10: Something Lost

“We both realized our mistakes in the end.”

Once the unloading was done, Victoria walked over to her semi-truck where a red faced Cat sat on the step staring off into the distance. The changeling was there, but the lights weren’t on.

"Are ya alright?" Victoria drawled, looking from Cat and then to Stevie and back to Cat once more. Victoria was unsure if it was anger or embarrassment on her wife’s face. Cat's purple eyes seemed like she was lost in thought even though she was looking directly at Victoria.

Cat’s mouth moved to speak, but only a croak came out, which made Victoria frown and look over at the door where the employee went through. Cat motioned toward the store, opening her mouth, but she stopped and leaned against the truck. She folded her arms across her chest. "He wanted to know if I was delivering Christmas trees or not. I told him no. He said I could stay here if I wanted to."

Victoria faced Cat and mimicked the gesture. “The look on your face said otherwise, hun." Victoria threw a thumb at the door behind her. "We'll only need a couple seconds tops. Then we can go get some ice cream."

Cat slowly shook her head. "Please, I handled it. Told him I fucked Berry and he got mad.”

“Well, if he can't handle the truth, then he’d faint if we went over there.”

“Hey, what's the inside look like?"

"Door's open and the key's in it. I’m ready—”

Victoria turned away from Cat, motioning for her to wait while she rubbed at an itch in her throat. The grey truck darkened and looked more like a shadow than an actual truck, while the sky changed colors from grey clouds to orange smoke. Victoria focused on one thing, Cat, and the shadows receded ever so slightly. Victoria took a deep breath, attempting to speak once more, but the tickle kept itching away.

She grabbed a handkerchief from her pocket before she could erupt in a coughing fit and clamped her eyes shut, body shaking once again and showing just why she didn’t want the Fit Bill to go through. She renewed her flying license only two decades ago, now she’ll have to pay off another doctor too soon. Luckily, it was just a dry cough this time and not something worse.

She’s hiding something! Chesathas said in her mind.

It's probably related to her patron! Victoria hissed internally to the voice between the coughs. Porington is fickle.

Then stop stalling and go on your fuckin’ date!

Oh for the love of Death… Don’t be so impatient!

Fine!

Victoria waited for the sky to return to its usual grey hue and the semi’s color to come back once the coughing spree died down. "Sorry. The cough’s become worse since you vanished,” Victoria said. “And Chessa ain’t happy we’re just sittin’ around.”

“Tell her I said to calm down,” Cat said, nodding at Victoria. “We don't need you two arrested for assault.”

“She can hear you,” Victoria muttered.

Cat turned toward the door and grabbed the handle. "Your long nose got a name?"

“Yours!" Victoria grinned.

“Why’d you name your truck after me?”

“Because she’s pretty, like you.”

“Thanks.” Cat climbed up into the cab and flopped in the worn seat. The collapsed suspension of the seat didn't move at all, leaving her sitting almost on the floor. “Kind of a low ride don't you think?”

“Not for me.” Victoria felt a giggle rising in her throat and didn't stop it. She gripped the handle and smiled up at Cat, waiting for her to get in the back so she could lock her inside the cab.

Catherine looked down at her. "But you’re shorter than I am! This has to be a bumpy ride, eh?"

“Know the roads and ya won't have a problem.”

Catherine aired the seat up to where she normally sat, looked over the dash and then let all the air out again. "This is so dumb, Vic. You can't even see out the window!”

“I see just fine.” Victoria shrugged.

“How?! I’m taller than you and I can barely see!”

“Skill issue I’d say. You’ve been drivin’ Stevie so long ya forgot how to drive a long hood. Gotta look the part when you’re passin’ people and they can’t see your face.”

Cat returned her attention to the dashboard and waved across the array of gauges filling every single hole the manufacturer made for the Mackenzie, and then some.

“Why don't you just have…” her voice trailed off as she noticed an old black and white photo next to a newer full color one. One was of Vic and another woman Cat didn’t know the name of, but judging by slitted eyes she was likely another dragon. What was important, however, was the black and white photograph.

