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Authors: Wen Spencer

Wood Sprites (45 page)

BOOK: Wood Sprites
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“He’s too big, Louise,” Anna continued. “He’ll take up too much room in the car.”

“He can sit on the floor!” Louise stepped forward to take Anna’s hand. It was an old woman’s hand, veins a vivid blue under the pale, tight dry skin. It was like their Grandma Mayer’s hands, but she had been all sweetness and forgetfulness and prone to sudden naps. She would hold their nut-brown hands in hers and try to guess which twin they were. Anna had always gotten their names right.

Tristan had said his mother was a fortune-teller. Did Anna see the future just like Esme? How had Esme kept her mother from knowing everything? Anna hadn’t known anything until Esme came to see her, and then she had the dreams of the cabbage patch. Had Esme avoided her mother because contact exposed each one’s secrets to the other?

Louise stared at her hand caught tight in Anna’s. If that were true, then every moment with her was dangerous. But jerking her hand free might seem as insulting as a slap to the face. She forced herself to squeeze Anna’s hand tighter. “Please?”

Anna sighed. “Oh, all right. You can bring your toy.”

* * *

They rode in the limo to a furniture store in Manhattan, two different male drivers than last time but both unmistakably elves. Where did Ming keep them all hidden? Was there a separate house stuffed to the rafters with them? Nikola had his nose pressed against the window, staring in fascination at the parts of the city he’d never seen before. Jillian hunched over her phone, answering his silent questions.

The salesman at the furniture store caught sight of the limo and was waiting at the door with badly hidden excitement. He didn’t glance at Jillian or Louise, staying locked on to Anna as if laser-guided. “How can I help you, madame?”

“I need bedroom sets for my granddaughters.” Anna waved toward the twins. “You do sell furniture for children?”

He deflated and eyed the girls for the first time. Obviously children’s beds didn’t fetch as big a commission as adult furniture. “Yes. We do. An entire floor of it. Let me show you!”

He led them to an elevator, and they went up to the topmost floor. The first large room was a vast sea of cribs and toddler beds. The room beyond was devoted to furniture fit for princesses. Most of it was pink. Even the white-painted pieces were accented with ribbons and bows of pink. There was a Hello Kitty set and a coach straight out of Cinderella.

“Gag me,” Jillian muttered darkly.

“We don’t like pink,” Louise stated. “Do you have anything less girly-girl?”

The salesman looked to Anna.

Anna considered Louise and Jillian as if with X-ray eyes. “Do you have anything more exotic?”

“Exotic? Y-y-yes!” The word started as an automatic statement as the salesman thought frantically and then became a solid confirmation as he thought of something appropriate. “In our adult bedroom section. We just got it in this morning.”

Anna flicked her hand, indicating that he should show the way.

They went back downstairs, through a room so crowded with leather sofas that the air was thick with the scent of cured hides. Jillian gasped when they came around the corner to the first bedroom set. It looked like a room lifted out of an Elvish home. All the pieces were intricately carved from ironwood and stained the color of dark honey, bringing out the luminescent gold grain. The canopied bed was draped in white fairy silk that looked magical even under the showroom spotlights. The lamps on the marble-topped nightstands looked like gnarled branches holding small round LED bulbs like elf shines. The price tag discreetly displayed on the end table gave a staggering amount for the set and noted “special order” with no estimate of delivery time. It was totally and utterly perfect.

“All the pieces are solid ironwood and are nearly unbreakable despite their delicate appearance. It’s handcrafted on Elfhome using spells and magically sharp tools. It’s one of a kind and unique on this world.”

“Oh, Grandma,” Jillian breathed, only partially faking her enchantment. “Can we have this one?”

Anna obviously melted, just as Jillian had intended. “Of course you can.”

Louise bumped Jillian slightly. The logical tactic would have been to only vaguely like the furniture and extend out the shopping for as many days as possible.

