“Lucia did it.”
“Because she had a need, I imagine. She was hurt, after all. This visitor may or may not have been hurt when he came, but he does seem to have a tinge of helpful fey magic clinging to him.”
“You just said he didn’t have a guide.”
Bron looked at me with wide eyes, then said, “A guide isn’t at all the same as trace magic. You do know that, correct?”
“Actually, no, I don’t know that. I also don’t know if that’s your point.” I waited. When he didn’t say anything else I asked, “So did Lucia have trace magic when she came?”
Bron shook his head. “Lucia didn’t have the guide or the magic. I think she made a successful trip because of that trace of fey blood she carries.”
I sat up straight. “Fey blood? Is that what gives her that sparkle when you look at her sideways?”
Bron eyed me with interest. “You see that?”
I nodded.
“Floss said you saw inside. Interesting. There aren’t many of you.”
I blushed. “I didn’t even know there was one of me till Floss said it. I’m still trying to figure out what it means. For example, does it mean I’m fey?”
Bron grinned. “Aren’t we all?” he asked grandly.
“My parents would kill me if that was really true,” I said.
“Not fans of Faerie, then?”
I laughed. “That’s putting it so very mildly.”
He laughed too. “Ah, well,” he said, and he sounded vaguely rueful. Then he added, “Don’t try to figure it out. Just let it be. It might mean you’re part fey, it might mean you’re sensitive, it might only mean you’re highly perceptive. Worry about it too much and you might scare it away. Let’s worry instead about Reginald’s guest.”
The chill crept back into the room, and I knew, just knew, what Bron was saying. “It’s Major, isn’t it?”
Bron watched me carefully as he said, “It’s possible.”
I growled. “He almost followed Floss once, and he’s not happy with her because she doesn’t appreciate his charms. Not that he has any, but still. He’s furious angry with Tonio for jilting him and taking up with Max. And those are just the reasons I know about for him to dislike us.”
“So you think there are more?”
I wiggled my shoulders. “I’m sure there are, in his mind. Who knows how a brain like his works? Tonio says Major is power-mad. People like that can hate other people for almost anything. But Floss said a while ago that hate and anger weren’t really good ways to get here. She said they were skinny emotions.”
Bron held my eyes with his as he said in a careful voice, “Floss could be wrong in her assumption. Not about hate and anger in general—she’s right about that. But there are factions that could find hate and anger very attractive. People who enjoy plying those particular emotions work easily with others who are like them.”
It was obvious that I was being given a clue. “Reginald is in one of those factions, isn’t he?”
“Reginald is…unpleasant. He’s fascinated by Lucia. To put it mildly, he’s not overly fond of Fred or me. We have a long history. He and Major would complement each other, I believe. And there are others in this corner of Faerie who might latch on to that hate and anger as well.” He hesitated, then added, “Feron isn’t overly fond of his younger brother, or of me, either. And Feron and Floss have never gotten along.”
“Fred said Feron wasn’t around.”
“There are different ways of being around,” Bron said, which I thought was a slanted comment.
“Just when things were getting really good again.” I don’t think I was talking to Bron right then. I was just talking. “And Tonio. Damn, he was finally starting to really look like Tonio again. And Nicholas is so happy trying to understand those faerielights. Floss is building blue dogs. Lucia is playful, and Max—Max is singing!”
“Things are rarely perfect, and if they are it’s not for long. And you knew that there was danger in Faerie, just as there is in your world. Major, if it is Major, is only a part of that.”
I waved my hand, brushing aside the idea of fey danger. “I know, you said. Everyone said. Floss especially. But there hasn’t been much sign of it.” I sighed, then glanced sideways at him and, slightly embarrassed, said, “I wanted to believe it was all sunshine and flowers.”
Bron snorted. “You see inside things. Don’t expect me to believe you didn’t see danger.”
“Little things. That blood smell when we came through. Creepy Reginald, and if I really do see inside things, I don’t see any difference between the inside and the outside of him. That aura that surrounds you and Fred sometimes.”
“You saw that? I thought we had that under wraps.”
