ask.
“As to that, I may have an idea. Let me answer after the ritual, okay?”
“Sure thing, Ingve.” What else was I going to say?
* * * *
Many priests use an athame, a small ritual dagger, when casting a circle. Ingve used a good-sized silver hammer. In place of the usual altar, a steel anvil, scarred with use, sat in the center of the circle.
I felt the energy when they called the quarters and cast the circle. It was nothing like what I’d experienced the other night. I imagine that’s because I was just a participant this time and not the one holding the reins.
The folks at each of the four quarters spoke of the strength and power of their element, and then Ingve stepped forward and began to speak.
“Crom is a god of strength and honor. We believe in might for right. Some believe you need to already be strong before you’re welcome in Crom’s service. That’s not true. I remember a day, just before the Change, when a young woman was walking home, looking
about as low as a person can get and still keep moving. My first through was to be kind, and pretend not to see her, but that would have been the easier path. Crom doesn’t tell us to choose the easier path. We face our fears and doubts and forge ahead.
“I called out to her, and asked if I could help. She didn’t feel Crom could offer much help. She said she’d made bad decisions and now she was paying for them. But that’s not the way it works. We all start out as raw metal. Adversity, and how we deal with it, is what Forges us into the steel we can become. She told me at this rate she’d either end up dead or very, very, strong. Today, she and her friends are alive. The werewolf murderer that terrorized Cheesman Park is dead. Which do you think she became?”
“Forging isn’t a gentle process. Hammer and anvil meet with force to shape the steel, but what a thing of beauty you have when the Forging is complete. I think our Olivia is as fine an example as you’re likely to see of the Forging of a Soul. Her body will heal, and she will have scars, but her soul is bright and strong.”
“Crom!” he roared, and raised his hammer high. The hammer and anvil exploded with silver flames, and my necklace glowed to match.
“Crom!” I answered, holding up my hand, and the silver hammer appeared.
“Crom!” the crowd roared back in response. The rafters shook with the noise.
Had I not already been sitting in the chair, the energy would have sent me to my knees.
He waited until the gathering was quiet again. “Before we dismiss the quarters and open the circle, I leave all of you with this thought. What have you done today to make the world a better place?”
* * * *
Ingve kept an eye on us after the ritual, during the traditional mingle and chat portion of the night. It seemed like everyone wanted to come up to me and shake my hand. I had the feeling Ingve might be getting a lot of converts in the coming days. You’d think the sling and cast on his chosen poster child would have acted as a bit of a deterrent, but from the number of people who wanted to talk to me, that didn’t seem to be the case.
When things quieted down, he had us come to the back office again. “You said your friend healed you in the past, and that he was not able to do so this time. Crom wanted you to know why. He is pleased with the strength and courage you’ve shown, or He would not have leant you His hammer in battle, but you’ve taken some chances expecting a healing gift from the gods to put you back together afterwards. This is a dangerous path. Crom doesn’t expect you to be timid when you face a challenge, but He does expect you think through the consequences and accept them as the price you’ll pay. Working through these injuries and coming out stronger in the end is part of your Forging. It’s not meant as a punishment. It’s a gift.”
“You know what, Ingve? I’m kind of okay with that. I’m going to get through this, and I’m not going to take things for granted any more. This Change, and all that followed, has been my Forging Day.”
Epilogue
My surgery went well. I got the stitches out of my shoulder. I’m doing all the exercises my PT/OT gave me, as ordered. I do a lot of studying these days. I’m working on my magic and learning what I can about fantastical creatures. Magical armor is proving to be a challenge, but in the end, it’ll be worth it.
Imhotep has proven very helpful in improving my magical focus. Tessa has been teaching me how to borrow energy from a willing partner to power my spells. Practice time is educational, as well as being fulfilling in other ways.
I talked to Commander Danielson, and I’m scheduled to be a guest lecturer at Sharon’s department in the fall. I’m looking forward to it.
Mikah’s law practice got crazy busy after he was seen in the background of Vivian’s press conference. He’s still doing custody cases, but now he has a ton of civil rights cases. He’s the local lawyer of choice for the Changed with discrimination grievances. He has a bigger office now and is talking about bringing on some associates. He hired both Tessa and Kat. He’s paying for them to attend paralegal certificate programs. So far, so good. They carpool together and help each other study. If all goes well, they’ll be certified in less than a year.
Gracie and Kat still see each other off and on. She makes Kat happy. I can’t say she’s my favorite person in the world, but everyone stays polite, and so far that keeps things working. It turns out she’s a motorcycle mechanic by trade. We finally have someone that can help maintain those bikes.
