Woman King (11 page)

Elsa shook her head. “He’s not there.
Tomorrow we’ll go. The Council convenes after dusk,” she said. “It
must be dark when we approach their offices. If it’s foggy, we can
use a portal. If it’s not, then we use the main entrance.”

“What does fog have to do with it?”

“Come into the living room and sit down,
Olivia. If you’re going to work for the Council, then I might as
well begin your education.” Elsa walked toward the couch. “Once you
cross the threshold of their doors, there will be no turning back.
You will be privy to some of the world’s greatest secrets.”

“You make it sound dangerous. What happens if
I change my mind?”

“That’s exactly my point; you can’t change
your mind. Once you’ve been exposed to the Council, you are bound
by its rules. It is a serious commitment. I know, I have been
working for them for many years.”

“How did you get started?”

Elsa began to rearrange the pillows on the
couch, avoiding my gaze. “I told you the story of how I almost gave
my soul to the devil,” she said. “But I never told you what
happened when I was released.”

I nodded. “What happened?”

“After the devil told me I was free to leave,
I ran to the stable to get my horse. As I was adjusting my saddle—I
planned to ride through the night to get off the mountain—the angel
who bargained for me came into the stable. I asked him to tell me
how he had won the argument with the devil, but he would not reveal
their conversation.”

“That’s it? He never told you?” I asked.

“He did not, but he did tell me that there
would be a price for my foolishness.”

“A price?”

Elsa nodded. “Yes. He told me that to repay
my rescue from the devil, I would have to pledge myself to helping
others for an undetermined period of time. I have been a
time-walker, moving through the centuries, helping humans and
Others, since then.”

“How long do you have to do this?”

Elsa sighed. “For as long as it takes. It’s
been hundreds of years and I have yet to see the angel again. When
he reappears I will know my payment has been made.”

“Well that doesn’t seem fair,” I said.
“You’ve been at this for a long time.”

“Yes, but to ask God to save your soul from
the devil when you almost willingly gave it away…well, who knows
what had to be promised to free me.”

I watched Elsa closely. She was beautiful to
look at. Sleek and powerful like the cat that appeared in my
dreams. Her punishment not only had made her immortal, but it also
had frozen her in time. She was not aging. Perhaps when she
finished her penance, she would be allowed to grow old.

“Is that how you came to work for the
Council?”

Elsa nodded. “I discovered them during my
travels. I had no idea how to repair the damage I’d done. It made
sense to work for them. They gave me a way to have a purpose and
fulfill my obligation.”

“Are there others like you inside?”

“If you mean people who travel through time,
yes there are. But are there others doing penance? Not that I know
of. Yet I can’t imagine I am the only person on earth who almost
gave their soul away to the devil in the pursuit of power and
knowledge.”

Elsa’s tale reminded me of Stoner Halbert. We
all, it seems, have to make our own beds. How did a rising star in
politics come to call for the devil? I tried to imagine that much
burning hatred or shame; a feeling of despair powerful enough to
bypass God and ask for help from the dark side. I couldn’t imagine
ever wanting that kind of revenge or power.

“Is that what Stoner Halbert has done? Given
his soul to the devil? What will happen to him?”

Elsa shrugged. “It’s hard to know when these
things catch up with you. It can take years for evil to be
rebuffed, or it can be immediate. The circumstances are never the
same.”

“What happens if I decide that I don’t want
to do this?” I asked, the proposition of my “new life” suddenly
weighing more heavily on me

Elsa rose from the couch and began to pace.
“I don’t know what would happen. No human has ever been allowed to
work for the organization. Once you join the Council, it’s hard to
turn your back. I can’t make the choice for you, but I strongly
encourage you to take Gabriel’s offer. This is your destiny.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Elsa hesitated and I experienced a brief
sensation of nervousness again.

“Come on, Elsa, tell me what you know.”

Then it was gone; she was good at hiding her
feelings from empaths like me.

“I’m sure because I have been doing this for
a long time, Olivia. Your gifts deserve to be used for greater
purposes than building condominiums.”

