We talked a little after that. She felt better, and I went ahead to talk to my second problem. He was still pretending to ignore the world on the other side of the altar.
He let out a sigh and leaned back as I approached. “Let me guess. I’m out of the club.”
I sat down next to him with a sigh. “Well…you’re not exactly the most popular right now. But there’s only three of us. Odds are one of us will screw up with the others bad enough to override your confession.”
He gave a noncommittal shrug. “Well. I’ve done what I came to do, anyway.”
“Have you?” He finally turned to look at me. Quirked his eyebrow. “I called you in to help me with the girl. Help me get her safe.”
“You called me in to get the Keepers off her back. I’ve done that.”
“And help me get her safe.”
“To Darius.”
“I believe what I said was ‘this situation bothers me’ and asked for help.”
“And you got it. Jake killed her father, is after her for her sword, leveraged the Keepers and Darius to get what he wanted. Case closed.”
“And the Orifiieio?” He hesitated. I pressed. “Did Jake decide to send them after her too? And Luna? Because I’m fairly certain she said the Ori hired her. Also, why the sword? Is he just after collecting his own things? Or is the sword some kind of beacon for the keystones?”
He mulled it over with a half-assed ‘hmmm’. I smiled. “You know I’m right.”
“Still though.” He glanced over his shoulder at Layla, who was standing and retrieving her sword, playing with the glow in the moonlight. “She’s not going to just let me waltz over there and pretend that nothing has happened.”
“You’re the Bonynhni, remember. You were very proud of it. But there’s a reason the Uma chose the words they did for those who keep secrets.”
Rod nodded. “Yeah, yeah. The Umatoe are great and all-precise. Heard this one before. Anyway, my favor is to you, not her. At least, right now. And I suppose you’ve got a point. There’s more information to gather. Want me to stay or takeoff?”
I smiled wider and he groaned.
—------------------------------------
The next few days were…interesting. We flitted from abandoned spot to abandoned spot on our way to wherever Rod thought of next, his path a winding and confusing one. Not surprising, really, as he was used to being chased. So was I, but usually I took the direct route of tricking them into a space and then smashing their face in.
Layla and I took what time we could between traveling, running, and sneaking to work on her art of sword. I wasn’t quite familiar with the type she had, but I began to teach her some of the basics from home. Onishiki believed that your weapon was your most intimate partner, your lifeline, an extension of your very soul. Then again, the Uma believed that you were the weapon, the blade a mere extension.
I started with a few test runs with her, tried to see which mindset would be better to start with. She was bold, brash. Haughty, even, when she scored a hit sparring. She quickly learned to stop taking victory laps after every hit when I clocked her in the back of the head. All fists at first, another way of testing her.
To be honest, she took most of it in stride. She mostly did what she was told, listened and adapted and learned. I hadn’t quite expected it of the angry youngster I had come to know, but really, running for your life makes you untrusting and angry for very good reasons. No need to hold it against her. Now that she was in the moment, she was actually pretty spunky. Personable. She took her training seriously when I told her to make it a priority to sneak up on Rod and slap him between the shoulder blades. She failed pretty much every time, but we would talk about what went wrong and how to judge her actions, and even within a few days she was getting the handle of it.
The goal right now wasn’t to train her with a thing in her hands. It was to teach her about thinking through her actions, judging and reacting appropriately, making tiny readjustments the more you learned. Whatever weapon she ultimately trained in, I found that ability to be the crux of who survived and who didn’t.
And finally, we made it to wherever Rod was taking us. An abandoned warehouse.
The road was dusty, old. There were even still some rusted cars out in front, taken by weather and time. Two large doors to one side were sealed shut by a giant lock, the wood around cracked and decayed. Several of the boards were broken and rotted, allowing one to see inside. It was as dark and rotted inside as you could expect. Didn’t really look like anything to be proud of.
But only if you didn’t know our world.
I trotted around the building, Layla at my heels. She had started doing that lately, trying to take notes even when we weren’t sparring. Shadowing me. Not asking questions, thankfully, but sometimes I found her staring at me as if she were trying to read my brain.
A side-door was still accessible, rusted and barely attached to the hinges. I glanced at Rod, who was still smiling as if he were the cleverest one alive. I glanced up at it, took a strong sniff. Got the slightest whiff of magic, primarily a dampening type with a camouflage to match.
“Oh,” I finally said, Layla trying her hardest to sniff behind me. I thought she was going to pass out with how hard she was trying to sniff. I glanced at her and tapped my nose. “It’s not a magic thing. It’s a genetic thing. Marwoaleth – Elewnai – can smell magic, when we want to.” Another new thing. She had begun insisting I use the proper name for everything; Elewnai instead of Marwolaeth, Elkien instead of Elf, etc etc. I think she was just so shook at the different terms being used to keep her in the dark she had flipped a switch in her head and decided to soak up every bit of knowledge she could get her hands on.
She hmmm’ed with mouth sideways. “Elks can’t?”
“Elves. Ehl-vii-ehs. The middle sorta looks like a 'K' when written, but it's pronounced like a 'V'.” She tilted her head and stared at me. Judging facts was still a new skill, apparently. I shook my head. “Just…Come on.”
I pressed my palm against the long metal handle and waited for a moment. Something inside clicked, and the door swung open easily. I trotted inside, keeping it open for both of them before allowing it to slam shut behind us. Rod took up the lead then, with Layla behind and me at the rear.
The hallway was dark and…tilted. Things in the dark clanged and shifted all on their own, a deterrent to trespassers. Rod pressed on, and about halfway into the darkness, something shifted. Changed. A cold breath washed over us for a moment, shuddering through to the very core.
Then a light flickered at the end of the hall. Noise and smells began to filter through. Smoke leaked from the entrance, the chatterings of life just ahead. Layla hesitated as Rod made his way through the opening, holding the door and waiting.
“What…what is it?” She asked.
I smiled, patted her shoulder. “Remember when I told you about Communities? How powered and magic creatures take over abandoned places? Turn them into something safe?” She nodded. “Well get ready, kid. You’re about to enter your first Community grounds.”
