About a thousand things seemed to cross her mind, face displaying all of them in the span of seconds. Anger. Fear. Rage. Guilt, sorrow, paranoia, accusations, and sheer panic. They stumbled over one another until her knees gave in and she crumpled. She hit the floor with a thud, continuing to stare up at Rod while everything began to liquify and pour down her cheeks in the shape of tears.
Echoes of my own pain rang through me, memories of grief taking shape as she started to struggle for breath. If it was anything like what I experienced, I realized, she had skipped through all the important steps of grief and went straight to revenge. She had never stopped, never thought about anything other than that anger.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she gave her head a sharp shake. “No,” she said firmly. “That can’t be true. It has to be a lie.”
Rod tilted his head. “Why? Because you want it to be?”
“Because it’s not true!” Layla shouted. “The Keepers can’t kill him, they need him to get to me! Just like they needed you to get to him!” she said, looking directly at me.
“Why would they need you?” Rod pressed. “What is this really about?”
“It’s none of your business what they want with me,” Layla snapped. “I–”
Her voice trailed off when Rod reached into his pocket and pulled out a strip of black foam. My ears twitched, still hearing her voice but extremely muted. Magic was pulsing through the room again, the smell of it as strong as the foam as I watched Layla continue to talk and angrily gesture without sound.
“Everything’s my business,” he responded after a moment, Layla only then realizing what happened. “Especially now that there’s proof associating me with you I didn’t have time to erase. You’ve involved me, and I need more information. Information keeps us moving. Information gives us the next target. Information keeps us alive.” He set the foam down on the counter behind and leaned back. “Now, I’m going to release the magic binding your voice to this foam. You’re going to tell me something – anything – about what’s really going on. Doesn’t have to be everything, although I’d appreciate it. But you are going to use your words for useful things, or I will keep turning this on until you do.” Reaching behind him, he rested a finger on the foam and the magic thinned, the scent dissipating from the room.
She stared at him. Fumed at him. Shot deadly looks at him. Hand rested on the hilt of her sword, she stared at him as she decided her next actions. I reached forward and swatted her hand with my nose. “Enough,” I huffed at her. “Need him. Trust him.” She just stared at me, angry and hurt. So I let out a short snort. “Trust me?”
The look in her eyes wasn’t a comforting one. To be honest, she didn’t have much reason to trust either one of us. The only reason I asked was because I had pulled her out of a few scrapes by now, and if it wasn’t enough for trust it might have been enough for a step.
Finally, she took a breath, hand sliding from the sword and resting on her hip.
“That’s a terrible trick,” she said to Rod. “Stealing my voice.”
“I didn’t steal,” he answered, wagging a finger at her. “I muted. And I’ll do it again.”
“My father was a…He came over when everyone else did,” she said, staring at the ground. “It wasn’t his first time here, he’d been to earth before to visit an uncle of mine. Everyone from his family knew about the portals, or so they told me. They were the ones…” she shook her head. Took a breath and looked up at Rod. “I’m sure you both know about the locks on the portals leading to home?” Rod and I nodded. “Did you also hear the rumors about a special half-blood who could remove those locks?”
I hesitated. Rod and I shared a glance. “Of course,” he said quickly. “Everyone heard those rumors.”
Layla nodded. “Those rumors were about my father. Or at least, a number of others believed it was him.” Reaching down slowly, she hesitated with her hand on the hilt of her sword again. Her look grew hard as she looked down at it. “They killed him for it. Over a rumor.” She looked back up at Rod, chin jutting out. Either she was proud or trying to project strength. “This sword was his. It wasn’t noticed at first, after his death, but I had it one night and took it outside in the moonlight.” She pulled it free with a flourish, glancing around to find a spot clear enough for a moonbeam, walking over and placing the blade under the sliver of light. The blade lit up with a far more tame glow, silver and blue radiating outward.
Now that I wasn’t being harassed from all sides, I got a better look at it; the construction looked Terran, but the materials looked…alien. Expertly crafted, wide near the base with a thinning, curving taper as it went. Impossibly thin, as if it should have broken the second any pressure was applied. Small indents and grooves created texture, almost giving the blade the appearance of bark and vines, as if the sword had been carved from a tree instead of forged from metal.
Layla pointed at the center, where a deep groove ran the length of the blade. Shining in the moonlight were a set of symbols in a very specific formation. There were two sets along the indent, running parallel to the blade. Each set was composed of three lines, with a base symbol at the bottom and top, while smaller symbols branched off to either side. I recognized it as the native scribblings of a race back home, those from a place they called ‘Ehl-vii-n’, but my ability to translate their writing was a little…rusty.
After giving us a moment to look at it, Layla moved the blade out of the moonlight. The glow disappeared, and the symbols along with it. She looked up at us both again.
“When I brought this to my family, they stumbled over their excuses and tried to take it away from me. Luckily that’s when I met Darius and he helped me liberate the sword, get away from them, and do a basic translation. According to him, the words identify why my father was killed and who I can go to for closure. He said he couldn’t make out the exact translation, and he’d need help, which is where we were going.” She shot a look at me but didn’t say anything more.
After a moment of silence, Rod walked up to her and motioned for her to put the sword back into the light. It lit up, the symbols reappearing. He glanced up at her. “This belonged to your father.” She nodded. He pointed at her ears. “You’re the same base species as he?” She nodded again. “Yet…you can’t read this?”
A blue-purple color spread across her cheeks and nose, cheeks puffing out in annoyance. “I was born here,” she snapped. “It’s not my fault they only taught me Terran!”
He nodded, looking down at the blade. “Did Darius tell you where, exactly, you were going to get it translated?”
She shook her head. “That’s why I need him back. So I can finish off those responsible for his death and finally put this to rest.”
