8: Scales Closed
"Put the blinders on and hammer down."
Victoria pulled the brake knob on her long hood semi and frowned, eyes staring at the temperature gauge showing it was freezing outside by way of a little snowflake on the bottom left of the screen. She didn’t need the gauge to know that when she could see the slush and ice on the road leading into the saw mill, and the white steam clouds coming from her exhaust stacks as the semi idled on the asphalt. The brunette woman sighed heavily, closing her eyes as she rested her elbows on the shaking steering wheel.
Why did I listen to Melissa?
‘Cause Cathy might be out there.
Victoria leaned back in her seat, shaking her head from side to side. This is so fuckin’ stupid! We’ve been drivin’ all day from Nalia to Portside and ain’t seen a glimpse of Stevie. She ain’t in Ventros anymore, Chessa. She’s gone back to the Fae Kingdom.
Okay, so maybe takin’ the truck was a bad idea, but you have to admit. We made money!
A quick look in the mirror told Victoria that the loader hadn’t yet noticed her sitting there, despite the callout she made when entering the mill. They were likely taking a smoke break, but another callout wouldn’t hurt. She reached for the microphone dangling from a wire strung across the narrow cabin and spoke into it. “Hey, Nathan, you out there or am I gonna have to load myself?”
“I didn’t hear you come in!” the loader replied. “How goes the search?”
Victoria rolled her pale eyes, because of course Chessa had to tell everyone they were looking for Cathy. The dragon had barreled her way to the front and took the wheel as it were. All so she could tell the world that they were looking for Cathy, again. Victoria had tried to stop Chessa the first time, but since it was Chessa’s body she couldn’t do a whole lot but go along for the ride.
“Spent all Death-blasted day out on the road for nothin’,” Victoria replied to Nathan, glancing out the windshield at the asphalt yard stacked high with lumber felled from the forests deep within Ventros. She knew Cathy didn’t go into the mill, but it was a contract that had many loads today and while she could use her car to search, Melissa needed it for a short time, so taking the truck was the best option. Even though the dragons could fly, Victoria didn’t want to fly.
There were far, far too many rules about where she could fly, how high, how fast, and it required being in contact with the flight control tower at all times with a damned headset that was fairly annoying to wear. It restricted hearing slightly and sometimes the controllers spoke way too fast about what was going on. Victoria didn’t know how Melissa could understand them half the time. Much less when it was someone who drank too much coffee and did a line of LCM before clocking in. She was thankful about the night races where they flew under the controller’s radar.
Flying that low in the daytime would cause the dragon’s aerial patrols to come after her, however. But at night? It was no matter.
“Last load for the day anyway. Maybe you’ll find Phantom tomorrow.”
“Hey!” another man’s voice piped in. “I saw Phantom’s truck stuck in traffic right there at the 405 interchange! Looked like a dude driving it with Phantom in the passenger seat.”
“A man driving Phantom’s truck?” Nathan replied. “That’s about as likely as a train flying!”
Victoria keyed her mic and spoke into it. “Actually, I’ve seen a train fly with help from a pixie…”
“What?!” Came the replies.
“Story time, y’all. Back about a hundred years ago, I was contracted by… person to help ‘em save a town. It’d be easy, they said. Take out the bridge, they said. That’ll stop the train for sure! If only Death-blasted train didn’t fly! The darned thing soared across the night sky toward the aetherial sea between the planets, steam trailing from its cylinders and flaming exhaust shooting through the stack, leaving a trail of glittering smoke behind. As we chased the train higher into the night, magic sparked ahead of the locomotive’s massive headlight, creating a sort of glittering speed cone as it let out an echoing mournful wail.”
She took a deep breath before speaking again, feeling a tickle build in her throat just before she let out a heavy cough, followed by another, and another. Victoria grabbed a handful of tissues from a cupholder and covered her mouth.
“Oh, come on! Trains don’t fly on glitter!” Nathan exclaimed, his voice echoing.
The other man replied, “No, no. I kinda believe it. Have you seen Phantom’s truck when she’s flying down the road like a ghost? Same shit. I bet her truck could fly, too!”
