Judgment of the Elders

  Rhassa and Lynera pulled us from the rubble. I may have suffered a slight concussion, but someone has to narrate this story. I brewed some tea and got back to work.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Joan lay awake listening to her sister’s soft snoring in the hour before dawn on Saturday. Her life was suddenly more confusing than ever before. By the end of primary school, Joan had the world figured out. Family meant everything so, even if they were dull as dirt, you stuck by them. Other people who were not family could be cruel. They would make fun of you for speaking up and for being too quiet. They would bother you to play their stupid games and then laugh when you were no good at them. Nobody invited you to their birthday parties, but with four siblings, there were plenty of birthdays to celebrate. You didn’t need anybody else’s dumb birthday cake.

  But in a few hours Joan would go shopping with another girl; one not from the family. In fact, she wondered if Cass was even from this planet, but that wasn’t the point. She would introduce Cass to her father and help the girl find a bag, because Cass needed a friend. Joan was okay with that.

  A small thread worked loose from Joan’s universe, and began to unravel.

  ##

  Joan arrived at Cass’s house just after ten in the morning and was welcomed into the living room by Magolyn, in the role of Mom. Looking around, she was surprised to find a fairly modest residence.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, Ms. Forest, but Cass kind of left me with the impression you were wealthy.”

  Magolyn rolled her eyes. Leave it to Cass to just blurt out information. “We’re comfortable, Joan. Yellowknife had a high cost of living because it’s so hard to transport stuff there. Fuel, food and building supplies are all trucked in. The cost of living here is high because of population density and high demand, especially for housing. We have enough to keep up with those costs, thanks to James’ father. I hope Cass wasn’t flaunting our status.”

  Joan back-pedaled. “I think Cass just thinks everybody at school is wealthy because there’s a tuition fee. My folks just prioritize a Catholic education. We also get a sibling discount.”

  Cass joined them shortly and asked Joan to extend a wrist.

  “Why?”

  “I have a bracelet for you.”

  “Like a friendship bracelet? Are we in fifth grade?”

  Cass patiently explained. “It’s a good luck charm. My mother makes them and she’ll be horribly offended if you don’t wear it, so put out your hand.”

  As Magolyn was standing right behind her, Joan acquiesced. She didn’t intend to wear the odd trinket any longer than necessary.

  The bracelet was a leather thong strung with two sliver beads bracketing a clear bead containing anise seeds. Joan had no way of knowing, but anise is used as a protection from nightmares. Magolyn crafted charms for Cass and her friend to ward against Dream Dwellers, in case Esmeralda was partnering with a Grimel Kin.

  “Did your mother learn this because she studies anthropology, or does she just believe in luck?”

  “Um, I’m not sure. She started doing it in Canada.”

  “Is it Native American beadwork?”

  “Native Canadian.”

  “It’s still North America, Cass.”

  In truth, the Athapaskan and Inuvialuit people of the Northwest Territories prefer the term Aboriginal, but I wasn’t there and correcting people telepathically is rude and creepy.

  ##

  The Dollar Daze store was a fair hike from Cass’s house, but Saturday was bright and sunny so the girls walked. Joan introduced Cass to her father and eldest brother before taking him to a large rack of shoulder bags, knapsacks and backpacks. Many were decorated with superheroes, toy promotions or cultural icons from other lands. Cass examined a pink Hello Kitty pack, but rejected it after a short contemplation.

  “These are all for children. I’m okay with being out of fashion, but not looking like I’m in grade school. I have some pride.”

  Joan rolled her eyes. “And yet, we’re wearing friendship bracelets. I did warn you the stuff was all close-out merchandise. Still, we have some patterned packs over here, like this black and red plaid.”

  Cass cringed. “That reminds me, does the store have underwear?”

  “Backpacks make you think of underwear?”

  Cass reached into the waistband of his jeans and pulled up the fabric of his bikinis. “My mother bought nothing but identical plaid briefs, and I figured I might… ”

  Joan turned aside. “TMI! Not interested. I only agreed to help with a backpack. Women’s underwear is on the back wall in the middle. You can handle it yourself when we’re finished here.”