I opened my eyes wide. He shrugged. “It’s mostly just something that happens when there’s someone close by that we have bad feelings about. Reginald brings it out in spades.”
“More information?” I asked, when he didn’t offer anything else.
“No more. It just pays to be wary. Exactly like in your world.”
I waited, but it seemed like that was all I was going to get. I said, “You know, I wanted it to be safe here. I wanted it to be better than home. I wanted us to be happy.”
“But aren’t you? Right now, at this time, in this place, aren’t you?”
“I was,” I said, emphasis on the past tense. “Why can’t Major just quit?”
“I suppose he gets some points for stick-to-itiveness.”
I growled again. “He gets no points. Never, never, ever.” Then I brightened. “If it was hard to get through, maybe he’s hurt. Maybe he’ll die.” I sounded like an eight-year-old wishing revenge, but I didn’t care. I widened my eyes at Bron and waited for some kind of confirmation.
Floss said, “Who’s going to die? Besides me, I mean, if I don’t get coffee and something to eat.” She filled a huge mug from a tiny silver pot and snatched two tacos from the warming tray. She drenched the tacos with enough hot salsa to last me a solid week, then dropped down at our table. After finishing one taco in three bites she swallowed a big gulp of coffee and repeated, “Who’s going to die?”
“Probably no one.” I sounded morose. “Probably it’s just wishful thinking on my part.”
Floss seemed surprised when she said, “Death wishes. Not your normal thing, Persia, unless of course you were talking about Major, who’d deserve it. Or at times my older brother. But since Major’s not here, and Feron seems to be out of the area too, I don’t…”
She stopped like she’d run into a wall. “Major’s here.” It wasn’t a question. “If you’re talking about it”—and she looked at me—“it has to be Major. You’d never know if Feron was around.”
“From your previous description, Major seems to be a good guess,” Bron said in a toneless voice. “I couldn’t say about Feron.”
Floss devoured her second taco, finished her coffee, put both elbows on the table, dropped her head into her hands, and said, “Major. I should have paid more attention. Oh, fuck.”
“I heard that.” Tonio spoke quietly. “And I’m not talking about the swearing. Floss, whatever’s going on isn’t your fault.”
Floss just sighed, a deep, mournful sound that came from her boots.
“Maybe he’ll just die,” I tried again. “Or better, be so hurt he’ll leave and never try again.”
Tonio stepped in front of me, tilted his head, and said, “That doesn’t even make sense.”
I said, “Bah.”
Tonio shook his head. “I understand the sentiment, but we have to at least make logical sense. It’s a requisite for humanity. If he were that hurt, how could he move?”
“Bah,” I repeated, but this time I wasn’t disgusted. Tonio wasn’t in panic mode. He wasn’t in despair, either, which would have been worse. He was just Tonio, which made me feel that the morning had just taken a giant step toward improvement.
El Jeffery and Fred came in just as the rest of the Outlaws
clattered down the stairs. And because Tonio wasn’t despairing, once everyone was up-to-date our discussion seemed more of a chat or an intellectual exercise than anything else. I relaxed and even Floss began to seem a little less guarded.
“It’s still only a rumor, after all,” El Jeffery said. “And rumors flow around here like marsh water after a long rain.” It was many cups of coffee later, and we were all looking well-fed and a little lazy. Everyone nodded.
Then Rohan came in. He motioned Bron to the other side of the room, the side by the kitchen door. Everyone tensed again. I felt it and I started a new ride on the roller coaster of bad news. Because, really, why would Rohan be whispering if he had good news?
Bron came back to the table, and Rohan came with him, his face grim. “Rohan has a cousin,” Bron began, “who often walks through Reginald’s land. He reports a flurry of activity lately, something easy to notice. Reginald is generally very low-key, and low movement. And the cousin reports a dark-haired human, badly injured.”
“No magic or fey blood about him,” added Rohan. “It’s hard to hide what you truly are when your strength is gone. But there is definitely some kind of Faerie assistance running with him, and it doesn’t feel like it belongs to Reginald.”
