Chapter 5
The rec center was usually used for sporting purposes and the occasional indoor fair—no one wanted their arts and crafts table getting rained on.
Now there were a handful of what looked like shopping center security guards milling about the outside and a few cars in the car park.
Noah wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it had definitely involved more mythological people.
“So the copper I talked to said he’d radio ahead, so they are expecting us.”
“Then why do you sound so uncertain?”
“Because I was expecting to see…” Noah shrugged. “I don’t know…”
“Werewolves running around?” Pan offered.
“Yeah, maybe. My aunt said that teaching a mythological person English was low on the list of priorities. Human cops don’t think it’s important.”
“To them, it’s not important. To us, it is, and it’s something we can take action on. Even though it’s only a small step, I feel as though it is a step in the right direction.” Pan sighed. “But cows first because trust me, eight rotting cows are rapidly going to become everybody’s problem.”
Noah nodded but didn’t feel any more confident in walking up to the door. “Hey, I’m Noah. I’ve come to talk to the werewolves about some cows.”
The security guard stared down at him. He was the kind of thick-necked guy who looked as if being a security guard was his part-time gig, and his full-time gig was working out.
Noah was pretty sure he probably spoke in things like macros and kilos and lived to feel the burn or something. “You want to talk to the monsters?”
“Er, yeah,” Noah said, feeling as though the guard was about to laugh and tell him to fuck off, which would throw their not-quite-a-plan off track.
“They don’t speak English.”
“I need a few of them to come and collect the dead cows that a farmer dropped off for them out the front of the pub.” He was getting really tired of telling this story. “The cows died in the collapse and can’t be eaten by humans.” The more he said that, the more he hated it as well.
But just because the cow hadn’t been killed in a manner appropriate for humans didn’t mean it was bad, did it?
He had no idea how mythologicals usually killed their livestock…
assuming they had livestock. Pan hadn’t said that they didn’t.
Nor did he seem particularly worried about offering the werewolves the cows, so maybe it wasn’t as insensitive as it felt.
The guard considered him for several seconds, then jerked his head. “Go on then.”
Noah exhaled and walked into the rec center with Pan close behind him. In the lobby, there was a woman on the phone. She was asking for blankets and clothing, and from the look on her face, she wasn’t getting very far. She put her hand up silently, asking them to stop.
Noah sighed. Why was this so bloody difficult?
She hung up. “How can I help you? You’re not mythological?”
But she didn’t seem too certain, and Noah wasn’t sure either. Was he mythological because he had a selkie coat? He could have that crisis another time. “No, we’re here because the farmer left some cows at the pub and we’re hoping the werewolves want them.”
“The pub with the spire and the dragon?”
“Yeah.” Noah nodded.
The woman frowned. “Do dragons not eat cow?”
“They’ve eaten plenty, and they seem to be full,” Noah rushed on before Pan mentioned that he could talk to dragons or that he knew their dietary requirements, which would blow their cover as two normal humans who definitely weren’t hiding horns or magic coats.
“It might be tough going—talking to them, that is, even though someone said we should put a radio on for them so they can start to learn English…” her shoulders sagged.
“If you know of anyone with spare blankets, can you tell them to drop them off? I know everyone is struggling, but this is hard. There are people in there sleeping on the floor.”
“We’ll see what we can do. I’m sure we know a few people with a spare blanket or two,” Pan said.
The only people Pan knew were the vampires in the palace. Oh…how many blankets were in the palace? And how many beds?
But the palace didn’t have running water.
Or electricity.
Had there been electricity and running water on Tariko?
The woman picked up the phone and waved them on. Noah pushed open the door that usually led onto the court. There were no games now, only huddles of miserable-looking people.
It wasn’t hard to spot the werewolves as they were in one corner and looked much like the horror movie version—upright like a man, but furry and with a wolf’s head, claws, and tail.
There were also groups of beautiful people with pointed ears—elves. Some large people with grey skin, which Noah couldn’t put a name to. Several other groups, too.
He glanced at Pan. “Do you have a plan because they are all kind of looking at us?”
From the wide-eyed expression on Pan’s face, Noah figured it was less of a plan and more of a cross-his-fingers-and-pray situation. Maybe he should have relented on the walk and offered a little prayer to Pan. Was it too late?
He closed his eyes and drew in a breath before whispering, “Please may the gracious and generous Pan grant us his blessings as we seek to help his people.”
“We had the entire walk, and you didn’t stop for a little magic then?” Pan muttered.
Noah opened his eyes. Don’t push it. “If we pull this off, you can worship me all you want,” he hissed.
“Fine. I will hold you to that.”
“Great. I look forward to it,” Noah snapped.
Pan’s lips curved, and Noah was sure no incubus had ever looked so alluring. “I bet you do.”
Noah’s dick was suddenly far too interested in the conversation, and it was getting warm wearing his jacket inside. He unbuttoned it, not caring that Pan was looking at him the way the dragon had looked at the trailer full of dead cows. “I am not a magical snack.”
