“You talk like you’ve been through it.”
“There have been a few times where all I could do was kiss dirt and pray.”
Stormsong scoffed slightly, reminding Tinker that this wasn’t a private conversation. On the heels of that, she remembered that this was the second most important person in Pittsburgh after Windwolf — and he had come looking for her.
“You didn’t come here to ask me about my religion.”
“Actually, in a way, I had,” Maynard said. “You do realize that Pittsburgh’s treaty with the elves is now null and void?”
“No. Why would it be void?”
“The basic underlying principle of the treaty is that Pittsburgh was a city of Earth only temporarily visiting Elfhome. Every article was written with the idea that humans would and could return to Earth.”
“Shit! Okay, I didn’t realize that.” She frowned at him, wishing she wasn’t so tired. Surely this conversation had to be making some kind of sense, but she was missing the connection. What did her religion have to do with the treaty?
“Little one,” Stormsong took out a pack of Juicy Fruit gum and offered Tinker a piece. “He wants to know how human you are after everyone has had a chance to fuck your brain over for the last few months. He needs your help but he doesn’t know if he can trust you.”
Ooooh. Tinker took the gum to give herself a moment to think.
“Succinct as ever, Stormsong.” Maynard also accepted a piece.
“That’s why you love me.” Stormsong stepped back out of the conversation, becoming elfin again.
The last time Tinker remembered talking with Maynard was — before she’d been summoned by the queen. She’d warned him about the oni. Slowly unwrapping the gum, she tried to remember if she had seen Maynard after that. No, the oni had kidnapped her while she was on her way to see him. Yeah, she could see why he might be concerned she’d been somehow — damaged.
That still begged the question of what the hell he expected her to do in regard of negotiating a new treaty. As a business owner, she found all regulations set up in the original one to be baffling, perplexing, mystifying, bewildering… and any other word that meant confusing.
“Look, I can help with junkyards, hoverbike racing, and advanced physics.” She sighed and put the gum in her mouth. For a moment the taste — not Juicy Fruit as she remembered but something similar — only a hundred times better — distracted her. It was like getting kicked in the mouth. “Wow.” She checked the bright yellow wrapper in her hand. Oh yes, she was an elf now, and things tasted different.
Maynard was frowning, waiting for her to finish her point.
“Um—” What had she been saying? Oh yes, her areas of expertise. “But I’ve discovered that I know very little about anything else.”
“You’re Windwolf’s domi.”
“And this makes me an expert on — what? I don’t know you well enough to discuss my sex life and quite frankly, the only place I get to see my husband is in bed.”
“Whether you like it or not, ze domi, that makes you a player in Pittsburgh. There are sixty thousands humans that need you on their side.”
“Fine, I’m on their side. Rah, rah, rah! That still doesn’t give me a clue how to help. Fuck, I tried to help the elves and look at the mess I made. You can’t screw up much more than Turtle Creek.”
“A lot of elves see this as a win-win situation. If you had permanently returned Pittsburgh back to Earth, it would have been perfect.”
“Some of us would have been pissed,” Stormsong said.
Maynard gave Stormsong a look that begged her to be quiet.
“Look,” Tinker said. “If shit hits the fan, I promise I will move heaven and earth to protect the people of this city, but I am not a political animal. At this point in time, I don’t even want to try to tackle anything that can’t be solved with basic number crunching.”
Maynard was still gazing at Stormsong, but in a more intent fashion now. Stormsong wore an odd stunned look, like someone had hit her with a cattle prod.
“Stormsong?” Tinker scanned the area, looking for danger.
“You will,” Stormsong murmured softly in a voice that put chills down Tinker’s spine.
“I will what?” Tinker shivered off the feeling.
“Move heaven and earth to protect what you love,” Stormsong whispered.
“What the hell does that mean?” Tinker asked.
Stormsong blinked and focused on Tinker. “Forgiveness, ze domi,” she said in High Elvish, disappearing behind her most formal mask. “My ability is erratic and I’m untrained. I–I am not certain…”
“If that’s the case, I’m satisfied.” Maynard acted as if Stormsong had said something more understandable. “Forgiveness, ze domi, I must take my leave. Nasadae.”
“Nasadae.” Tinker echoed, mystified. What the fuck just happened? Maynard bowed his parting. Stormsong had gone into sekasha mode. And the conversation had been in English, so asking Pony would be pointless.
Wojo returned with the keys. “I see you’ve found the cause of all our problems.” He indicated the shrine marking the ley line. “As soon as the magic seeped into the area after the first Startup, the whole unit went whacky. It was the weirdest thing I’d ever seen — including waking up the day before.”
“Huh?” She was having trouble switching gears. That’s it, I’m won’t fight any monsters today and go to bed early.
Wojo misunderstood her grunt of confusion. “I lived out in West View right on the Rim — almost didn’t come with the rest of the city. My place looked down on I-279. Every morning, I’d get up, have coffee, and check traffic out my back window. That first Startup, I looked out, and there was nothing but trees. I thought maybe I was dreaming. I actually went and took a cold shower before going back and looking again.”
Tinker added a shower and maybe a nightcap to her ‘must get sleep’ list — if she could find either.
“I never realized how noisy the highway was until afterwards,” Wojo continued blithely. “When the forest is still, its absolute quiet, like the world is wrapped in cotton. And the wind through the trees — that green smell — I just love it.”
Tinker bet Stormsong would know where to find booze and hot water.
“But between the wargs, the saurus and the black willows, West View was just too isolated — I was way out past the scientist commune on Observatory Hill. It’s all ironwood forest now. I have a nice place up to Mount Washington, beautiful view of the city, and it’s much safer up there. And hell, with gas prices what they are, it makes sense to take the incline down the hill and take the light rail over.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tinker agreed to shut him up and indicated the door. “Let’s see what you have.”
Wojo unlocked the padlock, freed it from the bolt, and opened the door.
Before her transformation, ley lines seemed nearly mystical — lines of force running like invisible rivers. The little shrines erected by the elves on strong ley lines served as the only warning for why the normal laws of physics would suddenly skew off in odd directions, as the chaos of magic was applied to the equation. “I hit a ley,” embedded itself into the Pittsburgh language, blaming everything from acts of nature to bad judgment on the unseen presence.
But now, as a domana, she could see magic. The door swung open to reveal a room filled with the shimmer of power.
“Sweet gods,” she breathed, earning a surprised look from Wojo and making the sekasha move closer to her.