  ##

  Wigout skulked between the rows keeping an eye on the two human girls. He would periodically freeze in a patch of sunlight from the windows, vanishing from shoppers’ view. The ceiling fixtures were inconveniently high, so climbing unseen was out of the question. He dealt with his boredom by playing with screws. Wigout liked the predictability of screws. Turn them clockwise they go in. Turn them counterclockwise they come out.

  “What about a computer bag or briefcase?” wondered Cass as he wandered back down the aisle in the direction of Wigout’s hiding place. “I haven’t been lugging my laptop to school, but some people do.”

  “It looks kinda nerdy and professional. There also isn’t much room for books.”

  “Being called a nerd isn’t so bad. Rodger gets call a nerd and he’s a decent guy. It’s all good.”

  Cass reached out for one of the laptop bags and Wigout spotted the bracelet. The Grimel Kin immediately retreated, but ran toward the approaching Joan without considering concealment. Joan suddenly saw a small figure rushing toward her and threw her hands up to block. Wigout saw her amulet and, in a panic, backed into the shelves. The various screws he’d been tinkering with pulled free of the frame and the entire rack of merchandise came crashing down.

  Buried under a pile of canvas and plastic, Wigout heard a keening yelp and then the Cass girl started shouting for help. He lay low hoping no one saw him. A number of people rushed over, but they were all focused on the human girls. They carefully picked one up, taking her to the front of the shop. When Wigout heard a siren wailing, he crawled out of the wreckage, his body awash in aches and pains.

  Grimel Kin often get caught in their own mechanical disasters, and so have evolved into very resilient creatures reminiscent of Wile E. Coyote.

  Wigout slunk into the back storeroom and then out through a window. He briefly considered jumping aboard a Long Island Railroad train headed for Queens. He was quite tired of cross bearers and protective amulets. The bracelets meant his target was on to him and that didn’t bode well for his future health or stability. In the end, he decided that tempting Esmeralda’s wrath by just running away was unwise. He’d relate his most recent activities to his Mistress and hope she saw it as a victory. Then he could quit. Politely, of course.

  ##

  Magolyn answered the phone to hear a breathless Cass straining his already squeaky voice. “Maggie, something awful happened.”

  She tried to sound calm, but a rattled Cass was very unusual. “Where are you?”

  “I’m at the hospital. A rack of stuff tipped over on Joan at the Dollar Daze. She’s in with a doctor and her father right now. They aren’t letting non-relatives see her, but I’m staying until I know she’s okay.”

  “Of course, not a problem. I hope she’s all right.”

  There was a pause as Cass took a shaky breath. “Creeping leaf mold, Maggie, all of this is my fault.”

  “Calm down Cass. What exactly happened?”

  “There was a Grimel Kin in the store, probably after me. Even if Esme sent the blasted thing, it wouldn’t have hurt Joan if I hadn’t gotten myself exiled here. Or, maybe I should have left her alone. It’s because she knows me that… ”

  There was silence on the call for a few heartbeats. Then Maggie said “The girl will be fine Cass. Satisfy yourself of that fact and co
me home. We’ll talk.”

  ##

  While medical professionals dealt with Joan, I checked in on the younger Mr. Goodkin. His house was a carefully restored Victorian “painted lady” with a large front porch, bay window and gingerbread details lining the roof. The project was the passion of Peter’s late grandfather and Adam Goodkin maintained the place in memory of his father, rather than out of any fascination with architecture.

  As it turned out, my spying on Peter led to interesting revelations about his motivations and his rather emotionally deprived family life. I watched him enter the foyer, depositing the mail on a side table. He called out, “Keisha, I’m back.”

  The Goodkin’s housekeeper sauntered out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a dishcloth. “Afternoon, Peter. How was practice?”

  “Oh, it was full of spectacular feats of athleticism and prodigious sweating, just like every trip around the track. I presume my family is absent.”

