Tempest Rising

I turned to go back through the little gate separating the pool from the courtyard, and I heard a rustling behind me. Ryu? I wondered, although he hadn’t had enough downtime yet to be awake. Probably Elspeth doing something considerate, like bringing me my clothes or a robe, I decided. The dryad was like a mind reader—I’d not only woken up to find her waiting for me, but somehow she’d gotten ahold of what we’d worn last night and had it all cleaned. I wonder who does the dry cleaning in this place? Magic brooms? I turned to greet her.

But it wasn’t Elspeth. Instead of the somewhat woody friendliness of my personal tree spirit, there loomed Jimmu. He stood silently across the pool from me, having emerged from what I could now see was a little path bisecting the dense tropical vegetation surrounding the grotto. He was only wearing a pair of black board shorts and he must have been working out. He glistened with sweat and piercings, including quite a few more that his shirtless state revealed. His Mohawk had fallen down to drip greasily around his face.

Let’s not forget the sword he’s carrying, my inner voice interrupted. At the sight of that sword, I wanted to flee but I found myself rooted to the spot.

We stood like that, staring at one another, for at least thirty seconds. I think he was as surprised to see me as I was to see him. The sword was sheathed, thank goodness, or there’s a distinct possibility I would have wet myself. All I know about swords I learned from watching Highlander, and this one definitely looked designed for decapitation.

My legs were finally working, and I made the mistake of taking a step back. Never show fear, I recalled, too late. Jimmu’s cold eyes narrowed, and he came toward me.

The pool was between us, so he had to skirt around it. I had more than enough time to run away: to hightail it out of the gate behind me and back to the Compound and safety. But I was motionless, hypnotized by Jimmu’s sinuous movements. He kept his eyes on me as he approached, and I finally understood Kipling’s descriptions of Rikki-tikki-tavi’s battle with the cobras Nag and Nagaina. Jimmu’s emotionless eyes held me captive, his serpentine physicality lulling my reflexes. I had no doubt that he intended to kill me—and yet I stood there, frozen, as if waiting for my lover rather than my murderer.

That’s not to say I wasn’t panicked. Fear was flooding through my system, and every voice rattling around in my head was screaming at me to move, to flee, to get the hell out of there. But those voices were overwhelmed by the weight of Jimmu’s gaze.

Suddenly there was another sound, straight ahead of me, from the hidden path Jimmu had just vacated. Jimmu halted his sinuous progress and then his tongue flickered between his lips. But he kept his eyes on me, holding me still.

He’s tasting the air, I realized, shuddering.

I couldn’t see my savior, although something was definitely there, crashing about in the vegetation. Jimmu’s eyes narrowed, and then he looked toward the sound, finally breaking his contact with me. My breath escaped with a whoosh as I was released from whatever spell I’d been under.

As I whisked around to run toward the gate to the Compound and away from the power of Jimmu’s gaze, I caught a glimpse of the naga unsheathing his sword and heading back the way he came. He was pursuing whoever had ruined his murderous intentions for me, and as I ran through the gate and flew through the courtyard I thanked my mystery rescuer with every ounce of my being. I knew it hadn’t just been a rabbit; the look on Jimmu’s face when he turned toward the noise was one of recognition and anger. And I couldn’t imagine Ryu hiding like that, so I had no idea who it was. I just hoped that whoever it had been knew what he or she was getting into, waking the wrath of Jimmu like that.

By this point I was well into the Compound, but I didn’t stop running till I saw my first creature. A passing cougar—which I hoped was a nahual and not the real deal—paused to look at me curiously, before shrugging its shoulders and shaking its head as it continued on its way. There were a few other beings flitting about the end of the large room I’d found myself in—some sort of music space, it looked like, from the instruments lining the walls—so I took the opportunity to double over, gasping for air. I had a terrific stitch in my side, and I seemed to have dropped my towel by the side of the pool. I was also covered with sweat, mostly from my shattered nerves, and shaking. In other words, I looked as good as I felt.

I also didn’t know what to do. I knew I needed to get back to Ryu; he was the one being I trusted in this Compound. And I had to tell him what had passed between Jimmu and me, not least because I didn’t think I was safe left alone.

There was no doubt in my mind that Jimmu’s intentions had not been to shake my hand and ask me about New England’s chances in the Super Bowl that year. He’d definitely wanted to commit some atrocious act of violence on my person, but why?

