Forceful Justice (46 page)

“May we have a room? We're tired and have been riding all day,” Freja asked the innkeeper, whose low hanging jowls gave them impression of a jolly fat man. He smiled with a twinkle in his green eyes as he handed them the key. Their room consisted a window along the south wall, where the lights from the town gave the entire room an amber glow. There was a sadness to the scene, as Freja walked to the bathroom and shut the door with a soft click, leaving Elsa in the room alone. There were two twin beds centered in the room, with two matching dressers on the east and west sides of the room. Elsa sat on the edge of the bed to dress into her sleeping gown, rubbing the sores from her feet. She sat there for a minute, giving herself a massage, and thought about what happened in the diner today. The image of poor, frail Freja trying her best to ward off the insults and hatred from the crowd truly upset Elsa. She worried if Freja had encountered similar episodes in the past and whether her status as a single woman with no children was any result of her past. She wanted to ask Freja about her life, for Elsa's own sake, so she could rest a little easier knowing Freja at least had someone to keep her companionship into her old age. But at the same time, Freja may become upset at Elsa's prodding into her private life. After some consideration, Elsa decided that was a risk she was willing to take. Just then Freja stepped out of the bathroom; in the darkness the amber glow through the window illuminated only half her face, casting shadow over the other half. Elsa looked at her for a moment, studying the contours of her nose and wrinkles which traveled down like estuaries of a canyon, disappearing into the corners of her mouth and eyes, hiding a long and secret history. Elsa took a breath.

“Freja I have to ask you something.”

Freja pretended that she had not spent the last twenty minutes crying in the bathroom, as she turned her back to Elsa to rummage through her bag. “Shoot from the hip girlie.”

“Have you ever--had a relationship?”

“Have I ever been with anyone, you mean?”

“No not just that. Have you--have you ever been in love?”

Freja stopped rummaging for a second, then turned to face Elsa. “Why do you ask?” She stepped closer to Elsa, perhaps too quickly given the air of the conversation, and Elsa's core felt a curious predatory vibe emanating from Freja's eyes.

“Well you seemed pretty upset back there.”

“You talkin' 'bout those punks at the diner? Nah, sister. I done forgot all about them.”

“I don't believe you,” Elsa smiled, trying to lighten the mood between them and maybe encourage Freja to trust her a little more. Elsa truly wanted to help her.

Freja looked at Elsa, scanning her face to determine whether she could trust her. “OK. Yeah, I was upset.”

“I knew it!”

“But what can you do? It's over and done with. It's not the first time it's happened. Those guys are just jealous of my sex kitten status,” she laughed and looked at Elsa while dancing around the bed, like a magical fairy in the woods. Elsa watched her twirl around the room, then Freja stopped and went back to rummaging in her bag.

“Well why haven't you tried finding someone, then?”

“Honey, it's not my job to find him. It's his job to find me.”

“Don't you get lonely at your age, with no friends or family or spouse to spend your time with?”

“Of course I do. But I haven't found the right person, that's all. I've only ever loved one guy, to be honest. My one great love; we were inseparable. When I was in grade school, I was always skinnier than the other girls. I was also not the prettiest girl, but I did have the biggest heart. I knew what it felt like to be left out, at lunch time, on the playground when I was very little. And later, I knew what it felt like to be rejected romantically when all the other girls got the upper hand because they had bigger boobs or curvier figures. The thing is,” she laughed, thinking back, “I was so convinced they knew something I didn't about relationships. I was just certain they had some access to a secret circle about what love was--true, passionate love. And then I met Kellen after I left school to work on the farm with my grandfather. He started out as a farmhand, working to pay off some debt of his family, and I'll never forget seeing him for the first time. We were picking cotton in a field, and it was windy. There were specks of cotton floating in the air, hovering, just like magic. It was the most romantic thing,” she said.

“I bet,” Elsa said.

“He was strong as an ox, girl. He had the most beautiful back, which I could see because always had his shirt off. I remember thinking the first time we made love, what did he see in me? I was the unloved, the left out, skinny girl from school. Eventually he told me there was just something about me he connected to, and I believed him. Oh, I was so in love,” she stopped, tears welling in her eyes.

“Well, where is he?”

“Well he turned out to be someone other than what I thought.”

“What did he do?”

Freja laughed out loud. “He murdered my grandfather.” Elsa's stomach hit the floor upon hearing Freja's confession. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out, as she didn't know what to say. Freja continued to look down at the floor for long moment, long enough to make Elsa wonder if she were about to break down. Elsa put a hand on Freja's shoulder and noticed that she was shaking again, trembling.

“I know I told you that everyone ran my grandfather out of town, because they thought he dabbled in black magic. The truth is that I made that up because I didn't want you to feel sorry for me. The truth is that my grandfather was the man who raised me and the only person I ever knew growing up. He was the model for how to be a decent human being. In fact he was the best person I've ever known, and I strive everyday to be just like him.”

“I can't believe Kellen did that to you. Why?”

“Money. My grandfather had tons of money, and instead of paying his debt, he would rather have killed my guardian.” Freja sighed, remembering the past pain she'd endured. “You have no idea what it's like to lose someone so close to you, because they were taken away by the one other person you thought you could trust.”

“I--I am sorry you have to go through that. I wish I could have been there for you.”

Elsa sat there speechless, unable to touch Freja in her sorrow. “My grandfather was the kindest, gentlest person I ever knew. I thought I knew Kellen, but I was wrong, and since then, I decided no one would ever hurt me like that again. I've stayed away from the other Kellens of the world. That's why I've been alone,” she said, her eyes looking up to the heavens from the window, as if she were looking for her deceased grandfather in the sky.

