Seth summed up the day’s events and concluded his life had been better before Lelani entered it.
This morning, he had been a photographer with a home, friends, and a job. Now, his home and job were gone, his roommate was dead, and none of his friends wanted anything to do with him. His life was in danger, he was fleeing a crime scene, leaving behind a decapitated cop and an abundance of his own blood, hair, and scraped skin all over the combat zone. Add to that, he was riding on a city bus with an unconscious police officer kidnapped from the crime scene and a woman who, among other things, refused to ever sit down.
Even now, she stood in the open corner reserved for wheelchairs, despite plenty of available seats. The driver and few passengers were oddly oblivious to Officer MacDonnell propped up on the bench, even after Lelani carried him aboard slung over her shoulder.
Seth nearly jumped out of his skin when the cop’s radio blared, “Officer MacDonnell, please respond!” The few passengers in the bus looked around for the sound. Lelani searched the radio for the off button. The radio blared again and Seth jumped in to turn it off for her.
Seth stood up and began to pace.
“Stay close to me,” Lelani said.
Seth wanted anything but to stay close to her. It was hard for him to believe that just a few hours earlier he had entertained notions of shooting her for a centerfold; that she would be his ticket to the big time like Playboy or Maxim. The longer he stayed with her, the more things unraveled. She was getting weirder by the hour. Earlier, she had insisted they wait until post-rush hour before taking the subway to the Bronx, citing lack of space in the cars. Then, she would only stand in the area between the port and starboard doors because the seats were “too thin.” At 110th Street, a group of Hispanic teens came aboard and began making catcalls at all the young women. Seth had suggested moving into the next car. She refused. They continued harassing girls down the line until they came to Lelani. The tallest of them only reached her shoulders, but they had numbers. After one of them ran his finger down her arm, Lelani put her hand up, palm facing the hooligans, and in a foreign tongue, sang a verse from the most beautiful lullaby Seth had ever heard. The youths fell asleep where they stood, piled atop each other. The car erupted in applause. Lelani had spotted a baseball bat sticking out from under one of the teenagers’ coats and handed it to Seth; a bad omen.
The bat! Seth remembered. He had left it at the crime scene; add another set of fingerprints for the forensics experts.
He studied the bus passengers: an old Hispanic woman in a maid’s smock, a teenage couple making out, a tired construction worker, and a mother with her young daughter. None of them paid him any attention despite his overt gaze. It was as though he weren’t there.
Lelani touched the rubber strip that signaled a stop request. The bus pulled over at the next stop, but nobody got up. Seth saw the driver searching the rearview mirror for someone getting off. After a moment, he resumed the route.
Seth watched her study the advertisements as the bus headed up Pelham Parkway. The babies were in at the Bronx Zoo, demonstrated by the bronzed webbed baby shoes of some exotic bird; Dr. Rajashkharappa guaranteed he could end your foot pain for only sixty dollars; and the language institute could teach immigrants English in only six months, provided they could read the ad to begin with.
Lelani hit the rubber strip again, and seemed amused by the sound of the bell. Seth studied her and realized a change in himself. Through her eyes everything took on a fresh perspective, as though the most obvious things were new and exotic. Sometimes she came off like a genius. But earlier, they had passed a street construction site and the pipes and wires beneath the street had enthralled her. “Everything flows here,” she had said. Her outlook forced Seth to reconsider things he’d often taken for granted. Although a novel feeling, it wasn’t worth going to prison for. Now, Seth needed a place to stay until he could sort out the mess that had become his life. Beyond that, he couldn’t care less if he ever saw her again.
“Please signal a stop,” Lelani asked.
Seth slapped the strip.
As before, Lelani effortlessly picked up Officer MacDonnell and carried him off the bus. The driver shouted for whoever to “Cut that out!”
Lelani handed a fold-out transit map of New York to Seth.
“Find Mayflower Avenue,” she said.
Seth pointed the way.
They passed Italian bakeries and delis, bodegas, dry cleaners, and Korean grocers, all gated shut at that late hour. A bar’s canned music spilled onto the street along with a few stumbling patrons. The vibe was less claustrophobic than in Seth’s neighborhood. Even in a cold drizzle at this time of night, Avenue A would be jumping with partygoers, diners, bar hoppers, dealers, addicts, musicians, artists, police, and transients. At the time Alphabet City had teemed with the denizens of eastern and southern Europe, huddled in rear tenements, the tranquil street they currently walked on had been farmland. This was where people who craved a slower pace came to settle. All the better, Seth thought. No one around to question their business.