Once Victoria was done coughing, she keyed the microphone again and said, “So you said 405? Which way was she heading?”
“Toward the Hades Gate.”
A fourth voice finally added, “We only got a load heading to Tuesday’s out in Nalia. Take it or leave it, Vic.”
*** ***
A few hours later, Catherine patted Areannia the cat on the head as a traditional elven song played through the speakers. It was about the high elven occupation of the Wildlands back in the 160s and how the wood elves were not at all happy about it. The entire song was sung in traditional elvish. Or rather, the traditional elvish that originated in the Nassau Empire.
Catherine wanted to speak to Areannia about the load, because she had a feeling she knew what was in the trailer, and what Areannia had to think of Harold. But neither could communicate with each other because Areannia chose the cat form.
The humming of the transmission gears resonating up through the shifter, the faint whistle of the wind blowing through the antennas and mirror mounts. An occasional static burst from the radio marked the passing of time if one were to close their eyes. Ahead of the three lay open road slowly winding its way through the Sprawling Sea toward the customs wall to the wasteland beyond.
A dark wall which should be visible to the three thanks to it being nearly a hundred meters tall. Catherine knew there to be searchlights and anti-dragon weapons all along the structure, but they were too far away to see them. The landscape was mostly buildings which were starting to thin out the closer they came to the wall, but they still had to pass through the ‘small town’ of Nalia.
Nalia wasn’t anywhere near small. It was fairly large in fact and had its own skyscrapers stretching into the sky. All of this would be visible from the front window had Harold not been following close enough to another semi that it took up a large chunk of the view.
"Hey,” Harold began, “I've been meaning to ask, but what's this do?" He pointed at a small red button on the dashboard between the brake pressure and air pressure gauges. The button had a stylized label reading Don't Touch! Emergencies Only! written in elven script much like one you’d see in a cartoon.
"Fun things," Catherine replied. They were stuck in traffic heading toward the gate. By traffic, I mean they were stuck behind a slow moving and wobbly container trailer that looked like it was ready for the scrapyard. The container chassis’s wheels wobbled visibly like it’d had the containers dropped on it one too many times. It shook violently, even coming off the ground on one particularly hard bump that Harold hit. Catherine held onto Areannia so the cat didn’t hit the ceiling.
"Okay, but what does it do? I can’t read Elvish"
“Where are you from?” the changeling frowned deeply at him.
“Born in the Old Kingdom of Ironland out in the Wildlands.”
“And you don’t know elvish? I feel bad for you.”
“Blame the high elves. It’s what I do. Oh, come on… why are there so many cars today?” Harold looked in the mirror to see if it was clear, but almost every time he did, someone would pass them. Even now when he looked in the mirror once more he saw a pale grey, long nosed, truck quickly approaching. The other truck looked to be pulling a set of double flatbed trailers loaded with lumber. It had a chrome drop visor which blocked almost half of the view out the front window and the windows themselves appeared to be tinted solid black like a vampire drove it.
Which, of course, some did drive trucks with enchanted windows to block out all sunlight. This wasn’t a vampire’s truck, though.
Catherine's ears picked up the high pitched whistling of Stevie's turbos spooling even faster, meaning Stevie had applied the throttle more. They really couldn't go faster unless he decided to move out for a pass but the man was content to stay where he was at the painfully slow speed.
Stevie was stuck where she was. She wanted to tell Harold to drive faster, but Harold was a chicken. The human forced her to go slow, only allowing her to run ninety-five kilometers an hour while she wanted to run faster. She shouldn't be where she was in the far right lane, let alone stuck behind a pile of junk container truck with a lumber truck passing her! The scandal that would be should the other trucks hear of it! Stevie could not let that truck pass her!
Stevie crept closer and closer to the container truck in front of them while the speed crept toward a hundred. Stevie couldn’t pull out in front of that truck. Harold let off the throttle, which made Stevie's engine brake scream in anger as it slowed the truck back down.
