Woman King

CHAPTER 12

That night I slept deeply and did not stir from my bed for ten hours. I woke up feeling stiff, but otherwise remarkably well, considering my discovery that I shared my city with fairies, demons and vampires. At dinner, Lily had also briefed me on witches, who seemingly find San Francisco especially welcoming to their lifestyle. We are not alone, it turns out. We are all actually walking side-by-side on Valencia Street, although most of us have no idea. Few people realize they are stuffed into the N-Judah streetcar during commute hours with the undead.

What was I to do with this newfound knowledge? Was I supposed to return to my old life, knowing there were two worlds living side-by-side in San Francisco? I was prepared to let those questions percolate at the back of my mind as I got on with my day, but magic, it seemed, was in the air. No sooner had I turned on the Giants game on television, that I noticed that one of the pitchers was a vampire. With his long black hair and pale skin, this starting pitcher had always caught people’s attention. It was rare, I realized, that he ever pitched a day game, and now I knew why.

Sure enough, as the sun began to retreat from the plate and the shadows grew longer, his pitches gained in velocity. In the ninth inning, he was relieved and as I stared into the bullpen, I noticed one or two other members of the team were also Others. A vampire and a demon playing for a major league baseball team. It seemed the world I knew was really gone forever.

Elsa had left the house earlier in the day, and did not return until almost dusk. Normally a woman of few words, she had not been in the house ten minutes when she suggested we go out for dinner. “I was thinking The Moss Room,” she said.

“The Moss Room,” I repeated. “That place is kind of pricey and it can be hard to get a table.”

“Actually, we’ve been invited to dinner,” Elsa said, a bright smile on her face. “The director of the Council, Gabriel Laurent, has invited us to join him.”

“What’s the catch?” I asked. “First he tries to blind me, and now he wants to wine and dine me?”

“No catch,” Elsa said. “He wants to meet you and, if there is time, discuss a job. I think we should go. Your old job is going to seem quite boring now, anyway.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” I said, feeling slightly bullied.

“It’s just dinner,” Elsa said lightly, but I could sense some uneasiness. She needed me to go to this dinner.

“OK,” I said. “What time are we meeting him?”

Elsa looked relieved. “One hour.”

“Great. I will go upstairs and change.”

The Moss Room is named after the moss that grows on one of the subterranean walls of the restaurant. Tucked underground, below the California Academy of Sciences, guests dine inside a snug room adorned on one side with moss and trickling water, and on the other, brick and glass. It is designed as a terrarium for the culinary set, and guests must descend a long glass stairway that terminates at the broad elbow of a majestic wooden bar to enter the dining room. As we came to the last step, a man seated at the bar turned to face us. Instinctively, I knew this was Gabriel Laurent. Impeccably dressed in a gray cashmere sweater, jeans and a black sport coat, he was the picture of casual French elegance.

“Hello, Elsa,” he said, revealing his accent. “This must be Olivia.”

“Hello,” I said, turning to face him, resisting the urge to show off and parler. Eventually, he would come to know that I was fluent. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, monsieur.”

Gabriel stared at me for a moment, but did not speak. He was glowing with a deep blue aura that sparkled like a sapphire.

“You’re so blue,” I blurted out, before I could stop myself.

I could sense his pleasure at my remark, but like Elsa, he too held something back.

“I can see what they say is true,” he said. “You are quite adept…I am anxious to discuss your gifts in greater detail. Alors…Let me tell the hostess we are ready. I have reserved a private room.”

His last word came out as “Oh-stess,” spurring me on to speak in his native language. “Comment allez-vous?”

Gabriel turned around and smiled. “Bien, merci. Vous parlez très bien, mademoiselle.”

“Thank you. I’ve studied French for many years,” I replied. “It was a sort of requirement with my mother.”

Once again, he stifled some emotion, but I felt a drop. It was curiosity.

“You must tell me about your mother, eh, your family sometime,” Gabriel said, as a hostess led us to our private quarters. “I am curious to know about your background. There are not many humans with the kind of powers you seem to have.”

The private room, it turned out, was a clear box off the main dining area. The small glass-walled salon was soundproof, but transparent to the rest of the diners. It made for interesting theater. We could see everyone as they came and went through the dining room, and they could see us, but they could not hear a word we uttered. I didn’t think this was a coincidence at all.

Almost immediately after being seated I began to feel nervous. It took a few moments to realize that the emotions were not my own. Thanks to my training, however preliminary, I knew the difference between my feelings and those of others. They feel too sudden—the emotions—when they belong to someone else. The question now was which one of them was nervous, and why?

