“It takes one day to travel to the Carmine domain,” Lucy murmured. “About eight hours to drive. I don’t know how long it takes by the paths they’re traveling. Do we-”
The massive animal limbs dipped into the ground, creating sinkholes in their wake. The three of them backed away.
“-intercept?” Lucy finished.
“I don’t know exactly how it works,” Avery said.
“Let’s figure out what the heck happened,” Verona said. “There might be clues there.”
Lucy stared at the trees where Charles had escaped for a few long seconds. Her heart didn’t even feel like it was beating, her entire body numb to things like breathing and heartbeat, a vague sense of discomfort in her upper chest and lower throat that she supposed might be the ‘heart in your throat’ sensation she’d heard about.
She made herself act. Lucy texted Matthew, letting him know Charles was free. Matthew could be ready to power the barrier, muster the various defenses, and confront Charles if he showed.
Then she texted Zed, to pass on the same info.
She took a few steps back, then took a picture of the left side of the Blue Heron school. Two giant holes in the earth, metal poles like power lines with wires stretching between them, a good portion knocked over by Durocher’s creature. A portion of the grounds between where they stood and the treeline was dipping, the soil between patches of grass cracked, grass torn. Further away, trees had toppled and more electric fencing had fallen.
Purple streaked the sky and the clouds from the western horizon. It was intense color, like how the sunsets and sunrises were always more vivid after a storm, but there hadn’t been rain here. Maybe it was the dust in the air, still settling.
It looks like they tore through here like it was trivial.
She sent it to Zed.
His reply came back: Is Raymond ok?
“Miss Durocher!” Lucy called out.
Durocher was standing near the woods, talking to goblins. She looked over, then beckoned.
“Is Raymond okay!?”
Durocher didn’t reply. There was a mob of about ten or twelve of the goblins, about three Doglick’s size, and the rest ranging between that and Cherrypop’s size.
They approached, but a goblin was throwing poop, apparently, other goblins were complaining and hissing, and they stopped just short of doing anything to Durocher herself. With the electric fence running along the edge of the school property and the thrown poop, they couldn’t really pass or approach.
“Silence,” Durocher said. “If any of you insist on interrupting, I may have you devoured.”
The goblins fell silent, looking at one another. The poop throwing stopped.
“They’re probably trying to figure out if they can frame another of their buddies, just to see the spectacle,” Verona said.
“There may be collateral damage,” Durocher told the goblins. “I may have all of you eaten at once to be safe. Go. We will send someone out to you. Perhaps Liberty. We will sort things out. For now, stay away.”
“Liberty!” a small goblin said.
“Go,” Durocher said, in a warning tone.
The goblins left.
“Come,” Durocher told the three of them.
They hurried to follow. Lucy tried to navigate around the thrown scat, which was harder than it sounded, because Durocher’s monster had scattered clumps of brown earth everywhere as it had erupted, some from deep enough that it resembled mud.
Estrella and Nicolette were with Raymond, who was kneeling in the dirt. The tricky footing shifted away from trying to find ground without mud or poop on it to avoiding the stray wires. They were thin enough they were hard to see in peripheral vision, but where they touched ground they had burned grass. A handful of fairies, small and wasp-winged, had gone into the fencing like bugs to a bug zapper. Lucy avoided stepping on the tiny bodies.
“Oh no,” Avery said. “Poor tinkerbells.”
“They aren’t sapient,” Durocher said. “They have brains only large enough for one thought. They evoke sympathy by being human in shape. They’re best compared to spiders, spinning simple glamour as the spider spins webs.”
“I put spiders outside if I find them in an inconvenient spot,” Avery said.
“As the case may be,” Durocher said.
Avery looked at Lucy and Verona, the three of them following behind the awkward, mousy woman. Lucy shrugged. She didn’t really understand that either.
“Is Ray okay?” Lucy asked. “Zed’s asking.”
“We’ll see.”
They walked between tree and fence at the very edge of the Blue Heron property, the air buzzing with power running through the wires, turned the corner, and walked over to where Ray was.
Ray’s eyes were closed, and he wasn’t wearing his usual sunglasses. He knelt a bit awkwardly, hunched forward, one hand on the grass. Nicolette was crouched by Seth, and Estrella was trying to make her way around the wire fences.
“Mr. Sunshine, Zed’s asking if you’re okay,” Lucy said.
“Is that the Kennet Witches?”
“Yes,” Verona said.
“I hope you’re alright. Tell him not to worry. I’m blind, temporarily I hope, my spirit and ego have taken a beating, but… he shouldn’t worry.”
Lucy began typing. He’s ok.
She sent it, then began sending the longer message.
“Do you want me to heal you? Or break the curse?” Durocher asked. “A bit of power, fix whatever it is that’s ailing you.”
“Marie. Didn’t realize you were there. Would my eyes be human eyes after?”
“I could call Ulysse or Amine.”
“Perhaps Amine. I’d feel… distressed if Ulysse wanted to fix a curse in the same way he did for Estrella.”
“That’s theatrics only. But we’ll use Amine. The threat’s over.”
“They got away,” Raymond said.
Lucy nodded, then remembered he was blind. “Yes.”
She’d seen the distant figures disappear into the trees. They’d thought about going over the labyrinth of electric fences, but when Avery had started running to get the horizontal momentum for a leap over, the fence had risen in anticipation of her ascent. They might’ve tried to break through, but between Durocher’s monster raging around and the nature of the security system, they’d decided to play it safe.
They weren’t students here anymore.
“Amine’s outside the school but can’t cross the grounds,” Durocher said. “I could clear a path but the staff have enough to do to clean up.”
“Nicolette kicked my phone under the fence. If you could help me find it?”
Durocher walked over and found the phone in the grass. She put it in Raymond’s hand.
The fence dropped away. The wires reeled in, then the posts smoothly slid beneath the soil, leaving divots of plain dirt at regular intervals across the property.
“That work?” he asked.
“Yes,” Durocher said, helping him to his feet. “Amine’s jogging over.”
“We might have to go,” Avery said. “We thought we’d try to intervene, we know Maricica, we know Lis, the doppleganger, we thought maybe we could spot Lis or exploit a weakness. They swore oaths not to hurt us.”
“Estrella thinks they might be taking a shortcut through the Faerie realms,” Raymond said.
“Any number of routes,” Estrella said. “Faerie makes sense, but they might think we know that.”
“That’s a tricky game, because if we don’t think they’ll go that way…” Avery said.
“It’s a game I’m comfortable playing,” Estrella said. “Mr. Sunshine, with permission, I’ll send a silver-lined letter. We can make the Faerie difficult to cross, while-”
“Please,” Raymond said.
“Where do we think they’re going?” Estrella asked.
“Kennet,” Lucy said. “But it’s not that simple.”
“It rarely is. Excuse me.”
Estrella hurried off.
“Silver lined letter?” Avery asked.
“A letter to Estrella’s family court. We’ve had her send a few to requisition certain services or cut past red tape in other courts. We did so with our field trip. A request for a favor, they’ll send out soldiers to look for your Faerie. I trust Estrella to handle it. If it’s too expensive, we’ll cover the costs for her. Once they’ve secured and alerted appropriate regions of the Faerie, they’ll send soldiers to other realms.”
“Will it work?” Verona asked.
“If she thought it would lead to her capture, which most freely itinerant Faerie would be smart enough to consider, then I doubt she would have. But there’s merit to closing off options. The price of doing so is minor, all considered.”
“I can send something overland,” Durocher said. “If my other creature could be called a guard dog, I can send a hunting hound.”
“Do. Nip their heels if you can, give them less room to rest.”
“Whatever you send, we need it to not obliterate Kennet’s perimeter,” Lucy said. “It could help Charles more than it hurts him.”
“Hmm. Perhaps communicate that to Estrella,” Raymond said.
“I’ll go do that,” Avery said.
“You have my permission to enter the school,” Raymond said.
“Oh yeah, probably need that. Okay!” Avery said, before breaking into a run across the damaged field.
“Durocher, can you rein your summon in?” he asked.
“Yes. I’ll send it to Kennet, and have it stop short of the perimeter. I’ll see if something else can track their scent, but-” Durocher stopped to look over toward the trees. Fae flowers seemed to almost glow in the gloom. “-I do believe they’ve accounted for conventional tracking methods.”
“There’s another route they could take,” Lucy said. “It takes one day to travel to the Carmine Domain. I think if the stage is set in Kennet-”
“The gates are basically open,” Verona said. “I was looking at the Demesne ritual the other night and you can’t seal everyone out and make a challenge at the same time. I think it’s the same thing.”
Lucy nodded. “They could travel in virtually any direction with the Carmine realm in mind, keep an eye out for the landmark, then a day later they’d arrive on our doorstep.”
“I would be ready for a confrontation on your doorstep, then,” Raymond said. “I don’t think we’re equipped to cover all the roads they might’ve taken, and if any one could lead them to Kennet…”
“Yeah,” Lucy said.