Just in time for the lumber truck to be door to door with Stevie. It was, of course, a newer model made to resemble an older style truck as was fitting its driver. A fairly long hood stuck out in front of the cab with quad round headlights and polished chrome air cleaners with two large exhaust stacks polished nicely. Sitting directly behind the cab was a sleeper berth that looked barely wide enough to lay down in and not at all tall enough to stand up straight in.
The driver of the other semi held a microphone in her hand as she stared from behind a pair of wrap around sunglasses. Atop the woman's head was a neon green hardhat with a wide brim that obscured her hair.
"That can't be who we think it is alongside us, can it?" the woman's voice drowned out the music inside Stevie's cabin momentarily.
Catherine jolted upright and reached for the radio, thoughts turning away from the song and now firmly affixed on the radio. Her stomach shifted and a strange feeling built within, could be nerves, could be a lack of solid food all morning. She knew that her ears burned at the tip when the woman spoke.
She glanced around Harold in an attempt to get a better look at the other driver, to confirm who it was, but the distance between them meant the driver was just a neon green shirt and helmet. Catherine wasn't sure what to say, she glanced at Areannia for advice and got none except a firm nod.
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A jolt resonated up through the chassis as Stevie hit an uneven patch in the road. The impact made the overhead compartments rattle and drew Catherine's gaze up to them. Taking a deep breath, the changeling keyed up the microphone. "Why yes. It’s the one and only Phantom!"
"Eey, Phantom! Where ya been, girl?! You don't call us, text us, or even send a carrier pigeon! Some other girl locked ya in her dungeon?” When the other driver finished speaking, she covered mouth with her arm and coughed a few times.
Catherine frowned at the cough, but ignored it, knowing what was causing it. "Been busy learning some new tricks and making money. You know how it goes."
Areannia rolled her eyes and meowed, but Catherine didn't hear it.
With the slow container truck in front of Stevie, the double flatbed began to steadily pull away from them while the driver spoke, "How about ya show us a few of those new magic tricks, hun? You. Me. Hotel. Now."
Catherine gasped over the radio and received a maniacal cackle in reply. She didn't look at Areannia nor Harold, but she could feel both her ears and cheeks flush with heat. She wanted to say yes. Every fiber of her soul wanted her to key the microphone and say yes, but she couldn't. What would Areannia meow about? Or would she hiss? What would Harold say?
Catherine hummed over the microphone. “Well, that depends. Wh-what are we doing?"
"Food, drinks, card games, magic tricks, maybe a nice massage," came the reply from Victoria. “Ice cream?”
Those all sounded perfect to Catherine. She looked at Harold, but couldn't bear to look in his eyes. "F-follow her." The green haired changeling tried to speak calmly and quietly but her voice squeaked just a bit, which made Harold chuckle.
"I didn't know you could stutter," he replied as he checked the mirror for incoming traffic. Not seeing another vehicle, he used gentle movements to move into the lane to his left and downshifted the truck once he was there, letting Stevie's engine roar in excitement. Finally!
"Quiet, you." She hissed at Harold, glaring daggers at him, but that only made him smirk. "Keep it under 110. She only does 105, so you’ll catch her."
"Got it, boss lady," he replied and let Stevie run. Stevie flew by the line of ugly container trucks as she chased down the pale truck with all the excitement of a semi finally seeing open road. She even shifted before Harold did!
However, a man's voice broke the radio's silence before Catherine could transmit again. "Hey, can I join if you're going on a date?"
"We don't remember askin’ you a Deathdamned thing!" Victoria growled loudly, nearly snarling, voice echoing more than normal.
"Oh come on, lady. Don't be so surprised when you're broadcasting your date plans over open radio!" a second man spoke up with a laugh."I'd like a massage, too!"
“I’ll take one!” a third chimed in.
"Kick it down a gear, ya horny fucksss," Victoria hissed in a dragon-like manner.
"Look who's talking," the first man said.
"Ya know what? Phantom, my number hasn't changed,” Victoria said.
