by R D Martin
No sound issued from the caterpillar’s mouth. Instead a series of images, feelings, and colors invaded her mind, translated by her brain into words she understood.
“Bella. It has been, um, a long time.”
Though she knew the images to be a translation by her own mind, her imagination must have been affected because she could swear the words sounded tired.
“I was so sorry to hear of your father’s passing. He was a good man. Though I must admit, I’m surprised to see you. It has been years,” the Finder chastised.
“Thank you, Finder. He always spoke well of you too. I’m… I’m sorry I haven’t come by. After the funeral, well, life just went on and so did I, I guess.”
“Yes. It does that.”
The images floating through her mind had a weight to them that spoke of centuries passing rather than just a few years.
“I remember you running around here as a child, skipping around without a care in the world. It used to make me…”
Here the translations in her head failed for a moment as an image full of sharp pointed teeth came into focus. She hoped it meant smile, though it could have just as easily meant wanting to eat her. She remembered being noisy and clumsy at that age, so much so she’d once knocked over an expensive artifact, giving herself a gash on her shoulder and bleeding on the carpet. The scar was still there, though the bloodstain disappeared before her next visit. Shivering, she preferred to interpret the image as a smile.
Thinking of herself as a child reminded her why she’d come, and after a few more pleasantries, she told the Finder the entire situation.
“So,” the Finder said as her story ended. “You want me to locate this missing child.”
The image in her mind was of a plump black and white larva, but she understood what the Finder meant.
“I will do it, of course. What will you trade for it? Nothing is free, you know.”
She frowned. She’d been hoping the Finder would help her out of friendship, but if he insisted on being paid, she was sunk. Finder prices were more than she’d be able to pay in a year.
“I’m sorry, Finder. I can’t afford much. Actually, I was just hoping for some advice on how to break through whatever is blocking my spell.”
“Yes. That surprised me, though. Someone blocks your spell? They must be powerful. Have you considered this may not be something you want to be involved with?”
“I,” she started. Cat had made the same argument, and for a moment it tempted her to give in. Pulling herself together, she shook her head. “No. I need to do this. That little girl needs help and, well, I guess I’ll have to do.” There was still a quiver in her voice, but she sounded more firm than she had before. At least she did in her own head.
The caterpillar seemed to sway for a moment as if perched on a branch shaken by a light breeze. When it stopped, a series of images passed through her mind so fast it was hard to make out any of the jumble. She slapped her hands to the sides of her head, trying to stop the flow of pictures into her mind, but they continued without slowing down. Pressure built in her skull, like a diver rising from the deep too quickly and suffering pain from the bends. The pain was too much, there was no escape, no release. Her head felt ready to pop at any moment.
As suddenly as they’d started, the images stopped. She blinked to bring her eyes back into focus. Feeling something on her lip, she reached over and ran her hand across her face. Pulling it away, she saw red streaks on the back of her hand from where her nose had bled. What felt like hours must have only taken seconds because, with the room still swimming into focus, the Moab still stood upright, looking at her with its pinched face.
“What… what was that?” she asked. Her head pounded as the info dump of images settled. Even as she concentrated, some images faded while others grew in sharp contrast. Finally, like a rubber band pulled tight and then released, the idea the Moab had implanted in her mind jumped to the foreground with an almost comical twang.
“It was… good to see you again, Bella,” the Finder said, twisting its small body around and inching toward its portable home. “I hope we shall have time together again.”
She nodded, though she was not eager to experience this again. The Finder hadn’t just given her the bare outline of an idea. Instead he’d given her every sight, every sound and emotion, even some smells that connected all the different images into a single thought. He was sending her to see the Moirai, a creature so old and powerful, legends had even grown around it in the human world. Though they had too many names to recount, humans still called it by the name they’d invented thousands of years ago. To those without magic, the Moirai were still known as the Fates.
The Fates were powerful, aloof and had no love for humanity. Their fearsome reputation was not unearned either. They were just as likely to burn someone to ash just to watch the pretty colors as they were to lend aid. Bella’s stomach twisted. Dealing with the Fates was something she’d never have considered, but now she was about to march up and demand answers. She could only pray they were in a good mood.
Chapter 8
Sliding out of her cab, Bella took a moment to stare at the sign hanging above Club Luna’s door. To anyone without the sight, the sign looked like a full moon flanked on either side by gibbous moons. To someone with the sight, however, the sign was more than just the phases of the moon; it was an invitation. Runes shifted across its surface, glowing with an intensity that even the spotlights pointing at them couldn’t match. Taken together, the runes all meant one thing. This was a club for the supernatural, and those poor humans stuck in line wouldn’t be getting in.
If she were anyone else, Bella might have found it amusing as she strode past people in line, making her way toward the bouncers guarding the front doors. If she were anyone else, she might have taken the smallest bit of pleasure in the angry shouts and snarls of people who, having stood in line for hours, were powerless to do anything as the bouncers removed the purple velvet ropes barring entrance into the club and stood aside to let her pass. If she were anyone else, she might have looked forward to spending some time in the club, letting her hair down and enjoying the overpriced alcohol as the deep bass of the club music washed over her. But she wasn’t anyone else, and this was not her idea of a good time. She did, however, smirk a bit as she overheard a woman calling her a bitch as the door closed behind her.