“Our floor will need to be redone,” Jillian pointed out. “This hardwood has been stained black. The white flokati rug is just stunning against it.”

Anna frowned slightly. “Louise, what do you think?”

“I love the bed,” Louise said with all honesty. The more changes they could demand to Lain’s room, the longer they could delay moving into it. “And I love this rug!” She bent down to run her hand over the thick shag. It was like petting a sheep. “It’s so soft and warm. And I really like how everything looks on the dark wood.”

“The black seems too depressive to me,” Anna said.

“Please!” Jillian cried.

Anna didn’t seem swayed by Jillian’s cuteness on the color. She was probably thinking of Esme and all the black-painted furniture.

Louise sought to appeal to Anna’s intelligence. “The floor needs to be assertive to counterbalance the size of the bed. If the two are too close in tone, they’ll clash, and if they match, they’ll wash each other out.”

Anna’s eyebrows went up in surprise, and then she smiled. “All right. At least the rug will cover most of the black. I’ll want the largest one you stock.”

Louise waited uneasily as the salesman wrote up the order.

“This is a custom piece,” the salesman explained. “We got the display in a few hours ago, straight from Elfhome. You’re the first ones to see it. We expect it to be popular with the upcoming royal wedding.” He paused in the middle of filling out the order form. “You did hear the news this morning? About the wedding?”

“No,” Anne said in a tone that stated firmly that she didn’t care.

Jillian, however, fed him a line to keep him going. “What royal wedding?”

“Prince Windwolf is alive, and he’s getting married. Total
The Queen’s Salvage
.”

“Pardon?” Anna said coldly.

“L-lemon-Lime?” he stuttered. “Videos? Pop culture? A human girl saved the viceroy and they’ve fallen in love. Her name is Tinker, and she’s a hoverbike racer! There haven’t been any pictures of her yet; everyone expects her to look like the video, but what are the odds?”

Zero. Louise had stolen the heroine in the videos from her dream of Nigel; she was Valkyrie-tall, blond and seemingly able to produce guns from thin air. At least Louise had the comfort of knowing that Nigel would find a heavily armed ally on Elfhome.

Louise tried to push the conversation past the videos. “How long will it take to get our order in? Today? Next Shutdown?”

“We phoned the manufacturer as soon as we heard about the news this morning. People always go gaga over royal weddings; every woman in the city has fantasized about Prince Windwolf at least once. It’s a small furniture company, but they assured us that they could have another set ready in two months.”

Jillian ducked her head to hide her grin. Louise felt her stomach drop. Two months for anyone else, but Anna had the family trait of plowing through everything in her way to get what she wanted. She wanted to get them out of Esme’s bedroom as quickly as possible. She wasn’t going to let anything slow her down.

“I’ll take the display model then,” Anna stated firmly.

The salesman visibly jerked to a full halt. “What?”

“I came to this store to buy quality furniture, not wait for two months for a knockoff copy.”

“This furniture is handmade on Elfhome.”

“It’s made in Pittsburgh by a human, whom you called on the phone. You implied that it’s made by elves. ‘Spells and magically sharp tools.’ I have no way of knowing if the set that the human is capable of creating in two months is anywhere near this level of quality.”

“I-I-I never said that elves . . .” The salesman flailed as Anna plowed through him.

“We want this set,” Anna said firmly. “Now. I would suggest you don’t offer anything else or I’ll have my lawyers draw up a bait-and-switch lawsuit.”

The salesman blinked at her for a minute and a half, gears spinning wildly as he considered all the ramifications. Without a sample, he couldn’t sell more sets, but there was a chance that no one else would be willing to pay for such expensive furniture. Or that another salesperson might close the future sales. His eyes went to the confirmation of payment from Anna’s bank. The amount could have bought their house in Astoria. He winced, obviously thinking of the commission he would lose if Anna backed out of the sale.

Anna relented and sweetened the deal. “Deliver it within the week and we’ll take a second identical set.”

