Bigfootloose and Finn Fancy Free

by Randy Henderson

*No.*

  I sighed. Fine. So if the Shadows drive a wedge between the Silver Court and the ARC, and remove the Silver brightblood’s greater number and freedoms—

  *Then the Shadows shall gain true advantage.*

  Gods. If there really was a Fey war, even just between the Silver and Shadows, Pete and Vee would be forced to align with a Demesne if they hadn’t already, or be held in an ARC compound. Neither the ARC nor the Fey would tolerate undeclared brightbloods during a real war. And whatever Demesne they aligned with would expect them to fight for their new Aalbright masters if needed. Lose lose.

  *Please,* Alynon said. *You must help me warn my Demesne.*

  “Yeah, I got that.”

  The door buzzed, and Reggie led Silene into the room. A DFM agent closed it from outside, locking us back in.

  Reggie shook his head at the door. “Beast cops. They just love when they get to play at being real enforcers.”

  “Beast cops?” Silene asked, her tone dangerous.

  “Shit, sorry,” Reggie said, looking at her. “It’s just a name that we Pax enforcers use for the Department of Feyblood Management sometimes. I shouldn’t have used it.”

  Silene gave a dismissive wave. “I would expect no better.”

  Reggie opened his mouth as if to reply, then sighed, and just said, “Yeah, I guess not.” He crossed to me. “So, you figure out what’s going on?”

  “Maybe.”

  I explained to Reggie and Silene what Alynon had shared with me.

  Silene’s eyes widened. “So it is war for true? Bright, I pray you are wrong. It would mean death and suffering for too many brightbloods. We cannot let this happen.”

  Reggie grunted. “Well, I’ll talk to my commander. Frankly, we’ve already noticed a pattern of Silver feyblood troubles, and thought it might be a sign that the Silver were getting a bit cocky and testing their strength. We can flag them for deeper investigation though, look for signs they were set up like that alchemist attack. But—” He hesitated.

  “What?” Silene and I asked together.

  “Shit. To be honest, if the Fey are fighting amongst themselves, and the feybloods, too, well, the ARC might see that as a good thing. I mean, long as it doesn’t interrupt the flow of magic, and no arcana get hurt by the fallout, they’re likely to just let it play out, at least until they see a way we can gain something from interfering.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I asked.

  “You are surprised?” Silene asked. “Then you do not know your own kind well.”

  “Maybe not,” I replied. “But how is it in arcana interests to let the Shadows wipe out the Silver Court? Don’t they remember the last Fey-Arcana War, when the Silver helped us?”

  “Of course,” Reggie said. “But friends and enemies change, villains become allies and allies turn enemy. Avalon. The Germans and Japanese. The Hidden Vale. Al Qaeda, the French Canadian unicorns—”

  “Okay, I get it,” I said. “But the Shadows Fey, they aren’t Germans or Japanese, or any of those others you named. They’re the darkest side of every culture they drew their existence from.”

  Reggie raised his hands. “Hey, preaching to the choir, man.” He glanced to the mirrored wall, then leaned in closer and said in a low tone, “I’m just saying, the ARC are all about protecting arcana interests. And letting the Fey weaken themselves in an internal battle will seem like a great idea. Hell, there may even be some who will try to help speed up the process.”

  I knew from experience that was true. And having spent twenty-five years being fed on by the Fey, a part of me understood that sentiment. But knowing what it would mean for Petey and Vee, not to mention Sal and Silene and the other brightbloods I’d met—I sighed. “We have to at least try to stop it.”

  “Sure,” Reggie said. “But I suggest you don’t try to save the world. That’s too much. Just focus on what’s in front of you: freeing these brightbloods, and protecting your family.”

  Silene shook her head. “I am losing sight of what we fight for. We may free Challa and Dunngo only for them to die in pointless battle with our Shadows cousins.”

  She went to the mirror and looked at her own reflection, but her expression and manner were more ones of trepidation than vanity.

  *Hello?* Alynon said, his tone frustrated. *I know one thing you could do.*

  “Oh, yeah,” I said. “Alynon wants to get a message to the local Silver ambassador, and the Archon if possible.”

