Jamaica Blue Magic: Chapter 11

Let's look back in on our other viewpoint...

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Chapter 11.

Jared waited for the signal that Walküre had been chocked, and then began the process of shutting the aircraft down, going over every item on the checklist, down to physically verifying that the plane was, indeed, properly chocked and secured by the attending personnel. Jet aircraft were finicky things and needed proper care—and if you were going to depend on them when you were at thirty thousand feet above an ocean, three thousand miles from land, you had better have remembered every tiny detail of that care.

Satisfied that Walküre would be properly cared for in his absence, Jared carried his few bags to the IAM Jet Centre, the private terminal at Sangster International Airport. He could easily have had someone else do the unloading, but, like most things, he preferred to do it himself. Customs cleared him quickly; his people had made sure they were aware of his own unusual requirements and that all of the necessary arrangements had been made beforehand, so there were only a few odd glances at the Silbernseele’s hilt, and no comments.

The car, a customized Phantom, was waiting for him in the private lot. Someone watching might have wondered just what he was doing as he first walked around the vehicle, examining it from every angle, including extending something like a long walking cane with something that glittered at the end. The long-handled mirror allowed him to look under the silver-gray car and examine its undercarriage in detail. He also examined other, more unusual instruments. None of them showed anything out of the ordinary, so he finally opened the vehicle and examined the interior just as carefully, popping the hood to check the engine as well. Satisfied, Jared loaded his luggage into the trunk, unfastened the Silbernseele and placed it through a loop on the passenger-side door, and got in.

When you were a prince—even the least of princes—of a country with a meritocratic government and sometimes rather extreme political factions, you took nothing for granted. Not even the safety of a car your own people had arranged for you. Scars on his chest itched at the thought. No. Nothing for granted.

On the road towards Montego Bay at last, Jared activated the phone. It rang only once. "Is all acceptable, Jared?" said a familiar voice in the slightly accented German of Engelshand.

"Perfect, Kyland. No hitch in the arrangements. What should I know about my ride that is not obvious?"

"Nothing terribly surprising. Run-flat tires, of course, and standard armor. No other surprises. With such short notice we had to take what was within range to ship out in time to reach you in Jamaica."

"Understood. I'm en route to Montego Bay. Was Freya’s cabin free?"

"Fortunately, yes. No one is currently using it, and there is no one expected for at least two weeks; the regular staff is in residence, of course. I have informed your sister that you will be there until further notice."

That was good. Staying at a location he was at least reasonably familiar with was vastly preferable to going to an unknown, and possibly difficult to secure rental, no matter how posh it might be. Freya’s taste in decorations didn't entirely jibe with his, but that was a minor issue. "Any word on Lady Aphrodite?"

A feminine voice answered. "Enrica speaking. I was able to determine through our contacts that Lady Aphrodite is currently in a modest cottage near the bay. Contact information is being sent to your phone directly."

"We don't have any agents in this area, do we?"

"No. Freya does, of course, but—"

He sighed. "But, yes. Sehr gut. I shall have to, as they say, play it by ear."

The real problem, he thought as he cut the connection, is that we are still so very new to this secret world.

In any other country on Earth, he and his siblings would have been raised with the truth; the League supported, and was supported by, the powerful, with arrangements in place to maintain the balance of power and the secrecy of the mystical world that lay behind the ordinary politics of the world. Education in the schools covered history that was not taught elsewhere; powerful, not-precisely human patrons supported families from the shadows and could offer healing or even elevation to immortality for the select few.

But Engelshand … Engelshand had been different, in ways Jared had never suspected. Not only had the half-legendary Balder Engelshand founded a country built on an (admittedly bizarre) meritocratic aristocracy; apparently he and his sister had also been responsible for turning the country, first into one of the foremost centers of witch-hunting in the world, and then, later, into the only country to completely turn its back on the supernatural world, driving forth every trace of mystical power and influence and focusing entirely on the material and mundane—to the point that, at any given time, only the current ruler and his or her chosen successor knew anything of that secret world.

Well, that’s not quite true. He’d discovered—rather painfully—that there were also a few in the higher aristocracy of Engelshand, those socially only one or two ranks below him, who were also aware—and resentful—of the supernatural world hidden beneath the mundane.

But for Jared, it had all started when his oldest sister, Hilde, had asked him for a favor.