Just because I’m a halfling? I wondered. Or is there more to it?

I really hoped Jimmu wanted to kill me for a better reason than my genetic heritage, although I knew that humans were more than happy to massacre one another for that very reason. But if halflings like me were so hated that killing us was considered sporting by some of the supernatural community, then I would never be safe in my mother’s world.

And no longer entirely at home in your father’s…

I shook myself—now was not the time for reckoning with my future. Right now, I had to get to the safety of my room and Ryu without being hacked to death by snake-men. No small feat, I might add, since I had no idea where the fuck I was.

They really need to provide visitors with maps, I thought, looking around while trying to figure out which way to go. I normally had a really good sense of direction, but this place baffled my navigational systems.

I knew I didn’t want to return the way I came, in case Jimmu had finished chopping to bits whatever had interrupted us, so I went forward toward a large set of double doors. I felt foolish in my faded old swimsuit, but nobody paid me any attention. Which was good, since I was pretty convinced by Jimmu’s behavior that anybody could be out to kill me just because I was what I was. Not a nice feeling, I might add.

I quietly opened one of the big doors and slipped through. Shutting it gently, I turned around to find myself face to face with the Alfar queen, Morrigan.

Oh, crap, I thought, as I managed a particularly graceless little bow.

The queen nodded her head regally toward me. Standing, she was probably about five foot six but the power pulsing from her made me take a step back. Two lovely attendants stood slightly behind her, protectively, but when they saw who it was and what I was wearing, they backed away.

I’m not much of a threat, am I? I thought, wishing they’d share that opinion with Jimmu.

“Jane,” the queen’s heavy voice intoned, as she smiled slowly. “What a pleasure to see you.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” I replied.

“Did you rest well?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Did you enjoy our pool?”

“Oh, yes, thank you,” I said. For putting drugs in it, my inner crack fiend added. “It’s very strong,” I finished.

“Yes, it would be, for you.” Her eyes met mine and for the first time since we’d met I felt like she was really looking at me. “You live in Nell Gnome’s territory, no?” she asked. I tried not to giggle.

“Um, yes, I think so. Nell Gnome’s.” Say that twelve times fast.

The queen eyed me appraisingly. “She’ll have to train you. I’ll be in touch with her. We cannot leave you defenseless.”

No, we certainly can’t, I thought, recalling my paralysis in Jimmu’s presence.

“In the meantime, how are you enjoying your time in our Compound?” The queen took my arm, and I relaxed. Jimmu wasn’t going to get to me through Morrigan, and I doubted if the queen would let a houseguest get her head whacked off in front of her, even if I was just a halfling.

“Oh, it’s really lovely,” I said. Except for the threats of violence, my nearly engulfing myself in flames, and the fact that I’m always lost the minute I leave my room.

“It must be very strange for you, after spending all of your life among humans.”

“Yes, well, there are many things here that I find… challenging.” I figured that was diplomatic enough. “But it’s also very beautiful and very exciting.”

The queen inclined her beautiful head toward me and I thought I heard the faintest of laughs come from her lips. “It’s not often we Alfar are called exciting, although I suppose that, taken as a whole and with everything being so new to you, the Compound would seem intriguing.” She paused, briefly. “And our younger factions do race around so; they still enjoy such activities.”

And the Alfar don’t? I thought, skeptically. I’d seen the way Jarl looked at me, and his introducing me to Jimmu the way he did was definitely the first roll of the dice in some little game he was playing. Not that I knew what the game was, or how I fit into it.

Morrigan had led me back into the room with the instruments and then out a side door to the left. We walked down a few stone stairs into the first of a series of kitchens and other domestic areas. If I’d been expecting brooms sweeping by themselves, like in Fantasia, or pots stirred by unmanned spoons, like in Harry Potter, I was disappointed. There were many creatures at work here, although the nature of the creatures themselves was more than entertaining. There was a room full of washing machines being loaded by a particularly disgruntled looking orangutan, and I saw what had to be an ifrit lazily painting her nails as she sat beneath a large spit upon which an entire pig turned, roasting. A particularly voluptuous succubus waddled past us carrying a bucket of cleaning products, and I would have given my right eye to see her scrubbing something, anything, on her hands and knees. How do they get any work done? I wondered. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">