And now, she was getting married to Hammond York. The ex-Puretide pyromancer whom I’d saved from zombification by cutting off his arm.
That seemed a lifetime ago. Hammond and I had not started out on the best of terms. He was arrogant, obnoxious, ageist and just a bit sexist. But, that was a façade. Underneath, he was as loyal as they came. But, he didn’t pull his punches. He told me exactly what I needed to hear. I appreciated that.
And now, Heather and Hammond were getting married. In a way, it seemed too soon. They seemed too young. But, Hammond had been married once before. And Heather was older than me, despite her behaviour to the contrary.
Maybe, that made it okay. But then I thought about Brett, and the apartment we had together, and I wondered…
“Last Light? Is that really you?” a tentative voice shook me out of my reverie.
I looked towards the voice. Saw nothing. Then looked down.
Coming up to my calf muscle, with small pointed ears and big, excited eyes, was a gnome. A girl gnome, wearing her pink hair in pigtails, and clothed in a tiny pair of denim overalls.
I resisted cocking my head to confirm that she was real.
Hope City had all manner of non-human inhabitants. I made a living killing many of them. Well, re-killing many. Most of my prey were undead. But, even so, it was seldom that one saw one of the fae, even gnomes, in a coffee shop. Much less that you’d meet a child of the fair folk.
I shifted my body to face the gnome child. The other Crusaders went silent, watching me and the gnome.
My mind was still stuck on the dark spirit from the warehouse, but I had a duty to fulfil. That of Hope City’s Last Light. So, I steeled myself, banished the darkness, and put on my best, celebrity smile.
I felt Treth nod in approval.
“Yep! I am. The Last Light, at your service. What’s your name?”
She glanced away. Hesitation. She’d possibly thought my presence here was too good to be true.
“El…Elri,” she finally answered, her voice faint. Her eyes glimmered. Violet.
With all my calluses, emotional distance and sullenness, I had to restrain myself from picking this little girl up and putting her on my lap. A feeling I usually only reserved for Alex.
Hey! I’m not just a hunter. I’ve got a heart too. And, it seems that fae children are cute enough to even melt the ice around my snow queen heart.
I leant closer to the child, slowly.
“What can I do for you, Elri?”
She was silent, as she tried to remember what she had been planning to do. It seemed that starstruck gnome kids were the same as starstruck humans. I was used to waiting. And, of all my fans, I minded kids the least.
It took a terrible person to want to disappoint a child.
Eventually, Elri took something out of the front pocket of her denim overalls. A little notepad. Pink with a floral pattern.
She offered it up to me with her two little arms, straining to try to make up for the distance.
“Could you please…give me your autograph, Ms Last Light?”
“Of course, Elri.” I leant down effortlessly and retrieved the tiny notebook. Elri didn’t offer a pen or pencil. I didn’t expect her too. Gnomes were fae. And, while pens were not typically made of iron or steel, they were still manufactured of plastic. Nature fae typically had an aversion to plastic. Unless, of course, you were an Ironwing pixie. In that case, plastic was just another element to use to torment your landlords.
I patted my pockets for a pen and stopped as Ismail held one out to me. I nodded my thanks and began scrawling my autograph.
“To Elri. Stay strong. There’s always light in the dark.”
Conrad and Jane had helped me come up with the slogan. Fans seemed to like it. Treth did too. But he was always one for cheesiness.
I handed Elri the notebook and noted that her stare was fixed on my coat. It was currently crackling faintly, like a contented fire.
I grinned. “Do you want to touch it?”
“Won’t…won’t it burn me?”
“Only if you’re a bad guy.”
Elri pouted. “I’m not a bad guy!”
“Then you’ll be fine.”
I offered my sleeve. Hesitantly, Elri reached out to touch it. Hovered her hand. Recoiled. Then hovered it closer. Closer. Until she was stroking the fiery scales. To the eye, it looked as if she had put her hand on hot coals. But she did not burn.
A beam slowly formed across her face, as my coat purred in delight. The salamander within it liked kids. Perhaps, it sensed a new hatchling.
