The Wyvern breathed out frustration and shook his head. “The enemy might not be able to pick you out of a crowd today, but they will learn your face, and you will be a target even if you have not been changed yet.”
She nodded her understanding as her stomach flipped queasily. The elves were obviously assuming that she would become an elf.
She had hated Kansas, from the endless sky to the narrow minds of the ranch. Despite that, she’d been homesick; she missed the comfort of Christian fellowship. She’d thought about joining a church after the first month in Pittsburgh. Any decent person, though, would wonder where her parents were, and a truly good person would need to know how she was surviving on her own. If she was safe. If she had enough to eat. If she was ready for the winter. Her life didn’t stand up to the scrutiny that a close-knit community would bring.
It brought her to tears when she thought about Christmas without belonging to a church. She got goose bumps singing carols in evening services. The soft light of candles filling the church. The scent of pine trees and beeswax. Voices raised without an organ’s accompaniment; a unison of love and devotion. “O Holy Night”. “Silent Night”. “What Child is This?”
She’d told herself it was only for a year. Once her baby was born and she was firmly rooted in Pittsburgh, she’d start carefully vetting the churches in Pittsburgh. Once she found one like her grandmother’s in Boston, she’d have the community she desperately wanted.
When she had tracked Forest Moss down, she thought she could continue on that timeline. Instead of walking Liberty Avenue, selling her body to random strangers, she would be safe at night in a familiar bed. Everything else would stay the same. She should have taken Tinker’s life as a warning. The girl had been yanked out of her life, flown to Aum Renau, and things had never been the same for her.
Olivia had lost her entire life once. She was twelve when her mother decided to return to the ranch. They left behind her father, paternal grandmother, aunts, uncles and a herd of younger cousins that were as close as sisters and brothers to her. The church she’d attended since she was born. The middle school full of kids she’d known since kindergarten. The library where all the librarians knew her name and fed her wonderful books that expanded her mind.
They had driven for days, the sky growing larger and larger until the world was just wheat and sky. She felt like she’d been reduced to a speck of dirt and dropped on a foreign planet full of aliens.
So lost…
Like she felt now.
She curled up on the window seat and stared out through the glass. What was she supposed to do? She needed Forest Moss’ support to survive in Pittsburgh through the winter and the war. She wouldn’t be able to keep turning tricks to earn money as her pregnancy got more and more obvious. For her baby’s sake, she needed to eat well and stay warm and safe. And Forest Moss needed her. Without her, he’d unravel. The Wyverns would decide he was too dangerous to live, especially with other domana arriving in Pittsburgh that made him less vital to the city’s defense. Forest Moss needed her and she owed him and was fairly sure that she loved him.
But she was scared of losing herself.
She’d spent so many years fighting her family as they tried to beat her into their mold of a good and proper woman. They had wanted her to be a docile, obedient baby machine. If they could have arranged for uneducated, they would have worked for that too, but the state of Kansas tested their home school students.
What the elves wanted was worse. They wanted to change every cell of her body, and in doing so, strip away her mortality. If they took her basic humanity and then isolated her from everything human, how could she possibly stay herself? On top of it, they had bound her willingness to change to Forest Moss’ life. All the beatings and shunning and days with nothing but bread and water paled in comparison.
It would be one thing if Forest Moss wanted her to change; she would never change for anyone’s selfish desires. All that he wanted, though, was to be with her. It was the Wyverns that would force her to decide between the two.
They needed to separate themselves from the Wyverns. How?
The Wyverns hadn’t come to Pittsburgh until the war broke out. They would leave once it was done. Hopefully. She could pray for a quick and speedy end. If they left before she had her baby, then the elf sense of time might mean that no one would try to change her until it was far too late.
They would need a better place to live, one that would provide through the winter.
She stared out the window at Fifth Avenue and the sprawl of city beyond the Cathedral’s wide lawn. There had to be a simpler way to find an empty place than walking up and down the streets, checking every door.
Movement on the lawn caught her eye. Some of the students were playing Ultimate Frisbee. A handful of the marines had gathered on the sidelines to watch. The humans were as curious as the elves. The game halted to teach the marines how to throw the Frisbee.
It made her remember that Dean Fisher had said that the university assumed that their students would find an apartment in their sophomore year. How? The students would be coming from Earth with everything they would need for an entire school year. They wouldn’t be roaming the streets for days on end. There had to be some way for offworld students to line up housing before they crossed the border.
Elfhome Real Estate had an office on Forbes Avenue that whispered “luxury.” A big picture window. Thick pile carpet. Large ironwood desk. Leather visitor chairs. The cornered agent gazed at her with wide, wide eyes as she explained that she needed someplace to live. Forest Moss sat silently in the chair beside her, staring at the ceiling. The Wyverns stood quietly at her back. The marines milled outside, occasionally peering in through the picture window.
She finished with the most important part. “The Wind Clan will be paying for our quarters as part of the Stone Clan compensation for coming to Pittsburgh and fighting the oni.”
“But—but—but,” the real estate agent stammered. “I don’t understand what you think I can do about this.”
Olivia considered the lettering on the window that stated: Elfhome Real Estate. She scanned the photos of apartments decorating his wall. They had captions such as “studio with view” and “one bedroom with balcony.”
“You are a real estate agent, right?” she said just to confirm it. He could have been a secretary or a very well dressed janitor.
He put up his hands as if to ward off a blow. “We’re property managers for several Earth-based real estate companies affiliated with the University of Pittsburgh. Pitt maintains dormitories for undergraduate student housing. We handle the temporary and permanent housing for graduate and doctorate students, faculty and some of the postdocs who are doing field work in the area.”
Olivia huffed impatiently and locked in on the key words. “You handle housing.”
“To people associated with the University of Pittsburgh.” He stressed the word “associated.”
She countered with, “Pitt was on summer break when the gate failed.”
He paused for a moment, obviously sensing a trap. “Yes.”
“So there are apartments with occupants coming back to them—right? They’re on Earth and we’re on Elfhome and there’s no way to get from one to the other.”
“Yes.” He drew this word out as if he suspected that he shouldn’t admit to the truth. His eyes darted to the listening elves that probably couldn’t follow the English conversation.