Public Enemies

by Ann Aguirre

  “It’s been fifteen years since we spoke last,” Raoul told him.

  “Hm. And what young sparks have you brought?” When his shining gaze fell on me, I braced myself against the urge to step back.

  There was an earthy, iron weight to his regard, one that whispered I wasn’t worthy to be in his presence, different from the Harbinger’s glamour, the cold god’s dread, or Dwyer’s bright arrogance. Govannon was all the quiet majesty of a primeval forest. He didn’t need to threaten me or posture for me to sense his permanence. Everything about him was massive and solid, like a boulder set by glaciers a million years ago.

  “I’m Edie.” That wasn’t nearly enough, but all I could manage for the moment. Following Raoul’s lead, I bowed to him until he gestured for me to stand up.

  “Kian.” He did the same, prompting a half smile from the smith.

  “Your reverence is noted. But … I sense you have business with me, lady. Am I wrong?”

  Raoul didn’t answer; neither did Kian. I’d taken Dwyer’s heart. Now it was up to me to push the advantage.

  “You’re not.” This time I spoke more firmly. “I have some ore that could be turned into a devastating weapon, and you’re the only one who can work it.”

  A minute pause. Then Govannon said, “Color me … intrigued.”

  When I gave him a glimpse of the ember in a box, his bushy bronze brows shot up nearly to his hairline. “I took this yesterday. If I don’t acquire a better way to defend myself, he’ll repo it and burn me to the ground.”

  “The strength you used yesterday was fleeting?” the smith asked.

  “It’s finite.” I didn’t show him my compact, but I didn’t need to look at it to know my spirit familiar was still weak as hell.

  “I’d love to do this for you.” Govannon’s eyes shone like copper coins.

  “I sense a but.”

  “Astute of you, lady. Before I agree to this commission, I must be sure you’re worthy of wielding one of my weapons.”

  A GEM CANNOT BE POLISHED WITHOUT FRICTION

  “How do I prove I am?”

  Govannon smiled, sharp like one of his famed blades. “You must pass a test, of course.”

  Kian tightened his grip on my hand, but I didn’t let him protest. “Okay. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how important this is.”

  “For me as well,” the smith replied.

  I remembered what Raoul said about how long it had been since Govannon worked with anything but regular metals. “Just tell me what to do.”

  In answer, he gestured, and the workshop disappeared. Suddenly I was alone on a rocky precipice, but I’d had this happen often enough now that I barely paused. There was no wind, no sensation of cold. Which meant this was an illusion. When Kian actually ported us to a mountainside in Tibet, I felt the difference. So whatever this was, it was happening in my head while my body hung out in the smithy.

  Govannon hadn’t explained anything about the test or what my ultimate goal was; fine, I’d wing it. I followed the rocky trail around until I came to a clearing. Two trees grew side by side, and they were in full blossom, contrary to the season in the real world. The tree on the left had one enormous white fruit unlike anything I’d ever seen. The closest comparison would be an oversized squash, but the texture was more like cantaloupe with a snow-white peel. On the right, the boughs groaned with a plethora of tiny red berries; they grew in clusters of five, rough like raspberries, but the color was similar to holly.

  Let’s see, most red berries are poisonous. But I’m probably not here to decide what to eat. Maybe I’m not supposed to do anything with the fruit. Could be a distraction. So I tried to pass between, but the branches slammed down, blocking my path. Okay, obviously I have to make a choice, here. But there was no additional information forthcoming.

  Hoping I wasn’t making a rash decision, I turned to the berries and carefully plucked one sprig, then took a step forward. The branches didn’t slam down this time. I made the right call? Unsure, I continued until I came to a brazier at the head of the path with forks heading right and left down either side of the mountain. Govannon’s face appeared in the flames and he spoke in a booming voice.

  “Prove to me this wasn’t chance. Explain your choice.”

  God, this sounded dumb. “Well, there were plenty of red berries. It seemed better to take some of those than to pull down the big melon thing. I mean, there’s only one, and that means it must be special, right?”

  “That is the selfless choice,” he agreed. “Proceed, lady.”

