“An amazing performance, Meester Doyle,” the Master said.
“Spellbinding, wasn’t it?” Keith asked, pleased with himself.
“I was so proud of you,” Diane said. “I couldn’t stop biting my nails. All of those men had guns, but you held them off.” Her eyes were shining. “You’re a hero.”
Keith bit his lip. The engagement ring was in his backpack, not twenty steps away in the kitchen. He wanted to go get it and give it to her.
He was saved by the appearance of Marm. The brewer held a pitcher of mead high above his head.
“A toast to the great and terrible wizard Keith Doyle!”
“No,” Keith said, as glasses were passed from hand to hand. He gave Diane a regretful glance. It wasn’t their moment. He wanted everything to be just right. The right time would come. He was just happy she was by him again. “A toast to all of you!” He stood up, holding his unicorn mug aloft. “To the finest captive workforce a disgusting exploitative capitalist ever had!”
“Hear, hear!” Diane echoed, giggling, as she took a sip of mead.
The elves cheered.
***
Chapter 36
“Will ye no’ put him somewhere?” Curran asked Holl sourly, grabbing his great-grandson as he came through the kitchen just after noon. “He’s vibrating like yon tunin’ fork, and gettin’ in e’eryun’s way.”
May the first dawned brilliantly in a near cloudless sky over the Hollow Tree farmhouse. Long before the fingers of light began to stretch catlike over the land, Keith was out of bed, getting the site ready for the party. He’d mowed the lawn to smooth velvet the day before, and pulled up weeds anywhere he thought guests might sit. Around the grass still wet with dew he set dozens of flower arrangements growing in pots that had spent the night next to his bed in the barn in case it was too cold for them outside overnight. As for preparing the hot food, he filled with charcoal the two barrel-sized grills he’d wheedled the loan of from the local Lions club. Lighter fluid and cooking tools were laid out and rearranged a dozen times before he finally let that task rest. Cold food and drink would be arranged buffet style on four of the tables, two at the outer edge of the meadow near the grills, and two close to the house. Several of the youngsters had promised Keith they would help keep the platters filled.
The Folk had offered him the use of all the refectory tables they used for daily meals, and built a dozen trestle-foot tables and two dozen benches to supplement those and the fifty lawn chairs Keith had rented for the occasion. He’d spent two hours dragging all the furniture around the field until the others woke up. The moment breakfast was finished he started urging everyone to help. They agreed willingly, but Keith was so nervous he gave the same jobs to several people, and issued conflicting orders to several others. The whole house, inside and out, was draped with garlands of flowers. Then greenery. Then flowers again. Then both. He changed his mind a dozen times over the decoration. The Folk put up with him for five hours, then found other tasks to busy themselves. There was really nothing more to do than wait.
“He’s fussed over my rolls and loaves a hundred times already,” Keva said with a peevish frown. She shoved her hands in the deep pocket of her spotless white apron. “I’m ready to lock him in the woodshed.”
“It won’t help,” Dunn said. He and Pat had arrived around noon with a digital movie camera and a bag of spare batteries. “He’ll just gnaw his way out through the floor.”
“I’ll take care of him,” Holl assured them. “Calm down, widdy,” he said, going over to grab Keith’s arm. He pulled him to a chair and made him sit down. “There’s no more to do. No one is expected until mid-afternoon. Everything is ready and more than ready. By the way, that’s a fine shirt you have on. New is it?” He turned up the lapel to examine the light colored fabric.
“Light blue is the color of joy,” Catra assured Keith. “And the polo-neck pattern is becoming to you.”
“But what if they can’t find their way here?” Keith asked, unwilling to be distracted. He felt as though he ought to be wringing his hands. “What if they miss the farm and end up in Springfield?”
“We’ve put up signs for those to see who can,” Dennet said, touching his finger to the side of his nose. “Never fear. They’ll be here in good time.”
“Will they all come?” Keith looked forlorn. “I’ve wanted this party for so long. I’d hate to be wasting everyone’s time for half a dozen pixies.” Hastily he thrust out a hand. “Not that I won’t be grateful to have pixies, I mean. I just hope more show up than that.”
