Smells Like Finn Spirit

by Randy Henderson

  I reached our table where thankfully everyone now sat with their food. “We have to get out of here, get somewhere safe. Now.”

  “What’s going on?” Sammy asked.

  “Both Grandfather and a Fury are in the building—”

  All color drained from Sammy’s face, but her eyes practically flamed red as she stood and said, “That bastard better not come anywhere near me again.” Fatima put a hand on her arm to reassure or steady her. Grandfather had kidnapped and tortured Sammy six months ago, at the same time he’d taken Mattie. Though Sammy hid it as well as she hid most of her emotions, Fatima had confided that it still caused my sister nightmares.

  “Furies?” Kaitlin asked in a shocked tone, and looked around the crowded space. “What did you do to attract them?”

  “That story’s enough to fill two books at least,” I said. “And right now, we need to get someplace safe.”

  “The EMP?” Mattie said as we all moved toward the emergency exit.

  I thought about the shining, undulating bulk of the EMP museum building just a quick sprint away. There were arcana wardens inside, tasked with guarding the ARC Sanctum hidden beneath the Science Fiction museum area.

  They would not be happy to see me given that I’d broken into the Sanctum with Zeke six months ago, and left a number of the wardens injured in the process. But keeping those around me safe was more important than fear of a possible beat down just then.

  “The EMP,” I agreed. We sprinted in that direction as quickly as the crowds allowed.

  “You know,” Dawn said, striding beside me. “After being away from your family the past month, I almost forgot about all the, you know.” She waved at our situation, her many silver rings glinting. One of those rings held a ladybug suspended in amber and charged with a bit of my energy, marking her as an Acolyte, a mundane allowed knowledge of the magical world.

  “I’m sorry, I know—”

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. I slowed to a fast walk and fumbled the phone out of my jeans, half expecting a call from Grandfather with an all clear and a claim that I now owed him. But the image of a bald black man with a faded scar across his forehead glared out from the screen. Reggie had been less than thrilled when I took the picture, catching his expression as Mort offered him a cheap boxed red wine with dinner.

  I had a reflexive urge to ignore the call. Reggie was an enforcer, a policeman of the magical world, representing the area’s Arcana Ruling Council. As it did every time Reggie called me, fear surged up in me that the ARC had learned about my use of dark necromancy. But Reggie was also a friend of sorts, working to root out the Arcanites. Somehow, I didn’t think his call was a coincidence.

  I hit the answer icon, and held the phone pressed hard to one ear while covering the other to hear over the music and crowd. “Hello?”

  “Finn?”

  “Yeah, Reggie, I was actually going to call you. My—”

  “Just listen! The Arcanites are deeper in the ARC than we thought. I discovered something about their plans, and—gods, I still can’t believe it.”

  “What?” I asked. Reggie sounded freaked out, which freaked me out, as if I weren’t freaked out enough already.

  “They—shit, they found me! Damn it. Check your e-mail!”

  Then the phone squealed feedback in my ear, and the call ended.

  I came to a stop, and everyone else in our group halted with me.

  “You okay, Uncle Finn?” Mattie asked.

  If the Arcanites still infested the Arcana Ruling Council and its branches, if they were bold enough to go after Reggie, then we could be walking right into their trap if we fled to the museum.

  “Change of plans. We go for the car, and home.”

  Sammy gave an enormous sneeze. I turned to ask if she was okay, and she let out another sneeze. If a butterfly flapping its wings can cause a hurricane on the other side of the world, Sammy’s sneezes probably caused hurricanes on distant planets.

  They also served as a warning of magic being directed at her, since Sammy was allergic to active magic and magical creatures.

  I spun around. Deputy Dolph plowed through the crowd in a beeline for us like a linebacker charging for a sponsorship deal.

  It was probably too much to hope that he’d dispatched Grandfather. More likely that his orders were to target me specifically, in which case he would ignore anyone else unless they posed a threat.

  “You guys go on,” I said. “He’s after me.” I pulled a collapsible steel baton out of my pocket, but did not extend it as I looked from Sammy to Mattie and back.