  Reggie frowned a second, and said, “I’m not sure that would work.”

  *Damn it!* Alynon screamed in my head, causing me to wince. *I’m not trying to plot against the ARC here, I’m just trying to warn my people!*

  “Why wouldn’t it work?” I asked through gritted teeth.

  “Well, something this big, I don’t think a secondhand opinion from a changeling is going to get the results you want, and especially not from Alynon. No offense, but from what I understand, he isn’t exactly held in high regard to begin with.”

  I knew from hints Alynon had dropped that he wasn’t a favorite child of the Silver Court. And under other circumstances, I would have jumped at the chance to have Reggie share what he knew. But I was more worried about what Reggie had implied.

  “What are you saying?” I asked.

  Reggie rubbed at his head, obviously not happy at the thoughts running around inside it—not a good sign. “Shoot. I don’t see many options, son. If you really want to stop the Shadows, and protect your brother and Vee from being drafted into a Fey war, you’re going to need to go into the Other Realm and convince the Fey directly.”

  My knees went wobbly, and I fumbled the nearby folding chair out from beneath the small steel table just in time to collapse into it.

  No no no. This couldn’t be happening.

  *He’s right,* Alynon said, eagerly. *We—you have to present your evidence directly to the Colloquy!*

  Of course Alynon would be all for it. But if we went to the Other Realm, there was no guarantee I wouldn’t be trapped in his body.

  “No,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “There has to be another way.”

  “It sucks, no lie,” Reggie said, “But you’d be going as a free arcana this time. You would be in control of what memories you shared, and when.”

  I shook my head. “The Archon could go. Or … Silene,” I said, looking up at her, feeling a bit of a coward for saying it. But she was a vassal of the Silver Court, after all. Didn’t it make more sense for her to go?

  “Feybloods cannot share their memories,” Reggie said. “If they could, there would be no need for the Fey to feed on human memory.”

  “I thought they could,” I replied, “but it just didn’t give the Fey whatever … essence or whatever they needed.”

  “It goes beyond that,” Silene said. “It is a very … sensitive matter that we do not like to talk about.”

  “But—”

  *Let it go, Finn,* Alynon said. *Do not shame her to satisfy your curiosity.*

  I blinked, surprised at the sharpness of Alynon’s words.

  But I wasn’t ready to jump into the Other Realm either. Whatever Reggie said about me being free this time, once there I would be at the mercy of the Fey, who apparently still blamed me for the death of their wardens killed during my transfer from exile. They might find some excuse to hold me in exile yet again, to feed on my memories—

  The door buzzed, and Sal was led inside before the DFM agent left and the door closed again.

  Sal tugged unhappily at the collar around his neck. The DFM had confiscated my spirit trap and skeleton key this time, so I couldn’t remove it if I wanted to. Silene’s collar had been removed already, either because she wasn’t considered a threat here sealed away from any plants, or they hoped she’d prove herself a threat.

  “Arcana have bad manners,” Sal muttered, and shuffled uncomfortably. I realized he did not have his combat boots on. The DFM agents must have removed them to make sure they hid no weapons or artifacts. Or p
erhaps just to make Sal feel more vulnerable during questioning.

  Sal’s feet were, well, not big feet.

  They weren’t small by human standards. He would probably stretch Pete’s shoes. But for a sasquatch, they were absolutely tiny.

  Sal caught my glance, and his face blushed red where it was not covered by hair.

  “You sound surprised,” Silene said, still looking in the mirror. From that angle, she probably had not noticed Sal’s feet. “Did you expect better treatment?”

  “No.” Sal sighed. “But still it makes I heartsad. And bad-mad.”

  “I’m sorry, Sal,” I said, still hunched over in the chair. “You didn’t ask for any of this. I was supposed to be helping you, not getting you involved in more trouble.”

  Sal grunted. “Iself be Seeahtik. Weself be bear-strong and rock-tough, so allfolks only bring us trouble, or ken that war-making is all-and-every Seeahtik are liking.” He shrugged, and I saw his gaze flicker briefly over to Silene, who seemed still fixated on some aspect of her own appearance. “Even otherself brightbloods think so.”

