Petrified

by Ben Meeks

  “I’m just tickled,” I said.

  He held an arm out to direct me toward the stairs. “Come on up and get comfortable. The Queen will be here soon to talk to you.”

  I started walking and stopped abruptly as I passed him when a scent caught my nose. I knew it immediately, sweet and delicate with a slight metallic undertone, not unlike an Elf in general. It was blood—Elvin blood specifically.

  I stopped walking and looked at him. “Are you injured?”

  “No, it’s nothing,” he said, clearly not wanting to engage in the subject.

  “Hello? Keeper here, mystical healer with the nose of a basset hound. I can smell the blood on you. Let me take a look, it will just take a second,” I said.

  He looked worried at this and glanced around to see who was watching. A sentry on the middle level was making her rounds. She was out of earshot and didn’t take any interest in us or our conversation.

  “Come over here,” Harlan said, pulling me under the porch in a corner. “I . . . uh . . . Well, I’m leaving.” He lifted the side of his beanie to show me his ear. It was bandaged on the top and I could see red soaking through.

  I took a step closer to whisper, “Harlan, what did you do?”

  “Just something to make fitting in easier where I am going,” he said.

  “But no elf kingdom will accept you with trimmed ears. You’ll be an outcast,” I said. “Where are you going to go?”

  “You can’t be an outcast from something you’re not a part of, Obie. I don’t fit in here, I’m not happy. I’m going to go somewhere and start fresh. Just find a place for myself with the humans,” he said.

  “Hold still,” I said, raising a hand up on either side of his head. The blue light emanating from my hands was largely drowned out in the daylight, only illuminating his cheeks and reflecting in his eyes. The wounds on his ears closed quickly. A slight ache worked its way into my arms and was gone a moment later.

  If he was willing to trim his ears there would be nothing I could do to change his mind. “You know when the Queen finds out about this—”

  He didn’t let me finish my sentence. “She doesn’t have to find out. Just don’t say anything, okay? I will be gone tomorrow night.”

  If the Queen finds out I knew she would probably refuse to help me, not to mention what she would do to him. On the other hand, it’s none of my business and I did have plausible deniability. “Okay, I won’t say anything. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  He thanked me and escorted me into the top floor of the compound. It held a kitchen on one side with the rest of the floor a single open room. It had a few couches, tables and chairs, a pool table, and a large fireplace opposite the kitchen. A couple of sentries patrolled outside on the second and third floor with rifles. I doubt there was much to see but the Queen was ever vigilant with the security of the Elvin Nation.

  “I can have the kitchen boy make you something,” Harlan said. “Something to eat or drink, tea maybe?”

  “No thanks, I’m fine,” I said.

  I changed to krasis in preparation for my meeting with the Queen. After a short wait, two vehicles pulled up to the compound. The first was a truck with two people in the cab and an elf in the back. From above I could see what looked to be an empty bracket welded to the center of the bed with a pole rising up from it. The elf sat on a large lockbox mounted against the cab. No doubt the heavy firepower. The second vehicle was an SUV with blacked out windows. The vehicles didn’t bother parking neatly, instead they just stopped caddy-corner in front of the compound. The Queen was followed by the royal guard, a seven elf strong, well-armed, and very well trained security force made up entirely of women. Her personal attendant, a thin male in plain clothes who looked unimpressive by comparison to the rest of the entourage, brought up the rear. Not a group I would want to tangle with, personally, although the attendant wouldn’t be so bad. As the Queen ascended to the third level, the security force broke off, taking positions to secure the area. By the time they reached the top it was just the Queen, her attendant and two guards. The guards took position on opposite sides of the room while the Queen came to greet me, ignoring Harlan completely as she passed him.

  She was tall and slender, standing almost six feet, a full seven inches taller than Harlan and her attendant. Her long blonde hair was pulled back showing her pointed ears like a badge. She wore combat boots, jeans, and a black spaghetti strap top. The most noticeable part of her outfit was the Old West style six-shooters hanging from a belt that sat lopsided off of her hips, which accentuated their sway as she walked.

  “Obie, I hear you have a warning for me. Are you here to deliver the warning or is this a courtesy?” she asked.

  Say what you want about the Queen, but she was sharp. She understood my position on a level that few did and knew I could be here as a friend or as Thera’s representative. “It’s a courtesy, Your Highness,” I replied. She wasn’t my Queen and I really had no obligation to address her that way but I have found stroking egos tends to make things go easier.

  “Then please have a seat and give me your message,” she said.

  I sat down at the closest table. She took a seat opposite me. “I am hunting a demon on Thera’s orders. I have a plan in the works but if I fail, Thera is prepared to destroy the region to eliminate it. If this happens, you and your people will most likely be killed along with everybody else. I wanted to warn you and ask for your help to ensure my success. It would be minimal risk to your people but there are a few things we would need to discuss.”

  “I appreciate the information, Obie. You are again showing your intention to be a friend of the elves. What are you asking of me?”

  “This creature can fly. To make sure she can’t escape I need to keep it on the ground. I was hoping you could provide some air support.”

  “That’s simple enough,” she said. “What’s the catch?”

