The Flame Game

by R. J. Blain

  I could only hope the bone-deep thrumming tone warning of mass destruction scared the living animals away.

  The CDC brought in aerial tankers to help spread napalm faster, and the pink, sparkly, and spicy gel rained down, splattering onto the snow-laden trees and shimmering in the air. Had I not known its purpose, I would have thought it was beautiful.

  I considered that as some napalm splattered onto my nose and I licked it off. No, the gel was beautiful, but it would destroy all it touched, which made me sad.

  I preferred when such beautiful destruction was limited to the works of man rather than nature.

  To test if I could light the napalm, I transitioned from a walk to a canter, weaving through the trees until my coat burst into flame. The napalm raining from the sky ignited when it came into contact with me, and pools of fire spread around me.

  Perfect.

  With nothing else to do, I waited.

  No napalm bender equaled no hangover, but no napalm bender also equaled general exhaustion. I made three circuits around Long Lake before I managed to get the fire lit sufficiently for the inferno to gain a life of its own. Playing in the flames amused me, but within an hour, I grew bored, wandered to the barrier closest to my husband and pets, and rolled around in the smoldering ash while complaining over the unfairness of it all.

  Quinn approached the shield, chuckling his amusement at my antics. “Problem, my beautiful?”

  “Tiny terrors steal my bender,” I whined. “Now it just work, work, work. Work, work, work, work. More work. And more work. Run hard, fire burn. Bored. Not be bored if bendering!”

  “I won’t argue with that. You all right?”

  “Bored.”

  “How terrible for you, to be bored but safe. I grieve for you.”

  “Sarcasm in good form today, Queeny. Do more.”

  “I’ll think about it. Are you all right?”

  “Snow gone, no bender. Hungry.” I flopped and stretched out my neck until my nose touched the barrier. “Why sound pass but not fire or ash?”

  “Magic.”

  Right. Of course. “Hungry.”

  My husband checked his phone. “Even after that much napalm?”

  “Run a lot, napalm all gone. No bender. Life not fair.”

  According to the sounds coming from Quinn’s phone, he was taking pictures of me. “You will be pleased to find out a standard rabies treatment eradicated the disease in our new pet wolf. However, he’s very ill, so he’s going to a CDC vet to see how they can aid in his recovery. I’m going to end up begging my grandfather to help heal your new pet wolf. After they bring the barrier down, which will be in about thirty minutes judging from the burn rates around the lake, we will both get treated for rabies. Our pets are not being treated, but we’ll be returning the rental in a suspicious shade of pink they’ll eventually get washed off. The CDC has contacted the company so we’re not responsible for damage to the paint, as they’ll repaint the vehicle if needed. They’re saying they claimed our rental for official business. After that, we get to go on our merry way. So, my beautiful, where would you like to go for the rest of our actual vacation?”

  “Home. I done with vay-cay-shun! No more vay-cay-shun. Tired.”

  “Sure, my beautiful. We can go home.”

  I got to my hooves and shook myself off. “Get map. One more task. Chalk, ink, map, paper, and marbles.”

  “Ah. Dowry’s uncle.”

  “Yes. Find uncle and then go home. Or at least a general location, then go home, sleep for week, and then go to location?”

  “You’re so tired.” My husband headed off, returning several minutes later with my box of wayfinding tricks. He sat in the snow near the barrier and put down a towel. Once he had that situated to his liking, he spread out a map of the United States, set a sheet of paper beside it, got out the ink vial and opened it, and pulled out a stick of chalk. “Okay. What do you want me to do with this stuff?”

  I pointed a claw at the map. “Crush chalk, dump on map.”

  Quinn obeyed, and he crushed it in one hand with little effort before brushing off his hands and leaving a dusty pile all over the map.

  “Sexy,” I stated. “Crush with no effort. Much manly. All mine.”

  He laughed. “If that’s all it takes to make you think I’m sexy, I’ll crush chalk for you whenever you want.”

