Strange Medicine

by Jim Stein

  “Don’t you look like hell?” A true friend, Pete rarely exercised discretion. “Funny, Quinn has that same haunted look, like she was up all night doing something she now deeply regrets.”

  I punched him in the arm, just hard enough to hurt my wrist and get his attention. Stupid farmer barely flinched. We took the morning slow to give Dwain time with the villagers, but had to leave mid-afternoon to make the vortex before sundown. When the ATVs were rigged to go, Dawa rolled out on a one-person chariot behind another of his giant fleas.

  “Where does he keep those things?” I asked Pete as we waited astride our rides.

  “Underground, I bet. They’re actually aphids. Back home, ants and aphids have a symbiotic relationship. Farmer ants even raise fungus for them.”

  Quinn gave my leg a squeeze and pointed to where Dwain trudged out of the commons area he used as an infirmary. I thumbed the horn and gave a friendly get-your-ass-in-gear wave. I drove with Quinn pressed close and comfortable behind me. At the sound of my horn, Dwain squared his shoulders and trotted over.

  “Guest of honor seat.” I pointed to the empty spot behind Pete. “You single-handedly fixed the whole vortex mess, so you get to ride out first to our adoring fans on the other side. Quinn and I will follow Anna to keep an eye on Charles. Manny and Vance are bringing up the rear.”

  Impatient as always, Rhonda had ridden out at first light and would meet us at the vortex. Dawa was our ace in the hole to avoid problems if any monsters lingered at the portal. Manny’s assistant had no such protection, but after seeing her transform into something between a werewolf and demon-cat, maybe I should be more worried about the poor shamblers and trolls.

  “I’ll ride out with you”—Dwain swung up into the seat—“but I’m not leaving.”

  “Yeah right.” Pete snorted, then sobered when Dwain didn’t crack a smile.

  “There’s just too much to do here. I can’t leave Larmoth and the others. Teaching even basic skills is going to take months, maybe years.”

  “Then we have to go back and change the timer on Lifebringer,” Quinn said.

  “Can’t, and you don’t want to leave the portal open. The folks here talk of more titans and worse wandering around. I need to do this.”

  It was a quiet procession as we worked our way to the tunnel entrance leading out to the forests. Max paced restlessly at every stop and ran ahead as soon as we started up again. The trees looked less ashen, and new buds had pushed most of the gnarled leaves off so the ground crunched.

  Rolling out onto the grassy plains had my ears sighing in relief. It wasn’t until we were halfway across the short thick grass that the much diminished vortex came into view on the horizon. What had been a threatening wall of green stretching across the entire horizon was now a funnel cloud with the footprint of a small cottage. Leaves and debris replaced the creatures that had been frozen in its swirling body and sky blue showed through, making the portal look distinctly bright and cheery.

  In just three days, lush grass had overrun the shattered clay we’d ridden in on. No hordes camped on the open plains, and all too soon we were at the base of the vortex. Good to her word, Rhonda waited by her dirt bike.

  “I swear it shrank as we rode up,” Anna said.

  “It’s closing fast.” Dwain slipped off the ATV, walked over, and stuck out his hand. “I guess this is it.”

  His grip was strong, but then sprites were always hardier than people expected. He worked his way around, getting hugs from the women and gruff goodbyes from the men. Max gave him a good snuffling too. I strode over with him to where Dawa stood by his mutant aphid.

  “I’m glad we met.” Shaking those ant pads was like grabbing a stiff oven mitt. “And thanks for the help.”

  “I would say the same. My people have a new chance. It’s time all the races again try to work together.”

  “Wouldn’t that be nice?” I turned away, but swung back with a sideways glance at Dwain. “Take care of…things. Okay?”

  “If we’re done with the sentimental crap?” Rhonda fired up her bike and crooked a finger at Anna and Charles. “Hop on, short stuff. I’ve got people on the other side just dying to meet this clown.”

  The bike shot into the portal doing twenty and dragging the bobbing drummer behind. Gods help anyone standing too close on the other side. Manny and Vance went next, but the deputy babied his much-abused silver four-wheeler, so the pair crossed at a more cautious pace. Pete shrugged, waved to Dwain, and swept his right arm forward in our video game clear-for-takeoff signal.

