by Wen Spencer
Marrying Taggart only solved half the problem. What were they going to do about Nigel’s visa? He was very good-looking in his own right and a sweet-natured, intelligent man. Did she know anyone desperate to get married?
Brandy? No, the police officer only wanted a sexual partner, not a husband.
Until they found someone for Nigel, they had to assume that they only had fifty-some days to film the first season of Chased by Monsters. They needed to find any hidden namazu nests, make sure that the rivers were free of the monsters, and do the paperwork for Taggart to become an official Pittsburgher via marriage.
God, her mother was going to want a real wedding: church, priest, white dress, and a big reception afterward with a table full of several hundred cookies. Her family would want to start baking as soon as possible. They were going to want to use her ovens. Hyeholde was about to become overrun by every relative that could be drafted into the effort.
Maybe she shouldn’t tell her family either.
Her mother would kill her if Jane went behind her back.
She was still wrestling with logistics when they pulled into Hyeholde’s long driveway.
First step obviously was to find the hidden nests, since they had no idea how long the eggs took to hatch. Second was to fill out the paperwork to keep Taggart in Pittsburgh. Third was to find a woman for Nigel—assuming that the man was straight. The realization of how little she knew about the Chased by Monsters team scared her slightly now that she was planning to marry one of them.
She forced herself to put all thoughts aside. The price of living out in the middle of nowhere was to be vigilant to danger. They’d left the house empty for hours; she needed to be sure that nothing deadly had wandered into the area.
The morning had her so ramped up that Hyeholde felt like the abandoned and forgotten corner of Pittsburgh that it was. She stood in the driveway, rifle in hand, listening carefully to the wind move through the trees.
Jane eyed the forest that pressed close to the yard. Were the woods too quiet? Or had the morning just ratcheted up her paranoia to new heights? “Stay on watch. I’m checking the house.”
Her front door was still locked, none of the windows were broken, and nothing seemed to be stirring within the house. The back door and both side doors were barred as well as locked. She couldn’t shake the feeling, though, that someone had been in the house.
She looped back to the trucks.
Her brothers were all standing guard with rifles. Hal was up in Bertha’s gunner seat, pretending to fire the big gun, complete with sound effects. “Pew! Pewpewpewpewpew!”
“Bertha doesn’t go ‘pew,’ ” Guy complained. “Star Wars lasers go ‘pew.’ Bertha goes ‘Powpowpowpowpow!’ ”
“More like ‘Boomboomboomboom,’ ” Geoffrey stated.
Should she tell Hal that she was marrying Taggart before or after letting him shoot the cannon? If she told him beforehand, he would probably demand more shots. They didn’t have ammo to waste.
Taggart stood silently to one side, camera on his shoulder, letting her decide when to spill the news.
Alton’s pickup came rumbling up the driveway.
Guy reached up and yanked Hal out of the gunner’s seat. “You don’t point guns at people you don’t want to kill.” Apparently Guy considered himself still on the job of sitting on Hal.
“Hail, the victorious heroes!” Boo called, leaning out the window, waving.
“Hoi!” Jane called back.
Joey launched himself at her as soon as she opened the door. “You were on the radio!”
“We were?” Jane let herself be hugged tight and kissed on the cheek by the little boy.
“Sean saw it all.” Alton climbed down from his truck. Their cousin Sean Roach was the late-night DJ at KDKA radio. He must have been pulling an all-nighter to be at the station so insanely early in the morning. From the studios in the Gateway Center skyscraper, Sean would have had a front row seat to the Market Square action. “Sean bumped the morning show programming so he could do play-by-play. He knew it was you; he recognized Bertha. He was doing damage control. He kept saying things like ‘the unknown heroes have saved the pinned and helpless police officer!’ Speaking of which: Bowman is at Mercy with a concussion and minor lacerations.”
Jane laughed with relief, kissed Joey on the forehead, and handed him off to Marc. “EIA wasn’t happy but the sekasha made them let us go. I think we need to seriously go over the peace treaty and find out what it really says.”