  “Your father is working late and your stepmother is hosting a fundraiser at the library. There’s pot roast, potatoes and carrots when you’re ready for dinner.”

  “What would I do without you?”

  “Eat out, I imagine.” She snickered at her own joke and returned to the kitchen, confident Peter would seek her out when sufficiently hungry.

  Peter climbed the stairs. Depositing his bag on the bed, he changed out of his track gear into a long-sleeved tee shirt and black jeans. Then he laid out his homework assignments in order of ease of completion, displaying his obsessive-compulsiveness. Peter was smart enough to maintain a decent average without trying too hard and he excelled at track because of his competitive nature. Maintaining his popularity, however, required force of will. Peter was neither very attractive nor very plain, but an unswerving commitment to holding the spotlight caused others to perceive him as good-looking. He was always well-groomed and impeccably-dressed.

  Before starting his weekend assignments, Peter removed a notebook from his desk drawer. The jottings he kept in this journal never went to school with him. Turning to the last page with writing, he crossed Katrina Petrov’s name from a list of girls written there. She was the last of five and the only one to make it past freshman year without Peter’s attention. There were certainly many more girls from the prior year who Peter ignored completely, but these five drew his ire because of their resemblance to Amanda Lipton. Each one had the looks, talent and attitude to join the Queen Bee faction at school. As far as Peter was concerned OLAM didn’t need any more Amandas.

  Peter viewed Amanda as both a rival and the embodiment of everything wrong with women. She was a good student, volunteer tutor and editor of the school paper. She had flawless pink skin (courtesy of her mother, the dermatologist), a narrow, patrician nose (because her father was a plastic surgeon) and pearly white teeth (thanks to a dentist uncle). She and Peter dated sporadically throughout high school, but only because they each wanted domination over the other. Amanda had a sense of self and level of confidence that Peter viewed as dangerous in a woman. It was that attitude that incited his mother to divorce his father and allowed Gerri to manipulate his Dad by suggesting she might also leave.

  Peter hadn’t found a way to overwhelm Amanda’s spirit, but he was determined no more freshman or sophomore women would follow in her footsteps.

  With Trina Petrov under his thumb, he and the Twins could crush the young musician’s ego and turn their attention to the incoming freshmen. Peter also decided to assess the new Forest girl. He thought her too weird for the popular crowd, but she had a self-assurance that bordered on insolent. He felt she might benefit from a small dose of the Goodkin charm.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Esme was awake early on Sunday and back in Palmer Park receiving a report from her distasteful henchman. Alfarans don’t require much sleep, but Esme spent the prior evening doing crystal gazing and would have preferred more shut-eye to hearing Wigout ramble. The Grimel Kin was working hard at making his activities seem impressive.

  “I had to dodge around many humans, hiding in sunshine while stalking the Cass girl. Then I thought up good plan to make shelves fall. After loosening all screws, I pushed whole rack of stuff over on them. It was very noisy and messy.”

  Esmeralda sat listening, suspecting exaggeration on Wigout’s part. Still, the truth of his story was verified by local gossip. A few of last night’s customers mentioned an accident at a discount store.

  “Was Cass harmed in this catastrophic collapse?”

  Wigout swallowed hard. “Well, no, but other human girl with shiny teeth was hurt. They carried her away and put her in van that screams and blinks.”

  “Why would I care if a random human was hurt? Your target is Cassandra.”

  “But, you see, is important to Cass girl that friend was hurt. Cass girl went with other humans to medical hotel to make sure shiny teeth girl was all right. So Wigout did hurt Cass girl… in the heart.”

  Esme pondered this bit of information. “Caswel is trapped here, forced to deal with mundane primitives with inadequate access to the glories of Nature, and it matters to him that a classmate was hurt. It didn’t matter to him that I was hurt. It didn’t matter to him that random human women fawned all over him when he cared nothing for their affections. But a little teenage girl draws his concern.” Her anger redoubled, but it led to a realization. She’d been approaching revenge too randomly. The Elders wanted Cass to see the folly of human existence to break his fascination with the Mortal Realm. The more Esmeralda made things difficult for Cass, the faster he’d learn that lesson. But, if Cass became dangerous to others, humans would shun him. Furthermore, it was possible the Elders would blame him for getting humans hurt, if she played her hand correctly.

