It was some little prickle of instinct that made me think the guy was fae, before I consciously registered it. He was odd-looking, but in this crowd, that didn’t mean much. He was just human enough to mix in with this population and just bizarre enough to invite curiosity; animal grace in his movements, strength coiled in his limbs. I looked from face to face expecting to see panic or fear, but all I saw was fascination. Everyone must think this was some kind of elaborate costume and makeup job, just another spontaneous show. I wondered if they even saw what I saw. Maybe he looked more human to them than he did to me.
Had Joe’s land spirits decided to come through and take a look around, after all? This one wasn’t being subtle about it. But no, this was definitely the spinner I’d seen last night, before we called the fairy circle. How...?
He held out his hands, showing them empty, and then held one fist up to his mouth and breathed into it. When he opened the fist, a bright orange flame leaped up from his palm and he tossed the fireball into the air, where it crackled and fizzled apart like a tiny firework. Everyone cheered. He blew on his fingertips, a fine stream of fire in his exhalation, and the tips of his thick grayish nails lit up like sparklers. He drew swift bright designs in the air in front of him before shaking out his hands.
He vaulted down and did some acrobatic flips, landing near the giant birdcage. With a swift spin, he crouched and leaped onto it, clinging to the bars for a moment before scampering upward with the sinewy muscles of his arms and legs bunching and stretching. He reached the top and stood up, balancing on one narrow bar and walking with arms outstretched, then bent down and grasped the bar, lifting his lower body into the air with one arm, his other arm gesturing out to the side.
I heard a popping sound and then a shout of panic, and turned in time to see one of the DJ mixing boards shoot off a gout of flame. The DJ threw his jacket over it, slapping at it to put out his equipment, and then a speaker burst and let out a painful staticky whine of feedback. Others came running to help, trying to find the right cords to unplug the speaker, and a corner of the tent suddenly sagged low as one of the supports collapsed. In slow but inevitable motion, the entire structure swayed and listed and then collapsed, covering the equipment, the DJ, and the people who were trying to help him.
Vivia and I were already running over to it when I saw the fallen canopy catch fire. There were lumps of movement as the trapped people struggled to get out from under it. I heard other shouts, people yelling for buckets of water or fire extinguishers. I saw a gas generator sitting out right behind the tent, and imagined the size of the explosion if it, too, caught fire. I raced toward it, reaching it as others clustered around the canopy and tried to coordinate lifting the heavy plastic-coated fabric.
Of course, I had no idea how the generator worked. I slapped at it, trying to spot the power switch, and then just started yanking power cords out of its plugs. At last I spotted the toggle switch to power it down, and flipped it. The steady whir died out. Vivi reached my side and grabbed one of its handles. “Pull!” she shouted over the chaos, and together we wheeled it to the edge of the nearest road.
As I hurried back, I saw a corner of the canopy left unattended and the people nearest me trying to lift the shade structure’s frame as it fell apart in their hands. I darted over and picked up the corner bar, and among us we managed to maneuver the big canvas upward a few feet. I lifted my arms over my head as I ducked down to look in. There was a lot of smoke, and folds of canopy hung down in people’s way. Someone in front of me was pushing up some loose canopy and looking wildly around, coughing. “Here!” I called out, holding out my hand. “Toward me!”
He stumbled forward, batting at the canopy, and I grabbed him as soon as I could reach and pulled him toward me and out from under the frame. He staggered to his knees on the grass outside and coughed hard. An acrid smell filled my nose and made me dizzy.
A couple of people shouted orders and somehow got everyone else moving in the right direction, peeling back the canopy so it was off the burning equipment and more importantly off the people still stuck trying to find their way out. People with knives were following after the canopy, cutting it free anyplace it was fastened to the frame. I helped lift it back, carrying my corner as a few people began smothering and stomping out the flames.
Things looked like they were getting under control. I took a shaky breath and stepped back, turning to look at the birdcage. The ruddy fae was gone.