  “Fuck,” Sammy said, but only hesitated a second before saying, “Be careful.” She nudged Mattie back into motion toward the car, Fatima joining them.

  “Nice try,” Dawn said, not moving, and Kaitlin still at her side. “We stick together.”

  “Dawn, I have a plan, but it won’t work if you’re with me. And we don’t have time to argue.”

  “I can give Finn a head start,” Kaitlin said, “create the illusion he ran a different direction. But I won’t be able to maintain it for long.”

  Dawn’s eyes narrowed, and she said to me, “You’d better get your tight little butt back to me in one piece, or I’ll come after you in the afterlife.”

  “Aw, that’s, like, a quote from Last of the Mohicans, isn’t it?” I asked.

  She just rolled her eyes and said, “Toe pick!” Then she sprinted after the others.

  “Toe Pick” had become a phrase we shared after watching The Cutting Edge. When I said it to Dawn, it usually meant “Good luck, go get them,” like when she was about to perform. When she said it to me, she claimed it meant “Focus!” but what I suspected it really meant was “Don’t do something stupid!”

  Why is everyone telling me not to be stupid? I asked Alynon.

  No response. He must still be out of it from exerting control over my leg earlier. There’s no way he would have passed up an opening like that willingly. Which was a shame, since a little advice wouldn’t have been unwelcome just then.

  Kaitlin moved a little away from me. “On my go, run for it.” She looked from me to the Fury for a minute, squinting as if trying to see through it, then said, “Okay. Go!”

  I pushed my way through the flow of people on the concrete walkway to reach the grass beyond, then sprinted a short ways before looking back.

  Dolph Fury wasn’t moving toward Sammy and the others, or me, but remained focused on the place I’d stood when Kaitlin placed the illusion in his mind. The magic took its toll on Kaitlin though. She wavered as though she wanted to pass out, her reserve of magical energy, or her strength of will, rapidly drained under the weight of the Fury’s focus and emotion.

  I put a little more distance between myself and the Fury before a howl of anger could be heard over the thrumming rock music. The illusion had ended.

  A fight erupted around the Fury, shoves and punches and shouts rippling outward along the line of people as if someone had started a game of telephone with the world’s meanest Yo Mamma joke.

  “Hey!” I shouted. “Blind Fury! Come get some!”

  The Fury’s bloodshot eyes locked on mine, and I waited until I was certain he was coming for me, then took off running across the grass, ragey Deputy Dolph in furious pursuit.

  3

  LOVE SHACK

  I was in pretty good shape physically, thanks in part to Alynon’s efforts in the years he possessed my body, and in part to the fact Dawn and I had begun taking Wing Chun classes together. But the Fury had taken possession of a clearly athletic enforcer, and Furies were able to push their host bodies to extremes, pumping adrenaline and blocking pain. I would not be able to stay ahead for long.

  In Dolph’s path, a little girl in butterfly face paint giggled an adorable laugh. The Fury recoiled, staggering in an arc away from the girl, gaining me a little ground.

  I ran toward Barry’s drum circle on the nearby hilltop.

  Most of the young men and women in the circle had
dreadlocks, and the men had their shirts tied around their waists, exposing too-pale skin to the Northwest sun. A cloud of body odor and patchouli smell surrounded them. Barry especially loved patchouli to help hide his waerdog scent from other brightbloods with a strong sense of smell.

  “Barry!” I said as I ran up. Barry looked up, surprised, and the mind-numbing rhythm they’d been playing faltered. “Woah brah!” he said. “You totally harshed our groove there. We were so in the zone.”

  “Uh, sorry. Look, I just wanted to say hello, no hard feelings and all that.” I held out my hand.

  “Oh! Right on, man. We’re all good.” He took my hand.

  I summoned up my magic, and prepared to transfer a bit of my spiritual energy to Barry. If I could mask his spiritual resonance with mine, the Fury just might go after him. Surely a pack of waerdogs could handle a Fury better than I could. For all I knew, the Forest of Shadows Fey sent the damn thing.

  But I hesitated, looking at the curious young faces of the drummers, and released the summoning. I just couldn’t do it.

