Chapter 11

            Nanora awoke to a sharp pain in her stomach and the back of her head. Everything was sore, wet from laying on the concrete, or both. She could still feel Bayla’s fist slamming into her side. She had heard that transformed blackfish were still powerful on the land, but Bayla’s strength had caught her completely off guard.

            There was that jabbing pain again.

            “Hey, I said wake up!”

            Nanora’s eyes flew open, revealing a starry night lit only by the park’s street lights. An irate local constable dominated her view, and his prodding foot was what kept aggravating her bruised side.

            Oh no. Her first order from home command was to not draw attention, especially from law enforcement. I suppose that keg is now tapped. I will simply have to do my best to smooth things over… and perhaps leave this out of my report.

            “I’m well, sir,” she managed. Put on a brave face, Nanora! He’s your ally in dispensing justice. Surely he will understand!

            “Miss, I can’t say I give two craps about that right now,” he said. “Your little friend in the costume knocked me out, and I want to know where the hell she is!”

            “My friend in the costume? I’m sorry, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            “Don’t play dumb with me,” he snapped. “That space cadet from Narnia with the filed-down teeth. I refuse to believe you’re dressed for Halloween in June and you weren’t in on their weird game.”

Nanora pursed her lips as she sorted out the man’s confusing words. “Oh, the blackfish. She isn’t from Narnia, silly. That’s from a fantasy book. We both hail from the Land of Avalas, which is a realm—"

“Spare the backstory, nerd,” he said. “Where are they?”

I am sure he had a rough night; that awful poacher did knock him out, after all. Nanora levered herself up, putting up a hand to the officer. He ignored her unspoken request for a hand up, so she helped herself instead. “I tried to apprehend her captor, but they put up a spirited resistance.” She held up her summoning bracelet as proof, wiggling the one blackened piece of jewelry. “They even forcibly unsummoned poor Tanos here! It’s going to take a week to repair this summoning charm.”

He rolled his eyes. “Goddamn live action role-players. Well, I hope you’re ready for the real-life consequences of assaulting an officer of the law!”

Nanora held up her hands. “Oh, no sir, I would never!” She posed dramatically. “I am Nanora ag Sintala, the Ivory Witch! Ally of good and protector of these lands.”

He grimaced at her. “Well, I’m Sergeant Philip Murphy of the Fin Island Sheriff’s Office, the actual protector of these lands. You have two seconds to tell me who they were before I get annoyed.”

He already seems piqued, but I should not mention that. “The man’s name was Vince Meyer. I know that much; I have a gift for names.” Nanora smiled warmly at him. She saw his hard expression ever so slightly soften.

“Finally, some real info!” Sergeant Murphy whipped out a small notebook and scribbled it down. “You aren’t as useless as you look.”

Nanora’s grin wavered. Not the kindest compliment, but I’m sure he means well. She scratched her chin. “He kept calling her the North Alliance’s word for ‘whale’ over and over, though. Can you think of why she would not give him her name?”

Murphy rolled his eyes again. “I don’t get anything you role-players do. Anyway, you’re coming back to the station for your statement about what your friends did.”

            Nanora scoffed at the idea. “They are no friends of mine! However, I would greatly appreciate your help in apprehending them. I can lead you straight to them.” Her eyes fell upon the fallen hunting knife.

            Phil Murphy pursed his lips. If cooperating with this strange woman would let him catch that midget with the mean right hook, then he could put up with it.

            However, when the witch went right for the hunting knife at their feet, he hopped back. “Put down that weapon!” He drew the taser at his hip and leveled it at her in one smooth motion.

            Nanora’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, this? I assure you, I have no ill will towards you.”

            “Neither do I, as long as you aren’t brandishing a knife at me!”

            “I… oh my.” The blade had lost its red hue at some point. Darn it, the spell wore off! That should have lasted days. Sympathetic magic is always so tricky.

            “I said drop it!”

            She followed his order without complaint. The blade was useless to her, now. “Do you know how to find out where Vince Meyer lives?”

            Sergeant Murphy still seemed agitated. Nanora was not sure why; she had dropped the weapon, after all. “I do. Now, hands behind your head. You’re coming with me.”

            Nanora beamed at him. “Excellent! I am without resources to continue my investigation. Please take me to your base of operations. We will find those miscreants!”

            She was not sure why he shoved her into the back of his squad-car, or bound her hands with metal. Thankfully, it was not the right sort to block her magic. Did he know that? She decided to keep that to herself.

