Elemental Havoc (Paranormal Public Book 11) (13 page)

I sat forward and squinted, like most of the rest of the hall, trying to see the picture. The rod was a deep warm gold, like the sun at dusk. It glimmered in the light and I rather thought one end was the tiniest bit thicker than the other.

“Can anyone tell me how long it has apparently been since the real Golden Rod was seen?”

No one raised a hand, even to make a guess.

“Exactly,” said Judge Yeast with relish.

I was staring hard at the woman who was standing up at the podium. She couldn’t possibly know about the witch beneath Dacer’s castle – or could she? Whenever she looked at me I flinched involuntarily, until it got so noticeable that Charlotte put her hand on my arm to stop me. I stopped, but it was a forced calm.

“The Golden Rod is all-powerful,” Yeast went on. “It is considered to be the first orb, the first wand, and the last line of magic that will ever exist. All other artifacts will fall and break, but the Golden Rod will shine on. Or so the story goes. With the rise of the Hunters, there is now a determined group of paranormals looking for a mode of power, something to set them apart. When the Nocturns battled the paranormals, they tried to break the Power of Five. Had they succeeded we would not be standing here today. They failed due to the quick thinking and hard work of government officials. Paranormals today are not slaves, only because of the power of a select few. Paranormals will not be so quickly run over.” She smiled out at the crowd, who were listening with glazed looks. I couldn’t tell if they felt rapture or apathy. Mostly I just felt fear.

“Hunters are perfecting their technique. They have sources we can’t dream of and a hiding place no one has yet found. How have they managed all of this? Right under the nose of the Quest government,” she said. A smile sliced across her mouth as she added, “Okay, so I suppose I cannot avoid politics entirely.”

The room shifted and I felt more eyes turn toward Charlotte, who continued to sit placidly, her hands crossed gently in her lap. No trace of annoyance showed on her face, at least to the untrained eye, but I knew better. I was her little brother, and I had spent years practicing how to annoy her as much as possible, so I knew the signs. Her eyes were slightly closed and her mouth was parted, and I could tell she was trying to breathe through her anger and failing.

“I don’t like her,” I said afterwards.

“She has a presence about her,” said Charlotte.

I glared at her. “Aren’t you on Sip’s side? When it comes time for elections, who are you going to vote for anyway?”

Charlotte laughed. “I may vote for Sip, but she’ll have to earn it. I suppose since you don’t like her, you don’t want to go to dinner with us?”

“Oh, that sounds amazing,” said Eighellie. “I would do anything to go!”

“No, that’s okay,” I said. “I think I’ve had enough fun for one evening.” I glared at the bouncy ball to my right, the very picture of achievement, her eyes burning brightly as she stared at Charlotte. My sister had noticed, and she tried to hide a smile by turning her head in the other direction. But I saw it. My sister always liked annoying girls like Eighellie!

“We’ll get our own dinner,” I said. Eighellie frowned but didn’t contradict me. I could see that underneath the excitement she was still shy around my famous sister.

“Together?” that sister asked slyly.

“Come on, let’s get out of here, before she asks something embarrassing,” said Keegan.

“It was good to see you two and to meet you, Eighellie,” said Charlotte, grinning evilly.

“You’d think she would remember what it was like,” Keegan huffed.

“Pretty sure the problem is that she does,” I said. My sister liked mischief. It wasn’t as obvious as it was with Sip, and the werewolf’s love of trouble had been tamed slightly by her ascension to presidency, but still, my sister liked to cause trouble, which was partly why I’d had the good sense not to introduce her to any girls before. Okay, I hadn’t known any girls before, but still, I could tell that now that I had, she was tickled to have the opportunity to tease us.

Keegan groaned. “Yeah, she seems like the type. Good thing I never had a sister.”

“You don’t want a sister because you think she’d meddle?”

“Course she’d meddle, she’d be a sister,” said Keegan. “That’s like, part of their makeup or something. It doesn’t go away when they get haircuts.”

The second lecture was to be given that evening by Professor Fussfus, who was an expert on the artifacts that the Hunters had gathered and still sought to gather, including, but by no means limited to, the Counter Wheel. Eighellie, who had disappeared between lectures, came back looking angry.

“What is it?”

“Oh, I went into town to buy some cream,” she said. “I mean, the Public store has such things and the school supplies another kind too, but . . .”

“Neither is good enough for you,” Keegan interrupted.

“Something like that. I like what I like and I’m not sorry about it. From now on I’m going to make my own creams, though,” said Eighellie with feeling. “ANYWAY, I went into Surround thinking they might have more options, and they refused to sell me anything! Not only that, but the clerk was rude! I don’t know what to make of it. It wasn’t easy getting back onto campus, either. The TP kept asking me questions about why I had left and what business I had in Surround, just as if I was some sort of nefarious criminal.”

“You are a nefarious criminal,” Keegan pointed out. “Don’t be upset when paranormals figure it out.”

“I’m not a criminal yet,” said Eighellie. “I just have criminal intent.”

“Ah, yes, that’s all very different,” said Keegan. “Anyway, you were treated badly.”

“VERY badly,” she corrected him. “I didn’t know the hostility between the town and the school was so bad.”