“Ye’ve half a hundred replies,” Enoch said, trudging through toward the kitchen. “If any of the legends you’ve been filling yer head with for your whole life exist, they’ve got a firmer idea of courtesy than most of your relatives.”
“That’s true,” Keith said with raised eyebrows. “My aunt had to call most of the guest list when my cousin got married because no one responded.” A new look of horror filled his face. “If they all come, we could run out of food! What if we don’t have enough food?”
“We have enough food,” Diane exclaimed. In honor of the good weather, she wore an aqua blouse and a swirling skirt of green and blue plaids that went well with Keith’s shirt. “There’s a hundred pounds of cold cuts on trays in the coolers, about twice that of sliced veggies and dip, chips, potato salad, coleslaw and three whole cheeses. At the risk of airing my education, that’ll serve about three hundred people.”
Keith jumped up, and swept Diane into his arms for a kiss. “You’re wonderful.”
Diane smiled, catlike with contentment. “Don’t thank me now. You’ll get the bill tomorrow.”
Holl blessed Diane’s common sense. They were well matched, he with his inexhaustible energy and good will, and she with her peaceful, centered mind and kindly heart. He wondered how long it would be before Keith stopped touching the small, square box drawing an outline on his hip pocket, and brought it into the open. The Folk were looking forward to the party, indeed, but they were hoping for further reasons to celebrate. Ah, it looked as though the moment was coming.
Keith dropped his eyes, a bit shyly, and took Diane’s hand. His other hand went to the pocket. “Diane, I …” She looked up at him with an air of expectation.
Suddenly, Holl felt a rhythmic thrum through his feet that caused the floor to vibrate. He wondered if Marm or someone else was banging the cellar walls with a huge hammer. But it was no one in the house. Marcy, pretty as a spring flower in white blouse and lilac pants, emerged from the kitchen with an expression of astonishment on her face. Enoch, Keva, Marm, Dennet, Dola, and all the others were behind her, wide-eyed. Silently, meaningfully, Enoch pointed back over his shoulder.
Loath to interrupt, Holl reached over and tapped Keith on the shoulder.
“Widdy, your guests are arriving. Do you not want to greet them?”
“Yeah!” Keith jumped as though he’d been stung by a bee, then stood, torn between his first love and his true love.
Diane looked amused and resigned. “Go on. You’ve been waiting for a year to see if anyone’s going to show up. I want to see for myself what you’ve attracted.”
“Well, come along, then,” Holl said, his round face creased with amusement. Loud pounding resounded through the house. “There’s one at the door. Why don’t you answer it?”
The knocking came again. Boom. Boom. Boom. Keith bounded past Holl, grinning so wide he could have swallowed his ears. His first guest! He threw open the door and looked out. And up. And up. And up.
“H’o,” said the enormous, black-bearded face on top of the huge body high atop the tree-trunk legs. “I’m Fet.” He held out to the astonished human a six-pack of full-sized beer kegs. “Gift. W’re do I put?” Keith gawked for a moment, then turned to Holl, his wits recovered in an instant.
“Don’t you think it’s inappropriate to call us Big Folk anymore?”
“Ah, look at that,” Marm said, taking charge of anyone who had anything hav
ing to do with his personal art form. He scooted out to meet Fet, like a puppy confronting a man. He eyed the kegs. “Well, then. Shall we take a wee taste and see if that’s drinkable? And you must have some of my brewing, though if you take a fancy to it, there’ll be none left for anyone else!”
“Good!” The giant’s beard and mustache parted to show a generous, white-toothed, red-lipped grin. Before he followed Marm down the hillside he knelt to let a wriggling, writhing cluster of beings in his arms get to the ground.
Liri and Rily stood up and brushed off their glorious bejeweled clothes. Rily straightened the gold circlet on his forehead. The sidhe smiled, showing their sharp white teeth.
“We let the giant carry us here,” Liri said, her pale skin greener than usual. “We should have taken the waterways.”