Vivi! I spun around, looking for her. What if she’d gone back to help people too, and inhaled this awful smoke, or?
“Mari!” She ran up to me, grabbing my arm and tugging me away from the dying fire. I staggered when I moved and my head spun. “Mari, you look like a space cadet. We need to get you some air.”
I let her pull me away. My lungs burned when I breathed, but the air felt cleaner. I coughed and rubbed tears out of my eyes. “I’m fine. Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m good.” She hugged me. “I saw you help that guy. I started panicking but you just went right in there.”
“I didn’t really think about it.” I was too dazed to make sense of it. Had it made a difference that I was there with Vivi? Had I disrupted things enough for her not to get hurt? That didn’t mean she was safe, though. I hoped Tamar’s demonologist could at least tell us how to destroy the egregore.
“Are you two okay?” Sara ran at us, braids flying, and wrapped her arms around me. I buried my face against her shoulder. “I saw the end of it. What happened?”
“Equipment malfunction, I guess?” Vivi stepped back to let Sara have me. “You should’ve seen Mari. She was a champ.”
Sara held my shoulders and smiled at me. The look in her eyes thrilled me. “She always is.” She turned to Vivi and held out her hand, radiating her beautiful smile at her. “I’m Sara. Are you Vivi? Mari told me you hung out with her at the yurt when she got heat sick. Thanks for helping take care of her.”
“Oh, I didn’t do anything.” Vivi smiled back and shook her hand. “We just chatted a little.”
The three of us drifted down the road together and reached Science Faction. Some of the folks there were grilling, and Dove and Chris were out in the road. “What happened?” said Dove. “It smells awful. What was that chaos?”
“Fire,” I said. “It’s under control now. One of the DJ tents went up.”
“Shit.” Chris shook his head. “It’s going to be a miracle if we get through the whole weekend without getting shut down.”
Sara and I exchanged looks. “What do you mean?” she said.
“Weird shit going down since everyone got here,” said Chris.
“Apparently one of the spigots got damaged during setup,” said Dove. “Threatened to flood the field by the pavilion except they caught it in time. Then a couple of the portajohns got knocked over last night and had to be replaced.”
“Plus that stunt at the water battle,” Chris added, “and then I was down at the pavilion after lunch when one of the big poles supporting the slack line went down. Just pulled right out of the ground. Looked like there were too many people walking the rope. One of them just sprained an ankle, but if the pole fell at a little different angle, someone could’ve died.”
“That’s crazy,” said Vivi. “I wonder what’s going on.”
“People are muttering that there’s bad drugs going around, or that there are some right-wing troll guys trying to sabotage the festival,” said Chris. “The folks who own the land are getting pissed. If the cops have to get called in, forget it. Party’s over.”
“Probably for good.” Dove sighed, her face troubled. “And if they search any tents...”
She didn’t have to spell it out. At a place like this, easily half the population could get perp-walked out on drug charges.
“I’m gonna grab some dinner,” said Vivi. “I’m starving again. You be careful, okay?” That last was directed at m
e and Sara.
There was no good way to keep hanging around her. Shit. Sara nudged me. “Why don’t you go catch a nap before dinner? You’ve been through the wringer today. We can all rally at the Radicals after that and figure out where we’re at.”
I wanted to argue. It felt like I should be doing something, anything. But she was right--my adrenaline high was wearing off, and I was exhausted. Besides, it was very possible that it was going to be a late night. Getting a break while the getting was good seemed wise. I nodded and set off on the hike back to my tent.
As I reached my tent, each step got heavier than the last. I barely registered that the little camp next to me was bustling with activity, cooking and preparing dinner, but my mouth watered at the smell of spices and onions.
The guy who’d been dozing in the hammock when I first arrived was now carrying a plate of vegetables. Teo, that was his name. He waved to me. “Hey, having fun?”
