Obsidian Gate - Chapter Eleven

*Well, everyone, here's Chapter Eleven. Any comments, etc. would be appreciated and I hope you all enjoy*

Chapter Eleven

A New Hope, New Friends, New Enemies, and the Same Ol' Song and Dance

- Earth -

The rest of the ride passed by in contemplative silence. Danthias was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice that his grip on the handle he was holding had lessened until the vehicle had come to a stop. The house that Sarah had brought them to was far on the outskirts of New York City, as far north as you could get in the suburbs toward Albany without actually leaving NYC behind completely. It was a quiet little street with nicely manicured lawns and the lawn of this residence was particularly nice, a lush, emerald green that spoke of meticulous care. The house itself was a small one story, painted a pale blue with trim in white and pale pink window boxes surrounded each window. Morning glories and moonflowers in white, pale pink, pale blue, and purple trailed down with long strings of ivy from each of the boxes. The door had been painted blue to match the outside and there was a small pewter plaque with a crescent moon on it and the words “Blessed Be” hung just above the copper door knocker.
Sarah readjusted the crimson colored duffel bag she had retrieved from the back of her car, then knocked three times, ignoring the loud barking of what sounded like a dog from within, and then opened the door when a small, cheery female voice called from inside,
“Come in!”
The home that Sarah lead Dan into was cozy and felt very friendly. The first room was an open, airy living room, with carpet that was well worn but well cared for, faded baby blue, and the walls painted a very becoming blue/gray. He could see a small, brick fireplace on the far left wall. On the mantle were pictures and knick knacks and an old, but obviously comfortable, bluish gray couch sat before the fireplace, with its back facing it. On the far right wall, Dan noticed a silver box shaped contraption with lots of other contraptions and wires hooked to it. There were also pictures, two plush blue/gray chairs that matched the couch, and a pretty oak coffee table that sat between them directly in front of the box. Swords, bows, shields, and other medieval memorabilia dotted the walls with the pictures and that utterly fascinated the elf.
Suddenly, a golden colored blur shot out of a doorway on the other side of the living room and tackled Dan. He looked down and found himself face to face with a rather friendly looking medium sized dog with large brown eyes and a shaggy coat of golden brown fur. When he consulted his new knowledge, he remembered that this breed was called a golden retriever. Danthias smiled and petted the dog, as it barked once, then proceeded to lick the elf’s face.
“Max!,” came a feminine cry from within the room the dog had exited, the same voice that had called to them at the door, “Don’t you bother them!”
“He is just making a new friend, Jen,” Sarah called, “Where is Linn?”
“She’s outside in the garden,” came the reply from within the small room, “Why don’t you go ahead and I’ll catch up with you in a bit? I’ve gotta finish this program. Feel free t’send Max back in here if he becomes a pest.”
“Will do,” Sarah said with a smile, then, to Dan, she said, “Come. Let us go before Maxwell decides to clean you off entirely.”
The elf merely laughed, pulled himself to his feet and ruffled the dog’s head affectionately, before following Sarah out of the room. Max made an affectionate noise and followed them, panting lightly and tongue lolling out happily. The kitchen that Dan and Sarah entered was immaculate and homey. Danthias caught a glimpse of ivory tiles with beige and pastel blue designs on them, white walls with ivy leaves stenciled on them in deep, forest green, a chandalier of oak and nicely done faux gold gilt, and a large, white topped, oak edged dining table, as they passed through to a set of glass doors, framed by gauzy white curtains. Sarah set down her bag and slid aside one of the glass panels, heading outside. Dan followed and, as soon as he had stepped outside, closing the door behind him, he was in Heaven.
The glass doors lead out onto a large, oak deck that presided over a spectacular view of the property. Dan passed by an oak patio set, a large, green umbrella jutting out from the octagonal patio table, and several steps onto an immaculate lawn that was so green, it nearly hurt the eyes. To Danthias, it was nothing short of miraculous. The lawn was sectioned off into gardens with paths leading between them, all lined with various colored stones of roughly the same size and shape. Dan could see more window boxes and a row of tulips beneath the windows.
The tulips had all been planted as a mirror and twin of the beds out front, a veritable rainbow, white to red to orange, then yellow, then blue, then violet, then deepest purple, and, finally, black in the shade. Ivy trailed down between the yellow and blue, flanked by morning glories and moonflowers in the same pastel shades as the flowers out front. Their scent carried along behind Dan, as he and Sarah approached the back part of the lawn. The elf could see daffodils, irises, lillies, orchids, daiseys, and sunflowers sprouting in the garden on the far left. Not all of them had peeked up yet but Danthias could tell what they were by the stems and leaves on them, even from a distance. They were planted roughly the same space apart but no two of the same were planted next to one another and there was no repeating pattern within the rows, giving the garden a fresh, wild feel.
The middle garden was a neat, orderly collage of tomatoes, peppers, corn, potatoes, carrots, parsnips, lettuce, cucumbers, and squash. There was even one small row of pumpkins, though Dan could see that they had a good long while before they would be big enough to bloom. The last of the gardens, the one on the far right, was nothing but herbs, a smell that immediately eased Dan’s soul. Rosemary, several different varieties of thyme, basil, parsley, sage, oregano, cilantro, lavender, catnip, gingsing, and several different kinds of mint all bloomed in a riotus, aromatic arc in the small patch of good earth.
