66: The Enemy Within

Glorfindel arrived about fifteen minutes later with Finrod, Amroth and Vorondur in tow. Without a word, Derek turned the laptop around so they could read the email. Glorfindel’s expression was one of concern; Finrod was more interested in speaking with his son and the other two ellyn, while Amroth and Vorondur both grimaced at what they were reading.

"That makes no sense," Amroth said finally. "Farrell has to be working for the Agency, otherwise none of the other agents would follow him and he knows too much of what is going on not to have been sent by the Agency."

"So why would this Shanna Machell send this email saying otherwise?" Glorfindel countered.

Amroth shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"And we can spend all day playing guessing games while Alex is out there somewhere," Derek interjected hotly.

"What exactly do you think we can do about it?" Glorfindel shot back.

"Call in reinforcements," Derek replied. "You’ve got those Maiar running around loose, don’t you? Maybe one of them saw Alex leave and knows where he is."

"Even if I did call upon them, it is unlikely that they would respond or, if they did, that they would give us a straight answer or any answer at all," Glorfindel retorted with a frown.

"Then what in blue blazes are they doing hanging around if not to help us?" Derek demanded.

"They cannot interfere...."

"They’ve already interfered!" Derek shot back, nearly yelling, as he stood to face Glorfindel. "They’ve done nothing but interfere since Day One. Between them and you and that damn Farrell, Alex is being pulled in so many different directions he doesn’t know if he’s coming or going. He’s so confused that half the time he doesn’t know if he’s Alex, Artemus or the Man in the Moon. Half the time, I don’t know and that really scares me, even if it doesn’t scare you. He’s out there somewhere, probably trying to hunt down Farrell, and God knows what state he’s in."

"You’re being unfair," Glorfindel said somewhat angrily. "We’ve been trying to help him."

Before Derek could respond there was a series of lights and the smell of apples and Fionwë was in their midst. "Peace, my children," he said soothingly. "Your anger at one another does you no credit."

"Where is he?" Derek demanded.

"I cannot...."

"Then get the hell out of my face!" Derek nearly screamed, balling his hands into fists. "If you’re not here to help, you can just go to hell!"

"Derek!" Finrod exclaimed. "Calm down, child."

"Damn it all to hell, stop calling me that! Get out, all of you. You’re next to useless as far as I’m concerned. Get out, just get out!" He made a threatening gesture toward them, as if he’d like nothing more than to wring their necks or punch them out, forcing them to step back, their expressions more sorrowful than angry. Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen looked especially hurt.

At that moment, there was a greater flurry of lights that nearly blinded them and then all the Elves were bowing while Derek just stood there scowling. "Now what? Who invited you to this party?"

Námo, dressed in flowing robes of deepest midnight blue, raised an amused eyebrow at the Mortal while the Elves all had pained expressions on their faces. Fionwë merely rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "I see some things never change," Námo said mildly. "The one thing I have always been able to count on is the insolence of Mortals. They do nothing but give me grief in one form or another. It’s most entertaining."

"I’m happy to see you’re so bloody amused," Derek shot back with a sneer. "Now, unless you have anything useful to say, I suggest you go back to wherever you came from and you can take them with you." He gestured to the Elves and Fionwë.

"Child, you need to take a deep breath and calm down," Námo said, still speaking mildly. "We are not the enemy and your intransigence is not helping matters."

"Lord Námo is correct, Derek," Finrod said. "We are all as anxious about Alex as thou’rt, but we have no more idea where he might be than thee."

"But they know," Derek countered, nodding towards the Vala and the Maia, giving them a dark look. "They know, but they won’t tell."

"Do you really wish for us to give you all the answers?" Námo asked. "Do you truly wish to give up your free will in all things? For that is what you are really asking when you demand that we tell you what you want to know."

"Then why are you even here, if you’re not going to help?" Derek demanded, sounding more frustrated than belligerent.

For a moment Námo did not answer, then turned to Fionwë. "You may return to your duties, my son," he said and without a word, the Maia bowed and faded from their sight. Námo gestured to the Elves and Derek. "Why don’t we sit?" Derek reluctantly resumed his seat before Alex’s desk while the Elves sat on the beds. Námo stood with his back to the door facing them, looking grave. "It is a legitimate question," he said, "but the answer is complicated. We are helping in ways that you cannot appreciate, but our help is very limited and only as the One directs. If you had no knowledge of our existence, Derek, what would you be doing?"

"Probably tearing Wiseman apart looking for Alex," Derek admitted.

