Hound

by Caleb James

  Marilyn froze. I knew this. I let this happen to my little girl.

  “You can’t fix me, Alex. And I do appreciate everything you’ve done.” She swept her hair back and looked him square on. “And I do mean everything. Sometimes child-molesting creeps fall down stairs and break their heads.” She whispered, but everyone in the kitchen heard, “And sometimes they need a push. I’ll get through this. What’s one more bad thing? Do you remember Sadly?”

  “Of course. Today on Sadly.”

  She smiled. “Yup, today on Sadly we find Alice addicted to fairy dust. Though I’ve been without it for so long, maybe this is just a protracted withdrawal.”

  Changeling Marilyn looked to Marilyn. “Do you know how long it lasts?”

  Marilyn did, and did not want to say. Years, decades… some say once dusted never undusted.

  Alice looked up at her mother. “You don’t have to say it. I think I know. Today on Sadly Alice realizes that she is well and truly fucked… forever.”

  “Don’t say that,” Alex said.

  “It’s the truth, unless someone has a magic happy trick they can pull. It’s like every good feeling I ever had left when I stopped using dust. There’s nothing left in here, but… the bad stuff. And can we please talk about something other than me. Tell Mom about Finn… and Nimby.”

  “Sure.” Shoulder to shoulder with his sister, he looked up at the assembled. “It’s weird having the two of you here,” he said, looking at the carbon copies of Marilyn. He focused on the one with the disheveled hair and raggedy Renaissance-fair robes. “But first, how did you get here? ’Cause we tried to go through the mulberry in Fort Tryon Park. It didn’t work, or rather it took Finn and Nimby.”

  “Puka,” Marilyn said.

  Jerod, who’d been playing with Adam and the cats in the other room, joined them. “One nearly killed me.” He went to Alex and Alice and slid down beside them. “I nearly drowned.” He jabbed Alex in the side. “Though I did get some nice mouth-to-mouth.”

  “Please stop,” Alice said. “I could vomit.”

  “I think I did,” Jerod said. “I can still taste all the seaweed and crap. So where did you come out?”

  “The Hudson,” Marilyn said.

  “Makes sense,” Alex said. “It’s like this world and that one are pieces of bread in a sandwich.”

  “And the Mist is the filling,” Flora offered. “Three realms, three sisters, and all of the fey balance holding them apart.”

  “I must return,” Marilyn said. She stared into her teacup. Please give me words.

  “Dancing daisies and a dog howls in the night.”

  “It’s the Hound,” Flora said. She settled across from the two Marilyns. “Would it help if I spoke and you nodded if I have it right or not?”

  “Yes… thank you.”

  “There is war and chaos in Fey,” Flora said. Marilyn nodded.

  “You have brought your son Adam here to keep him safe.”

  Marilyn nodded again and looked to Alex. “Please. Please.”

  “I know what to do,” he said without hesitation. “And with Changeling Mom it’s not like before. Everyone thinks she’s you, so no need to go through all that social services bullshit… and she’s pretty cool.”

  Flora continued, almost like she could read Marilyn’s mind. “The Fey need a ruler. Without it they fall into war and chaos. It’s probably why they’ve tolerated May as long as they have, for even a despot who snacks on her subjects is preferable to anarchy.”

  Marilyn nodded. Her fingers trembled, and she had to put the cup down. I’m about to lose my last child. I have been a horrible mother. She looked at Alex and Alice. I made them suffer.

  Flora reached across the table and grabbed Marilyn’s hand. “This is not your fault,” she said. “Your children are strong. Adam will be safe here. And when the time is right, you will come back for him. You are doing what you must.”

  “Good words,” Marilyn said, but are they true? My last child. I am losing Adam. Though wasn’t he the first?

  “The rub,” Flora added. “And please stay with us, Marilyn, as I think you can help. The rub and possibly an explanation for why May is barking mad, despite having traveled inside your haffling children, is that there is another reason she is not whole. It’s obvious at this point, but what I now see is that she’s not been whole for millennia. Probably close to the time of the Mist and the separation of the three realms.”