Nicolette adjusted her glasses, pushing hair away from her forehead. “It does mean you have time to prepare. The Faerie isn’t a very good shortcut realm, it meanders. Estrella has her contacts looking for Charles and Maricica, I can’t imagine they’d make timely progress through a meandering space like the Faerie realm with people looking for them or slowing them down. Other roads would be complicated and less familiar, Charles is too vulnerable for the Ruins or the Abyss, Maricica would wither away trying to pass through Warrens.”
“So the only real route they can safely and realistically travel is one that takes a day to travel?” Lucy asked.
“That would be my assumption,” Nicolette replied.
“As I said, we might not expect Durocher’s so-called hound to catch them, but we can expect it to limit their options. Closing doors,” Raymond said.
“Do you know when the deadline is?” Nicolette asked. “Is it a specific time?”
“I do. I- I saw. The ritual starts the day of, the judges decide the actual start time. Then it should be a series of one on one contests. When there’s nobody left, they call an end to it. No spectators, but people can enter any time until it’s done.”
“How long does it take?”
“The ritual I saw… hours. Some Others reached the venue and joined in late, but a lot of them were pretty insignificant. It was like a housecat fighting a lion.”
Amine reached Ray. He wore a loose-fitting top and heavy pants in a foreign style that looked like they could be a dress if you didn’t see where they parted. His belt was heavy, broader than Lucy’s hand, and had sub-belts and pouches dangling from it, some as low as his knee. Rolls of paper and two small books were tucked into some of the pockets. His hair was long and braided, and strands framed his face as he looked up at Durocher.
“Curse. Blinding, I believe,” Durocher told her apprentice.
Amine reached for Ray’s eyes, paused, then said, “I’m going to touch your face.”
“Alright.”
“Didn’t want you flinching or using that cell phone on me,” Amine said. He touched Ray’s eyelids, then pulled his fingers away. He sniffed one, then licked it. “Hmm.”
“What is it?” Ray asked.
“Sticky. One of the bitterest things I’ve ever tasted. This is black honey. Estrella would be the one to ask.”
“I can tell you. A component used in some practices, especially dark Fae ones,” Raymond said. “It helps curses and maledictions to stick. Certain mixtures and creations by expert Fae of the Dark Fall create an oil that spreads a lesser version of the curse to the first person to attempt to remove it, countering the removal. In essence, it forces the afflicted to find two ways to remove the curse. One that will absorb the oil’s purpose, afflicting another, and another that will remove it from one of the afflicted.”
“This is too sticky to be called oil,” Amine said.
“Good. Then it’s the honey alone. That means the curse should be stubborn and long-lasting, but little more than that. I think the curse is very elementary, at the very least.”
“She’s a young Fae,” Verona said.
Ray went on, “Give the honey its time to dry before trying to remove the curse, Amine, thank you. If it’s alright, I’ll call you later about the removal,” Raymond said. “Nicolette, Durocher, if you could escort me back to my office? Any sign of weakness is going to have its ramifications. I’ll have to get ahead of that. I can do some of my work by voice and sound alone. And Durocher, would you look after the younger students? Many haven’t eaten or finished eating.”
“I will,” Durocher said.
“Assign some of the gentler older students to looking after them. They may be anxious or insecure after an attack.”
“Of course.”
Implication being that Durocher isn’t gentle enough on her own. Which is fair, Lucy thought.
Raymond was guided by Nicolette. Durocher remained nearby. It seemed like she intended to go handle the students after helping him back.
“And Seth. He might need healing,” Ray said. He’d looked defeated before but maybe in some way doing all this and organizing his thoughts gave him strength. He turned closed eyes in Seth’s general direction.
“I can look after him,” Amine said.
“If he regains consciousness and isn’t in critical condition, then secure him in the quarters Charles was staying in. You’ll have to fix the window they put in the wall and then shattered. We’ll keep him prisoner for now, question him, then find a way forward, if that’s acceptable to Nicolette?”
“You took charge of him, I trust your judgment.”
“Oh. Yeah. Thank you, yes, keeping him somewhere secure makes sense. Are we renewing protections?”
“Some, and soon. We’ll expend the time and effort when we know what we’re doing.”
“Damn it, Seth,” Nicolette whispered, looking down at the guy who’d curled up into a partial fetal position, passed out.
“Many of our defenses are aimed at an attack from the outside,” Raymond told Durocher, head turned in her general direction. She stepped into the spot he was facing and guided him by holding one arm. “Even your summoning was. We weren’t ready enough for someone on the inside going the other direction.”
Durocher replied, “Alexander didn’t want to have any meaningful defenses that could be pointed at the students. Imagine the Bristow-Belanger conflict if one of them had the ability to turn school security against a portion of the student body.”
“Mmm.”
“Can we ask what happened?” Lucy asked, following behind Raymond, as he was helped back in the direction of the school.
“I can tell you what we know,” Raymond said. “If Zed sets something up, I can get you back to Kennet quickly, as well.”
“Texting him…” Verona said, voice fading off mid-sentence as she got her phone.
“Thank you, by the way,” Lucy added. “I’m sorry this mess came from our neck of the woods and landed in your lap, kinda.”
“Thanks,” Verona followed up. “And yeah, sorry.”
“If you’d heard Charles talking, I think you’d know there was likely no world where he got any power or opportunity and didn’t aim something at me and the Blue Heron.”
“He’s angry?” Lucy asked.
“I’m reminded of my divorce,” Raymond said. He walked with the guidance of Durocher and Nicolette on either side of him. “Anger is something you can get over. Resentment is often the death of a relationship. I’ve found that proven true many times over the course of my life. Charles has had a decade to distill his resentment down to something dangerous.”
Lucy wondered about the distinction where she’d run into it. Who or what did she resent? Who or what was she angry at?
Something to think about.
“Zed was already working on setting up the way back a few minutes after we left,” Verona said.
“Good for him. He’s sharp. Do you want me to start from the beginning?” Raymond asked.
Lucy looked at Verona. “Hrm. That’d be helpful, but for right now-”
“Watch your footing. Dirt clods and torn up ground,” Nicolette said. “Almost there.”
“Thank you,” Raymond said.
Lucy paused, second-guessing her question, then decided to ask, even if it was awkward. “We might be facing something very similar to what happened here in twenty-four hours, I guess. Give or take.”
“Hey,” Verona said.
“Hm?” Lucy asked.
“When we first went to see the Judges, the way it worked was you counted as traveling to your destination, even with stops to rest.”
“We camped.”
“Yeah. But I think that means he could stop places to get what he needs. Equipment, tools, allies…”
Lucy nodded.
“So he might come prepared,” Nicolette said. “And with what you said about the time window for the application to the contest… I can’t say it myself, out of concern for oaths made to you.”
“He could show up for the Carmine Trial at any time,” Verona said. “Any time before it ends.”
“You were going to ask me a question,” Raymond said.
“What would you do differently?”
“That’s a difficult question, especially so soon after. I think I’d struggle to name five things that work as advice,” Raymond said. “Give me tonight to dwell on it and I may be able to name two hundred in the morning.”
“Difficult on two fronts,” Nicolette said. “One second. Door.”
She pushed the door open.
They led Ray inside.
“The way Charles phrased things at the end. Made it harder than it had to be. I think… the student’s notes. Seth asking to see Charles. You’re not trying to stop a train or block someone in your way, if you’ll pardon the metaphors,” Raymond said. “It’s a river you’re trying to dam. If there are any leaks, any weaknesses, your entire attempt may collapse. The Fae plans will worm through, evolve. Then, given time, decades for a river, moments for a Fae, it will look like it was always meant to be that way. Like it was always that way, as if the river had been there forever, the Fae’s plan arranged that way from the start.”
That, weird as it sounded, made Lucy feel a bit better about this. About Charles’ escape. Only a bit better.
“But what do we do about that?” Lucy asked.
“Brush up on your ability to build dams,” Raymond said. “Or assume it’ll break and spare more thought for the aftermath.”
One day, four hours. Gotta get ready.
Holy fuck, Charles is free.
They’d come back from the Blue Heron, had dinner, scrambled to get sorted.
Charles was free.
Now Verona did the opposite of scrambling. She dawdled.
Lucy found a sock and pitched it at the back of Verona’s head. It stuck there, by static or traction on scruffy hair.
Verona turned and smiled. Then she dropped the sock into her bag. She didn’t fold her stuff so much as she rolled it into tubes and stacked the tubes.
Lucy helped by scouring the general surroundings. Between bed and desk, by the shelves. Under the bed.
“You going to be okay?” she asked.
Verona shrugged. “I’ll be back tomorrow night. Not that we’re sleeping much tomorrow night. Just going over for a test run. Test run.”
Verona clicked her tongue.
“It’s a lot,” Lucy said.
“Way I figure it, either it’ll be the same old, or it’ll be worse, and if it’s worse then maybe I can guilt you into letting me become a cat.”