It was of Victoria and Cat huddled close together in a hug at a fairground’s dirt oval pit area. A time when Nia actually raced her car once a year. Cat wore a small dress with a buzz cut, showing off her dark green hair, while Victoria wore a fairly fancy dress that looked like it was pulled from the Old World. They both had smiles on their faces, but Cat’s eyes looked distant and Victoria’s were hidden behind giant round sunglasses.

Cat gently plucked the picture out of its spot and looked at the back where Cat examined the handwriting and realized it was supposed to be hers dated from 159.

"I don't remember you taking this," Cat whispered.

"You took it actually." Victoria said quietly from outside the truck.

Cat gently tucked the picture back into its place and rubbed her eyes. She took a deep breath and nodded. "I look dead."

"Well, hun, that was taken before ya left the grove and you’re much better now. As are we." Victoria slowly got up on the first step while looking up at Cat.

“Why do you keep it? I look hideous, you look like you're hiding something, and we’re both suspicious.”

“To remember how far we’ve come.” Victoria tilted her head at Cat. “No matter where we go, no matter how long it’s been since I last saw you, no matter what we are, I will always love you. You helped us that day and for that we are ever grateful.”

Cat sighed softly, closing her eyes for a few seconds. “I can see why you guys keep it. How about we take a comparison photo to put next to this one? Same clothes.”

Victoria reached out to grab the changeling’s hand, but stopped just short and pulled it back. “Sure. May I?”

“Huh?” Cat looked down at Victoria and tilted her head. “May you what?”

“Hold your hand so I could give it a kiss and pull you into a hug?” Victoria waved her hand around a bit to draw Cat’s attention. “Like old times.”

Cat stared down at Victoria, purple eyes blinking over and over. A smile slowly drifted across the changeling’s face that made Victoria’s heart flutter. Cat’s hand flexed visibly as if to invite Victoria to climb up. “Vic… The answer is always yes. I missed you two.”

Victoria tested Cat’s reaction by gently touching her palm before she took hold of Cat’s hand when there was no reaction. No cry of shock or a look of her purple eyes glazing over with a vision.

With Cat's help, the dragoness hauled herself into the cab and sat on the changeling's lap. Cat let out a grunt as she wrapped her arms around Victoria’s waist and smiled. “No angry humans to chase us this time,” Catherine said, letting out a soft giggle.

“Nope, but now that I have you pinned, I am going to ask you a few questions.” They were close enough that their breasts pressed against each other, so Victoria leaned back against the steering wheel and stared into the changeling’s eyes. “First, why?”

Cat frowned at the question. Victoria could see the changeling wanting to look away, as her eyes darted to one side for a moment as she opened her mouth. Cat’s cheeks puffed up. She nodded firmly and looked Victoria in the eye once again.

“I needed the money… He’s paying me twenty thousand dollars for this load, Vic…” Cat waited to see if Victoria or Chessa would speak up, but the two were quiet, so she continued, “Stevie’s frame is rusting away. I tried to have a mage in Amarillo apply a protection spell, but it just didn't work. I don’t know why…”

“Hun, you drive through the Plains of Eternal Flame to get here. That protection spell don’t do shit against Fire Lung. Nothin’ does. We hate to say it, but Stevie is dyin’ just like we are. We know how much you love her, too.”

“So you’re saying… I can save her myself?” Cat let go of Victoria and held up her left wrist. Using her right hand, she gently squeezed the skin around one of the snowflakes and plucked a fairly large drop of frozen magic from her arm, leaving a snowflake silhouette behind. “That Berry’s magic will save Stevie?”

“No, we’re sayin’ it’ll hold her death off for a time.” Victoria’s eyes went to the frozen magic held between Cat’s fingers. She wanted to grab it and swallow the drop, knowing that it would at least give her another few decades at the most. But for a changeling? There is no telling what frozen magic from the great lake that was the Infinite Beyond would do to a mortal’s body.

Victoria sighed heavily and closed her eyes for a moment. “Cat… I missed you so much, and we love ya, but look. We gotta tell you that we’re kinda seein’ someone again. Her human name’s Melissa. She’s the daughter of Rathdari the Ancient and Olympia the Swift. We kinda… met ‘cause she found out I killed Rathdari back before the turn of the century.”

“And you two didn’t tear each other apart…?”

