by J. A. Pitts
“Works out the same,” Stuart said, disgruntled.
“More chieftain,” Rolph said. “King would be Konungr.”
Jimmy and I looked at them for a moment, and they stopped talking, chagrined. “Continue,” Jimmy said.
So I described arriving at the burning smithy, how I saw Katie’s car, and where I found the cell. I especially impressed on him the point that the fire was pretty fierce.
“Dragon fire,” Jimmy said, nodding. He turned to look at the others. “Stuart, your buddy still work over with the Redmond Fire Department?”
He nodded. “Yeah, EMT.”
“Okay, get on the horn and see what he knows. If this story holds water,” he looked back at me, “and I assume it will, give him a clue that there could be some nontraditional flammables there, and that they may want to back off and just work on containment.”
Rolph nodded and Stuart hightailed it out of the barn.
“Show him the runes,” Rolph added from the back.
Jimmy looked at me, raising one hand toward me, giving me the stage.
“During the battle with the giants, one of them pulled a street-light out of the pavement and began swinging it around. I was holding my own, but could see a short end coming, when Ernie—that’s the nice one—clipped the power lines above the street, and managed to catch both himself and Bert with a substantial shock.”
“Lucky break,” Gunther said.
“Nay,” Rolph said. “ ’Twas Woden, calling the lightning.”
Jimmy looked over his shoulder. “Wasn’t Thor the one to call lightning?”
Rolph shrugged. “Woden is the most powerful, his powers are legion.”
They argued among themselves for a bit, Odin versus Zeus, and the traditional roles of gods and beggars. It ran on for a few minutes before I could get a word in edgewise. Luckily, they had to breathe sometime.
“Anyway,” I said.
They all turned back toward me.
“I went to check if Joe was going to be okay, and he brushed the hair out of my eyes.” I pulled my hair back, exposing the line of runes just inside my hairline.
Jimmy leaned forward, pushing my hand out of the way, and moving the hair to see each rune separately. “Did it hurt?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Like fire. But more a cleansing fire than a destructive one, you know?”
All of them nodded. It was cute, like bobbleheads.
Stuart came running back in. “They are all set,” he said, a little winded. “Deidre’s making coffee, started the calling chain.”
“What?” I asked. “Calling chain?”
“If someone has Katie, we are going to mobilize the troops,” Jimmy said. “Standard procedure. We’d do it with any one of us.”
I sat back and looked at him. He didn’t seem to be fazed by any of this.
He smiled and patted me on the leg. “Go on, Sarah. Finish your story.”
He had the strangest look in his eyes. Creeped me out. He should’ve called me a liar, or crazy, or something. But he just looked at me, with patience and . . . understanding, perhaps.
“When the fire flashed through my mind, much of the fog lifted.” I paused a moment, considering. “I’ve been a mess lately, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Since mending Gram,” Rolph added. “You were fighting the geas of the blade, ignoring the purpose for which it was originally forged.”
“I just can’t kill an investment banker from Portland, or anywhere,” I said, raising my voice. “Even with everything that’s happened, with the things I’ve seen. That is just murder.”
No one spoke for a moment, and Gunther was the first.
“Sarah, if the president of the United States can invade another country based on a suspicion, I think you can move out on probable cause here.”
“He’s right,” Rolph said, barely able to contain his glee. “You have no idea of the deprivation this beast has caused.”
“Before we send her out killing folks, I want to hear about the rest of the fight, and the significance of these runes,” Jimmy said, turning back toward me and focusing things.
I explained about the runes on my calf, and how Joe had infused me with some power. “He cried out ‘Wodiz,’ or something.” I stood and pulled up the legs of my jeans. Couldn’t get them high enough to show all the runes, but I wasn’t dropping trou with this crowd.
“Ah,” Rolph said. “Woden of the one eye has many gifts: first among them is the gift of prowess in battle. Those who are favored by the All-Father are unmatched in combat. They become an army of one, feared by friend and foe alike.”
“Berserker,” Stuart said, the awe apparent in his voice. “Great, Beauhall. I’ll never take you in sparring again.”