“Identical?” the salesman’s voice broke. “Okay. How does tomorrow sound?”

Another night, another nightmare.

Louise jerked awake, breaking free of the bad dream. She’d gone to sleep feeling safe in the high loft bed, but the nightmare had stripped away all sense of being protected by Esme’s spirit. Panting with fear, Louise touched each of her family members to make sure they were all safely huddled around her. Jillian was curled into a tight ball, her back pressing against Louise. Joy slept tucked between them. Nikola lay carefully beside her so his weight wouldn’t crush them.

Nikola lifted his head as she sat up. “What’s wrong?”

“I had a bad dream. Bad, bad dream!” She hugged him tight, using his solid presence to drive away the horrible visions. Since arriving at the mansion, every night she’d had a nightmare, but this one was the worst. Ming had locked the twins in a birdcage, deep in caves under the mansion. All the babies had been killed when Nikola tried to free the twins. “Promise me you won’t fight. Please, whatever happens, don’t ever try to protect me or Jillian.”

“But—but—but that’s my function.”

“No, that was Tesla’s function, but you’re not Tesla. You’re Nikola and I love you so much and I couldn’t stand to lose you. You have to be made into real babies and get to do everything real people do. You need to laugh and eat and sleep.”

“I don’t know. Sleep doesn’t seem to be very interesting. You just lie there.”

“Please promise me. You’re really just a little fragile egg inside of Tesla. If that egg breaks, you’ll die. Tesla has to protect you.”

“If someone is hurting you . . .”

“Jillian and I can get ourselves out of any problem we get into. We’ve been doing it for a long, long time. If someone grabs one or both of us, or locks us up, or even if they seem to hurt us, you can’t do anything to try and save us. Promise me that you won’t.”

“Lou!” he whimpered.

“You have to trust us, Nikola. We can take care of ourselves. You need to trust us to do that.”

“Sometimes I feel so useless.”

“If things go bad, the most useful thing you can do is to just pretend you’re a robot that anyone can order around.”

“Just do nothing while someone is hurting—”

“You’ll be doing something. You’ll be acting. Just like Jillian was Peter Pan in the play. Your character is the robot dog, Tesla, and nothing more.”

He made a soft whimpering noise. Louise suspected that if he were a real little boy, he’d be crying. It was so sad that all he could do was little half vocalizations so it sounded like he was mumbling “Ow . . . ow . . . ow . . . ow.” She was sure that the pain was real, but he had no way to shed tears.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” She stroked his head. “It was just a dream.”

Only she knew it wasn’t.

How ironic that she’d discovered that she actually had a special magical gift, only to have it scare the shit out of her. This
knowing
was confusing and horrifying. She could see the future, and it was the stuff of nightmares. Obviously there had to be a way to use her ability to pick a future she wanted; Ming wouldn’t hold Anna so dear if he couldn’t use her gift for his own gain. Louise felt like she was trapped in a maze with dozens of literal “dead” ends.

She’d been keeping her promise to Aunt Kitty, unconsciously waiting for her to pull off some legal miracle so that they could live with her. Louise had been too scared to be honest with herself. Jillian might have spent the last ten days curled up in bed, but Louise truthfully hadn’t been much better. She’d limited herself to spying on the secret elves and being overwhelmed by everything.

The awful truth was that Aunt Kitty wasn’t going to win custody of the twins. She didn’t have the money to win a legal battle against Anna. The only way the girls could live with her was if she took them and ran. To stay hidden, Aunt Kitty would have to abandon her songwriting career, something she’d worked her entire life to create. If they were found, Aunt Kitty could be arrested for kidnapping. The best their aunt could hope for was simply going bankrupt, and the worst was spending the rest of her life in prison.

Her dreams were full of danger. Dark caves. Cages. Dark wings. Fire. Things falling out of the sky. Jillian falling from great heights. Nikola battered and broken and dying.