  “Just us now,” I said when Pete vanished. “You first, Max.”

  Max wagged his tail and gave a plaintive whine. I waved him on with more encouraging words. He finally slunk forward, sniffed at the ground in front of the tornado, then trotted back and sat down.

  “Something’s got him spooked.” Quinn gave it a try, but the big doofus didn’t budge.

  “Okay, fine. We’ll go first.”

  I kicked us into gear and rolled forward. Max stood, tail still slapping out a beat, but didn’t follow. I hopped off, stomped over, and gave his snout a little shake with my fake growl. It was an old familiar move, more of a friendly talking-to than punishment. I scratched his nose and rubbed his ears, all the while telling him it was time to go and using lots of words like come, good boy, and of course his name. Sometimes you had to play the game and do the ritual, but all it yielded was more tail slapping.

  “He cannot leave.” Dawa’s hand fell lightly on my shoulder, but his words landed hard.

  “Why?” I watched Max’s eyebrows twitch left and right in worry.

  “My brother was correct in one thing. He is manatoh.”

  “He’s my dog.” I preferred not to think of the interesting things Max had done in the past few days.

  “He is a spirit animal, a powerful one.” Dawa sighed and took Max’s face in his hands. “The power in him sleeps, but it is still there. The veil will not allow his passage.”

  “Oh come on! Quinn’s half witch, my dad’s a god, and Rhonda is something crazy dangerous. So someone used a little magic on him. Big deal.” What exactly had Pina done to bring Max back?

  “Your friends wield great power, but your animal has been infused with ancient energy, with part of an immortal soul. I am sorry.”

  It wasn’t a proclamation I was willing to take at face value. Quinn and I tried everything we could think of to get him through the portal. We walked him by leash to the base of the vortex, but his steps faltered and stopped ten feet away. I even wove my hiding spell around Max, but was again thwarted.

  Stars pricked through the deep purple above. I sat with Max’s heavy head on my knee, flat out of options.

  “It’s late,” Quinn said softly as she laid a hand on my shoulder. “The others will be worried.”

  I blinked, surprised to see the sheen of moonlight reflecting off her dark curls. How late is it? My lower leg screamed when I pulled free, and blood rushed down to the numb stump that used to be my foot. Max perked up, looking all innocent as I stumbled around cursing.

  “I’m not giving up on you!” I sighted down my finger at my dog, who gave a suffering sigh and trotted over to sit by Dwain. “Pina and Koko will help sort this out. How much time do we have, Dwain?”

  The sprite jumped at his name and turned away from Dawa’s unusual steed, which he’d clearly been petting.

  “Day and a half, maybe two. But there’s nothing I can do at this point to stop the portal from shrinking.”

  “Do what you need to, but make sure Max stays near.” I let Quinn pull me to our ride and start the engine. “We’ll be back.”

  I clutched Quinn tight and hid my face in her shoulder as we headed for the swirling wall, so thoroughly numb that I didn’t feel us hit the vortex. The only sensation was of dropping into a dark pit as we headed home.

  31. Home at Last

  T

  HROUGH SOME trick of the portal, it was still morning back home. Clouds scuttled ac
ross a gray sky and threatened rain. Glorious weather considering all we’d had for months on end were clear skies and scorching sun.

  “You took your sweet time.” Pete walked across the grass with Melissa and Billy in tow.

  People swarmed over the barn and farm house. Some were hammering loose boards back in place, but one crew framed out a wall to cover a giant hole where the back sunroom used to be. Vance and Manny spoke quietly with a pair of tall elf-like people by the fence that ran down the dirt drive.

  “Hey, grass!” I saw sand dunes on the horizon, but with the exception of the vortex looming behind us, the farm looked perfectly normal.

  “Yep, woke up the other day and…poof, no beach between the house and our tornado there.” Melissa looked awfully perky. “Sand’s been retreating steadily since then. It’s clear to the highway and our outbuildings are back. Most of ‘em slipped off their foundation, but at least they’re not floating off in another dimension.”