Floss sat up straighter. “Feron?” she asked. “He’s just the kind to help someone like Major, although Mab knows how they would have met. But if they had met, they’d match each other perfectly. And Feron and Reginald have always had some kind of strange connection.”
“Nastiness attracts?” Fred asked.
“Of course it does,” said Bron. “But all the other things we’ve put together are guesses. Except, of course, for the fact that Reginald’s guest is a mortal.”
Rohan added. “And if he associates with Reginald, we can assume he’s an unpleasant or dangerous one. Right now he seems to spend most days sitting near the river in the sun. I believe your guess as to his identity is correct, though. One afternoon my cousin heard Reginald call him Major.”
There was one of those long seconds of silence. Then Floss shook her head hard, hard enough to make her hair fall into her eyes. I thought I heard it swish in the breeze. She looked straight at Tonio and said, “So we were right. Oh, Tonio, I’m so sorry. I got all caught up in the play. I was at home. I felt safe.” She paused and then, shoulders slumped, she added, “I should have known better.”
Tonio rubbed Floss’s left hand. He was almost casual when he said, “I told you before. Nothing that’s happened is your fault.”
“But I was supposed to be the fey guide. I was—”
Tonio interrupted her. “Floss. Really. We all knew there were risks. They’re all around us—all around everyone, really. Every day. Drop it.”
Floss sighed one more time. The glance she slid toward Tonio held that Floss–Tonio bond. He saw it, and his lips curved in a small, quirked smile. Floss sat up straight and gave him a sheepish half-grin back.
When she spoke again, sounding more like herself, she only said, “I just wish I knew who helped him. This is all too coincidental—we come here, Major comes here, and Feron isn’t in evidence. Major’s living at Reginald’s; Reginald and Feron have always seemed to think alike.” She hesitated, then finished with “It’s all so random that it shouldn’t mesh at all, and those are usually the things that are most true. Fred, is your Feron radar better than mine?”
Fred shrugged. “I haven’t been able to tell a damn thing about him since I was six.”
“That part’s all guesswork anyway,” Tonio said, waving the idea of Feron away. “For now we’ll just consider Major.”
Confirmation is an interesting thing. Now that we all knew, knew for sure that we had Major in our lives again, there was almost a sense of relief. It was as if we’d been waiting without knowing what we were waiting for.
“Maybe,” Max mused, “it’s dealing with the familiar.”
Floss made a low noise deep in her throat.
“I know, I know,” Max said. “But everything’s been turned upside down since we came here.” He looked at Floss and amended, “Well, for most of us. In some weird way this kind of puts us back on level ground.”
“Right,” Nicholas said. “Not good ground, but level ground.”
Lucia, though, looked stricken. She shook her head. “It’s too rocky to be level. Major. Reginald. Maybe your brother, Floss. Sometimes even the magic is hard.” She looked like she was going to cry. “It’s too much stuff. Too much to deal with.”
I remembered her chorus line, how happy she’d seemed. Max singing. Tonio relaxed and working. All of us adjusting. And I found that I didn’t want to be on familiar ground if it meant giving up our happiness and independence and that good little flutter in your stomach that came when you skipped into the unknown. It made me mad, this Major appearance.
I said, “He doesn’t have a right to ruin our lives. Or to run our lives. And there’s still that chance that he’ll just keel over and die.”
“Hear, hear!” El Jeffery waved his arm in the air, which made Floss giggle.
“But even if he doesn’t—oh, hell,” I said. “We didn’t let Reginald ruin everything when we first came here, and he’s been in the background all along. We just did what we do.”
“Even before, when we were doing The Bastard and the Beauty, we didn’t let Major stop us,” Nicholas added. “At least not until he proved he was dangerous, and then we adjusted.”
“True. Right. Past experiences color the present, but the colors aren’t perfect. They can shade or tint,” Max said.
“Or wash away, like chalk in a rainstorm.” Lucia, looking more like Lucia, grinned, seeming pleased with her analogy.
Floss stood up, chattering her chair legs. “Persia’s right. There’s no point spending all your time fighting when you don’t even know if you need to fight. I’ve got work to do.”
