Bigfootloose and Finn Fancy Free

by Randy Henderson

  “No,” Silene said. “No. He helped to free you. As did our Silver cousin here.” She motioned Sal forward. “Challa, this brightblood is named—” She glanced at Sal.

  “K’u-k’a Schken’ah Saljchuh,” Sal said.

  “Ah,” Silene said. “Perhaps it is time you claim a new name for yourself. You have risen above those.… challenges given you at birth.”

  Sal shrugged, but he blushed slightly.

  Challa glanced down at Sal’s feet. “Youself cover greatfeet with human clothings.”

  Sal shrugged again. “Protecting against much bad.”

  Challa gave two sharp, rapid cough-like barks that sounded dismissive and disapproving. “Youself hide Seeahtik pride like rabbit-heart.” She turned away. “I return home-safe now.” She strode in the direction of the nearby woods.

  “I not—” Sal began, his voice tinged with anger and defensiveness. But Silene put a calming hand on his chest.

  “I told you when we met, Challa has her own wounds. Her father, he gave her to a mate when she was very young, a mate who badly abused her. It will take time for her to trust any male of her kind.”

  Sal growled low in his throat. “Herself not know true-good Seeahtik then.”

  “Sadly,” Silene said. “But, I shall speak to her of your kind deeds and good heart.” She sounded oddly unhappy, and looked after Challa. “But for now, you may need to give her time. We all need time, I think.” She looked at me again. “I will speak to my Archon, for whatever good may come of it, and do what I can for my clan and cousins. I wish you luck in whatever you choose.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I—good luck to you, too.”

  Silene gave a single nod, then said to Dunngo, “Come. Let’s return home.”

  They followed after Challa, across the gravel road and up the hill toward the forest, headed for the nearest fairy path.

  “You know,” I said. “I’m beginning to think Challa’s wasn’t the spirit at Elwha that the Kin Finder pointed to.”

  *Brilliant, Sherlock,* Alynon replied.

  “What youself say?” Sal asked, his gaze still following after Silene and her party.

  “I said, that Silene is pretty amazing, huh?”

  Sal nodded, then blinked, and looked down at me. “Herself is like summer storming. Warm skywater and pretty sunglow, then youself get badhit by lightning.”

  “Uh huh,” I said. “Well, I don’t have my equipment, so I can’t know for sure, but—you know what, never mind. I think you’re doing just fine without my help. Sal, I think if you follow Silene—and Challa—back to her steading and spend some time there, you will find the love you were looking for. You don’t need me. None of you do.”

  Reggie gave me a skeptical sideways glance, but didn’t say anything.

  Sal shrugged. “I will try. It not be so bad maybe to stay with other brightbloods for a shortwhile.”

  “There you go,” I said, and slapped him on the back, which was a bit like slapping a wool-covered boulder.

  Sal followed after Silene, and Reggie led me back to the parking lot of the Game Farm, where we found his motorcycle waiting, but not my hearse. Was that professional courtesy for Reggie or dislike for me?

  “Need a lift?” Reggie asked.

  “Looks like,” I said.

  Reggie straddled his motorcycle, and grabbed his helmet off the handlebar. “Look, Finn, I understand why you don’t want to go back to the Other Realm,” he said. “Hell, I wouldn’t go. But don’t fool yourself. If you don’t go, if you just let Silene give her story to the Archon and leave it up to him to do something about it, then you’re putting the life of your brother and Vee in his hands. And if war does break out, will you be okay knowing you might have stopped it?”

  “There’s got to be a better way.”

  “Name it,” Reggie said.

  “We could.… take off and nuke the Other Realm from orbit?”

  *Not funny. At all,* Alynon said.

  Ah, hells. “Fine,” I said. “I can’t think of anything better. Yet.”

  *YES!* Alynon shouted. *I’m going home!*

  “Yippee ki yay.” I sighed.

  Mother frakker.

  21

  Miss You Much

  Waterfront veggie pizzas covered our dining room table, my first choice for a last meal. Their delicious smell filled the room and made my stomach rumble as I said good-bye to my family again, and for possibly the last time.