 

***

 

"Of course, Hilde, name it." Jared looked curiously at Hilde. The tall, silver-blonde woman was more than just a sister to him; given that he was the fourteenth of fourteen children and she was the second, she was really the closest thing to a mother he had known, since his own mother had died shortly after he was born. She had always been direct, uncompromising, strict… and yet capable of warmth that made him always look forward to the time he could spend in the castle.

What Hilde wasn't was nervous. She was always in control, running much of the household with absolute control and not a hint of effort, and she and Thor—Jared’s eldest brother—were the heirs apparent to Father, if and when he chose to step down. So seeing her standing in his doorway, foot tapping with an unconscious, nervous rhythm made him three times more nervous.

"I have a friend—her name’s Lilith. Lilith Murray, of the Murrays, you understand."

While he had never met any of them, Jared certainly knew of the clan, so he nodded again.

"Well, she has a son—a little younger than you—but he’s at Eton this year and, well, she wants him to have a roommate."

"Ah." Jared thought that explained at least some of Hilde’s nervousness. Obviously she wanted him to be this other boy’s roommate, and that meant giving up some of his security and privacy. "If it’s important to you, it’s not an issue. Of course."

"Wait, Jared. There’… he’s not quite…" For the first time in his memory, he saw Hilde actually flustered—literally unable to find the words for what she was trying to say, and he felt a twinge of worry.

He turned away from his packing and stood, putting a hand on Hilde’s shoulder. "Hilde, what is it?"

She took a deep breath. "Jared… I'm going to have to tell you a secret that no one in the family other than Father, Thor, and myself know. You will have to keep it secret in turn. Do you understand?"

A secret so restricted that even my other, older siblings do not know it? The twinge was now one of excitement. What could it possibly be? "You can rely on me, of course, Hilde. If secret it must be, then secret it shall be."

"Of course." Even then, she hesitated, like a diver at the edge of a high and perilous cliff. Finally, she shook herself and spoke. "The Murrays of course want excellent academic performances from their children, and Keenan is showing some reluctance in following this path. She—Lilith, I mean—hopes that you could be a good influence on him. But," she drew in one more huge breath, "but he is not… exactly human."

Jared blinked. I could not have heard that correctly. "Beg pardon?"

"Keenan Murray is a fae, Jared. A Leanan Sidhe, to be precise."

 

***

 

Just the recollection of his utter dumbfoundedness was enough to make him laugh as he took the car past a slower vehicle. My worldview was rather drastically enlarged that day. And continued to be for quite some time after.

He glanced over at the Silbernseele, the huge sword of the Engelshand family that had been passed down through so many generations that there was no longer any clear idea of when it had been forged. It had been given to him to keep when he was only seven, because of his enthusiasm—be honest, obsession—with the old family legends of heroic deeds, of slaying of dragons and trolls and other monsters to defend the innocent, and the way he had sought to make himself worthy of this old tradition since he had been… was it really at six that he’d decided he wanted to be a Knight?

Another chuckle. Yes, I suppose I was that young. And then, at fifteen, he found that the legends had been absolutely true… from, as the one movie might have said, a "certain point of view". The Engelshands had descended from a line of witch-hunters, a branch of the Teutonic Knights and others that had preceded them. A few centuries ago, however, they had decided to cleanse their country of all nonhuman influences and driven them out, cutting off contact… and erasing knowledge of that secret world from all but the very, very top of the key families.

And then I insisted on involving myself in Keenan and Fiona’s affairs. That had rather set the cat among the pigeons; there were factions within Engelshand, and even outside of it, that had a far less than flattering opinion of any nonhuman beings, and who had regarded Engelshand as the one refuge and true shining example left in a corrupt world. Jared, from their point of view, was either a terribly misled victim of the subtle and deadly wiles of the leanan sidhe and their ilk, or a Judas ready to betray the nation and its principles for the sake of his inhuman friends.

He shook his head. Enough woolgathering. He had passed through the Montego Bay area, where Lady Aphrodite was staying, but he hadn't intended to just stop in. It would be extremely rude, as he wasn't an intimate of hers and had no idea whether she was even receiving visitors at this time; given the circumstances he was sure she would see him eventually, but a sudden appearance would not go over well.

