Junkyard Dogma (The Elven Prophecy Book 4) Read online

  “So you know how to call upon the Furies?” I asked.

  “Not exactly. I mean, sort of. I know someone who has done it before. It just didn’t turn out so well for him when he tried it.”

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  “My father,” Aerin said. “Only he’s not with us. He’s been in exile since I was just a girl. I’ll just say, as you might have guessed by the fact that he once tried to evoke the Furies, he didn’t agree with the tradition of restraint. He believed that the drow should embrace magic fully. Not be limited to enchantments.”

  “So when he did this, when he called on the Furies, what happened?”

  “They abducted my mother,” Aerin said. “It’s why I’m the current reigning monarch despite being still just a princess. Not until my mother dies will I officially become queen.”

  “So if they abducted your mother, who sent your father into exile?”

  Aerin sighed. “I did, Caspar. When he dies, as the sole female heir to the throne, I will assume power. It was necessary to exile my father, which adds a layer of difficulty to this whole plan.”

  “You don’t think he’ll be inclined to tell you how to do it?” I asked.

  Aerin shook her head. “He won’t. Why would he? I sent him into exile for doing the very thing we’d be asking him how to do.”

  “Into exile where?”

  Aerin pressed her lips together. “I sent him here.”

  “To the United States?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Not just to the United States. He’s here in St. Louis. It’s where he wanted to go. He said that all things were going to come to a head here, so I allowed it.”

  “After all that’s happened, you haven’t gone to see him?” I asked. “He hasn’t reached out?”

  Aerin shook her head. “Like I said, I don’t think he wants to see me. And I wasn’t exactly keen on looking him up before.”

  I scratched my head. “Well, at least it’s convenient. Since we don’t have much time to respond to the President’s ultimatum, I’ll call that a small victory.”

  Chapter Seven

  Brag’mok, Jag, and Dwight made short work of unloading the rig. Brag’mok saw lifting heavy things as another opportunity to take out his frustrations. Jag made it a point to roll up his sleeves as he carried one heavy item after the next out of the truck, presumably to impress the drow woman he’d taken an interest in. Dwight…well, he directed traffic.

  Brag’mok had assembled a number of metal shelters made mostly from truck beds, the hoods of abandoned cars, and other pieces of scrap. The drow gathered to watch as Layla and I assembled one of the tents, then picked up the rest and duplicated our efforts.

  Dwight drove off, leaving Jag and Brag’mok behind. I shook my head. Jag didn’t live here. He had his own apartment, and Brag’mok had been living with him. Did they really expect me to give them a ride back? It wasn’t like Brag’mok could fit in the Eclipse, anyway. Jag would probably fit uncomfortably.

  Of course, the junkyard probably had enough car parts between all the broken down vehicles that had been abandoned there that a good mechanic could put something together that might be more accommodating to larger-than-average passengers.

  Jag wasn’t exactly a professional mechanic, but based on the fact that he was looking under the hood of an abandoned farm truck he gave me the impression that he knew at least a little.

  “What are you doing?” I asked. “Why didn’t you go back with Dwight?”

  Jag shrugged. “Not really safe there for Brag’mok. The way I see it, if Brightborn sends any assassins after him, they won’t hesitate to do the same with me. After all that has been happening, I’m just not sure it’s safe for either of us to go back. Not now, anyway.”

  I nodded. “What are you doing with this old truck?”

  “It’s not in awful shape,” Jag said. “Rebuilt a truck sort of like this one with my dad when I was a kid. Just a little curious, honestly.”

  “Think you could get it working?” I asked. “I don’t think either you or Brag’mok could fit comfortably in my car.”

  Jag nodded. “Might just be something simple. Don’t have a key. I’ll have to hotwire the thing to see what happens when I try and fire it up. Looks like all the parts are here, though. Not sure they’re all functioning, but maybe I can dig up replacement parts. This isn’t the only farm truck of this vintage abandoned here. Maybe between all of them, I can put together one functioning vehicle.”

