by Tanya Huff
Dressed in black and silver—jeans, boots, T-shirt, leather jacket, lots of buckles—and wearing a very large sword across his back, he waited for them in the electronics section of the department store. The sword, at least, should have looked out of place. It didn’t.
A burgundy leather sofa and two matching chairs, heavy on the rivets, defined three sides of the space. Under the furniture, was a square of carpet patterned in shades of gray. The fourth side was a massive, rear projection television—its screen a reflective black. The mere lack of accessible electricity wouldn’t have been enough to keep the TV off had enough of the mall elves wanted it on but, subconscious desires or not, the programming would have been beyond their control. Diana had seen a TV in one of the bleaker Otherside neighborhoods that showed nothing but reruns of Three’s Company. Next to the Girl Guide camp, it was as close to actually being in Hell as she ever wanted to get.
There was no sign of Arthur’s usual entourage and although the coffee table had smoothed corners, it could in no way be called round.
“When Kris said that a pair of Keepers had crossed over, I thought the news was too good to be true,” Arthur announced, moving to meet them as they stepped onto the carpet. “And yet, here you are.” He looked so pleased that Diana found herself grinning foolishly in response. A quick glance over at Claire showed she was having much the same reaction.
“Sire? About some us heading out scavenging?”
“Of course.” Arthur nodded toward the Keepers. “If you’ll excuse me.” When he turned his attention to Kris, it seemed almost as though the lights had dimmed.
Oh, great. Diana scowled at her reflection in the television. That’s so not good.
Wait a minute, the lights have dimmed.
She glanced up at the ceiling. The huge frosted squares over the fluorescent tubes were becoming distinctly gray. “Claire…”
“I see it. I think this store is almost real and the mall in the real world is closing down for the day.”
They were right under one of the emergency lights. As the rest of the store filled with shadows, the area defined by the sofa, the chairs, and the television remained, if not bright, at least lit. “But it’s barely midafternoon.”
“A little past.” Claire thrust her wrist and watch into Diana’s line of sight. Six fifteen. The second hand swept around the dial almost too fast to see. Six sixteen. Seventeen.
* * *
“Give me one good reason why I should feed you anything different than I would if Claire were here?” Dean demanded, lifting Austin off the table and out of his supper.
“Claire’s not here.”
He thought about that for a moment then cut the cat some cold beef. “Okay. Good reason.”
* * *
“But time was running one to one when you checked at the Emporium.”
Claire nodded toward Arthur, who was still speaking quietly with Kris. “I think he’s a time distortion. He’s pure Otherside. Whoever’s running this segue can’t control him.”
“Yeah, but they clearly can’t control the elves either.”
* * *
“It’s June.” Austin settled himself in tea cozy position on the coffee table. “Why are they still playing hockey?”
“Because they’re not finished.”
“You know, the world made a lot more sense when I was young.”
Dean twisted the cap off a beer and toasted his reluctant companion. “Oh, yeah, I’ll drink to that.”
* * *
“They had no trouble controlling the elves before Arthur showed up. Kris said they were getting their asses kicked.”
“Okay, so these kids get caught in the segue, but it happened over time, so the darkness had to know about it, which means it has to want them here to…” Diana glanced around at the department store, complete to the sale banners hanging from the ceiling. “…to help define this end of the mall—which is where they’d end up, running from the darkside at the other end. The darkness figures it can remove them easily enough before the segue’s complete, but it doesn’t count on them banding together and being able to bring in outside help. Darkness underestimates Bystanders, the latest in a continuing series. But it must have realized that Arthur was a threat to its plans—so why hasn’t it moved to destroy him and his merry men?”
“Watch it, you’re mixing archetypes.”
“So? What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I can think of a dozen really bad movies that essentially answer your question,” Claire told her in a low voice. “And bits from any of them could show up if you’re not more careful!”
Diana shuddered and checked out the surrounding shadows. So far, they seemed clear of movie clichés. “Sorry. But I’d still like to know what the darkness is waiting for.”
“Maybe it’s not waiting. Maybe it’s just that the other end of the mall’s running a lot slower than this end.”
Time was relative, sure, but the Otherside took it to extremes. “Given your vast years of experience, what are the odds that our presence acts like a catalyst for a little localized Armageddon?”
“Pretty good.”
“How good?”
Before Claire could answer, Arthur clapped Kris on the shoulder and sent her on her way. Forgetting Armageddon, Diana watched her leave, watched the swing of her hips and the movement of her hair against her back until she disappeared around a corner. Then she stared at the corner as though wanting could make the other girl come back. Actually wanting could make her come back. As Kris reappeared, looking confused, Diana forced herself to think of other things.
Like being overrun by the forces of darkness.
On second thought, let’s not think too hard about that either.
“Come, drop your gear. Sit and we will speak together.” Arthur’s voice was deep and a little rough. It was a voice that spoke of fairness and trust and responsibility and the kind of values people always said they were looking for but never much liked once they found them.
He sounds just like the kind of guy you’d buy a new operating system from, Diana realized suddenly. And he sounds a lot older than he looks. Which he is. Thus the immortal part of that whole Immortal King thing. Duh. Still, losing the backpack seemed like the best idea anyone had had in days. Diana let it slide down her arms, caught it just before it was about to drop, and fell back gratefully onto one end of the sofa.