Námo nodded. "A typical reaction, though ultimately futile, as a little thought will show you. Yet, you see our dilemma? Our interference, if that is what it is, is on a very limited scale and we are bound not to interfere to the extent where we destroy your own free will. Then, you only become our puppets and that may be as the Enemy wishes, but it is not our desire. We desire cooperation and companionship between you and the Eldar, not slaves."

Before anyone could comment, the door opened and to everyone’s astonishment, save perhaps Námo, Alex was standing there looking somewhat nonplused.

"Whoa! What’s going on here?" he asked.

"Where the hell have you been?" Derek demanded, leaping up to grab Alex by the shoulders, practically shaking him in his distress. "Are you okay? Where did you go? What the hell happened?"

"Hey! Will you back off?" He pushed Derek away, giving everyone a puzzled look. "Why are you all here, anyway?"

"Why? Why do you think?" Derek demanded, getting angry again. "You never showed up for lunch. I come back here and find this," — he pointed to the laptop — "and you missing."

"Oh, sorry," Alex looked somewhat chagrined. "I guess my mind was on other things."

"Other things?" Derek exclaimed.

Before Alex could reply, Amroth cut in. "Did you go looking for Farrell?"

"Huh? Uh... no. I knew that email was a fake."

"What???!!!" Derek nearly shouted. All the Elves looked almost as nonplused.

Alex nodded. "Shanna never sent it."

"And you know this how?" Derek asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Because of this," Alex replied calmly, going to the laptop and clicking on it, closing down the email and opening up another one.

Derek bent to read it, his expression one of confusion. "What does this mean?"

"Just what it says," Alex replied. "Shanna Machell couldn’t have sent that email because she was already dead when it was sent."

"Dead?" Amroth echoed.

Alex grimaced. "Yeah. Apparently the day after I sent her an email asking for information on Farrell, she was involved in a traffic accident. She hung on for some time but three days ago she died. Her funeral was yesterday and that email was sent this morning."

"An accident," Amroth said quietly. "How convenient." He shot a look at Námo who returned his look with equanimity.

"If you are wondering if it was truly an accident or murder, I cannot say, for it is a thing forbidden to me to speak of the true reasons for the deaths of others. That is a thing you must discover for yourself if you can."

Amroth nodded, apparently resigned to that explanation. Derek was not paying much attention, still focused on Alex.

"So, if you didn’t go looking for Farrell, where did you go?"

Now Alex looked sheepish. "When I read about Shanna and then saw the other email, I sort of blanked out. I ended up in the woods bordering the college to the west. I... I needed time to think."

"And you couldn’t take five seconds to let me know where you were going?" Derek asked.

"Hey, I’m sorry, okay? I just wasn’t thinking straight."

"Obviously," Derek said with a sneer, and then he snarled an oath, went to his closet and grabbed his coat.

"Where are you going?" Alex demanded.

"Out, before I do something we’ll all regret," came the reply as he flung open the door and stormed out.

"Derek, wait!" Alex went to go after him, but Námo stopped him. "Let him be. He needs time alone, even as you did." Alex grimaced but did not contradict the Vala.

"So if this Shanna didn’t send the email, just who did and what did they hope to gain by it?" Glorfindel asked in the ensuing silence.

Alex just shrugged. "Someone playing mind games with me for reasons of their own."

"Someone who had access to Shanna’s files and saw your original email to her," Amroth said.

"But the question remains, was it before or after the accident, if that is what it was?" Alex shot back. "If it was before, and the accident was arranged, that means that all my emails even to Maddy have been monitored, perhaps even hijacked so she’s not getting them or getting a modified version of them."

"Is that even possible?" Glorfindel asked.

Alex shrugged. "Anything is possible, but whether it’s probable is another matter. All I know is that someone wants me to think that Farrell has nothing to do with the Agency, but why is still a mystery." He sighed, rubbing a hand across his eyes as he undid his coat with the other. "Look, I think you should all leave."

"Alex...." Glorfindel started to say, but Alex just shook his head.

"Really, I think you need to leave," he said. "I appreciate your concern, but...."

"Call us if you need us," Vorondur said, speaking for the first time. "I don’t like the way things are shaping up. Someone is playing with us and I don’t like it. Innocent people can be hurt, perhaps they already have been, if it turns out that Shanna’s accident was no accident at all. Was she the only victim?" He turned to Námo who shook his head, but refused to say anything further.

Vorondur grimaced and muttered something in Quenya. Alex didn’t seem to be paying any attention, staring at his laptop and the email announcing Shanna Machell’s death. Quietly, the others left, leaving only Námo behind. For a long moment, neither he nor Alex moved or spoke. Alex stood, idly running a finger across the laptop’s keyboard. "She’s dead because of me, isn’t she?" he finally said, not looking up. "I killed her when I sent that email."