All of this awakened Dan’s tired soul but what really caught his attention was the small area at the back of the property. A white picket fence held to the sides of the property, finally giving way several feet before the small area that had drawn Dan’s attention. The back part of the property was open, revealing a vast expanse of field, a small pond dotting the back of it, but before that, poised exactly at the center of where the yard proper ended and the field began, was a tree.
It was one of the largest oak trees Danthias had ever seen, rising easily one hundred and fifty feet straight up. The leaves were such a dark, healthy green that the elf could have sworn it had been transplanted from Solaris. There was a ring around the tree about two feet around, on either side, where the grass had been let grow wild. Interspersed throughout the slightly taller grass were wild violets, lavender, dandelions, and a single, wild, red rose. What caught Dan’s attention most, however, was the small circle of mushrooms just to the left of the base of the tree.
“A faerie ring, here!” Dan thought, “Ye gods, my luck must be turning.”
Dan took in the first real green place he’d seen since he’d arrived in this hellhole called Earth with all five of his senses. It wasn’t enough to completely ease his longing for home but it did help and he felt part of his anxiety just melt away. If Dan harbored any doubts about the kind of place this was, they soon faded. The elf had wandered over to the base of the immense oak tree, running his hands across it, as he glanced at the few sparse trees that dotted the field behind the oak, none of which were even half so high. He heard gentle feminine laughter and turned towards the sound. Then, Dan’s jaw dropped.
There was a young woman standing over by the herb garden, smiling. She was in her mid twenties with skin of pale ivory and eyes the most vivid emerald green that Dan had ever seen. The woman stood five feet and seven inches tall and looked utterly comfortable in this place and in her own skin. Her hair was a fiery halo of wild curls the color of newly shed blood that trailed all the way to her waist. It was caught back in a careless braid, most of the spiral curls near her face having already escaped the tie she had used to secure it, tumbling freely in the wind. She had high cheekbones, full lips, and the lush body of a female athlete, toned, muscled, long legged, lean, and with generous curves and an ample bosom. She was gorgeous in a very tomboy sort of way but that wasn’t what had caught Dan’s eye.
Whirling around her head in great streaks of color, blues, pinks, and greens, were fairies. Only the keenest of eyes would have seen them as anything but whisps of colored light but Danthias, with his sharp eyes, caught the tiny bodies, butterfly and dragonfly wings, and the high pitched, chattering voices of the pixies right away. They frolicked and capered around the woman like little, mischievous children and the woman seemed to accept them as a matter of course.
She approached Dan with a grin, setting down the herbs she had been cutting in a small basket at her feet. Then, she pulled off the dirty garden gloves she was wearing and set them in a small green tool chest next to the basket, depositing the small knife she had used to cut the herbs in there as well. The tool had a silver, crescent shaped blade and an ivory colored handle that looked as if it were actually made out of bone. The woman brushed a bit of dirt off the knees of her blue jeans, straightened the neck of her plain, faded green t-shirt, and padded over to where Danthias stood awestruck. She was barefoot and the sleeves of her shirt ended at her elbows, revealing very pale freckles, which seemed to be everywhere Danthias could see, except for her face. The woman set the basket and tool chest down and then stuck out her hand towards the elf.
“Well, hello there,” she said, “Ye must be the new arrival.”
“Yeah, hi, my name’s Danthias,” the elf replied, taking her hand.
The woman had a firm, strong handshake and her skin was soft but her hands felt calloused, as if they had seen a lot of work. Her nails, Dan noted, were also trimmed to a sensible length, girly but manageable. This one was definitely a no-nonsense type of woman.
“Name’s Linnelle Cassidy,” the woman said, releasing Dan’s hand, “Ye can call me Linn.”
“and I’m Dan,” the elf said, giving her an easy grin.
The woman’s thick accent, something Sarah would later tell him was an Irish brogue, was charming and Dan found himself more and more astounded by this odd world he had been thrust into.
“Why doan ye come on up t’the house n’ sit down?” she said, “I’ll be makin’ some tea.”
“As long as it’s not ginsing,” Dan said, “I’m allergic as all get out.”
Linn laughed.
“Nae, I think I’ll be makin’ ye some catnip tea, if that’s alright,” she said, teasingly.
Dan grinned all the harder.
“Sounds great.”
Linnelle lead the way back up to the porch, Sarah following them both, and gestured for them to sit at the table, while she went and got some hot water. The little fairies continued to caper around her and even followed her into the house, chattering all the while. They were still with her when she came back out a few moments later with a small tea pot full of hot water, several strainers, and some cups. She poured them the drinks, sat down at her end of the table and cocked her head to the side, studying Danthias intently for a moment.
“Al said ye were a cute one,” she finally commented, “Looks like she was right.”
“Thank you,” Dan replied, pausing only momentarily to pet Max, who had wandered up to him.
Noticing the ball in the dog’s mouth and the happy, expectant wag of his tail, Danthias resigned himself to a game of fetch and chucked the flourescent pink tennis ball the dog had offered in the general direction of the back of the lawn. Max bounded off happily after it, content yips heralding his movement the entire way.
“Now why doan ye tell me all about yer trip here,” Linn said kindly, smiling as the elf indulged the dog in his favorite game.