  I glared at the map and paper. “Where Dowry missing uncle? Be nice, magic, much tired, no games. No games, be nice. Guide me to Dowry missing uncle. Or give add-dress. Add-dress good. Alive or dead also good. No more mean magic. Please.”

  My husband laughed so hard he doubled over. “Every time I think I can’t possibly love you any more, you go and do something like that.”

  I glared at the pile of chalk, the paper, and ink, which did absolutely nothing.

  “Now!” I barked at the uncooperative supplies.

  My order only made my husband laugh harder, and he fell over into the snow.

  Maybe my husband wasn’t taking me seriously, but my magic decided to behave itself. A shimmering, pink blotch appeared on the map, and black text appeared on the paper, which I couldn’t read between my unwillingness to lift my head from where I sulked on the ground and the shimmering barrier dividing me from my husband. “Stop laughing, start reading.”

  It took him several minutes, but he sat up, picked up the paper, and read it. “Well, according to this, he’s alive, there’s a name, there’s a phone number, and an address in Delaware.” Quinn referenced the map. “And the pink splotch on the map is over Delaware.”

  “Can I nap now?”

  “Sure, Bailey. You can nap now. What do you want to do about this?”

  “Del-a-ware on way home. We go in-ves-ti-gate before home. Then we go home, and no more vay-cay-shun. Only home, where sleep for month.”

  “It’s not quite on the way home, but I guess it’s close enough. Alas, we don’t have a month to sleep, my beautiful.”

  “Well, that is sad.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be okay.”

  While life was often not fair, it wasn’t always cruel, and not all disappearances ended with grief or sorrow.

  Before we headed home, we went to the address in Delaware, which proved to be a state-run mental institution, and the name was that of the doctor in charge of Commissioner Dowry’s uncle, who was known as John Doe to them, for they’d never been able to find any leads on the man’s family due to his Alzheimer’s.

  They hadn’t known he hadn’t been diagnosed prior—and they hadn’t known he’d been a sudden onset victim listed as a missing person in a different state.

  As the state couldn’t pay for an angel to reverse the damage without familial request, Dowry’s uncle lived a quiet life in a wing dedicated to dementia patients.

  In the paperwork we were permitted to review due to our badges and that the Dowry case was our jurisdiction, we learned Dowry’s uncle would need months to be able to recover—assuming he received the right care. The hospital had laid out a treatment plan, including everything they thought was needed to let him live happily outside of their walls. He had a good record, calm disposition, and was considered to be an ideal long-term patient who caused no trouble beyond needing to use a script to remind him why he was there and distract him when he wanted to remember his past.

  At sixty-three and otherwise healthier than an ox, he’d be a long time dying, living in a fog without memory or identity.

  It took us two hours at the hospital, a trip back to our precinct, more forms than I liked, and another few hours at the hospital to begin the mandatory treatments required to let him go home. The effort exhausted me, and I wondered how Quinn handled his day-to-day work, as it somehow seemed routine to him.

  Instead of asking, I watched and tried to learn—and wondered how much would have changed if I’d known about the man.

  According to the angel who came to begin the treatment, he would be ready to meet his family and resume life sometime near Easter. />
  The drive to our house went by in silence while I tried to make sense of my magic, how easy it had been to solve such an old case, and what would have changed if only I’d known to look for him sooner.

  “Okay, Bailey. Spill. What’s wrong?”

  “I wouldn’t call it wrong. I was just wondering what would have happened if I hadn’t hid what I am.”

  “That you’re my most beautiful cindercorn and wife?”

  “Wayfinder.”

  “I don’t know. What I do know is that when we invite Commissioner Dowry to spend Easter with us, we’ll be bringing quite the surprise with us. I’ve decided we’ll be visiting Delaware at least three times a week during his treatments, and I’ll be bringing the familial records from the case. His family did a lot of work trying to find him.”

  “How did they miss him in Delaware?”