Leo is back with his unit for now. He says he should be getting a short leave, maybe around Labor Day weekend. Skeeter is coming with him. I hear he and Cordie have been doing a lot of texting.
While most places have settled into a new normal, some areas are still fairly dangerous for the Changed. Until things in Wyoming settle down, Korembi and Razaini have gotten guest lecturer positions at one of the local colleges in Denver.
John and Stacy made it safely to Arizona. Henry and May are expecting too, as it turns out. They’re on their way to Oregon. I hope they’ll all be safe, wherever their travels take them.
Frank is hanging around here, working on his new thesis. Sometimes we’re just friends, and sometimes we’re more. Korembi helped him get a job at the college. He’ll be teaching a class on dinosaurs—the live kind.
Korembi was contacted by the land owner for that dig they weren’t able to do at the beginning of the summer. The owner still wants them to come and check things out. They’re supposed to pay him a visit before school starts. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Stella wasn’t the only creature out of time to live again. Frank is already planning for the additions to his thesis.
Officer Sharon Curtis got a commendation for her heroic actions in assisting in the matter of Colby Green. Lieutenant Clark is now Captain Clark, after receiving credit for the brilliant operation that resulted in no civilian casualties. The service for Officer Lukas, the fallen member of the SWAT team, was attended by thousands. People lined the route ten deep for the funeral procession.
The political star of Vivian Davis has never shone brighter. She’s predicted to win the election this fall by a landslide. Her social media profile lists her relationship status as Single and Satisfied.
There’s going to be a big conference this fall on Standards and Guidelines for the Use of Faith Healing in a Hospital Setting. Berto is going to be one of the keynote speakers. The news crew got too much footage of his heroic efforts in saving the surviving member of the SWAT team. After that went on the air, other people came forward to admit they possessed the same gifts. So far, every hospital has disavowed any previous knowledge of these healing activities taking place at their locations. The cynical side of me thinks that if they did admit they knew this was going on, they’d be drowning in lawsuits from the families of every patient that died in the hospital since the Change.
Kat and I are still together in the way that works for us. This is the longest, happiest, healthiest relationship I’ve ever been in. Sometimes we choose to take other lovers, but we always come home.
Life is never going to be exactly what it was before the Change, but we’re doing better than I ever thought possible. Yes, there are areas to avoid, but we don’t have rioting in the streets. We still have electricity and running water, and the world isn’t ruled by feral cats. Is there still some work to do? Of course there is. Isn’t there always? For now, I’m happy to be alive.
Report 13
Dark Elves
You May Be a Dark Elf If…
You are at least half as evil as your feline familiar.
Your minion has minions.
You dispatch your helpless enemy because he may be annoying later.
You can turn a career-ending political scandal into a twenty-point lead in the polls.
You make everything look good.
Next in the Crucible of Change Series
Family Values
How do you deal with challenges that can’t be solved with a well-timed exploding bluebird?
The world has settled down re
markably well in the wake of the Change that turned a full third of the Human population into Elves, Dwarves, Trolls and more. People are back at work, buses are on time, and—a good thing for Olivia Mitchell—the hospitals are learning how to care for Dark Elves. Olivia is even behaving like a responsible citizen, using her magic to help the authorities drive back the flesh-eating slime creatures and mutant coyotes emerging from the former Rocky Mountain Arsenal.
Killing slimes is easy. Unfortunately, the rest of her life is as chaotic as ever. Her relationships are up in the air. Her roommate’s parents have arrived, and are doing their level best to disrupt everyone’s lives. And on top of all that, she just might be expecting.
Who or what is behind the growing disruption at the arsenal? If Olivia doesn’t want to end up a sacrifice in a fiery ritual, she’d better figure it out.
About the Author
Noelle usually has several irons in the fire at any given time. She likes to spend her time reading, writing, crafting, running two online shops to sell her crafts, and gaming. Life took a turn for the quirky in 2000 when she had her daughter, who turned out to have autism.
As a child, her ambition was to be the first woman President of the United States. When she got older and learned more about politics, she recovered from that particular insanity.
Her teens were spent on historical romances, science fiction, fantasy, and writing angsty poetry. In middle school, she had her first introduction to tabletop gaming in the form of Advanced Dungeons & Dragons. As she explained to her dad, with all seriousness, it gave her the chance—as a terminally shy person—to try on different personalities and experiment with being a stronger person.
From the time her daughter was born until mid-2014, Noelle worked out of her home providing IT support for a small local software company. She’s finally working in an office again as an administrator, and rather likes it. It’s nice to spend the day around adults who are mostly grown-ups.
Forging Day (Crucible of Change Book 1) Page 31