“Elri!” a voice called. She pulled her hand away and turned to the source of the voice.
“Coming mama!”
She turned back to me, bowed slightly, and hurriedly squeaked. “Thank you, Last Light. For everything.”
Elri scampered off in the direction of the kitchens. As she left, I noted that the room had been silent. The Crusaders and every other customer had been watching the exchange.
It was my turn to look embarassed as I returned to my coffee, holding the mug against my sleeve to heat it up again.
“You’re good with kids,” Cindy finally said, breaking the silence.
“Hmmm…” I replied, eloquently.
“Better than I am,” Treth added. “I’d have tried to conscript her.”
“Elri is the daughter of an old friend,” Ismail said. “And I must admit to a little bit of a conspiracy. I knew she wanted to meet you. This is why I brought you here. Her family owns this café.”
“Not every day that fae own businesses in the border-slums,” Busani interjected.
“She’s adopted,” Ismail replied. “She’s probably around fifty, but gnomes age and mature far more slowly than humans. During the Cataclysm, she was rifted here all by herself. Defenceless. The parents of her new parents found her and cared for her as one of her own. They passed away a few years back. Elri’s adopted sister became her new mother.”
“When do gnomes reach maturity?” Heather, of all people, asked.
Even Ismail looked surprised at Heather’s sudden question. She usually stayed silently in the background.
“Around 100.”
Heather’s expression sank low and dark. “But that means…she’ll outlive her sister.”
“That is the plight of immortals, I’m afraid,” Ismail smiled, sadly. “But, she is fae. She will hopefully find more of her kind. In time.”
That didn’t seem to cheer Heather up, as she returned to her coffee.
I wondered if Duer would miss me when I was gone. At least he had his kinth now. A part of me felt anxious that my death would cause him pain. But, perhaps I was just being narcissistic. If I asked him about it, he’d probably laugh and say that he didn’t have time for mourning mere mortals.
“Anyway, Kat,” Cindy continued. “You are good with kids. I didn’t expect it. But maybe…you changed after your trip.”
I snorted, as if responding to a joke, but then noted the table nodding in unison.
“How so?” I asked.
“Nicer,” Busani replied. “Ow!”
I pulled back my foot after kicking him in the shin.
“Reserved, but you’ve always been a brooder. But it seems like a deeper, more tranquil stillness” Cindy offered, trying to touch on it herself.
“You care more,” Heather offered, quietly.
“Because she knows what’s at stake,” Treth announced. Only Cindy and I could hear him.
Cindy pondered his words silently.
“Journeys have a way of changing us,” Ismail offered. “All of us. Geopolitics permitting, I think everyone here could benefit from one.”
“I went to the Three Point Line when I was fifteen,” Busani offered.
“Tried to hustle CDF troops at the border?” Kyong retorted, grinning.
I heard a buzz as Busani’s foot ricocheted against Kyong’s forcefield and then hit the table leg.
“Ow!”
“Our tumultuo
us border is a start,” Ismail continued. “But, I mean a different country. It puts things into perspective.”
Their voices became faint as I thought about Ismail’s words.
I’d been across the ocean. Seen New Sintar. A land run by elves. Elves whom I had planned to kill but ended up befriending. And, I saw them slaughtered. And, before any of that, I’d been to another world. Avathor. A dead world.
Perspective was right. But I wasn’t sure if it was a perspective I wanted.
My phone buzzed. Text message.
“Cockatrice in Muiz. Took Alex home. See you for dinner? xx”
From Brett, with a heart emoji next to his name.
I must’ve been smiling as I typed my reply, confirming dinner plans, as the table had gone silent again.
“Your smile really is that rare, Kat,” Treth offered, basically reading my mind. Invasive ghost!
“How’s Brett?” Cindy asked, grinning cheekily.
“Good, good.”
“And how’s your new apartment?”
I wasn’t going to take the bait. “Alex really likes it. He enjoys the pixies at yours, and the HQ, but he likes his quiet time as well.”