  Gods I hated Barry. But that didn’t mean I had the right to sic a Fury on him, and especially not on these other kids, who for all I knew were just a bunch of stoners drawn to Barry’s puppy charm. Besides, Dawn might think I did it out of jealousy or anger. She liked Barry. Everyone liked Barry. The bastard.

  “Barry, do you have any tips on dealing with a Fury?”

  “Furies?” Barry looked surprised, then gave his damn charming smile. “Only love can truly conquer fury, my friend. Why?” He looked past me. “Oh. Bummer, dude.”

  Dolph Fury was close enough I could hear him breathing harshly as he began running up the hill we stood upon. Then he stopped several feet away, and grinned at me with a gap-toothed smile, a bit of saliva running down his chin.

  The red of his eyes seemed to fill my vision, setting the world aflame.

  I turned back and punched Barry in the face. “Thanks for nothing!” I shouted as rage flared up within me like a grease fire of anger—anger that Barry had tried to steal Dawn from me, anger that I ever worried he might succeed, anger that he reminded me how close my choices had brought my family and the Elwha brightbloods to disaster. Anger that—

  Barry sprang to his feet, and licked my face.

  “What the—” I felt a sudden urge to giggle. Barry had just used his waerdog powers on me, infecting me with his simple joy. I smiled.

  Then anger surged back in like water into a sinking car.

  “Run, brah!” Barry said, and shoved me away from Dolph Fury. Some part of my brain understood, and I began to run again.

  The Fury screamed, and chased after me, ignoring Barry and his group. The anger faded as I gained some distance and the Fury had to focus again on controlling Dolph’s body in a flat-out run.

  Barry had just helped save me. I owed him one.

  There was simply no justice in the universe.

  But knowing that Barry wasn’t aligned with the Fury made me reconsider the merits of his advice. Love was the answer? How the hell did that help me? I wasn’t taking this thing anywhere near Dawn.

  I glanced back. Dolph gained on me with every step. I could feel my muscles already beginning to strain. Soon, energy would be replaced by lactate and acid buildup, and I would reach my limit far sooner than the Fury, who would simply push Dolph to the point of true collapse.

  I looked to the Pacific Science Center ahead.

  Maybe I could speed up the process of collapse—for Dolph Fury, not me of course.

  I pushed myself to my limit.

  I entered the courtyard of the Pacific Science Center, running along a narrow concrete path that wound through reflecting pools, spanned by tall white arches that looked like elven towers from Rivendell. I nearly knocked several visitors into the water in my haste. Shouting apologies behind me without slowing down, I reached the nearest side entrance. Locked. Thank the gods. I tugged the skeleton key on its cord from under my shirt. A thief’s finger bone covered in runes, the artifact was rare and an example of combined thaumaturgy and necromancy from darker times. I held it against the door, and the lock released. I ducked inside and closed the door behind me, making sure it locked again.

  Dolph Fury would have to find another way in, buying me some time.

  Children packed the hall, lined up to see an exhibit of Harry Potter movie props and settings. Dawn adored Harry Potter, and had made an exception to our one-year-per-month pop-cultural immersion plan, saying a geek like me couldn’t walk around ignorant of Harry Potter and not raise a lot of questions. I’d loved the books and movies both, but had needed serious convincing it wasn’t another part of the ARC’s disinformation campaign to create plausible deniability about the magical world.

  I turned and ran away from the exhibit. The last thing I wanted was to lead a Fury into a pack of children. At least, not until I was prepared to stop him.

  I made my way to the insect displays, a room with a black widow, a scorpion, bees, and more small and deadly critters, most dead and preserved.

  *What are you doing?* Alynon asked drowsily as I slowed next to the scorpions. *Keep running!*

  Welcome back! I thought back at him. I’m making my stand. I should be able to animate and control as many as a dozen of these creepy crawlies and use them to poison the Fury.

  *La, I hesitate to point this out, yet given how prone you are to fits of self-flagellation and annoying bouts of melancholy …*

  I sighed. Yes?