  Of course, I didn’t put it that way. I just informed them that I would be going into the Other Realm to speak with the Silver Court.

  Silence fell around the table.

  Dawn sat on my right. I couldn’t tell if she was still upset with me or not. She’d played it cool when I first walked in, as if there’d been no doubt I’d survive a confrontation with a jorōgumo, but she hadn’t been overly affectionate, either. I worried the news that I would be leaving again, risking my life yet again, would not help the situation, but couldn’t bring myself to face her yet. I turned and looked in the other direction instead.

  Mort appeared confused. He wore one of his fifty-dollar black T-shirts that normally fit him as if tailor made, and I couldn’t help but notice how loose it hung on him, how unwell he still looked. Who would kick him in the butt when I was gone? Who would keep him from driving himself or the family business into the ground out of some impulsive need or fear?

  Father put olives on two of his fingers and waggled them at each other like finger puppets. And Mattie looked angry, as if I’d broken a promise to her. She stabbed in a distracted but forceful manner at her food with her fork, and wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  Gods, what would happen to them if Mort lost the family business, or worse, his life? Mattie had taken on much of the responsibility for Father before I’d returned. Hell, she’d taken on most of the responsibility in the household, period. I’d tried to take some of that off of her so she could enjoy more of a normal teenage life—or at least as normal as a teen in a family of necromancers can have—and Pete helped out as well, but neither of them were exactly in a position to take responsibility for Father if anything happened to me and Mort both.

  Sammy pushed up her thick-rimmed black glasses. “There’s got to be a better way,” she said, and the light from the chandelier glinted off her nose stud as her nostrils flared. She leaned back and crossed her arms, giving me a stare that said I was a sucker, or an idiot, or possibly both. She might look after Father, Mattie, and Pete, but she would resent it and it would be from a distance. Putting aside her allergy to magic, she would not be willing to leave the city and move back to Port Townsend, two hours and a ferry ride away from her friends, her job, her girlfriend.

  Pete and Vee exchanged worried glances, and Pete’s brow furrowed. “You said before you couldn’t go back there even if you wanted.”

  “Yeah, well—” I had no response.

  I turned last to Dawn, and met her eyes.

  She took my hand and squeezed it. “Finn, if you were going off to fight another monster, I admit, I’d probably kick your ass myself. But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you wouldn’t be going anywhere near that Other Realm place if there was any friggin’ way in hell to avoid it. So I’m guessing there’s a pretty damn good reason?”

  I managed not to look at Pete and Vee, and just said, “Yeah. A lot of lives may depend on it.”

  Sammy made a disgusted noise. “So let the ARC handle it. Hell, they should be kissing your ass after exiling you and all that’s happened, not making you do their job for them.”

  “The ARC isn’t making me do anything,” I said.

  “Yes, they are,” Sammy said. “By not doing anything, they’re making you do something.”

  “Yeah,” Mattie said. “Auntie Sam’s right. If there’s really lives at stake, why aren’t they going into the Other Realm?”

  “Because,” I said, still avoiding Pete and Vee’s eyes. “It’s not arcana lives at stake. It’s the Fey. And brightbloods.”
/>   “Oh,” Vee said.

  “What does that mean?” Pete asked.

  Sammy looked from Pete to me, and her expression softened as she uncrossed her arms. “Shit.” She sighed. “You’re sure there’s no other way?”

  “Not one that I can trust and sleep okay tonight. None that I could live with if—” I glanced at Pete, and quickly away again. I shrugged.

  Mort shook his head. “I know this may sound a bit insensitive, but, well, have you considered that a few Fey and feybloods losing their lives isn’t necessarily the worst thing that could happen?”

  “What the fuck, Mort?” Sammy snapped.

  “Dad!” Mattie said.

  He raised his hands. “Look, I’m just saying, for all we know, worrying about the Fey dying is like, well, worrying about the characters in your dream dying because you woke up. But they sure as hell want to kill us, and that’s real.”

  *Your brother is a cretin,* Alynon said.

  Grandfather’s influence, I thought back.

  “It’s not just about the Fey,” I said.