Lucy held off on saying the first thing that came to mind, then said, “If it’s worse, we’ll discuss it. As a group. We’ll figure out something like we all got together and figured out you coming here. That worked out okay, didn’t it?”
“I worry we hurt our friendship,” Verona said.
Lucy blinked a few times.
“Or this entire Carmine thing did. Or some combination of it all.”
“Did it?” Lucy whispered.
“Or the Jeremy thing did,” Verona said, quiet.
“Hurt our friendship?”
“I dunno,” Verona told her. “I… you don’t listen sometimes, which is really dumb when you’ve got that earring. I told you before, day before last, before I went to see Jeremy, uh, something like, I appreciate the apology, I appreciate the turnaround, you’re cool, but like… you were really hard on me and really not listening at a really, really tough time. And I love you, you’re my best friend, but that’s a thing that happened.”
“I was fighting as hard as I was because I wanted to stop anything from- from coming down the road later, that’d hurt our friendship.”
“But like…” Verona started. She threw a shirt down into her bag with some force. “…You do realize where I was at, right?”
“Stuff’s tough with your dad, we’re under stress, Jeremy’s your… outlet? You’re smarter and more careful than we give you credit for.”
“No. I mean… the argument. For you that’s a Tuesday, except not really but you know what I mean. But for me to get that upset? To let it show? To… I dunno. Telling Jeremy stuff about my dad I really regret telling him now? That’s like, it’s like you and Paul at the gas station. Situation normal all fucked up, no control.”
Lucy swallowed.
“I really didn’t need a series of Paul moments when I was already having a tough time, because you couldn’t get over yourself.”
“I- couldn’t get over the Paul stuff. And other stuff. And you’re right, I’m not- not arguing. I’m-” Lucy looked around the room, trying to find a better way of getting the message across. Like looking at the right music poster would give her the word. She met Verona’s eyes. “…clarifying.”
That hadn’t been the word.
Verona said, “I don’t want to feel like I have to be that just to get the message across. It sucks and I don’t know what that means.”
“I don’t either. I don’t want that.”
“I’m being a bitch. I’m stressed, I’m taking it out on you, dropping this on you right now. Sorry.”
“I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to hold onto grudges.”
“Me either,” Lucy said. “Resentments.”
“But I worry. I worry something changed and maybe it’s you and what you were worried about happening with me. Maybe it’s me and I’m just broken somehow, y’know?”
“I don’t think you’re broken, Ronnie. I think you’re wonderfully weird.”
“Tomato tomato, right?” Verona asked.
“I don’t think so.”
There was a knock on the door.
Lucy stepped around the cot, reaching for Verona’s hand. Fingers intertwined.
“Please don’t be your mom, saying it’s now,” Verona said.
Lucy silently agreed, but she said the words. “Come in?”
The door opened. It was Avery.
“Hey,” Lucy uttered the words with her voice soft.
“I brought an emotional support opossum. We thought maybe if you wanted to liven things up a bit, or get some backup, you could have plush Snowdrop for the night,” Avery said.
“I can promise I’ll be awake as much as you need me, can’t say I’ll do any mischief on demand or eat any snacks as payment,” Snowdrop said. She wore a t-shirt dress that came down to the knee, dark gray on one half and portraying a graphic of ‘the scream’ with an opossum instead of a human on the other half. The upper chest of the plain dark gray portion had a cloth-inset bit of plastic where some companies put their logos, but the company name was just ‘aaaa’.
“Sounds like a plan. Keep me sane and focused, how’s that?” Verona asked.
“Zero backup,” Snowdrop said.
“Thanks,” Verona told Avery. “For the loan.”
“We got you,” Avery said.
“We’re a phone call away,” Lucy said.
“Gotta get through tonight,” Verona said. She put a pair of shorts away. They’d been bought while shopping with her mom back before she’d come to stay at Lucy’s house, and still had the tags on them. “Gotta get through tomorrow night, with everything. Gotta get through… finding normal back home again. Gotta deal with the aftermath of… everything, whatever that looks like. Gotta start school.”
“We got you,” Avery said.
“Can you use those opossum eyes and help me look for anything that might’ve gotten misplaced? My stuff’s all over.”
“Seeing around corners and inside stacks?” Avery asked. She looked at Snowdrop. “You take that half of the room, I’ll take this half.”
“You’re on your own.”
Lucy went to the desk and helped sort things there. Verona joined her, and they stood side by side, working together to have a Lucy pile and a Verona pile. Stuff had gotten shuffled.
Investigation notes to Lucy. Drawings to Verona.
“Keep that,” Verona murmured, separating a picture from the pile. It was a city, semi-modern, clear perspective work with some of the guide lines imperfectly erased. Pencil lines had been inked over. A single sword was plunged into the city center, bigger and taller than any skyscraper. Rings of clouds encircled the handle.
“For you. I like how it turned out. So you should have it. Put it on your wall or put it on a shelf, forget about it, then find it five or ten years from now and smile over it.”
“Wall it is,” Lucy said.
“Here,” Verona said, picking out some pieces. “Ave. Do you want, let’s see… do you want a naked woman or do you want a cute animal?”
“Uhh. Maybe a cute animal?”
“Or something else? Do you want any of these? I’ve got shrine concept sketches, the animal sketches aren’t very good, but I thought I’d offer an alternative. Let’s see… again, lots of naked women, figure studies. More naked men than naked women, but I didn’t think you’d-”
“No, uh…” Avery walked over. Snowdrop continued to find a stray paintbrush that had rolled under the bookshelf. “No naked, thank you.”
“Some drawings of Kennet, from back when we were doing surveillance of the locals and I was killing time.”
“I don’t know how you were able to draw or paint and keep an eye out on things at the same time,” Lucy said.
“It helped more than it hurt. Kept me focused.”
Avery picked out pictures of Kennet ski hills and some stores, breaking up the neatly stacked Lucy and Verona piles to fan them out in the middle. She picked up two of the more artistic shrine sketches.
“Like any of them?” Verona asked. “Gave Lucy a thing that felt more Lucy. You should have something too.”
“You already gave me the friendship bracelet.”
“Take something.”
Avery touched pictures of places around Kennet. “I like all of these. Can I have all of them?”
“For absolute sure,” Verona said, brightening. “Awesome.”
“I have much to teach you, my young student,” Snowdrop said, as she grunted, reaching behind books on the bookshelf to pull out a small glass jar filled with hair. “You have a ways to go in the mastery of true greed.”
“Maybe I’ll just take one,” Avery said.
Verona almost crumpled pages in her hurry to get them into Avery’s hands. “Take them all, seriously. Take them, take them, enjoy them. If you liked them enough to want them that’s way more awesome than anything I’d get from having them around.”
“Cool,” Avery said, quiet. She put the stuff in her own bag.
As four, they got Verona’s stuff put away. All clothes into a big bag, the same one she’d used for the Blue Heron trip. All papers and practice stuff into her schoolbag. Buckles and velcro done up on the schoolbag. Big bag partially zipped.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, but I’ll just bring the basics for the one night stay. If you see anything else of mine, just put it aside, kay?”
Lucy nodded.
“So annoying,” Verona said. “Getting in the way, taking up time, distracting.”
If an argument for Verona is a Paul moment for me, then is something like that a bigger outburst?
“Hug?” Lucy asked.
Verona accepted. Lucy made a beckoning gesture, with the hand at Verona’s back, and Avery joined in, Verona sandwiched between them. Snowdrop became an opossum to squeeze in and wrap upper limbs around Verona’s calf and shin.
Just when it felt like it was time to end the hug, maybe deflect to messing around with Snowdrop for the humor to break the tension, Lucy heard the incoming footsteps.
She squeezed Verona tighter, to help brace her.
There was a knock on the door.
Lucy didn’t answer this time. Snowdrop scampered off to a hiding place.
“Yes?” Verona called out.
The door opened. Lucy’s mom paused, seeing them there.
“I guess you heard. He’s downstairs.”
Verona nodded.
Lucy squeezed harder for another second, then let her friend go. She started to grab the bag from the cot, but Verona beat her to it, and Lucy conceded that fight. Verona took the bag that bordered on being too big and heavy for her, and lowered it to the floor by the bed. Snowdrop, just out of sight of Lucy’s mom, squeezed her way in. Verona hefted it, strap over one shoulder, added her schoolbag, strap over the other shoulder, and moved sideways through the door, past Lucy’s mom.
Lucy and Avery followed. They stopped on the stairs as Verona continued down, to where the child support guy was.
Verona lifted one hand in a farewell, the child support guy flashed a smile, and then they left. Lucy’s mom closed the door after them.
“Are you staying, Avery?”
“I’ve gotta go. My mom’s back in town with Sheridan and it’s chaotic,” Avery said. “Lots to do.”
“Okay, hon. Anytime.”
Avery nodded.
“See ya.”