  I smiled and slapped Jag on the back. “I’d hoped as much. You guys have a place to sleep?”

  Jag nodded off into the distance at one of Brag’mok’s makeshift shelters. It looked, to me, like another pile of scrap. “You sure that’ll do? You really don’t have to stay down here with us if you don’t want to.”

  “I do want to, Caspar,” Jag said. “Only thing I’ll miss here is the gym. I’m sure I can figure out something. Maybe I’ll find a Prius to bench press or something.”

  I snorted. “You can’t bench a Prius.”

  “Can, too!” Jag nodded, pressing his lips together. “At least, I think I can. Haven’t tried.”

  “It’s a whole car,” I said. “It has to weigh at least three thousand pounds.”

  Jag grunted. “No, it couldn’t be that much. It’s so small.”

  “I’m sure you can find something to lift. I mean, we’ve got some tires and wheels. Put those on the end of a long pipe or something, and you’d have as good as an Olympic bar.”

  Jag pinched his chin. “Not a bad idea, Casp!”

  “Is everything in order at St. Ensley's?” I asked. “I’m sure there will be more government agents there next Sunday, expecting me to say something in support of the President’s alliance with Brightborn.”

  Jag nodded. “Provided we can get there, sure. I still have all the equipment there to live-stream whatever it is you want to do. I’m sure that your friend Cecil and the rest of them will be there too.”

  “We’re working on a plan,” I said. “I’m still reluctant to use St. Ensley’s. With the government on my case and the elves probably looking for us, I don’t want to subject the people there to danger.”

  “Whatever you decide,” Jag said. “Just let me know how I can help.”

  “Thanks, Jag. It means a lot. Besides, it’s nice to have another human here. Nice to know I’m not the only one on our side of this whole thing.”

  “We aren’t the only ones,” Jag said. “There are others, all those who gathered at St. Ensley’s before, just waiting and ready to help in whatever way you might ask.”

  “That’s the thing,” I said. “I don’t want to get more people wrapped up in this than is necessary. At least not so long as my whole future is in question.”

  “It will work out,” Jag said. “I believe in you. You’ll find a way through this mess. I know it.”

  I slapped Jag on the shoulder. Not in an aggressive way. It was a gesture meant to communicate solidarity. “Again, I really appreciate everything you’re doing and your vote of confidence.”

  “Goodnight, Casp,” Jag said, turning and making his way toward the makeshift dome that Brag’mok had constructed for the two of them to share. I half wondered, with two such massive men in one shelter made of scrap metal, how loud it would be when they started snoring.

  I yawned and turned back toward the farmhouse.

  One of the generators was already running. It was on the porch of the farmhouse, and a cord was strung inside.

  “You set up air conditioning inside?” I asked Layla as I walked through the door. She had been waiting for me, rocking on a chair on the porch.

  Layla bit her lip. “Not exactly.”

  I followed the cord inside and found it leading to Agnus’ self-cleaning litter box. I looked at Layla with a blank stare. “Seriously? The litter box was a priority?”

  “Agnus wouldn’t stop bitching about it,” Layla said. “I figured it would get him out of our hair.”

  I chuckl
ed and shook my head. “Well, at least it shouldn’t pull a lot of electricity.”

  I put my arm around Layla. “I’m beat. Ready to hit the sack and start again fresh in the morning?”

  Layla took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m tired, too.”

  As we walked into the bedroom, I found the air mattress that Layla and I had been sleeping on was totally flat. Agnus was curled up on one of the blankets in the middle of it.

  “Agnus,” I said. “What happened to the mattress?”

  Agnus looked at me, licked his paw, and ran it over his head. “Sorry, Casp. Claws. What can I say? With all these blankets, I just couldn’t resist kneading them. Then there was a pop, and…well…it was like bubble wrap but with only one big pop.”

  I snorted as I reached into a duffel bag of various supplies I’d packed when we moved out of the apartment and pulled out a roll of duct tape. “Where’s the leak, exactly?”