  Pete offered Quinn a hand as we dismounted, then looked around. “Where’s the pooch?”

  “That’s what held us up,” I said. “Long story. Have you seen Pina?”

  “She’s been in and out”—he kicked a hole in the green fuzz at his feet—“and asking about Dwain. I haven’t had the heart to tell her.”

  Melissa filled us in on everything they’d dealt with since we left. Anna hadn’t done the story justice, nor mentioned her role in backing down some of the big bad uglies. The girl had gone off with Rhonda when the woman’s brute squad showed up to “speak with” Charles. For all his flaws, I didn’t envy the treatment he would receive.

  We found Koko first. The old spirit wore his traditional clothing, complete with simple headpiece and feathers. I’d grown accustomed to seeing him in true dreams, but found the look suited him better than the fur coat and fedora he’d worn in those early days at the farmer’s market. Pete had given him the rundown, but I filled in a few gaps as we sat and shared a simple lunch from Melissa’s kitchen. Beans and weenies were so much better than dried veggies and questionable honey treats.

  “You have done well in bringing balance to the third world,” Koko said around a mouthful of buttered biscuit. “And Lifebringer?”

  He leaned forward as if eager to hear. Koko looked much healthier than in our recent encounters. The deep stress lines around his eyes and mouth had smoothed back into those ageless crevices, and he no longer sagged under the weight of holding the veil together. I’d downplayed the fact that the shield had to stay put, knowing the old man wanted his creation back. Despite his posture, those sad eyes told me that he knew full well what we’d done, but just wanted to hear my take.

  “Dwain made it right. Your shield’s cleaning and revitalizing the land again instead of draining it. A small bit of the power will keep the portal open for another day or two.”

  “I suppose if the third world is to persist it must be so. And the sprite is not returning?”

  “Dwain has to stay and help the Ant People heal.” I was so tired of the gods refusing to acknowledge the lesser races, for sending me on a quest that had cost too much, for all of it. “They know nothing of medicine, and those mutilated by the shield stealing their healing energy need help to recover. And Max can’t get back either. I don’t know what Pina did to him, but you can fix it, right? You can fix all of it.” I cringed at the desperate hope in my voice.

  “She had nothing to do with your friend’s return. You can thank—or curse—Uktena for that. We were unaware that the great serpent also had a great heart. But it was not his place to do such a thing. With the Vortex shrinking, he has kept to the shadows.”

  “But the doorway is still open. He could bring Max back.”

  “The only way to do that is to revoke the power bestowed upon your dog. And that”—he gave a sad shake of his head—“is what keeps him alive.”

  Unwilling to accept his answer, I looked for Pina among the handful of defenders that stayed to keep an eye on the vortex. Given how the Neutral Council had forbade me to interfere, it was amazing to see a trio of gray-robed figures lending a hand. Even more striking were the black-clad men and women who took delight in poking and prodding two trolls toward the portal. The supernatural communities seemed perfectly capable of coexisting, which made me wonder if the whole light-dark battle was all that dire.

  I finally found Pina in the house helping Melissa set out decorative flower boxes. She quickly dispelled my misconception.

  “The courts come together in times of dire need, but the truce is always fleeting,” Pina said after giving me a big hug that left dirty handprints on my jeans. “More leave each day. Only a few of us will stay to see that the vortex fully closes.” She gave me an impish little smile. “I’m staying to give Dwain a big welcome home. Anna says he was quite the hero.”

  Ah, crap.

  “Yeah, about that. He’s still got some work to do.”

  As I gently explained, the light drained from her shining, expectant face and tears welled in those gorgeous green eyes. I felt like a bull in a china shop, trying to organize delicate teacups, but crushing them instead under my stupid, fat hooves.

  Bringing up Max only made things worse. He and Pina had many sleep-overs in the hall closet she’d made into her bedroom, and she had no better idea than Koko of how to bring him home safely. I promised we would go visit them both before the vortex disappeared. Pina said she’d like that.

