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Elena narrowed her eyes, and the reptilian whisper made the sound that was supposed to be laughter,
"that energy has to come from somewhere. In which case there may be a price to be paid."
Elena paled. A price?
***
Somehow the Sword was easier to inhabit than the other avatars. It wasn't much for politics or mushy stuff; it preferred a mission objective and a go code. It was a bit like putting on a super-suit. Jess loved it.
She discovered that she could manifest weapons at will. Alan and Elena stared at them. They appeared solid and Elena shied away from the physical implications of their existence.
"How can you do this?" she asked. "How can you be so specific?"
"Don't know, don't care," Jess said blithely.
Her desire for a spear proved to be a bit of a sticking point; pun not intended. The Sword grumpily conceded that the wielder was entitled to a favoured weapon and then somewhat plaintively complained that She was the Sword, not the Spear. Jess hid her delight at winning her over and offered her a pair of katanas in scabbards on her back as consolation. The Sword was mollified.
Elena thought that - concerns for her well-being aside - she looked pretty fucking amazing and kissed her enthusiastically. The Sword preened.
'Consorting with a common soldier,' sniffed the Queen.
"Let's get this cleared up right now," Elena said, firmly. "First off, I am not consorting with a soldier, I am making love with my girlfriend." She winked at Jess and Jess giggled, guessing at the nature of the one sided conversation. "Secondly, the Sword is most certainly not a common soldier. She is clever, brilliant, and beautiful and my champion."
There was an unseen exchange that Elena and Jess thought amounted to the Sword sticking its tongue out at the Queen.
Jess drew the blades in turn. The shorter one was black and was immediately named Moonlight.
"Names?" Alan said quizzically.
"Of course names!" Jess retorted.
The other weapon was less a blade of polished metal and more a diamond length of laser light. She was promptly named Vengeance. But when the spear came into being in Jess' hand, black and silver striations twisting up the wicked blade, Elena gasped.
"What is it, love?" Jess asked.
"I know that spear!"
Jess blinked. "You do? How?"
"In a dream, back at the loft before we met Alan."
"Looks like you might have a touch of precog," Alan said thoughtfully, aware that the Shadow was also processing this information.
Elena thought about the other item in that dream and decided to keep that particular revelation to herself.
Jess hefted the spear. "I have a weapon foretold," she said dreamily. "She deserves a name out of legend."
"Ascalon," Alan said without thinking.
"Where does that come from?"
He looked puzzled. "I don't know, it was just suddenly there in my head."
"Gotta admit it's a cool name, though!" Jess said, brandishing the weapon. "I like it!"
Unexpectedly the Shadow asked to speak directly. "It is the name of the weapon used by St. George to slay the dragon."
"I thought he used a sword?" said Elena.
"Interpretations vary," said the Shadow and stepped back.
"Thus satisfying both requirements," Alan chuckled. "Spear and Sword." Privately he wondered at the Shadow's intervention. St. George was a different narrative. And what about Elena's foresight of the spear? Who was steering who, now? And ... was there a dragon that needed slaying?
***
Jess and Elena found it easy to accept Alan as the, um ... front end of the Shadow. Homo was already supremely good at modelling scenarios, Alan just took it to another level, weaving probabilities, potential futures rising and falling at his fingertips.
Beyond that, Elena sensed they were at a critical juncture. Alan had said that their auguries were opaque, there being simply too many possibilities fanning out from this, this ... nexus. They were very close to the focus of the light cone, the infinitely narrow intersection wherein the slightest flap of the butterfly's wing would spawn a hurricane downslope.
What they said and did in the next few hours and days would have profound consequences, but Elena found that Jess' abrupt adoption of the Sword without losing any of her essential, um, Jess-ness, made her less fearful of the future. Perhaps there was a route out of this after all.
***
The safe house 7pm, 3 rd June
As the evening beckoned, the trio tried to settle after the tumultuous events of the day. Jess felt twitched, the lingering eldritch adrenaline of the Sword's manifestation catapulting her from her chair to pace around until Alan and Elena told her to go somewhere, anywhere, as long it was away.
Needing some space, Elena took herself to the kitchen and arming herself with a pad of paper and a pencil, started to doodle equations. There was something the Russians had done in their ArXiv paper that was niggling at her. Leviathan was to the fore.
