Black Blade Blues

by J. A. Pitts

  She looked at me a moment and smiled. “Good plan,” she said, leaning into the truck and kissing me.

  Totally worth it.

  Seventy-two

  I DROVE UP TO EVERETT. THE ONLY BANDAGES LEFT WERE THE ones on my wrist, where the bone had shown through at one point. Not a bad deal.

  My grip in my right hand was still pretty weak, but I’d get back most of it. Just hard work. The doctors suggested guitar, piano, and knitting. I’d do the exercises and figure something out.

  I pulled into the little Mexican place Jennifer preferred and saw her sedan. I parked around the side, where the truck could not be seen from the street, and got out. My reflection didn’t suck. My hair was about two inches long—not bad, considering.

  I grabbed the envelopes from the dash, climbed out, and closed the door. Jennifer would be very interested in the two agreements I was bringing her. Something I bet they had not been aware of.

  The waitress showed me to a booth out on the deck. Jennifer sat in the sun, her shades hiding her eyes.

  “Hi,” I said, scanning her face. Not a fair conversation there, keeping her eyes covered in mirrors. “I’m sorry, but with all that has gone on, could we sit inside, where we aren’t in the direct sun?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, standing quickly. “I didn’t think . . . what a moron . . . I’m so . . . ,” she stammered, and nearly fell over her chair trying to rise.

  I reached out and grabbed her shoulder with my left hand. “It’s okay,” I said.

  She took off her glasses and looked at me sheepishly. “You look pretty good, all things considering.”

  The waitress took us back inside and gave us a small table near the window. Soon we had chips and salsa, as well as a pitcher of water. My kind of service.

  “How are you?” Jennifer asked as I crunched into a chip.

  I held up my right arm. “Recovering well enough.”

  She watched me, unsure of how to proceed. “How come you didn’t tell me there was another shoot?”

  There it was. It didn’t take us long to get right down to it. She was out of the loop. Only, there was no loop. Not before Nidhogg.

  I shrugged. “Long story.”

  “I see,” she said, bringing her water glass to her lips.

  “These will add to the mystery,” I said, laying the papers on the table for her. “Not only was he dealing a second movie on the side”—I hated perpetuating the lie—”he was also trying to sell a greater share of the business than he owned.”

  She looked through the papers, her brow furrowing. “For a sword?” she asked. “The black one we used in Elvis Versus the Goblins?”

  I nodded.

  “What a bizarre little man.”

  “Bizarre?”

  Her eyes narrowed and she leaned forward. “Looks fair, feels foul.”

  I laughed. She was such a movie nerd.

  She wasn’t mad at me. She didn’t like Sawyer.

  And that was it.

  I had chicken flautas and she had pollo de crème. It was lovely. We chatted about the movie, Carl, and how JJ was being so pissy about all of it.

  “Frederick has him convinced he’s the next Matt Damon,” she said, scooping up refried beans with a tortilla chip. “Honestly. The man is insufferable.”

  “What about the bimbette?” I said, holding my hands in front of my breasts like cupping watermelons.

  Jennifer giggled. “Carl believes Frederick when he tells him the movie will sell twenty percent better with enough breast shots, but . . .” She leaned over her dish and whispered. “I told him he could see my breasts if it helped.”

  “Oh my God! You did not.” I loved this woman.

  She blushed, but did not lose the smile. “You should’ve seen him. Like a kid on Christmas morning.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “TMI, but, you know . . . did you?”

  She shrugged. “We made out a little, but that’s it . . . so far.”

  I could tell she had this thing under control. “Good for you.”

  She was quite pleased with herself. “But, this movie thing, the sex scenes and all . . . He’s ashamed to tell his parents.”

  I laughed. “He’s how old?”

  “Thirty-three,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Yes, I know.”

  “Besides embarrassing his mother, what does he think about the intrusion?”

  She grew serious. “Frederick flusters him. Keeps him off balance.”

  Not a surprise. I’d hate to have his attention directed at me ever again. “I’m sure JJ likes the whole sex aspect of everything.”

  “Between you and me,” she said, shaking her head, “Juanita, one of JJ’s girls, disappeared several weeks ago. He’s been despondent.”

  That made no sense. “He was just using her for sex,” I said. “She wanted to get married so she could get her green card and he wasn’t interested.”

  “Well, Babs told me she ran off with Rolph.”

  I choked, spitting water down the front of me.

  Hope no one recognized the truck in the lot. “Thought he died in the fire,” I said.

  She shrugged. “No idea. Wasn’t listed in the papers and the insurance guy was pretty thorough. By the way, local union is pissed Frederick hired folks from Vancouver for the shoot. Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

  As I watched her, the unease and concern on her face, I realized I had no interest in keeping the dragon’s lies. I liked her too much for that.

  “Jennifer . . .” I took a deep breath, steeling myself. “I can’t play this game. Not with you.”

  She looked even more confused, but didn’t say anything, letting me get it out.

  “There was no movie shoot,” I said. “You know what happened in part. That bastard Duchamp had snatched Julie and Katie.”