“I’ll be in contact. Lots to do,” Avery said.
Lucy nodded. “Lots.”
Avery took the stairs two at a time, hopped down the last bit, and then let herself out.
Just outside, Lucy could hear Avery whispering to herself, “Feels weird without best trash girl close by.”
Lucy looked at her mom, and offered a half smile.
“Want to hang out?”
“Got stuff I want to figure out.”
“School stuff? Advance reading?”
“Sssssorta.”
“I’m around for tonight. Tomorrow night, I’ll be out, which will mean you’ll be on your own. I’m going to ask you to be responsible, considering the night. Especially considering Verona may not be in the best frame of mind for it.”
Lucy blinked. “The night?”
“The last night of summer? I’m not as oblivious as you like to pretend. Give me some credit.”
“I think I’m the one who needs something, because I don’t see how you’d…?”
“A party? I wasn’t born yesterday and I wasn’t born so long ago I’m going senile. I would be flabbergasted if you and the other students weren’t plotting something like what kicked off the start of summer. Which seemed to involve a male stripper out of his mind on drugs, getting violent?”
“Oh.” Mia had sent a text about it, but it had sounded tentative. “You might need to prepare to be flabbergasted.”
“Uh huh. I might maybe believe you if I hadn’t been given the run around by your older brother. Please keep it sane, don’t let any of the children you’re with end up at my hospital, and be careful with Verona. I could see her cutting loose just to get her mind off things.”
Lucy nodded. “Really not planning for that, though.”
“Be good, be safe, be sane,” her mom said.
Lucy nodded, because a nod meant less than the spoken word.
“Love you,” her mom said, smiling. “And I do know you.”
“Love you too.”
Lucy went upstairs. She let herself into her room, and was a bit surprised by how open and clear the space was without the clutter of one of her favorite people filling it. She took the picture from Verona and she hung it up where posters and pieces of art from the Music Box subscription all overlapped.
Charles was free. That was major. It was terrifying.
Yet all they could do was prepare, brace themselves, try to be ready.
He was free, and it changed a lot about the tone of what was coming.
She shifted Verona’s cot. It folded at the middle, but there was a rigging of springs and hitches that meant that with enough pressure on the ends, it could collapse and fold up. She hated it because it always caught her off guard. Face turned away, flinching pre-emptively a few times, she folded it. It collapsed with a bang, top and bottom ends of the mattress slapping together, then with a kick and more pressure, the legs simultaneously folded in. It scraped against carpet as she pushed it up against the wall in the corner.
Assume it’ll break and spare more thought for the aftermath. Ray’s first piece of advice.
She lifted up her own mattress, then picked up the letter.
She did her own laundry, and she knew her mom didn’t pry, but there was a connection block, besides. For her mom to accidentally find the letter would require three outside coincidences.
Or something awful happening. She could imagine her mom, frantic, looking for any clue about where she’d gone.
In the letter, she’d written truth. About magic, about what was coming. In it, with vengeance and justice in mind, she’d told her mom to contact the witch hunters. Burn it all down.
She took it to her desk, feeling that moment of being startled that the desk was as clear as it was.
She rewrote the letter. Justice was still the intent, but not so much retribution.
Tell Zed. Tell Ray. Tell Nicolette.
Please don’t be angry. Please don’t be hurt.
I’m trying to do good.
She fixed up the envelope, destroyed the original letter, then put it under the far corner of the mattress.
Then, sitting in the computer chair, she got out spell cards. She didn’t know what else to do, except to prepare. She had some glamour from Guilherme she’d been stockpiling, but she had to be careful with how she used it. Maricica would manipulate it better than she ever could.
Mostly it was runework. Monotonous, dull, but capable of taking her mind off things. She put music on and she turned it up about as loud as she figured she could get away with.
What the hell happens after?
The harsh words from Verona dogged her. They’d been fair words too. Mostly.
Verona had left for a late dinner with her dad. The child services guy was sitting in, joining them for the meal, but then the guy would leave. Verona would spend the night unsupervised. Then tomorrow would come, she’d come for a last-day-of-summer sleepover, on a night they wouldn’t be sleeping, and they wouldn’t be ‘over’ here either.
When Lucy’s hand got sore from drawing out spell cards, she put on a movie, watched for about thirty minutes before realizing she wasn’t paying attention to it, then read books on the investigation, refreshing herself on the older stuff.
Stress had tired her out, so she slept around nine, passing out in her bed with the music loud, her phone held to her collarbone by her hand as she curled up in bed, dozing.
She woke up around ten, put on woobtube videos, and then found herself too restless for those as well.
She went downstairs, found her mom passed out on the couch, blanket over her, television flickering, got an ice cream bar, and took it out into the back porch.
She heard the footsteps in the grass. She tried to judge by her earring…
“Rook?”
“I’m slightly injured, or you wouldn’t have heard me.”
“Okay,” Lucy said.
The old, purple-skinned woman with the black clothing and heavy decoration at her back and waist stepped out of the shadows, mask held to cover her lower face. Her eyes were bright in the dark.
“Something up?”
“No. I’m taking a rest. I thought I’d be productive and watch over you.”
“Oh. For good reasons?”
“Yes,” Rook replied.
“Want me to get you an ice cream sandwich?” Lucy offered.
“No,” Rook replied. “Not in the slightest.”
“Oh.” Lucy took a bite of hers.
“Like you three, John has been asked to not patrol tonight, he’s avoiding any conflict, of which there is a great deal.”
“Musser and the Witch Hunters?”
“The Witch Hunters. Musser has sequestered himself and is focused on his son. Raquel Musser and Wye Belanger are there, the familiars guard the property. It has always been the intent for the Witch Hunters and Musser to remain roughly even. While Musser is having less impact, we have to suppress the remaining Witch Hunters to match.”
“That’s why you’re injured?”
“Yes. I’ll recover before tomorrow night.”
“Did the Witch Hunter’s reinforcements come?”
“No. Our intention is to throw them into enough disarray that it’s catching, infecting the newcomers if they should arrive tomorrow. We’ve forced them to relocate twice, and interrupted their meal. The fact they’re subsisting off of breakfast bars and snacks from the vending machine may give us a small edge if we need it.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Mmm.”
“Shall I leave you alone, to eat your concoction?”
“Confection, I think the term is.”
“I meant what I said.”
“I’d… I’d rather not be alone right now.”
“I’d be close enough to see trouble coming.”
“Can we talk? Fill the silence?”
Rook didn’t immediately answer.
“If it’s a problem that I’m a practitioner…”
“You’re Miss’s practitioner, and she’s a friend. We can talk.”
“How did you meet her?”
“When you live long enough and when you wander as I do, as she once did, meetings are inevitable. Friendship less so. I found her injured. I made her tea, we talked. Talk turned to frustration, enemies, a greater understanding of the world.”
“My big brother has those talks with people around his age. Philosophical. Trying to sound out other people about ideas. Double-checking ideas about how the world works. Talking about things that need to change. Dreams and goals.”
“Something like that. Knowing he’s in one of your academies, of a certain age, I imagine beer and things flavor the conversations.”
“Probably. But maybe when he’s old and gray-haired he’ll have those conversations over tea. Maybe I’ll have them with him. And maybe I’ll have told him everything important about practice, and I’ll have these deeper insights about… gosh. Right and wrong?”
“Maybe,” Rook said.
“I really wish he was here tonight,” Lucy whispered.
Her eyes watered.
“Sorry,” Lucy whispered. She used the short sleeve of her top, pinched at the inner corners of her eyes, to daub away the tears. “You don’t have all the context for what I’m saying, why he’s important to me.”
“I don’t, but I know enough. There are many people I wish I had in my company on a night like this. Ones who helped weather and while away these sorts of evenings. Ones who never had that opportunity.”
“These sorts of evenings? The quiet before the storm?”
“The tense wait before calm turns to fighting, before a letter is delivered, before an army arrives on the doorstep.”
“How many nights like this have you had?”
“I couldn’t say for sure, because it’s hard to say for sure what qualifies. At least twenty.”
“How many turned out okay?”
Rook was silent.
“Rook?” Lucy asked.
“In the longest run? Two nights out of those twenty, I was happy with the outcome. I was disappointed after, in both cases. Because the victory was squandered, in the first case, and because the victors became as vile as the people we’d been fighting in the second.”
“What keeps you going?”
“The fact I’m already moving. That I’m already ‘going’, as you put it,” Rook said. She stood a few feet from Lucy, back to the railing, one hand holding the mask, the other resting on the crook of her elbow, eyes on the horizon.
“What happens if you stop?”
“If I take a nearly fatal blow, and I need time to recover? If I walk away from it all, after losing one too many allies?”
“Yes.”
“Then I stop. I might unravel, in one sense or another.”
“Tell me a story? About one of the other times?”
Rook didn’t reply.
“Please?”