Only one thing was clear. The moment they tried to flee, Ming would bring to bear all his massive resources to recapture them.

Obviously she had to take away all his assets before they fled.

* * *

The next morning a work crew invaded Lain’s old bedroom. Tall, lean, and beautiful, they looked more like movie stars than construction workers. They spoke French to each other loudly, but when they were talking quietly, a word or two of Elvish would slip in. Louise sat against the door of the connecting bathroom, keeping track of the workers’ progress. She had wanted to use a spy camera, but she was afraid the elves would find it as they remodeled the room.

While they worked with the slow, deliberate care of craftsmen, there were several of them, they worked without taking breaks, and the room wasn’t that large. In a day they had sanded down the floor by hand, swept it clean, wiped it down with mineral spirits, applied a dark stain and then several coats of sealer. The next day the secret elves returned to paint. Slowly. Carefully.

She felt like she was in a race against them. When they were finished, Anna would want to move on to Esme’s bedroom. If Ming found the secret room, everything would unravel. The secret elves would search Tesla and find the babies. They would trap Joy. And if the twins lost the rest of their family, Jillian would break so completely, there would be no fixing her.

Before that happened, they had to cripple Ming and flee the mansion. She and the babies studied Desmarais’ sprawling empire, trying to figure out how to wreak the greatest havoc.

It quickly became apparent how dependent Ming was on Anna for his wealth. His oldest surviving company bred champion-quality animals. There had been other companies that had done well and then failed as he refused to change his business plan to cope with changes in technology and cultural ideals. He’d been a plantation owner in Huntsville, Alabama, prior to the Civil War. All that had survived the war was a company that built quality horse coaches, but that died as cars took over. He’d had a large distillery that hadn’t survived Prohibition. Toward the end of the last century, he’d been rich but not impressively so, for as many mouths he had to feed. Immediately after marrying Anna, a series of successful high-risk investments skyrocketed his wealth to a level comparable with that of small countries. Judging by the current financial newsfeeds, Anna continued to make huge gambles with their wealth.

No wonder Ming had banished Tristan from the mansion; billions of dollars were at risk. Tristan had said his mother was a fortune-teller, and Ming didn’t want Anna distracted, so both of the males knew that Anna had a magically enhanced gift. How had Ming found Anna in the first place?

Their paths apparently crossed in Huntsville, where Ming still had an estate, and astronaut Neil Shenske was training at the Marshall Space Flight Center. Anna worked as an investment banker at a small firm. Within weeks of Ming’s meeting her, Neil was dead, and a few months later, besieged by a series of disasters like her house burning down and her car being stolen, Anna married Ming.

Was Esme right? Had Ming killed her father in order to claim Anna’s ability for himself? If he had, he’d been careful not to leave any evidence behind. Esme only had nightmares as proof.

Which raised the question: Why wasn’t Anna plagued by the same dreams as Esme? Did Ming use some kind of magic spell to keep Anna unaware of his more questionable activities?

Proof of his invasion plans of Elfhome was everywhere as long as you understood the shape of his ambitions. Tracking the money, Louise could practically roadmap his activities. He did own a controlling interest in several of the television networks and news agencies, so he could filter information coming from Elfhome. He also owned three of the largest companies legally shipping goods into Pittsburgh. Through holding companies, he controlled dozens of others, creating a vast network of possibly illegal transportation. Two of which were under investigation. One had funded the Earth for Humans bomber Roycroft. The other company had been involved in the June Shutdown shoot-out on Veterans Bridge.