Danthias had no problems reciting his harrowing story. It took about an hour but the red haired woman listened intently, only occasionally asking questions when she did not understand a term that Dan had used. When he was done, she simply nodded, brushing her hair back behind her ears, as she did so. Then, suddenly, everything became crystal clear. Dan caught a glimpse of her ears and could not help but stare. They were slightly pointed and pierced all the way up, just as Dan’s were, and her eyes, now that he was looking at them more intently, had the slight tilt to them that happened in anyone with any kind of Elven blood. With all the fairies whirling around her, he was surprised he had not picked up on the hints of her heritage even more. The movement had also bared a little bit of her arm and, on her left bicep, he saw the tatoo. It was a pentacle surrounded by ivy leaves. That, combined with the knife she had used to cut the herbs for their tea, the bolline, left no doubt at all in Dan’s mind about Linn Cassidy. She was a witch. That much was certain. Whether or not she actually carried the blood of the daione sidhe, the nobility of the fae, within her as well was up for debate. She was not pure blood. The tips of her ears saw to that but he had seen too much other evidence to ignore it completely.
“Are you Fae?” he asked Linn suddenly.
The woman merely nodded a bit and smiled.
“I got a wee bit o’ the sidhe in me from me mum’s side,” she said, “She died when I was little so I dinnae know exactly what she was but me da’s family’s got a bit o’ the fae in ‘em too.”
“Seelie or Unseelie?” Dan inquired.
“A wee bit o’ both,” Linnelle answered, “Though how much an’ exactly what, I dinnae know.”
“I see,” Dan said, “Do you think you can send me home?”
“Aye, I’d stake me life on it,” Linn replied, “but it’ll take time. Why doan ye come in an’ meet me step-sister? She can explain some o’ what we have t’do better than I can an’ she’s been dyin’ t’meet ye. She’s shy but she’s also full o’ questions, that one.”
“Well, then, let’s go meet your sister,” Dan said, grinning.
The group stood up, tea in tow, and headed towards the house. Max, seeing that he was about to be left behind, dropped his ball and trotted happily after them. As they passed through the kitchen, Dan noticed a very nice set of well seasoned cast iron cookware hanging from a rack above the stove.
“Doesn’t using those hurt your hands?” Dan asked Linn.
Fae were notoriously allergic to iron, much like a lycan to their weaknesses. It struck Danthias as odd that Linnelle would have those in her kitchen.
“Aye, it hurts a wee bit,” Linn replied, answering his question soberly, “I use gloves so me hands dinnae burn. There’s no substitute fer ‘em, though; nothin’ else cooks the same.”
The little group made their way towards the room where Max had bounded out from. The dog trotted happily ahead of them, nosing the door open.
“Hey, Max,” the friendly feminine voice that had hailed them earlier called, “You get yourself in trouble already?”
Dan followed Sarah and Linnelle through the door to meet the owner of the voice and was not surprised to find that both the woman and the room in which she lived matched that small, high, cute, and breathless voice.
The woman herself turned out to be tiny, five feet one at most, and was built petite, fragile, delicate, and dainty. She had pale, golden blonde hair, which was mostly straight, except for a few little kinks at the end, brushing the middle of her back. The hair was pulled up in a lazy ponytail, two pieces, one on either side, falling out no matter how many times she tried to tame them. Her eyes were a heart stopping baby blue, only enhanced by her long, soft lashes and cute little wire-framed glasses. She had delicate, high cheekbones, pale skin that looked like it hadn’t seen the sun very much recently, and very pink pouty lips. She wore a pair of faded blue jeans, a comfortable checkered flannel shirt in blues, pinks, and purples, and comfortable looking white shoes that Dan noted were the ones called tennis shoes.
Her room matched her looks. The walls were a pink barely a shade darker than pastel with purple flowers stenciled over it. The ceiling was pink as well and the trim and carpet were both a darker shade of purple to create contrast. The bed was a plush, overstuffed luxury covered in a pink bedspread with a whole riot of purple and pink throw pillows. Above the bed hung a small, bright pink hammock, filled with tons of stuffed animals in various shades of purple and pink. All of the furniture was done in matching shades of purple and pink and Dan shook his head, feeling very out of place in this overly feminine room.
When the group first entered the room, the young woman was petting Max affectionately. Her head jerked up and, at first, Danthias thought the woman was young, no older than eighteen. Then he got a good look at her eyes and realized that he must have underestimated her age by at least three years. The innocence and naivety Dan saw in her face masked the incredible intelligence he sensed was there. It made him interested to see what this person was really like. The woman, for her part, gasped and stammered, as she saw Danthias, and blushed a little.
“Oh...hello there,” she said shyly, “You must be Danthias. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Please, dear lady, call me Dan,” the elf replied, kissing her hand gently, “and you are?”
“Jennifer Cassidy,” she replied, “Just call me Jenny.”
“Well met, Jenny,” Danthias said.
“Are-are you really an elf?” the young woman asked shyly.
“Yes,” Dan replied, amused, pushing his hair back from his ears, “I’m a moon elf.”
“Is that a particular sub-race of elf?” Jenny asked.