“And what about…”
“How’re things with Guy?” I interrupted, inclining my mug to drink. “Seeing that we’re speaking about kids.”
Cindy almost choked on her tea, before Heather patted her on the back.
“Shouldn’t we be asking Heather about that?” Busani asked. “Ow! Hey! Not all at once.”
We all laughed, even Busani, and soon finished our coffee before the hunt called for us once again.
***
A few zombie heads later and I was back at the HQ. Just last year, this building had been an abandoned restaurant and office. Now, it was a bustling monster hunter agency. The bottom floor housed a lab, kitchen, cold storage and a meeting ground for Crusaders that was affectionally called the Mosh Pit. Upstairs were offices, armouries, computer rooms and my office and old apartment. I kinda missed sleeping in there with Brett. Truthfully, I still kept a bed behind my desk. For the quick power nap. Hunters found time to sleep whenever we could.
Upon entering my domain, I was immediately greeted by a bunch of Crusaders wearing tactical gear. They saluted. I saluted back.
“Hunt?”
“Ghoul infestation, Commander!”
“Need any help?”
“Thank you, Commander. But we’ll be okay.”
I nodded and bid them farewell.
A year ago, I’d have balked at having such an interaction. But, I’d learnt quite a bit, it seemed. I had refused to be a leader once before. The Crusaders and my city had suffered for it. But, not anymore. Hope City needed the Crusaders. And the Crusaders needed me. So, I would oblige.
“Warning,” Treth whispered, despite no one present but me being able to hear him. “Politician, dead ahead.”
My heart skipped a beat until I realised it was only an ex-politician. Jane Phoenix. One-time Minister of Police and candidate for Chairperson of our fair republic. Now, she was the administrator and receptionist for the Crusaders.
Jane was in deep conversation with a girl with black hair who was wearing a fine black and ash-grey business dress. I barely recognised her, until she turned to me and smiled a toothy grin. Her eyes sparkled with a hint of gold.
“Kat! How do I look?” Trudie asked, as she gave a little twirl.
“Ill-suited for combat,” a voice came from behind the corner. As I passed it, I recognised Ari, the crimson-haired elf from New Sintar. She was leaning against the wall, like a bodyguard, while wearing a t-shirt with a Superman logo on the front.
Ari had become a Crusader since coming to Hope City. When she wasn’t helping my aunt with rebuilding her notes on the Sintari, she was busy killing monsters. I found that a bit sad. I knew she was War Court, but I had thought she could find something else here. But, it seemed that nature was hard to fight.
“Hey, Troodz! Looking chic. And Ari, does the S mean hope?”
Ari cocked her head, confused. “No…it’s just an S.”
Disappointed that Ari didn’t get the reference, I turned to Jane, who was beaming. That meant she was scheming.
“So, what’s the occasion? Convince Trudie that she could lose a few kilos by removing her make-up?”
“Rude!” Trudie scoffed. “I’m still wearing make-up. Just a different shade.”
“Trudie is meeting with some Councillors today to discuss the Sentience Act Amendment. Needs to look smart. Civilised. Not like the beast those dummies think werewolves are.”
“Werewolves are beasts,” Ari interjected. “Powerful, noble. Adept at war. This isn’t something to be ashamed of.”
We ignored her.
“What are our chances?” I asked.
Trudie smiled. “Good! I’m gonna charm their pants off!”
“Don’t tell Pranish that.”
“Our chances are good,” Jane continued. “The fact that they’re meeting with a werewolf at all is good. And she’ll be protected. The law might not be on her side, but she has something more powerful. Public opinion! The Rescue-Wolves of the Crusaders are famous all over the city. If they even dared insult her, we’d be able to get them impeached!”
I frowned. Jane and Trudie looked confident, but they were perpetual optimists.
“Just be careful, Troodz. Politicians are a hard bunch. Present company included. No offence.”
“None taken,” Jane replied, smile unwavering.
“Anyway,” Trudie interjected. “We best be going. Ari?”
