Where The Numinous Awaits

Ch. 8: Legend's Lies

August 15 | Night

I remained still as Dex stood up from her confrontational stance over Nixie and returned to the cool and calm demeanor I had seen her maintain for most of the day. The agent collected the untouched coffee mugs from the table and placed them in her kitchen sink. As she turned away, she said, "I suggest you settle in, Nixie. If you want to learn more about Overlay City, there are books in my library that can bring you up to speed."

When the princess didn't move, Dex looked at me, and I got up from the table. "Let's go," I said gruffly. I knew my role, despite the fact that the secret agent hadn't mentioned needing me to be her muscle when she offered me the job. Nixie glared at me with her glossy brown eyes, but she stood up, picked up her book, and followed me out of the kitchen.

I had suspected she wasn't meant for hardship from the moment I saw her at city hall. She had a fragility about her. It reminded me of the upper middle class girls I had grown up with, women who had been sheltered, for better or worse. After learning the startling truth about the Fontenot family, it was obvious that Nixie was cut from a different cloth. I had never been in the presence of a royal. It felt nerve-wracking and awe-inspiring at the same damn time.

Dex's cottage "library" was a tiny room crammed with cypress bookshelves. The ceiling, walls, and floorboards were cypress too, giving the room a warm, unified look that showcased the agent's homier side. Drying herbs were suspended from the rafters, and a beaded macramie tapestry hung as decoration.

The stifling Louisiana summer made the wood-burning stove in the corner redundant, but the screened-in window on the opposite side of the room let in the sounds of night birds and crickets. It was so different from what I was used to that I felt like I had stepped into a meme about pioneer life. I gestured to the overstuffed armchair and round footstool beneath the window.

"Have a seat. Want me to pick out something for you to read?" I asked, flipping through the first book my hand landed on.

Nixie shook her head. She looked equally out of place as she spilled her nubile body into the chair and tucked her bare feet beneath her. The lamp on the side table made her brown skin golden. Her attractiveness wasn't marred by the tiredness written plainly on her face. She laid her head on her hands on the armrest, avoiding eye contact with me. I stared.

Her neatly twined locs extended over the arm of the chair to the floor, and when she moved, she had to bundle it to keep it from getting in the way. The chestnut coils were tipped in coral pink and blond. I remembered seeing her the day of the highspeed chase, and I wondered what she was like when she wasn't scared out of her wits. Fun, spontaneous? I stood in the doorway, wanting to say something kind, but I didn't know what.

So, I backed out of the room and went looking for Dex. I strode through the short hallway with its wall-mounted terrariums, where bioluminescent fungi and slimes glowed dimly behind the glass. The kitchen and living room had been hastily tidied and were empty. I found the agent outside in a shed. I followed the light from her workstation and stepped through the open door.

The space was crowded with sophisticated lab equipment I didn't recognize. I paused to examine a large glass case on a table in the center of the room. It contained a starkly beautiful decaying tree trunk covered in thick, velvety moss. The wood had been split lengthwise to expose its dark, moist interior, and tiny vibrant blue mushrooms sprouted from the cross-section.

Colorful lichens—green, orange, and yellow—sprang from stones that nestled against the tree, while delicate ferns unfurled verdant shoots from the nooks and crannies. It appeared as if someone had scooped up a section of the forest floor and placed it in the box. I stood there for several minutes, admiring it.