A Fair Fight (2 page)

“
Yeah.” Megan worked on the picture. Beneath the ice, various shadowy beings, partly obscured by the water, were gathered around two larger ones, one of whom bore some resemblance to Cthulhu.

“
Still scared, though?”

“
Obviously.” The other figure below the ice was clearly Balor. Balor had his own fishing implement, sticking a long spear up through the ice, impaling some steaks to lure the curious.

“
How's Justin?” Lani asked.

Megan smirked. “Why are you asking me? He's
your
Other Brother.”

“
Because I'm not asking how he is from an at-home perspective. How is he doing from a girlfriendly perspective? Though you don't have to dwell on any gory details, for reasons of Other Brother.”

“
Just because he and I reached the point of occasionally spending time without you doesn't mean the details got gory. We're doing fine. He's very... contextual.” Megan made a face at Lani. “Why? What does he say when you ask him about me when you're helping him study for the GED?”

“
That I should ask you myself. Speaking of helping study, that reminds me that we probably should get back to pre-calculus.”

“
You're not even taking pre-calculus anymore, and I shouldn't be taking pre-calculus when I'm never going to take actual calculus.”

“
Too bad. You'd have fun shading in the area under a curve.”

“
I'm sure. And it's hard to worry too much about studying right now with...you know. Dad wants me there tomorrow for a meeting with the Queen and the General. And besides, it's not like we haven't gotten all our college acceptance letters anyway, Miss Full Ride.”

“
I have to keep that full ride. And we're going to go to UW together, so we might as well make a good impression together. At least, I suppose we are. You got in, and they've got a great fine arts program.”

“
I did, but I've still got a few days to answer before the May deadline, and I'm leaning more towards Tacoma School of the Arts, really. Their illustration program would have all the necessities. A full-on university degree just seems a bit much for an artist.”

“
What about for a princess? Sure, you can train in your field just fine without a university, but you might appreciate a really well-rounded education when you're in politics.”

Megan frowned. "I don't want to even think about Faerie politics."

"You don't have much choice in the matter, Princess."

"It's not like I'm going to inherit anything. My Dad is older than Mick Jagger and still doing just fine."

"Your Dad was a little more contemporary with Attila the Hun,” Lani said.

"What instrument did he play?"

"Seriously?"

"Okay, okay. I know who Attila the Hun was. But you make my point. Besides, most of the time, art is way more useful in Faerie than traditional education. It's not like they do anything any normal way."

"Your Dad wants you more involved. Ever since you beat O'Neill, you've been getting more attention. You're a natural leader—"

"No, I'm not. I'm a terrible leader."

"You're maybe the most powerful bard since the Renaissance, people listen to you, and you come up with great ideas."

"I never asked anyone to follow me. I just, you know, do stuff, and you guys make it work."

"With just a little less slang, you sort of, you know, just defined natural leader. You realize that, right?"

Megan rolled her eyes. "Okay, so, talking all leader-y and things, I'm delegating. Justin can open doors for me, pull out chairs, and occasionally sword things to death, Ashling can explain things to distract people until I think of something, you can build save-the-day machines, and I'll go to art school."

Before Lani could respond, there was a knock on the door. "Come in!" Megan called.

Justin walked in carrying a bass guitar case. He had first acquired it to hide the Claiomh Solais when they might need to go through a crowd to get into Faerie, whether through the usual magic circle in Fremont Peak Park or elsewhere. It was just supposed to be a disguise for the Sword of Light the way that coats or bulky sweatshirts hid his chainmail when he needed it. Right now, however, it contained an actual bass guitar, because Sheila O'Reilly had only needed to spot her daughter's boyfriend with a bass case twice before she'd wanted to be helpful, and delay only helped for a while.

“
How'd the lesson go?” Megan asked.

Justin smiled as he crossed to her desk. “Better than the last, which was better than the two before. I no longer shame your mother by playing the bass badly.” He looked to Lani. “I should thank yours again for showing me how to play it badly in the first place, instead of not at all.”

Megan stood and rose to her tiptoes to kiss Justin's cheek. “Thanks for putting up with the awkward. But hey, at least you learned from the best.” She giggled slightly. “Both in terms of bass-playing and in being enthusiastically lousy at something.” She looked to Lani. “No offense, of course.”

“
None taken,” Lani said. “You know Mom would agree.” As a musician—or a sculptor, or anything else in her extensive hobby collection—Mrs. Kahale was... a very good office manager.

“
And speaking of her,” Justin said. “While I don't mean to rush the two of you, I would love to get home and find out what her new passion for salmon has led to. Besides, I should walk the dog again.”

What to name the puppy had been a topic of tremendous contention in the household. While he was Mack and Justin's, in theory, everyone had to get a word in edgewise. Mack immediately saw the black dog, and wanted to go with 'Batman.' His mother had vetoed that to at least somewhat limit quoted movie lines, particularly after Mack had been given free rein in naming Lani's car. 'Awesome!' had been rejected even more vehemently. Justin had not fully waded into the debate, but admitted his 14th-Century family had simply named dogs something Greek or Latin. Lani and her father focused more on the breed, and amused themselves regularly suggesting 'Lab Results' or 'Laboratory,' partially in the hope that he could be trained in some way to fetch tools or otherwise assist in their workshops.

Mrs. Kahale had made the jump from there, managing to satisfy the mad scientists—or as Lani would insist, mad engineers—in her life and, after pointing out to her 6-year-old that Batman was also a scientist and that winning was awesome, the family eventually settled on 'Victor.'