  Silene blinked, turned to Sal, and said in a defensive tone, “Well, it is all your tribe seems to do, fighting, and destroying.”

  “No,” Sal replied. “War-making is all otherselves will give Seeahtik the bright to do.”

  Silene crossed her arms. “Well, maybe if you refused, and—” She stopped, her gaze falling on Sal’s feet.

  Sal blushed red again, and shuffled uncomfortably, looking down at the ground. “I not wanting to bigfight with youself,” he said.

  “No, of course,” Silene said. “I just—” She put a hand on her chest. “I understand what it is to have others expect only one thing from you, to prune and bind your life to fit their design. It is not easy to set your own path, sometimes.”

  Sal looked up, and gave Silene a grateful smile.

  Silene turned to me and Reggie. “We shall be set free, shan’t we?”

  “Yes,” Reggie said. “We were within our legal rights to defend ourselves. And once the DFM’s necromancer Talks to Hiromi and Ned, and confirms my report, they should release your clan members as well.”

  “Good,” Silene said, and put one hand to the smooth glass of the mirror. “I do not like being so separated from the growing, living world.”

  She did look pale, and weary. She had not been given time to recover from her healing of Reggie and the battle with Hiromi before being cut off from the natural world.

  “I am having smallgift for youself,” Sal said, and crossed to Silene in two great strides. He dug into the fur above his stomach, and then held out his hand. He held a twig with dried flowers on it.

  “What—” Silene began, then blinked, and looked up at Sal’s eyes with a surprised expression as he hunched over her. “Is that a brightlily?”

  Sal shrugged, an expression more of shyness than uncertainty. “It was in sister-mine’s remember box. I heart-wished to give youself bigthanks for healing Iself.”

  Silene gently took the dried flowers from Sal’s hand, and closed her eyes for a few seconds.

  From one of the dried flowers grew up a single, long stalk, and six pink and lavender bell-shaped flowers grew from the end.

  Silene opened her eyes, and a tear ran down her cheek as she looked at the flowers. “I thought the last brightlily had been destroyed years ago.” She looked up at Sal again. “Thank you.” With her free hand, she took his shoulder and pulled him down, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

  Sal blushed red yet again, although this time he definitely didn’t look miserable. He shuffled, clearly uncertain of what to do or say.

  “Brightlily?” I asked to break the tension. “Does it have a Fey spirit in it?”

  Silene’s gaze lingered on Sal a second as if trying to puzzle something out, then she blinked, glanced at me and held up the lily.

  “What? Oh, no. But when consumed by a brightblood, it allows us to more clearly … feel the bright within us. Some used it to gain a greater wisdom about ourselves, about what of our natures is the bright and what is other. Some used it to gain greater harmony with their bright nature.”

  “Wow, sounds like therapy in convenient and tasty flower form,” I said.

  “If you say.” She looked down at the plant. “But it was never an abundant plant, and it was greatly consumed once its nature was learned. Much of it was destroyed as the human cities spread up into the hills. And some of the … darker-natured brightbloods, who did not like what the flower showed them and resented or feared that others might grow stronger or wiser from its use, they destroyed what little remained. It is always a sad thing when a green cousin is lost to us forever, but doubly so when its life brings good into the world.”

  The door buzzed, and Vincent entered the room still dressed in his ill-fitting tactical gear as if we might suddenly attack him. Which, I guess, wasn’t an unreasonable concern given recent events. He set a duffel on the table and opened it, revealing Sal’s boots, my necklaces, and Reggie’s gear.

  “You’re all free to go,” he said, sounding as disappointed as a destitute dentist who’d just learned Halloween had been canceled.

  “What about my clan—” Silene began.

  “The other Silvers are free to go as well. However, we have sent a bill to your Archon for the damages and time resulting from your actions, as well as the costs for our investigation and necromantic questioning. Whatever the jorōgumo may have done to incite violence in the siren, you and your feybloods were not forced to threaten the alchemist’s business and life to begin with.”

