I can do this, she told herself. I’m stronger than I think. If nothing else, this gets it over with fast — like tearing off a bandage.
She had no idea how you greet the leader of your race on a foreign planet.
Maynard surprised her with a low, sweeping bow. “I am Derek Maynard, director of the Elfhome Interdimensional Agency. I take it that you are Forest Moss’s new domi and they’re with you.”
He started in Elvish but the last sentence — much to her joy — was in English. It was so much harder to waltz around verbal traps in Elvish. By “they” he meant the royal marines, who were standing at attention in a line behind her.
“Yes, they are. I’m Olivia—” She caught herself before giving the rest. Her maiden name would be a lie but she wanted to abandon her husband’s surname forever. “Prince True Flame recommended that I use the name Olive Branch over Stone.”
Derek Maynard nodded slowly, giving her a slow once-over, probably trying to determine what kind of person he’d just been saddled with. “You’re from Boston, aren’t you?”
“How…how…how do you know?”
“You still have the accent. Not a lot; you probably moved away from it a few years ago, but the nasal short-A is still there. Strong enough that I’m guessing you’re a Southie.”
She blushed. Her mother had tried hard to erase the Southie accent but Olivia had clung to it, the only thing she had left of the family that she had been stolen away from. “Yes. I grew up in South Boston.”
“So, you’re not local,” Maynard said.
He couldn’t send her back to her husband. He couldn’t send her back to Earth. Still, it was frightening to admit the truth. “I’m not.”
He considered her in silence for so long that she found it nerve-racking. She could hear Dagger badgering Aiofe into translating for the marines. The girl seemed torn between reporting what her boss was saying and maintaining trust with her research subjects.
“What brings you here?” Maynard finally broke the silence. “Are you looking for me or have you lost someone?”
He gestured to the tent to imply the dead.
“Lost someone.” Olivia wet her suddenly dry mouth. If the Wyverns were a big club to wield on the elves, then Tinker domi was the one to use on humans. “I spoke with Tinker domi this morning. She encouraged me to use my position for the good of others. I’ve learned that some people — some humans — have fallen through the cracks, much like the Stone Clan children had. I’m attempting to track them down. Make sure that they’re safe.”
Maynard frowned. “I didn’t realize you were so young, but there’s not much I can do. The dau mark makes you domana elf of the Stone Clan. I can offer you advice and limited assistance, but for the sake of all the humans within my care, I do not dare do much more than that — at least not until I know Sunder better.”
“Why?” Olivia asked. The royal marines had told her the names of the incoming Stone Clan warlords but they knew little more than that. She wasn’t sure if it was because they had been denied a decent education, or if they were indifferent to the history of other clans, or a combination of the two.
“I have known the Viceroy half my life and consider him a good friend, and yet he would not want me to overtly influence his domi. He would want me to protect her, yes, and offer sage advice, but I could not block her from any course of action that she chose. If she decided to borrow my construction vehicles to raze an entire hillside outside the city to build windmills, then I could do nothing but smooth any feathers that she ruffled among the humans. I know that because that is how he would expect me to react to his doing the same. I must see her the same as I see him; that is the nature of their union.”
It would explain the instant obedience of everyone at the Poppymeadows enclave. It also explained why people kept warning Olivia that she didn’t have the same level of power as Tinker domi. Windwolf was the Viceroy and head of the Wind Clan, which outnumbered the Stone Clan by a thousand to one.
Maynard continued his explanation. “Sunder is the current head of the Stone Clan here in Pittsburgh. It means that both you and Forest Moss are under Sunder’s domain. If Windwolf would not allow me to influence his domi, I have to assume that Sunder will allow even less freedom.”
She nodded her understanding. The elder at the Ranch had an entire list of things that were forbidden, from phones to the internet to children’s literature. She had packed up her favorite books in Boston only to watch the elders burn them all as too dangerous when she arrived at the Ranch. What was so dangerous about The Wind in the Willows? That “the other” was not to be feared? That vastly different people could be friends?
Maynard eyed the royal marines, who were still standing at attention because of Maynard’s own guard. His mouth quirked slightly, as if he could see them as the puppies that they were. “You should know that these warriors would die to protect you. I urge you not to take any undue risk that would put them in harm’s way. They could be considered children, high school age, and certainly they know nothing about human technology. Nothing about cars and trucks. Nothing about security cameras or phones and radios. Nothing about landmines or grenades. If they were to die while under your command, it would reflect badly on you. If your actions are judged to be pure stupidity and recklessness, the Wyvern will behead you. It’s your responsibility to keep them safe. Do you understand that?”
“Yes,” Olivia said despite the sudden lump in her throat.
“I’ve been told you’re at Phipps Conservatory. Yes, it affords you access to the greenhouses, but I would strongly recommend you find a fallback location that is easier to defend.” He fished a business card out of his suit’s breast pocket. “This is my direct number. Do you have a phone?”
“No,” she whispered. Every normal teenage girl had one on Earth. At the Ranch, though, only the men were allowed to own them. Since she’d had limited funds during her escape, she’d chosen not to purchase one before crossing the border. To her dismay, she’d discovered that cell phones were rare as hen’s teeth on Elfhome.
He waved over one of his guards. “Find her a phone. Make sure it comes with a charger.” The guard nodded and trotted away. “My guard will deliver a phone to you shortly. Keep it charged and keep it close. Call me if you need help or advice. Tinker domi had an advantage that you do not: she is a local. She knows Pittsburgh and she has a wide social network of friends. You should do whatever you can to build a network.”
Which was the exact opposite of what she had done since she arrived in Pittsburgh, keeping almost everyone at arm’s length. No one even knew her real name. Only the elves knew that she was pregnant. She had told no one of her abusive husband or the story of her dead stepson.
Maynard turned to Aiofe. “You work with my patrol squads as a translator? You’re the Pitt anthology grad student intern?”
Aiofe nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“You have a new job. Stay with her. Explain elf culture as you know it and act as a bridge when she needs to interact with city officials. I’m assuming that she will run afoul of them as often as Tinker domi does.” He produced a second business card to give to Aiofe. “Call me if anyone picks a fight with her.”
It would be more comforting to know that they had his backing if it didn’t come with the knowledge that he expected them to need it.