  “Well . . .” I pulled out my most charming smile. “This demon is a gorgon and, like the old legends say, can turn people to stone. I don’t know the specifics of how it works but your elves could be in serious danger. I have a plan to prevent this but I am afraid you won’t like it.”

  “Let’s have it then,” she said.

  “The Tortured Occult have a natural resistance to her magic. If you can keep her grounded, they can shield you from her magic. That way your elves will be safe and I can focus on killing her, instead of worrying about if your people are in danger.”

  She leaned back in her chair in thought. I was hoping she was considering my proposal rather than deciding how to tactfully banish me from the kingdom.

  “I would like to help you, Obie, but they are not trustworthy. They would pose as much of a threat to us as this demon, if not more. We will help you, but not with the Tortured Occult,” she replied.

  “I know you have a strained relationship with the T.O., but this threat affects both of you, and you know what they say about the enemy of my enemy. This could be an opportunity to start mending fences with them. Surely you could both benefit from a better relationship,” I said.

  “It’s true that there could be benefit,” she agreed, “but it doesn’t change the fact that they can’t be trusted.”

  “What if I take responsibility for them?” I said.

  She squinted at this turn. “Meaning if they turn on us, you will make it right?”

  “Yes, whatever it takes,” I said. “Will you at least meet with them to see if we can work something out?”

  “If you take responsibility for them, then yes,” she said. “We will meet, but I promise nothing else.”

  I couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Just getting her to agree to show up was a giant step. We might actually be able to pull this off. “Thank you. The meeting is set for tonight at ground zero. I can escort you there whenever you are ready.”

  The Queen turned to the member of her security force closest to us. “Stock up on silver bullets. Harlan, you will attend our meeti
ng as well.”

  “Do you need me there? Wouldn’t it be better if I stayed behind?” Harlan answered.

  Her response had an air of disdain. “I don’t need you but you are in charge of the southern border. Any agreements reached will impact your responsibilities. So do us a favor, quit whining and go get in the truck.”

  C H A P T E R • 23

  Dawson Forest, a ten-thousand-acre nuclear test site turned wildlife management area, was known as the Dead Forest to ultras. It still housed several concrete structures that had been too expensive to tear down when they were abandoned. The largest of these buildings was three stories tall and fenced off to the public with No Trespassing signs. We referred to it as ground zero and used it as a meeting place when the more public venue of the clubhouse wouldn’t work. The general public was largely unaware of the place and the only people that might be around were high schoolers looking for a private place to get into trouble. We parked our three-car caravan off one of the side roads close by and walked over to ground zero.

  The building was completely obscured by the trees and undergrowth. It didn’t become visible until we were almost to the fence. Cotton and Razor were standing by the hole that had been cut as an entrance. Razor held the fence open for us as we approached. We ducked under it one by one and proceeded inside. One of the security force followed the Queen, her attendant, Harlan, and me into the building. Inside it was dilapidated and dark. We made our way through the skeleton of a building, consisting of a steel reinforced concrete frame and garbage. No doors or windows, only empty spaces where they used to be. Pipes coming out of the floor and walls had been cut off, leaving hints as to what had been there. The ground was covered with debris: pieces of concrete that had broken free from the walls and ceilings, and garbage that had been brought in and left. Graffiti lined the walls, partially covered by vines growing in through the empty window slits. The free flowing air combined with the concrete gave the area an old smell, stone and nature combining into something that I think buildings of long abandoned civilizations would smell like.

  I led the Queen’s procession down the stairs to the lowest level; The attendant stepped aside and waited at the top of the stairs. He would be able to hear everything from there but it was far enough away to not be considered a part of the meeting. The large room below ground level was nothing but trash and rubble. Hank waited with Cearbhall and Otis on the far side of the room. A lantern was placed in the center of the room, providing enough light for our meeting but casting long shadows across the floor and walls. I could feel the tension in the air as soon as we stepped into the room.

  “What the hell’s this?” Otis said.

  “An opportunity. If you all will just bear with me for a few minutes,” I said. “Pun intended.” One day Otis is going to find the humor in bear puns, until then I’ll just have to keep trying.

  It’s customary to conduct business unveiled, the idea being that pacts made behind disguises can’t be trusted. I kicked off my shoes and changed into krasis. Cearbhall, Otis, and Hank did the same. The Queen had come with her ears showing; her guard took off her cap and pulled her hair back revealing her ears. Harlan stood against the wall behind the Queen in the dark and kept his hat on. It hadn’t occurred to me until now, but if he took his hat off there’s no keeping his secret. No wonder he didn’t want to come. The Queen and her guard had her back turned to him. I decided to ignore him and with any luck Otis wouldn’t make a big deal about it.

  “Let’s get started,” I said. “First, thank you all for showing up. As you have heard already we face a threat that is putting not just your families in jeopardy but the entire region. I believe that by meeting and speaking we can come to an under—”

  “Hold on, Obie,” Otis said, stepping forward. “That one in the back is still veiled.”

  The room turned to look at Harlan, who had deer-in-headlights down pat.