Tonio followed her, striding out of the room and saying, “You can only prepare if you know what to prepare for. I’ve got a play to build.”
Max smiled and followed Tonio. Nicholas laughed. “Now look what you’ve started, Persia. Puppet revolution.”
“Not me,” I protested. “It’s been here ever since we came up with a solid idea for the Mr. Fox story. After all, that’s a definite poke and prod. Very revolutionary.”
That made Lucia perk up. “We are the Outlaws, after all.” Then, as if everything was settled, she let her thinking take a right turn and said, “And Fred, you did say something about actually understanding the inner workings of a slide rule, didn’t you? Max is fretting about box office accounting.”
“I understand them. I just don’t have one. But I think we can find Elbe. He’s sure to have at least six different types, in various colors.” Fred swirled his yo-yo in the streams of sun, and it flashed the color of wet stones on the beach. Then he held out his hand. Lucia took it with a familiarity I hadn’t seen before, and they walked together out of Dau Hermanos.
Nicholas watched them leave. “Nice,” he said. Then he reached in his turn for my hand and said, “So. You want to help with the faerielights? I seem to have lost my work partner.”
I snuggled my hand in his. Warm, long fingers with a tiny callus on his left hand, probably from all those hours of writing law briefs. Nice, indeed.
“I’ll help,” I said, “if you’ll help with the paint finishes on the posters. Fred was working on that, too.”
Bron chuckled. “Fred. He’s more of an outlaw than he’d ever have you believe. Sometimes I think he’s more subversive than Floss. It’s just a different kind of subversion. Much more indirect.” He glanced after Floss with a fond expression and added, “Floss is so in-your-face. I like that.” He nodded. “I think she might need help with that blue dog.”
“Go, go.” Rohan shooed him away. “I’ll call you when the rush starts.”
Nicholas and I followed Bron. Pairs, I thought, pleased. Bron and Floss. Fred and Lucia. Max and Tonio. Nicholas and me. Nice. And to hell with Major.
“It must be all that residual magic Floss talked about. She said it could energize. Everything seems fine right now,” I said.
Nicholas squeezed my hand and kissed the top of my left ear. I cuddled into him and dropped my hand in his back pants pocket. Muscles moved when he walked, like words linking together into pieces of poetry. He glanced down at me and grinned. “I like that,” he said. “You should put your hand on my butt more often.”
I laughed, but he just kept walking and talking. “I agree with you, though. Everything feels fine. I know Major’s here, but what can he do? Even with Reginald, he can’t have the power he had at home. This is Faerie, after all. He’s out of his element. Reginald’s been an unpleasant thought, but not dangerous and not even around except for that one time. Major hasn’t announced himself.” He shrugged. “We’ll be fine, right?”
“Of course,” I said. “Why not?”
XX
“Karaoke isn’t quite the family style.”
Remember this, I was thinking to myself. If something happens, if everything else goes south, remember this.
It was a night cool enough to wear sweatshirts and warm enough to sit outside, which is exactly what Nicholas and I were doing. The breeze was light. The stars were out, and in Faerie that’s a sight beyond compare. I saw more stars that night than I’d seen in all my years added together. And there were twilight fireflies blinking secret messages to one another that added even more atmosphere.
“Wish I knew what they were saying.”
“That’s easy,” Nicholas said. “They’re saying, ‘I’m here. I’m one of a kind. I’m beautiful.’ Like what you say, Persia.”
I sat up straight and stared at him through the darkness. “What are you talking about? I don’t say anything like that at all.”
He swung an arm around my shoulders. When he talked I could feel his breath on my hair. “There’s a uniqueness to you that just comes through. It’s in the way you talk, the words you choose, the way your right foot makes a little curve when you walk. It’s the clothes you wear and the jewelry you don’t. It all adds up and makes a neat little Persia package that’s just…” He paused and pulled back just a bit. “…just you.” He kissed me then, a lovely, long kiss. Practice makes perfect. When we stopped he added, “I like it.”
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