I laughed at that, and the mood lightened a bit.
“Okay, final bit,” Jimmy said. “I’d like to see the sword.”
I looked over at Rolph, who watched intently.
“It’s in the car,” I said, rising.
“I can get it,” Gunther said.
“NO!” Rolph bellowed.
Everyone stopped and stared at him. Gunther looked ready to fight, and Jimmy had on his I’m-the-boss face.
“It is hers to bear,” Rolph continued. “Hers to wield.”
“I’ll just go get it,” I said, jogging past everyone. “I’ll be okay.”
I left them in the barn. As soon as I was through the door, I could hear them talking excitedly.
I pulled the sword from the hatchback and slid it into the sheath over my shoulder. It fit perfectly. I had a feeling that no matter what container I put it in, it would be an excellent fit.
Deidre opened the door, carrying a tray with a large thermos of coffee and several mugs. I helped, grabbing a tray with sugar and milk, and walked with her back to the barn in silence. When we got in, the men stood around one of the workbenches, and Jimmy was pulling topo maps out of the cupboard.
“Planning a battle?” I said, walking in and setting the tray on top of a map of the Mount Si area.
“Call’s gone out,” Deidre said, pouring a mug of coffee and handing it to Jimmy. “First team should arrive in half an hour.”
I shook my head. “And what will they be doing, exactly?” I asked. “You can’t all follow me to confront this guy, and I can’t wait any longer.”
Jimmy stepped beside me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “We will prepare,” he said. “If we need to do search and rescue, or donate blood, or just offer support in a time of crisis. We’ll be here.”
I watched him, perplexed.
“May I see the sword?” he asked. I was slightly puzzled, as they had already gotten a look at the sword, but realized that Jimmy needed to see it now in a different way.
I pulled it out of the scabbard and lay it on the table beside the coffee. He leaned over, running his finger down the fuller without touching the blade. He moved his lips as he read the runes, nodding at each one.
“Turn the blade, please.”
I grabbed the pommel and turned it over. While I held it, the room shifted a bit, became clearer. Everyone looked the same, just a brighter, shinier version of themselves.
Jimmy read the back side of the blade, hesitating at the point where the reforging had obliterated the rune on each side.
Jimmy straightened, a serious and thoughtful look on his face. “Put it away, please.”
I returned the blade to its scabbard and turned to see Deidre holding a helm.
“Take this,” she said. It was typical skullcap with a nose guard. A white tree was painted on the front.
I smiled and took it from her.
“This was to be a birthday gift,” she said, smiling. “But if you must go to battle, better to protect your head.”
“Ah, Yggdrasil—the tree of worlds,” Rolph said, approvingly.
“Well,” I said with a chuckle. “Actually it’s the white tree of Minis Tirith.”
He looked confused.
“Lord of the Rings, agai
n, I’m afraid,” I said.
He rolled his eyes and turned away, asking Gunther something about ale.
“If you get into trouble, call,” Jimmy said. “If any of this is real, you will need backup.”
“She likely needs therapy,” Deidre said, pouring a cup of coffee.
“I’ll be careful,” I said. “But if he has help, or . . .”
“Thralls,” Stuart offered.
“Yes, thralls, or thugs, or three-toed sloths,” I said. “I have no idea, but I know he’s at the movie shoot in Everett and he’s not expecting to see my smiling face.”
Deidre’s cell phone rang. She spoke into it, then asked Jimmy a few questions. While they talked, I put on a pair of leather bracers and greaves we used for sparring, and considered myself as armored as I was going to get.
“Maggie and Susan are already on the phone with the police in Kent,” Deidre said, closing the phone and turning to us. “They found Elmer’s broken into, and a really big guy stabbed to death out front.”
Everyone looked at me. I shrugged. “Told you.”
“Why don’t we let the police get this banker?” she asked.
“Not possible,” Rolph spoke up. “He is too powerful. The smith must confront him herself.”
“I don’t like it,” she said. “Not one bit.”