“Yes, somewhat like how humans are divided into Asian, Caucasian, and so on,” Dan said, hoping he was getting his terms right, “There are many different breeds of elf, though all of us share that common name; There are the gold elves, or sun elves, who are the most gifted magic users of our kind, the wood or sylvan elves who are our fiercest warriors, the drow, who are a subterrainean cousin of ours, the avariel who are winged, sea elves, desert elves, jungle elves, and glacier elves, each has their own skin tone, physical characteristics, and specialties but we are all Elven.”
“Okay,” Jenny said brightly, “I understand. I’d love to be able to take notes on all of this someday.”
“I think ye just made her day,” Linnelle said, smiling, “Jenny’s always had a fascination wi’ anything Fae or Elven. Ever since she saw the pixies following me around.”
“I’m surprised you can see them,” Dan commented, glancing at Jenny, “They must really like you. I’m glad I could help you, now please explain these strange machines to me.”
Jenny glanced where Dan indicated and stared out over the monitors, modems, keyboards, and various computer and scientific equipment that cluttered her desk. The immense, sturdy desk took up almost one whole wall of the room, stopping only at the doorway to Jenny’s walk-in closet.
“Oh, those’re my computers,” Jenny said, “I’ll be using them to help track down your portal.”
“I didn’t know you had mages on your world,” Dan commented to Sarah.
“Oh, Linn’s the handy one with the spells and the magic, not me,” Jenny commented, hastily, “I just do the computer, technical stuff and most of the research and development for our team. I don’t do combat or any of the fancy stuff.”
“I’m sure Linn’s magic is very powerful but she’s a witch, not a mage,” Dan said, “A witch’s power comes from Nature itself. A mage is a very different thing.”
“Oh, I don’t have any of her expertise in the occult,” Jenny protested.
“Nae but ye have us all beat, hands down, in brain power,” Linn replied.
Jenny blushed again, then glanced back at Dan.
“So, tell me about this world you come from,” she said, “You claim to know about Earth but the people of this planet haven’t managed to get further than our own galaxy. How’s that possible?”
Dan paused, putting his hand to his jaw in thought, then, when he had his story all figured out in his head, he spoke.
“Well, as near as I can tell, from the stories that’ve been preserved where I come from, all the races that exist on my planet once existed on your own, in one form or another, long ago before there were bards to record their existence. These races lived in harmony with the humans but were always outnumbered by them. They tried to compensate for this by teaching humans secrets about magic, nature, and other things that would tie them to the other races, force them to cooperate for the sake of learning. Then, the humans became too numerous and too aggressive. A new religion swept its way through the human lands, wiping out the old knowledge and planting deep seated hatred into the hearts of everyone, poisoning them against magic, against the other races.”
“Eventually, it got to the point where these races were on the verge of extinction and had nowhere else to go. The dragons, the oldest and wisest of these races, took pity on their fellow sentients and, appealing to their gods, used a powerful kind of magic unprecidented and unduplicated, and opened up portals to other planes of existence, other dimensions, other planets. All of the non-human races fled Earth in a mass exodus, traveling to other places that would be more hospitable, free of prejudice. They took with them sympathetic humans, even some of the very Church that had persecuted them, and left for another world. Some elected to stay behind and those who did retreated into the shadows, hiding from the humans ever after. Those who went through the portals eventually came to Solaris, my world, and settled it, mixing with the natives and populating it with all sorts of new species.”
“Makes sense,” Jenny said, “Humankind didn’t even know other races existed until just recently, within the last thirty years or so. The government’s still having trouble adjusting the laws to deal with us paranormals and normal people’re scared to death of us.”
“I’ve heard the term paranormal so many times since I’ve been here but I still really don’t know what it means,” Danthias admitted, “I mean, you all look human to me, except for Linn and Marissa but that’s because I know what to look for. What do you mean you’re paranormals?”
“Well, we’re mutants,” Jenny said, “Linn’s fae and Marissa’s half-dragon but the rest of us Sirens’re all mutants.”
When Dan looked at her confused, Jennifer smiled and explained.
“We’re a separate sub-species of human. We evolve from a normal, human embryo and can be born to two humans, two mutants, or a mixture of the two. We’re basically the same as humans but, somewhere along the way, during our development, a gene in our DNA mutates, giving us slightly higher resistance to colds and diseases. This resistance varies from person to person but that gene also grants us special “powers” if you will. No two mutants are exactly alike and no one can predict when a mutant’s powers will surface or what those powers will be, but sometime between adolescence and the age of twenty-one, a mutant will start to develop unique abilities that set them apart from the rest of humanity.”
“Like what?” Dan asked.
“Well, for example, Sarah’s psionic abilities. Those’re a direct manifestation of her mutated gene structure,” Jenny said, “We have mutants in our agency who can become intangible and walk through solid walls, who can change their shape to look like anything they want, and who can cause a fire with roughly the same temperature as the heart of the sun. It all just depends on what form the mutation takes. I’ve also seen mutants who have blue skin or multiple limbs. It’s truly different from one mutant to the next.”
“Can a child manifest these abilities?” Dan asked.
“Sometimes but that’s pretty rare,” Jenny said, “and usually, if they haven’t manifested their powers by their mid-twenties, they won’t manifest at all.”
“So what’s your mutation?” Danthias inquired.
“I’m really smart,” Jennifer replied quietly.
“That’s it?” Dan asked playfully, “I would’ve thought someone with your face would’ve gotten something a bit more impressive.”
