Portal (Nina Decker) (9 page)

“A girl after my own heart,” said Dani as she ordered herself some of the roast.

“Just be careful with the other dishes. A lot of these stews and roasted skewers are organ meats. I don’t mind myself. The new hot place in Hollywood is this place that specializes in Nasty Bits. But just ask and the brownies will tell you what part of the animal your dish comes from.”

“Thanks,” I muttered.

The king and his guests went back to eating. I breathed easier, or as easy I could in that damn dress. But I realized I was at a huge disadvantage. This land, this castle, these people were an utter mystery to me. Before I could help Severin or my father I needed to change that. And there was one person here who seemed eager to help.

“I’ve got some more questions, but they aren’t about the menu,” I said.

“I’d be happy to help out. Just think of me as your fae search engine. What do you want to know first?”

That was a good question. Where should I start? A good place seemed to be at the beginning.

“Tell me about the war between the fae and the werewolves. The straight story no propaganda.”

Dani didn’t answer right away. She waited until R’Agan and N’Tasha had left their seats to mingle with some of the handsome fae men circulating about the room. I checked on the king and queen. They were both deeply involved in a conversation with the wizard Simeon.  J’Tara and Dashrael were at the far end of the table and appeared to be safely out of ear shot.

“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” I whispered to Dani.

“Don’t be too concerned. I don’t mind giving you the real deal. The worst that happens is they kick my little behind back to the Hollywood Hills. Besides it’s a great story. I’ve been trying to figure out how to turn it into a miniseries.”

She polished off a few more bites of roast meat and washed it down with a cup of wine. Then she began her tale.

“First the back story. As you probably heard, the fae lived alongside mortals during the bronze age and everything was hunky dory. Then the iron comes along and the fae have to move out and find new digs and so they come to Nightfall. Along with the werewolves.”

“Wait the werewolves came to Nightfall?” I asked.

“More like they were brought here,” Dani explained. “As slaves.”

I had assumed as much, by Severin’s attitude toward my mother and toward the fae in general.

Dani continued, “After the back story comes Act One, liberation, the First Lycan War. Around the Earth year 800 AD or so, a group of werewolves escaped back to the mortal realm. Nightfall sent warriors to retrieve them. The werewolves fought back and freed more of their kin. This war gave birth to most of the folklore surrounding faeries and werewolves.  So the war went on. More and more wolves escaped. Finally they gathered in large numbers and in a mighty battle they beat back the fae sent after them.”

This was something I had never heard before. I had no reason to doubt it. Dani wasn’t sugar coating the fae’s past crimes. She seemed to be reveling in repeating them.

“So what happened after that?” I asked.

Dani picked at her teeth with a lethally long nail.  “For a while peace. But there were still werewolf slaves in Nightfall.  So the werewolves of Earth gathered their own army and the returned to liberate their fellows. And thus we have Act Two, Retribution the Second Lycan War. The werewolves stormed through the portals. But very quickly their war of liberation turned into a war of conquest.”

“Conquest?” I asked.

“Mm hm. Nobody here likes to remember but there were areas of Nightfall that were under werewolf control for centuries. It looked like the werewolves were going to completely overrun the land.  That’s when-“

Dani stopped and looked to make sure she wasn’t being overheard. Despite her bravado this next bit must’ve been really explosive. She leaned in close and whispered in my ear. “That’s when he took the throne.”

She leaned back and tilted her head in the direction of Lord Wolfstriker. I glanced quickly at my grandfather. He was eating his flower strewn salad and didn’t appear concerned with us. Next to him his Chancellor Dashrael was eating a whole raw fish on a bed of seaweed. Despite this my gaze lingered on him. I felt a twinge of embarrassment and shame. Severin was still locked in the tower and I was checking out another man. But it wasn’t just Dashrael’s ravishing appearance that held my attention. I still felt a deep recognition. I had met him somewhere before.