  Marilyn strained to make sense of Flora’s words. There was truth here, truth she’d need to hang on to and bring back. “Not whole, how?”

  “Her heart,” Flora said. “She was betrothed to a man, a human man, but something more. He was the Hound. It’s not clear if the love was reciprocated, but the two had tremendous fun for quite a long time. If one believes in legends, and Irish history is ripe with them, the love between Queen May and the Hound lasted from before the Roman Empire fell to well into the dark ages. It was with him the deal was struck, and the worlds were separated to end the thousand-year war. Knowing enough of the history… or what the Irish call history, I suspect there was a trick on the Hound’s part, and that’s where he took back the piece that kept her whole. He took back his heart, though perhaps he never gave it. More importantly, he kept hers.”

  “Everyone howled,” Marilyn said. She threw back her head and bayed.

  The room quieted. All eyes were on her.

  “The two who passed through,” Flora said. “One was Alex’s little fairy, poor creature. She wasn’t all there to begin with, and I shudder to think what’s become of her. But the other, the man called Finn Hulain, I believe I know why he was let pass. Like all in this room, we are not brought together by chance but by fate. Finn Hulain, a man I’ve known since he was a little boy, is the Hound, or some incarnation of him. It is he who possesses what May most covets. It is he who must battle her.”

  Twenty-Eight

  “I NEED clothes.” Finn rummaged naked through Redmond’s closet. “This is not anything I’m used to.” He chuckled and pawed through robes of green, blue, purple, and rust, many of them festooned with intricate embroidery and jewels. “Where’s gray, black, khaki, olive green?”

  “Questions, Finn,” Redmond cautioned.

  “I know, but really. On you it looks good…. I don’t like to stand out.”

  Redmond laughed as he took in Finn, with his flowing mane, imposing height, and body that, well…. “I will find clothes that suit. For now, let me see.” He pulled out a deep green tunic and loose white shirt that would just cover Finn’s ripped chest. “It’s the britches.”

  “I’ll wear a kilt.”

  “We’re not Scots.”

  “Right, I need to keep my crazy fairy worlds separated.”

  “The snark does not suit.”

  “No.” Finn grabbed Redmond from behind and held him close. “It helps. I may not have broken coming through. But finding that I can turn into a dog and can hear and smell things in a way that is so not human….” He nuzzled Redmond’s neck.

  “Tell me.” Redmond turned into him and gazed up as his hand splayed over the expanse of Finn’s chest.

  “My senses are different, like, altogether. Smells and sounds are thoughts, though putting them to words is not as easy as with sight. It’s like”—he ran the back of a hand down Redmond’s cheek—“they bypass words and go to emotions. No, that’s not quite right. Emotional knowing. I feel something and, without rational thought, know whether it’s truth or a lie.”

  “Give me a for instance.”

  “Sure.” His cheek brushed Redmond’s. “There… and that. A thing you hide from me. It seeps through your pores.”

  Redmond froze.

  He sniffed again. “And now the thing you hide turns to fear. But nuanced. It’s not the fear of May coming to eat us… that’s different. This is deeper. It’s old.” He inhaled hard and shook his head as if swirling a Bordeaux. “There are traces of things… disgust, loathing… desire… but mostly… hunge
r.” His eyes narrowed. “You are afraid to tell me something important. Something you hide. And now I am good and truly curious.”

  “I….”

  “You wish you could lie, and you cannot, Redmond. Nor would I want you to. Even now I’ve tripped your fear higher. Your pulse quickens, and not just from touch. You fear that once I learn—”

  “You will not want me.”

  “Do you murder kittens?”

  “Please, no questions.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they cost.”

  Redmond gave a half smile.

  “To whom will I be in debt?”

  “Please stop.”

  “Answer the question, Redmond.”

  “To the person of whom the question has been asked.”

  “So to you. I will be in debt to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. So tell me this secret, Redmond, and because I have asked so many questions, it’s clear that regardless of the awful truth, I will not leave your side until you weary of me and send me away… like the hound I have apparently become.”