Jenny laughed, blushed a bit, then smiled.
“Consider this,” Sarah piped up, “The average person uses between 3 and 5 percent of their brain. Jenny uses somewhere around seventy-five. The average I.Q. is around 100. Hers is somewhere around 250. It does not sound like much but you do not have to outfight your opponent if you can outthink them.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Dan said, grinning.
Jennifer, meanwhile, ducked her head modestly.
“I’m just glad to be able to help out,” she said.
“Help out, ye’re the most valuable researcher and information gatherer we have,” Linn said, laughing, “Without ye, we’d be lost.”
The blonde blushed again, then looked at Danthias shyly and asked, in a very hesitant voice,
“I know this’s really rude of me but.....how old are you?”
Dan laughed, the sound and movement of it lighting up his whole face, smoothing away the cares of the past few days. In that moment, Jennifer Cassidy knew what Alex must have seen in Danthias Silverbow when she first met him and blushed a little.
“I’m one hundred and twenty five years old,” Danthias said, sitting back in his chair, “Since elves don’t age the way you humes do, that’s your equivalent of twenty-five.”
“Is that what you call us, humes?” Jenny asked quietly.
Dan nodded.
“Are elves immortal?” Jenny asked suddenly, feeling acutely self-conscious.
“I wish!” Dan exclaimed, chuckling, “We’re born about a year after we’re conceived and then grow to maturity very slowly. It usually takes about fifty years for an Elven child to reach puberty and we’re considered adults when we reach one hundred. We can still die from wounds, shock, massive trauma, blood loss, even disease, though that’s rare. If nothing like that kills us, though, we just keep on living until we slowly stop aging and start losing the will to live. Then, we just simply choose to fade away, to go into seclusion and seek eternal rest in the land of Arvandor, the land of the dead, also called Valinor or the Undying Lands.”
“How long do most elves live?” Sarah inquired.
“Depending on sub-race, we can live anywhere from five hundred years to around one thousand, though most have gone into the West and sought the peace of the Undying Lands by then,” Dan said.
Jenny was about to say something else when Dan’s ears perked up, eyes going wide, as a very familiar sound reached his ears. Before he could even pipe up to warn the girls, the sound of breaking glass jarred everyone from the moment, and everyone whipped their head in the direction of the living room. Confusion reigned for a few moments, as Jenny, Linn, Sarah, and Dan made their way towards the sound of the disturbance, Jenny firmly keeping hold of Max, who had begun to bark furiously at the noise. There was also a slight sense of wrongness in the air. When Danthias looked over at the women for an explanation, Linn just smiled.
“Our visitors tripped the wards I’ve put around the house’s all,” she said gently, “Helps keep me from gettin’ too surprised by their like.” Then, the good mood was shattered, as the group stepped into the front of the house.
The front room was a mess. The front window was shattered, little tiny slivers of glass strewn across the blue carpet. A rather large stone lay in the middle of the room, the obvious culprit and, before the group could investigate any further, there was a loud yell from the front lawn.
“Come on out, freaks!” a young, male voice called, “We know you’re in there!”
Danthias stiffened, his entire body going tense with outrage at the intrusion on his friends’ home. Glaring, he reached for the haversack. Linn stayed his hand gently.
“Let’s see what they want first, before we decide t’get mean wi’’em,” she said.
Linnelle moved carefully towards the window to confront the intruders but before she could reach it, Sarah’s head snapped up suddenly and she gasped sharply. The telepath seized Linn’s wrist in a firm but gentle grip and, when Linn looked at her quizzickly, Sarah shook her head softly.
“Do not bother, my friend,” she said regretfully, “They have a sniffer with them. They will be deaf to your words.”
Linnelle cursed softly but enthusiastically in Gaelic, while Danthias looked at them both perplexed.
“What’s a sniffer?” he demanded.
“A mockery of our kind,” Sarah replied, “A sad and ruined form of humanity.”
When Dan merely raised an eyebrow, the telepath continued.
“Several years ago, when humanity first learned of our existence, the populace was frightened and began to panic. They felt threatened by the superior power and strength of the paranormal community and the police were ill equipped to deal with those few mutants and others who chose to terrorize humans simply because they could. The public demanded solutions to this problem and the government responded with a program to create super soldiers, elite fighters who would be human but better physically able to stand up to us. They took a group of willing volunteers, soldiers, patriots, and subjected them to a series of rigorous experiments, injected them with serums and drugs, radically altering their DNA.”
“Not all of them experienced the same results but one group displayed an exponential increase in their olfactory senses. Their neural pathways had been altered so that they would be able to track paranormals by scent and thus lead the police and those who wished to hunt them straight to them. The government regulated their people as best they could, kept very good tabs on them, but they never anticipated the consequences that tampering with these people would have. Radical, fundamentalist, anti-paranormal agencies within the government began brainwashing them and using them to track down anyone they deemed a threat. No one realized what was happening until it was too late. To make matters worse, ninety percent of those who have undergone this transformation slowly degenerate and, within three to five years, are almost completely insane.”
“Can they be reasoned with at all?” Dan asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” Sarah replied, “They are violently unstable and utterly convinced that mutants and all paranormals are a scourge to be wiped off the face of the planet. Talking will do little more than waste breath.”
“If they’re so unstable, what’re they doing with these guys?” Dan asked.