Elsa thought she should lighten the mood. “If I had my way, we would gather up all the horrible people in the world and put them in a cage to poke with a stick!” she said.

“I'd do more than that. I'd kill them. There's no saving those kinds of people, Elsa. The world would be a better place with them gone,” she said. “Me, I am different from those types. There's no point even bothering with them,” Freja said.

“I agree, Freja.” Elsa hugged her, anxious to make the woman who seemed to have suffered so much feel at least a little better. There was one thing Elsa hated more than anything: people taking advantage of the innocent. Her heart broke for Freja, and she vowed never to become anything like Kellen, not just because he was a murderer, but almost as bad, he betrayed Freja's trust, when she gave her whole heart. Elsa could see the sheer damage the experience had been for Freja, and how it had permanently altered her ability to trust anyone or believe she was worth being loved or cared for. The experience followed her into adulthood, contaminating her whole life and robbing her of any semblance of happiness. Freja, Elsa realized, was still that abused teenager from long ago, stuck in the same patterns, her innocence shattered forever. The thought made Elsa sick to her stomach.

For the first time, it seemed like Freja could trust Elsa, and it showed in her eyes. Smiling, Freja opened her grandfather's spell book. “I want to show you something,” she said. She opened the book to a clean page with an ornate design on the front, half of which was dark and the other half light.

“I do not have my grandfather's abilities, but he always told me there are good witches and there are bad witches. A bad witch cannot become a good one, and vice versa. The trouble, though, is that no one knows which warlock or witch you are dealing with. He also said that anyone could do magic, you just had believe in what you were doing. If a normal person were a good enough person, when trying to save someone, say, there were certain spells they could use to save the person they loved, or to protect themselves from other, evil witches.”

Elsa looked down at the page Freja had opened the book to. It was full of symbols which she didn't understand, but the center of the page had what appeared to be a small poem. Elsa pointed to the text. “What's that?”

“So my grandfather laid out the one spell a normal person could use in ordinary speech, whereas real witches and warlocks speak in an unknown tongue to cast their spells, if they even speak at all when they cast spells.”

“Have you ever tried this on someone? What does it do?”

“When my grandfather was murdered I tried this spell he showed me, in order to bring him back from the dead, but it didn't work. And honestly I don't know what is supposed to happen. This book is all I have left of him, so I keep it safe with me.” She reached into the book and tore out the page.

“Oh my gosh,” Elsa said. “What are you doing?”

“I want you to have this,” Freja said. Elsa's eyes opened wide and large.

“There's no way. This was your grandfather's! You can't give me this!”

“I can and will. You might need it. Besides, I have a whole book of spells right here in my grandfather's book.” Freja patted the book as she closed it, like a puppy she would always keep by her side.

“Yeah--a book you can't use!” Elsa said.

“You don't know that. Maybe there's something in it that might help me down the line. My grandfather was always full of unexpected things. I guess it's where I get it.”

“Well thank you so much. I really appreciate this Freja,” Elsa said, as she gave the woman a hug. She stopped for a second, realizing something. “I have just one question. Why would I need this?”

“Well that's the other thing I was going to tell you.”

“Oh Lord,” Elsa said, bracing herself for the weight of another confession.

“This world is not the only one there is, Elsa. You probably know this already, based on what you have told me about Theo. Most people don't see the alternate world of magic. They are either too dense, too unimaginative, or too wrapped up themselves to notice. when we were kids we all knew about it, because we were open to experiences that adults close themselves off to. That space between dreams and awake, that middle ground, that's where you can find the magic. There is a danger though, when you dream, that you might go too far into the other world. If you are not a witch or warlock, it will change you, permanently. In this world, if you stay when you really should leave, everything is backward or upside down. Up becomes down. North becomes South. And Good becomes Evil--”

“Is there where Theo is?”

“I don't know but--”

Suddenly the realization hit Elsa that, if Freja's grandfather was dead, where exactly was she leading Elsa? Freja cackled.

“I know what you must be thinking. If my grandfather was murdered, who exactly is it we are going to see?” Elsa nodded. “Well the truth is that my grandfather showed me all throughout my childhood what he could do with magic. I myself did not inherit his gifts, but there is someone else who might be able to help you.”

Elsa was somewhat nervous. “Who is it?” she asked.

“An old friend. He's a dragon, very old and very wise. He has been around for several centuries, as my grandfather told me about him. And I thought maybe he can help you.”

“What if Theo is gone forever? I don't think I would be able to survive that.”

“I can't answer that for you. But I want to warn you that if we meet my friend, you must follow my every step and direction. There is a cave on the farthest coast of our land, right where a cliff meets the ocean. In that case, my friend has dwelled for the last seven centuries. But in order to get to the cave, we must pass by the forest I mentioned.

“If you want any hope of finding Theo--or any hope of being able to use the spell I gave you--you must remain a good, decent person. You must make the right choice as stay as far away from the Forbidden Forest as you can. Do you understand what I am telling you?”

“Of course,” Elsa said.

“Good, because we must pass right by the Forest on our way to the my dragon friend's cave. The tree line runs right alongside it. The closer we get the more you will feel its pull. It will call to you, lie to you, make you believe things which just aren't true. It wants more than anything for you to walk right into the trees and be lost forever. You must resist the temptation. Promise me!”

“OK I promise. Who made the Forbidden Forest?”

“No one knows. Who made the moon? It's just part of nature, and it always has been around, I guess.”

“Did your grandfather ever tell you why it had no effect on witches or warlocks?”