“Here, let me help.” Arthur stepped forward and lifted Claire’s pack off her shoulders. He showed no surprise at the weight, merely settling it to one side as Claire thanked him.
Stronger than he looks, Diana noted. Just another piece of the whole, too good to be true, package.
He waited until Claire and Sam were sitting before shoving his sword back out of the way and sprawling bonelessly over one of the armchairs. Archetype or not, he still sat like a teenage boy.
A teenage boy with a big honkin’ sword.
“Will you take refreshment?” He waved at a stack of juice boxes.
“No, thanks.” Diana pulled a bottle of water and Sam’s saucer out of a side pocket. “We brought our own. We’re not staying,” she added, as Arthur began to frown. “And we’d just as soon not have our ears sharpened.”
* * *
Wrapping himself in his tail, Austin glared up at Dean. “Just so we’re both clear on this, no cuddling.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be sleeping on Claire’s pillow, then.” Setting his glasses carefully on the bedside table, Dean reached up and turned off the light. “Suppose I wake up lonely and confused?”
“Lonely, confused, and lipless if you come anywhere near me.”
“No tongue…”
“Because I’ll have ripped it out and batted it under the bed!”
“Good night, Austin.”
* * *
“Eating or drinking while we’re on this side, will make it more difficult for us to cross back,” Claire explained.
“I could be insulted that you refuse my hosp
itality, but you are of the Lineage, so I bow instead to your wisdom.” Suiting action to the words, he bowed where he sat and then straightened, flipping his hair back out of his face. His revealed expression was serious. “So, Keepers, what are you doing here?”
Diana passed the water bottle to Claire and told the story of the bracelet one more time.
“I don’t remember your bits of the dialogue being quite so witty the first time I heard this,” Sam muttered.
Ignoring him, she told Arthur about the Emporium, the mirror, and the segue.
“That explains a great deal,” he said thoughtfully. “Whoever is behind this no doubt allowed my people through in order that their beliefs hasten the reality of the mall, figuring to pick them off when their usefulness was done.”
“Yeah, we think so, too.” Diana fought the urge to be unreasonably pleased that Arthur agreed with her.
“They can’t be happy that I have made them one people, strong and able to defend themselves.”
“No, they can’t—mostly because these sorts literally can’t be happy. The best they can manage is triumphant glee.”
“In order to complete their plan, they must attack us in force and wipe us from their reality.”
He caught on fast. Diana reluctantly admitted she liked that in an archetype. It made for less exposition. “Yes, they must.”
“You must close the segue before this happens.”
“Duh.”
Arthur lifted a single brow. “I’m sorry?”
“We have every intention of closing the segue before anyone is hurt,” Claire explained, shooting Diana a look that promised a future lecture on the inappropriate use of the smart-ass response. “Unfortunately, the anchor’s hidden somewhere in the construction zone, and when we left the Emporium, we set off an alarm. The dark guards your…people call the meat-minds arrived before we could get to it.”
“And if that’s not enough happy happy,” Diana broke in, “we can’t seem to influence that end of the mall, so we’re going to have to go into the construction zone through the access corridor.”
“Darkness has more deadly servants than the meat-minds patrolling the access corridors,” Arthur said quietly.
Claire nodded. “We heard some—or one—right after we crossed over.”
“Some of them are large,” Arthur admitted, pensively rubbing a buckle between thumb and forefinger. “Some are smaller but dangerous still. We’ve barricaded them out of our territory, but I fear they stay away more out of their desire than ours.”
“They don’t push because, so far, they don’t want to, not because they’re afraid of you?”
“Of me and my people, yes.”
“That’s not good.” Which, given the situation, was pretty much a gimme. Diana glanced up as the ceiling lights came on, glanced down to note that Claire’s watch was still keeping speedy time, and decided not to worry about it. “So, about your people; from what Kris said about living rough, I’m guessing no one’s going to miss any of them back home?”
“Until they came here, they had no home.” Releasing the buckle, he curled his hand into a fist. “They are the unwanted youth of your world. Rootless and wanting to be elsewhere. With the shadow mall in place, it took only the opening of a door to cross over. Most of them crossed when leaving the public washroom by the food court.”
“Oh, yeah, public washrooms,” Diana snorted. “Always an adventure. The food court would put them pretty close to the Emporium and a whole bunch of the bad stuff.”
“This is why not all of them survived.” He studied all three of them for a long moment, his pellucid gaze moving unhurriedly from Keeper to Keeper to cat. “You told them you are wizards,” he said at last, the sentence falling between question and accusation.
Diana’s tone sharpened in response to the later. “Keepers, wizards—it seemed the simplest explanation since it’s essentially true.”
“Essentially,” Claire muttered under her breath.
“Essentially?” Arthur repeated. “Are you saying then that Merlin was of the lineage?” Full lips twisted up into a half smile.
“Sorry, classified. But speaking of Merlin…” Diana leaned left and peered past the television, searching the shadows around the stacks of boxed DVD players. “…don’t you usually come with a side of fries?”