“Lots,” I said, which wasn’t entirely untrue. And c’mon--talking to faeries, stalking demons, rescuing hapless victims, do I know how to party or what?
“You look beat,” he said without a pretense of tact. “Want to join us for dinner? There’s plenty. It’ll be ready in maybe half an hour.”
I really did. “I don’t have much to contribute,” I said. “Hardly anything at all, really.”
He waved it off. “Take the hammock, if the noise won’t bother you. I’ll shake you when the chow’s up.”
For a moment I just stood there. “Everyone here is...I mean...how is everyone here just so nice?”
I must have looked pitiful. My new friend got a concerned, big-brotherly look on his face, carefully set the plate down in the grass, and came over to me. “Got a hug for you too, if you want it.”
“Yeah,” I said, and he wrapped me up in a big bear hug, squeezing me tight. I wound my arms around his shoulders and closed my eyes, smelling tea tree oil soap and sun-warmed skin, soaking up the simple human contact. I felt self-conscious about whether I was too sweaty or stinky, but he rubbed my back and didn’t seem to care.
When we stepped back, he took my hand and led me over to the hammock. “Just take a load off for a little while. Check out that beautiful sky. There’s a lot of today left to enjoy, so rest up, okay?”
I felt like a little kid as he held the hammock steady to let me get settled in it, and then gently set me to swaying. But it was a good feeling, that relief when the world feels like too much to handle, and someone else gives you permission to let it go for a while. I shifted the pillow under my head and let the fabric cradle me as I gazed up at the blue arc of the heavens, the deepening color as late afternoon began its slow yielding to twilight. The noise of the camps around me was a lulling sort of cacophony, the sounds of life and joy and ordinariness that right now were far more soothing than silence. My eyelids sank and I gave in to the siren song of sleep.
When I felt a hand shaking me, I was confused, struggling to claw my way back to wakefulness and make sense of my surroundings. I couldn’t tell at first if I’d been asleep for a few minutes or several hours, and the fact that I was outside seemed strange until I woke up enough to remember where I was. My friend Teo was crouched beside me, looking sympathetic and amused. “Hey, hate to wake you from a good nap, but we’ve got dinner on if you want to eat with us.”
“Sure, thanks,” I mumbled, sitting up and stretching the sleep out of my limbs and back. The nap had helped, but it was also a tease. I felt like I could flop right back down and pass out for another twelve or fifteen hours. Instead, I made myself get up and follow him to the shade tent where a dozen or so people were gathering and eating.
I’d barely stepped inside when I had a plate and fork put into my hands, and someone else at a folding table set up as a bar asked me if I wanted a margarita. Oh, did I. My plate was piled with food--dirty rice, cornbread, slices of fried ham, grits with cheese, collard greens served hot with caramelized onions, fresh cold veggies with hummus. My head was spinning.
I was ushered to a chair and introduced around. I struggled to remember all the names or at least the faces, since they were being so kind to me. They were a circle of friends and occasional couples who’d come from Brooklyn. They seemed content to relax and enjoy the camp-out and the parties, feeling no need to turn themselves into a themed camp or to build elaborate art or dress up in costume. It made me feel a little better about the fact that I didn’t have those things either.
They played flamenco music and fusion tango on a CD player and ate with gusto and made pitcher after pitcher of margaritas. They teased each other and smoked and their laughter was full-throated. I liked them. If I hadn’t had so much else on my mind, I could have seen myself hanging out with them a lot this weekend, and not just because they plied me with amazing food and good tequila.
“Feeling better?” Teo sank into the camp chair beside mine with a glass of sipping tequila.
“Much,” I said. “Thank you. For everything.”
He shrugged. “When you were setting up, it looked like you were on your own here. This place can be a lot sometimes. My first year, I just packed up and went home a day early.” There was something strangely sad in his eyes when he said it. He blinked it off and smiled at me.