But I focused on Lord Wolfstriker and what Dani had just implied.  I leaned back close to her and whispered, “When you say took, you mean…”

In a hushed voice she answered, “The war was going really badly for the fae. The king at the time was stuck in the old ways. He’d had his warriors ride up and issue formal challenges. But the werewolves didn’t fight by the rules. They ambushed, they struck suddenly and used surprise.  New leadership was needed. That’s why no one really complained when what happened, happened.”

I thought to myself,
Great, so I’m descended from a line of usurpers to boot.

Dani continued, “Once your grandfather was on the throne things turned around. He fought the war on their terms.”

I said nothing but let her finish the story. It was curious to me why none of this was in any of the old books I’d read on the fae.

“The werewolves were driven out of Nightfall and a number of their leaders were taken prisoner and made slaves. Including Severin.”

I winced when she told me. So Severin had been a slave here. Was that his crime? Escaping? If it was then his imprisonment here is an injustice. I kept calm. This wasn’t the time to jump to conclusions. I needed to hear the full story.

“So how did he get free?” I asked.

Dani poked at a lone pea on her plate as she spoke, “So we come to the Act Three, The Third Lycan War, the subtitle for this one should be A Bloody Mess because that’s what it was. Of all the wars this one was the deadliest and the most inconclusive. In the end it was mostly a total waste.”

“What was it about? What started it?”

“At first it was about freeing the remaining werewolf slaves and prisoners but it just degenerated from there. There were attacks and counter attacks were made by both sides. Severin was freed during a raid. Part of the reason the war was so costly was because the Trolls got involved.”

“Trolls?”

Dani nodded towards a couple at one of the other tables. I hadn’t noticed them before amid the panorama of strange costumes. But now they were hard to miss.

There were two of them a man and a woman and there was an empty chair next to the woman. Both the man and the woman were big and thickly muscled. Both looked like they could be power lifting champions. And their skin was greyish green and their hair bright orange.  The fae gave wide berth and it was easy to see why. Their jewelry, rings, bracelets, necklaces, earrings and nose rings, they were all made of iron. I could sense it from across the room. The fae seated right next to them must have been in agony.

“The Greatstones, king and queen of the trolls,” Dani explained. “They got into the act during the third war. It’s impossible to bring iron into Nightfall through a fae portal, but the Troll Tunnels are a different story.”

“They sided with the werewolves?” I asked.

Dani nodded. “For a while. Things got really hairy there. The trolls gave them swords, axes, even firearms.”

“So what happened?”

“Lord Wolfstriker bought them off. They say he cleaned out the palace coffers to get King Greatstone to switch sides.”

The name “Greatstone” stuck in my mind. I’d heard it before. But where? Then I saw a young man walk towards the couple. He was a troll too, green skin and orange hair, but he was wearing jeans and a leather bomber jacket.

“That’s their son, Eric Greatstone,” said Dani.

Then I saw the blue and red patch of a pirate flag on the back of Eric’s jacket and that’s when it hit me. I’d seen him before.

Of course when I saw him he wasn’t green skinned and with orange hair. On TV he looked tan and had dishwater blonde hair. Eric Greatstone was president of a motorcycle club based near Seattle, the Emerald City Marauders. There were plenty of motorcycle clubs across North America. Most were legitimate. Some skirted the line between law abiding and outlaw. The Marauders came firmly down on the outlaw camp. They were suspected of gun running and murder for hire. Curiously, unlike most outlaw clubs they had full female members.

I knew about them because they had been in the Vancouver news a lot. I’d even stitched up one of their members. Apparently they had opened a chapter near the outskirts of the town. There had been a few fights but no major crime had been committed, yet. I knew the local cops were very nervous about the Marauders.  

I suddenly had a disturbing thought. Were they in Vancouver because of me? It was too much of a coincidence. But why was I important? There had to be more to the story.

“So when the trolls switched sides that was the end of it?” I asked.