  “I’m sorry, sir, no disrespect intended. I’ll just go wait outside. Please don’t let my mistake affect your negotiations,” he said, moving for the stairs.

  “Stop,” the Queen said. “This is my son, Harlan. He runs the Southern Outpost and if something were going to come from this, you would be his responsibility. Take off your hat and step forward.”

  He looked at me over her shoulder. I would have loved to help him out but there was nothing I could do. I shrugged.

  “Now,” she commanded when he didn’t respond immediately.

  He met his mother’s eyes and pulled the beanie from his head with one hand. He pulled his hair back showing his cropped ears. No one said anything at first—there was a fair amount of shock to go around—but the Queen never looked away from her son or showed any emotion.

  “Take him to the truck,” she said and turned her back to him. She stood quietly facing Otis until the guard had escorted him out leaving her without any backup. If she was upset, she wasn’t showing it.

  “Please excuse my son, he is . . . Let’s just get this over with,” she said.

  “Right,” I said, glad to get back to business, “So, I believe that the two of you would benefit from a better relationship. We are in a bad situation with this demon, but we can turn it into something positive by using it as an opportunity to mend fences.”

  “As I have said, Obie, if the Tortured Occult shows itself to be trustworthy, you will have Elvin support,” the Queen said.

  “Tom C’s word is good. The organization is run by honor above all,” Otis said.

  “Yes, I am well aware of the honor among your kind,” she said.

  “You are the one that brought silver to a peaceful negotiation. I can smell it on you.” Otis took a step forward.

  “I leave the silver when you pull your fangs,” she said stepping forward to meet him.

  “I’ll pull my fangs when you cut your ears,” Otis snarled back.

  Admittedly, that was a low blow considering what she had just seen with Harlan. They stood face to face, or as close as face to face as they could get with Otis in krasis looming a good two feet over the Queen. Otis’s breath hit the Queen in strong bursts, pushing her hair back with each breath. Her hand drifted lazily down to her pistol. If she was intimidated, she didn’t show it. Even with the difference in size and strength between the two, it would be foolish to underestimate her, and Otis was no fool. Bullets hurt and even without silver the Queen’s reflexes, speed, and skill made her a dangerous adversary.

  “Friends, let’s step back and focus on what’s important. We don’t have much time to pull this off and I really need your help. Please,” I said, motioning for a tactful retreat.

  Otis was the first to step back but their gazes didn’t unlock until they both moved back a few feet. The mood in the room lightened somewhat.

  “Excellent, thank you. The plan is simple. This demon can fly. The elves keep her pinned down so Cearbhall and I can deal with her. The T.O. keeps her off the elves. Neither one of your groups should be in any real danger. You are not there to get involved. You’re there to make sure the demon doesn’t get away when things start going bad for her,” I said.

  “So we are only there to keep elves safe,” Otis asked.

  “Yes, exactly,” I replied.

  “The T.O. will help. In return for protecting the elves, I want access to ride and run inside Elvin lands. There’s not a lot of forest secluded enough in our territory for a full pack run,” Otis answered. “Additionally, if we are going to be friends again, then the elves need to come to the meetings.”

  The Queen didn’t have to think about her answer, “There will be no shifter packs running freely on Elvin lands. You may schedule a preapproved quarterly run, so long as you stay within a designated area. At the first sign of aggression, the agreement is void, and you and your kind will be expelled from our lands—the ones that survive anyway.”

  “Agreed,” he said.

  “I will send a representative to attend the council meetings, but I want the meetings moved to the Southern Outp
ost. Additionally, there will be no restrictions on the materials, silver included, that the Elvin Nation can import,” she said.

  “Those are decisions the council would have to vote on,” Otis said.

  “Yes, but there are five seats and three of them are in this room. We can pass the resolution without the support of the rats or that fat Tailypo Wilix. That is, if we all agree,” she said, looking at me.

  This is exactly the kind of back door dealings that I try to avoid but I needed her help. Besides, moving the meeting place was not a big deal and she could get any materials she wanted as it was. She was probably just testing us. If Thera floods the region, we will have bigger problems than where we have social hour.

  “Actually, Wilix lost a lot of weight and was replaced a few years ago by a fat Kobold, Hambone. Regardless, I will vote yes if it gets this done,” I said.

  “You’ll have my vote, too,” Otis said. The Queen smiled at getting her way, until he followed up with, “On the condition that your son, the one that was here earlier, holds the seat for the elves.”

  “It’s my right to appoint whomever I choose to the position,” she said.

  “I’m not challenging your authority. Politics is about give and take, I’m just asking for a little consideration. You said he is already running the outpost, so he’ll already be there. You don’t have to change anything.”

  She wasn’t smiling now. “Fine. When is it taking place, Obie?”

  “Tomorrow night, Browns Bridge on 53, just outside Gainesville at ten sharp. You should get there early to have everything set up and concealed,” I said.

  “We will be there,” she said and turned to head back up the stairs.

  “We are also calling a meeting tonight to update everyone on the situation,” I said. “We can take your votes tonight and make everything official, but you will need your representative for it to pass.”

  “You may take Harlan and bring him back tonight. If he doesn’t return, the deal’s off,” she said.