One of the three men spoke up. "Well, I don't have your number. How about you give it to me and I'll show you both a good time? I guarantee—"
Catherine quickly turned the radio off before he could finish speaking.
*** ***
“Call her!” Areannia meowed, tilting her head at Cathy.
Cathy shrugged and tossed her hands in the air. "What?”
Areannia meowed again. “I said, call her! You haven’t talked in a year!”
Cathy pointed to her pink phone. “You want me to call her?"
Areannia nodded.
"Yes," Harold muttered quietly and held his hand out toward Cathy. He received a glare from the changeling. "I'll call her for you if you can't get the courage to dial."
"It's not that I can't call my wife. It's this load. They want us out of the big city by tonight.”
“Why?”
“I dunno. They just do.”
“It’s been twenty minutes! How have you not called her yet?!” Harold exclaimed. The human let his eyes drift from the truck ahead, to the gauges, then to the lanes around them. Traffic flowed smoothly once they got past the line of container semis and he was able to cruise in the middle lane at the easy speed of 105 kilometers an hour.
Movement caught his eye as a white and black pickup flew past them in the fast lane. It had flashing light bars front and rear with antennas on the white camper shell and forward facing spotlights. The number forty was painted on the roof with the Ventros highway patrol logo on the door. People were moving quickly out of the way.
Areannia watched the black pickup carefully, even hopping on the dash to follow it and placed a paw against the windshield. “Rosco!” she meowed.
Stevie slowed down and everyone around them heard it through the engine brake. She looked over at the man next to her and said, "He's not paying attention to us."
"But he might be setting a trap!" Harold waved his hand ahead of them.
"He’s clearly busy! We'll be fine following Victoria." She found the number in her phone and waited as it rang a few times.
Harold frowned, but complied with Cathy's order and increased his speed once more to catch up with the flatbed. Behind them, a bright blue car moved out to pass another car and then slid in behind a semi in the middle lane.
"Holy shit! Ya actually called!" Came Victoria's bubbly voice, absent of any echo or effect from the radio. "Are ya sick? Did ya hit your head?! You never call me!"
"I’m not sick, I had two people holding a gun to my head until I called you," Cathy said quietly. She glanced toward Harold, out the window and then down at Areannia. Harold tilted his head at that and followed the other truck's lead when it merged back into the right lane.
Areannia just silently stared up at the copper skinned changeling, purring softly as she sat on Cathy’s lap. Finally! Now maybe she’ll leave the road for good.
"Two…? I only saw a dude, you and a black… wait. Oh, Dark Lady! That's right!" Victoria practically squealed to Catherine, her voice cracking ever so slightly. "I made a sweater for her cat form and need to see if it fits! She was supposed to come over tomorrow."
Catherine giggled at the reply and looked at Areannia. “She made you a sweater,” Catherine whispered softly.
Areannia rapidly shook her head from side to side. “Oh fuck that!” she hissed.
"But it's at home," Victoria grumbled, which made Catherine sigh at the thought of going back to their house. "You know it's been over two years since we last locked fingers together, and made the pearl clutchers recoil in horror at the sight of our indecent hand holding?"
Catherine shut her eyes, leaning her head against the cold window so she could focus all of her energy on listening to one of the few people she knew closer than a friend. A wide smile crossed her lips while the seat practically swallowed her whole.
"Holding hands sounds nice right about now," Catherine mumbled.
"Holdin’ hands and…?" Victoria repeated. Catherine knew a few options they could do; ice cream, movies, dinner, sitting in front of a fire or even going for a walk.
Catherine's smile turned into a smirk. "Holding hands and ice cream cones."
"Oh, ice cream sounds nice. With strawberries, right?! Or, no. What kind of ice cream?" Victoria's reply came quite a bit faster than before.
Catherine thought about this; What type did Victoria like? Was it vanilla? Chocolate? Something more? She couldn't remember. It had been almost two years since they last spoke and in truth, the changeling forgot what type of ice cream she liked. There was only the black ribbon and white lines on her mind.