Victoria giggled to herself. “We tried! Many times in fact, but it turns out…” she slowly raised her hands in a shrug, shaking her head from side to side. “Olympia never told her the truth; Rathdari had gazed into the realm beyond the stars and went insane, and was attacking any caravan making its way through the Plains of Eternal Flame.”

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Cat put the magic back into her arm and rubbed her forehead. “And I thought Bridgeport was crazy.”

The brunette dragoness snapped her fingers. “And now our next question; Which Catherine are you? Are you mine, or are you an imposter?”

“Vic…? What kind of a question is that?!” Cat blinked a few times, leaning back against the seat.

“We’ve heard the way you talk in your sleep before you disappeared. Be honest, darlin’. Are you my Catherine, or are you another from a different world? Because my Catherine would never go back to her father. She’d blow her brains out before that happened. And neither would she question my request for holding her hand. I want to know who you are, imposter.”

“I am your Catherine. Just… I think?” Cat rubbed the side of her head with a small frown, running her hand through her hair. “Hold on, when did we meet?”

“At a faire in ‘59, why?”

“Not at a bar in Bridgeport?”

“No.”

“And you know I’m an android, right?”

Victoria’s eyes narrowed to fine slits as she tilted her head like a bird. “When did the transfer take place?”

“During the war? We were in the Bay of Bridgeport and a torpedo struck the deck I was on. I woke up in an android’s body roughly two months later. They had cloned my consciousness with magic, because my body was too far gone to save and they realized an android with a changeling’s shapeshifting abilities would make an excellent spy. They built weapons into my arms, too.”

“My Cat’s not an android, no.”

“Oh fuck… This is the wrong timeline.”

Victoria cocked her head a bit. “Hm?”

“No, no, no… She said this was the right one!” Cat glanced around the small cab, eyes wide and mouth working to open and close as she tried to come up with another reply.

“Calm down.” Victoria gently placed a hand to Cat’s cheek and stared into her eyes. “What year is it?

“One-eighty-one.”

“One-ninety-five,” Victoria corrected.

“Fuck. It’s even the wrong year! We have to deliver the cargo or Nia’s dead!” Cat yelled loudly. “I saw a vision…”

“There is a near twenty car pileup at Hades’ Gate. No cargo is leaving Ventros until that’s cleared. Come with me to the yard and we’ll sort out this timeline nonsense. There’s a man I know at a bar that can help.”

Cat nodded a few times and took a deep breath. “Okay…”

*** ***

Harold sat inside Stevie. He slowly looked over the dashboard again when his gaze fell upon the runes inscribed in the center of it. Catherine's phone rang loudly once again. Areannia reached to mute it this time.

"So… Can you translate these?" Harold pointed at the runes, having grown bored of waiting for Catherine to get back from the date. She had left quite some time ago and it was getting late. The broker wouldn’t stop calling.

Areannia pointed to the glowing rune. "You know that one is a muffle spell, but it's not at all effective when the windows are down."

Harold nodded. "Right, but my truck had a switch for it, not a fancy glowing symbol. I didn't have to ask to use it either."

"I know, I changed my whole fleet to the switches when it became clear most people can't use magic anymore. My sister is weird and hangs on to the past, let's leave it at that." Areannia moved on to the next one and said it out loud in her native tongue at first, before switching to common. "Lightning wave, this one sends a pulse of lightning from the frame of the truck in all directions. It’s intended to disrupt the electronic devices of nearby vehicles."

"And this?" Harold pointed at the third rune.

"Invisibility. It makes the entire truck and trailer invisible for up to four hours. Useful if you want to hide in the open for a quick nap out in the wasteland. Or… if you feel like messing with Cathy." She smirked at Harold, gently tapping the rune, and nodding.

"I see… and the smaller one here?" He pointed at the rune, memorizing the appearance and glow as Areannia spoke each word.

"Communications. I… don't see why she needs this one. We already have the CB and phones. I think she added it."

Harold looked at Areannia, then the rune and spoke quietly, "Want to find out?"

"Not really. It’s dormant for a reason." Areannia mumbled and looked out the passenger window at the street beyond the trees.

"You don't want to know?" Harold pointed at the communication one.