“Yeah, the townspeople feel like the school kids look down on them and don’t appreciate all their hard work. I told my mom as much and she said that’s how she feels as a parent every day, whatever that means.”

“Lecture number two!” cried a voice from inside the hall, so we headed for our seats. The discussion of Surround would have to wait.

Charlotte was again sitting in the front, but this time there was no sign of Judge Yeast. I figured she must not have thought it worth her while to stay. All my professors were there, though, including Penny, as was Charlotte’s secretary, who was quietly leaning over and speaking in her ear. There weren’t as many students as there had been for the afternoon lecture, but the space was still essentially full because there were more adults this time, sprinkled amongst the students and looking around curiously. I wondered exactly what sort of expert Professor Fussfus was, but Charlotte was bound to tell us soon enough.

“This is the youngest full professor in the paranormal world,” said Eighellie. “I can’t wait to hear what he has to say.”

“I can’t wait to play video games,” said Keegan. “No offense to Charlotte,” he added, looking over at me.

Charlotte returned to the lectern looking just as composed as she had in the afternoon. I knew she was really excited for the start of the series, but she was hiding it well, just as she had hidden her anger earlier. Her goal had been to retain some dignity throughout, and I thought she was succeeding nicely.

“Good evening and thank you again for participating in the new speaker series. It’s always important to explore all points of view, and your attendance means a lot to me, especially those of you with homework.” She paused to allow the light chuckles. “Our second speaker is known far and wide. He made a name for himself when he was appointed the youngest professor of artifacts, indeed the only professor of artifacts, in the world. Although Professor Fussfus works primarily at Oracle University, he does sometimes give guest lectures like the one tonight. And without further ado . . .”

Charlotte stepped aside to allow Professor Fussfus the stand. He was a thin, nervous-looking man, and his clothes were pressed so thoroughly that he himself seemed stiff.

“Thank you, Ms. Rollins. I must say it’s such an honor to meet you after having heard so much about you. Your mastery of the Power of Five and the object on the Wheel . . . masterful.” He was looking at Charlotte and smiling. She gave a sort of awkward nod in return. After a moment, Professor Fussfus seemed to remember himself, and he returned his attention to his audience.

“There is an underground network of paranormals who seek to dispose of all traces of darkness. These are fighters for light and for the greater good, but at some point their mission was lost. Along the way they decided to stop at nothing to decimate the true dark, thus becoming dark themselves. Without a premier to guide them, and with the evil purpose of possessing all the artifacts, a goal that, if achieved, would have given them ultimate power, they went down a path of murder and destruction.

“The Hunters have a creed. They believe that Lisabelle Verlans is the root cause of the problem, because Lisabelle harnesses the demons of power. Hellhounds and demons, each type, are thought to be very dangerous. It doesn’t matter to either them or you if they die, because more will rise to take the place of the dead. Their one goal is the spreading of night. Lisabelle, as the ringleader of that teeming and scary band, is thought to bear the blame for concentrating the paranormal world’s fear. There is nothing she can do about it.

“The Hunters see no difference between a vampire wanting to defend the paranormals, and a pixie. Darkness calls to darkness – so the saying goes – and so we answer the call with might and power. If the Quest government won’t protect the paranormals, then we must do it ourselves, so the Hunters believe. Or at least that’s what they like to think they believe. In truth, they are simply happy to cause hurt and pain if it means they get what they want, which is the very opposite of good.

“The ancient artifacts are not just a way of preserving the sacred histories. More, they are a way of keeping them alive today. Of course, the ultimate prize is the set of artifacts on the Counter Wheel.”

“The last, ominous notion of the Darkness Hunters is one connected with Lisabelle Verlans. They are gathering as many artifacts as possible, and they aren’t looking to destroy them. At first it was thought that the artifacts weren’t a major concern, but with the destruction of so much power over the last five years, it has become clear to Lisabelle that they are in fact the only topic worth thinking about, at least if she wants to survive.

“The root of the issue here is the artifacts: Who possesses them, and what is known about their abilities? As with the powers of paranormals themselves, did those abilities evolve over time? Or are they constant?

“I believe that at this moment the Hunters are suffering from an identity crisis,” said the thin man standing at the lectern. For a split second he stopped speaking and blinked several times. The pause was long enough to make several paranormals shift and exchange looks. Professor Fussfus had gone very pale in the face, as if he had seen a ghost.

“The Hunters did not set out to do so much damage. They thought that gathering the artifacts and turning other paranormals to their side would be easy, but in fact it was not. Once they realized that other paranormals, such as President Quest, were not simply going to lie down and agree to whatever they wanted, including the death of the all-powerful darkness premier, they were forced to change tactics. Those tactics turned into the deadly ones that we now are now seeing. I fear there will be more bloodshed as they go about their dangerous mission of finding the Golden Rod and destroying darkness once and for all.”

Professor Fussfus’s lecture wasn’t long. In fact, it was surprisingly short, so short that it appeared to confuse Charlotte. Professor Fussfus tried to depart the lectern the moment he was finished, prompting Charlotte to raise her eyebrows and say, calmly, “Oh, the plan was to take time for a few questions.”