“I can recall a twice-knotted temple on a wintery peak, accessible only through passage between two mountains, a day’s journey, and passage through a cave. Travel that far, the temperature dipping with every minute spent out in the snowstorms, and you can find a mountain surrounded by a crown of lesser mountains, with a temple built atop it. The temple was built by spirits at the behest of an ogre magi. Do you know what an ogre magi is?”
“Ogres are much like men, but more brutish in some ways, less brutish in others. The word ogre derives from Orcus, an Etruscan deity of death, but their origins are wider. They are massive Others resembling men, content to dine on humans, but Death, War, Nature, Fate, or other forces have swelled in them and made them great in stature. They may be bleak, violent, bestial, or important, respectively. They are often simple, prone to rhythms and patterns in keeping with their nature. These rhythms and patterns can be exploited.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
“The wiser among them, the especially strong of character, the ones capable of looking inward, they can see what drives the core of them and helps them stand so tall, between man and giant in size. They may address that something, or tear it out. Often, especially in recent times, they must, and some will even treat it as a rite of passage. The feral ogre, raised up by Nature, may have to confront that animal inside him. Ordinarily he might hunt, kill, and drag off an ox every week, but he may need to find a way to hold himself back, enduring hunger or finding another path. Whatever it is, by excising or addressing that part of themselves, they leave themselves empty. A dour death-eating ogre with no more Death inside him has a void, and because ogres still hold to a desire for pattern, they may find themselves naturally using the materials most at hand to fill the void. Wind, fire, water, storm, sand, steel. Virtually every ogre magi is a force to reckon with. One alone could cut down all the goblins you’ve seen thus far, and walk away wanting more.”
“Do the patterns hold? You said they were defined by patterns.”
“They gather up various elements. Skin might turn to the color of sapphire, hair and beard might burn like fire. But elements are capricious, and the ogre mage leaves behind that old weakness of being predictable, and becomes a true force of nature. Now understand that in this temple, tucked away, one of the last true refuges we had, we had twenty ogre magi in residence, all friends and comrades of the others. My head only came up to the belt buckle of the smallest of them. We invoked traveler’s rights of hospitality, we’d come a long way and we were cold, and our enemies were on our heels. Before the day was out, we expected the great knocker on the door to bang. We made our appeals, gave away things we weren’t prepared to give away. We hadn’t expected to have to detour to the temple, so we had to use things we had with us already. Keepsakes from fallen soldiers, magical tools. Because it would have been insult to not give a gift. In the end, despite our efforts and sacrifice, some of them still felt insulted because the gifts weren’t enough. We were told to retire to our quarters, four to a room, and that an answer would be forthcoming. Until then… the wait.”
“A wait. Was that a night like this one?”
“Yes. With different stakes. We knew that if the ogre magi wouldn’t side with us, we’d be forced into a fight we couldn’t afford. We were already tired, wounded, resources expended. We’d given away power and personal treasures in a bid for compassion. We were but one small fragment of a bigger army, cut off from the others, and if we fell, we had a firm and correct sense that the broader army would fall too. We had to reunite with them.”
“What happened?”
“The gifts we gave weren’t sufficient. The Ogre Magi refused on principle, and told us to depart by noon the next day.”
“What the heck kind of principles are those?”
“The principle of establishment. If they allowed such meager gifts to merit their help and support, the next guest might come with less.”
“Fuck them, then,” Lucy said.
“There’s no need. They were, as you say, fucked. We left, and behind us, they were slaughtered, the stored and condensed elemental power ripped from their corpses and consumed. The enemy horde took up residence in the temple, rested the next night, then came after us, marching through snow to catch us at the rear and begin picking off our stragglers three days later. They were rested and able, strong, and we weren’t. They eventually caught our main force.”
“If the Ogre Magi are strong, what were you fighting?”
“Creatures more monstrous and short-sighted than the Ogre Magi.”
“Practitioners?” Lucy guessed.
“I was going to say practitioners without the benefit of a Miss in their company.”
Lucy nodded.
Silence followed. Rook seemed comfortable enough with it. Lucy was willing to let it be, to digest. She’d already asked a story and Rook had obliged, she didn’t want to demand more.
Lucy checked her phone.
She watched the display for what felt like fifteen minutes.
“One day remaining,” she said.
“This is a watched pot, Lucille Ellingson, and it boils so,” Rook said, looking out into the dark. “It smells of blood.”
“And now it’s twelve oh one,” Lucy reported.
“Are you going to do that for the entire evening? If so, I’ll keep my watch from a distance.”
“Oh, no. I just… it’s less than a day now. That’s a milestone. It’s actually less than twenty four hours, going by my phone.”
“All the more reason to try to rest. Go inside, put yourself to bed, let your mind and body heal from the day. I have to return to the fighting before long, someone else will be by to stand watch over you and your mother.”
Lucy stood up. She walked to the door.
“Thanks, Rook.”
“John requested this.”
Lucy nodded.
She went inside, closing and locking the door. She would’ve been dreading the day to come even if Charles had still been in captivity. They’d just lost one of their big advantages. She was ready to spend the entire night stark awake, dreading the day to come, stewing over that critical loss. The frustration at being unable to sleep would feed that same insomnia, a sleepless cycle. She’d been there before.
Instead, she fell asleep quickly enough that she didn’t remember the trip from the backyard to her room.
They walked into the hallway of the Blue Heron. The floor was damaged, but tiles were stacked up against the wall, fixes underway, debris cleared aside, the sweep marks of dust still trailing on the floor. Rope cordons kept them away from the tripping hazards.
“Second… organize. Your chaos and confusion are her advantage. Organize, cover your weaknesses, prepare your strengths,” Raymond continued his explanation. “If there’s one thing I’m proud of here, it’s that the people I relied on for help were competent and focused. People are often your strength. But don’t underestimate your enemies like I did. However small or weak they might seem to be.”
“I hereby call this meeting to order,” Toadswallow croaked the words. All eyes were on him as he sat on a log in Tashlit’s camp.
Miss stood by the other end of the log. A low tree branch caught the sun, moisture on the leaves shining with an intensity that approached looking at the sun directly, hiding her face. Beside her, Rook sat on a short three-foot bit of log that had been set on end to act as a stool, one leg crossed over the other at the knee.
The goblins were present, Gashwad and Bluntmunch included, sitting with Jabber. Montague occupied a dollhouse, the ‘dad’ standing out front, an inconsistent and flickering silhouette. Matthew was with Ken on the sidelines, Alpeana was in the woods where it was darker, accompanied by Nibble. Chloe hadn’t been able to bear even the indirect sun. Guilherme wasn’t that far from them, looming there in the shadows of the trees, with arms folded.
Zed, Brie, and Jessica were all present, standing on the sidelines opposite Matthew and Ken.
Avery, sitting on a log bench by Lucy, twisted around.
Lucy could hear them, the quiet chatter.
Verona, Tashlit, and Snowdrop entered Tashlit’s clearing.
“Thank you for joining us,” Toadswallow said. “I do mean that. We’ve only just begun. To begin with, to be secure, let’s go name by name. Testify you are who you say you are, you aren’t compelled. I am Sir Toadswallow. I testify this is true. My actions are my own.”
They began to go around the space, clockwise, people reciting their names.
Verona weaved her way through the various people and the sections of log that served as benches and stools, taking a seat on the ground by Lucy’s feet.
“Everything okay?” Lucy whispered. “How was it?”
Verona only shrugged, her expression unreadable.
“Bad, good?” Avery asked. “Or do you want to ignore it for now?”
“I want to but in the interest of not bugging you guys, it was nice to see my room again. Sucked a bit more than I thought it would. He had a moment. Mostly we ignored each other.”
Lucy winced.
They waited as the group got around to them.
“I am Lucy Ellingson, practitioner of Kennet, my actions are my own.”
Verona and Avery repeated something similar.
Zed, Brie, and Jessica were next. They recited the words.
“Thank you to those of you who helped us against the Witch Hunters last night,” Toadswallow addressed the group. “It is rare that Rook, Guilherme, and myself are on the same page about something, but the fighting was a hard necessity. The Faerie twit may be an unknown of a certain brand-”
“Oxycontin!” Tatty interrupted.
“What?”
“That’s an oxycontin! Saying faerie twit, they mean the same thing!”
Bluntmunch wrapped his hand around Tatty’s head and pushed it down into the sandy soil between Bangnut and Peckersnot. The force of the movement made the ground split, and made the other two tumble from their seats on the earthy hump.
“Thank you, Blunt,” Toadswallow said. “As I was saying, the Faerie Maricica is one type of unknown enemy, but the Witch Hunters are a unknown force of another sort. Maricica has a plan in mind we don’t yet fully know, but they could appear at any time, turning an already tense situation into a right cock-up. That is meant to evoke a alert rooster, to the children present.”
“Teenagers,” Lucy said. “And that’s pretty thin, Toad.”
“The meaning stands.”
Cherrypop piped up, “They could show up now!”
She looked around.
“Right now!”