Elsa’s words stung a bit. I’d never set out
to change the world, but she made my career seem insignificant. We
get up, we go to work, we do a good job and we come home. Why does
life have to be more complicated than that? And yet, it is. I now
had the ability to read people and sense their emotions. I was
either going to Las Vegas to make my fortune, or I needed a place
to use my skills where I wouldn’t frighten people.

“Text Gabriel,” I said finally. “I will join
the Council.”

****

The next evening as we left my house for the
park, we stepped into a dense wall of wet fog. The humid mist on my
face jogged my memory.

“I forgot to ask you last night about the
fog,” I said, as we pulled our collars up around our necks.

San Francisco’s fog is legendary. Summer in
San Francisco means never seeing the sun, at least in my
neighborhood. Sometimes the fog rolls in gently, bringing a quiet,
sultry climate to the city. Other nights, the fog rides the heels
of a wicked wind that bends trees and howls through the narrow
alleys between the row houses.

“The fog is a tool of the Council’s,” Elsa
said as we walked. “San Francisco is enchanted; a coven of witches
created a spell to summon the fog in order to protect our kind from
prying eyes. When the fog is present, its easier for the Council to
operate and for magical creatures to move about the city.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” she said. “It’s the perfect
device for maintaining a curtain between our worlds. It can be
summoned at any time, especially if the Council has called a
general meeting at its headquarters.”

What Elsa said made sense. Things that look
odd in the shadows are probably easily explained away to humans.
The fog obscures light. It muffles sound. I remembered my
peyote-induced trek through Golden Gate Park, and how foggy that
evening had been. Perfect for hiding a half-dressed woman running
toward the sea.

“Huh, it’s a brand new world,” I said, only
half-aware of how true my words were.

Before I knew it we were standing at the foot
of the Music Concourse, gazing up at the tower of the de Young
Museum. By day, it’s the fifth-most visited museum in the country.
By night, it is the headquarters of the Council. We looked across
the plaza at the building sheathed in copper, gleaming in the
evening light. According to Elsa, the fog was not quite thick
enough to use the portal so we walked to the side of the museum,
passing Pan’s Island and lily pond, where I’d spent the night. We
continued to walk, bypassing the normal side entrance reserved for
museum members. Instead we made our way along a sidewalk partially
obscured by ferns. Almost immediately we were facing what looked to
be a solid wall of copper. Elsa placed her hand on the door. The
area beneath her palm began to glow.

“Fingerprint recognition,” Elsa explained
matter-of-factly, as the outline of a door appeared, then clicked
open slightly to let us pass. Once inside, Elsa turned left toward
a bank of elevators. “We’re going to the top of the tower,” she
said, as she pressed the button on the wall.

I scanned the surroundings as we entered; the
museum’s lobby looked exactly the same as it did in the daylight.
The elevator, which was taking us up twelve floors to the
observation tower, also looked the same. I wondered whether the
museum’s iconic top-floor viewing deck would also be unchanged. I
was, I realized, slightly disappointed. I’m not sure what I
expected. Maybe I’d watched too many Star Trek episodes, but in my
mind I had conjured up a different world. I’d imagined a series of
rooms with glowing flat panel screens featuring rotating,
three-dimensional orbs that depicted far-away destinations and
tactical information.

When we arrived at the top of the tower,
however, my imagination was rewarded by the sight of a room full of
several flat screens mounted to the walls. A dozen men and women
were seated at desks, hunched over laptops and iPads, their mobile
phones within arm’s reach. At first glance, it could be an office
anywhere in the world. Except it wasn’t.

I looked up to see Gabriel walking across the
room toward us.

“
Bonsoir
, Elsa, Olivia,” he said as he
grasped my hand to shake it.

“It looks so normal,” I said, gesturing at
the scene before me.

Gabriel nodded. “Modern technology almost
makes witchcraft unnecessary at times. We can track people and
issues far easier than our predecessors.”

“How is this possible? Do you pack up at the
end of every evening?” I asked.