“We need to find the nests,” Nigel stated firmly.
We need to plan a wedding. We need to get a girl for Nigel. We need to break the news—gently—to Hal.
Joey squealed and giggled as Marc tossed him up in the air. “Higher!”
Marc complied, throwing him higher and higher, making him shriek with laughter.
“Whoa! Don’t put him into orbit!” Alton snagged Joey out of the air. “Come on, we got to make our fresh dough and mozzarella cheese for the pizza.”
“Pizza!” Joey cried. “Yay!”
Taggart gave her a questioning glance. He clearly was wondering when she wanted to break the news.
Geoffrey misunderstood the look. “We survived! Now, we cook!”
Taggart grinned. “I like this tradition.”
* * *
While her brothers started dinner, Jane covertly scanned the laws concerning marriage and immigration. The proof of identification didn’t fall on Taggart but on her. She had to provide a Pittsburgh birth certificate and proof of continued residency. Otherwise it was fairly simple. File for license. A blood test for God-knows-what. Pick out a date. Tell her family.
Alton had fresh milk from Grandma Gertie’s Dairy. The process of transforming it into fresh mozzarella fascinated Joey. Geoffrey worked on turning tomatoes from Jane’s garden into sauce. Marc made dough.
Guy scoured her pantry and refrigerator for possible toppings. “How do you live this way? There’s barely anything in here! What do you eat?”
Jane smacked him instead of answering. She enjoyed cooking but it felt like too much effort to cook just for herself. She ate with family on Sundays, and on Fridays with her friends. The rest of the week was hit or miss. She crossed the kitchen to help him locate suitable toppings. “Kalamata olives. Anchovies. Chorizo. Done. Go pick some spinach and fresh basil.”
Chesty stood up with a deep growl, looking toward the front door. A moment later the doorbell rang.
“Hyeholde has a doorbell?” Guy asked in surprise. No one ever used it.
“I didn’t hear a car,” Marc stated.
The doorbell rang again.
Jane pointed at her brothers. “Stay.” She motioned Chesty to follow her out into the foyer. Who the hell was at her front door? She put her right hand back so she could quickly pull her pistol and cautiously cracked the door open.
Yumiko stood on the doorstep. She wore a loose, black tank top and capris. Her crow feet were bare. There was no sign of her massive wings. “We need to talk.”
“Yes, we do.” Jane agreed without opening the door wider.
“You have Joey Shoji.”
“Yes. I consider him family. I won’t allow him to be harmed in any way; that includes being used as a figurehead by a religious fanatic.”
Yumiko snorted. The edges of her lips might have twitched with a smile. “He seems happy here.”
“You’ve been watching.”
“We couldn’t risk Joey being hurt.”
We? As in Yumiko wasn’t alone? The truth or a bluff?
“Joey doesn’t know what happened to his family after he was taken,” Jane said.
Yumiko’s eyes narrowed. “And?”
Was she being clueless or cautious? Jane realized that if the oni hadn’t succeeded in capturing all of Joey’s family, then Yumiko wouldn’t want to leak their location.
“I don’t know who survived.” Jane caught herself from adding that she didn’t care. “My father died when I was twelve. I can�
�t imagine losing your entire family. Joey’s a little boy. He needs people, lots of people that care about him, to help him over this. If it’s just you here to pick him up—then—no, you can’t have him.”
Yumiko studied her in silence for several minutes. Jane really hoped that they weren’t going to start shooting at each other. Yumiko stepped back and waved at the treetops. There was a rustling and then two small figures winged down out of the trees.
It was a tengu girl, probably only fourteen years old, and a boy around ten.
The girl hid behind war paint and a fierce glare. The boy hid behind Yumiko.
“We’re here for Joey,” the girl announced. “You better give him to us.”
“This is Keiko Shoji.” Yumiko nudged the boy and gave him a comforting smile. “And Mickey.”
Joey’s cousins. Not what Jane expected but they certainly looked like Joey.