I looked down at my plate. “Yeah,” I said. “It was kind of a day.”
He shifted so he faced me a little more, leaning on the back of his chair. “Can I draw on your leg?”
“Can you--sure? I guess?” I would’ve said yes to just about anything, after all this food.
Teo picked up a battered army bag from beside his chair, rummaging in it and producing a fistful of colored markers. “Want to talk about it? Your day?”
“It wasn’t all bad. I did make some friends, and they’ve been great. I went swimming and I got to see the water battle, and I talked to a lot of people. That was all fun.” I weighed it out, how much I just wanted to gloss over everything else, versus how much I wanted the chance to vent a little. He seemed interested. “But there’s been a lot of weirdness going down too.”
“I heard.” He settled cross-legged on the ground by my feet and rolled up the leg of my jeans to my knee, turning my calf to study it. “There’s always some problem people, but it’s bad this year, sounds like.”
“And.” I tested the words in my mind before I spoke. “I met someone here, and I get the really strong feeling that she’s not safe here. That she’s being stalked. And that she might even be in danger here. I like her. I want her to be safe. But I don’t really know what I can do about it. And it feels wrong to just do nothing.”
Teo was beginning to draw. The light strokes of the markers on my skin tickled. I hoped my overgrown leg hair didn’t gross him out. “You talk to her about it?”
“I will,” I said, though I still wasn’t sure it wouldn’t just push her away. “Maybe I’m just freaked out by everything that’s been going on. I just feel like, if she gets hurt this weekend--what if there was something I could have done to stop it, and I didn’t? If I’m not in time or not fast enough or strong enough?” I sighed and tipped my head back. It was tempting to get blackout drunk on these excellent margaritas. “I don’t know. It’s just, I was in her place once. I wish someone could have jumped in to help me out in the worst of it.”
“It’s good that you care. That could help her a lot, just to not feel alone. Sometimes that’s all you can do, you know?”
“I guess.”
We were silent for a couple of minutes while he drew and I stewed, and then he spoke again. “Want to hear a story?”
“Sure, why not?” I was intrigued by the glorious rainbow pattern developing along the length of my leg ankle to knee, and happy for anything to take my mind off Vivi and the demon for a little while. One of Teo’s friends refilled my margarita and winked at me, salsa-dancing her way back to the booze table.
“My uncle used to te
ll it,” he said. “About his friends called Pipi and Puto. Brothers. Everyone called them Los Pendejos.”
He grinned at me, checking to see if I got it, and I smiled back. “So were they dumbasses or cowards?” In Cuba, it was more likely to be the latter.
“Both, maybe.” He shrugged. “I guess you decide for yourself. They grew up together and did all the same things. My uncle said they were two balls in one sack.”
“Your uncle sounds like a charmer.”
That made him laugh. “He was kind of rough around the edges, yeah. My mother always got so mad at him. She would hit him out of the house with a kitchen towel and tell him to keep his crap outside like a dog. Anyway, Pipi and Puto had big ideas. Big heads. They used to try to find ways to get rich, to invent things or sell things. Usually it wouldn’t go so well for them. Most of his stories about them, in the end they had to put out a fire or run away from an angry customer. But they meant well. They wanted to fix things, to discover some new way to do things better that would make all the family and the neighbors carry them around on their shoulders, you know? They wanted to help.”
I let my head rest against the back of the chair. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“It wasn’t.” He sat up, hunching over with his face close to my shin, intent on his drawing. “They knew they could do something good in the world one day. Even when they messed things up, they still said one day it was gonna be different. That they were gonna make it big. So one day they decided they had to come to America to get their chance. But they didn’t have no boat. So they spent two years learning how to get across the ocean and building a secret boat out of old tires and tin walls and scrap wood and whatever else, and they traded a bunch of rations for a sail that was supposed to be magic and would always be full of wind.”
MetamorphosUS: Book 1 of the Mythfit Witch Mysteries Page 19