“You are not. You are a…witch,” Pan said as if he wasn’t sure anymore.
“And if you had been born on Tariko, you would have been taught to use your gift. Right now, you are serving me by allowing me to use your connection.” There was an edge in Pan’s voice, reminding Noah that he was not dealing with a cute, curly-haired, and curly-horned twink, but a god who had probably smited more people than Noah had eaten hot dinners.
“Werewolves first, because if we can’t get their help, we have eight large problems that I really don’t want to deal with. ”
“Agreed.” Thinking about the problems they needed to sort out helped Noah not think about the way Pan looked at him. Especially when he should be more worried about the way the werewolves and the others were looking at them both. “I don’t suppose you want to take the hat off?”
“I do not.”
“So what are you?”
“Tarikian human…obviously.” Pan started toward the werewolves as if the sight didn’t bother him at all.
Noah had seen one too many horror movies not to be concerned about a wolf-headed creature. All around him were beings who, up until a few days ago, had only existed in myths and books and movies. And while most of them didn’t appear terrifying, they were still clearly not human.
Part of Noah suspected the world was not ready for this and never would be. But maybe it was what the world needed. Maybe now humans could stop fighting stupid battles over who had the best god…because clearly there was more than one.
Pan greeted the werewolves in Tarikian, or at least Noah assumed that’s what he did, because the werewolves’ demeanor changed from watching suspiciously to something a little more friendly. Was werewolf body language the same as dog? That wasn’t something he was brave enough to ask.
The conversation swept back and forth for a few rounds before Pan turned and said Noah’s name. Noah smiled, not sure what else to do.
Pan glanced at him. “Please don’t smile with your teeth showing, that’s aggressive.”
Noah sealed his lips but kept his smile in place. He should’ve guessed that because dogs bared their teeth when threatened.
The conversation continued without him. It flowed between Pan and three of the werewolves. Were they the werewolves in charge? There were about two dozen of them in the corner, including some children.
Their clothes all fitted badly, as if they had been borrowed from people the wrong size, and none of them wore shoes.
Did they need shoes when they had pads on their feet like wolves?
Their hands were also more like paws as their fingers were thick and clawed.
He watched one of the children as they played with a ragdoll, their movements clumsy as if they didn’t know how to use their hands. Something wasn’t quite right.
Nothing was right.
One of the werewolves walked over and clasped Pan’s hand as if they were old friends. He examined the ring as if to make sure that it was real. Pan nodded, and then the werewolf walked off.
Noah stepped closer and lowered his voice. “What’s going on?”
“He’s going to talk to some others about the cows and the learning of English. He seems to think it would be best to send an ogre, an elf, and a werewolf so they can spread the language amongst their kind.”
“That makes sense.”
“He also said there are others still living in their houses who refused to come to the shelter.”
“How did they come to the shelter in the first place? It’s not as though the human responders could speak to them.” Noah did not want to believe that humans had rounded them up and brought them to the rec center.”
“Medical care and hot food, and then word got around. It’s better to have a roof overhead, especially with small children.”
Noah glanced around the full rec center. “They can’t live like this forever.”
The humans in his uncle’s school probably felt the same way. They were waiting for their homes to be fixed or for relatives to offer emergency accommodation. But for how long would this emergency last?
Not only that, but Noah had no doubt the human houses would take priority.
“No, they cannot. But that is a problem to solve later.”
The trouble was, they couldn’t leave it too much later. “There must be people in here who built the houses?”
Pan nodded. “Yes, but if you can’t open your tavern until it’s been inspected by humans…does that mean these people cannot return to their houses until they have also been inspected? Will the humans trust the ogre who built the roof? Or the elf who repaired the doors and windows?”
Noah stared at his runners. “Probably not, because they don’t have the right trade certificate license.
But there aren’t enough human tradespeople to fix everything.
” Even if humans were at the front of the queue, some of them would be waiting years for their houses to be fixed.
And in that time, they would deteriorate further due to the weather, and vandals, and animals.
The werewolf returned with some new friends, and introductions were made in Tarikian. An elf made what sounded like a joke, but only a few found it amusing.
Pan shook his head and spoke in English. “It is too soon to be making jokes about the end of the world.”
“Some people cope with dark humor.”
“And some people are just trying to cope.” Pan responded to a question in Tarikian and then pointed at Noah. “Those three will be learning English.”
The elf didn’t look a day older than him, and she didn’t seem too pleased to be there.
The ogre woman was as tall as the werewolf, and her skin was a mottled gray like camouflage.
She smiled at him and said something which was presumably a greeting of some sort.
Noah assumed the werewolf was male because he was wearing pants and a shirt.
“We need to make a detour to collect a cart and to check on a couple of older people who didn’t want to leave their house,” Pan said. “It will also give me the chance to see how much of the town arrived and how badly the houses are damaged, so I can report back to Feryn.”
Once again, Noah found himself wondering what had happened to all the buildings and people who hadn’t arrived when their world collapsed, and where the missing humans and human buildings had gone.