  Then the fire went inert, simple flickering light that gave off no heat. I studied the paths but neither had distinguishing characteristics; it wasn’t like one was tough and the other easy. They seemed to have the same grade incline and more or less the same amount of stones. This might not be a test, though. So I took the closer one and climbed down. Along the way, I came across a wolf with its foot caught in a snare, but when I tried to help it, the animal snarled at me. Even in a dreamscape, I wasn’t eager to have my arm ripped open, and Govannon might be powerful enough that any damage I took here would transfer to my physical body.

  Hm. I wonder if feeding it would calm it down. But I don’t want to hurt it. Since I had no way to be sure if these berries were good to eat, I plucked one off the stem, broke it open, and tasted the juice. It was sweetish, and even if it was poison, a taste wouldn’t be enough to kill me, right? I waited for a while to see how I felt. The wolf settled down, glaring at me out of amber eyes. Every now and then, it snarled, but at least it was no longer gnawing at its own foot.

  Eventually I decided the berries were harmless and I plucked another one, leaving me with three. I rolled it toward the wolf, who devoured it hungrily. To my astonishment, it fell over a few seconds later. Oh, crap, was that wolfsbane? Is that even a thing? I ran toward it to make sure I hadn’t killed it, but it seemed to be asleep. Hm, maybe the berry has a sedative effect on canines? When I pulled its hurt paw out of the trap, I wasn’t even thinking about tests. After ripping my shirt in strips, I fashioned a bandage for its foreleg and wrapped it up tight. Then I backed off because I didn’t want to be too close when it woke up.

  I sat down some distance away and just waited. The wolf was out for what seemed like a long time for one berry, and when it stirred, it stretched and looked around, no longer mindless with pain and terror. It sniffed and nuzzled the wrapping on its paw, but didn’t try to chew it off. Then it glanced over at me, all keen attention.

  “You’re okay now,” I said softly.

  The wolf responded by bounding toward me and I jerked back, but instead of attacking, it jumped on me with friendly intentions, licking my face like a dog. Trembling, I ran my hand across its back. Cautiously, I stood up and it fell into step a few paces behind me, tail up as if ready for adventure. It limped a little but not enough to slow us down.

  “So you’re Team Edie now? Awesome.”

  A quiet chuff came in response, and I glanced over my shoulder to find the wolf giving me a look that seemed a little too wise. When the ground leveled out, there was another brazier. I stopped short, then took a second look at the wolf.

  “Huh. You were the next test?”

  “Indeed.” The fire came to life once more with Govannon’s face. “The cleverness in how you instinctively sought to help a hostile creature, how you risked yourself to do so, and the compassion you showed in tending its wounds … you’ve more than passed the test of cunning and kindness, lady.”

  “Wow.” I wondered what was on the path I hadn’t chosen.

  “As your reward, the wolf will accompany you through the last trial.”

  “Thanks,” I said, but the god of the forge was already gone.

  The wolf yipped, nudging my leg. I rubbed its head and continued on the path. Level ground now, we’d reached a plateau and there was no choice but to go straight. In the distance I glimpsed wooden stakes in the ground, arranged in a circle as if marking out a primitive arena, not a pit li
ke I’d fought in for the Harbinger, but something more like a Native American proving grounds. The ground was dry and dusty beneath my feet and strewn with stones.

  A large humanoid paced in the center, a giant club dragging the ground behind it. The creature was clad in roughly tanned skins and it had a misshapen skull. When it turned, I saw it had only one big eye in the middle of its forehead. Cyclops? Seriously? Somehow I doubted I’d be able to tame it with berries. It roared when it spotted me, but it drew up short when it reached the stakes. Apparently I had to step into the ring willingly before it could attack.

  “Face me,” the monster bellowed.

  “Combat trial, huh?”

