Authors: J.A. Pitts
“Soon I will take what is rightfully mine,” he crooned to her. “We will rise up and rule together. First, I will bring forth your greatness; then, I shall transform to match you. It is only a matter of time.” He chuckled. “And the death of a dragon or two.”
Overhead, the doves continued their lazy circling of the room, their dead eyes seeing nothing, their broken necks askew.
Twenty-nine
I
tossed and turned through most of the night.
T
here was something niggling the back of my brain, some avenue I hadn’t pursued. The talk I’d had with Skella came to mind, the way she and her grandmother were so sure that Gletts was out there somewhere, waiting to come home.
I woke with a start. Of course, how had I been so dense? I had a way to go exploring on my own. I’d done it before, even if I was too out of control to really have a handle on things.
Sure enough, the answer was clear. All I had to do was go walkabout. Shy of being hammered, or poisoned, I had no real idea how to get there again, but I was willing to bet Skella’s grandmother may have a clue. Ancient elf, lived for years under a dragon without being caught. She had to know something about it, being all magical and stuff. At least, Katie figured she was. What the hell did I know, really? If I could figure this out, maybe I could get out and talk to Qindra, scout the place out in Chumstick. Take some action instead of sitting on my ass and feeling useless.
I called Skella.
“Hey, girlfriend,” she said, as soon as she picked up.
“Hey,” I replied. Girlfriend I wasn’t sure about, but whatever. “I need to talk to your grandmother, I think.”
Skella laughed. “Seriously? She’s not touching a cell phone. She hates modern technology.”
Great. “Okay, I need to talk to her, all the same. Could I come visit, maybe?”
“Let me check with her and get back to you,” she offered. “She’s over with Gletts right now.”
“Call me back.”
“’Kay.”
I nuked the leftover coffee and took out my knitting. My hand had improved dramatically from the dragon-fire injury in May. I could probably get away without the physical therapy the knitting provided, but I was beginning to like it. I was working on a hat now. I’d given away three scarves. Well, Julie had taken the first two to stop me from trashing ’em. Katie asked for the third one. It was sweet.
“Ready?” Skella asked.
I looked up to see her climbing through the mirror in the hallway. “You should bring the knitting,” she suggested. “Might put Gran at ease. You’re a little high energy for her.”
“Let me finish this,” I said, counting off the completed row. I packed the yarn and needles into my knitting bag and got my jacket. “Did she say anything when you told her I wanted to speak with her?”
Skella shrugged. “No, but she’s still willing to talk.”
“Great. Let me text Katie, tell her where I’m going in case something comes up.”
Five minutes later, we were walking through the woods of Stanley Park.
“Any change in Gletts?”
She shrugged and dug her hands deeper into her jeans. “One of the others died last night.”
I stopped. “Damn, I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t even know his name,” she said, walking on. “Gran wasn’t sure he’d come back to us, in any case. He had other problems.”
We broke through the tree line and into the village they kept hidden from the outside world. Skella lived with her grandmother in a house that ran into the side of a hillock. There was plenty of room for guests, as I’d discovered.
But we were heading to the common house, almost a longhouse from old Norse culture. Only this one was a place of healing and peace. Several people watched us as we crossed the open spaces, some smiled and waved, but most watched us, well, me, suspiciously. Strangers rarely brought them anything but pain.
Inside the building I found most of the pallets set up in the middle of the great room still held the wounded. Family and friends tended to them. Those physically wounded had all gone back to their lives, but those who had suffered spiritual damage battling the ghosts and wraiths remained. They were whole, unscathed to the naked eye, but their spirits had been damaged, some severely. Riven from their bodies, Skella’s grandmother, Unun, had explained.
“Their spirits will find their way home,” she’d assured me when we first arrived after the battle. “He’s a good boy. He’ll come back to us.”
She meant Gletts, of course. Skella’s brother and her grandson. He’d fallen protecting Skella, Katie, Melanie, and Ari as they tried to escape the battle.
A spirit in the form of a
Tyrannosaurus rex
had attacked him. He saved the others but fell, his spirit damaged or fled.
I bowed when I stood before Unun. She bathed Gletts, wiping down his lithe limbs with a gentle touch.
“You needed something from me?” she asked, not taking her attention from her grandson.
“Knowledge,” I answered. “I would ask if you could help me understand something, some magic I wish to perform willfully.”
She glanced at me, then to Skella. “What do you know of this, Granddaughter?”
“Nothing,” she said. “She’s my friend. She asked to speak to you, but she did not go into details as to why. I expect that she has a good reason for seeking answers.”
Unun studied her a moment more, then turned her gaze upon me. “It is rare that one of your race has a need for what you call magic that goes beyond seeking power or revenge.”
Except for Qindra and Justin, I didn’t know anyone else who used magic. I’d have to take her word for it. “Fair enough. Let me explain what I need and you can decide if you deem me worthy of your time.”
She nodded, motioning Skella to take her place at Gletts’s side.
Skella moved there and raised her eyebrows at me once she was behind Unun. I smiled and diverted my attention to the old elf.
“Walk with me,” Unun said.
We left the building and walked around to a large garden full of covered beds. Harvest had been a month earlier, and the soil had been tilled and covered for the spring planting.
“You saved us and have been kind to my granddaughter,” she began. “But I am not pleased with the cell phone you have given her, nor the method of her employment with you and your clan.”
Blunt enough. “We are protecting the world from the same spirits that wounded Gletts.” It was mostly true. Protecting seemed a bit of a stretch. More like watching so we could react if something happened.
She thought on this a moment and nodded. “We will set that aside for now. Tell me of this magic you seek.”