“Like it or not, we’ll be ready,” Jimmy said.
I shook hands with everyone and when I got back to Jimmy, he held my hand a while, looking into my eyes. “When you get back, ask me why I believe you.”
I nodded. “I figured you thought I was nuts.”
“Nuts,” he said, laughing, “but not insane.” He closed his eyes briefly and then opened them and I saw a world of hurt and worry there. “Find my sister, Sarah. Find her and bring her here safe. And when you do, you can ask Katie to explain why she is so steeped in lore. Why we started all this.”
Deidre patted Jimmy on the arm, and walked over to Rolph, Stuart, and Gunther. “Come on, boys. Let’s get a bonfire going out back, what do you say?”
Gunther and Stuart groaned, but Rolph looked happy.
“Just means more toting for us,” Gunther said, pulling Rolph along with him. “You can help stack the posts.”
“About Rolph,” I said.
“Your friend will be safe here,” Jimmy said, picking up his coffee cup. “He’s not the first of Durin’s folk we’ve had sleep in our barn as dawn approached.”
I shook my head. Maybe I wasn’t crazy. Maybe the whole world was crazy. There were just too damned many mysteries. I’d be pressing him for answers when this all settled down, you can bet your bottom dollar.
But it would have to wait. I needed to get out to Carl’s.
Forty-six
THIS TIME, WHEN I GOT OUT OF THE CAR, I WAS DRESSED LIKE something from a medieval shoot. I pulled the hammers out of the back and set them in their holsters. I slipped the shoulder mount over my head and slid Gram into the sheath, then shut the hatchback with a solid thump.
When I walked to the door, the rent-a-cop glanced at me and did a double take.
“You can’t go in there,” he said, lunging forward to grab me. I swung around and clipped him on the back of the head with my forearm. He staggered past me into the shrubbery.
I slammed the door open and jogged down the short hall to the interior doors. Once there, I pulled Gram from the sheath and kicked the bar, sending the door flying backward with a bang.
They were in the middle of a shoot. Now, I’d read the script, even gave Carl some suggestions on combat sequences, but I did not remember, at any point, JJ leaning over a gorgeous blonde, pouring wine over her bare breasts.
“What the hell?” I said to no one. I scanned the room. Despite my explosive entrance, much of the crew remained fixated on JJ and the blonde.
I strode across toward camera two, where I’d spotted Carl and Frederick.
“Hey, you,” I growled as I approached them. “I want a word with you.”
Carl and Frederick turned at the same time. Carl’s face slid from concentrated amusement to open shock. He glanced from my face to the sword and stepped between me and Frederick.
“Nice try, Carl,” I said, shoving him aside.
Clyde, who ran camera two, jumped off his seat and scampered across the stage toward JJ. The crew turned toward me as I stepped within striking distance of Frederick.
“Ms. Beauhall,” he said, his voice silky smooth. “Going to a costume ball?”
The urge to smash the pommel of the sword into his pretty, smiling face rose in me like a carpet of red ants. I lunged forward, and turned the blade at the last moment. Instead of hitting him in the face, I locked my right forearm against his throat, with the tip of Gram just under his left ear.
His hands were in his jacket pocket and he made no move to defend himself.
I stared into his eyes, fury filling up the hollow spots inside me. “Where is she?” I hissed through gritted teeth.
He smiled, amused. “Breath mint, dear?” he asked, pulling a half roll of mints from his jacket. The paper trailed off the end, white and silver.
“Sarah,” Carl shouted behind me. “What the hell are you doing?”
“He burned down the smithy,” I said, my voice shaking with rage. “He took Katie and Julie.”
“Crazy’s back,” JJ yelled from the stage. “Where’s security?”
Jennifer approached from Frederick’s left, her hands in the air. “Sarah, he’s been here all night.”
“She speaks the truth,” Frederick said.
The calmer he was, the angrier I got. This time, I recognized the feeling, understood the source. The berserker frothed beneath my skin. I loosened my grip on the sword a micron, letting my hand relax instead of throbbing.