“I highly suspect the gentlemen waiting outside are from Advocates for Humanity. You have met their type before. They hate mutants and paranormals so much, they do not really care who they take orders from, so long as it means we suffer or die.”
Sighing, the telepath leaned down on one knee beside the crimson duffel bag she had brought in earlier and unzipped it. Glancing furtively behind her, she removed what looked to be a small, red wallet from her bag and stuffed it into her back pocket, then retrieved what appeared to be a sleek, silver firearm, checking the ammunition and cocking back the hammer with practiced ease, before setting the weapon down beside her.
“I had hoped I would not need that today,” she said sadly, as she reached back into the bag and produced what looked to be a crimson vest of some kind. It was form fitting, sleek, and thick, covering all of Sarah’s major body parts. Smiling, she glanced over at Dan, as she fastened it into place.
“Protection,” she explained, “I do not heal from bullet wounds as easily as you do.”
Then, lastly, she withdrew from the bag a weapon of some magnificence. Reverently she held it, as though it were precious to her. Danthias could see that it was a sword, a katana, in a crimson sheath with what he now knew were Chinese symbols done on it in black. There was also a dragon with claws extended curled at the end of the sheath, drawn in a highly stylized manner that reminded him of Xaixunian artwork back home. The sheath was attached to a crimson silk sash, which Sarah expertly tied to her waist.
“If I need this,” she said, quietly, “Then we are in quite a lot of trouble, indeed.”
“Nice piece of weaponry,” Dan commented.
“Thank you. Her name is Callisto. My father made her for me long ago. If you are going to fight with us then I suggest you avoid using guns and avoid killing blows,” Sarah said, “If you are caught using firearms without a permit like the one I have in my pocket, you will be sent to jail and killing people makes police nervous. Defend yourself but try not to leave bodies.”
Dan nodded, solemnly, and Linn’s face took on a decidedly determined look.
“Follow me,” she said, “I’d like ye t’watch my back while I get ready t’meet our guests.”
Danthias traipsed along behind the redhead, as she walked through the living room and the kitchen towards a doorway near the back of the house. The door opened and Dan stepped behind Linn into the paradise that was her room. Deep green carpets and vibrant yellow walls painted with a stunning array of green and gold ivy and tree branches reaching for the pale green ceiling surrounded the elf. He saw many windows, streaming with light, and delicate tree designs painted across the ceiling. With the few potted plants that covered the room, it was like being in a forest and the elf smiled, as Linn threw open the door to her walk in closet and rummaged her way around to an old safe. Drawing a key from her pocket, she opened the steel safe and retrieved two blue vests similar to the one Sarah had put on, a small wallet with a similar documentation in it to the one the telepath was carrying, and a small, sleek, black gun.
Stuffing the permit in her back pocket, Linn strapped on her gun and snapped up her vest, before hurrying back into the living room, Danthias right on her heels. Not a peep had been heard from outside and it was beginning to make everyone nervous. Quickly, Linn handed the second blue vest to Jennifer.
“You know what t’do, Jen,” she said quietly.
“Right,” Jenny said, strapping on the vest.
The blonde reached up and gently retrieved a large, medieval style silver shield with gold Celtic knotwork on it from the wall and headed towards her room.
“C’mon, Max,” she called, “You know the drill.”
While Danthias watched in puzzlement, the dog obeidiantly followed his misstress directly into her bedroom. Curious, the elf wandered over that way to find Jennifer coaxing Max underneath her bed, then, she turned towards her window and lifted up a small glass bowl from the windowsill. Upon closer inspection, Danthias could see a small, green painter turtle scuttling around inside the bowl.
“Alright, Samwise,” Jenny said gently, “Time to put you somewhere a bit safer.”
The elf watched as Jennifer opened up a door her closet and set the turtle down gently on one of the shelves. Then, the blonde crouched down, leaving the door to the closet open, and pulled the shield up before her, giving her an effective wall to hide behind.
“What are you doing?” Dan asked, confused.
“I’m not a shooter,” Jenny explained, “I’m no good around combat situations and I don’t know much more than basic self defense. I’m a walking target with a ransom note pinned on it at best and a hostage or casualty waiting to happen at worst. It’s better for me to get where I’ll be safe so those who can fight can do what they have to do without worrying about me getting in the way. As for Sam, I didn’t want to leave him in the window, in case they break in and there are no windows here so I don’t have to worry about glass.”
“Makes sense,” Danthias replied, reaching into his haversack and removing a long, slender rod, “You just keep your head down and holler if you need us.”
“Will do,” Jenny said.
“Oh, and remind me to teach you a few tricks when this’s all over,” Dan said, “I want you to be able to defend yourself if your friends aren’t around.”
Throwing Jenny an easy smile, the elf ducked back into the living room. He reached into his haversack, blessing the magical enchantment that gave the bag nearly endless storage capacity. Dan's hands disappeared up to his elbows but he came out holding a rod and a belt with several sheathed swords and daggers strapped to it. Pressing the button on the rod in his hand that would extend and curve it to become his bow, Dan retrieved one more sword from his bag and set it across his back, as he strapped on his belt. Reaching once more into his bag, the elf plucked his string and his arrow quiver from his haversack and strapped them on, getting his arrows in position and his bow ready to fire. It was truly a thing of beauty, ivory and mithril with golden Elven scrollwork down the sides of it with pictures of animals and forests all around and the silvery string to set it shining. In the very front was a small depression and into that, Danthias set a small diamond, grinning as he secured the pouch that contained his other bow gems to his side. He was now officially armed to the teeth.