"You humans are all the same; Too curious for your own good," Areannia grumbled and looked at the man, shaking her head.

"You're not curious about it?! Why is it still here if it's not needed?" Harold shrugged.

"Fine!” Areannia hissed. She placed her hand over the rune and closed her eyes, allowing her magic to connect with the intricacies of the spell. She saw it was a chaotic mess of wires, tires, brakes and even the fuel system of the truck. It would take her some time to navigate to the center, but she heard a giggle in the distance and followed it. She felt free to fly, free to run and she did. She ran for as long as she could along the wires, following it until she was out of breath.

There in front of her stood the spell's weave looking like a butterfly with a missing tip. Each spike connected the next and required just a little input from her to reconnect the missing one. Areannia reached out, tapping the only softly lit spike and received a blaze of fire washing over her.

Areannia gasped, opening her eyes. Sheleaned away from the dash as she clutched the hand. It throbbed and tingled but now the rune glowed bright. "What the hell, Cathy?!" she yelled.

"What?"

"The design of that spell is terrible! It's connected to everything on this fucking truck! No wonder It has issues!”

"What did it do?" Harold looked at Areannia.

She shook her hand a few times and frowned. "It's beyond me because I didn't create it. I tried to follow it to its source but it kicked me back when I touched it.”

“So it's broken?”

“It’s broken."

"Well that sucks," was as far as Harold got before another voice broke the silence.

"Oh but you're wrong, Silly Nia! It works flawlessly!" A shrill, chipper voice filled the air while a ball of light rocketed out of the dashboard, trailing faint embers of flame and diesel smoke.

The light swirled around above the shelf between the two stunned mortals and compressed to a tiny point. The point exploded outward after a moment, the embers washing over the interior, causing the paint to return to the gauges, the crack in the speedometer becoming smaller while the leather looked brighter once more.

In the ball's place stood a small creature not much shorter than Areannia's hand. The tiny elf-like creature glowed brightly from within while a shimmering forest green dress covered her body. Black work boots covered her feet, tattoos resembling Catherine’s were visible across her body. The creature’s eyes glowed brightly making them look completely solid. The tiny woman's giant head of hair stretched down past her lower back and a pair of translucent green butterfly-like wings sprouted from her back.

"Fuck!" Areannia groaned as she stared at the tiny elf. She shook her head, holding a hand to her forehead. "Fuck! Mother fucker!"

"What?" Harold asked, eyes wide at the tiny woman. He blinked over, and over, and over at her in an attempt to comprehend just what she was. The small woman's silver hair moved ever so softly while the red streaks breathed embers into the air around her. "Who is this person?" Harold asked quizzically.

"A mother fucking pixie!" Areannia shouted. She huffed, shaking her head from side to side.

The small woman twirled a hand in front of her, creating a cowboy hat made entirely of smoke, and bowed to the two. She giggled at their reactions, and threw the hat in the air. It dissipated as quickly as it was created, leaving behind the faint aroma of burnt diesel mixing with LCM. "Not just any old pixie! Lilly assures you she is quite special! She has been watching and listening to you both for a long time now."

"What is a pixie? Some kind of spirit?" Harold asked as he leaned toward the small creature in an attempt to get a better look at her. She smiled at the human and struck a pose as if she were showing off her dress to him.

“Yes!” the pixie replied and nodded. She threw her arms wide and said, “Lilly is the spirit of the—”

"No! No! No! Back in the dash, back in the dash!" Areannia shooed the pixie toward the rune like a degenerate elf. "Don't engage with it, Har-ah! Don't say your name!"

The pixie shook her head at Areannia and folded her arms across her chest, remaining firmly where she stood. "You dare shoo Lilly away like she is some plebeian?!"

“Get back in the dash!” Areannia hissed.

Lilly hovered up to Areannia's face and glared. "I am the great Lady Lilly! The one and only ruler of this semi! The Queen of the Semi! Now, I want you both to get out! Out! Out! Out!"

The pixie spun around, leaving a trail of flames and smoke, holding her hand above her head, fingers together and ready to snap. Her eyes glowing as bright as fog lights.