  “Tell me of that.” Redmond attempted to dodge the interrogation. “Tell me of the Hound. He is inside of you.”

  Finn growled. “No. And remember I am a dog with a bone. It is not so easy. I feel the heat of your fear. You need not worry. I will know this thing that brings you sorrow. But first, to your diversion.” He played a hand through Redmond’s hair. “The Hound is spirit, and I am flesh. He is, I suspect, immortal, and I am not. He does not exist without a vessel, and as far as I can tell, he is an apt companion. For it is I, Finn Hulain, that steer this body. Although when we get all fuzzy and four-legged it’s more him than me, though I’m still inside of here. I smell, I hear everything. The eyes… not as good. The sense of direction and of purpose, it’s unreal. And I like it… a lot.”

  “So you are not the one who gave May the houndstone.”

  “Correct. It was the Hound and another… whatever I am to it. And considering the stone found its way to your possession via May’s sister Lizbeta, he… whoever he was, gave it and took it back. From what I’ve seen of May, she did not give it up willingly. He either stole it or took it by force.” He breathed in deep. His back widened, and his belly swelled like a Laughing Buddha. “So that’s it.”

  Redmond stiffened.

  Finn scowled. He sniffed Redmond’s neck, and then he licked it from the notch of his sternum to his ear. “Fear not.” And buck naked, he left the closet.

  Redmond’s gaze followed. He found it hard to draw breath as he stared at Finn and dreaded what was to come.

  Locked onto the scent, Finn nosed out the delicate inlaid table with its single drawer. He opened it to reveal Redmond’s stash—a single dust bunny. Without pause, he pissed on it. “How much are you using?” he asked as his stream hit the bunny. The sticky ovoid hissed, and with a brilliant silver flash, like an old-time camera, it vanished.

  “Too much,” Redmond admitted. He paused. “And none since yesterday.”

  “Are you hurting?” Finn asked.

  “Strangely, no.” He looked at his stash, or rather where it had been. There was an acrid tang of ozone… but no more bunny and no pee. He ran a finger inside the drawer. No trace of either remained. He brought it to his nose. “Nothing.”

  Finn nodded. “Redmond, we’ve just met, and I have little—no, wait, let me rephrase that—I have no experience of love. Other than I loved someone deeply who could only love me like a friend or a brother. And he died way too young. But in one day, I have walked between worlds, and I have found the most amazing and smart and funny man… with a killer ass. I kissed you before I took back the stone, so I don’t think what I feel is magic.”

  Redmond shook his head. He shut the drawer and walked to Finn. “It is magic. When the worlds were separated, all the magic stayed here with two exceptions—love and art. Those exist in all realms.”

  Finn lowered his head and touched his forehead to Redmond’s. “You feel something for me.”

  “Bastard, you just want me to say it first.”

  “We’ll say it together.”

  And they did. “I love you.”

  An explosion rocked the room.

  It was followed by the whistle and scream of fairy fire missiles. “Shit,” Finn cursed. “Do I ever catch a break?”

  They gripped each other’s hands and raced to the eastern-facing window.

  “Son of a bitch,” Finn muttered as he smelled and heard the formidable mixed-race army that approached the Center.

  Redmond drew a sigil to enhance his vision. He fleshed out the picture. “They are at the outer lake,” he explained. “It’s why I chose this location. The waters are deep and wide and provide a natural moat for the Center. She has brought an army.”

  “Tell me what you see, all of it.”

  “I see her. She rides a massive white salamander, which is a part of her. She looks solid. Her armor is a deep purple, and it glitters. A swarm of pixies is braiding her hair with colored diamonds.”

  “Okay, that I don’t need to know. I smell them, and everything reeks of dust.”

  Redmond nodded. “That’s how she’s doing it. Goddess preserve us.” His vision bounced from ogre, to pixie, to sprite. “They’re all dusted. She leads an army of addicts.”

  “She’s come for me,” Finn said.

  “No.” He gripped Finn’s hand.