  A growl sounded low in the wolf’s throat and it crouched to attack. I wasn’t ready to fight; I had no weapons, but that didn’t stop me when I went up against Dwyer. So when the wolf charged I raced after it. The animal was too quick at first for the Cyclops with its ponderous club. When it slammed the spiked weapon into the ground, the earth trembled, and I tumbled backward before getting close to it. In the movies, the heroine would do a wildly improbable aerial flip and land on its back, smash berry juice into its eyes to blind it long enough for her to tear its throat open with her bare hands. I had a hard time rolling fast enough not to get stomped in two. Without my spirit familiar, my fighting prowess was just a hair above rudimentary. While I knew how to strike, fall, and block in theory, reality was a lot more chaotic, plus Raoul was never actively trying to crush my skull when we sparred.

  The wolf wasn’t faring any better now, especially with its hurt paw. When it nipped at the Cyclops, the creature knocked it five feet back with the club. I reacted instinctively, diving forward to take the killing blow. I only knew that I’d saved the wolf and its blind loyalty would be its doom. Agony exploded in my spine, and the world went dark.

  When I woke, I was on the sooty stone floor in Govannon’s workshop, cradled in Kian’s lap. Tentatively I moved, checking for permanent paralysis. But there was only phantom pain, so I sat up, feeling nauseated and shaky. Raoul gave me a hand when Kian tried to hold me longer, and Govannon watched us, his weathered features impassive.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, unable to hold his gaze. “I couldn’t defeat the enemy. So I botched the last challenge.”

  “Who said you failed, lady?”

  “Huh?” Startled, I glanced up to find the god of the forge smiling.

  “Your first instinct was to protect the weak. The point of these challenges was not to test your combat prowess but your worthiness to wield one of my weapons. Training will make a warrior queen of you, but I needed to learn of your heart.”

  “So you’ll forge this for me?” Hesitantly, I proffered the box, unable to believe that failure was what the god wanted.

  “It will be my pleasure. I’ll be some while in the shaping of it, so if you’ve any special requests, you’d best make them now.”

  Since I was still processing, I glanced at Raoul and Kian. “What do you think?”

  “Are you offering an enhancement?” Raoul asked.

  “Indeed. This will be a special weapon, but I can’t make the wielder immortal or anything so extravagant.”

  “Can you protect me from other immortals?”

  Govannon paused, thoughtful. “Make it more difficult for them to harm you? Yes.”

  “That might give me the edge I need, along with my spirit familiar. I’m not sure if this counts, but it would also be helpful if it didn’t always look like a weapon. Because if I can’t carry it, the most powerful blade won’t do me any good.”

  “Noted,” Govannon said. “And, no, that’s a feature.”

  Like Raoul did in the beginning, I bowed low, waiting for the smith to dismiss us.

  He didn’t waste much time in doing so. “The three of you should wait in the house. Feel free to eat or sleep, as the need strikes. Oh, and if you could feed my pets, that would be good.”

  Unexpectedly I found myself standing outside the workshop with Kian and Raoul. Who looked slightly worried. “… Pets?”

  I was wondering what kind of animals the god of the forge might keep too, but when we went in through the back door, I was surprised by the homey feel. He had lace curtains in a delightfully old-fashioned kitchen, complete with fluffy white cat sunning itself on a pale latticed chair. When it spotted us, it meowed indignantly and pawed its empty dish. Glad to have something to do, I rummaged in the cupboards until I found a few cans of cat food. When I turned on the electric opener, four more cats came running from elsewhere. It was the cat-pocalypse for a while until we found dishes for everyone and gave them breakfast, lunch, or whatever this was. I’d completely lost track of time and the pallid winter sky gave little sign. Checking my phone told me this was actually dinner; I was apparently out for a while.

  “Are we vulnerable here?” Kian asked, after the cats settled down.

  Raoul considered for a few seconds, then replied, “Less than we were in Boston. If Edie pressed Dwyer hard enough to take his heart, then he’s licking his wounds and recouping his strength. But there’s no doubt he’ll strike as soon as he’s confident of victory.”

  “He won’t underestimate you again,” Kian warned.

  “That’s fine. While he’s recharging, my spirit familiar is too.”

  That prompted me to check the compact. Shit. I can barely see the faint outline for Cameron’s face. It would likely be a week or longer before I could count on the kind of strength and protection he’d offered during the fight. Belatedly it occurred to me to wonder if he was okay. Apart from being dead, that was.