As expected of a club naming itself after the moon, the theme continued inside across every surface possible. Walls were lined with long hanging curtains covered in opalescent circles representing each of the moon’s phases, while tables were scattered around the main floor, each high enough for a person to lean on, but no chairs in sight. The club’s owners must have considered it a sin for patrons to have a seat. Off to the left, stretching almost the entire length of the wall, was a bar so overcrowded by people it almost made Bella feel claustrophobic. People stood in line, crowding each other while hoping to gain access to the bar. Behind the bar, scuttling back and forth as they tried to fill as many orders as possible at one time, were a dozen or more bartenders. Each one wearing a black vest with the club’s logo stitched over the left breast, and each one looking as harried as a rabbit chased by dogs.
It didn’t take her long to find her targets since they were the only beings occupying the VIP section. The Fates were not what mythology and rumor made them out to be. Even though from where she stood, it looked to Bella as if she were watching three incredibly beautiful blond women dancing together, she knew she was seeing one being split into three, all sharing the same soul. Legend said the Moirai were once one being, strong and powerful. As the story went, or at least as she’d heard it, the Moirai was the daughter of an earth goddess and, though not a goddess herself, had been worshiped as one for her ability to see into the future. After amassing vast fortunes and a wealth of followers, the Moirai started believing herself to be a goddess. This angered the real gods who in their rage tried to smite the Moirai.
Seeing the fut
ure, not to mention having a true goddess for a mother, had its perks because no matter what the gods sent, she seemed to avoid it. Floods, lightning, plague, nothing touched her. Thinking herself invincible, she even ignored her mother’s warnings. In the end, the gods devised a plan for the Moirai to destroy herself. Selecting a young farmer, the gods blessed him with generous amounts of courage and strength, gave him dominion over the creatures of the land, and set him in the path of the Moirai.
When the Moirai laid eyes on this perfect human, it declared the man hers. But the human, content with his life and already having everything he could want, turned his back on her. No matter the traps or demands she made, the human continued to defy her will. One night the Moirai witnessed the human taking another woman into his arms and she flew into a rage. Flying down from her mountain fortress, the Moirai tore into her rival, thinking of nothing but claiming what she believed to be hers and hers alone.
Because he was in love, the human tried to stop the enraged demigoddess. Grabbing her by the arms, he wrenched the Moirai away from his love, but his gods-given strength was too much and he tore her arms from her shoulders.
Lying in a pool of her own blood, the Moirai called out to her mother, begging for help. The goddess, refusing to let her daughter die, stepped in to save her. Using her arms, she fashioned two new bodies into which she placed an equal portion of her daughter’s power, hoping to calm the angered gods. To animate the bodies, she took her daughter’s soul, tore it in three, and placed the torn parts in the new bodies. Thus, one creature became three, and with the power split between three minds, the Moirai could never challenge the might of the gods.
Bella shuddered. One body or three, the Fates were still incredibly powerful. Even from where she stood, energy radiated off the three in waves that made her think of reconsidering even speaking to them.
Taking a breath to calm her nerves, she started across the floor, winding her way through club-goers as they hovered next to their drinks. Doing her best not to bump into people and failing, she was interrupted in her progress when she bounced off a wall of muscles so solid she would have had an easier time strolling through the side of the building.
“Eh. Was ist das?” rumbled the creature in a deep bass voice that sent a shiver up her spine. The German accent aside, Bella recognized the creature she’d run into. Though they were not common, Mountain Dwarves were not rare in cities. Something in metal called to them in ways it was hard to describe, so they came to cities to work in the steel industry. It was said that, back in the early days of the automobile, Ford used them almost exclusively because of their affinity with metal.
“Oh,” Bella said, trying to get up off the floor. The crowd of people standing around and ignoring her didn’t make it easy.
“Ah. Zorry,” the dwarf replied, holding out a gnarled hand to help. Grasping it, Bella marveled at both the strength and how smooth and supple it was. As scarred as the hand was, it was still the hand of an artist. “Here. Let me get you anozzer drink.”
“I’m… No, that’s okay. I’m not drinking. I’m just trying to meet with someone. It’s my fault, I should have been looking where I was going.” She was careful not to imply she hadn’t seen him there. Dwarves could be touchy about their height.
“Nonsense. Ve all come for a drink.” The dwarf laughed and, reaching up and over the edge of the table next to him, pulled down a steel mug. Bella’s eyes almost popped when she saw the little paper umbrella sticking out of the top.
“No, I couldn’t, really,” she protested over the pounding of the music. She didn’t want to be in the club any longer than she had to, and getting caught up in a drinking contest with a dwarf was always a bad idea.
The dwarf frowned as if she had insulted him.
“But,” she said, thinking as quickly as she could, “you’d be my hero if you could help me get over there.” She pointed toward the VIP entrance. “I’m supposed to meet my friends and I’m already late.” She hated playing the damsel-in-distress card, but if it got her where she needed to go, well, she’d beat herself up for it later.