Catherine’s smirk slowly turned into a deep frown. She tried to think. It was right there at the front of her mind, yet no manner of coaxing could get it to her tongue. The changeling tried to speak it, but each time she opened her mouth. She couldn't get much more than a letter out. Then something hit her mind and she came up with a combination she thought would work. "Sherbet and banana chips!"
"Ew." Victoria groaned. "That's… just no. Ya must've hit your head, honey. I’ll pick the ice cream this time."
Harold had been unusually quiet and seemed focused on driving. Areannia watched him shifting his eyes from the mirrors to the road ahead, then toward Cathy’s chest when the changeling wasn’t looking. Areannia hissed at him when he glanced her way.
"Fine. When and where do I meet you?" Catherine asked.
"When? Well, that depends on you. That load a priority or leisure?" Victoria's tone slowly lost its cheeriness and she seemed almost cold and business-like. Distant even.
Catherine turned away from Harold and covered her mouth from his view. Her voice was soft and low, but audible enough that Victoria could hear it. "It's for Nael," she whispered.
A loud slap of skin contacting skin echoed from the phone as Victoria facepalmed hard enough her semi swerved in its lane. Its back trailer whipped hard side to side, threatening to fly into the lane next to it. The erratic trailer sent nearby cars swerving away from the truck, but Victoria accelerated hard, dark smoke rolling from the exhaust stacks, and the trailer calmed down.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Victoria yelled, practically screaming it. Cathy pulled the phone away from her ear, which meant the others heard the shouting as the dragon continued, “We put that asshole behind us thirty years ago! Why?! Why did ya go back to him…?”
Catherine sighed heavily and shut her eyes once more. "It's different this time.”
“Different how?!” Victoria let out a full on growl, making her sound like a large animal, meaning it was actually Chessa speaking. “He. Tried. To. Kill. You. Or did you forget that?!”
Catherine glanced at the others and returned her attention to the window to her right. “They think I’m human and they don’t know my name!”
“Hogwash! You're telling me he don’t know his own daughter?”
“He does not know! He doesn't! He doesn't! He doesn't!” Catherine shouted back, repeating it fairly quickly.
Areannia’s ears folded back upon hearing that. She looked down at her paw while her mind went back to the diner where Areannia had said words quite similar to those about how things were different. She turned her paw over to look at the pad, no one noticing her and not paying any attention to anything else. She had thought things were different between her father and Catherine. They seemed different to her, Nael even mentioning that he had decided to look past their differences, but Areannia wasn’t so sure now that Catherine just admitted lying to him. Again.
“And if they find out?” Victoria asked.
“They won’t. Trust me.” Catherine nodded.
Chessa growled once more at the changeling. "Girl, if I gotta scrape ya off Rocklin’s arena floor because ya played gladiator with a dire bear, again, I'm gonna make sure you are a permanent piece in my hoard! Understand?"
"Yeah…" Catherine's voice came out as a quiet croak. Nothing more than a whisper. She went quiet, unsure of what to say next. Nothing came to mind that wasn't an apology she knew wasn't sincere. She wasn't apologizing for it, because she knew she had made the right call at the time. She inhaled slowly before exhaling quickly and spoke, "Look. How was I supposed to know he'd turn into a bear?"
"You fought a bear?!" Harold yelled loud enough that Victoria heard him and Areannia's ears folded flat once more.
Areannia decided to lay down and watch, curling up as small as she could get.
“Yes?” Catherine glanced at Areannia, then at Harold. “Why?”
“What’d you fight it with?”
“My bare hands.”
"You’d be dead if that were the case!"
This made Catherine frown. She could simply cast a sleep spell over him to keep him out of it, but that would make the truck crash. Instead she pointed a finger in his direction. "It was not an actual bear. It was an arch druid who transformed into a bear. Therefore it is a werebear."
Areannia covered her nose with a paw and clamped her eyes shut.
Victoria piped in, "Him being an arch druid or an actual bear doesn't change the fact that you nearly died. You could barely talk to dead people back then! If I were you I woulda just shot him in the face instead of dealin’ with the fancy ritual combat nonsense. Quick and easy."