“It should have been the end,” Dani said.

“What does that mean?”

Dani didn’t answer. Her sudden silence was disturbing.

“You’re shy all of a sudden?” I prodded. “You promised to tell me everything.”

“It’s kind of the point in the story where you come in,” Dani answered.

I took a deep breath. This was the part I’d been waiting for. “Go on.”

Dani hemmed and hawed for a moment. “Well it has to do with-”

A commotion at the front of the hall interrupted her. I couldn’t believe my eyes as a cowboy walked into the great hall.

“Speak of the devil,” said Dani. “And that’s not a metaphor.”

The man looked to be in his late forties or early fifties. He was grizzled and rugged but handsome. He wore jeans, a flannel shirt, sheepskin coat, a Stetson hat and a two-day stubble. He was also a werewolf like Severin. He had the same shagginess and clawed fingers.

“Linus Coldiron,” Dani said. “The greatest werewolf leader of them all.”

“He’s a cowboy?” I asked.

“Rancher,” Dani answered. “They say his spread is in Montana or Wyoming or Saskatchewan or Alberta. Maybe it covers all three.”

“That’s not even geographically possible,” I scoffed.

Dani replied, “It depends on whose geography you use.” 

The crowd parted for Coldiron. Everyone except Eric Greatstone who stood in the center pretending not to notice. Coldiron reached him and stopped. The two eyed each other as Dani continued her story. 

“During the war no wolf was more feared than Coldiron. That’s why it was so momentous when he and Wolfstriker agreed to a treaty.  The peace was supposed to be cemented in blood.”

My eyes were riveted on the standoff between troll and werewolf. But my ears were fixed on Dani’s story. She swallowed a few times before she told me the next part.

“Your mother, A’Lona, was supposed to marry Tristan Coldiron, Linus’ son.”

King Greatstone made a low growl. That got his son to back away.  Coldiron continued on the path towards the dais.

“But that didn’t happen because my mother married my father instead.”

I was beginning to get the picture finally. All these powerful people and my birth must have thrown them all into a panic. No wonder they all looked at me with such hostility.  I remembered Lady Wolfstriker and how she had acted towards me. So far she’d treated me not as a returned granddaughter but as some kind of diseased animal. The only one who didn’t have reason to hate me was Dani because she would just as soon be sunning herself on a beach in Santa Monica. She was comfortable in the human realm, maybe even wanted to be one.

“What happened after that?” I asked.

“In retaliation Severin Saint Morgan and Tristan Coldiron led an attack on Nightfall. It didn’t result in a new war but Tristan Coldiron was killed. Along with Severin Saint Morgan’s wife.”

I felt ice inside me. One simple sentence had torn the heart out of me. Severin’s wife had been killed? He was married once?  Was he here for me or for her? Had everything he told me been a lie? A lie to get back at House Wolfstriker? Revenge was a cold hard mistress.  I knew all about that considering for years I vowed to get it against my mother.

Linus Coldiron strode towards the dais and halted. Lord Wolfstriker rose. There were whispers throughout the room. R’Agan and N’Tasha returned to their seats to get a better view. I saw J’Tara subtly motion to her guards and a few of them crept closer to the king. My grandfather stood flanked by his queen who looked at Coldiron with even more hatred than she had shown me. Beside them were the wizard Simeon and Dashrael. Their faces were tense. But Lord Wolfstriker’s was the same as always. He might have been furious or indifferent beneath his ice cold exterior. Part of me even felt that he was glad to see his old enemy. The werewolf leader stopped before the king’s table and glanced up with laconic eyes.

“I hear you have the Saint Morgan boy,” said Coldiron in a voice like gravel.

“He is in our custody. He has violated the terms of the treaty and must face our justice,” Lord Wolfstriker replied.

Coldiron nodded and said, “Good.”

Next to me I heard N’tasha scoff, “Severin Saint Morgan, even the other wolves want him dead.”