“We’re making pizza. Do you want to join us? It would be easier on Joey.”
“Pizza!” Mickey cried, full of eagerness.
Keiko gave Jane a teenage look of disgust that said she couldn’t believe that Jane had stooped so low. Yumiko obviously was looking for a trap.
There was a slight noise behind Jane. Yumiko reacted instantly, pulling Keiko behind her and reaching for her pistol.
“Stop it!” Boo shouted.
Yumiko went unnaturally still. It was as if Boo’s words had turned her to stone. Then slowly the tengu woman cocked her head in puzzlement. “Who are you? You’re one of the Chosen.”
“This is my baby sister,” Jane said. “We have lots to talk about.”
* * *
Joey’s reunion with his cousins was at first joyous and then heartbreaking as they explained to the little boy that his aunt and uncle had been killed. He cried uncontrollably until he took refuge in Boo’s arms. Boo rocked him, hugging him close and singing “Skyfall” just like their mother would have. “Let the sky fall, when it crumbles, we will stand tall, face it all, together, at skyfall.”
“Any of the Chosen bloodline can command an individual tengu. The Chosen One—Jin Wong—can command the entire Flock. For centuries, we’ve kept the existence of the Chosen One and the yamabushi secret from the oni. We’d thought that the raid on the Shoji house had been nothing more than the oni rounding up tengu that had slipped from their grasp. They’d staged similar attacks on other houses. That they changed your sister means that we were wrong. Riki had been cooperating with them while I searched for Joey.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “He’s had to do some horrible things to keep up the impression that he’s cooperating with them.”
Like kidnapping the viceroy’s bride and brother?
Riki was the cousin that nightly read the Harry Potter books to Joey. Jane had assumed that he’d been killed. She understood being willing to do anything and everything to get a family member back. Hopefully now that Joey was safe, the tengu would listen to reason. “I want to free Tinker and Windwolf’s blade brother.”
“Riki doesn’t think that’s wise. He’s learned that Pure Radiance foretold Tinker being the lynchpin to stopping the oni. The greater bloods think they understand dreaming; they believe this means they can use her to do the opposite. Kajo’s Eyes are strong but they’re young, untrained and overly confident. They think they have outmaneuvered Pure Radiance. What they don’t realize is that Pure Radiance rarely makes her prophecies known nor has she ever left court since she ended the Clan Wars. She obviously wanted the Eyes to act on her prophecy.”
“Pure Radiance set Tinker up?”
“Yes. She’s played to the Eyes’ weakness; they have human lifespans. They are very good at the short game; they can easily keep one step ahead of someone who thinks day to day. Pure Radiance is Vision’s daughter, the oldest of the intanyei seyosa. A decade is a child’s game to her. She can plot out a century, guiding full civilizations toward an outcome that she wants. I think she’s giving the Eyes enough rope to hang themselves.”
“And Tinker is just an expendable tool?”
“Possibly to Pure Radiance. Not to us. We are attempting to keep her safe.”
It was a politically safe, wise thing for Yumiko to claim but not necessarily the truth. “Attempting” indicated that the tengu were far from in control of the outcome. If they were, half the Shoji family wouldn’t have been butchered.
“The oni will come looking for Boo.” Yumiko detoured the conversation to something closer to home.
“I am not leaving my family.” There was a tremble of fear in Boo’s voice.
“We can keep her hidden.” Alton said.
Unless we have a big-ass Kryskill wedding.
“If you come with us, we’ll be able to give you wings,” Keiko said.
Boo gave her a look of utter want and glanced to each of her siblings. “I’ve lived without wings for fourteen years. I can live another year or two without them.”
Author Note: I had the strangest dream, and you were there.
I dreamed in cartoon one night. Seriously, instead of normal people, everyone was animated. What’s more, it was like the ending credits of a Japanese anime. In Japan, there is a strong tradition of doing group dances, kind of like country-western line dancing. Entire towns will turn out to do their regional group dance. As a reflection of this tradition, most animes have a dance which they show in the ending credits.