“So these guys we fought,” Seth said while they walked, “they blew up my apartment and killed Joe?”
“They thought Joe was you. It was a sloppy job.”
“They’re not… normal.”
“‘Normal’ is a relative term.”
“I mean, they’re freaks.”
“The swordsman is human. At least biologically.”
So it would come down to space aliens. She gave off that “mother ship” vibe.
“A desert warrior, probably Verakhoon,” she finished.
“So what planet did the other two come from?”
She threw him a furrowed glance to imply he was speaking gibberish. “The big one is likely descended from frost giants. I’m sure even you noted his size.”
“Frost giant? Like from an ice planet?”
“Star systems are too far apart to make travel between them practical. The odds of even a generational vessel completing a mission are approximately twenty-seven million, four hundred eighty-three thousand to one.”
“That a fact?” Seth checked her ears for points.
“Is there something wrong?” Lelani asked.
“Never mind. What about the little gray guy?”
“He’s part troll. Trolls are underground dwellers-excellent night vision, highly sensitive to light. Their skin is a strange hybrid of clay and organic flesh. It can bend and stretch to fantastic proportions, a trait developed to survive in their cramped universe. Their bones are soft, like cartilage, and a hormone they release at will makes their muscles, organs, and ligaments as malleable as putty. The ooze on their skin is a runoff of this process. I think it originates from their bone marrow. It’s valued by magic users as a catalyst for spells. It’s also extremely flammable, which is not a problem when you live in damp underground caves.”
“Aren’t you lil’ Ms. Encyclopedia Freakanica?” Lelani ignored the snub. Seth realized that she believed everything she was saying. “Why would anyone have sex with a troll?” he continued.
“Most mixed breeds are not the result of consensual sex. There are stringent laws in almost every society about racial purity. To be half of one race is to risk ostracism from both. All living beings are naturally suspicious of things not quite like them. Years of war, however, have bent and broken the rules of…”
Lelani halted at a highway overpass. “Are we going the right way?” She took the map from Seth, studied it and groaned. She turned right and resumed walking. Seth hurried after her.
“You can be a little nicer. I don’t need to be here.”
“Where would you go?” she said.
“Anywhere. It’s a free country. I have a life, you know.”
“You had a life. Those ‘freaks’ are looking for you.”
“Not for anything I did.”
“You constitute a threat.”
“I’m a porn photographer. The only thing I threaten is good taste and decency. Maybe I should take my chances on my own.”
“Suit yourself. As long as you’re with me, though, you can maintain the illusion that you are not friendless, homeless, and penniless.”
Lelani was right. With her, there was shelter, more snippets about his past, and the possibility that in a weak moment she might sleep with him. This limbo of aiding her was better than what awaited without her. For the moment.
They approached Mayflower Avenue and turned the corner toward Cal’s home.
“What are we going to tell this guy’s wife?” Seth asked.
“I don’t know. She complicates matters.”
“You have to tell her something. You said yourself all this will cause problems for his family. You should warn her about the circus freaks.”
“I didn’t mean it complicated things for her. I was talking about his family in Aandor.”
“He’s got two wives?”
“Not quite. Captain MacDonnell comes from a very respected family of low noble stock. The higher nobility traditionally seek unions with MacDonnell’s family for children not destined to inherit their fathers’ titles. One such union was arranged with Lord Godwynn’s child. I think her name is Chryslantha. This is a very important match for Cal. She is Godwynn’s firstborn daughter; her dowry is huge and it includes property adjacent to the MacDonnells’ ancestral lands. The union would elevate the MacDonnells in the aristocracy. But his marriage here constitutes a breach of contract between the families. This will cause problems for his father. At the very least, it sullies their excellent reputation. He will have to repudiate his American wife.”
“What if he doesn’t want to repudiate her? Hell, what if he doesn’t want to go back to your ‘Magic Kingdom’?”
Lelani turned sullen. She struck Seth as the type who liked to have every angle covered, and maybe she hadn’t considered this possibility.
“Callum is captain of the Guard for Archduke Athelstan, High Regent of Aandor,” she said. “He’s here in service to his lord. Once he remembers who he truly is, he’ll perform his duty and I will follow his orders.”
Seth got the impression she was trying to convince herself.
“What if he’s like me and can’t remember?” he asked.
“There’s a spell I can use to help him remember.”
“Aha! You can’t keep track of the big gaping holes in your own story. Why haven’t you used this spell on me if I’m your guy?”