Gabriel ordered a bottle of wine and asked that it be decanted as we looked at the menu. Once the wine had been arranged and we’d been sitting for a few moments, Gabriel spoke again.

“You’ve had quite an eye-opening experience in the last few weeks, Olivia,” he said, rotating his wine glass gently between his fingers. “For most of us, the knowledge that the universe is divided between two worlds is introduced gradually by our peers as we grow older. You have had to absorb the entirety of the situation quickly. Do you know why your parents never told you the truth?”

Interesting. Elsa, it seemed, had not told Gabriel about my mother. “I’m afraid you can’t blame my family,” I said. “The blame, if it must be assigned, is all mine. My mother and grandmother did try to educate me, but I refused.”

“Refused? I don’t understand.”

I snorted. “That seems to be a running theme these days. I didn’t want to use my skills. I’ve watched my mother nearly drink herself to death trying to avoid her feelings. She’s a brilliant landscape painter. Her artistic skill, combined with her gifts, has made her quite in demand, but it has never made her happy. She has been overwhelmed with her emotions, and everyone else’s for a long time.”

“And your father?”

“I don’t have one, at least that I know about,” I said, feeling a rush of anxiety. “My mother told me my father was a man she loved deeply, but could never marry. Beyond that, she has never said a word. I stopped asking after a while, knowing she would say nothing further.”

“She never married?”

“No,” I said. “She’s had a few boyfriends over the years, but she has never had a serious relationship with a man. She often said she’d been in love once and it was enough.”

“And your grand-père?”

“He’s dead. So is my grandmother. I have an uncle, but my mother and I are the last two of our immediate family. I have no siblings.”

That brought an odd look to Gabriel’s face. “I see,” he said, quickly recovering as he poured wine into our glasses. “And now that you have learned more about your skills?”

It was my turn to feel nervous. “I’m not sure. It’s remarkable to see people in well, in a different light, but I’m not certain how all of this will affect my life in the future.”

“Your honesty is refreshing,” Gabriel said. “Most humans would be eager to find a way to use their skills to their advantage. To make money, or gain power.”

“Are you human?” I asked, knowing I was being too forward with the Frenchman.

“It’s a good question, Olivia. One I will answer in time.”

“Why does everything always take time?” I was losing my patience.

“Because when you step out of the human plane, you can see that time is infinite,” Gabriel said. “The world is an old place and history is repeated every minute, every second, that humans spend on the planet…in the tiny gestures and major decisions they make every day.”

“Those who fail to understand are doomed to repeat…?”

Gabriel nodded. “Exactly. When you are in the stream of time, it is difficult to see all sides to an issue. One advantage the Others have is the gift of perspective. When you have lived a century, you can step back and examine issues differently. War, religious intolerance and famine, they all take on a different significance decades later. But as a human, you are bound by the moment.”

I looked over at Elsa, who had remained silent during the discussion. “Do you see humans as such frail creatures?”

She nodded. “Not frail, but blind. They don’t make decisions for the long-term, only for what feels good in the moment.”

“This is fascinating, but what does it have to do with me? I’m not sure how I fit into this discussion. I am human, living in this time, mortal and destined for dust one day. Not long ago, I had a successful business and a nice house with a garden. But now…”

We paused as our meals were brought in. Once we had taken a few bites, Gabriel spoke again.

“You want to know what comes next. It’s a good question. You wonder if you can continue doing things the same way, knowing what you know now? The answer is yes and no.”

Gabriel turned to Elsa. “Does she know about the work of the Council?”

Elsa shook her head. “No. I was waiting for you to tell her.”

“Are you familiar with the United Nations, Olivia?”

“Yes, why?”

“You know that their mission is to promote peace and stability among nations.”

“Well, their success is debatable, but yes, I’m familiar with their mission.”

Gabriel responded with a grim smile. “As you said, their success is mixed. Why? The governments of the world, in my opinion, are no match for religious intolerance, xenophobia and renegade dictators. Millions of dollars are spent globally, and where are we? Half the world’s female population remains uneducated; old wives’ tales and superstition still reign. Do you know a person can still be accused of being a witch and stoned to death in some parts of the world?”

This remark caused Elsa to involuntarily flinch. “Have you been hunted?” I asked her.

Elsa nodded. “Small villages are breeding grounds for that kind of hysteria.”