  I left her sniffling and sipping herbal tea at the kitchen table and went to find Manny. The Dark Court never had a problem breaking the rules. I found the road manager skimming supplies off the pickup that rolled in from a trip to town.

  “Sorry, slick, I don’t see a way around this one.” Manny took a big swig of his neon green energy drink. “Where has this stuff been all my life?”

  The deranged clown on the can gazed at me with bulging eyes as Manny gulped down the last bit. I’d been addicted to the stuff most of my life, but more frantic energy was the last thing I needed.

  “How about the Company?” I asked. “They’ve got to have more resources.”

  “This isn’t a matter of more is better. These are fundamental laws set down by the most ancient deities. I’m sorry.”

  I’m sorry. I was so sick of hearing those words that I wanted to scream, to tear the can from his hand and mash it into the ground. Even worse was the pity in his eyes. Manny, consort to dark forces, worried about how I felt. How crazy was that? Guilt came swift on the heels of the bitter thought. The road manager had made his choice. Although not always a pleasure to work with, he’d been there when it mattered.

  Manny and the band had even talked about forming their own promotion company to get everyone back on the road for album three. Now that the airways weren’t jammed up by magic desert, communications flowed freely. The first tour had spurred other artists to push the envelope, and Billy didn’t want the A-Chords to get left in the dust.

  ***

  The following day, Pina and I gathered our courage and went back through the portal. This time we felt the wind tugging at our clothes and trying to push us back to our own side of the veil. The vortex stood only as tall as Pete’s old tractor and about as wide. We pressed on through the thickening air until we popped out under sunny cobalt skies.

  I raked fingers through hair that had become a bird’s nest. Pina remained the never-changing picture of perfection, except for the shadow under her bloodshot eyes. Still, she put on a brave face, and we walked to where the Ants had built a new shelter. Three people stood next to the domed hut. Well, one person, Max, and a five foot tropical plant with broad leaves and commando boots.

  The tree stumbled forward, heading straight for Pina.

  “We brought this beauty up from troll lands.” Dwain’s face poked through the leaves where a pair of red and purple flowers the size of my fist hung upside-down like kissing sloths. “It’s called a Royal Maiden and reminded me of you.”

  He hoisted the potted plant the last few steps, plo
pped it down next to Pina, and swept into a bow that would have been regal if not for the long serrated leaves sticking at odd angles from his curls. Pina looked up at the towering gift and rushed forward to sweep the surprised sprite into a fierce hug.

  Dwain’s face turned vivid crimson, but he wrapped his arms around her like he never planned to let go. Eventually they disengaged, and Pina bestowed a similar treatment on my dog, though I would say with not quite as much enthusiasm.

  “Dwain has been quite a help,” Dawa said when pleasantries had been exchanged. “We’d be lost without him.”

  “Yeah, about that…” Dwain turned to Pina, but she held up her hand.

  “I know you have to stay. Let’s just talk.”

  She slipped an arm into his and led him to the far side of the hut. I pulled a handful of dog treats from my pocket and held the peace offering out to Max. I felt horrible for treating him so roughly on the way out, but I’d been desperate to get him through the portal. One of the great things about animals is they seldom hold a grudge. Max gobbled down the treats. Then sniffed and pawed at my back pocket where the really good stuff hid.

  The beef jerky came from Pete. I gave Max a big strip before bringing out the toy. Ralph still had Mr. Rabbit, but Melissa sewed eyes and a face on an old chunk of firehose to make an indestructible replacement. The foot-long toy was heftier and aerodynamic enough to throw. Dawa watched in amused silence while Max and I played.

  My dog was never the best fetcher. In his version of the game he simply ran out and tagged Mr. Firehose as if to say, “I found it!” Then it was up to me to go get it for another throw. And of course farther was better. Every once in a while Max would forget the rules and actually pick the toy up, carry it back a few steps, and drop it before returning.

  We collapsed into an exhausted, comfortable heap and shared the pound of jerky Pete had so generously provided. I didn’t begrudge an ounce or a minute of sitting there next to Max and letting him wolf down as much as he wanted. This was a last meal of sorts—for both of us.