From wherever She was, the Queen watched in fascination. By Her nature She was not inclined to fear, but this aspect of Elena was one She viewed with apprehension. It was a remorseless engine of logic, not to be swayed by emotion, not amenable to manipulation. If anything was going to defy Her, it would be this. A great many of the Queen's musings were occupied by this need to take account of Elena's fearsome intellect. Yet, for all Her doubts, She revelled in the quality of her host. This need not be mere possession; this had the potential to be an order of magnitude better than anything She could have hoped for. This was like having the bastard offspring of Jeanne d'Arc and an engine of creation at Her fingertips!
Alan was sitting on the sofa, trying and failing to read a newspaper. His eyes kept drifting over the top of the paper to Elena and his emotions tugged at him. Having been hijacked into entanglement by Jess' seduction he was suspicious of his feelings. It didn't help that the Shadow was suspicious of everything and that bled into Alan's thinking. Everything had happened so fast, there was the feeling of a fait accompli, of not having been given a choice in any of it. Yet when he looked at the blonde at the kitchen table there was a little glow in his chest that didn't feel like it had been imposed.
In certain quarters of the Folk, love was derided as a pale imitation of Sympathy, something for regular Sapiens to cling to. Others held a more nuanced view, that love was more than merely a social defence mechanism, that it held a fragile ground between affection and Sympathy. It could not be railroaded by witchy powers, it had to be cultivated and nurtured and was therefore to be prized.
He prodded the glow cautiously and Elena's head turned to him, one eyebrow raised in a silent query. Then the third part of their triumvirate materialised to spoil the moment. Elena's eyes flicked to Jess and then back to him and her mouth quirked.
"Let's go out to dinner!" Jess said, bouncing from foot to foot in an annoyingly Tiggerish way.
"Here?" Elena said incredulously. "I assure you I can cook the arse off any eatery within a twenty mile radius!"
"Yes, love, I know, but wouldn't it be nice to be waited upon, just for once. You're the Queen-"
"I am not," Elena rebutted, firmly.
'Oh, take your thumb out of your arse, girl. Your totally smitten girlfriend wants to treat you, so let her,' the Queen said waspishly, and Elena jumped. It was the not the first time the Queen had spoken to her conscious mind, but it was still a bit of a shock to have the internal voice sound so clear and distinct, so individual. The others looked at her curiously and she shook her head.
"Very well. Just as long as it's not Italian or Mexican or-"
"Why don't you let us decide ... darling," Alan finished diffidently. He blushed very deeply, it being the first time he had used any term of endearment for Elena.
Jess rushed to take his face in her hands and kiss him on the lips. "That is sooo sweeeet, Forrester!"
He pushed her away, mortified beyond words. "Oh fuck off, Calamar!"
Elena giggled, then stood and looked at him, really looked at him, right down into the root of him. "Come here ..." she murmured, holding out her hands.
He spiralled down into the deep wells of her clear grey eyes, at once majestic and intimate, a lover, a soulmate, a confidante. He stood, and walked to where she waited, all his vulnerabilities laid bare.
Elena felt the walls between herself, and the Queen become vanishingly thin. She took him to her. "I cannot be Queen without you."
Her father had flirted briefly with punk in the 1970s and one of his most treasured possessions was a copy of "Anarchy In The UK" When she was younger, he'd put it on the ancient turntable, and she would jump around to its ridiculous energy. In the immortal words of Johnny Rotten, "Don't know what I want but I know how to get it!"
Elena would never have said those words, but the Queen agreed wholeheartedly. She laced her hands round the back of Alan's neck and drew him in for a kiss. Her lips were warm and soft, and her tongue stole out to caress his. The Folk did not have much truck with organised religion but in that moment, he felt as if he stood in a very high place. The world was his for the asking.
Jess came to stand beside them and rested her hand between his shoulder blades. The power between them surged and jinked like lightning, the Folk reinforcing and elevating Elena's operancy, rendering the whole infinitely greater than the sum of its parts.
***
"Oh, Jesus!" moaned a sensitive. "Have they no idea how to conceal themselves?"