  “He had no symptoms of the disease, Bailey. That’s why. Why would we look for that? We had queried about amnesia patients. He’s not an amnesia patient. He’s an Alzheimer’s patient. And so you now see one of the many failings of law enforcement.” My husband sighed. “I don’t know if you would have found him sooner. Was your magic strong enough then? How does your magic work? Does it need the weight of longing from others to work? When you looked for proof of Audrey’s guilt, it was one of the most important things I needed in my life.”

  I understood what he meant. “When I went to find you, you were the most important thing in my life.”

  “When you found Avalanche, you wanted her for me.”

  “Returning to being among the most important things in my life. And then Janet would have counted, too.”

  “My point is, every time you’ve used your magic, it has been something truly and desperately important to you. Finding him wasn’t necessarily that important to you, but years of not knowing creates a sense of desperation. I’m willing to bet that fueled your magic more than your personal desire. Have you ever looked for anything truly trivial?”

  I spent the rest of the drive thinking about that. When he pulled into our driveway, a cruiser waited for us. “No, I’ve never looked for anything truly trivial. Why are there cops in our driveway again? I swear, Sam, if someone tried to burn down our house again, I’m going to kick ass, take names, and need bail.”

  “It’s a deterrent cruiser the Queens cops parked with a camera running to monitor. Don’t take your clothes off until we’re inside.”

  “Why would I take my clothes off before we’re inside?”

  “I’m that sexy, and I failed in my duties to provide to your every need two nights in a row. You’re thirsty for me.”

  I was? I mean, when wasn’t I? I stared at him. “Do you need something, Sam?”

  “Desperately. Please.”

  I laughed. “The faster we get our pets and our shit inside, the sooner I take care of your special needs. Move it, Samuel Leviticus Quinn. I don’t have all night.”

  Damn, he sure could move when motivated.

  Epilogue: It was the little things in life.

  Easter Morning.

  I recruited the Devil to help me with my dirty work, tricked my mother-in-law into recruiting Sam to help with everything, gave the kids to The Grandfather Quinns, all bazillion of them spread over a ridiculous number of generations, and took Sunny, Rabies the Wonder Wolf, Blizzard, and Avalanche to retrieve Jeffrey Dowry so he could be reunited with his family.

  Rabies the Wonder Wolf, cured of the disease that had almost killed him, suffered from severe separation anxiety and couldn’t handle life without Sam or I nearby. One day, he might adapt better, but of all the problems we could have with our latest rescue, we could handle separation anxiety.

  Until then, we accommodated him, although I wouldn’t mind when he learned he could wait outside of the bathroom rather than on my feet.

  Nothing made going to the bathroom more interesting or complicated than dealing with a ninety-five pound wolf firmly pressed to my legs the entire damned time. As far as I could tell, he feared the toilet might rise up and get me if he didn’t keep a close and careful eye on me.

  In good news for my sanity, Rabies the Wonder Wolf loved car rides.

  It was the little things in life.

  The Devil heaved a sigh. “I can’t believe you’re making me do good deeds on Easter. I’m going to catch some disease if I do this. Face eternal shame. I might die.”

  “Look, I can’t drive two vehicles at the same time, Lucy. You need to drive this so I can drive my present for Sam. You know, the one you helped me acquire?”

  “Yes, I seem to recall striking a bargain with a naughty cindercorn so my wife wouldn’t be stolen from me, potentially permanently, as the caretaker of your gorgons, your gorgon-mice-rat doohickeys, and the rest of your menagerie. It’s bad enough you’ve recruited me to make sure your various doohickeys have the perfect Easter. I had to recruit the fucking assholes to make rodent-sized dishes, furniture, and everything they might need to be happy in their basement mansion. At least you were willing to accept quails as replacements for miniature turkeys.”

  “Okay, I can accept I may have gotten slightly overenthusiastic over my varied Easter preparations.”

  “We’re going to end up triggering an apocalypse in the Plaza, and you invited every single member of your family to help end the world.”

  “Lucy, it’s dinner. You won’t die. Or face eternal shame. Your father might want a hug, but I’m not responsible for that. Just hug him and act happy.”