Ari snapped to attention and followed Trudie out the door, in lockstep. Odd elf!
Before Jane and I could say another word, my phone rang, playing the sonorous war cry of Toto holding the line.
Unknown number. I frowned.
Unknown numbers were seldom a good thing. Usually, they were scammers trying to make a quick buck. Other times, they were members of the dreaded Conclave, trying to taunt me and rope me into another unpaid job fighting against their dubious conspiracies.
Curiosity won out and I decided to answer.
“Drummond!” A voice that made me immediately regret answering, spoke cheerfully. “I was hoping you’d pick up.”
“New number, Agent Brown?”
“You blocked the others.”
“I thought you’d get the message.”
“You don’t get as far as I do if you give up quickly…”
I began to hang up.
“No, no! Stop. Just hear me out.”
I sighed. Agent Phillip Brown was always the last person I wanted to talk to. First, he was a government employee. I was an anarchist. But, more than that, he had been the guy to send me on my expedition to New Sintar. He was convinced that I’d helped with the conquest against the elves. But the elves had been, for the most part, peaceful. That didn’t matter to him. He only cared about fighting the enemies of Hope City. If even that. Frankly, he annoyed me.
“You should hear him out,” Jane said. “Foreign Affairs is powerful. Could get us some good clout.”
I rolled my eyes. Conrad and Jane were a match made in Hell. All about business, clout and PR with them.
“Fine! What is it, agent?”
“Great! Thank Phoenix for me. Smart woman. I would have voted for her.”
“Cut to the chase. I’m busy.”
“I have two individuals here at the Foreign Affairs office. They want to meet you.”
“They can come to the HQ and book an appointment.”
“Oh, no. This isn’t your jurisdiction, Drummond. The nature of their business means I need to sit in on the meeting. But, they are desperate to talk to the Last Light of Hope City.”
I sighed, heavily. “Are you going to keep me in suspense for your own pleasure or to hide the fact that I really won’t want to attend this meeting?”
“Oh, you will. One of these prestigious individuals claims to have met you. And I know that you used to head u
p her fan club in high school.”
Wait…
“You mean…”
“Athena. The one and only. Back in Hope City to meet her biggest fan. But wait until you meet her companion. I’ll see you in the next half an hour.”
He didn’t wait for an answer as he put the phone down.
Chapter 3.
Gods
The Hope City Ministry of Foreign Affairs was the type of building that gave 20th century architects a bad name. A towering monolith of jagged concrete dotted with windows that were permanently closed and curtained. Positively dystopian. Spikes adorned the sill of every window. Not to stop anything like drakes or criminals, mind you. This was purely to spite the birds. I didn’t know why. A little bit of bird excrement could have done wonders for this building’s lack of paint.
If not for the diversely coloured array of people lining up to enter the building, I’d have thought the world had gone grey. Would it kill them to give this monstrosity a lick of colour?
I’m sure some people liked the design of this building. But, those people were wrong.
I entered the queue of motley characters snaking its way outside onto the lively Old Town streets and was immediately spotted by one of the inevitable Whiteshield agents that guarded such government buildings. While Riaan and other pundits liked to argue against the privatisation of monster hunting, they didn’t seem to mind that every government building was guarded by a crack squad of highly paid mercenaries.
“Ms Drummond?” the Whiteshield agent asked. At the question, a few people in the queue started chatting excitedly, as they stared. I didn’t blush, but inwardly swore.
I’d left my coat at the HQ to avoid this very attention. I didn’t mind signing autographs, most of the time, but Agent Brown had put me in a foul mood.
I slowly nodded, hoping that I wouldn’t draw a crowd. Fortunately, the decisiveness of Whiteshield beat out the desperation of fans, as the merc put out his arm to block an onlooker and indicated for me to follow.
“I don’t know why you keep lining up,” Treth said, as the Whiteshield agent escorted me past the muttering line of people towards the front. “You’re always brought to the front anyway.”
Cursed Earth (Kat Drummond Book 12) Page 2