Areannia gasped, eyes widening as she leaned away. Her hand fumbled for the door passenger door handle, the elf not wanting to be in such close proximity to a fae creature. "Wait! Keep calm! Please…?" She hoped to possibly diffuse the situation before it became worse.

"Calm? Calm?! You disturbed Lilly from her nap and the human drives like shite! Only one of you is smart enough to not speak. Now tell Lilly where Cathy Catherine is or else!"

"She left!" Areannia yelled. She moved closer to the passenger door while keeping her eyes on the pixie. The pixie glared, following the movements. "Went on a date with her partner,” Areannia added.

"To where?! Tell me or I'll turn you both into seat covers!"

"I don't know where!" Areannia yelled. She quickly opened the door part way. "I already told you everything I know, you little shit!"

"Little shite? Little shite?! I'll show you little shite!" The pixie snapped her fingers with a cackle. Energy burst forth from her hand, washing over the interior of the truck once again. Areannia and Harold were hit squarely and sent flying out of the truck.

Half-expecting the blast, Areannia used her magic to take on the form of a black and white house cat once more. She landed on the ground, rolling and sliding a few feet. She glared at the truck, hissing loudly. “Oh no you fucking don’t!”

Stevie's doors slammed shut on their own and Areannia heard them lock just before the air starter kicked in with a loud squeal. The truck belched out a cloud of dark smoke and roared loudly, drowning out Harold’s shout.

Stevie growled, lurching forward like a scared deer. Areannia picked up her pace trying to keep up with the truck However, the pixie managed to shift it into the next gear and the one after that as smoothly as if she’d been driving for decades. Stevie accelerated to a speed far faster than Areannia could hope to reach, turning toward the parking lot’s exit.

Areannia came to a stop at the sidewalk and dropped her spell, returning to her elf form fairly quickly while the semi drove into the distance, its unmuffled engine allowing it to be heard for some time.

Harold growled at her, wobbling as he held one of his shoulders. "Why would you piss off a spirit like that?!"

"Because pixies are assholes," she said quietly, turning to face the man. "But she shouldn't have been able to drive!" Areannia held her hand out for Harold. “Let me see your shoulder.”

"Unless that was Stevie…? She called herself ‘Queen of the Truck’."

"Damnit, Cathy!" Areannia yelled to the air.

“What?”

“I should have known when the fucking thing resisted a spell yesterday morning.” She reached into her pocket for her cellphone to dial Catherine and turned away from Harold, placing the phone to her ear. It rang multiple times until it went to voicemail. She tried a second and third time, but the phone only ever went to voicemail.

"Could you please bring the truck back?" Areannia muttered through her teeth. "I’ll apologize if you do."

Harold groaned quietly and held his shoulder. "What do we do now?" He asked. "Do we call the cops?"

"And tell them what? A forest spirit stole our truck?! No!”

"What do you mean no?!" Harold asked, a grimace crossing his face. “She stole the truck and trailer!”

“I’m not dealing with the Arcane Investigators!”

She spoke softly in her own language, her eyes glowing bright while magic flowed out from her fingertips. She held her hand over his shoulder and focused on directing energy to the source of impact. She saw the fall he took, felt his pain and felt a crack deep within his shoulder blade.

Areannia narrowed her eyes. She pulled some of the injury’s pain back into own shoulder, while at the same time kickstarting the healing process with her magic by guiding the cells where to go. She wasn’t a dedicated healer like the ones at hospitals, but she was competent enough for quick repairs in the field.

Harold relaxed visibly. "What is that in common? Sounded nice," he asked quietly.

"A healing spell.” Areannia grabbed her own shoulder and gently massaged the ache she now carried. She rotated her arm a few times and stretched it until the ache became dull and distant. “You should be alright if you take it easy for a week. Come, let us sit by a tree and meditate." Areannia motioned for him to follow.

Harold followed after her and sat in the cold, snow-covered grass.

*** ***

After what felt like an hour to Harold, but it was only a few minutes according to Areannia, Harold felt his pockets for his phone. There was no phone, no wallet, no food, no drink. He groaned loudly.

"That pixie has my wallet!"