  “Do you know who you’re talking to?”

  “Yes. Uncle Lucy, who likes unicorns. Not just unicorns, cindercorns. And as you like cindercorns, and I’m precisely a hundred percent of the current breeding population of the entire species, you love me.” As I was driving, I couldn’t point at my stomach, which was already beginning to show evidence of the tiny terrors occupying my insides. “You particularly love the tiny terrors on the way. And naughty uncles don’t get invited to hold the babies right away, where nice uncles who dance to my tune get invited to the delivery and get to hold the babies.”

  “You win.”

  “I had this figured out, but thank you for reaffirming that.”

  The Devil laughed, and we spent the rest of the drive to the hospital talking about how best to integrate Jeffrey with his family.

  We both needed some serious tutoring on how to handle important and serious things with grace, as neither one of us came up with any good ideas on how to make sure things worked out as we wanted.

  My husband’s new SUV, which the Devil’s wife had brought to the hospital, waited in the secure lot, and I loaded the pets into it after making sure everything was in good order. I giggled at the flame-orange bow in the back. Leaving the animals in the Devil’s care, I went inside to discover Jeffrey waited in the entry fiddling with his tie and fidgeting.

  “Ready?” I asked, painfully aware he had nothing to take home with him.

  “As ready as I can be. Dr. Rassen says it’ll be difficult to adjust, especially since I keep remembering things. But I remember my sister and brother. And their children.”

  “If you’re not ready, we can always reschedule. They just think we invited them to dinner because I’m a new chief, and apparently, family dinners with the commissioner and his family is a thing the new chiefs do at least once. And since my family is as ridiculous as my husband’s family, we had to take over an entire damned hotel to fit everybody. I brought my uncle with me, so you get a choice of vehicles. You can go on a ride with the Devil, or you can join me with two wolves, a husky, and an ocelot.”

  “Did you just say I could go on a ride with the Devil? Is he your uncle?”

  “Yes, and yes.”

  Jeffrey blinked. “But how?”

  As he handled the news my uncle was the Devil, I figured he might be able to handle the insanity waiting for us at the hotel. “I married the Devil’s nephew. Well, great nephew. It’s complicated. He’s a pretty nice guy, he just likes to pretend he’s
all evil. Really, he’s not all that good at being evil. Just pretend you’re awed. His native language is sarcasm.”

  “Are you going to be offended if I go with the Devil?”

  “Absolutely not, especially since the Devil is probably trying to convince Rabies the Wonder Wolf the world is not ending. I dared to leave him in the SUV.”

  “You have a wolf you named Rabies?”

  “Well, he was rabid when we found him, and it’s a miracle he’s recovered so well, so he’s Rabies the Wonder Wolf. That plus he immediately developed separation anxiety, so we have to take him everywhere until we can convince him he won’t be abandoned.”

  “You have a wolf.”

  “Technically, we have three wolves, but Belinda is more standoffish, and she doesn’t like to leave home. She loves people, but car rides scare her, and she’s not good about going new places. We’re working on that, but it’ll take time. She just likes people too much to be released into the wild. Belinda is a very good wolf! We have a big enclosure for our pack, although Rabies the Wonder Wolf and Sunny sleep in our room. Belinda has herself a cozy den in her enclosure, so she’s happy. Apparently, Belinda needs a friend that’s not Rabies the Wonder Wolf or Sunny, so we’re waiting for a rescue so she can have a proper pack. That will be fun. By fun, I mean, we don’t need more wolves, but we’re going to end up with more wolves. We’re going to need a bigger house. Again.”

  Jeffrey stared at me. “Are you nervous?”

  Damn. Jeffrey had learned my ways. “Maybe.”

  “I can tell. You’re positively babbling.”

  “I just want everything to be perfect today, and I neglected to tell my husband I was bringing you to dinner. In fact, my husband still thinks we’re three weeks out from the reunion.”

  “I see. You are being sneaky, and you are afraid he will disapprove.”