“Let’s do this,” he said, drawing and readying an arrow.
The women all nodded, each in their turn, and Linn headed for the door, motioning for Dan and the others to follow her. The elf reached up and gave one last tug to make certain his bow was stringed properly, then pushed his hair proudly out of the way of his ears and exited the house behind Linn, arrow ready and his ears, nose, and eyes ever alert for danger, Sarah bringing up the rear. The group spilled out onto the front lawn and Danthias could not help but stare at the small force that waited them there. It was a motley crew to be sure but there were roughly twenty of them and they looked armed to the teeth.
“What about the police?” Dan asked Linn quietly, “Will anyone bother to call them?”
“Knowin’ Jen, she’s already taken care o’ that,” Linn replied, “Let’s just get through this an’ see what they want.”
Turning to the invading crowd, Linnelle scowled darkly.
“Unless ye’re with the police, boyos, I’d say ye’re trespassin’ on private property.”
The leader of the group, a man dressed in camouflage from head to toe and wearing combat boots like a reject from an army supply store jumped down from the small jeep that he was driving and stepped over towards Linn. Even his walk, buzzed haircut, and the gun at his side screamed “army reject” or at least “wannabe.” It was impossible to tell his hair or eye color thanks to his hat, haircut, and the big, black sunglasses he wore, but it was obvious he was scowling when he finally deemed to address Linnelle.
“Shut yer piehole, Red,” he snapped, “Ye’ll talk when we say.”
Looking back over his shoulder, he glanced at another man, this one hunched in on himself, rocking back and forth, as if in the thralls of madness. He was whimpering slightly, like a wounded animal, and his dark eyes were wide, bloodshot, and frightened. His hair was a nondescript brown color, though what its original shade might have been was impossible to tell because it looked as if it had been dyed so many times that the original color was now hopelessly lost. It was also shaggy, unkempt, and long, forever dangling into the young man’s eyes, and appeared as if he had not bothered to wash it in the last two weeks or so. His dark colored clothes were ragged, somewhat dirty, and poor, the kind of thing bought at a second hand store at the last minute because other clothing had fallen apart, and very ill kept, like he rarely bothered to wash or fold them. Even his tennis shoes were in very sad condition, the original white long lost under layers of dust, dirt, and mud, and the laces hanging all askew, only tied by the loosest definition of the word.
The young man who appeared to be leading this little expedition leaned down and spoke to the scared one loud enough that he obviously didn’t care if everyone overheard.
“Well...” he said impatiently.
“None o’ them are human,” the huddled figure said softly, “None of them.”
A cruel smile split cammo boy’s face, showing poorly cared for teeth, and he turned back towards Linnelle, who was shaking with quiet rage by now, and surveyed her group with a calm eye.
“Well, well, lookee here, boys an’ girls, we caught ourselves a whole parcel full o’ muties,” he said, grinning even more widely, “Hansen’s done it again.”
“Who’re ye callin’ a mutie, ye shaved ape!” Linn called, scowling, her brogue thickening in her anger, “I should shoot ye just fer that!”
“Pipe down, faerie princess,” the man replied, scoffing, “We’re here mostly fer the animal. Ye keep quiet, you an’ yer little mutie friends might live t’see another day.”
“Well, you found me,” Dan said calmly, pulling out his ray bans and throwing them on to protect his eyes from the sun’s glare, as he lifted his bow and sighted along the arrow, “What’re you going to do about it?”
“Dan!” Sarah gasped, softly, reaching out to touch Dan’s arm. The elf jerked away before she could even make contact.
“No,” he said firmly, “This man’s threatening and insulting my friends. If he thinks he’s man enough to deal with me, then let him step away from his cronies and we’ll settle this.”
“Three against twelve, lycan,” the man pointed out, “Your odds don’t look so good.”
“I’ve had worse,” Dan said, pulling back on his bowstring calmly.
“Get them,” the man in cammo screamed and instantly, young men and women in endless variations of clothing and appearance rushed out from the three jeeps that were parked near Linn’s house. All of them had weapons, most of which were guns.
Danthias, meanwhile, had already detached himself and gone to the place he did whenever he did a lot of shooting. His vision narrowed down to the tension in his arms and back, the feel of the arrow shaft against his cheek, the point of his arrow, and the target that was waiting at the end of it. Without conscious thought, the archer released his grip and felt the satisfying twang as the bowstring snapped back, music to Dan’s ears, and his first arrow flew true towards its target.
Black and silver shot through the air with a lyrical scream and struck its intended home with the force of two hundred pounds of pull. The cammo man screamed and dropped, as the arrow slammed through his calf, and he writhed in agony, as he tried to dislodge it. Dan grunted in satisfaction and moved on to his next target, another arrow already prepared. For the elf, time seemed to have slowed down to a crawl. There was no sense of urgency, no worry, no need to try notching more than one arrow at a time. These opponents were slow, clumsy, ill organized, and poorly armed compared to even the sloppiest orc patrol Danthias had ever encountered. They posed little threat to the elf, really weren’t even worth wasting the arrows, but they needed to be taught a lesson. These fools needed to see what happened when you messed with Danthias Silverbow and his friends.