“Ah, right, of course,” said the professor. “Apologies. Questions it is.” His body continued to twitch in the direction of the exit, but he made no move to leave again.

Eighellie hurried up to the microphone, cutting off a couple of other students in order to get there first. She was making no secret of the fact that she was determined to speak. “Isn’t it true that if Lisabelle Verlans were to disappear, it would create a vacuum of sorts and could potentially lead to more problems rather than fewer?” Her questions created a cascade of murmurs throughout the hall; clearly she had touched a nerve. I looked around to see heads shaking and students muttering. To my surprise, many of the paranormals were casting glances my way.

The thin paranormal on the stage paused before answering the student, but while he waited he nodded his head slightly, as if to himself. Meanwhile, his comb over never moved.

“It is true, but it is simpler to hate than not,” he said. Eighellie was clearly about to ask another question, but Fussfus held up his hands and said, “I’m sorry, but I must depart. All the best to all of you. Thank you again SO much for having me.” He hurried away from the lectern and stepped quickly down the stairs, not even pausing to speak with Charlotte, who was clearly confused. There had been a line of several paranormals behind Eighellie, but none of them looked like they cared very much that they hadn’t been able to ask their questions. Most of the students started slowly filing out, although some milled around in the aisles. Charlotte said something to Professor Penny, then disappeared from the hall.

“Is she going to yell at Fussfus for running away?” Keegan asked. “I bet she doesn’t yell often, but when she does it’s scary.”

“I don’t remember the last time Charlotte yelled,” I said. “She hated to yell at me. If she ever did, she’d always creep back later feeling all guilty.”

“And you’re amused by that? You’re a horrible brother,” said Keegan with a shake of his head.

I ignored him. “Eighellie’s coming back,” I pointed out. “She’s the only paranormal in this entire place who looks disappointed.” Indeed, Eighellie immediately expressed her frustration at not getting more of her burning questions answered.

“Hey, that was awesome,” she said breathlessly. “I wish he had stuck around. I wanted to ask him about my parents.”

“Why would he know anything about your parents?” Keegan asked.

“Their movements at the time are well documented, but obviously something went wrong. They shouldn’t have been discovered the way they were. Anyway, your sister is awesome,” she said, turning to me. “Sad it doesn’t run in the family.”

“Ha, that was funny,” I said. “Come on, let’s go find her.”

We waited in the back hallway for a while, but Charlotte didn’t reappear. After glancing down the hallway repeatedly, hoping that this time she’d be coming toward us, I commented on the obvious: “They’re taking a really long time, aren’t they?”

“Where are they?” Keegan asked.

“Charlotte said that each speaker had his or her own dressing room of sorts, so I imagine that’s where Fussfus went, and she must have followed him there,” I said. All the other students and professors had by this time disappeared.

A vague sense of unease settled over me when my sister didn’t reappear.

After a while, I heard a door slam, and then yelling. I darted forward with Eighellie and Keegan close behind me.

Down at the other end of the hallway Charlotte came racing toward us. “Should you be running like that?”

“Oh, hush, and go find Keller. Or any fallen angel. Something’s happened to Professor Fussfus! He’s been attacked.”

Professor Fussfus was in a coma from which he couldn’t be awakened. Right after the lecture was over he had hurried away as if he had somewhere to be and wanted to leave quickly; we had all seen him go. When Charlotte went to thank him for his talk and perhaps find out why he had stopped so abruptly, she found him unconscious on the floor. He’d been hit over the head, and what was worse, whatever had hit him had been laced with an agent meant to kill him. Slowly. Luckily the fallen angels had banded together to save his life, but in order to do so they had been forced to induce a coma. No one was sure if he would come out of it intact, or if he’d be able to identify his attacker even if he did.

I stayed with Charlotte to comfort her. Her upset was punctuated by anger at the fact that her lecture series had been ruined by yet more violence almost before it began.

“This is awful,” said Charlotte. “First the TPs went missing and now this. Obviously I want Professor Fussfus to be alright, but even if that happens, the lecture series is dead in the water.” She looked around blankly, her eyes filled with sadness. “Public’s reputation was already hanging by a thread,” she groaned as she hid her face in her hands.

“Wait, what are you talking about?” I asked. She was in her and Keller’s sitting room, which was in a house on the Astra grounds but luckily not in Astra Dorm. She liked the cottage better, she said; leave the dorm to the young. They had gone for a rustic warmth that felt very homey and comfortable. I knew the TPs were missing, but I hadn’t realized that she knew it too.

“Damnit! I shouldn’t have said that,” she said.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I already knew.”

“You did? How?” She asked suspiciously.

When I didn’t answer immediately, she threw up her hands. “You listened in on someone’s conversation, didn’t you.” It was a statement, not a question. “Ricky! You know that’s not right,” she chided me.

“Yeah, sorry,” I mumbled.

“Anyway yeah, they’re missing,” she said. “Dobrov is trying to track down whether it was just a clerical error or what, but it’s likely that they were specifically stolen, for who knows what reason. Why anyone would want to sneak onto the campus of a university that gets its guest speakers heads bashed in I’ll never know.”