"You’ll be fine," Areannia grumbled to him. She leaned back until she was laying on the snow and stared up at the tree. Much like Cathy, she could see the tree was sick and needed more room to grow. Its leaves were small and unhealthy, but it couldn’t grow anymore.

Harold looked over at her, frowning as the sun began setting over the horizon, casting long shadows across the parking lot. "So, now can you tell me exactly what it is we're hauling?"

"Nope." Areannia twirled her finger around in front of her face, creating a small trail of blue-green flames, which dimmed when she stopped her movements.

"What do you mean no?! We've got the broker calling us saying we should be moving, apparently a tight deadline we’re ignoring, and now a godsdamned pixie steals the truck! Why can't I know what we're hauling?!"

"Because I don't know what we're hauling. That is how we operate; As long as the cash is there, we do not care. All I know is that it’s office supplies."

"Bullshit! You're telling me office supplies are important enough that we can't call the police about a stolen truck?! My bones are burning and telling me that is a boldfaced lie!"

"If you want Cathy, you and I to end up buried in the forest then go right ahead and call them. All I know is that this load is important enough to travel with a fake manifest and in an unmarked trailer. Our escort is meeting us at the customs gate."

"Does Catherine know what the load is?" Harold sat up and tried to stretch his arm, but stopped when he felt pain starting to stab at it. "That fucking hurts."

"As I said, go easy on the shoulder for today at least. And again, the trailer was sealed and the instructions are clear; do not open under any circumstances, do not call the police, call the owner instead."

Harold frowned at her. “Shouldn't we call Cathy? It’s her semi.”

“Yes.” Areannia pulled her phone from her pocket once more and dialed Victoria’s number. She waited until it went to voicemail before leaving a message. “Call me back now! We’ve hit a snag.”

Harold waited for her to hang up before speaking again. “What about the broker?”

“Fuck no! I’m not calling my father! That’s a surefire way to end up buried. We’ll wait for Rosco or Cathy to get back.” Areannia frowned at Harold, but then looked up at the tree once more. A dead leaf slowly floated down toward her from one of the branches. She reached out to catch it and inspected the veins and how it nearly crumbled in her hand. A perfect leaf for a potion. She sat up, holding another hand out and waited to see if the tree gave up another.

"Great! I've climbed into a truck with a tree hugging serial killer!" Harold threw his hands in the air and immediately regretted it as pain shot through his shoulder, causing him to cry out once again. "Ah fuck!"

"I’m a rumrunner, actually, but close enough, I suppose. By accepting Cathy's terms of employment you have bound yourself to a world that was unbeknownst to you. A world which will now follow you to your grave."

"What do you mean?" He frowned at her, giving the elf a glare.

"You work for Cathy, and by extension, our father. In doing so, you will be paid well, but only if you follow the rules. Fail to follow them and you will disappear." Areannia moved her hand to the side to catch the next leaf that fell, followed by a third. After collecting two more leaves, she looked around the trunk for a piece of dead bark, and found some on the ground where kids carved their names into it. She nodded to the tree, whispering softly, "Thank you."

Harold rubbed his shoulder to ease the ache. "So, don't tell anyone about this. Got it.”

Areannia tossed the leaves and a handful of snow-covered grass into a small mortar she carved from volcanic rock at one point. The blonde elf added in a half stick of honey for sweetener. She took a seat under the tree and leaned against the trunk. With the mortar in her lap, she grabbed an amber gemstone from her belt pouch along with her knife, using that to scrape a few shavings into the mix.

"What are you doing?" Harold let out a groan and rubbed at his shoulder.

"Your mewling is worse than my newborn’s,” she replied quietly as she began to crush everything together. “I'm making you a healing potion.”

"Healing potions are made from tree leaves and grass?" Harold blinked in confusion upon seeing her concoction.

"Mine are. Now, please, be quiet and let me concentrate or the effects will be far weaker." Areannia closed her eyes, letting her mind open to the tree. As she did so, she felt the tree roots trying to find the best place they could beneath the asphalt. Most were balled up and twisted in unnatural ways, breaking the ground apart, but a few had dug deep. She felt the wind gently rocking her back and forth, the last grasp for clouded sunlight from the leaves before they lost it until morning.

Harold looked out over the parking lot once again and sighed softly to himself.