  “Yes, I remember,” she said, watching my face. “I was going to get around to that mess.”

  So, I told her the whole story. I didn’t have anything to lose. Either she believed me, or she wrote me off as crazy.

  In the end, it was a little of both. But, I’m not sure I could blame her.

  “I heard that phone call,” she said. “Everyone there heard it. That’s the part that makes all this”—she waved her hand around the room—”movie shoot thing fall apart.”

  “People believe what they are told, for the most part,” I said, echoing Katie. “If the explanation is more reasonable than the truth, we accept it.”

  “That’s what we are all about, the illusion of life,” she said.

  That was the connection. The dragons lived with illusion. Qindra countered it at the battle. And here, the movies were all about illusion and glamour. No wonder Frederick was drawn to it.

  More grist for the mill. Katie would have an insight, I’m sure.

  The rest of lunch was delightful.

  As we walked out, we paused at Jennifer’s car. She hugged me with warmth, not like those fake hugs strangers give. It was pleasant, friendly.

  “You know,” she said as she unlocked her car, not looking at me, “we did say a few weeks.”

  “What?”

  “Your vacation and all,” she said, turning her head to the side to see me. “You could come back to work when you are ready.”

  And there you have it, folks. Honest to goodness joy. It just burst all over me like an . . . well, like a warm sudsy bath, actually, which is what I wanted after weeks of hospital sponge baths.

  I hugged her again. “I’ll come back next week, if that’s okay?”

  “Absolutely,” she said. “Carl will be very pleased.”

  I grinned at her. “And we want Carl pleased.”

  She laughed. “I have most of that covered.” She patted my arm. “You just come back to us. You’re family.”

  “What about Sawyer?”

  She looked at me, waving the envelopes in her hand. “Our lawyers will be talking to his lawyers. I’m sure conversations of breach of contract and unethical business transactions will ke
ep him tangled up for a while.”

  I smiled. “Man, you can be a stone-cold bitch, when you want to be.”

  “Glad you approve.”

  We laughed and hugged again before she walked to her car.

  I stood on the sidewalk there, watching her pull out of the parking lot. She waved at the last minute, and I waved back. Though I have walked through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for I have people who love me. I skipped back to the truck. Next stop, home and dead houseplants.

  Seventy-three

  WHEN I GOT BACK TO MY PLACE, I FOUND SOMEONE HAD BEEN busy. All my houseplants were alive and there were three goldfish in the tank. I distinctly remembered one dying before this mess all happened, so one was a miracle. Or Katie had gone to the pet store for me.

  I opened the fridge to find it stocked with good food, veggies, milk, cheese, my favorite diet soda, and three bottles of mead. Lovely.

  I turned on the stereo, loudly, and began undressing as I walked to the bathroom. I’d pick up the clothes later. Besides, I might need the trail to find my way back to the kitchen later.

  The bath was heavenly. I’d passed over the cassia bath beads—not in the mood for cinnamon—and opted for the grapefruit. I wanted something reviving and clear. I stepped into the hot water while Jethro Tull rocked the living room. Once the bubbles were up to my chin, I closed my eyes and just soaked.

  After an hour, I showered and dressed in the pink sweats. I switched the music to Pink Floyd and poured myself a glass of mead.

  I sat on the couch with my laptop and began taking notes.

  I started with dragons and cities, then put in names: Qindra, Rolph, Katie, Mr. Philips.

  Somewhere there was a greater pattern.

  My phone rang. I set the laptop on the couch and trundled to the kitchen to grab my cell off the counter. I almost didn’t answer it, since it was a blocked call, but I was feeling good for the first time in a long time, so I risked it.

  “Smith?” the deep male voice said.

  I sat down, right in the middle of the floor, my legs just giving up the fight. “Rolph?”

  “You have done well,” he said. “I owe you an apology.”

  My heart was pounding. “I thought you were dead.”

  He chuckled. “I nearly was. If it weren’t for the fair Juanita, I would be.”

  Wait . . . Juanita? “Someone told me you left with her, but I didn’t see how.”

  “It was Babs,” he said. “Juanita overheard her. She was working for the dragon Duchamp.”

  “That was how he knew to call the set,” I said. “How he knew about Frederick and things.”

  “Yes, many things were known to him. I am ashamed,” he admitted. His voice trembled—shame, sorrow, fatigue, I couldn’t tell.

  “Where are you now?” I asked. “I have your truck.”

  “That is one reason I have called. I need the truck, and some things from my place, if I could impose upon your kindness.”

  “Well, you did try to kill me,” I said.

  “Wound,” he said. “I could not let you give him the sword. It would give them more power than they already wield.”

  “I forgive you,” I said, meaning it. “After facing him, seeing what he was, I understand your anger and drive.”

  “It is a shame you were exposed to this. I meant it when I said you are a talented smith.”

  “Rolph, you are a master. Julie says so. I can tell it by your knowledge, the little details about smithing.”

  He barked a bitter, mournful laugh. “I was once, yes,” he said. “But something I had in addition to decades at the forge was hubris.”

  I was lost. “Hubris?”