            As they drove away, Sergeant Murphy was not sure how the conversation had turned out that way. Did she just surrender, or does she think she’s deputizing herself? He might have overreacted; he was probably not going to press charges over the drawn knife, but being knocked out by one of these weirdos had him on edge. He still read her the Miranda Rights, just to be safe, but she showed a shocking lack of concern at her plight.

            Either way, somebody was going to pay for knocking him out. He was simply less sure it would be the redheaded woman.

**************

Vince sighed as he pulled into the parking lot in front of the Knight n’ Day convenience store.

“Where are we?” moaned Bayla, the first intelligible noise she had made since he had buckled her into her seat. Vince’s ears still rang from the intense whale song in such a small space. She had slumped deep into the passenger seat, and her already pale skin bore a sickly pallor. “Is there a healer here?”

“Not exactly,” he said, carefully unbuckling her seatbelt. Not carefully enough; she let out a pained yelp as his hand brushed across her wound. “We can’t heal things the same way you do. We’re going to get you well enough to help yourself.”

She frowned. “Tell me you at least have some magic to deaden the pain.”

“Some whiskey or Tylenol. Not that you should mix the two.”

“I take back what I said,” she groused. “Landman magic is inferior.”

“Told you,” he replied. “Can you walk?”

Her miserable groan was answer enough. Had he made a mistake not rushing her to a doctor? She might’ve been better off being discovered than dead.

He shook his head. It’s not like the clinic would have griffon antivenom on hand. You made your choice, now do what you can.

He took her hand, and he felt his bones grind together as her hand clamped down on his. “Do you know what’s good for griffon venom?”

“Cannot say,” she grunted, her voice strained. “I have never been stung before. They swim between the islands sometimes. They taste a bit like seabird, and a bit like otter.”

Not an especially useful answer, but at least she could still talk.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Hang in there.”

“Hurry,” she whimpered.

He followed her instructions too well, rushing through the convenience store’s glass doors and stumbling into a cardboard standee of a cartoonish knight. A speech balloon above his head swore he was there to vanquish high prices. He wasn’t able to fight off Vince’s accidental tackle, and he fell to the ground with a clatter.

The commotion drew a summoned the store’s owner from behind the counter, along with her favorite shotgun. “Stop!” Vince could not help gulping; for just a split second, there was murder in Ava Meyer’s eyes.

It was quickly replaced with suspicion. “Oh, it’s only you,” she said, lowering the weapon.

“Hello to you too, Ma,” he replied. “You’re lucky it’s me; a regular customer would take that kinda thing personally.”

“Anybody barging in like that at this time of night is not a regular customer,” she said. “It’s nice to see you, Vinnie.”

Everyone told Vince he took after his mother, which was true enough. Her tied-back hair was the same shade of blonde as his, though a few streaks of grey had worked their way in around the temples. He had also inherited her freckled face. He absolutely did not have her steely, grey eyes; he wished he did. People would probably take him more seriously if he could imitate her intense glare.

Ava checked her watch. “You’re twelve hours early for your shift. You never show up on Saturdays; do you need money again?”

Vince felt his dander rise, but he forced himself to cool off. Bayla’s out there. “No actually, I’m here to give you some cash.”

The Knight ‘n Day was laid out like a typical convenience store. Nothing was in abundance, but there was a little of everything. The most prominent display was the liquor cabinet locked behand a steel cage. Vince hesitated, before deciding against it. Bayla said the problem was focus, and booze is absolutely not going to help.

He wandered over to the small selection of pain medications. “What’s the strongest thing you have for pain?”

“Strongest? The one at the end.” Ava studied her son with obvious concern. “Are you alright, Vinnie?”

He chuckled nervously, patting his side. His wince was extremely convincing. “Took a tumble while I was out hiking. That survival book you got for me didn’t talk about how to fight off a hidden tree root.” He almost told her he’d used the lessons twice in one day, but he kept quiet.

“Bah,” she said, her worry evaporating in an instant. “I still don’t get why you’re so nuts about the woods. Nothing but death and danger out there.”

“It’s nice to be alone with my thoughts occasionally,” he replied, picking up the bottle, and some water to go with the medicine. “What’s the damage?” Some people might have expected him to get a freebie, but those people had not seen the Knight ‘n Day’s balance as closely as Vince had.

Ava went back behind the register. Before she could rattle off a price, a piercing whistle echoed through the shop.