We walked among the orderly garden, and I told her of the times I’d gone walkabout. I didn’t sugarcoat any of it, but left out the parts that didn’t matter, like how I’d gotten myself into trouble with a couple of rough cowboys. But I explained how I’d been dog drunk the first time I went astral. Then I explained about the time Skella and Gletts came to our hotel room, having poisoned Katie and me. Finally, I ended up with Anezka’s place, the house of horrors, where I’d been sucked from my body and down to the hidden cavern.
“You see,” I said. “Each time, I’d been influenced by other things. I want to go walkabout on purpose. I think if I can learn this, I can cleanse the ley line that runs under Chumstick. This is a good thing, right? Better for all of us.” It would also allow me to free Qindra and stop the house from being a collector for horrible energy. Somehow, I knew Justin was going to use that like a battery to perform some significant magic that we would all regret.
“I may be able to help you,” Unun said. She had her hands folded in front of her as she walked, looking totally like a monk or something. She exuded peace and tranquility. I, on the other hand, must have glowed like a roman candle.
“Let us go back to the infirmary and gather some herbs we’ll be needing,” she said. “We are familiar with a similar magic. One not unlike how Skella and Gletts travel the mirrors.”
I hadn’t put the connection together quite that way, but it was an interesting thought. We walked around the garden one last time. I tried to keep my thoughts mellow, my actions cool, but I was anxious, jumpy. If I could make this work … holy crap. This could change things, big time.
When we finally walked back to the infirmary I was about out of my head with anticipation.
“This will take awhile,” Unun said. “And I would appreciate it if you were not here while I work. Your presence agitates me.”
Wow, that was harsh.
“How long do you need?” Skella asked.
“A few hours. You are as bad as she is,” Unun said. “I will be done when I am done. One cannot rush this type of thing. Honestly, do either of you ever breathe?”
Skella grinned at me as Unun worked her way through the infirmary. She spoke with everyone she passed, even placed her hands on the wounded, giving each a moment’s concentration, praying maybe.
“Come on,” Skella said when she noticed I was fretting over the delay. “Let’s go someplace else.”
“I thought you had to stay with Gletts,” I said.
“Oh, right.” She pouted, the young girl she really was coming through the goth makeup and the stoic demeanor.
“I’ll call Rolph,” I suggested. “See about meeting him for dinner somewhere. Then I’ll come back here. Sound okay?”
It was early. Likely Rolph wouldn’t be able to go out for a couple more hours, but Unun had an air about her that told me she was not rushing anything. Partly to teach me a lesson, I was fairly sure.
“I’ll call you when I’m done. That okay?”
She shrugged. “Sure. I’ll just go back to singing to Gletts. He seems to like it.”
She had a lovely voice. I’d heard her sing on several occasions. I stood to the side as she began a quiet tune of coming home. I let myself out, crossed the village and went into the woods where I’d entered on several previous occasions. I could leave, but I’d need a guide to get back.
By the time I’d made my way out to the edge of Stanley Park it was getting closer to dark.
Rolph was finally over his flu and agreed to meet me for dinner. He gave me the name of a local Thai place he liked, and I grabbed a cab. I hadn’t seen the guy in a few months. And with Juanita down in Bellingham with her sister, I bet he needed some company about now.
Thirty
R
olph and
I
weren’t exactly friends in the truest since. He had tried to wound me once. I’d have said kill, but I had the feeling if he meant me dead, I’d be dead. The sword Gram was his obsession. Had been since he’d reforged it several hundred years ago as a child, after the dragon we know as Frederick Sawyer had wiped out his village back in the old country. These days it’s called Sweden.
Rolph had quested for Gram ever since it left his possession. I had no idea how he’d lost it. When he’d forged it from the shards of the original sword he’d done a bad job. The blade had not been as strong as it should have been and the magic—the spirit—hadn’t been there.
Not until I reforged it this past spring. While I’d repaired the physical blade, I’d somehow managed to imbue it with the magic it had once possessed. Gram was a dragon-slaying blade, and she’d claimed me more than I’d claimed her.
Rolph was jealous. He coveted Gram beyond reason. Of course he wanted to kill Frederick Sawyer for killing his family. But there was also the fact that he was a dwarf and dwarves covet things of power. It was in their nature.
He was better than some dwarves I’d met, so in the end he managed to fight his instincts. He respected my smithing and weapon skills, especially after I’d killed the dragon Jean-Paul. So we were at a truce: common enemies, common obsessions. Enemy of my enemy and all that.
He was a good guy, overall. I just wouldn’t trust him with the family jewels.
The Thai place was packed, but they turned the tables quickly. We got a place in the back, and he ordered beers for us. I’d never had Thai beer, but he knew what to order.
The meal was delicious and the beer adequate, if a little too light for my taste. We settled back and ordered a third round of beers while we exchanged news.
While he was seriously worried about Juanita, she was doing well. It was sweet to see him fuss about it. He even had pictures of her on his cell phone. The six months or so since she and Rolph had been together had been good for her. She looked thinner and oh so much happier than when she was hanging out with the actor JJ as one of his three regular hookups. Here she had one man’s attention and seemed to have blossomed for it.
“You’re going to be a papa,” I said, holding my beer up to toast him. “May you have a happy and healthy family.”
We clinked bottles, and he drained his in one long pull. “Skoal,” he said when he slammed the empty bottle onto the table.
Rolph had been my first “other” friend. He came out to me in the spring, let me know that he was a dwarf, helped me forge the sword. He had all kinds of inside knowledge into this world. No reason not to pump him for info on the whole astral-project thing.
He was patient, listened to me ramble about the other times, some I’d discussed with him before, but he let me find my way through the telling. Helped sometimes, repeating things, finding connections.