“There’s an aura around you. You’re inoculated from magic. It’s an extremely elaborate enchantment. Captain MacDonnell does not have this barrier.”
“An aura, huh? It’s a little convenient for you that I can’t remember all this crap because I put some whammy on myself.”
“You did not ‘whammy’ yourself, Seth. The spell protecting you is beyond either of our abilities. I wouldn’t know where to begin removing it. I’m not even sure I should. Right now, it serves you better than your memory would. Soon, I’ll have the captain back, and the burden of leading this mission will be off my shoulders.”
“You’d better hope his loyalty to this lord is as strong as you think it is.”
“It has to be. The fate of my people is tied to House Athelstan. As it falls, so does my race. Others, too. Cal’s family would have no place in a world ruled by Farrenheil. The enemy wishes to control every aspect of their subjects’ lives. Dissidents and scholars disappear and are never heard from again. They use magic to torture and kill. Nations like this exist everywhere, even here. Aandor, for all its flaws, stands in opposition to this type of regime.”
They heard a police call again and checked Cal’s radio, which was still off. They followed the chatter to the police car up ahead in front of the three-story brick building the MacDonnells resided in. A uniformed cop in the driver’s seat was unconscious, as was a detective on the ground by the rear tire.
The front door to the building was smashed in. Broken glass littered the walk, which they realized came from the window above the fire escape.
Lelani’s terrified face said it all-she had miscalculated the enemy’s intentions.
Gunshots thundered above.
Lelani bolted up the stairs with Cal mysteriously clinging to her back. Although unhindered, Seth could not keep pace with the redhead, even as he wondered whether following her was a smart choice.
When Seth reached the second floor, he cautiously peered into the apartment. There was a living room on the left where Cal had been unceremoniously dumped on the couch. Some vanilla candles were lit in the kitchen on the far right. Vociferous noises, high winds, and a special effects light show emanated from a room down a short hallway in the back of the apartment. Seth sat on the couch back above the unconscious cop; after all, someone had to stay out front and guard him. He noticed the gun in Cal’s holster and drew it.
The banging in the back room rattled the building. Seth imagined the rest of the building coming awake and a slew of noisy neighbors to contend with. A sound ripped through the air that could only be described as Chewbacca getting his leg amputated. Each footstep shook the floor; the china clanged, porcelain cracked, furniture hopped and crashed back to earth with loud thuds as the giant tread heavily from the bedroom toward Seth.
The gun shook in Seth’s hand as he aimed at the running behemoth. He squeezed the trigger, but the safety was on. Seth shut his eyes expecting an impact, only to hear Hesz run past him as he bolted from the apartment. The hallway stairs splintered as Hesz blundered down them. Seth could hear his heart beat in his ears. He was shocked to be alive. It took him a few moments to spot the trail of blood leading from the bedroom and out the front door.
Seth stood, shaking. His first thought was to leave. It occurred to him that hulk could be on the sidewalk waiting to come back. He looked around the small apartment for a place to lay low. A rustling in the bedroom caught his attention. Lelani, he thought. Slowly he walked toward the back, past what looked like a child’s room. A dog lay on the floor, its head at a sick angle. He played with the gun’s latches until he was sure he had released the trigger. The master bedroom was at an angle to the hall, so he couldn’t see inside unless he stepped through it.
“Lelani?”
He poked his head around the corner. The room looked like it had been put through a Cuisinart. A hasty exit was set in the wall where a window used to be. The cop’s wife was helping a dazed Lelani stand. Then she spotted Seth, grabbed her gun off the floor, and aimed at him.
“I’m the good guy,” Seth said, holding his hands up. He forgot he had the pistol.
“Drop it,” the wife said.
“No, really. Your husband’s on the couch.”
“He’s with me,” Lelani said.
The woman kept her gun focused on Seth.
“If you’re her friend, where were you when she was fighting those creeps?”
Lelani looked at Seth. She expected an answer, too. He was afraid. They both knew it and the truth lodged in his throat waiting for a lie to supplant it.
“He covered the front in case there were reinforcements,” Lelani said. She let him off the hook. Seth gazed at the floor, unable to meet her eyes.
They heard crying.
“Bree!” The mother looked about frantic, the gun now abandoned.
The little girl pulled herself out from under the bed, the single-digit generation’s refuge of choice.
“Are the bad men gone?” the girl asked. Mother wrapped daughter in her arms.
“Yes,” she said.
“For now,” Lelani added.