“What was that?” demanded Ava.

“I don’t know,” said Vince, though his voice hitched at the lie.

Bayla cried out again, leaving no doubt about the source of the racket. Ava sprang over the counter and rushed outside. To Vince’s relief, she forgot the shotgun this time.

            The orca girl had attempted to follow Vince into the shop, but she was sprawled out on the asphalt. Vince rushed to her side. “Bayla!”

            “I-I can’t stand it anymore,” she said, her nails digging at her Aqua Armor. “My whole side feels stormy.”

            Vince tried to look reassuring as he shook the bottle before her eyes. “Be brave, alright? These’ll help.”

            “I am always brave,” snapped Bayla, though there was no fire in her words.

            “So, you took a tumble?” Ava’s dry tone took him out of whatever moment he and Bayla were having. “Who is she? And what is wrong with her hair?”

            “Absolutely nothing,” mumbled Bayla.

“Ma, this is Bayla. Bayla, this is my mother, Ava Meyer. We had a bit of an accident.”

The orca’s eyes latched onto Ava. “We gave as good as we got,” declared Bayla in a voice that was quiet, yet firm.

Ava’s eyebrow raised, but she wasted no time on questions. “Get her inside,” she ordered, and Vince scooped up Bayla. The door was locked was locked in a flash and the sign switched to ‘closed’. “Take her upstairs.”

Vince could not recall the last time he had been to his childhood home. Probably last Christmas. The living room was not much bigger than his own, but it had a much higher ceiling, giving the illusion of space. Nothing had changed since he had moved out, except that her sewing machine was nowhere to be seen. I guess she did finally turn my bedroom into a sewing room, like she always threatened.

He took a step through the doorway, but her arm blocked his way. “Don’t put her straight on the couch,” snapped Ava. “I just cleaned it. Stay right where you are; I’ll be right back.”

“This is your mother?” asked Bayla. “She talks to you like a servant.”

“It’s just Ma’s way,” he replied. “Also, whatever you do, do not say or imply you’re a whale, or from anywhere else. Got it? Ma will not understand.”

“Of course,” she replied. “I am not addled this time.”

“Vinnie,” called Ava from the bathroom. “What kind of an accident was it? She smells like booze.”

“She tripped,” said Vince. Ma should believe that. “We went out to see the Fin Island Experience and she fell on something sharp in the parking lot.”

Ava returned and placed a plastic cover over the leather couch. She gestured for him to put Bayla down as she disappeared into the bathroom again, reappearing with a first aid kit. “And you’re here instead of the twenty-four-hour clinic because…”

“She isn’t officially supposed to be here,” said Vince. “There’d be questions.”

Ava’s eyes narrowed at the prone orca. “Is she an illegal? Actually, don’t answer. I don’t want to know. Just… it’s nothing dangerous, is it?”

Vince fidgeted awkwardly under her intense gaze, feeling six again. “I… I can’t lie to you, Ma. There’s some problems. Nothing illegal, but there’s a lot I’m still sorting out.” Well, besides assaulting an officer, but that was Bayla, not me. It assuaged his conscience a bit.

“What, did you get her pregnant or something?”

“What?” Vince’s face burned red. “No!”

Bayla hissed in pain, and Vince fed her two of the nearly-forgotten pills.

Ava shook her head. “We’ll talk about it later.” She knelt down next to Bayla, and the orca recoiled from her piercing glare. “Where does it hurt?”

Bayla gingerly touched her side, her hand coming away red.

Ava pursed her lips. “How did she stick herself so badly without ruining her dress?”

Bayla’s lips started moving without waiting for instructions from her brain. “It’s Aq—”

“Couldn’t rightly tell you,” replied Vince, covering the orca’s mouth with his hand. “Just lucky, I guess.”

“I see. It’s ruined now, I’m afraid. And it’s going to have to come off. Vince, get over here; keep pressure on the wound.”

Vince felt his face burn again as she took a pair of scissors to the Aqua Armor. They sliced through the magically reinforced fabric like it was nothing, to Vince’s surprise. He wondered if that was Bayla’s will, or a sign of her sorry state.

“Vinnie, you really need to stop being so bashful. Unless this is the first time you’ve gotten her naked?”

“No, Vincemeyer has seen me without hides before, though he is still rather shy about it. Understandable, since we aren’t mates.”

“Good,” replied Ava. “I wasn’t ready to be a grandmother anyway.”

“Ma!”