  “Here and there,” Agnus said. “When the air came out, it felt good. It’s too muggy in here!”

  “I’ll get him some tuna,” Layla said. “Maybe we can patch it up if he’s not putting any more holes in it.”

  Agnus’ ears responded to the word “tuna,” and after his ears, the rest of his body perked up, and he scurried out the door.

  I tossed the blankets off the deflated mattress and onto the floor. On my hands and knees, I found the holes I could locate and taped them over. I wasn’t sure how well the duct tape would hold, especially once we got our weight on the mattress, but I was hoping it would at least hold enough air to last the night.

  Of course, what would be the chances that I’d find all the holes on the first try? The mattress had a manual pump, but it also had an electric one. I unplugged Agnus’ litter box and plugged in the pump. As the mattress partially inflated, I ran my hand across the top, looking for more leaks. Altogether, I found about a dozen claw-sized punctures. Once I had them patched, I put the blankets back on the bed and tucked myself in.

  Layla joined me, spooning behind me, and we fell asleep.

  Chapter Eight

  When I woke up the next morning, the bed had deflated. We were lying on the hard floor. I wasn’t sure how long it had been that way, but at least I’d been able to sleep through it.

  Layla was still sound asleep. Somehow. Agnus sat at the foot of the bed, staring at us.

  “What are you looking at?” I asked. “Looking for a can of morning tuna?”

  “I’m fine,” Agnus said, cocking his head. “But you… Ever since the trials, when you sleep… It’s getting worse. I think you need release.”

  I cocked my head. “What sort of release? Just yesterday, Layla and I…”

  “Not that, you perv,” Agnus piped back. “Not that you don’t have an embarrassing case of night-wood most of the time. But that’s not what I was referring to.”

  I scratched my head, then grabbed my pillow and put it over my lap. Stuff like that wasn’t embarrassing before my cat could talk. But now…

  “What were you talking about, Agnus? Since the trials, what?”

  “Ah yes,” Agnus said. “Sorry, I was distracted. Didn’t your mom tell you it’s not nice to point?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Just answer the question, Agnus.”

  “I can barely touch you when you’re sleeping. It’s almost like electricity, and it gets stronger every night. It’s like you’re all pent up. We know what happens when you don’t take matters into your own hands—when you don’t give yourself a release.”

  “We’re still talking about magic, right?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Agnus looked at me blankly. “Of course. What else would I be talking about? I’m just saying, if you don’t find an outlet, a way to use your magic, you might inadvertently fire off at an inopportune moment.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. “Good to know. If we’re going to do something like that, we need to get as far away from the ranch as possible. So Brightborn doesn’t find out where we’re at.”

  Layla rolled over and put her hand on my back.

  “Holy crap, Caspar. You’re hot! Like, burning up.”

  “Burning up?” I asked. “I don’t think I’m sick. Doesn’t feel like I have a fever.”

  “It’s fire magic,” Agnus said. “It’s not the worst element trying to get out. I’d hate it if you broke wind or wet your bed.”

  Layla snickered. “If it was Earth, you might wake up getting your rocks off.”

  “Stop it,” I said, shaking my head. “This is serious. If this magic gets out, all of this we’re building here will be at risk.”

  “I know,” Layla said, standing up and quickly throwing on a t-shirt and slipping into a pair of yoga pants. Not because she was planning to do any exercise, but because she wore yoga pants like some people wear sweats. She found them comfortable. I didn’t mind. Her butt looked amazing in them.

  I still wasn’t quite in as good of shape as she was. I was getting there, but a few months of even the best training wasn’t going to completely reverse years of Twinkie and Pizza binges. I didn’t even have a six-pack yet. I had two little abs right on top that sometimes peeked out. Then they disappeared again as if they’d seen their own shadow.

  Six more weeks of cardio hell.

  At least, that’s what would have happened before we were living on the ranch. Most of the workouts I got in here were tied to actual manual labor.

  “What are you doing?” Layla asked.