In my dream, Tinker, Oilcan, and Roach of Team Tinker were dancing away, doing the 1960s dance, the Monkey. (It’s one of the simplest sixties dances; the dancer basically pumps their arms up and down in time with the music.) Roach was in the middle, between the two cousins.
Suddenly Tinker transformed into an elf. Roach startled but kept dancing, eyeing her with surprise. Pony, Stormsong, Jin and Providence popped into scene, dancing to the right of Tinker. Roach edged away but kept dancing.
Then Oilcan transformed. Roach startled in the other direction. Thorne Scratch, Merry, Baby Duck and Impatience popped in, taking up left of Oilcan. Roach was starting to look panicked.
Pop! The twins appeared in front of Roach who looked like he was trying to climb an invisible ladder out of surprise. The twins had Joy and the Jawbreakers dancing on the ground, and Nikola and Chuck Norris flying in the air in little mini hover-dance platforms.
Roach jaw-dropped. He slowly backed up until he was waaaaay in the back and then bolted out of sight.
I woke up laughing. I’m not sure what my subconscious was trying to tell me.
DRABBLE
Three Ways the Twins Do Not Meet…
I’ve always enjoyed fan fiction where the fan authors reinterpret characters and events. One of my favorites is where a main character goes through the same event but with different supporting characters for different outcomes.
As I started to plan the fifth book of the Elfhome series, one of the naturally reoccurring events is how the twins would meet various people. Who would they meet first? How would they meet? How would the established characters react to the sudden arrival of the twins? Unfortunately, while there were many possible “first meetings,” because space is limited, probably only one will make the final cut.
After two or three introduction scenes occurred to me, I decided to go ahead and write out possible fun meetings.
Be aware that the point of the exercise is merely to have fun.
None of This Really Happens!
1. How the Twins Do Not Meet Lain Shenske
Lain Shenske had discovered long ago that the only sane way to talk with her niece was face to face. On the phone, Tinker’s attention was on whatever was at hand; most of the girl’s remarks were addressed to the piece of machinery that wasn’t cooperating, or the math formula that she was scribbling, or whatever other pursuit was occupying her mind. Over time Lain had trained her niece to come and talk to Lain about mundane things. Telephone calls, thus, were when Tinker was knee deep in trouble and sinking fast. Those were crazy-making conversations with improbable events playing out and the expectati
on that Lain could actually do something to solve the problem at hand.
Over the years, Lain had learned that the first tinge of a headache often was just a forewarning that her peaceful life was about to implode. She had to train herself to wait for the phone to actually ring. Occasionally she would slip and pick up the phone before it rang. Due to some oddity in the phone system, the connection was made prior to her phone ringing. Not that it mattered much; Tinker rarely noticed that she’d been dropped into silence. She would normally launch into full expository mode before Lain could get the receiver to her ear.
But once in a great while, there would only be puzzled silence on the other side. This was one of them.
After a moment, Tinker said, “That’s weird, it didn’t ring, but the graphic changed.”
“Did you dial the right number?” Tinker asked herself.
“It came up with Lain Shenske on the connection ID,” Tinker answered herself.
Lain covered her mouth to hold in a gasp of surprise. It was Tinker’s voice from years ago, when she was a child. There had been a subtle change in timbre that Lain hadn’t realized until this moment. Puberty and years of shouting over the noise of large machinery had deepened Tinker’s voice slightly so it wasn’t child-squeaky. It wasn’t Tinker on the phone.
“Maybe you got her voicemail,” the child said. “Maybe it’s broken. We should try calling Orville again. We still don’t know if Esme told Lain anything about Alexander. If she didn’t, then Lain isn’t going to believe we’re her nieces.”
Nieces?
“And nephew,” Niece One added.
“I can hear breathing,” Christopher Robin interjected, or at least, a young nephew that sounded like him.
“My breathing?” Niece One asked while Niece Two said “Her breathing?”
“Someone else,” Christopher said firmly.