Advanced Mythology (9 page)

“I applaud you, Keith Doyle, but the lovely Diane is not going to like the change.”

Keith smacked himself in the forehead. “I forgot to call her.” He took the blue-green cell telephone out of his pocket.

“No, use our phone,” Holl insisted. “A local call will surely be less costly than your per-minute charge. The Internet banner ads are full of details about them. It is a costly indulgence that in this case is unnecessary.”

“Thanks,” Keith said, hoisting himself to his feet. He brushed an accumulation of sawdust off his front and backside. “You have got to see Doris, Holl. It’s amazing.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Holl said. “In the meantime, keep it to yourself.”

* * *

But Keith found that difficult to do. Nearly everyone in the workroom had been eavesdropping, their sensitive hearing picking up every word over the sound of power tools, and it instantly became the subject of intense gossip. When Keith went into the house to use the telephone, they were waiting for him. At the head of a contingent of Conservative elves, Keva marched up to confront Keith, hands firmly clamped to her hips.

“What’s this nonsense you’ve been filling my granddaughter’s ears with?” she shrilled. “All this machinery, this technology—it’s unnecessary!”

“But it’s fun, Keva,” Keith said. “Sure you can live without it, but it’s like anything else: it’s meant to make life easier.”

“I don’t need my life made easier!”

“Well, you know Big Folks,” Keith said, sitting down on the floor so he was at eye-level to her. “We’re lazy. We like labor-saving devices. It all started with carpet-sweepers, you know. They were mechanical, not electronic. And typewriters with moveable type …”

Keva interrupted him with an impatient wave. “This thing you want, this Doris, doesn’t sweep floors. What’s it really for?”

“Well,” Keith said, “it helps organize the little things in your life. If you want to make lists or take notes, you can do that. If you want to take pictures, it takes pictures. It can carry games you can play anywhere. Or video. Or if you have time when you’re traveling it can teach you how to play the piano. The piano emulation software is going to be included as an extra.” As the expressions around him grew more uncomprehending, Keith took off on a full flight of enthusiasm. “This device is capable of full streaming video, audio, interactive gaming, shared gaming through infrared or radio-wave connection, or fully online, either modem or wireless web. It has a huge memory, a fast processor, and shielded interfaces. You can even get an earpiece so you can listen to music or talk on the phone while the unit is open on your lap. Uh …”

He realized he had made a mistake. The more technical his babble became, the more sour the faces of Keva and those other Conservatives in the kitchen grew. In fact, he had made another mistake in sitting down. Now he was crowded by angry Little Folk, all complaining at the top of their voices. He had no room to get up without stepping on someone’s feet.

“Must ye amuse yourself to death?” demanded Curran, white-haired clan chief of Holl’s family, going chin to chin with Keith. “That’s the trouble with ye Big Folk. Ye won’t enjoy real life, when it’s right underneath yer nose.”

“Do ye need so many toys?” Shelogh asked. She was Catra’s and Candlepat’s mother. “A camera, if ye have no talent to draw yourself, a book, and a pad of paper give you all the same pleasure, with no batteries.”

“But everything’s all in the same toy,” Keith pointed out. “With it you don’t need the rest, including pen and paper—even books. It’ll hold several in memory. Saves lots of weight. You’d like that.” He appealed to the Master, who appeared behind the other Folk. “You can go to a lot of sites and download all kinds of books. Lots of them are free.”

“Even so, this device is unlikely to haf afailable books for download ve vould find uf interest.”

“True,” Keith admitted. “So Newton’s memoirs are unlikely to be digitized. For now. But if you had a PDA, your
notes
would be in one place.”

“Until you ran out of batteries,” Tiron pointed out dryly.

“I’ve got a secret weapon,” Keith said, with a sly tap at the side of his nose. “Enoch taught me how to recharge them. But look, you’re already surrounded by technology. It’s here. You use it every day.”

“Too much surrounded!” exclaimed Aylmer. “Telephones! Automobiles! Helicopters!”

“Central heating,” the Master pointed out in a calm voice. “Vashing machines. Power tools. Vhy should ve not make use of that vhich is already here and available? That vhich ve do not vant is easily rejected. Ve should take advahntage of reliable power that doesn’t exhaust the user to maintain.”

“We’re forgetting our past,” Keva argued. “The Old Ones would ne’er fall into such ease.”

“Och, that’s not so,” Tiron said with a dismissive wave, “and it would be as well to know that the Old Ones are interested in the new ways as well as the traditional ones. The Niall would like this Pee-Dee-Ay as much as Keith Doyle, so he would. Why, they had their computer months before we did.”

“Hmmph!” Keva snorted. “And now just because we all have the evil boxes doesn’t mean it was a good thing for us to do.”

Tiron looked as though he wanted to laugh, but kept it in, for which Keith was grateful.