The dwarf’s frown shifted into a smile, and without a second glance it turned and began pushing its way through the crowd. Pushing was, as far as Bella was concerned, the nicest way of describing it. The dwarf cut through the crowd like the bow of a ship through calm water and gave the people in front of him about the same choice of moving as the water. Most people were smart enough to just step aside, but the few not paying attention were shoved out of the way, regardless. Even the angriest of the people forced out of the way quieted as they saw the dwarf. Resistant to magic and strong enough to twist the head off a person without breaking a sweat, dwarves were not what a sane person wanted to fight, at least not without an army to help. Following the wake of their passing were a few shouts and muttered curses, but the club’s music quickly drowned them out.
Reaching the VIP section, Bella thanked the dwarf, assuring him she could do the rest on her own. The dwarf gave a half bow and disappeared into the crowd.
The area roped off for VIPs was a small section containing three semicircular couches with a short table each. A short man with a gleaming bald head stood guard at the entrance, opening the rope only for a waitress and those whom he knew belonged in the exclusive spot. When Bella approached, mustering all the courage she had, hoping to fake her way through the velvet ropes, the guard didn’t even blink before shaking his head and waving her off. For a short moment she considered trying to intimidate him with a bit of magic, but in a place filled with magical creatures, anything she did would be less than a drop of water in an ocean.
Deciding on a more direct route, Bella walked along the edge of the rope until she stood across from the Moirai, all three of whom were dancing with each other as though they didn’t have a care in the world. From this distance, she could see that, unlike the myths having grown around the triumvirate, the Moirai appeared to be identical. None looked any older or younger than the other. Though centuries old, there was no sign of the power they possessed, nor did they look as if time had even noticed them. Blond hair with identical red streaks, the women were lithe and sinuous in the way that almost all teenage girls are. And just like teenage girls, they seemed to possess boundless energy as they moved to the pounding beats of the club’s music.
“Excuse me,” Bella yelled, trying to make herself heard over the music. Either her attempt was unsuccessful, or the three were ignoring her, because they continued dancing without pause. “Excuse me, I said.” The girls continued dancing.
Reaching out to tap the nearest girl, she jerked her hand back as an arc of electricity jumped from the rope to strike at her. Numbness spread from the tips of fingers all the way to her elbow. Clutching her arm to her chest, she breathed deeply until the numbness passed. She should have known the Club would have warded the VIP section and, chastising herself for not having done so before getting shocked, she opened her sight to examine the magic.
To her amusement, the runes embedded in the rope were almost identical to the ones she’d used to ward both her apartment and the soup kitchen. For a place as exclusive as Club Luna, she would have imagined they’d use something more. At the very least, the club owners should use a spell not familiar to every hedge witch in the country. Of course, since they probably weren’t expecting hedge witches in their club, the owners would have been more concerned with saving money than anything else. As it was, making a hole in the barrier was almost child’s play for Bella.
Reaching across the velvet rope, this time without the bonus of being shocked by it, she snagged the shirt of the nearest Moirai.
It was almost as if someone had flipped a switch for the three women. Each one froze in place with their eyes bursting into a bright white while their blond hair whipped about them in an unfelt breeze. As one they turned their attention toward Bella. When their gazes settled on her, Bella felt as though her entire life was laid open before them, and she was being judged for every thought
and action she’d ever had or taken. For the first time in her life, she wished she’d had the time to do a little more good in the world.
In less than a moment, the brightness from their eyes disappeared. The great pressure weighing her down lifted as if it had never been, and to her immense relief, the club music crashed into her once again. She hadn’t even realized she’d stopped hearing it.
As though Bella had never existed, the Moirai returned to dancing with each other, something Bella was grateful for while at the same time feeling somewhat annoyed. Her annoyance won out.
“Excuse me,” she said, though this time she made no move to reach across the velvet rope. “Excuse me.”
“Ugh,” said the middle of the three.
“She’s still…” said the first.
“Here,” said the third.
As if they were still part of the same body, the three women spoke with the same Valley Girl voice with identical tones and inflections.
“I’m sorry, but I—” began Bella, but was interrupted.
“We know why you’re here,” said the first.
“And we can see what you’re looking for,” said the second.
“And we think you’re an idiot,” said the third.
Bella blinked. “I’m sorry, say again, please.”
“And she’s deaf too,” said the third to her companions, each of whom laughed.
Heat crept up Bella’s neck, and her cheeks started to flush at the insults. Losing her temper here would not be a good idea, especially around beings old enough to have witnessed the creation of the wheel.
“I just need some help,” she said, trying to keep her voice under control.
As one, the three women sighed and dropped onto their couch like puppets with strings cut. It was, in Bella’s opinion, very creepy watching all three of the women doing everything in unison. All three reached for their champagne glasses simultaneously, took a sip, and set them down again. Whatever magic controlled the Moirai seemed to affect the world around them as well. Only two of the glasses landed on the table. The third hovered in the air an inch from the edge as though it had expanded to support it.