Instead, he continued along the A1 for a few miles until he reached a private turnoff; the gates, which looked simple and not terribly strong, were not only far more formidable than they looked but were backed by other methods to discourage trespassers; the gate opened to his personal signal, which also ensured that none of the other measures were activated. From there it was only a few moments to the front door of the cabin.

Jared grinned wryly at the thought. One thing he had tried to teach himself—partly because Keenan had forcibly, and sometimes with justifiable anger, opened his eyes to the totality of the world—was to look at things through the eyes of people not born to his station. Calling it a cabin was something only someone of immense wealth would do without being purposely ironic. From any other viewpoint, it was a house, and not a small one, large enough for entertaining a decent-sized crowd or allowing even a large family sufficient living space. Admittedly, any vacation spot owned by the family will be sized to fit a family that has fourteen children. But then, only someone of great wealth could afford distant vacation spots for fourteen-child families.

The door opened as he stepped out of the car and he saw Lanecia, the tall black woman who acted as head-of-house for the staff, looking out. "Mister Jared, good to see you again!" she said. She blinked as he stood. "My, you have grown some since you were here last!"

He smiled back. "That was five years ago, Lanecia, I was hardly grown then at all. You don't seem to have changed at all." That wasn't quite true; she was still tall, but she looked far smaller now from his adult height, and she seemed, oddly, younger, perhaps because of that.

"My mirror says otherwise, but thank you, honey. Just you this time, right?"

"For now, yes. You won't need to call in the full staff, they can go about their own business. I'll be in my regular room, if it’s available?"

"Just renovated last season, so it’s in fine shape. I'll bet you're hungry. What will you be having for dinner?"

"Tell Darnay—it is still Darnay, yes?" At her nod he went on, "Tell Darnay to surprise me. He’s never disappointed me yet."

"All right." As he strapped the Silbernseele back on, she stopped and shook her head. "You're still carrying that monster? Ahh, well, it fits you better now."

"Still, and with more reason these days, Lanecia. I do want full security details out and ready. Tell them hazard bonuses are in effect. I don't expect trouble, but if there is any it may be very bad."

"Dear me. Understood, I'll get Romdall and Alwan on it right away."

"Thank you."

Once in his room, he took out his phone and found the information Enrica had sent. Time to truly set things in motion.

The phone on the other end rang twice, and then was picked up. "Niccoli residence."

He recognized the calm, almost musical voice instantly. "Hermes! It is good to hear your voice again."

There was a moment of hesitation, then, "Jared? Jared Engelshand?"

"It is. And let me first offer my deepest sympathies and condolences to the Lady and to all of you in the household. It is… inconceivable to me that someone would have wished Antonio harm."

"Your sentiments are very much appreciated, Jared," Hermes said. Jared could envision him now, the young-appearing fae of Greek extraction, probably with a somewhat puzzled expression on his face. "Yet—meaning no offense, you understand—you were hardly an intimate of the family, and I am … surprised you knew how to contact us here."

"I am no intimate, no, but Ophelia is, as I understand it."

"Ah. Yes, I believe I take your full meaning. You would like to call on the Lady, then?"

"If it is at all possible, yes. It was my sister’s earnest request."

"Then I shall consult with Lady Aphrodite. I believe, despite her current condition, that she will see you, it is just a matter of when."

"I am entirely at her disposal; I am here in Jamaica at our family’s vacation home." He gave Hermes the contact information. "I understand, of course, the tremendous blow this is to her, personally, and I do not wish to cause her any undue stress, but I do sincerely offer any services that I might be able to provide."

"I am sure she will appreciate that, Jared. I will contact you as soon as I have spoken with her."

"Then I can ask no more. I hope to hear from you soon."

"You shall."

As he shut off the phone, Jared was suddenly assailed by another sharp set of memories: the Niccoli’s great yacht, ablaze with light and laughter, dozens of fae and their prospective… suitors walking the decks… Keenan next to him, offering both quiet advice and acid commentary… Lady Aphrodite, the host and center of the celebration, greeting him and his brother Seigfreid, her Antonio at her side… Fiona, standing next to him at the rail, the scent of sea mingling with her perfume, the warmth of their almost touching hands…

And now Fiona is gone, Antonio is gone, and if anything I have been told is true, half of the Lady with him. Will there be anything I can do at all in the face of such a loss?

He looked out at the sun that was now setting behind the trees, and wondered.