Gabriel continued. “Even here in your country, religious zealots would like to dictate who you can marry.”

I nodded. “Don’t forget banning abortions for women,” I added.

Gabriel leaned forward to continue. “Can you imagine how dangerous it would be if the religious extremists were able to take the reins of your government?

“Can you imagine if the president of the United States were a religious fanatic, or perhaps, the men and women in your Congress were?”

“Some days it seems as if that is already happening.”

Gabriel glanced at Elsa and I could feel their anticipation as they finally came to the point.

“It could be much worse. Many of us have lived through the days of witch-hunts and Inquisitions. We know the damage one ambitious official can cause when he sows superstition and distrust among the disenfranchised.”

“I can’t imagine the United States ever being that provincial,” I said, feeling a little overwhelmed by their comments. “After all, we were founded to avoid the rule of one man or woman.”

Gabriel reached at his side for a small canvas satchel. He unzipped the khaki colored bag and pulled out a few copies of newspaper articles.

“I assembled these in preparation for our meeting,” Gabriel said, as he slid the papers toward me.

“Evangelical Voters Courted in Presidential Bid,” read one headline.

Another said, “Civics Education Called A National Crisis.”

“Your country is intent on electing people who believe in a “God-endowed” policy to control the courts, education,” Elsa said. “If they should achieve a majority, it could be disastrous.”

“And the remaining population cannot name members of the Supreme Court or the first seven presidents,” Gabriel added. “You see, we are forever at a tipping point, where intervention is necessary.”

“Intervention?” I asked, once again feeling alarmed. I had the feeling I was being recruited into some kind of battle. “What do you mean?”

Finally I was able to connect the nervousness I’d been feeling all evening with its owners. Both of them shared the anxiety equally, but it was Gabriel who spoke first.

“I’m the leader of an organization designed to help with these matters globally. This intervention I spoke of, the Council, is an organization devoted to maintaining stable governments across the globe,” Gabriel said. He paused to order a second bottle of wine.

“Do you know the story of The Watchers from the Bible, from the Old Testament? It is the story of a group of angels sent by God to live on the earth and help humans.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not all that familiar with the Bible.”

“I see. Well, we are like them. The world is full of magical beings—Others—as we refer to them. We, they, do not want to be visible to the outside world, hunted for religious reasons or perhaps exploited for financial gain or political power. For decades we have lived among humans and co-existed. The equation is simple: The more educated and stable the population, the more insulated Others are from harm and persecution.”

“How does it work?” I asked. “Do you have an army, is there fighting?”

Gabriel waved his hands emphatically to dismiss the comments. “Olivia, I am not asking you to fight in a war, or join an army. Here in the U.S. and in Europe, we work the same way as others do: We use the political process. We work to ensure stable, moderate people are elected to every level of government.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to do what you do now and run a campaign,” Gabriel said, smiling. “But also to use your new-found skills to help increase the odds of success.”

“Increase the odds?”

“Yes, of course,” he said. “It’s much easier to win an election when you know what voters are thinking ahead of time. You can help a candidate correct his messages in a matter of seconds. You can sit in a room with a journalist and sense their intentions before they even begin an interview. It all makes for much better odds.”

“Why should I do this for you? I can go back to running my company.”

Gabriel nodded. “True, but you never can tell your clients or colleagues about your talents. Who will believe that you can see someone’s aura, or read his or her emotions? If your competitors come to believe that, they will try to get you fired or disqualified. Who will you share your gift with? Who will you ask for advice? Elsa can’t stay with you forever, she must return to her work.

“I’ve seen your record,” he continued. “You’re a talented consultant. Surely you must see the value of using your skills to help make a difference? You can shape the future, help ensure zealots don’t run governments.”

I set aside his pitch to help save the world for the moment. It was difficult to imagine my contributions amounting to that much, but his other remarks hit home. I couldn’t share my secret with other humans. They would think I was crazy. Then again, maybe I didn’t have to; maybe I could enjoy my new skills in private.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Gabriel said. “That you can keep it all a secret and continue on with your life.”

I nodded. “Why not? No one has to know.”

“True. But don’t you think you would be living a half-life, Olivia? You have been given the rare opportunity to see what is behind the wizard’s curtain. In your case, there is real magic to be found, not some cheap parlor trick.”

“Maybe, but I never asked for these gifts,” I said. “All I’ve ever wanted was to live my life in peace.”

“Mon dieu! Who doesn’t?” Gabriel said, offering a sympathetic smile. “But that is not always what fate has in store.”