Never date a siren, p.11
Never Date a Siren, page 11
“He helped a guy who wanted to skip town for the Oktoberfest up in Munich. But it worked for him. No one noticed that it wasn’t him.”
“A fetch be dangerous,” said the brùnaidh. The others avoided making eye contact with her as doing so was considered rude by the Kindly Ones.
However, they all knew the brownie was right.
After another hour of discussing possible solutions, the group kept returning to using the Doppelgänger to cover for Logan’s absence.
“Okay, line up a meeting, Granite,” Brigit said, who was tired of discussing it. “We need him for two weeks, don’t you think?”
Celia agreed that two weeks should do it. If not, they had a bigger problem. Granite interrupted the two fae women, “He takes only Bitcoin.”
“What’s that?” inquired Jib.
“It’s a money exchange humans use to disguise who is paying whom,” explained Brigit. She could see what the púca was about to suggest and she shook her head.
“No, Jib, you can’t just turn leaves into gold and use it to pay a Doppelgänger. Thank goodness Logan has money so we can make it work somehow. But first, let’s meet this Doppelgänger and find out what he can do, and for how much.”
She handed Celia the school schedule of Logan’s classes that the dryad had pulled from the fridge. Granite leaned over her shoulder to view it.
“For the first week, someone needs to be here to help him eat, get to the bathroom, and make sure he’s okay.”
The True Beast was offended when the schedule they were planning didn’t include it. “I’m fully capable of participating in this scheme.”
Brigit sighed, saying, “Be practical. It’s not like you can help him to the bathroom or make a hot toddy.” At her comment, Jib jumped down and started to scratch the corner of the sofa. The dryad reprimanded the púca sharply, “Stop sulking.”
However, no matter how the three naturals worked out the schedule, the brownie would need to cover most of the morning hours. Brigit felt guilty and uncertain about asking for her assistance.
“Lassie dinnae fatch yeself. Cooking, cleaning, and caring is in me blood.”
Celia and Granite remained silent and left handling the brownie to Brigit. The Kindly Ones were easily offended when directly asked for assistance.
“Perhaps, but this kind of stuff isn’t generally your province,” said the dryad cautiously. “I know I’m not supposed to be grateful and all that but…”
“The laddie does leave a nice blend of cream and whiskey. Besides, how would I answer to me own liege if I left one of me own without assistance? The Great Queen would be right angry if I didn’t lend a hand.”
It took a few days to get an appointment with the Doppelgänger. The fae tried explaining it all to Logan, and maybe it was because he was still feeling unwell, but the American didn’t understand how it was all to come together.
A being that could look like him? But wasn’t a shapeshifter? How would anyone be fooled?
He decided not to worry about it and spent his days resting. Everything that happened in the Perilous Realm seemed like a dream until the black cat would sit on his pillow and start talking.
Today, though he was alone. Brigit and the others had run off to meet the Doppelgänger, leaving Logan to rest. Having had enough of being in bed, he wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets and settled in a chair on his balcony.
He was sipping a hot toddy prepared by Mrs. Tiggy when the crows came flying by. One landed on his balcony railing and asked if he had any more sunflower seeds to share. Reaching over to open a storage bucket, the college student grabbed a scoopful and tossed them onto the ground. Seeing the sudden bounty, two more crows landed, hopping over to chat with him.
“Not dead yet, huh?” the largest of the trio asked him, and Logan gave a smirk, “No. Not yet.”
Since an incident in his childhood, Logan could speak with birds of the Corvid family. He had never met his grandmother’s raven Mara again, but he always kept treats handy just in case.
The original speaker turned his head sideways to give Logan a speculative look. “Zitha, you’ve lost the betting pool.” At the largest crow’s comment, Zitha tucked his head under a wing, ashamed.
Logan inquired, “Betting pool?”
“Of course,” said the leader of the crow’s family group. “We’ve laid bets on when you’ll keel over dead from the siren’s spell. No hard feelings, I hope.”
Logan had always considered the crows his friends, so it was a little unsettling that they didn’t express any sympathy over his future demise.
“It might not happen. Have you considered that?” Logan challenged the birds.
“It’ll happen,” replied Zitha, who had recovered his equilibrium enough to grab some seeds.
“He looks pretty good today,” croaked the smallest of the birds. She had given Logan the longest amount of days and was hoping to win big.
“Looks can be deceiving,” warned their leader.
“Did no one bet I would survive?” asked Logan plaintively. When the trio stopped laughing, their senior replied with a firm, “No.”
“Can I place a bet?” he said.
The crow hopped closer to Logan and cocked his head to give him another measuring stare. “You have to put something into the pot. Winner takes it all.”
“What’s the prizes so far?”
The other two, clearly younger and a bit more excitable, started hopping about in circles.
“Shiny coins! Pop-top lids! Gold chain! Aluminum foil!”
Logan fished in his pocket and brought out a shiny foil ball. It was a cat’s toy he had insisted Brigit buy for Jib. He was hoping to show it to the púca, but the being had left with the others.
“We want that.”
“Put it down.”
“Let us see it.”