What didn’t make sense was that he was also funneling massive amounts of food, medicine, and weapons to a tiny island in the South China Sea. While Google Maps showed only a sparsely inhabited circle of land, redirected military satellites revealed a beehive of activity. Cargo ships sat at a big dock that nearly dwarfed the island while shipping containers were unloaded via cranes. According to the manifest of one ship pulling away from the dock, it was leaving empty. Material was flowing in but nothing was being shipped out. Where was it all going? Onihida? A quick check confirmed that the island was directly below the hyperphase gate in geostationary orbit. Apparently the same effect that caused Pittsburgh to shift universes to Elfhome also made this island go to Onihida. During Shutdown, everything that had been stockpiled would have been loaded onto boats on Onihida.

Ming’s people had created an army of monsters on Onihida to invade Elfhome, but they were going to be armed with weapons from Earth. While the
domana
-caste could go toe-to-toe with tanks, they were few and far between. Most elves had nothing more sophisticated than bows and arrows. What elves survived the slaughter, Ming was going to enslave.

So how could Louise throw this operation into mayhem? What she really wanted to do was bomb it out of existence. She eyed the port with its growing stockpile. Ironically, bombs were currently being off-loaded. Specifically, ammo for a shoulder-launched multipurpose assault weapon. A fire would work well enough, if she could cause one big enough. What did she have to work with? Four ships, all with diesel engines, mostly controlled by computers. Several container cranes that appeared about fifteen stories tall—also computer controlled. An entire shipyard filled with chemicals and fuel. She should be able to create a small disaster that would lead to something bigger.

Technically, she’d only promised Aunt Kitty that they would try to be good. Aunt Kitty had tacked on the “don’t blow anything up” afterwards, so that really didn’t count. And “be good” was subjective. Stopping an invasion was being good—wasn’t it?

Louise focused on one of the ships that had a ridiculous amount of ammonium nitrate fertilizer. What was Ming going to do with that much? The volume nearly guaranteed that the blast would reach munitions. How to ignite it? She ran through the manifest to see what else was on the ship. At the center of the ship was a shipping container filled with potassium. She had no idea what idiots would ship potassium on a boat when the material exploded on contact with water. But there it was, all but gift-wrapped. She merely had to release the shipping container while it was nine stories up. Gravity and the ocean would take care of the rest.

She felt like a stage manager again as she reached out and took hold of the various computers on the other side of the world. The curtain was about to rise on a new act. Cue the war drums. Bring up the lights. Set the actors into motion.

* * *

Annoyingly, she lost control of the distant computers immediately after the first explosion. She took it as a good sign, but it was annoying that she couldn’t be sure that the entire daisy chain of explosions would actually reach the munitions.

Hopefully it would draw Ming’s attention and resources to the other side of the planet. It was a big flashy disaster to draw his attention from the more quiet attacks that she had planned. Now to start the more local damage.

She did a quick search and found a Canadian website that worked with governments of certain countries to set up shell corporations. She wanted the companies she used to be as legal as possible to make it harder for Ming to take back his money, just in case he ever managed to track it all down. For a small fee for each transaction, the Canadian legal firm created dozens of shell companies scattered around the world. Another small fee, and she had a matching number of perfectly legal Singapore bank accounts, owned by the companies in such privacy-minded countries as Belize and Malta. It took her less than a half hour. It was a lot easier to set up bank accounts when you weren’t concerned about breaking the law. If she were caught, being taken away from her guardian would be the least of her worries.

The offshore accounts set up, she turned her attention to the massive sprawl of Ming’s holdings. He kept them isolated from each other to make it harder for anyone to realize the extent of his wealth. Hopefully, it would also make it harder for Ming to realize someone was systematically cleaning them all out. Still, once he noticed, every transfer increased the likelihood of him intercepting her. How long before the explosion distracted him?

In the next room, the painters finished up painting. During the last two days, Louise had come to recognize individual voices. The workers’ supervisor was a female that Anna believed to be named Cosette, but whom the other elves called Dovetail. As Louise listened, Dovetail announced that she would install the lighting, but she wanted to wait on hanging curtains and moving in the furniture. Louise breathed out in relief; another day of work before Dovetail could call the room finished.

BOOK: Wood Sprites
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