Gabriel smiled. “There is not much to put
away, and what is on the walls is enchanted. Humans cannot see the
panels as they stroll through the deck during the day. The rest is
portable. Thanks to wireless technology, our offices transport
easily and, for the most part, are paperless.”

“Is the museum aware of your presence?” I
asked, imagining rumors floating through the city about the de
Young’s haunted galleries. “What happens when people here work
late?”

Elsa and Gabriel exchanged a knowing glance.
This is where they begin to bind you with their secrets, I thought
to myself, the way they fold you in.

“They know,” Elsa said. “The museum knows we
are here.”

“It’s true,” Gabriel said, seeing my raised
eyebrows. “The museum spent a fortune to build this magnificent
copper building. Copper, as you may know, is an ancient metal
dating back to the Romans. It is a very important metal in the
supernatural world. You are standing inside a building that has the
ability to conduct energy back and forth between individuals and
the spirit world. It acts as an amplifier for our thoughts, for
sending and receiving psychic communications. Can you imagine? No
better building could be constructed for our purposes.”

“When we learned of the plans to build the
museum, we contacted their executive director,” Gabriel continued,
“Although human, she is quite the diva and has a reputation as a
bit of a sorceress herself. She was only too happy to accommodate
our request in exchange for a sizable donation.”

I nodded. “It all makes frighteningly good
sense.”

“But,” Gabriel said, his head cocked to one
side. “There is something on your mind.”

“It’s nothing. I’m amazed at the
business-like way in which this all operates. You have a
state-of-the art building, wireless technology. It all seems,
well…routine.”

“Did you expect us to fly around on
broomsticks and play quidditch?” Elsa asked sharply. “That is a
children’s fantasy.”

“What Elsa means,” Gabriel interjected
diplomatically, “Is that we’ve adopted today’s standards like the
rest of the world. We cannot survive if we fail to adapt to our
surroundings. But I will take credit for the business-like way in
which things run. In my other life, I’m the CEO of a computer
graphics firm that makes 3-D images for movies. Our offices are
near Marseille. I started my career in the mid 70’s at Industrial
Light and Magic in Marin.”

Before I could think too much about what he’d
said, Gabriel grabbed my arm and led me away.

“It’s time for your grand tour,” he said.

Elsa said she would stay behind in the main
arena, as it was called, and monitor things.

Although I remained wary, there was something
very comfortable and familiar about Gabriel. I found myself easily
being led by him, and before I knew it, we were back in the
elevator. We went down one floor and stepped out into what looked
like ordinary office space filled with cubicles—complete with more
young workers seated, heads down at their desks.

“We use most floors of this tower,” he said,
gesturing toward the desks. “A director and one deputy manage the
Council. Our positions rotate every five years. You’ll meet my
deputy, Aidan Burke, in a few minutes; he keeps his office on the
floor below. A crafty Irish shape-shifter, he and I have been
friends for years. We’re in the fourth year of our term; next year
the deputies for central and eastern Europe will take control.”

“You’re not very excited about that,” I
remarked, feeling a deep sense of ambivalence coming from him.

“Very good, Olivia,” he said. “Your skills
are becoming second nature to you. But to answer your question,
yes, I have reservations. Zoran Mikić is a werewolf. By day, he is
the governor of the Croatian National Bank. His deputy, Nikola
Pajovic, is a vampire, as well as a wealthy Serbian developer who
builds casinos on the Adriatic coast. They have a unique
partnership, with Nikola acting as more of the leader. I worry, at
times, about their commitment to the mission of the Council.”

I could almost say the same thing, feeling at
a loss myself to understand what the Council’s purpose was. Why did
it need deputies and rotating staffs to monitor humans?

“Gabriel, I hope you don’t mind my asking,
but why is all of this necessary? What exactly is it that you,
we
, do?”

Gabriel nodded. “Yes. Let me explain. As I
mentioned, the Council is divided by region, with directors holding
positions for North America and Canada, Mexico, Central and South
America, western Europe, eastern Europe, Asia, and finally, Africa
and the Middle East. Each sector monitors elections and shifts in
government. We try, when possible, to intervene in elections to
ensure moderate candidates take seats in government.