Logan kept a hold of it, bringing it higher, so the red and silver foil caught the sun’s rays. Not only did it make a pleasing crinkle sound, but its shiny surface fascinated the birds.
“It’s yours if I can lay a bet,” Logan suggested.
When the crows quickly agreed, he tossed the ping-pong-sized ball over to them. The two youngest argued over who was going to hold it, but their leader wasn’t as easily distracted.
“What’s your bet?” he asked.
“That I won’t die.”
The crows stopped playing soccer with the foil ball and blinked rapidly at Logan in astonishment.
“He’s a bold one,” said the smallest.
The crows huddled to decide. When they seemed to done discussing the matter, Logan spoke up before they could fly away.
“Wait. I want a different prize if I win.”
“He doesn’t want the buttons?”
“- the gold chain?”
“- and pop-tops?”
“Those sound irresistible,” Logan said politely, “but I would rather win your service.”
The crows clacked their beaks, but the crinkly ball of fun was too tempting. The smallest and boldest, asked, “What service would you want - if you were to win? Which in all fairness, I must say is very unlikely.”
Thinking over Brigit’s comments about the fae and his experiences in the Perilous Realm, Logan outlined his proposal.
“If I survive this semester, the three of you will stop by daily. Just to chat and share your gossip with me until I end my enrollment at LOTTOS.”
The crows huddled again, cawing. It seemed they had agreed to Logan’s proposal as the two youngest flew away, still arguing over who got to carry the toy back to their treasure stash. Their leader stayed behind outlining the revision to the agreement.
“You ask nothing but a share in what we know. That is a reasonable enough thing to give, especially as you are a descendant of our patroness. However, it is not enough that you live. To claim victory, not only must you survive, but your heart must be free of the siren by the end of the term.”
With the deal sealed, he gave Logan a bob of farewell with his head before wheeling off into the sky after his fellows.
Double Trouble
The Doppelgänger sat at one of the study tables of the Leopold Otto central library. He found it amusing that whenever a fae desired his services, they requested a meeting at the library.
This library was part of the original monastery before it became a university in 1521. It was commonly believed that the wards within the building protected the students from magic. The fae being found this urban legend touching.
While the library’s protections were robust, they were not enough to impair his abilities. But he did like the vaulted ceilings in the library. Very lovely. So it was worth the visit today to meet up with three fae who had requested his skills in solving an attendance problem.
Taking the place in class for fae students was interesting in many ways: he got to study subjects he usually wouldn’t; was able to observe professors without their knowledge of his evaluations; and he learned a lot about what the fae student body was up to.
He watched the three fae approach. All were from the naturals Sept, and their magical elements were evident: the dryad was wood, the naiad was water, and the male eotan, stone. The spymaster had briefed himself before the meeting, so he was interested to see the faces behind the reports.
The dryad was short and wiry. She gave off an aura of cocky confidence. He had learned from his network of spies that while Brigit Cullen was canny, overall she was known as fair in her dealings. Though some thought she was perhaps a bit too rigid in adhering to the Laws of Civility.
He also knew that the dryad declined tangled commitments, which was unusual since more inexperienced freshmen stumbled in this area. For example, Cullen had spared the life of a low-ranking fae during a confrontation at the local beer hall last month. Most, would have simply killed the bog sprite.
That showed wisdom in one so young. The anomaly intrigued him.
The second woman was an attractive, brown-haired naiad with an open face. Her clothes were an eclectic mix, bohemian but with French sophistication.
Like her bondmate, Celia Rivers was also known to be a careful person. Although considerate and friendly on the surface, she kept her distance in relationships. Professional. As a junior, she should have known not to meet one of his kind for any reason so it was a puzzle why she was here.
The most physically dangerous of the trio was the eotan wrestler due to his exceptional strength. Eotans were a wide range of beings encompassing savage trolls, hill dwarves, and mountain giants, and those who were very human-like such as Granite.
Granite Hillside was showing off a new beer stein, made from the head of a malevolent tulpa and he could respect what it would take to obtain such a trophy.
After nodding a greeting, the trio took a line of chairs opposite him at the library table. Brigit and Celia sat, while Granite stood behind them, his hands clasped in front of him.
The dryad placed a violin case she had been carrying on the study desk. She crossed her hands on the tabletop and waited as Granite introduced them all. The Doppelgänger gave a polite nod. As was typical among the fae, he gave a common name they could use to address him.
“Well, Paul,” Brigit began, but she was interrupted by a black cat. The púca jumped onto the table and started to lick his back leg. The being had placed itself between Brigit and Paul, blocking their direct view.
With an aggrieved sigh, the dryad introduced it, “This is Jib.”
The cat continued to bathe while asking the Doppelgänger, “Haunt or Harbinger? You’re such rare, shy creatures I’ve never had the opportunity to ask.”
Paul gave a closed-mouthed smile, saying, “Neither.”
His response did not deter the chatty cat.
“Brigit, Celia, and Granite are all naturals. That’s why they work so well together as bondmates. I’m a púca Trickster, affinity fire. But you know that already don’t you?”