Azure eyes blinked. “What?”
“Yeah, what?” Sam turned around on her lap, fabric bunching under anchoring claws, and stared up at her. “Even I didn’t get that one.”
“Extras. Baggage. Bad choices. Betrayal.” Diana sighed. “I could go on, but we all know the story. No Lancelot? No Guinevere?”
“Not so far.” Arthur looked pleased with himself and remarkably young. “I think I managed to ditch them this time. That whole star-crossed lovers thing—definitely getting tedious.”
“Tedious?”
When he nodded, Diana shook her head. “Nice try. But isn’t it part of what makes you Arthur?”
“Not in the oldest stories. In the oldest stories, I make one people out of a number of warring tribes and then lead them out to face a common foe. All the sex? You can blame that on the French.”
“Actually, we can’t; it’s a Canadian thing. And,” Claire continued in her best I’m a Keeper and you aren’t voice, “none of that’s important. What’s important is that we close this segue down before there’s an open access into our world and before your people are…”
“Crunched?” Sam offered helpfully.
“I was going to say ‘attacked’, but ‘crunched’ works. Maybe a little too well…” She started to stand. “Which means…”
“We’re going to need your help.”
Dropping back onto the sofa, Claire glared at her sister. “What?”
Diana shifted around to meet Claire’s glare. The protest had been expected, an argument had been prepared. “These guys know every accessible inch of this mall. Plus, they know the safest way into the access corridors, what to expect when we’re there, and how to avoid it.”
“They’re Bystanders!”
“So’s Dean.”
“I knew you were going to bring him up.”
“Who’s Dean?” Arthur asked.
“Something you can’t blame on the French,” Sam snickered.
Arthur looked confused, but both women ignored the feline non sequitur with practiced ease.
“Dean has nothing to do with this, Diana.” Eyes narrowed, Claire punctuated her protest with a stabbing finger. “I agreed to exchange information, but I draw the line at bringing Bystanders any further into our business.”
“First, it’s my Summons, so it’s my line. Second, this is totally their business. This is their world now, they’ve changed too much to go home, and they have a right to defend themselves. Their best defense…” She spread both hands. “…and I’m willing to bet that it’s their only defense—is helping us to close this thing down before the bad guys make their move. Considering how complete things look—time shifts or no time shifts—that move can’t be too far off.”
“My scouts have reported more activity in enemy territory,” Arthur allowed.
Diana jerked around to stare at him. “You have scouts?”
“Not the scary kind,” he reassured her. “No shorts, no apples.”
“Good.”
* * *
“Where were you?” Austin demanded as Dean closed the front door.
“Where I told you I was going, playing ball with some friends. Just like I do every Sunday afternoon.” Tossing his glove onto the counter, he headed for the kitchen. “The answering machine was on, and you were asleep.”
“Well, I woke up and I was hungry.”
“I left you a bowl of dry.” Something crunched underfoot and Dean noticed the kibble spread evenly over the floor. “Which you obviously found. You think you could have caudled things up any more?”
“This is a big place,” Austin reminded him. “But before you start looking, how about feeding
me.”
* * *
Head to one side, hair falling attractively, Arthur studied the Keepers. “If we have battle coming—which I’d be a fool to deny—why should I split my strength by helping you?”
“When we remove the anchor and close the segue,” Diana told him, peeling her bare thighs one at a time off the leather and scooting to the edge of the sofa, “we’ll be able to influence the other end of the mall. Our influence could save your butts.”
“Even though our influence would be totally subconscious,” Claire added.
Diana waved off the warning. “And besides, you said it yourself, it’s part of your original raisin of the day—you make one people out of a number of warring tribes and then you lead them out to face a common foe.”
“Raisin of the day?”
“I assume she means raison d’etre.”
“Hey, I’m trying to keep the French out of it. We don’t need Arthur’s baggage finally making it through customs.”
Arthur glanced around uneasily. “Could that happen?”
“Keepers. Otherside.” Diana shrugged. “Anything could happen.”
A siren shrieked out on the concourse.
In the heartbeat of silence that followed, Claire and Sam turned to stare at Diana.
“What? I didn’t do it!”
On his feet and running full out between one moment and the next, Arthur charged past them, clearing Electronics in three long strides and disappearing between the racks of winter coats.
“You know that question about us being a catalyst?” Claire snarled, swinging her pack up onto one shoulder. “This answer it?”
“Unfortunately!” Grabbing her own pack in both hands, Diana pounded after Arthur, Claire behind her, Sam taking the high road over the furniture to end up leading the way.
Chaos filled the concourse. Meat-minds, some wearing a fine dusting of ceramic cherub, lumbered after the more limber mall elves. Arthur leaped forward, shouting orders and using his sword like a baton to direct a reorganized defense. Claire and Diana rocked to a halt in the entrance to the store.
Sam skidded out into the battle, claws scrabbling for purchase against the slick tile floor. When a massive foot slammed down in his path, he let his slide close the distance, bumping up against an enormous instep, sinking claws deep into gnarled flesh. Finally able to control his momentum, he pushed off and raced back to Diana’s side.