“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.