Even though Harold couldn't hear the phone conversation, aside from Catherine's comments, he frowned at her. "It's still a big fucking bear! Why would you fight that?!"
"For honor! He insulted my intelligence."
Harold let out a groan.
Areannia knew the true reason, but she also knew that Catherine should shut the fuck up about the circle's inner workings before she revealed too much to outsiders. Areannia looked over at Harold, then up at Catherine and pawed at Catherine’s tank top, using her claws to tug on the fabric. This had the desired effect because Catherine tore her attention away from Harold to frown at Areannia.
Catherine held a finger out toward the cat. "Nia… let go of my shirt."
“Stop telling them everything!” Areannia meowed in reply but held tight.
Victoria didn't really hear Catherine's remark toward Areannia and kept talking. "Look, if you're workin’ for your father. Then I'm coming with you. I wanna be the first to shoot him if he tries anythin’ funny when y’all drop the trailer."
"I already have a full truck though?" Catherine's eyes narrowed to fine slits and she whispered. "Come on, let it go! This isn't funny or cute right now."
“I’m trying…” Areannia whined loudly, attempting to pull her paw away from Catherine, but one claw had hooked tightly to a few loose strands of fabric from the tattered and worn tank top. She twisted her paw around and pulled but it stayed stuck in the shirt.
"I'll bring my car and follow so no one fucks with the truck," Victoria said.
Stevie jolted with enough force that Catherine felt weightless momentarily before she landed in her seat again. Pain shot through her spine upon landing, causing her to groan loudly. Again, the overhead compartments rattled and one of the sun visors popped out of the clip keeping it in place.
Harold reached up to push the visor back into its clip while Catherine checked on Areannia, who had fallen onto the floor with a yelp of shock.
The black cat was slowly getting to her feet and meowing up at Catherine, holding her paw off the ground slightly.
Catherine patted her knees for Areannia, but the cat stared at her with an unamused look on her face. "It's dangerous out there now,” Catherine said to Victoria.
"That's what a gun is for!" Victoria proudly proclaimed. "I've got a new lever action to show ya one of these days, too.”
"You bought another one, eh?" Catherine's eyes twitched visibly at that. She looked at the opposing traffic as a truck pulling a prefabricated house drove by trailing the protective plastic behind it like a flag. "That's like… number fifty and you said you’d stop after the twentieth!"
Harold looked at the other semi and turned the CB radio on once again. He quickly grabbed the microphone to call out to the other driver about the issue, but Catherine ignored his words and focused on her own phone call.
Victoria whined, "It’s shiny though. Nickel plated with an ebony stock and numbered ten out of a thousand. Dual barreled and dual ammo tubes. Made by the best dwarven gunsmith of the Lonely Mine."
“Just how much did that cost?” Catherine’s stern tone made even Harold look at her.
“Half off!” Came the quick, but nervous reply. Behind Victoria’s voice was the steady off and on click of a blinker relay. “I had to repair it, so it was cheap.”
“Uh-huh. How about you show me the invoice?”
“The guy didn’t need it any more.”
"Catherine?" Harold talked over Victoria’s reply and waved at the road ahead of them. "Your wife is leaving the highway. Do I follow?"
She followed his wave to the flatbed ahead as it got closer and closer. The trailer's blinker flashed red while Catherine heard the click-clack of the relay over the phone. She turned her attention to the right side of the freeway, eyes scanning the land for any new developments or housing repairs but she only saw old buildings rising high which meant that either Victoria's destination was somewhere further in, or it was on the other side of the freeway. Although she did see a large parking lot out front of a home improvement store. They could likely fit Stevie on the side of the store if they wanted.
"Are you going to the Tuesday’s down there or somewhere else?" Catherine checked the time on the dashboard and ran the mental calculations for how long it may take them to go through the gate right now compared to later should they wait for Victoria. It would be an hour's difference usually but the reality was there'd be no telling.
"Tuesday’s."
“Alright, I'll meet you there. We can figure everything out later.”