Another arrow flew, straight and direct, blasting through the hand of another thug, who had raised it to shoot at Linnelle. The man screamed, dropping his weapon from his now useless hand, and the redhead used the moment to deliver a particularly nasty kick to the man’s face. Danthias winced, as he heard fragile nose bones breaking, and watched the man go down like a limp sack of potatoes. Not missing a beat, Linn was already rounding on her next opponent, a young woman with so much metal in her face, Dan wondered how one could even tell what she looked like under all the hardware. Linn simply put her hands up in a classic boxing stance and delivered a particularly vicious punch to the woman’s face, right where her fragile cheek bones were the weakest. The woman yelped, surprised, and responded with a clumsy punch barely deserving of the name. The redhead laughed in the woman’s face and Danthias was not surprised when the fae woman dodged merrily out of the way and responded with a half hearted kick to the woman’s backside that nearly sent her tumbling.
Dan, seeing that Linn was alright, glanced over towards where he had last seen Sarah. The telepath appeared poised, calm, and had dropped into a kung fu stance that Dan actually recognized from one of his rare travels to the Eastern part of his world. Other than the fact that she had quite a few opponents, it looked like she would be pulling through the encounter alright.
“So far, so good,” Danthias thought, knowing his luck too well to even begin to hope that it would last.
Taking what time was available to him while he could, the elf readied another arrow, aiming square at the shoulder of another opponent. This one had a gun aimed at Sarah, who was hurriedly trying to get herself to a position where she would have the advantage over the four people who had gathered around her. Danthias didn’t hesitate. In one smooth motion, the bow went up, the arrow was notched, the arrow was loosed with a satisfying twang, and the arrow struck the exact spot that Dan had aimed for. Instantly, the man gripped his shoulder where the arrow had struck, dropping his weapon in the process. He tried to make his arm respond to his commands, to pick the gun back up, but the nerves that sent signals down his arm had been properly neutralized, severed cleanly by the arrow. Until the broadhead was removed and the nerve reattached, he would be harming no one with that arm.
The young lycan smiled and was moving on to his next target when an all too familiar stabbing pain went through his left arm. Glancing down, Danthias noticed a thin line of blood trickling down from a thin, inch long gash where a bullet had grazed him. The elf immediately could sense that the wound was not healing as it should and snarled, cursed, in frustration.
“Godsdamned silver bullets!” he muttered, “Do these half-wits on this world use nothing else?!”
The elf spun around, following what he believed to be the bullet’s trajectory, and faced the man who had shot him, glaring. His face momentarily went up in a startled, surprised expression, then returned to its normal, grim state, as he quickly prepared to take aim. Cammo man was back and he looked pretty pissed. Blood was seeping profusely from the man’s wounded calf where Dan’s arrow had been dislodged and the angry man was hobbling furiously, somehow managing to stay upright by sheer force of hatred alone. His gun was aimed dead center at Dan’s body.
Danthias saw him raise the gun a bit to the left and moved swiftly, growling harshly, as another bullet barely missed him. Dancing deftly to the side of the deranged looking racist, the elf let loose a shot of his own, scoring a direct hit to the man’s primary shooting hand. He screamed and dropped his gun, cursing at the lycan in the most foul language the elf had ever heard outside of a Solarian sailor. Danthias let loose of his bow and curled up his fist, launching a furious punch at the man’s face. Cammo man dodged, grinning and gave Dan one of the most vicious kicks he had ever received, right to the knee. The lycan gasped and cursed, as he limped back a few steps, reaching towards his boots for the rather large and scary knives he kept there.
Before the elf could complete the move, however, the Cammo man smiled and reached into one of his pockets with his left hand, removing a small pile of dust of some kind. Lifting his palm level with his chin, the man blew hard onto the dust and watched it fly straight into Dan’s face. Danthias choked, sputtered, coughed, then blinked in surprise, almost sneezing as the dust invaded his nostrils, his mouth, and his throat. Then, before the confused look he felt coming on had even had time to make its way from thought to his face, the elf’s senses began to burn and his nose, throat, and mouth were in agony. Danthias’s eyes watered and his vision blurred, as he felt his tongue swelling and his nostrils flaming. His throat felt like it was on fire and the young elf cried out in pain.
“Powdered silver!” Dan thought, “Sonova-”
Danthias got no farther than that thought. Cammo man, grinning like a madman, rushed the lycan, crowing triumphantly. He beat Dan with the butt of his pistol which, with Dan’s rotten luck, turned out to be pure silver, and the weapon left stinging, blistering welts wherever it touched the lycan’s sensitive skin. Danthias dodged and scrambled out of the way as best he could, narrowly avoiding bullets, but the man just kept on coming. When he couldn’t beat Dan anymore, he kicked him, vicious shots to the ribs and kidneys, and when that didn’t work, he settled for throwing things at the struggling elf, who eventually sank to his knees in anguish. He screamed wordlessly, trying to get up and get away from his opponent long enough to recover but it was just too much. Danthias collapsed face first onto the deep green grass and listened as the man beat him and called him the most horrible names imaginable. Slowly, somewhere in the midst of all the pain, the elf simply passed out and the world was, once again, nothingness.