“And do you not like hearing the voices of those you thought were lost to you forever? I know my kin do. They’d not have let me go unless they could be certain of my wellbeing. This is so much less expensive than long distance telephone calls.” He looked around at the crowd of Conservatives, matching them sneer for sneer. “Well?”

“It’s all Keith Doyle’s fault anyhow,” Curran began, trying to stir up his fellows again. He might have succeeded if Holl had not marched in at that moment and cut Keith out of the crowd.

“Shoo. He needs the telephone. You don’t want your voices heard, do you?”

Most of the Conservatives fled in alarm. Tiron sauntered out, slapping Holl and Keith on the backs as he went.
Cock of the walk,
Holl thought,
but I’m grateful for his support.

The Elf Master was the last to leave, his blue eyes watchful behind his gold glasses, and his mouth pursed in amusement.

At last Keith was able to get to his feet.

“Boy, now I know how you feel in the middle of a crowd of Big Folks,” he said, brushing off the seat of his pants. “It’s a real disadvantage.”

“I apologize for that,” Holl said, making sure the last of them was gone. “They’re all looking for a scapegoat to shout at, and you fed one of their pet complaints to bursting.”

“Still bent about the server under the table?” Keith asked.

“Oh, yes,” Holl sighed. “Though they consider it a concession to avoiding further interference in our business. Any mention of it sets them off.”

“Sounds like the symptom of something else,” Keith said wisely. “Any problems I ought to know about?”

“Big Folk sniffing around,” Holl said shortly. “They almost spotted some of us early today, and not the young-looking ones who are easy to explain away. It was sheer carelessness. And we discovered that there were holes in the barrier spell that protects the edge of our property. If it is not there our presence all but cries out that we are here. We must guard ourselves a little more closely. It’s a burden, but one we’re used to carrying.”

“I wish I could swap problems with you,” Keith said, lifting the telephone receiver.

“Oh, no, you don’t, my friend,” Holl said under his breath. “No, you don’t.”

***

Chapter 8

“I’m sorry,” Keith said. He’d said it again and again over the last hour. He had a deep well of apologies to draw from. It looked as though he was going to need the whole aquifer. Diane had sat through about half the recitation of his revised plans, then burst into furious tears, scolding him for thoughtlessness, unreliability and not thinking of anyone but himself. Keith weathered the storm, trying to figure out how to make the situation better. He couldn’t. It was his choice and his fault. He pleaded for her to understand.

“It’s a great opportunity for me,” he said, trying to catch her eye as she stormed past him, pacing from wall to wall in the small apartment. “I could wait another year, maybe two, for a break like this, and then there might not be any room for me. I just jumped for it when it happened. I’m sorry. I should have called to run it by you.”

“I was looking forward to spending a lot of time with you this year,” Diane said, her eyes still red. “It was nice being able to
count
on having you here for your master’s program during my senior year. I missed you a lot during your semester up in Chicago. This is our last year together before … before it all gets real.”

“I know. I’ve missed you, too.” Keith felt helpless in the face of her unhappiness. He caught for her hand. “Look, I helped Dorothy get the account. That’s all I was supposed to do for her. She and the rest of her team can take it from there. I am the weakest part of the chain. My inexperience could even sink them. They don’t need me to keep it going. If you don’t want me to go to Chicago, I’ll turn them down. Dorothy will find someone else who knows what he’s doing.”

Diane turned away and looked out the small window. She was silent a long while. Keith wished he
had
thought to call her before accepting the position in the first place. It had seemed so obvious at the time, but now he wasn’t so sure. He couldn’t be in two places at once, and she
had
been counting on him. They didn’t get much time together when he was down here full time, what with their school and work schedules. He hoped he hadn’t destroyed the trust the two of them had been building for three years. He loved her so very much.

“No,” she said at last, turning around. “You’re right. I can’t be so selfish. It’s a good opportunity. This is what you like doing. I hope it works out for you. I want you to have what you want. It’s for both of us, right?”

“Of course,” Keith said, relieved. “It won’t be so bad. I’ll still be down here every weekend. It’s a five-day-a-week job. Unless they’re cranking on something, everyone goes home about 4:30.”

Diane’s blue-green eyes crinkled, seeing the funny side even though she was still sore. “Including junior copywriters? Including hyperactive ones who see a future for themselves at the company?”

Keith grinned. “Including those. By five every Friday I’ll be on my way down here to throw myself at your feet.” He dropped to his knees before her and threw his arms open wide.

“Oh, get up,” Diane said in mock exasperation. “I just wasn’t ready to deal with you being gone again.”

Keith sprang to his feet and put his arms around her. He was glad when she nestled close and put her head on his shoulder. He stroked the silk of her hair, thankful to be forgiven. “Hey, it might not last. It depends on how long the project lasts, and what they want me to do. I could be out the door again tomorrow. Then I’ll be back here full time.”