  “It’s true. We both know it.” He hugged him tight. “But listen to me, Dr. Redmond Fall.” He smiled. “And me ending up with a doctor.”

  “It’s no time for jokes, Finn. She means to eat you, to take your heart. To make herself whole. To—”

  Finn placed a finger to Redmond’s lips. “Yes. To fill the hole. And the more I think of it, it’s not my heart she wants, but hers. That’s what that houndstone thingy is. Like a cage for her heart, and right now it’s inside of me.”

  Their eyes locked, and Finn continued. “Having finally found you, I’m not going. Not without a fight.” He kissed him with every fiber of his being. He wanted… no, needed Redmond to feel no doubt of his love. But more, he knew with the senses of the Hound and his years investigating fires that things could quickly go south.

  They pulled apart, the air thick between them.

  “I know something, Redmond. And I don’t know how I know it.”

  “Tell me.”

  “There is little doubt that fate brought me here. Brought me to you… and to her.”

  “Agreed, to argue chance at this point is ludicrous.”

  “But here’s the thing. And don’t ask me how I know this. I just do. At this moment, fate has been suspended. It’s like a fork in time that could go to the right or to the left. What happens now has not been written.”

  With their lips inches apart, Redmond whispered, “I see the possibility of such a thing, and so it must be truth.” He closed the distance, and like the halves of a circuit being thrown, they kissed.

  Finn’s pulse sped. He loved Redmond, without doubt or hesitation. But for the first time in his life, he knew that he was loved, without condition, without “I love you as a friend.” In that kiss, a lifetime of want and despair vanished, like a dust bunny pissed on by a hound.

  Twenty-Nine

  REELING FROM the kiss, Redmond shifted into crisis mode. He loves me. I am damned if I’ll be eaten… at least by her.

  He summoned Gark and the guards. His hands shook as he sent out an emergency sigil to all who resided within the Center. He placed words onto the magic. “This is not a test. This is not a test.” He’d always known this day would come. Queen May had tolerated the Center for centuries. He’d given her a reason to not raze it to the ground, but now she couldn’t care less about housing the Unsee’s most unsavory and unstable criminals—The guests. He’d always wondered why she didn’t just eat them all. Now was not the time to ponder. “This is not a test,” he stated one more time. “The Center… our Center is under siege. The queen’s army
is upon us. United we will not fall. I need all to meet in the grand auditorium in five minutes. The guests are exempt.”

  He turned to Finn. “Come. Throw on something and stand by my side.”

  “You don’t like me as I am?”

  “Another question in my debt. And as I said, I do not share.”

  “Good to know. I don’t share either, and I intend to dig myself deep into debt. What do you think of that?”

  “We mustn’t tarry. And we must retrieve your broken Nevus fairy.”

  “My what?” He smirked.

  “Your Nimby. We must prepare for all eventualities.”

  “I ain’t leaving.”

  Redmond grabbed a fistful of Finn’s chest hair.

  “Oww!”

  “All eventualities, Finn. While fate may have taken a break, we can’t diminish our options. She came with you for a reason. We need her now.”

  “Fine, I’ll follow, and you lead.” Finn picked up the shirt and green tunic Redmond had picked out. The former ended at midabdomen, and the latter split from calf to armpit with his first step. “Screw this.” He ripped them off, grabbed one of Redmond’s blue robes, and belted it around his waist. It fell to just above his knees and gaped over his hairy chest. “It’s this or nothing,” he said. “The naughty bits are covered.”

  “It’ll do,” Redmond said. He averted his gaze and damped down his arousal. We’re under attack. Stop thinking about….

  Minutes later Redmond stood in front of the packed auditorium. Behind him to the left stood Gark and his uniformed lieutenants, and to his right was Finn with Nimby, swirling like an asteroid around his head.

  Those who could not find seats, stood—or flew—five and six deep around the periphery.

  Still more flooded the broad square out front.

  “The Center will not fall,” Redmond said. “She will lay siege. Our walls are thick, our foundations run deep, and the magic that protects us will not be breached. Not by her, not by anyone.”