“Jib,” Brigit muttered warningly, but being a True Beast, there was no restraining it. The cat’s orange eyes madly flickered as it said, “Before doing deals, it’s best to know who you are dealing with.”
Paul gave the cat a nod and replied, “Since you feel so strongly about it, I’m a Mindbender.”
At his words, Brigit’s hand reached for the handle of the violin case, and she stood up. Her rising motion was copied by the naiad.
Paul raised his eyebrows.
“Does this bother you?”
Brigit was forthright.
“Of course it does. I mean, I knew your power would outrank us all, but this means you can convince us of anything. You could change our minds, without us even knowing. We couldn’t trust that our judgment is our own.”
He gently motioned with his hand for them to return to their seats.
“We are here to talk only. I have no bond which would influence me to hurt or persuade you. I swear this by the Laws of Civility. So let us discuss only possibilities before you are so quick to run away.”
The trio looked at each other, and the fae women reluctantly sat back down. Paul folded his hands together on the table and began again.
“That’s why my services are paid by human coin, not with favors,” Paul reassured them. “Why don’t you explain your request first?”
Brigit was still uncertain, so Granite began, “We three have an alliance.”
“Which includes a human,” clarified Celia.
“The human needs his classes attended, while he recovers from Fae Fever,” explained Jib. The cat was still working its tongue along its leg.
The Doppelgänger raised his eyebrows, surprised. He had never been approached by the fae to help a human. His mandate had limits. Paul said, apologetically, “I only sub for the fae, not humans.”
The trio exchanged glances again but did not move to leave. Brigit cleared her throat, her tone sharp.
“We wouldn’t be here if the university would do its job. Students come here and think they are safe. But how safe can it be when humans are in danger from the fae the university refuses to rein in?”
The perceived injustice seemed to be a favorite hobby-horse of the dryad. Her voice gained volume, “Nothing disgusts me more than those who enjoy the benefits of authority, but don’t take seriously the responsibility of their duties.”
There was a short, awkward silence before the púca added, in a relaxed purring voice, “The human is Beguiled by a siren student, name of Sibyl. Do you know her?”
Paul said nothing, but what the Trickster revealed interested him. He knew the siren had ensnared Franco Sabbatini, but not another human. After the dramatic loss of the polo team at their last match, Paul had been ordered by his liege to investigate the troublesome siren. Being love-Beguiled, Sabbatini had played a sloppy and disgraceful game.
The cat continued, his purr growing louder.
“It’s my understanding, and of course I’ve only been in Bewachterberg for a day, so perhaps I am wrong, but isn’t a fae threatening the life of a human student considered a violation of the Treaty?”
At Jib’s comment, the dryad appeared excited.
“The Treaty of Sigismund could be our solution.”
The Doppelgänger quickly dashed her hope.
“Not exactly,” said Paul, lacing his fingers and bringing them to his chin. He explained. “The Treaty is very clear that fae upon fae actions are under the jurisdiction of the royal fae kingdoms the beings owe allegiance to. Since it is the nature of the fae to play tricks upon humans, we are allowed some latitude.”
“You talk like a law student who puts theory above beings,” snapped Brigit.
“Law is one of my areas of study,” Paul admitted, giving another close-mouthed smile.
“But what if it involves a life?” interrupted Celia.
“At that point, the situation becomes problematic.”
Celia turned to Brigit, saying, “We should bring this up to the Rector.”
Granite leaned over between them and said, “That’s what I told Logan, but he doesn’t feel a human could do anything against one of our kind.”
Brigit drummed her fingers on the table, thinking. “As a law student, would you bring this to the Chancellor’s attention?”
The Mindbender suspended time while he thought over their problem.
LOTTOS was under the administrative guidance of a Rector and a Chancellor. The Rector was in charge of almost everything concerning the management of the student body and the administration of classes and professors. This position was traditionally held by a human, as it was now.
The second position was traditionally held by a fae from Bewachterberg’s royal line. The Chancellor was a ceremonial position for pomp and circumstance. He was trotted out for the dog-and-pony show of graduation, ribbon cuttings, fundraising, and to meet Bewachterberg royalty.
The spymaster worked directly for the Chancellor. His warrant was to keep an eye on the fae, to make sure bodies stayed buried, and those who needed to forget what they saw, did so.
It was true he had never assisted a human before. However, the Mindbender wasn’t personally against the idea. It might even be entertaining. Far more entertaining than sitting in a boring physics lecture about light cones and their relationship to absolute future and absolute past.
However, in helping a human, did he fulfill his mandate from his liege?
The spymaster’s primary purpose on the campus was to glean information about what the fae students were up to and pass it along to the Chancellor who would decide if further action was needed.
For example, a harmless desire by a student to skip class to waste time was trivial. Asking a Doppelgänger to take tests to complete a degree was another.
After re-starting time, he suggested the fae beings give him the details. Brigit pulled out a folded piece of paper from her pocket, sliding it over to him.
“This is Logan’s schedule. He needs these classes attended for at least two weeks until spring break.”
Paul glanced over the schedule. It was doable, and if he needed to, he would bend time to be at two places at once.