  “So?” Mort said. “Feybloods aren’t much better. Well, obviously, I don’t mean Pete and Vee and folks raised normal who didn’t choose to be infected. But real feybloods? How many times in the last three months has our family been attacked by them? Those witches, the sasquatches, the waerwolves, that jorōgumo—and that’s just us. I think maybe there’s getting to be too many of them if the DFM can’t control them anymore. And, well, I know this might sound cold or whatever, but let’s face it, if a bunch of feybloods were to pass on, that wouldn’t exactly be bad for business.”

  “Dude!” Sammy said. “Every time I start to have a little hope for you, you go and pull some messed-up junk like this.”

  “Seriously,” I agreed. “Mother taught us better than that.”

  Mort looked offended. Oh the irony. “Seriously, you’re all going to pretend like you haven’t had similar thoughts? What, you all love the Fey and feybloods now?”

  “Some of them,” I said. “The ones who deserve it.”

  *Aww, thanks,* Alynon said.

  Don’t make assumptions, I thought back.

  Mattie nodded agreement. “Dad, I know you’re not trying to be racist or anything. You’re just, uh—” She looked to me for help. But I had nothing, and gave her an apologetic shrug.

  Mort snorted. “Racist? Seriously? Come on, let’s just be honest for a second. If Mother had gone through what we’ve gone through, even she—”

  Father suddenly stopped playing with the olives and looked at Mort, his face serious. “Go to your room.”

  Mort looked at Mattie. “Get him some candy.” He turned back to face me. “I don’t think you all—”

  Father slapped the table, making the dishes jump.

  “I said go to your room!”

  Mort turned an annoyed expression toward Father, but the expression faded when their eyes met. There was an awkward moment of silence, then Mort snorted. “Whatever.” He grabbed his napkin from his lap, and tossed it onto the table. “I don’t feel like sitting here anyway, not with you all pretending like I’m some kind of monster for speaking the hard truth.” He gave me a dismissive wave. “I was just trying to keep you from throwing your life away for a bunch of homicidal half-bloods. Sorry for caring.”

  He strode from the room in classic pout mode.

  “Wow,” Sammy said. “Every time I think he’s outdone himself—” She shook her head.

  I leaned toward Father, putting my hand out to him on the table though he was too far to reach. “Father? Are you okay?”

  Father looked at his hands, and the broken remains of olive that clung to his fingertips. “They’re falling apart,” he said. “Why can’t all my fingers be on the same hand?” He wriggled his fingers.

  “It’ll be okay,” I said. Gods, I’d need to have Mattie watch him, make sure he didn’t try to invent a way to sew his hands together or something.

  Father looked up at me, and grinned. “Okee smokey artichokey, you better learn to dance the polky.”

  I tried to keep the tears back. But they broke free, and then I began sobbing in a series of explosive releases as though I were being punched in the gut. It was as raw as the roof of my mouth after a box of Cap’n Crunch, and unexpected as the Spanish Inquisition.

  Dawn made reassuring sounds, and pulled me into a hug. Mattie, Pete, and Vee all asked if I was okay, and what they could do.

  It was all too much. My family’s needs. My father’s madness. The uncertain promise of me and Dawn. The unbelievably suck-a-rific choice I faced: to return to the Other Realm and risk potential destruction or permanent exile; or to possibly allow the Shadows to start a war that would destroy thousands of lives, including my brother’s and Vee’s? And I hadn’t really had time to process or recover from the fighting and Talking drains of the past couple of days, which probably didn’t help.

  I felt embarrassed, and frustrated, and nothing like a champion of the brightbloods or leader of my family. I wanted to just go to my room and curl up in my bed, to spend the next week eating junk food and playing games on my Commodore and leaving everything and everyone else be. But the love and comfort of my family helped quiet the chaos in my head and heart, and I soon regained control. I rubbed at my eyes and nose.

  *I am sorry, truly,* Alynon said. *You know I wish to go home, but, well, I understand. I think I may even miss your family.*

  I laughed, and wiped apologetically at the wet spot on Dawn’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” I said to everyone. “Not exactly the manliest reaction.”

  Dawn snorted. “Are you kidding? That was damn sexy. Especially the boogers you left on my shirt.”

