Courting Trouble (Chapter 7) (Patreon)

     Index
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5  
Chapter 6 

Chapter 7

As it turned out, the dark elves preferred to hide in plain sight. The brownstone apartment complex; large, low slung and spread out far. It squatted on the corner, windows leering out at the street on either side. It looked unassuming enough, nothing too fancy and certainly not like an elven stronghold.

Glancing at Nemue’s note, I punched a button on the panel and waited. A moment later a voice crackled out of the speaker. “What?”

“I’m here to see Mr. Argidlawv?” I half asked, half stated, wondering if Nemue gave me the correct code.

A second passed before the voice came out again. “Nobody here by that name.”

I looked at the paper again and appended. “This is a court matter.”

Almost immediately the door buzzed open and I stepped inside.

I stood in the foyer, looking around. It was quiet, save for the ticking of a large clock at the far end, near the elevator. At the same time the doors on my immediate left and right opened and two large men squeezed through. I recognized their hulking forms as trolls, like that of Belkor. One was dressed in an enormous sweater vest, the other in a suit that had to be custom tailored. If I hadn’t seen Belkor, I would’ve probably assumed they were just enormous human beings but in them I recognized the slightly pointed ears and the underbite that marked them as one of his kind.

“Do you have an appointment?” the one in the sweater vest rumbled. He had long, shaggy hair and his eyes were a muddy brown.

Shaking my head I steeled myself. “No, but I’m here about Nemue.”

I saw the significant look between the two trolls and they nodded at one another. For a split second I thought they were going to descend upon me in violence but together they said, “Follow us.”

Rather than make their way for the elevator they slipped to the side and closed the door to the stairwell, the stairway going up, with an assortment of boxes slid under the first flight. I stood, squeezed between the two hulks and stared at the metal door in bewilderment. Behind me I heard a door open and I looked over my shoulder to see a pair of eyes staring out from the door crack.

I turned back to see the door had three sets of locks. The first was modern but the other two were older, that would look more in place on a wooden portcullis. The two trolls slid old fashioned, silver wrought keys into the matching locks and turned.

The door swung open and I saw the stairwell was gone. Instead, a spiraling stairway, much like that to the bazaar, went down into the foundation of the building. I felt a massive elbow push into my shoulder and I stumbled through the doorway, which was shut behind me. I heard the keys turn in their locks again and everything was quiet.

Looking around, I felt like I was in the same building, though I saw no windows. Due to the humid chill in the air I got the impression I was underground. Seeing no use in questioning it, I descended the stairway.

It didn’t take long. I went down maybe two stories before I was met with a large, dark wood door with gold knockers. I took one ring and clunked it several times.

A moment of pregnant silence followed before I seized the doorknob and turned it. I opened the door and a flood of red and gold light spilled over the narrow stairway. Ahead of me was a rather sizable room that appeared to be both a study and an office.

The decor was of dark woods, red fabrics, and leathers, creating a refined and sophisticated atmosphere. Bookshelves lined the walls, tables cluttered with both rolls of parchment and stacks of printer paper in the centre. Scattered texts lay open ranging from handwritten journals to novels laid down to mark the page. There were even modern newspapers dotted amongst the chaos.

In the center of the room sat a large, old fashioned office desk, kept suspiciously clean compared to the other tables. On it resided several fountain pens, a few sheets of blank paper and a glass over a coaster, empty. The vacant chair behind the desk was more like a throne than anything else, with a flared back, curling armrests and clawed feet.

The floor was hardwood, though a red rug consumed most of the  space. A large fire crackled in a hearth at the far end of the room, surrounded by high backed chairs.

A smooth, masculine voice drifted out by the dancing flames. “Take a seat.”

I jumped in surprise and I felt a gasp escape my lips. Damn it. At least I didn’t squeak.

Picking up the pieces of my dignity, I stepped purposefully toward the fire and sat in one of the chairs. Only then did I turn my gaze to the elf sitting opposite me. “Argidlawv, I presume?”

He looked old, quite old, and it made me wonder how ancient he was if he was elderly by elven standards. His white hair and beard were long, hair sweeping to his shoulders and his beard drifted down to his mid chest. His features were like Nemue’s, sharp, angular, though the beard seemed to soften him slightly. His eyes, though, were a warmer color, like that of dark chocolate, his pupil a darker spot in their middle. Those eyes were focused on me. “Indeed, I am. And you are Elena Felicia Nott.”

I instantly felt my guard go up. He knew who I was, which never sat well with me. “I am, how do you know me?”

He waved a long fingered, knotted hand, slowly. “Be at peace, I mean you no harm.” He smiled at me reassuringly. Despite attempting to hide my reaction he clearly caught it. “I knew of you for quite some time. I read the papers.”

I nodded slowly. It wasn’t like I was in the paper every day so either the elf was lying or he had a very sharp memory. “I’m here on behalf of Nemue.”

Argidlawv’s eyes slid shut and, for a moment, I saw a weariness flicker over his features. “Ah, yes.”

“She’s innocent.” He couldn’t miss my assertive tone. “I believe the vampires have framed her to start a coup. She came to me and-”

The elderly elf’s hand lifted and I stopped mid-sentence. “I’ve already considered the possibility. If the vampires attempted a coup they’d never have consolidated power. They’d constantly be at war with us and other factions within the city.” He took a long breath and exhaled it slowly. “And Nemue did not help herself by running. The evidence against her looks very bad.”

“But-“ I began and he fixed his eyes on me firmly. My protest died in my throat and I closed my mouth.

“The vampires may be attempting to thin our numbers. But now the Ljosalfar have made it impossible to ignore Nemue’s escape. It is my duty as head of the court to find her, to act on any information I have.” I saw his mustache twitch slightly. “So I must ask you if you know where she is.”

I looked at him, directly in those dark, intelligent eyes, and spoke firmly. “No.”

There was a tense moment as we stared at one another. “Are you sure?” he pressed, his tone soft.

My stomach fell through the floor and I swallowed a lump in my throat. It took me a second to reply. “Yes.”

He was silent for several long seconds before he turned his gaze from mine and rose. “Then I have no leads to work on and cannot make any attempt to find Nemue.”

I watched in silence as he made his way to the desk in the center of the room and busy himself with some papers. Despite his apparent age he moved with the same fluid movements that Nemue had. I heard the scribble of pen on paper and, after a moment more, I said,“I need to speak to the Ljosalfar too. Maybe I can convince them to focus their attention on the vampires.”

Argidlawv didn’t answer immediately, instead there was a thunk of metal hitting his desk. He turned, producing an envelope, sealed with red wax and marked with a complex, angular marking pushed into the wax, like one would expect from medieval times. “I doubt very much you will, but this will get you through to see the Ljosalfar courtiers.”

Blinking in slight surprise, I took the envelope from his fingers and furrowed my brows at it. “You knew I was going there next?”

I saw the elf’s mustache twitch again and his voice was colored with a slight smile. “I made an educated guess.” His attention shifted from me to the door. “I will bid you good day, Miss Elena Nott. I take it you know your way back out?”