  “Have you not discerned the truth yet?” he asked. “The smith who reforged Gram and failed was cursed. Frederick came to my village demanding sacrifices and treasure. Against the wishes of my father, I attempted to reforge the sword, to hope to slay the beast.”

  I didn’t interrupt. I knew too many details.

  “So, I failed in the mending. I was not pure enough,” he said, his voice trailing to a whisper. “He laughed at me when I confronted him,” he said. “The sword did not sing to me, did not call forth the blood and fire.”

  He fell silent. After a minute, I thought I could hear him crying.

  “He took my sister and my mother, then,” he continued. “Blinded my father and left me unharmed.”

  “Oh, Rolph. I’m so sorry.” How many years had he lived with his failure? How many decades, centuries of self-loathing.

  “I lost track of the sword after he raided my home. Someone from the village must have spirited it away. I have searched for it ever since.

  “So you see, fair smith. The gift you gave me, allowing me to see the sword reforged. That I will always carry in my heart.”

  I couldn’t help it. I was crying. Bastards. All of them. “Okay, Rolph. I’ll get you your stuff.”

  “I am in your debt, Smith Beauhall. Today and forever.”

  We talked for another twenty minutes. In the end, he wanted several cases of heirlooms and some personal effects, along with his banking information, passport, and a few photos and such.

  And he wanted to see the sword again. Not to keep it, but to see how it had survived after the battle. Legend had it Odin shattered it after Fafnir was slain.

  I was to meet him in Surrey, British Columbia, in three weeks. He said he’d e-mail me details for the meet. This would give him enough time to work out a few loose ends, and allow time for me to get to his place before the rent was due.

  In the meantime, I had to get the word out that Babs was a mole. Jennifer would take care of things, I was fairly sure. If nothing else, let Babs know we knew, so Frederick didn’t kill her. I can’t imagine she was getting much out of the deal. Nothing worth dying over. Stupid woman.

  I finished the mead and took a few more notes before deciding I needed to sleep.

  My bed felt wonderful after the hospital. I slid into clean sheets and a toasty warm comforter. The pillows were what I missed most, frankly.

  For a moment, I wished Katie was here with me, but the luxury of sleep was too much and I drifted down to oblivion.

  Seventy-four

  THE SOUND OF CROWS SLIPPED INTO MY DREAMS FOLLOWED BY the howling of a lone wolf. I flew across the city, toward the mountains, seeking someone. I needed to warn someone, stop something horrible from happening.

  In a clearing at the edge of the snowline I saw a black tree, its limbs reaching toward a stormy heaven. There on the tree hung a haggard man, flowing and matted gray hair and beard, his body twisted in pain. He had been crucified, nailed to the tree for some crime.

  “Come to me,” he whispered.

  In the distance lightning shattered against the mountain peaks.

  “I’m afraid,” I said to the wind.

  The old man cocked his head to the side like a bird. I could see he had only one eye. At the foot of the tree lay his shredded clothes, a broken staff, and a pizza box, open with crusts scattered among the stones.

  “Joe?” I asked.

  He cackled then, throwing his head back against the bark of the tree. Blood flowed from the already encrusted wounds as his body shook.

  “Find me, smith.”

  I looked around. “Where are you, Joe? Where have you gone?”

  “I am lost in the madness of age,” he cried against the rising wind. “Find the golden apple. Raise the Æsir. Save the horn blower, call the fallen from their resting place.”

  I hovered in front of his broken and naked body. “I do not understand.”

  “I swear to you, warrior-smith. I will spare the blade this time. That is my payment to you for your deeds. You have slain one of the usurpers, the kin-slayers. No amount of wergild can compensate for the slaughter of our people. The battle is coming, the Midgard Serpent begins to wake.”

  A word echoed in my head then, a grinding sound of boulders and snow . . . an avalanche roared down the mounta
in and I could not move from where I hovered.

  “We serve the wheel,” he shouted above the roaring of the mountain. “The cycle must renew. Promise me, smith. You are the key!”

  A wall of ice and stone swallowed him and the tree where he’d hung, choking the world in frigid destruction. The anger and power of it finally loosed me from my tether and I pinwheeled, shrieking across the night sky.

  Seventy-five

  DEIDRE CAME OUT OF THE HOSPITAL ALMOST FIVE WEEKS later. Black Briar was having a barn-raising and celebration. This would be the first time we’d all be together since the battle—since so many perished.

  Jimmy made sure I was invited, though he hadn’t spoken to me himself. Katie and I were working back to some sort of relationship, but this one was deeper, more emotional and spiritual. The physical would return in time, I’m sure. I wasn’t feeling any pressure and she wasn’t pushing anything.

  I planned to crash at Black Briar the night, camping out in the field with Katie. There would be much drinking after the barn-raising and, perhaps, something else.

  Rolph’s gear was loaded in the pickup, covered with a tarp and tied down. I was going to Surrey the next day. But today, we were raising a barn. Building back the heart of our community, beginning the healing process.

  I pulled into the drive with a bit of trepidation. Maybe we’d all be okay, in some way. I know I had hope.