“
Then let's let Megan tell her Mom the 'study sleepover' is about to begin,” Lani said. “And we'll pile up into
Space Ship!
and go. And tomorrow … well, we'll find out about tomorrow when it happens.”

Chapter 3: Arrivals

Just as the golden sunlight didn't fade in the area around An Teach Deiridh until Halloween, the frost didn't melt before May Day. Megan could, however, see the frost shape into nascent flowerbuds in the branches of various trees. The temperature of the air itself was fairly mild and breezy.

The air was also filled with lamentational pixie sighs.

"What's the matter, Ashling?” Megan asked.

"The Count has been reading the classifieds again. One of the local bands he really likes is auditioning for new lead singers, and he wants to try out."

Megan blinked, looking at the crow as he flew slowly beside her, Ashling on his back. "You're kidding."

"See, that's what I thought, too," Ashling said. She sighed again. "Giving up on his budding operatic career already."

"Caw, caw."

"I don't care what Mario Lanza said about you," Ashling replied to the bird. Megan and Lani exchanged a glance, then Megan just shook her head.

Since they'd first met a year and half before in Findias, Justin had filled out some. The Claiomh Solais sheathed at his hip, with the case left behind in the car, no longer looked a little big for him, and he'd needed to have Lani and Mr. Kahale reconstruct his chainmail a couple of times. Over the chainmail was Justin's 'formal livery,' Seahawks garb. The way he walked here was different than in Seattle. There, he stayed aware of their surroundings and Megan's general safety, but made some attempt not to come across as weird for a friend or boyfriend. Here, he was an official bodyguard. Megan was watching him and deciding that she distinctly approved of his decision to grow his hair out.

"Stay behind me," Justin said, heading towards the castle. "There's a lot of noise up ahead. I'd rather be careful."

True to his observation, the closer they got, the more Megan picked up on the sounds of armored figures moving about, and occasional shouts in a language she didn't understand. Nearing the edge of the trees, she turned, hearing a noise to her right.

“
Caw! Caw!”

“
What did he say?” she asked Ashling.

The pixie, however, was looking further to the right. “That wasn't the Count,” she said. “And besides, you're too young for that kind of language.”

They emerged from the wooded cover to find an unfamiliar crowd on the lawn in front of An Teach Deiridh.

“
Lani,” Megan asked quietly. “Who are the fancy-looking Goliath types with the wooden shields all in a row?”

“
Those are trolls.”

“
They are not. I've met plenty of trolls. I had goat sandwiches with Finn during the Sax & Violins concert at The Showbox. Trolls do not wear fancy uniforms and stand in straight lines.”

“
Some Scandinavian trolls do.”

“
Scandinavians.”

“
Yep.”

Justin eyed the armored group up ahead, holding the group up while he assessed them. Eventually, he started moving again, though he did move to one side of the road, giving the huge fae creatures a slightly wider berth, and kept himself between them and Megan.

Megan continued looking around. Just past the trolls were several rows of tall, fair figures, not quite as lithe as the sidhe, who looked a lot like General Inwar. She figured those were ljosalfar, light elves like him. Megan tried to remember anything she could remember hearing about the General's original people. Mostly that boiled down to the implication that they were even more hardcore than he was, the use of warrior-bards called skalds, and the concept of something called wardenwood. “So those shields may or may not have ghosts in them?”

“
Uh-huh.” Lani did not seem to be feeling very talkative as she looked around.

“
Are the possible ghosts bothering you?” Megan asked.

“
The ghosts are definitely not what is bothering me.”

“
Do we need to talk about this before we walk pas—hey, who are those people over there?”

Megan had almost missed the figures among their large colleagues. At first she thought they were the same size that Lani's dad and other full-blooded menehune were in Faerie, but she soon figured out they were taller than that, nearly five feet. They were just slouching considerably. The older men and women wore their hair in long braids, while some of the younger ones had styled theirs into frazzled pompadours and mohawks, some bright purple, in evocation of children's toys. The death metal tattoos were distinctly less cutesy.

“
Those are also trolls,” said Ashling.

“
You're kidding.” Megan looked to Lani to deliver her from nonsense.

“
She is not,” Lani said.

“
Trolls from where?”

“
Scandinavia.”

“
They're Scandinavian trolls. And so are the huge fancy guys.”

“
Yep.”

“
This is one of those things like Cassia being a faun and a satyr at the same time, isn't it?”

“
Yep.”

Megan got back around to her original question. "So, if the ghosts aren't what's bothering you, then what is?"

“
We need to find out where the Scandinavians came from."

"Scandinavia?"

"I'm serious, Megan. They brought some full-scale war parties."

"Well good. No matter what kind of advanced freezing magic Dad does to the ice, it doesn't stick. So we're about to have a full-scale war on our hands, right? I'm glad they're here."

"I might be. But I might not be. Let's just... let's not panic until I know more, okay?"

"You're the one who is all worked up."

"Fine, okay. Let's just find Cassia. She'll know what's going on, until your dad is free."

The first sign of Cassia turned out to be the leopards, Jude and Maxwell, racing up to greet the teens. Jude balanced on hind legs, putting his hands on Megan's shoulders to offer a nuzzle with his aviator helmet, while Maxwell just raced around the group enthusiastically. Cassia followed, in full horned, hooved, and horse-tailed form, not far behind. "About time you got here," she called.