  “We threatened no one!” Silene said. “We are within our rights to protest—”

  Reggie put a hand on her arm. “A fight for another day,” he said. “You and your feybloods need to return to your steading and heal.”

  I turned to Agent Vincent. “Is the Silver ambassador here? Zenith? We really should warn the Fey about what’s going on.”

  Vincent scratched at his crew cut. “She’s not stepping anywhere near this place. The Silver’s trying to play that we are conspiring against them.”

  Reggie slid his pistol into its shoulder holster, and said, “Another bluff for negotiating purposes, or for real this time?”

  “For real. They know we’ve begun reducing their freedom of movement and access to resources, given the recent troubles. And then, of course, there was the attack on that Zenith chick, and the fact their Archon’s now claiming he never sent any order to ward and burn that siren’s body.”

  “Why am I not surprised,” I muttered, then asked, “If the Archon didn’t, then who did?”

  “That’s for the Archon to figure out,” Vincent said. “It’s his communications that’s been breached, and his feyblood who got burned up. And his purse that’s going to pay, regardless.”

  *Could be Hiromi faked the message somehow,* Alynon said. *To cover up what she did to Veirai.*

  Maybe.

  Vincent looked at Reggie. “It’ll be for the ARC to deal with the Fey anyway. We just deal with their stepkids here.” He nodded in the direction of Sal and Silene.

  Sal growled.

  “Right,” Reggie said. “Come on, Finn, we’ve still got work to do.”

  Frak. This was supposed to be the end of the job. The jorōgumo threat was ended. Challa was free for Sal to pursue, and we’d cleared Silene’s name. Everyone was supposed to be happy, and Pete ideally welcomed to join the Silver. Instead, we now faced war.

  I followed Reggie out into the hallway. Silene followed gracefully behind me, and Sal ducked through the doorway, with Vincent bringing up the rear. I was blindfolded, then led by Reggie with the others.

  “Maybe we should go visit the Silver Archon,” I said to Reggie as I followed blindly through the hallways. “He might find it hard to stick his head in the sand with your boot on his neck. He could speak to the Silver Court, convince them of what’s going on.”

  Nobody spoke for a minute. Finally, Reggie replied, “Sounds like the
Silver Archon ain’t exactly feeling trusting of arcana right now, but for all we know the Archon really did order the siren burned and is attempting to use this situation as some kind of power play. He didn’t exactly move heaven and earth to handle this situation with Silene’s clan, or the jorōgumo. But even if he is legit, he’d be putting his own position on the line to accuse the Shadows of conspiracy, not to mention raising questions in his Fey patrons of whether he can handle the position given him. I just don’t see how you could trust him to help.”

  We reached the exit. Vincent pulled off my blindfold, removed Sal’s collar, and waved us out the door to the Game Farm loop road. Late morning sunlight slapped me in the eyeballs. I blinked at my watch: 10:45 A.M.

  So far, not my favorite Monday ever. I wanted to just shoot the whole day down.

  And Pete and Vee had only one day left to find a solution that didn’t suck.

  As my sight adjusted, the others joined us outside, and I saw that Dunngo and Challa waited for us. The dwarf moved back and forth along the road, and the sharp gravel wriggled up into place along his skin to form a spiky exterior. Challa paced anxiously near the entrance, waiting for us, her glamour shimmering around her like a heat wave, making her appear like a bear to anyone without the ability to see through it.

  “Brightsister!” Silene said, and embraced Challa. She stepped back. “My heart shines to see you. How do you fare?”

  Challa looked at Reggie and me before saying, “Iself not hurt. But big-need home.”

  “Yes. I think we all could use some rest,” Silene said. Dunngo rode his dirt wave up beside Challa, his mosaic head of colored stone level with Silene’s chest. Silene put a hand on his shoulder. “I think we shall take a break and think again on how best to fight for our cause. And—” She glanced at me. “We may need to prepare for greater troubles to come.”

  I couldn’t meet the question in her eyes, and looked away.

  Damn it, I was not responsible for every person I met. Not even those affected by my grandfather’s legacy.

  There had to be a better way to help Petey.

  Dunngo grumbled, and I saw he was staring at me. “Is Gramaraye trouble?”