  “Gee, thanks!” I said.

  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” Sammy said. “It’s better than getting drunk and making an idiot of yourself, which is my normal reaction to stress.”

  Pete nodded. “Doctor Weirmedice says what you don’t let out in a good way now will just come out in a bad way later.”

  Mattie looked up in the direction of our bedrooms. “I’m sorry my dad is kind of a jerk sometimes. He just—” She shrugged, and I felt fresh tears building at the clear disappointment on her face. How much must it suck for a child when they can’t make excuses for their parent’s bad behavior anymore, even to themselves?

  “We know, Mat-cat,” Sammy said. “Now, hero boy, is there anything we can do to help you get ready?”

  “Actually,” I said, “I do need to do a couple of things. Vee, maybe we can work a little on recovering my memories before I leave?”

  “Oh! Sure,” Vee replied in a surprised voice.

  And I would need some time to absorb some magic from the family’s stores of mana. It would be nice to test out my theory about the Simon artifact as well—“over there, other there” Father had said—but I couldn’t risk it. I’d arrange for Pete to test it once I was gone.

  One memory session, three-fourths Thoth of mana absorbed, and lots of family hugs later, Dawn and I made our way to her house to get her car keys.

  “Thank you for not trying to leave me behind,” Dawn said.

  “Of course! I’m just glad you want to go with me at all, after last night, and everything that’s happened.” It would be nice to not be alone with my thoughts and fears for the ride there.

  Dawn halted, and pulled me to a stop beside her in the noon warmth. “About last night, it wasn’t just about us, or Heather, or—” She stopped, and shook her head, and tears built up in her eyes.

  “Dawn, what’s wrong?” I asked, stepping closer and putting my hands on her arms.

  “I tried playing guitar yesterday, and I couldn’t. Not for long.” Her hand went to her shoulder. “I don’t know if it was the damage, or the way it was healed or what, but this is tight, and hurts when I try to strum for long.”

  “Oh. Oh shit. Dawn, I’m so sorry. And then that record company wants to hear you play—”

  She nodded. “I was just upse
t, and scared. And a little angry at you. But it wasn’t your fault.”

  “No, I don’t blame you. If I hadn’t gone sticking my nose where it didn’t belong—”

  “Stop,” Dawn said. “I’m proud of what you’re doing, it makes me love you more. I just needed a little time to process is all.”

  I pulled her into a hug. “Still, I’m sorry.” I stepped back. “Maybe Amber can play while you sing, just for a while? She’s always joking about forming the New Dawn cover band.”

  “I’ve already talked to her,” Dawn said. “She’s going to help with my gig Tuesday night. And the ladies at the massage school said they’d help with some massage, and pointed me to a physical therapist who might take barter. I’m not asking you to fix this, Finn, I’m just letting you know what’s going on so you understand.”

  I nodded. “Okay.” We continued walking to her house. “You really sure you want to come with me? I’d understand if you wanted the time to rehearse with Amber.”

  “Nice try, baby, but I’m taking you there, and you’re going to hold me in front of that friggin’ romantic waterfall, and rehearse something a hell of a lot better than a song.”

  “As you wish,” I said, and smiled.

  * * *

  The regional ARC headquarters was located beneath Snoqualmie Falls and the hydro-power plant, on the “mainland.” It was to the lighthouse ARC facility what a state supreme court was to a local county court.

  Western Washington isn’t so much an area of land as a collection of hills, plateaus, peninsulas, and islands—not to mention political, cultural, and economic islands—divided by inlets, lakes, straights, wetlands, and valleys, with countless bridges, ferries, and narrows connecting them all. So it took almost three hours, a ferry ride, and crossing a floating bridge to reach the Snoqualmie Falls.

  Dawn excitedly informed me during the drive over that Snoqualmie Falls Lodge—or Salish Lodge, as I guess it was now called—had been featured in a show called Twin Peaks. I didn’t know about that, but I did remember that they made an amazing breakfast. I hoped that was still true. And that I had a chance to test it out when I got back from the Other Realm.

  We pulled into the parking lot just after 3:00 P.M., then strolled to the Falls viewpoint.