When Námo didn’t respond, he turned to face him. The Vala’s expression was hard to read but his eyes were full of compassion to a depth that was hard for the Mortal to comprehend and he had to look away, busying himself with removing his coat and hat, throwing them on his bed. He plopped bonelessly into the chair by his desk, his arms resting on his lap, his whole body bent over as if in defeat.

"I am so messed up," he whispered, "and now Derek hates me."

Námo reached out and lifted Alex’s chin, forcing him to look up. "Derek does not hate you," he said quietly, "but he is royally pissed off, as I believe the expression is, but once he calms down.... Artemus, there are forces out there that are inimical to you and to Elf Academy. We are entering into a war, a war that will decide the fate of this entire planet, if not the universe itself. And in any war, there will be casualties on both sides. Shanna Machell may or may not have been such a victim. I cannot say, for that is something that you must discover for yourself, if you can."

He paused for a moment, and when he spoke again, it was with great firmness. "But know that, even if it appears we Valar are doing nothing to help, we are, as the One directs, doing what we can. The war itself, when it comes, may not come even in your lifetime or the lifetime of your children, should you ever have any, but it will come, and these are the opening sallies, with each side testing the other." He gave Alex a significant look and the Mortal nodded, understanding. "Good," he said. "I will leave you for now and check on Derek, make sure he is well. Before I go, though, I will leave you with this thought... you look upon Farrell as the enemy, but perhaps you should better think of him as another victim in this skirmish."

Before Alex could respond to that, the Vala faded away, leaving the Mortal to ponder his words.

****

Derek paid no attention to where he was going and was only mildly surprised to find himself standing before the very woods Alex had mentioned. He’d never been there before this and was only vaguely aware of the fact that the woods even existed. Snarling a muttered oath he moved between the trees, trying to understand what Alex saw in the place, but he was so incensed that it was nearly impossible for him to sense the calm and peace that radiated from the trees. He stumbled over a thick limb half-buried in the snow and stared at it for the longest time, as if unsure just what it was. Then, he stooped down to pull it out of the snow. It felt heavy and solid in his hands and before he knew it, he gave vent to his seething anger, and with a wordless cry, began striking against the nearby trees and fallen logs, beating against them with as much power as he could, imagining that he was hitting Farrell... Alex... Námo... even the Elves.

How long he let his rage rule him, he neither knew nor cared, but a time came when he attempted to strike a tree and missed, nearly stumbling to his knees, suddenly feeling exhausted, the limb heavy in his hands. He dropped it, and mindless of the churned up snow and mud, fell to his knees, panting for breath, tears heedlessly flowing. For several minutes all he could hear was the rasping of his breath as he attempted to get his breathing under control.

"Feeling better?"

He looked up to see Námo standing there.

"You again," Derek said, though he was too worn out to sound too belligerent.

"Me again," Námo said with a nod, holding out his hand. Derek hesitated for a moment and then reached up and grabbed the hand, allowing the Vala to pull him up. Then he was sitting on a snow-bare log feeling weak and suddenly thirsty. He was unsurprised when Námo produced a glass of water which he drank avidly, unaware that the glass never emptied until he had had his fill. He sighed as he handed the glass back to the Vala, nodding his thanks.

"So, are you here to chew me out?" Derek finally asked.

"No," Námo responded mildly. "That is not my job. You might want to apologize to the trees, though. They were quite hurt when you attacked them when all they wanted was to offer you their friendship."

Derek gave the Vala a puzzled look. "They’re just trees," he said in protest.

"They are living beings, child," Námo said somewhat coldly, "though they do not walk on two legs or even four and their thought patterns are not as yours, yet they feel pain and joy no less than you."

"Sorry," Derek replied, looking chagrined. "This is so screwy. What’s happening to me? I don’t remember feeling such rage before in my life and the good Lord knows I’ve had reason to feel such rage at times. Why now? And Alex...."

"You have entered a world that is darker, more dangerous, yet also more glorious, than you ever suspected existed and it is taking you time to assimilate all that you have been experiencing of late," Námo supplied. "Alex’s thoughtlessness gave you a fright and, admittedly, you handled it badly, but your reaction is understandable under the circumstances. Still, you need to decide how deeply you want to be involved in what is happening."

"What do you mean?" Derek demanded. "Do you think I can just walk away from all this, pretend it never happened?"