“You’re lying,” I said. “Only dragon fire burns that way.”
Of course, I had no idea what the hell I was talking about. How good was Rolph’s word? I’d known Jennifer and Carl much, much longer.
Still . . .
“Why would you offer to buy the sword?” I asked. “Give me your share in Flight Test, and then send goons after me? Why’d you burn down the smithy?” I drew a breath, giving him a chance he did not take. “Were you angry that you couldn’t have what you wanted?” I continued. “Found the swords weren’t in the safe, so you torched the place?”
I leaned in, breathing into his face. “You are a coward, Frederick Sawyer. Afraid to fight your own battles.”
He snapped his teeth at me, fire flashing in his eyes. “Careful, little smith. I might lose my patience with you and your silly games.”
“Excuse me, sir,” Mr. Philips said from behind me. “I hate to interrupt.”
Frederick tilted his head a little to the left, looking past my shoulder. “I’m a bit tied up at the moment, Mr. Philips.”
“Yes, sir. I’m very sorry, sir,” he said.
God, the man had control.
“It’s just . . . well . . .” He stepped around to my left, well out of reach, and held up a cell phone. “I’m afraid this call is for Ms. Beauhall.”
“Nice try,” I said, letting the tip of the sword press into Sawyer’s skin, drawing the tiniest bead of blood.
“Put it on speaker,” Frederick growled.
One of the grips ran up, dragging a cord across the floor. He handed it to Mr. Philips, who inserted it into the cell phone and said, “Go ahead.”
No sound came through the phone.
“No more games,” I said. I could feel my pulse throbbing in my temples. I was close to losing it. “Just give her back to me, and I’ll let you live.”
“Oh, my,” a man’s voice sighed all silky and sweet out of the speakers.
I jerked my head toward the phone. What the hell?
“Frederick, dear cousin. I guess the events of this little drama are approaching the climax.”
“Jean-Paul?” Frederick asked, his face losing some of the humor and control.
Laughter rang from the spea
kers. All around the movie shoot, people cowered, stepping into shadow or behind sets.
“While you dabbled in the movies, and philanthropy, I got to the heart of the matter,” Jean-Paul said. There was a moment of shuffling, and the sound of crying, and a sharp smack, followed by a yelp of pain. “Talk to your lover, insect,” Jean-Paul’s voice said in the distance.
“Sarah? Oh my God, Sarah, are you there?” Katie’s voice echoed throughout the stage.
Sawyer stared into my eyes, and I knew he told the truth.
I stepped away, lowered the sword, and watched his face. The blood from the cut in his neck had trickled down to stain the collar of his shirt. He bowed his head and I turned, facing Mr. Philips.
“Katie, are you okay?” I asked, reaching for the phone.
“Julie’s hurt,” she said. “This bastard said he was going to kill her. Sarah, he wants the sword.”
I sank to the floor, placing Gram on the ground in front of my knees. “Is he a dragon?” I asked. “Did he burn the smithy?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice angry, but frightened. “He hurt us, Sarah.” Her voice dropped, filled with shame. “He’s . . . he’s beyond evil.”
He hit her; the meaty smack sounded clearly over the speakers. She moaned as Jean-Paul took over the conversation.
“I’ll kill you,” I said. “Mark my words.”
“Yes, the little girl playing at smithing and movies. You are more pathetic than Frederick, and I had no idea that was possible.”
Mr. Philips pulled the cord from the phone and the laughter died. Several of the crew were crying around the edges of the sets, and Frederick took the phone.
I watched him, afraid to stand. If I moved, I would lose control. Already the berserker in me clawed at the inside of my brain, calling me to kill, maim, destroy.
I took a long, shuddering breath, searching for calm. I could not succumb to that instinct.
“So, Jean-Paul,” Frederick said in his sweet voice. “Tired of feeding hookers to pigs, time to move up and snatch schoolteachers?” Of course he knew all about Katie. He knew all about me.
So the goons were from this Jean-Paul guy. The fire, and the threats. And Sawyer, dragon himself, had only invested in a place I worked.