  Wigout wondered why his Mistress kept referring to Cass as “him”, but decided this was not the time for questions. He took her tirade as acceptance of his story, so he made his pitch for freedom.

  “Now that Wigout has made Cass girl very sad, maybe Mistress could give out puzzles and let Wigout go.”

  “Not yet.”

  Wigout stamped a foot in frustration. “Cass girl and friend had charms against Dream Dwellers. She knows accidents are Grimel Kin work. Wigout cannot keep hidden much longer.”

  Esme nodded. “I agree. I have just one more assignment and you’re done. I presume, as a Dream Dweller, you can gain access to the Breath of Morpheus.”

  Wigout’s eyes went wide, but he nodded slowly.

  ##

  Magolyn reviewed the notes she’d taken on the exile so far. I read along with her and transcribed what she’d written on behalf of her bondfast.

  The Mortal Realm is every bit as chaotic as our scholarship predicted. We do not question the Elders’ judgment, but they have thrown Caswel Esmar into dangerous waters hoping to scare him away from the shore. Instead, he may learn to swim.

  From the outset, my bondfast and I determined Cass was projecting the appearance of sullen despair over his exile, but secretly hoped a pitiful presentation would garner him mercy. The Mortal Realm, however, overtook his plan. He finds this world both attractive and repulsive by turns. We all thought we could predict what the humans around us would do, but their behaviors are varied and erratic. Magolyn and I avoid the neighbors, but Cass must interact with students and teachers.

  Cass has shunned the most influential of his peers as part of his ruse to seem downtrodden. Instead, he’s befriended one unsociable girl and a very shy boy. The human girl suffered injury recently and this has altered Cass’s outlook in ways that may or may not be productive.

  This human’s accident was precipitated by a Grimel Kin, and this leads me to an even greater complication regarding our mission. Esmeralda Shafil te Glenhollow has come here claiming only to observe Caswel’s exile and humiliation. She once had feelings for Cass and feels he betrayed her even more than he betrayed his Clan. She is not open to debate on this issue. Esmeralda plans to depart at the next new moon and denies any knowledge of the Gr
imel Kin. Still, three Alfarans living in close proximity in the Mortal Realm may garner notice. We will use extra caution and hope she does the same.

  So far we have survived a failure of the house’s electrical system, Caswel’s repeated declarations regarding the unfairness of high school homework and tartan bras, and a casual encounter with law enforcement. Our expenses have been a bit higher than expected and we hope the Counsel will take this into account.

  Regarding the Exile, his attitude has revised somewhat. He feels responsible for the human girl’s injury and will undoubtedly be more careful in the future. Still, I fear he may begin closely identifying with these poor Mortals and find more affection for this Realm than we anticipated. Pity is a reasonable response, but empathy could be dangerous. I will watch this development closely.

  I was interested to see if Magolyn’s views about the Mortal Realm might change after she audited a few anthropology classes at Stony Brook. By coincidence, I used to be an anthropology professor back when I had a normal life. My specialty was world religions and mythology. This led to an interest in shamanism, experimentation with divination and my eventual captivity in the Realm of Fae.

  One weekend evening, ever so long ago, while camping in the Adirondacks with my wife, I discovered a Fae Gate. The temptation to walk through it proved too great. Had I known the Alfarans would prevent me from returning, for fear I’d announce my discovery to the world, I never would have taken the risk.

  Rather than simply accept my gilded cage, however, I’ve learned all I could about Alfarans and other Fae races. The Elders came to appreciate my advice, leading to my current position; reforming and retooling the Darkmoon Wardens. The organization was too small and too complacent before my arrival, but my recent investigations proved we needed to prepare for an onrushing storm.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Monday morning, Cass stopped by Sister Patrice’s corner asking what he could do to help Joan stay current with school work. The counselor assured him that Joan could get her assignments.