"I can arrange it so that you have no memory of any of this, if you want," Námo offered, looking grave. "You would leave here and return home convinced you had a pleasant time being a Christmas Elf and now you are ready to move on."

"And Alex?"

"Alex would have no memory of his gwador," Námo replied. "He’ll simply remember a pleasant enough young man who was his roommate, but nothing more than that." He shrugged. "He’ll be alone, but then, he’s used to that. And no, even the Elves will have no memory of you joining with them. Is that what you want?"

"You can actually do all that? Isn’t that interfering, though?"

"In a sense, but no one’s free will would be abrogated and I offer it only because the One allows it. You are free to walk away, if that is what you truly wish; the choice is entirely yours to make."

"And I take it that this is a one-time offer?" Derek asked, giving the Vala a considering look.

Námo gave him a ghost of a smile and nodded. "And it is a limited-time offer. When you leave these woods, you will either leave as Alex’s gwador... or you will not. If you decline this offer, then know that there is no going back. You will be committing yourself to this war and there are no guarantees that you will even survive it."

For several long moments, Derek said nothing, staring at the ground, his thoughts flitting from one scene to another in no particular chronological order: his first meeting with Alex, the dreams he’d had of being in the Iditarod before coming to Alaska, Alex and Caleb nearly drowning at the tarn and the miraculous appearance of four hikers who came to the rescue, Alex showing him the background documents on the Elves, the snowball fight when he, Alex and Amroth had made a wicked team, the enchanted pumpkins, meeting the Maiar, the games and cheering Alex on as he struggled to finish the race, meeting Eärendil and Finrod, the night at the Blue Petrel that went entirely pear-shaped in a hurry, and a host of other images, both significant and not. Finally he looked up at the Vala standing before him, still as a statue, waiting for his response and nodded.

"I’m in," was all he said.

Námo nodded gravely. "So be it," and the way he said it and the tone of his voice sent a shiver of fear or awe down Derek’s spine and he came to a dim realization that with those three little words, Námo had sealed his doom, whatever it might be. Yet, that did not really disturb him. Ultimately, he knew that he would die; that was a given, being Mortal, but the manner in which he might die no longer held any terror for him.

He struggled to stand, feeling a little lightheaded for some reason and Námo held out a hand to steady him. "Take a few deep breaths," he suggested and as Derek complied, the world seemed to right itself. "You should return to the Academy. Alex is waiting for you."

Derek nodded and started to leave, but Námo held him back. He gave the Vala a puzzled look. "Remember, child, the enemy within," and here he pointed at Derek’s heart, "can be more dangerous than the enemy without. Take care that you do not let it overtake you, as it did today."

Derek nodded in understanding and the Vala let him go.

****

Alex looked up when he heard the door open. He was still seated before his desk, sitting somewhat dejectedly, his mind wandering. He was feeling heart-sore and simply tired and longed to just pack it up and catch the first plane out of Fairbanks to Boston. He wanted nothing more than to go home, see his mom and forget all about the Agency, Elf Academy and Farrell.

"Hey," Derek said quietly as he stood a bit hesitantly in the doorway, as if unsure of his welcome.

"Hey," Alex replied. "Sorry. I really screwed up, didn’t I?"

"It happens," Derek said, shrugging out of his coat as he came all the way inside, closing the door and hanging up the coat in his closet. "I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have stormed out as I did, but I was pretty close to losing it altogether and I just needed some space."

Alex nodded. "So now what?"

"Now we go round up the three amigos and have dinner."

"Huh?" Alex gave Derek a perplexed look, not expecting such an answer.

Derek grinned. "I don’t know about you, but all that yelling’s given me an appetite and it’s nearly time for dinner."

"Is that all you can think about is your stomach?" Alex asked, grinning back.

"Hey! Navy, remember? We lived for the next meal."

Alex chuckled and stood up. "Okay, Navy man, let me freshen up a bit first and then we’ll go feed you."

"I’ll go check on the three amigos and meet you at the cafeteria." He paused, giving Alex a sober look. "You will be there, won’t you?"

"Yes, I’ll be there, I promise," Alex said gravely, understanding where Derek was coming from.

Derek nodded, opening the door. "See you in a few," he said, stepping out and heading down the hall. Alex grabbed his toiletry bag and headed in the opposite direction to the bathroom. Ten minutes later he joined Derek and the Elves in line. The Elves gave both Mortals concerned looks, but as neither Derek nor Alex deigned to say anything, keeping their conversation neutral and speaking of trivialities concerning the Academy, they remained quiet, willing to go along in pretending that the upset earlier never happened.