  “Cameron?” I whispered.

  At first no reply came.

  But Rochelle said he’s always with me.

  “Did I push you too far?”

  Two very faint raps.

  “Sorry. I got carried away.” I stared at his faint outline in the compact for a few more seconds before closing it and putting it away.

  Kian was watching me, his expression dark. “You … talk to it?”

  “He’s a person.” Or he was.

  “Someone who hurt and humiliated you, Edie.”

  And the dog-girl video was the last straw, the thing so bad that I couldn’t move on from it. Back then I had no idea what pain was. I didn’t think my life could get worse—I thought if I could make the people who hurt me suffer a little—it would all go away. But that didn’t change anything, and their pain only made me feel horrible. Then my mom died … and now my dad was gone. Taking a deep breath, I forced away the ache of guilt and sadness.

  Once I have a weapon from Govannon, I’ll be better prepared to face Dwyer. And get my dad back. Wedderburn and Allison were trying to locate him for me, but I couldn’t just sit and do nothing in the meantime. There was no telling what Dwyer would do, if my dad refused his offer of employment. And I couldn’t imagine him quietly accepting the job from someone who’d kidnapped and terrorized him.

  Assuming he’s not already dead. Assuming Dwyer didn’t cut out his heart in retaliation for what I did.

  Cold sweat broke out all over my body. No, I can’t think that way. I can’t panic. I need more information. I need to be logical.

  With the cats fed, I needed to keep my hands busy, so I put the kettle on to boil. In Govannon’s fridge, I found lots of cheese. Since he presumably didn’t need to eat, he must love the taste. Fortunately for us, there was also bread, so I made toasted sandwiches to go along with the tea. By the time I got the food on the table, the rising hysteria was coiled into a tight knot in the bottom of my stomach.

  Trying to stay calm, I said to Raoul, “What about Fell? I don’t know anything about Dwyer’s partner. Same with Mawer and Graf, actually.”

  “Fell … in the simplest terms, is a god of death. But that’s deceptive. Across cultures, he’s been male and female, king and/or queen of the underworld, so he’s both. And neither. It depends on his mood how he or she presents.”

  “And Death is aligned with the sun god? Huh.”
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br />   Kian sat down beside me, adding milk and sugar to his tea cup. “You think that’s weird?”

  “I guess I associate Wedderburn more with death, though he’s technically on my side.”

  It occurred to me to wonder why Buzzkill wasn’t here … if he’d missed me running out with Kian and Raoul. Or maybe he is … and he’s spying silently. I risked a paranoid look around. The cats would probably react to an invisible killer clown, right? But they were all sprawled on the floor around the table in various no-dignity poses. A large Maine Coon was licking its belly.

  Raoul said, “From what I’ve been able to figure out, agreements don’t always occur as you’d expect from the stories. The rivalries, however, sometimes do.”

  “Like the gods of winter and sun going head to head?” I guessed.

  “Exactly. Fell is running his own game against the goddess of fertility, counting on Dwyer for backup.”

  “Oh, so the fact that Fell didn’t help Dwyer during our fight might cause conflict?” That was an interesting insight.

  Raoul shrugged. “It’s possible, but I suspect Dwyer’s shamed by taking such a loss.”

  Propping his chin in hand, Kian frowned, but it was a contemplative expression. Fortunately he seemed to have gotten over me talking to Cameron. “So there are multiple games going on, even amid tangled alliances.”

  “There are hundreds.”

  That made more sense to me than there being some organized mass competition with one single judge ranking a final winner. But the sheer scale was insane and overwhelming. All of my misery came about because I’d gotten between Dwyer and Wedderburn. Period. They were determined to use me, move me like a pawn on a board.

  “Okay, so what about Mawer and Graf?”

  Raoul ate half his sandwich before he spoke again. “Mawer was a catalyst who struck a deal with Wedderburn and he asked for immortality as his first favor.”

  “How did that work out?” I could imagine.

  “Wedderburn flash-froze him and put his name on the sign.” The somber light in Raoul’s dark eyes told me he wasn’t kidding.