Chapter Thirteen #2
It fell, finally, to Pax. He dragged a folding chair over and set it next to Josie and leaned on the back of it.
“The Light is the force that protects the universe’s magic,” he said slowly.
Josie tried to pay attention to the meaning of the freaking universe and not the distraction of whether a childhood nightmare roamed the halls.
Literally.
“Okay,” she said. “What is the Dark, then?”
They did one of those stare-at-each-other things while Josie waited with an impressive amount of patience.
This time Maddy was the one to answer. “Dark is the force in opposition to Light. Dark is the end of magic.”
“Is this theology or more physics?” Josie knew the answer, though. If it were theology, everything would have been simpler, and they could have stuck with good and bad.
“It is Universal Law.” Pax’s shoulders raised. “Physics is explicable. Universal Law just…is.”
That was super helpful.
“Listen,” said Naliti, “the Light is there to show us the truth about the universe. Truth hurts. It’s messy, ugly, and hard, but without it, we can’t thrive or grow straight or be healthy.
If you are on the side of the Dark, you want to block out the Light.
You want to twist and obscure the truth so you can manipulate circumstances to your own benefit.
Snuffing out truth and getting rid of magic is the best way to control a population.
Pump them full of fear, create imaginary enemies, and distract them from anything joyful or profound. ”
“Like fake news?” Josie asked.
Raphe nodded. “Or like gaslighting. Basically, like every lyric to every fourth pseudo-intellectual pop song written by an underfed pretentious blonde—ow. You keep your hands to yourself, Princess, or I’ll rip them from your arms.”
Josie would have run screaming from the room if Raphe had snarled that threat at her, but Naliti appeared unfazed.
“You better not be referring to Her,” the faery said, arms crossed and chin lowered. “If you are, I’ve got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined.”
“So, to sum up,” Josie said quickly, “the universe consists of multiple dimensions or worlds with magic. To travel from one magical world to another, you book a room in a Wayside, and to get to a Wayside, you gotta travel certain roads, and you, Pax, were a soldier who protected those roads.”
Pax’s mouth straightened and he looked away, uncomfortable.
Raphe sneered. “Oh, he was brave, my dear. You should have Pax tell you stories about what he and his soldiers sacrificed during those campaigns.”
Why were the best-looking guys always such asshats? Even on other worlds.
Josie continued her summary as though Raphe hadn’t spoken.
“Everything was normal until the elevator broke. Ever since, Number Five has degenerated to her present state and her fuel gauge shows empty, so you’re stuck in my world, which has no magic, until you can figure out what’s wrong with her, but you don’t have a clue what that might be. ”
“Exactly,” said Maddy.
“So…” Josie said, completely at a loss. “What the heck does this have to do with me?”
· · ·
“You fucked up this time, Pax.”
Every bit of patience Pax had stored was depleted after yesterday afternoon’s revelations.
Unable to sleep, he’d wandered the halls of Number Five, deliberately avoiding the sixth floor.
At three in the morning, he’d begun stacking boxes in the lobby when the front door had opened and Raphe had staggered into the building, obviously having freshly fed.
Even Number Five, with her aversion to violence, wouldn’t blame him if he reached over and grabbed the vampire by the throat. In fact…
“Erp perhchip muglecho.” Raphe twisted in Pax’s grip, feet two inches off the ground, unable to force anything more cogent than gibberish out given the hold Pax had on his windpipe.
“Oh dear. Um, Paladin?”
“Yes, Bert?”
The gargoyle sat across the lobby from the mailboxes in his usual alcove and dressed in a shocking orange-and-blue shirt with a large blue fish across the chest. Ernie’s alcove remained empty, as he had declared himself on strike until his unique position of representing the welcoming spirit of Number Five was better respected.
“You are tasked with upholding peace and dignity in the eternal fight against the Dark,” Bert reminded Pax in a melancholy voice. “Pinning the prince to the wall isn’t dignified. Nor peaceful.”
Pax did not let go.
“I am no longer a paladin,” he pointed out. “I’m the hotel manager, and as such, it falls to me to discipline unruly guests.”
“Hmmmm.” Bert hummed a disappointed-sounding response.
Pax waited a second or two longer while Raphe’s face turned a satisfying shade of purple, before he released his grip. He turned to the gargoyle and gave him a slight bow.
“I beg your pardon, Bertrand son of Betradette. You have the right of it. I should not—”
Pax lifted his hand, easily catching Raphe’s retaliatory punch and squeezing hard enough to snap a finger, then continued. “I should not be lowering myself to anything below a paladin’s standards, despite my retirement from service.”