“Greetings to you, Keith Doyle. These are others we know,” Rily said, pointing behind him with a long, fragile-looking hand. Only Keith knew how very strong it was. “Min, Lar, Von, Sim.” Four black snakes clutching their tails in their mouths like hoops rolled toward Keith’s feet and turned into people, four little men and women with bronze skins, black hair, and obsidian dark, shiny eyes that they blinked at Keith. “Lha Tan and Fha Whoh, visitors to these shores.” A couple of tortoiselike creatures with scaly, gray-brown shells limned with slate blue stood on their hind legs and offered their host a beautiful basket woven of reeds filled with bright red eggs. “I do not know the names of these,” Rily said, aiming a manicured thumb over his shoulder. “They do not speak much.” Behind them were three tall, stork-like beings that blinked shyly. The one closest to the door handed Keith a dripping brown paper bag.
“Hi,” Keith said, utterly overwhelmed with joy, holding the bag against his chest until Diane pried it loose and handed it to one of the elves behind them. “Welcome. Thanks for coming.”
Liri smiled. “It is rare that one of your kind wants to meet us, let alone seek us out a second or a third time. I admired your device of a sandwich board to attract our attention.”
“It pays to advertise,” Keith said cheerfully. “I hope you caught the big blast on April first.” He heard a collective clearing of throats behind him. “I’m not the only one who’s happy you’re here. Let me present all of my good friends. This is Holl. And Diane. And Enoch and Marcy. And, of course, this is the Master.”
Ever calm in the face of situations that threw lesser beings into fits, the red-bearded Headman stepped forward to bow to the regal sidhe and the others.
“My pleasure.”
“And ours,” Rily said, bowing back deeply. “We welcome this chance to meet our brothers and sisters of the earth.”
“As do ve,” the Master said. Behind his glasses, his blue eyes gleamed. “You are most velcome in our home.”
Rily nodded. “We thank you. We knew of your folk of old, in a land far from here.” He stopped and regarded the Master curiously. “Could it be that I have seen your face before?”
“Perhaps a relatif of mine,” the Master said, just a little too quickly. “Ve must speak more later.”
“Yeah!” Keith said, as more of the Folk streamed up behind him, their eyes shining with excitement, waiting for their turn to be introduced. “And this is Dennet and Calla, they’re Holl’s folks.…”
These early arrivals were only the first of many wonderful beings to arrive, most of them bearing gifts of food or drink. Fairies, real fairies like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle thought he had pictures of, with floaty skirts and wands, turned up in a flock like bright-colored tropical birds, twittering in high-pitched voices. Keith took shot after shot with the elves’ electronic camera, hoping they weren’t moving too fast for his lens. Wait until the Niall saw these!
There was a moment when the fairies, fluttering into the garden in Keith’s wake, saw the sidhe, and hesitated. Rily, who’d been lounging at his ease in the shade of Olanda’s prized cherry tree, drew himself up and fastened large, angry, watery green eyes on the little beings. Keith wondered if he was going to have to jump in and break up a fight, but Liri intervened.
“There is peace in this place,” Liri said, in a commanding voice that cut through the hubbub. “Do not disgrace our host. Someday we will settle our business, but not here and now.” Reluctantly, Rily sat down again. The fairies withdrew across the field and clustered around Marm, Fet and the drinks coolers. For one moment Keith wanted to ask about their unsettled “business,” but someone poked him in the back to ask him a question.
The stream of guests continued to arrive, amazing the Folk, who had all but decided they were alone in the world. Most familiar, to Keith, Holl, and Tay at least, was the faint mental image of a sunrise which told them that the air sprites, unable to come down as far as the ground, were at least occupying air space over the farm. Lee Eisley drove up in his new SUV, and escorted Teri Knox and Ludmilla Hempert gallantly down the slope. Teri squealed at the array of fantastic creatures hanging around the garden. Old Ludmilla accepted it all without question, nodding and smiling gently at everyone she passed. Lee’s dark eyes showed white all around the irises.
“I dunno,” he told Keith, when they exchanged handshakes and backslaps. “I’m too used to weirdo politicians and protesters now. I don’t think I can handle anything this real.”
“It’ll all come back to you,” Keith assured him. He handed Lee over to Candlepat and Tiron at the refreshment table, and went up to greet a few more of the Master’s returning students.