"I don't think they care about that anymore," whispered another, "it's totally awesome!"
The Trinity spoke to the deep seated need for consensus among the Folk. They appeared as revolutionaries promising a future unburdened by factions, a glorious destiny at the foot of the rainbow. The narrative acted to protect them, and even loyal sensitives lied to their superiors ...
***
Charlie's 9pm, 3 rd June
Their dinner destination turned out to be a ten minute walk deeper into the estate. There was a small avenue of shops serving basic needs, newsagent, off-licence, laundrette et al. All the glass of the shop fronts was covered with wire netting which in turn was padlocked to the frames. Even at this time of the night they were all plying a brisk trade with groups of people dotting the pavement outside in the last of the light from the setting sun.
Occasionally Elena attracted odd looks from passers-by, and it was conceivable that the fifteen year gap between awkward child and the grown woman could be bridged by some, so her partners gently suppressed their curiosity.
The air was cool, the people were dressed in puffer jackets, but the general humour was good. Elena blinked, the mismatch between this and her childhood memories was stark.
Under a sign with gold lettering proclaiming "Charlie's Curry House" the windows ran with condensation. They looked at each other.
"Why this place?" Elena asked.
"One of those lads from this afternoon said it's the business," Jess answered.
"Did he give you that answer voluntarily?" Alan asked.
"Sure. Once he didn't think I was going to rip his head off. "
"Leave the diplomacy to me in future, Calamar."
"Yeah, but it's me they're scared of!"
Elena lifted her nose and sniffed. The smell drifting through the air gave her a good feeling. Inside, the restaurant was doing a brisk trade and the patrons were a good mixture of ages and ethnicities, which was always a plus in her opinion. She looked around at the Formica topped tables covered with sheets of cheap red paper. It was like stepping back in time.
"Can I help you?" asked a small girl in a yellow dress, her shiny black hair tied in a ponytail with a blue ribbon.
"They're starting them young these days," remarked Alan as the three of them inspected her.
Elena smiled and hunkered down so that she was looking up at her. Some of the Queen's good humour wafted over their hostess and a huge smile of brilliant white teeth appeared.
"Table for three, please," Elena said politely.
The girl shook herself and grabbed Elena's hand. "This way!"
The trio were led, near dragged, to a small back room that was otherwise deserted.
"It gets really noisy in the other room. This is much nicer. I'll get you some menus!" With that she was gone. Moments later she was back with a jug of water and some glasses, the paper menus tucked under her arm. She set things on the table and stood looking at the three of them expectantly.
"Are you actors? I like your hair!"
The trio burst into laughter.
"What's your name?" Jess asked.
"Gita."
"Well, Gita, your hair is lovely too, and your dress is very pretty. Can you get us three Cobras while we're making up our minds?"
Another flash of white teeth and Gita trotted off to the main room. Elena watched her go and sighed. "I wasn't much older when I left this place. It seems like a million years ago."
Alan snorted. "Last week feels like a million years ago."
The ordinariness of their setting triggered something in Elena. She leaned forward and put her elbows on the table, cradling her chin in her hands.
"I just don't understand. I met Jess less than a year ago. I met you for the first time, Alan, less than a month ago. Jess is the Sword, you are the Shadow, what am I? Physicist, grocery assistant ... Queen? Everything just keeps happening faster and faster. I-" she struggled to express herself, "I now no longer know what to think! This is a deranged modern fairy tale with the potential for terrible destruction. I can feel Her, I know what She's capable of. And I know that She is me, which means that I, I am capable of this! I didn't ask for any of it, I just wanted a normal life!"
From somewhere deep in her mind came the faintest whisper, 'From time to time those present, whether ordinary or extraordinary, must step up to the plate. Destiny does not care whether they wish to, merely that they must.'
Jess shook her head. "I was really worried about the Sword. I could see how Alan would fit with the Shadow, but I couldn't imagine myself as any kind of warrior. After this afternoon it all makes a weird kind of sense. I would do anything to protect you, both of you. And I can!" she said, delightedly.
Elena realised that Jess had always lacked confidence in her physical abilities beyond her beauty and her paranormal powers. Now she had a string to her bow that would be hard for anyone to match. She was not merely good; she was the best!