“Why don’t you take your noble speeches and shove them up your—ow!” Raphe yanked his hand out of Pax’s, whirled around, and confronted Bert. “Did you flick your tail at me? I am going to carry you to the rooftop and drop you to the ground, you pumice-brained knickknack.”
Bert bared his rows of sharpened teeth.
“You are lucky my anger is too precious to waste on self-important decor,” Raphe taunted, then turned back to face off with Pax.
“You fucked up, O fearless defender of the Light. That woman cannot be trusted with our secret. Humans are one of the most ignorant, self-destructive, and violent races I’ve ever come across—and I’m a vampire.
What will they do to us when our real selves are revealed? ”
“Josephine is completely trustworthy,” Pax said.
The vampire spoke over Pax’s insistence. “Maddy—they’ll stick her in a laboratory and cut off her snakes. Bert and Ernie? Supersoldiers. And myself? Well, no doubt I will rule over Russia and most of Eastern Europe,” he preened, “but only after cataclysmic bloodshed.”
“You cannot judge all humans by the media you consume,” scolded Bert. “You’ve watched too many scary movies. I advise you to let Miss Nekesa curate your DVD selection like Ernie and I do. A little Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse will lighten you up in no time.”
“Ugh.” Raphe held up his hands in a warding gesture. “None of that heavy-handed feminist malarkey, please.”
Uninterested in the ensuing argument between Bert and Raphe on Barbie and how she fit into postwar feminism, Pax returned to sorting boxes.
How would Maddy tell the rest of the tenants and what would be their reactions? Gut roiling, Pax acknowledged to himself many of them would agree with Raphe. Despite the faeries’ wholehearted embrace of human culture, many looked upon humans with disdain and even outright hostility.
This world contained resources without end, but most humans went without them. The tiniest majority controlled its vast wealth. Anger drenched the airwaves, contaminating communication, and most governments equated peace with capitulation.
Even Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse was not without its flaws; he had yet to see an episode featuring a neurodiverse or abjectly poor Barbie. Also, Ken did not get nearly enough credit.
The doors to the sixth-floor mailboxes sprung open with a low wheeze and black sand poured out.
What would the sixth-floor guests do in a world starved of magic?
What if they came to this world only to destroy it?
“There now,” Pax said softly, and closed the mailboxes up with care. “We’ll figure out how to mend you, don’t you worry.”
Bert and Raphe fell silent as Pax whispered soothing nonsense words, got a broom, and swept up the black sand, which promptly disappeared from the dustpan.
“The fact remains,” Raphe said finally, “we’re still missing something vital to Number Five’s survival. We tried it your way with a new guest from a new world and it hasn’t solved the problem.”
“You are too impatient,” Pax told him. “Give it time.”
Bert set his elbows on his knees and made a cradle for his chin.
“More time makes it worse. The guests grow restless as the weeks drag on, and the lack of magic puts them out of sorts. There are some who gave up everything they owned to travel the magical ways. Who knows how much time has passed since we came here? It could be years. Centuries.”
Raphe nodded in agreement. “No matter how much we caution them, the guests are going to want to get out of here and explore this world. What’s going to happen when Cierume stops yelling at the news, picks up her dancing stick, and takes matters into her own hands?
Who’s going to keep her from kicking ass from here to Washington, DC? Not me.”
Pax had been worrying about this as well.
“Not to mention the sixth-floor guests,” Raphe added. “If the human woman is scared by a big pussy like the boogeyman, wait till she meets her truly terrifying neighbors.” Raphe talked a big game, but even he could not hide his apprehension when he brought up the sixth floor.
“Everything will be different now.” Pax tried to appease the nervous vampire. “We explained to her she is to play a vital part in healing Number Five.”
“Hmmph,” Raphe grunted. “I noticed you never told the human her part could be played dead or alive.”
“I’m not going to allow—”
Raphe cut Pax’s protest short. “You seem to believe because you are the hotel manager you have control over your guests. You don’t.”
Pinpricks of rage heated the tips of Pax’s fingers, and the stench of boiling tar stung the back of his throat.
“What are you saying, Prince?” he asked, hand to his hip. No sword hung there, but if it truly came down to it, he could have Raphe’s windpipe in his hands before the vampire had time to blink. “Is that a challenge?”
True to character, the vampire scoffed even as he stepped back.
“Simply stating the obvious, Paladin. You can call as many meetings as you like, create as many gardens as Number Five can hold, sic Maddy on whatever poor fool comes by, but you cannot stop a guest from leaving out those doors and creating havoc if they set their mind to it.”