  “Sitting on my ass. Why?”

  “We need to get you out of here, Caspar. Before you shoot your magical load all over the ranch.”

  I huffed. “That was…a disturbingly graphic image.”

  “If you find the idea troubling, imagine being on the receiving end. All the people here, the drow, even Jag and Brag’mok who believe that this place is safe.”

  I sighed and stood up. The blood rushed from my head, and I wobbled.

  Layla grabbed my arm. “Caspar, are you okay?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I think so. Maybe I stood up too fast.”

  “We don’t know what all that magic might do to your body if it builds up too much. Come on, I’ll drive.”

  “But you don’t have a license. I mean, not a legal one.”

  “You aren’t in any shape to drive, Caspar,” Layla said. “Besides, say you got pulled over, and they ran your license. You really think the government wouldn’t notice?”

  I sighed. “Good point. I’m seeing double, as if I’d been drinking.”

  Layal took me by the arm and led me out of the farmhouse.

  “Where are you two going?” Aerin asked. She was standing on the porch, evidently taking in the morning air.

  “It’s Caspar,” Layla said. “Something’s wrong. We think it’s his magic building up. I need to take him somewhere he can release it safely.”

  “I know a place,” Aerin said. “I’ll come with you.”

  “You know a place?” I asked, raising my eyebrows as I saw two Aerins looking back at me.

  Aerin nodded. “We were talking about going to visit my father anyway. Might as well do it now.”

  “So you can show off your magically charged husband?” I asked as Layla opened the passenger side door for me. “Chivalry isn’t dead after all,” I said–, almost bumping my head on the roof as I lowered myself into the passenger seat.

  Aerin shook her head as she opened the back door of my Eclipse. “When we exiled him, we knew he’d be using magic. We figured he’d incur the wrath of the fairies eventually and give it up. But shortly after we came to St. Louis, I decided to check it out.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t go see him,” I said as Layla started the ignition. Felt a little bit like my car was cheating on me. I know, with my wife. It’s weird. But I’m possessive about my car. I couldn't remember the last time I allowed someone else to drive it, apart from the mechanics who pulled it in and out of the shop, anyway.

  “I didn’t go to see him. I went to observe. He
’d set up a ring of stones, like those the druids used to use in Northern Europe. I saw him casting different kinds of magic inside. It was like the stones contained it. They prevented the power from escaping, hiding him from the fairies. He’d always insisted that there were ways we could use magic without upsetting the fae, but such things were unthinkable according to drow custom. We were taught from a young age that the only kind of magic we could dare wield was through the medium of enchanted items.”

  “So if we go there, to his stone circle, I can release all my magic without consequences?” I asked.

  “Theoretically,” Aerin said. “I mean, yes. It should work.”

  “In theory, or yes? Which is it?” I asked.

  “All I know is what I saw my father do. He can’t wield all the elements. I can’t guarantee that whatever method he used there with the stones would work in your case. But I can sense the magic in you, Caspar. My father is our best chance. If you release it anywhere close to here, you’ll give the elves a place to start looking.”

  I nodded. “All right. But you said before you weren’t sure he’d want to see you.”

  Aerin bit her lip. “He might not. But once he knows what’s at stake, he’ll help. My father’s views are not, how can I put it, what you’d call orthodox. But he isn’t a bad man. He always intended to do good. If he realizes you are the chosen one, that you’re Naayak Nightshade, I can’t believe he won’t help.”

  “And if he’s willing to teach us how to summon the Furies, all the better,” I said.

  Layla grunted. “I don’t know. We don’t have Brag’mok with us. We shouldn't attempt it without him.”

  “We’re not saying we’re actually going to do it,” Aerin said. “Only find out how to do it. If he’s inclined to share, that is.”

  Chapter Nine

  The junkyard ranch was just a few exits past Six Flags off I-44. By “off the Interstate,” I mean, quite a ways off it, down a series of country roads. The closest few roads that we had to take to get to the ranch were all poorly kept gravel.