Alan grunted. "Mm, fitting with the Shadow? I had the heebies and the jeebies when I allowed him to take control yesterday but the whole acting thing is just brilliant. You were right when you said it was better if we were willing, and we are, as long as it's on our terms. I mean, me and Jess seem to have reached some sort of accommodation."
Jess giggled. "Accommodation? I love the Sword!"
Privately, Elena worried about what the manifestation of the Sword meant in physical terms and the Shadow's theories about a price to be paid.
"Which just leaves me and Madge."
'Madge?' said an incredulous voice inside her head. Elena grinned to herself.
"But let's just enjoy this evening. This was a great idea by the way."
Alan and Jess beamed at her.
***
Ahmed Patel, the pseudo-eponymous Charlie of the establishment felt the Queen's presence as a mark of respect. "Give them space, the best service!" he muttered as he issued instructions to the staff. "Gita! You seem to have her ear. You must serve them!"
"Yes, Pitah," the little girl responded, delighted at this confidence in her.
She scuttled through to the back room, shooing away curious patrons. "Are you ready to order?"
Three faces turned approving looks upon her and she thought she might melt. Instead she stood more upright and clasped her notepad and pen to her chest.
"Tell your father, we will eat whatever he thinks we should have," Elena said.
Gita's eyes widened and she scurried back to relay Elena's request to her father. His eyebrows climbed.
"This is what they said?"
"It is what she said, Pitah."
He stood for a moment then nodded shortly and clapped his hands. A challenge! "Very well. Let's get to work!"
In what later became a feast of legend, the trio were treated to dishes of the highest quality. Not least because the staff swore that half of the ingredients were not in the store, and some of the dishes were not only not on the menu, but which the cooks had never previously made.
Above it all, Gita orchestrated a dance of culinary excellence with remarkable poise.
Elena's pleasure in the variety and quality of the food bled through to the Queen and inadvertently manifested as a glow of approval that enveloped the restaurant. Long after, many of the patrons related the story of a night of food and drink, laughter and conversation, at once magical and golden in the memory.
Three hours later as the witching hour approached, the restaurant grown quiet as the last patrons left, Elena threw her napkin at the table.
"This was a most excellent idea my darlings. I don't think I've ever had better."
Still in attendance, as if wild horses could have dragged her away, Gita waited on them.
"Still here, little one?" Jess said with a smile. "Isn't it past your bedtime?"
Gita simply stared at her with big eyes and Jess stepped away from the table. The katanas shimmered into existence behind her shoulders, and she hunkered down on one knee. She reached out and took the young girl's hand.
"You can be whatever you want to be. Never forget that."
Many years later Gita became the ruler of her own Michelin starred establishment. But the evening when a pink haired warrior princess knelt in front of her and brushed her with destiny's wings was never far from her thoughts.
***
As they rolled home in the dark, pleasantly fuzzy, pleasantly stuffed, Jess and Alan's arms linked through hers, Elena looked up into the night sky. Up there, invisible to the naked eye, were galaxies with z>5. And down here were people who loved her.
"I could get used to this."
The others said nothing because nothing needed saying. In this the narrative had no part.
***
The safe house 8am, 4 th June
Waking from a blessedly uneventful sleep the next morning, Elena found herself looking into Jess' face. Her gaze wandered over the details of her lips, the long pink lashes to her eyes, the feathering of fine hair on her brow. Not for the first time and most certainly not for the last, she dwelled on Jess' perfection.
Elena could tell from the muted aura that her lover was still asleep. Next door, Alan was awake but engrossed in something. She smiled to herself; she was starting to become accustomed to the insights that her new abilities gave her.
However, if Alan hadn't been so preoccupied, he might have realised that there was more than a little heat between her legs. His loss. The soon-to-be beneficiary was much nearer, pink hair awry on the pillow, making the little half snores that Elena treasured.
Carefully she eased up the hem of the baggy tee shirt to reveal Jess' plump nipples atop her full firm breasts. Her mouth watered and she bent her head to gently roll one with her tongue. Jess mumbled something in her sleep but did not wake up, so Elena went further, boldly taking the bud between her lips and sucking gently. Now Jess sighed and Elena could feel her aura brightening and colouring with pleasure.