“I remember when these meetings were quieter,” Matthew said.
“Or… now!”
“Jabba!”
“Thank you also to those who disrupted them. Alpeana, I’m told you helped?”
“I coudnae reach ’em, sae I got efter their neighbors. A fair few screams e’ry ‘oor, tae git them up.”
“That may be all we can do,” Toadswallow said. “Pokes from the edges-”
A goblin, maybe Ramjam, grunted.
“-and distractions. It may lead them to make a mistake, or to slow down. Where are we with Musser?”
“He’s looking after his son. Preparing him,” Miss said.
“Anything to do there?”
“Nothing I can see.”
“Are his glasses still broken?” Toadswallow asked, smiling.
“They are. Courtesy of John, who is resting and cleaning up all traces of his presence at his current residence, in preparation. He’d be here otherwise.”
Lucy felt like she’d eaten something off, hearing that.
“It’s best he’s not. Let him focus on what he needs to,” Matthew said.
Lucy wanted to argue, wanted to say no. To all of that. It felt like she was in a bad dream where something was wrong, and nobody wanted to recognize it.
Toadswallow nodded. “The glasses, remind me what they do?”
“They let him see something’s value. Lets him avoid troublesome items,” Zed said.
“Can we use that?” Toadswallow asked. “John gave us the opportunity. We should use that before they mend.”
“I don’t think he’ll take an item if he can’t verify it,” Zed said. “Even if it looks or seems really powerful.”
“What if it’s a rock, and he has a glove that catches these things automatically?” Toadswallow asked. “Cherrypop?”
“My rock!”
“It’s Musser. I think it’s not going to be that easy,” Zed said. “You can try, but…”
Toadswallow nodded. “Perhaps someone can convince Cherrypop to try it. It would be a remarkable win. Musser brought low by Cherrypop.”
“My rock.”
“No sightings of Maricica have been reported, unless anyone would like to surprise me?” Toadswallow asked.
Nobody was in a position to.
“Those are our three major obstacles. The shrines are in good order, the ephemeral beasts lurk but are kept beyond the perimeter, at least for the time being. The shrine spirits should tell us if there’s a breach, yes?”
“We hope,” Verona said. “They’re a titch lopsided in capabilities and focus right now.”
Toadswallow nodded. “What else? One of you three wanted to say something.”
Lucy put up a hand.
“Get over here,” Toadswallow said.
Lucy swallowed. She’d texted Verona and Avery in the morning, but Verona had been radio silent. Much of her time had been spent sorting out shrine stuff, getting geared up, and working out what to say here.
“Raymond Sunshine recommended we cover our weaknesses and emphasize strengths. Community is one of our big strengths. I have some suggestions.”
“Do tell,” Toadswallow told her.
“Protective detail for Ken. I know we’ve talked about this, but let’s get it sorted. Let’s throw in some diagrams and things. We don’t have to imprison him, but we can put him where he’s comfortable, with goblins on guard, and surround him with a minefield of runes and diagram work.”
“Any objections?” Toadswallow asked.
There were none. Some goblins even sounded excited.
“Do you still want me to handle tonight’s festivities?” Ken asked.
“Haven’t you already?” Toadswallow asked.
“I told him to wait,” Matthew said. “Do we want to? Innocents protect the town.”
“Not enough to matter, against the forces arranged against us,” Miss said.
“Okay,” Matthew said. “Sorry.”
“No. It’s a good thought. But the limited protection they offer is outweighed by the fact we’d need to make sure they’re safe. They’d be an easy target for the depraved.”
“Shall I, then?” Ken asked.
Toadswallow nodded.
Lucy’s phone beeped.
Avery got her phone out of her pocket before Lucy did. Lucy paused.
“Note from some of our class. Weather looks crappy, bunch of people are still away… summer party’s canceled. They’re going to do a big party after the first week of class.”
“Party!” Biscuit cheered. “Love’m.”
“That was fast,” Lucy remarked.
“I was ready,” Ken said.
“What else?” Toadswallow asked, looking over at Lucy.
Lucy faced the assembled Others and her friends. “Second, Jabber. You guys put him in a box at night?”
Matthew answered, “He seems comfortable there. Sometimes have to chain it, or he’ll break out and stomp around for hours in the middle of the night, spouting gibberish.”
“Sisonocononcanolispiscoromisaltrabbajab!” Jabber screamed, before tipping backward, head hitting the ground. He made a hissing sound through his mouth-hole.
“He minds,” Snowdrop said.
“Can we change things up, secure him better?” Lucy asked.
“What are you thinking?”
“A different location? Disclosed to only a few people? Runes and traps to trip up anyone coming after him?”
“We can,” Matthew said. “Just let me know.”
“I have an idea,” Verona said. “Uh, I’ll run it by you guys after. The less who know the better.”
“Good,” Toadswallow said. “Putting him out of reach?”
“Yeah,” Lucy said.
“That’s fine.”
“Third, John. Can we call it off?”
“Call it off?” Guilherme asked, from the back.
“The contest. Or at least John’s part in it.”
“I don’t think you’ll be able to do that,” Miss said.
“Because… the judges?”
“Because John,” Miss said. Her tone was sympathetic.
“They’ve acted like he’s part of the plan, we should be looking at each thing they seem to value and target those things,” Lucy said.
“You’re not wrong. But we should also value that our local Others are independent, free, and they’re allowed to make their own decisions, just as you are.”
“Even the self-destructive ones?”
“Especially those.”
“Can we try asking?”
“You can. I wouldn’t pin your hopes on a different outcome.”
Lucy wilted a little at that.
Verona and Avery met her eyes. Had Verona read Lucy’s texts, even though she hadn’t replied?
Well, they’d talked about this, but the texts coordinated it.
“Was that all, then?” Toadswallow asked.
Verona and Avery stood up.
“I gather it wasn’t,” Toadswallow replied.
“We have a motion to bring to those gathered,” Avery said. “On the belief that he was hired or otherwise arranged to be a distraction for us and for those Others present, to work against Kennet’s interests…”
“Suggested by multiple sources, just about confirmed ourselves,” Lucy added.
“We motion to capture, restrain, bind, or otherwise remove Bluntmunch from play for today and tonight,” Verona finished.
Bluntmunch started to rise to his feet from where he sat on the dirt. He was big, more mass than Matthew, but just a little shorter, hunched over. A gorilla of a goblin. Matthew stepped forward and put a hand out, like he was ready to push Bluntmunch down to a sitting position. Bluntmunch shot him a glare with the one eye that wasn’t crushed in and made effectively small by surrounding flesh.
“Don’t,” Matthew said.
“I can confirm, John told me of Bluntmunch’s specific activities, and the line of questioning from Lucy.”
“Cig signaled something in this direction,” Miss said. “To the practitioners and to Rook.”
“We asked where goblin loyalties were, if they were with us,” Lucy said.
Avery said, “Can you honestly say that you’re on our side, Bluntmunch? We’ll admit we were wrong, we’ll end the motion, we’ll apologize. Just… confirm you weren’t bought or you aren’t doing anything for outsiders or conspirators.”
Bluntmunch remained where he was. Then he smiled, showing teeth that were rotten and broken, but somehow more dangerous looking than intact teeth.
“No?” Verona asked.
“If you’re meant to be a distraction, let’s get it over with,” Lucy said.
Bluntmunch looked down at the goblins beside him. He drew in a deep breath.
“Goblins.” It was Toadswallow who said it. “Some of you swore loyalty to me. For the sake of the market I want to establish, for other things. This is one of those things. Come stand in front of me.”
Bluntmunch tensed as goblins began to peel away from the ‘front row’ of the gathering. They circled the ring of stones where a fire would be on a cooler evening. Peckersnot. Tatty. Bangnut. Biscuit. Butty McButtbutt got up and crossed the way.
Snowdrop glanced at Avery, then hurried over. She looked down at Cherry. “Stay.”
“Hunh?”
Toadswallow sighed heavily. “You’re ruining the moment. Cherry?”
“Huh, wha? I stay?”
“The oath you swore to me counts. Come.”
“Woo!”
“And Ramjam.”
“Huh, what?
“I bribed you. You promised loyalty in a key moment. This is the moment.”
“I wasn’t paying attention. I was thinking about fighting. What’s happening? What’s all this?”
“Come here.”
Ramjam got to his feet and hurried over.
The room was tense. Bluntmunch was strong, and there was nothing guaranteeing that he wouldn’t flip out and simply start attacking people. Maybe he’d make a run for it.
He only had Doglick, Nat, and Kittycough in his corner. Gashwad hadn’t crossed the aisle either.
“Doglick,” Toadswallow said. “Unless we’re wrong about this, siding with him puts you against John. I know you like the man. Your patrol buddy.”
Doglick didn’t yip or bark, but simply hurried across the ashes and stones of the fire pit.
Bluntmunch smacked his lips, staring Toadswallow down.