A number of visitors were more animal, vegetable, or mineral than humanoid. Keith was grateful for Liri’s declaration of peace in the glade. Something minotaurish chatted placidly with something much smaller and rabbitoid. Something red about the size of a skunk with rows of sharp teeth lurked at the foot of the buffet table, waiting to devour delicacies that fell from the hands, claws, talons and paws of those others serving themselves. A tribe of ghostly, narrow wood spirits, claiming to be the last of their kind, shimmered into being among the trees in the garden and stood drinking in the atmosphere instead of enjoying the flowing beer and cider. Minute beings surrounded by colored haloes seemed to fade in and out here and there like blinking Christmas lights. No one could agree on what the creatures really looked like. Many of the more insubstantial guests simply appeared, rather than ringing the farmhouse bell. Keith wandered around in a happy daze, greeting newcomers and introducing them to one another.
“Don’t pinch me,” he told Diane, who was setting dishes of tuna salad on the ground for a group of gray-coated selkies who had gallumphed up from the river’s edge in their seal form. “If this is a dream I want to enjoy it as long as possible.”
“Oh, it’s real, all right,” she said, straightening up and wiping her hands on a paper towel. She kissed him. “You know what you’ve accomplished here, don’t you?”
“I know,” Keith said, his eyes very bright as he looked around the garden. It looked like the frontispiece illustration from a very comprehensive and imaginative medieval bestiary. Was that … a unicorn peeking out from behind the raspberry canes, or just a trick of the light? He rubbed his eyes, but the white-maned creature was gone. His voice dropped to an awestruck whisper. “It’s incredible. I just wonder what I’m going to do for an encore.”
“What?” Diane squawked, astonished. “You think you have to follow this up?”
“Build on success, that’s what they keep telling me in advertising,” Keith said, trying to sound nonchalant and giving it up without rancor when he failed to sound disinterested. He grinned. “I’ve got a reputation as a miracle-worker to build on. Speaking of which…?” He looked around hopefully.
“I haven’t seen it yet,” Diane said, shaking her head. “No one has.”
“I hope it didn’t get lost somewhere,”
Keith said wistfully. But the nadouessioux had no intention of missing the party. Guests near the serving area began to jump around and exclaim. Keith himself felt heat radiating from a spot near the beer kegs. The giant Fet rose to his huge feet just
as the ground erupted and a stream of golden fire poured upwards. The flame coiled itself in a loop and hung eight feet above the grass, blinking black eyes at the amazed guests and looking very satisfied with itself.
Keith rushed over to greet it. “I thought you wouldn’t make it back in time,” he said, triumphantly. “Where’d you leave Beach and company?”
“A favorite plasssse,” the fire-snake hissed. A picture, flame-edged and almost painful to concentrate upon, appeared in the circle of the nadouessioux’s body. It showed a dramatic landscape of high mountains and rocky outcroppings covered in snow, all drawn in fire, but in incredible detail.
“Where’s that?” Diane asked, peering at it. Borget, on ground patrol duty to pick up dropped napkins and pieces of food the ground-browsing visitors didn’t want, came over to peer at it. He was getting to be a whiz at geography.
“I think it must be the Yukon Territories,” the blond boy said, airing his education proudly. “There are active volcanoes up there.” The nadouessioux blinked as if in agreement.
“A long, dry journey,” it said. “I wisssh for ssssome of the ssssweet liquid to sssslake my thirst.”
“Well,” Marm said heartily, grabbing up an empty tankard and placing it under the nearest spigot. “You have come to the right place for that!”
“Zo, Meester Doyle,” the Master said, coming up to him with a plate in his hand that held ordinary sandwiches and clumps of more exotic-looking goodies. “I must congratulate you. Ofer the misgifings of many of our folk and against incalculable odds you haf accomplished that vhich ve vould nefer haf undertaken on our own. I must congratulate you on accomplishing your goal.”
“I didn’t do it just for me, sir,” Keith said earnestly. “Now that you’re living out in the world, I thought it would be good for you to get acquainted with the neighbors.”
“And I for vun am enjoying it greatly,” the Master said with a smile. “Catra and I are gathering data on all uf our visitors that I shall compile in a paper to add to our archives and send to my brother in Ireland.”
Advanced Mythology Page 40