  *Are you truly ready to kill a possessed man to rid yourself of the Fury?*

  Frak. He was right. Deputy Dolph wasn’t exactly an innocent bystander if he worked for my grandfather. But he hadn’t actually ever attacked me or anything. He was being used against his will. And even if he weren’t, killing him shouldn’t be my first choice. Even as accustomed to death as I was being from a family of necromancers, life remained sacred.

  And what worried me most was that Alynon had to point it out to me.

  Well, what choice do I have? I asked defensively. You know more about Fey spirits than me. What should I do?

  *I do not know. I only know that a Fury’s bane is not anger but that which is opposite of anger.*

  “Meaning?” I muttered.

  *Peace. Love. Joy.*

  Great. Don’t suppose there’s a Care Bear around with a belly full of magic?

  I looked around. And realized that there was, in fact, a possibility.

  “Stop!” A voice called out. “Sir, if you do not leave peaceably we will have to use force.”

  I turned, startled, and saw two security guards who closely resembled Jon and Ponch from CHiPs backpedaling, as Dolph Fury stomped toward me like He-Man in a ’roid rage. Jon-guard held up his hand, and the Fury touched it.

  Jon shuddered, and said, “It’s not fair. It’s not fair!”

  Ponch took a step back and put his hand on his nightstick. “Hey, you okay?”

  Jon turned, his face contorted and red, and launched himself at his partner.

  The Fury continued marching at me as the two guards fell to the floor, Ponch desperately trying to fend off the wild attack of his partner.

  Crap.

  I turned, and ran into the butterfly house. I had to push past several people in line, but they were distracted watching the two guards rolling on the floor like high school brawlers.

  The butterfly house was basically a clear-sided hothouse the size of a large room, filled with bright and beautiful flowers and hundreds of even more beautiful butterflies.

  I ran around the island at the room’s center with its fountain and tropical trees, placing it between me and the entrance.

  Dolph Fury pushed his way into the butterfly house, driven by whatever compulsion had been placed on him to pursue me into hell itself. He spotted me, and began marching purposefully toward me.

  A cloud of butterflies descended on him like a pack of wild children on a herd of injured piñatas.

  It is really hard to stay angry
when you’re in a room full of butterflies under normal circumstances. It’s like trying to be angry with your girlfriend as you watch Ghost together. It just doesn’t work. At least, I found it impossible. I mean, when Patrick first talks to Demi through Whoopi, I completely forgot how I was kind of upset at Dawn for writing a comedic song about our own romance. I just took her hand, grateful to have her in my life, alive and beautiful and amazing, challenges be damned and—

  Well, you watch that movie and tell me you aren’t moved even a little.

  But when butterflies focus their energy on you, it transforms you. That is their power after all, their very nature—transformation. And it was the exact opposite of the Fury’s nature.

  Dolph Fury gave a terrible, deep scream, and then collapsed.

  The butterflies, having depleted the bright but tiny spark of magic that animated them, fluttered down out of the air like leaves in autumn.

  I stared for a minute at the unconscious man surrounded and covered in a blanket of butterfly wings, something bothering me. And then I realized what it was.

  Furies normally traveled in packs of three.

  I fled the scene before someone figured I was responsible for it all, and ran to rejoin Dawn, Sammy, Mattie, and Fatima, hoping desperately that I wasn’t too late.

  4

  EVERYBODY HURTS

  I reached Sixth Avenue, several blocks from the Seattle Center, and found everyone standing unharmed in the shade of the Travelodge near Dawn’s old wood-paneled green station wagon, which she called Rattley Wood. I breathed a sigh of relief. Actually, I breathed a harsh phlegmy cough of relief after running through the heat to reach them, but let’s pretend I arrived looking all awesome and heroic and not all sweaty and spitting out mucus.

  “What happened?” Sammy asked, checking behind me.

  Dawn threw her arms around me, and squeezed. “Well, I guess I don’t need to kill you for dying.”

  “No,” I said, still catching my breath, and swallowed what moisture I could as Dawn stepped back. “But I thought—”

  “Guys!” Mattie shouted. I turned to follow her gaze. A red-haired woman charged at us from across the street, her eyes bloodshot, her face a mask of anger.