“This can all end if you say you’re loyal, it’s a mistake. Tell us you didn’t side with a Faerie.”
“I didn’t,” Bluntmunch replied. “I sided with cold hard cash and colder opportunity.”
“Derived from Fae schemes.”
Bluntmunch shook his head.
Nat glanced up at Bluntmunch, then circled around to the end of Toadswallow’s group.
Kittycough followed.
Leaving only Gashwad.
“I’m comfortable with my arse in this dirt-groove I dug,” Gash said. “Don’t wanna move, but I ain’t with him.”
Bluntmunch was normally shorter than Matthew from a sheer ground-to-highest-point measure, but here, he stood taller, forcing himself not to hunch, not to draw shoulders forward.
“You’re too cunning, Toadswallow. There’s not enough goblin in ya, and there’s not a lot of ya. You’re small. I watched you for a while, tried to figure ya out. Why did I think ya had something to give, hmmm?”
The ‘hmm’ came out almost like a growl.
“I’m bigger than you where it counts,” Toadswallow told the larger goblin.
Lucy’s fingers found a spell card as a just-in-case.
“You’ll bind me? Find a place to put me?” Bluntmunch asked.
“We need to know what Maricica wanted you for,” Miss said.
“There was no deal with Maricica,” Bluntmunch said, testy.
“Who then?”
“Permission to restrain him?” Lucy asked.
Bluntmunch tensed. “I’m going. Fuck yourselves. That’s my one use for this month, Toad.”
He turned to go, and Guilherme stepped into his way.
“I’d beat you, I think,” Bluntmunch said. “What ya do isn’t fighting, it’s a very violent pretend. ‘Sides, yer already on yer way out.”
“I’m not done yet,” Guilherme said.
Lucy looked over, and Toadswallow nodded, a small motion.
Verona got to her feet, while Avery took quick strides to the side, circling around Bluntmunch.
He saw her, turning, which meant his back was to Lucy. She threw a card.
The ground under his feet softened. Wind combined with earth to make finer sand, in the same way fire and air could make smoke. She turned the earth into a bit of a sand trap, with sand loose enough that his weight pulled him down knee-deep.
Avery followed up, touching card to ground. Soil flowed forward in a loose wave, bowling him over onto hands and knees, partially burying him.
He was strong enough to begin to pull himself free. Guilherme bounded forward, leaping onto his back.
Lucy followed up with another earth-to-sand card. It worked best in an environment where the ground was already partially sandy. Bluntmunch sank in deeper, arms and lower body submerged.
“Reverse it?” Verona asked. “I didn’t coordinate with you guys. I forgot my phone charger.”
“Ohhh, was that what it was?” Lucy asked.
Verona nodded.
Lucy began going through the collection of papers.
Verona drew the required rune before Lucy found it in the heap she’d thought she organized.
Sand to earth.
Solidifying the ground around Bluntmunch.
“We didn’t want to use a circle or any kind of compulsion,” Lucy said.
“This’ll do for now,” Toadswallow said. He hopped down from his seat. “Now’s the time to share.”
Bluntmunch roared. A very animal sound.
Lucy glanced over at the goblins, and… it felt important, how much attention they were paying. Maybe Toadswallow had bribed some. Maybe he’d gone to other measures, like with Peckersnot. Verona had reminded them of that recently. But however they’d gotten to Toadswallow’s side, they were paying keen attention to something that might be one step among many to something different.
On the other side, there were a number of locals who had varying degrees of investment.
Maybe they needed a win right now.
“Who hired you, what did they say?” Toadswallow asked.
Bluntmunch, eighty percent buried, spat.
“Maricica?” Avery asked, innocently.
“No, it was fucking E-!”
Bluntmunch fell silent.
“Who?” Toadswallow asked, smug.
You heard that. You’re pressing it. Why?
Because you want to score a win, with everyone looking? You need him defeated?
“May I make a suggestion?” Lucy asked.
“Yes,” Toadswallow said.
“Cherrypop? Peckersnot?” Lucy asked. “Come here.”
“Ey! Yeah! I’m one of those!”
Peckersnot hurried forward, Cherrypop following, carrying her rock.
“He followed orders from Edith, he did it recently, and Edith was following Maricica’s orders. To me, that points in a clear direction.”
Both Peckersnot and Cherrypop looked confused.
“Tell Bluntmunch he’s a Faerie’s bitch,” Lucy said.
Cherrypop turned, looked at Bluntmunch, and backed away a bit, like he was too scary when he was mad, even if he was trapped.
“You’re- you’re a Faerie’s bitch,” Cherry whispered.
She backed away about three steps, nearly falling over, as he growled.
“Again.”
Cherry looked up at Lucy, and a smile spread across her face.
“You’re- you’re a fluttertwit’s bitch, Blunt,” Cherry said. “You’re a faerie’s bitch!”
Peckersnot pointed a finger, waving it back and forth in a taunting manner.
“Goblins,” Jessica muttered.
“You’re a faerie’s bitch, blunt, you’re a faerie’s bitch!” Cherry sang off tune. Beside her, Peckersnot began to dance, bobbing on one leg, switching to the other, pointing all the while, sometimes pointing with both hands.
“You’re a faerie’s bitch, you’re a faerie bitch, you’re a faerie’s bitch, blunt, so em-bare-ass-sing, being a fae-rie’s hench-man!” Cherry sang.
Peckersnot mooned Bluntmunch, then did some combination of butt-wag and twerking in time with the off-tune singing, about a foot from Blunt’s face.
Bluntmunch roared.
“What does it take to stop this?” he asked.
“Doesn’t change the fact you were a faerie’s lackey, and too dumb to realize it!” Tatty screeched.
Bluntmunch roared, and began to rise up. The ground cracked.
Guilherme produced a spear, and pressed the tip to Bluntmunch’s throat.
The goblin stopped struggling.
“Bitch,” Cherrypop whispered, bringing her head close to Blunt-
He snapped teeth. She scrambled back, yelping.
“Use it,” Bluntmunch said, looking up at Guilherme. “End this. S’better than… Cherrypop.”
Peckersnot waggled his ass closer and closer to Bluntmunch’s face. Bluntmunch turned his head to the side.
“Just say,” Guilherme said. “Edith?”
“She asked. I needed the stuff. Money, bit of power.”
“Why?”
“Old enemies, getting closer. Someone like John, or you, Miss, ya worry about practitioners. Binding. But s’pretty, s’plain, compared to what’s out there. I won’t be bound.”
Miss said, “If you’re talking about the redcap queen Gerhild, they don’t have a presence that reaches this far.”
“Ya don’t think? Take a look at the Carmine candidate, Breastbiter. I had a feeling they were expanding out, scoutin’. Just felt that way, going by the feel of things in the Warrens. Even before he showed. But then he turned up, and he’s hers.”
“Do we need to worry about this?” Lucy asked MIss.
“No,” Miss said. “I don’t think so.”
“No,” Toadswallow said.
“No,” Bluntmunch growled the word. “But a brute like me does. She wants strong goblins.”
“You got scared?” Avery asked.
“Using these two to mock me isn’t enough, ye gotta say crap like that?” Bluntmunch asked.
“What did they want from you? You can’t hurt us, right?”
“Not without breaking the oath, but I can slow you down. But that weren’t it. Edith had something else she wanted. I mentioned it. Project.”
“Project?” Verona asked.
“Bitch,” Cherrypop whispered to Bluntmunch.
He roared, breaking up a bit of ground, until Guilherme’s blade pierced the flesh of his throat. Nothing terminal. Bluntmunch stopped.
“Be good. We’re getting what we want,” Verona said.
“But he was a Faerie’s lackey,” Cherrypop said, with glee. “That’s so lame.”
“Cherry!” Bluntmunch raised his voice. “If I get free I’ll make you regret this!”
“What project?” Lucy asked.
Bluntmunch huffed his breaths in and out past his mangled teeth. “Hayward knows.”
Lucy looked at Verona. Then she thought of the interview notes.
“The dog meat?”
“There ya go. Unpredictable as any of your witch hunters, but meaner, doesn’t go down like you’d want it to, even with bullets, blades… It’s out there, free, and I’m the only one in Kennet who can get control over it,” Bluntmunch said. “Oh yeah, and it didn’t swear any oaths.”
They backed off.
“One threat removed, one added?” Lucy asked.
“We might be able to deal with it,” Avery said. “It’s what, something like John, but…”
Verona nodded. “But not from war. Murder, mutilation, more… wild, or more… freaky? Some Dog Meats can climb on walls, others scream like Durocher did.”
Lucy nodded.
“So Blunt’s less a distraction and more… brought the distraction,” Avery said.
“Sounds right,” Verona said.
“Are we done?” Toadswallow asked. “If we are, I’ll look after Blunt, see he’s jailed right. We’ll figure out this Dog Meat business.”
“Okay,” Lucy said.
“Diagrams?” Verona asked. “Securing Ken, Jab…”
Lucy checked her phone.
