Page 11

Still, it was only two buses and a short walk to the Mayan, the historic movie theater where he and Dautre held their secret meetings.

It was one of those places where he had to make certain he hadn’t wandered into the spirit realm. The decor was supposed to look like something from ancient Mexico, but the effect came across as kitschy and weird, nothing like the ruins he and Vic had seen on their trip to the ocean.

He winced at the memory, not because it was bad in any way, but because it had been perfect. He wanted to recapture that. He wanted to lie behind a sand dune and not flinch at Vic’s touch. He clenched his fists, felt the scars along his arms tighten, and forced himself to relax as he bought a ticket for the matinee, an old black-and-white film playing in one of the smaller upstairs theaters. The original balcony had been walled off and divided so the place could call itself a triplex.

Adam climbed the stairs and wasn’t surprised to find himself alone. This felt like another piece of old Denver, the city Vic had grown up in, the one that was vanishing as condos and apartments went up everywhere and chain restaurants encroached where the mom-and-pops closed down.

The film, Nightmare Alley, started. Adam sensed Dautre’s arrival. The elf was getting good at subtlety. He’d have slipped past most beings.

“Did everyone else make it?”

Dautre cocked his head to the side. Adam often forgot that the elf struggled with idioms and expressions.

“Sorry. I mean, did anyone else die?”

“No. They were very fortunate that you were there to intervene.”

“What if I’m the reason it attacked?”

“Because of your acquaintance with their plane of origin?”

“Yes.”

“It is possible,” Dautre admitted. “Like draws like.”

Adam nodded. It was one of the first and oldest rules in magic.

“Do you know what that thing was?”

Dautre’s face pinched. In the dark of the theater his features were almost gaunt, the lines of his angular face too sharp for Adam to consider them pretty.

“Like the boggins, as you named them, we’ve no record of it.”

“But you did capture some of the boggins. Did you learn anything from them?”

“Nothing conclusive or helpful. They don’t speak any language we know. We were able to study their biology before they expired.”

“You mean they died?”

“Yes, sadly. They simply dissolved. The working theory is that they cannot exist in the mortal or spirit realms. There is something about where they come from that sustains them.”

“What’s with all the euphemisms? Why can’t any of you call it by its name? They’re from the Between. Why don’t you just say that? Why did the knight insist it’s a myth?”

Dautre stiffened.

“Our relationship to that place is complex.” A little more of the movie played on before he continued. “Though I suspect it is because it is a hell, an elven hell.”

A little more time passed. A little more black-and-white drama played out before Adam prompted, “What does that have to do with it?”

“A hell is usually an afterlife, somewhere one goes when they die.”

“Oh, it implies that life can end?”

The elves didn’t like to talk about death. They didn’t even like to think about it. They could die, just not of old age. Most of them lived in Alfheimr, their home plane, an ivory tower paradise where change almost never came.

“Precisely. Is that not what causes fear in your religions, the threat of death?”

“I can’t speak for all of them, but my mom believes it’s either punishment or paradise. We know we’ll die, that’s part of being human. Most of us fear it, probably because we don’t know for certain what will happen after, if anything does happen.”