Free Honeyed Words by J. A. Pitts

in his shirt pocket. He placed the bandana-wrapped pottery shards inside the safety-deposit box.
    Before he closed the lid, he slid his fingers over a small journal inside. His mother had been working on it when his parents disappeared. He didn’t have enough knowledge to decipher the markings, and the one time he’d tried, he’d nearly killed himself. His mother knew magic and wards. There was something in the way the journal was protected that had caused him to collapse into seizures. If Deidre hadn’t been home, he may have died. He’d hidden the journal here, but one day, he’d have to decipher its secrets. Somewhere in there were the answers to his family’s origins; he knew it.
    With a sigh, he shut the safety-deposit box and stepped out from behind the curtain.
    The guard replaced the box and Jimmy took the key.
    Now to decipher the note from his father and see if he could contact this secret member of his father’s cabal.

Ten
     
    Skella and Gletts showed us around Stanley Park. Skella was eager to show us the Girl in a Wetsuit statue out on the shore, said it was based on one of the Vanir—the oldest race of gods, older than Odin and his crew— the Æsir. This beautiful maiden swam these waters as either a young maiden or a powerful salmon. Legend had it she was murdered by one of the Æsir—likely Loki, the trickster. Rumor was she had a great trove of treasure hidden somewhere in one of the many coves along the coast and Loki coveted her gold.
    Katie said it was likely he coveted her treasure all right, but doubted it was anything more than the cove between her legs.
    Gletts laughed at this, losing the last of his aloofness. Skella found the thought disturbing and ushered us farther around the park.
    We spent the entire afternoon with the two goth kids—elves, I had to remember— and ended up having a grand time. Turned out Gletts had a wicked sense of humor, and Skella’s sweet laugh seemed to make him swell with pride.
    At one point, as Skella and I discussed the history of the area, Gletts wove two flowered necklaces for us. I laughed, of course.
    “Sorry, dude. Really not me,” but I put it in my pack all the same. Skella looked upset, and Gletts hurt, but Katie made a big deal about putting it on, and that seemed to make them somewhat happier.
    Near sundown, we ended back at the park entrance. A mother and her two children sat on a bench along the far side of the square. The younger child was eating ice cream, but the older boy, about eleven, was facing away from his family, fervently working a Rubik’s Cube. Gletts leaned against the great statue of Robert Burns watching them while Skella hugged us both.
    “Come back anytime,” she said sweetly. “It has been our honor having you in our home.”
    Gletts grunted, whether in agreement or not, I couldn’t tell. “Have your people always lived here?” I asked.
    “As far back as we remember,” Skella offered.
    “Not Gran,” Gletts said, pushing himself off the statue. “She remembers Alfheim, our true home.”
    Skella looked a little sad at that and shrugged. “True enough, but what can you do?”
    “Why can’t you go back to Alfheim?” Katie asked.
    Gletts laughed. “Because we’re idiots,” he barked. “We can’t find the way.”
    “We once traveled through Asgard,” Skella said. “But when the wyrms destroyed the Vanir back in the beginning of time, they broke the rainbow bridge, and that way has been closed to us ever since.”
    Katie’s eyes were as huge as headlights. “Broke the bridge?” she whispered.
    “Boo hoo,” Gletts said. “They were fools—”
    Skella shot him a withering look, which caused him to blanch.
    “—leastwise, that’s what Gran always says.” He shrugged and went back to leaning on the statue.
    Not a new argument, I supposed. But one where the sides had long been established.
    “They were arrogant, yes. Allowed themselves to be duped. Loki played no small part in their undoing, and his