Ten hours to go.
“Don’t have a lot of time. Let’s get it handled,” she said.
“With bodyguards and protection. Don’t get injured or waylaid by Witch Hunters!” Miss insisted.
Tashlit got up, heading straight for Verona. The pair high-fived.
Avery had Snowdrop, and by proxy, the loyalty of a number of the lesser goblins.
Lucy couldn’t help but note John’s absence.
“Let me think,” Raymond Sunshine said, as he settled into the seat in his office. His eyes remained closed, sealed with black honey. “This is personal. I think they need the personal.”
“Personal?” Verona asked.
“Charles knows me. He knows you, at least a little. Maricica, she’s a Fae, she has a good sense of where you’re strong and weak. She can read things in your body language you might not realize.”
“She’s young,” Nicolette said. “Maybe less than some.”
“True. Less than some, but my point stands.”
“That’s a big ask to uh, dam perfectly, as you put it,” Lucy said.
“I don’t think you ever could. Or if you could you wouldn’t be human anymore. We’re flawed. Those flaws stand out. A Fae like her will find your vulnerabilities, find ways to get to you, ways that put you off balance. Keep your balance, if you can. Try to keep a clear head. In the heat of the moment, I believed Charles. Thinking back… he could’ve lied. But the moment I believed made it real. Like how glamour works.”
Fifteen minutes remaining.
They were downtown, standing on a rooftop. A light drizzle of rain fell around them. They were close enough to the town center that they could see the clocks mounted on the tower built into the building. One on each of the four faces. Those were the same clocks that had gone wild during their first encounter with the hungry Choir.
Now they were just this steady, inexorable thing. The hands moved them closer to midnight.
The furs were secure in the House on Half Street. They’d set up some runes, signals, and traps.
Jabber was in a box, in a sea of ‘boxes’. Matthew had gone the extra mile, getting coolers, cases, crates, and other containers, piling them into the back of his truck and delivering them to three different factories. Many were bound in chains, straps, and cords. Jabber was in one. Various explosive runes and tricks were in others. Verona had used some stray alchemy stuff to lace some with scents, to confuse senses.
Only Verona and Matthew knew which one.
If they needed Jabber, they had him. If Maricica needed Jabber, she needed to find the right box.
Jabber was probably more secure like that than he was in their custody, surrounded by fifty goblins.
Speaking of, Ken had bodyguards, he was in his domain, and they’d used runes to trap the way in. They’d also emphasized the parallel between the perimeter and his rooftop. A second perimeter, focused on protecting him. The spirits could reach along that perimeter and mass in force to protect him.
Ken had put the civilians away for the night. He’d used a lot of power to do it, making him weaker than he might otherwise be, but there would be no bystanders unless any confrontations actually put them inside homes.
Bluntmunch was captured, bound in chains. Edith was more secure than most, bound by a judge.
Her phone rang. Both Avery and Verona looked at her.
She lifted the phone to her ear.
“Please be okay,” she said, after answering the call.
“I’m fine, honey. I wanted to ask you how that party is, that you said wasn’t happening.”
“It got called off,” Lucy said. “Too many people are away, and it’s drizzling. Not fun for outdoors and there’s no places indoors that have air conditioning and no parents.”
“Aha,” her mom said. Voice light, happy. “So there was going to be a party.”
“Are you alright?” Lucy asked.
“I’m having a good time, and I wanted to add to it by calling my daughter, who I dearly love. That’s all.”
Lucy heard a man’s voice, too distant, muffled.
She felt pleased, knowing her mom was getting out there, having a life-
She felt her entire body go cold.
She knew that voice. She could place it exactly.
Even though she’d never met them, probably. Never heard the voice before.
“Mom, are you on a date?”
“I think I told you that I might be dating, but I’d wait a few months-”
“Mom!” Lucy said, insistent. “Are you?”
“I am, yes. It’s nice.”
The man’s voice again.
“Is he super attractive?”
Avery and Verona’s eyes went wide.
“That, honey, isn’t something that should matter or be a priority-”
“Is he!?”
“Calm down, what’s wrong?”
“Is he?” Lucy whispered. She could only whisper or shout.
“Yes. He’s- yes. He’s one of the new Doctors.”
The man asked a question. His voice was too smooth, too rich. It could only belong to the Beautiful Man. The second of Maricica’s pawns, that Guilherme had predicted she’d use.
“I’m not telling you. It’s mother-daughter business,” her mom said, voice fainter like the phone was further away.
Lucy swallowed.
She couldn’t even- she couldn’t be numb, about this. She was reminded of Maricica being in her house, when they’d got the wrong Faerie in the trial.
The relief she’d felt after that had turned out okay just made this feel worse.
“Hang up,” Verona said.
“What?”
Verona reached over for the phone, and Lucy fought her for a second.
“Lucy?” her mom asked.
“I love you, mom,” she said. “Verona’s being… upsetting.”
“Go easy on her.”
Verona took the phone.
“Love you,” Lucy called out.
Verona hung up.
“Why?” Avery asked.
Lucy shut her eyes.
“Because if you alert her you put her in more danger,” Verona said. “To keep control over the situation, he’d do something. Like take her hostage.”
Lucy nodded.
“Being on the phone, him there, it gives him power,” Verona said. “It gives them power.”
End of summer. Contest could start any moment.
Charles was free.
Her mom was in danger.
John was going to pick this fight and he was going to die.
Panic swelled in Lucy’s chest. Her eyes watered. Avery grabbed her arm.
“If you want to go, go,” Verona said. “But- I think Maricica wants you to go. And I don’t think it’d go as tidy as you want it to.”
“I can’t just put my feelings in a box.”
“Then go. We’ll manage. Maybe try to get back to us as soon as you can,” Verona said.
Mixed messages only added to the feeling of swelling panic. Lucy remained stuck where she was.
“Miss,” Avery said. “Miss! Miss!”
Lucy shut her eyes. With her hands, she wiped away tears.
She hadn’t covered all the bases. It was such a stupid oversight.
This is personal. They need the personal.
“What do you need?” Miss asked.
“Lucy’s mom. The beautiful man,” Avery said. “They’re on a date or something. She’s a hostage.”
“Do you need to go?” Miss asked. “Do you need help finding them?”
“Would you please?” Lucy asked. She tried to look at Miss and only saw shadow. The light from the streets didn’t reach their perch on the rooftop. “Would you please handle it? Recruit who you need, do what you have to, save her?”
“Of course. I’ll try. Do you want to come?”
Lucy shook her head but partway through the motion switched to a nod instead. She squeezed eyes shut.
Her voice was a whisper, almost devoid of the emotion that nearly choked her. Her eyes remained fixed on the clock. “I want to, but I shouldn’t. I can’t handle the situation like- I can’t. I’d get emotional, I’d get played.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I’m not.”
“I’ll handle it, then. Do your best here.”
Lucy opened her mouth to voice a reply and the word didn’t come, choked out. She swallowed hard and by the time she was done, Miss had stepped out of sight, disappearing.
Verona rubbed her arm.
“Update me. We’re past midnight.”
Avery replied, “John’s already set out. He wanted to start early, he doesn’t get tired like many do, so choosing this late hour means his competition might be tired.”
Lucy nodded.
Her eyes remained damp.
Dirty pool.
Couldn’t get emotional. Even if she wanted to curse Maricica five ways from Sunday. No. That’d play into her hands.
She thought about John going, and that panic feeling fluttered again.
“I don’t want John to go.”
“I don’t think any of us do,” Avery said.
“None of this is going right. It’s… it looked bad before and it keeps looking worse.”
“It just looks that way, remember?” Verona asked. “That’s how Raymond said it works?”
“If it has feathers like a duck and a bill like a duck, and flipper feet like a duck and it sounds like a duck, isn’t it a duck?” Lucy asked. “If this looks like a Maricica Victory happening in all those ways, what if it is one? What if-?”
“The duck could be a glamour on a person,” Verona said.
Lucy shook her head.
“Don’t lose heart,” Avery said.
“I don’t want John to go. Let’s stop him,” Lucy said. “Let’s at least try. Let’s at least get out there. If it’s starting let’s do something about this. If I gotta leave my mom to better hands that won’t get Faerie schemed, I gotta do something.”
“That could be the trap,” Avery said.
“Keep the doors open,” Verona countered. “Open more doors, cover more bases, force them to close doors. We got started on that today, let’s keep it going.”
“Save John?” Lucy asked.
“We can try,” Avery said. “Look.”
Lucy turned, looking. She saw it.
They descended from the rooftop, into the midst of their various bodyguards and helpers. Tashlit, Snowdrop, the goblins. They headed out.
The destination Avery had pointed to: the spot where the Carmine Beast had died. It had changed. Trees overgrew it, ringing it more heavily, and the ground was crimson enough with blood that the light from streetlights bounced off of it and cast the surrounding area in a red tint.
The Kennet Arena.
Next Chapter