“No, I don’t want that,” Diane said firmly, lifting her head to meet his eyes. “It’ll be okay. I’m all right. But you’d better call me every day. I just get lonely.”

“You’ll never know I’m gone,” Keith promised her. “The phone company will declare a dividend based on my bills. It could bankrupt the state. Whole markets might collapse!”

Diane laughed and shook her head. “It’s hard to stay mad at you, you idiot.”

“My one saving grace,” Keith said. “Uh, I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you, well, keep an eye on the farm for me? I hate to leave everyone in the lurch, but maybe you can look after each other.”

Diane shook her head. “You’ve got to stop trying to be all things to all people,” she said wistfully. “Once in a while it would be nice if you were just all things to one person.”

“I know,” Keith said ruefully. “I’m not very good at delegating.”

Diane grabbed him by the lapels and looked deeply into his eyes.

“Learn,” she said.

* * *

“So you’ve invited the Big One to live here each and every weekend?” Curran demanded, standing up. “How could you be so foolish with the troubles we’re havin’? Bill collectors? Hikers invading our land? And what about that man fro’ the Preservation Council? He’s a persistent one!”

Holl stood at the center of a village conclave. Upon hearing the news his clan chief had called for a full meeting with all attending. The Conservatives, mostly older Folk, were massed on one side of the large living room. The Progressives filled the other. Holl stood in the middle, cramped and hot between Catra, the Archivist, taking notes, and the Master, seeming at ease in his deep chair. He would have been more comfortable if they had agreed to hold the meeting outside, as was their new-made summer custom, but the elders insisted they didn’t want even the possibility of being overheard. Early in the summer the Folk had had plans to build on an extension to the house to use as a regular meeting hall. No one had brought it up recently.

“I don’t regret the impulse at all,” Holl said, and the Progressives sitting behind him murmured their agreement. Only the Elf Master seemed neutral on the issue. “It’s a small favor. We have plenty of room in the workshop. It’s not used at night, and it’s warm and insulated. Why shouldn’t he have the use of a bed? He’ll be spending little time here except to sleep. Between travel, classes, and his ladylove, he’s got a full schedule. It would have drawn his attention if I had not made the offer.”

“But he must be here at least some of the time awake,” Aylmer pointed out, “since he is continuing his studies under our Master’s tutelage. We should haf been asked. It is a community, after all.”

“And I vill claim his attention,” the Master assured him. “But there is a point that must be considered. Ve cannot belief that Keith Doyle vill be blindfolded and deaf during his stay. He vill know that something troubles us.”

“It’s a curse,” Shelogh announced, her voice thin with stress. “There is a curse upon this place, and we should stay no longer. We discovered one homestead. Why not find another?”

“It is not so easy as that,” Tay said. “We were lucky, and we had the services of Keith Doyle to help us search.”

“It is not a curse,” Enoch said. “What do you call a curse that only works its evil when there’s a break in the charm around the house?”

“What do you think causes the holes to appear?” Dierdre, Shelogh’s clan leader, asked.

“Logic would suggest,” said Catra, “that something’s either coming in or going out. But which?”

“Logic vould suggest,” the Elf Master said gently, “that perhaps something came in, then vent out, and so on.”

“You are amazingly cool about this,” Catra said, giving him an odd look.

The village headman turned his gaze fully upon her. “But consider: if it is a curse it vould be vorking all uf the time. If it is a being that meant us serious harm, ve vould know that, too.”

“We don’t know what it wants,” Shelogh said, throwing up her hands.

“We don’t know if it’s an
it
!”
Candlepat said. “It could be a curse upon the land where this house was built. It’s more than possible that a Big Person living here would have no conception of it; they’re so insensitive. They might only have had the feeling something was wrong.”

“Vhy else vould the owner haf sold so cheap?” Aylmer added.

Everyone stopped talking for a moment to consider that idea. Holl waited warily for someone to break the silence. It didn’t take long. They all burst out talking at once.

“We should never have come to live where Big Folk have been. It’s wrong!”

“A curse could be working all the time. We may not notice,” Marm said.

“No, I disagree. It’s awfully directed for something that’s a general curse upon the house,” said Tiron.

Tay nodded.

“Maybe we should have been looking at one person.”

“Aren’t we going to a lot of trouble to imagine what we cannot touch, see, or sense?” Maura asked.

“It reqvires more infestigation,” said Bracey.

“Has no one noticed that it all seems to happen whenever someone goes down into the cellar?” Tay asked, trying to get everyone’s attention. “One person in particular?”

“And which one person are you pointin’ a finger at?” Curran demanded. “We all go down the cellar.”

“Well, we’ve all gotten sick from Marm’s wine,” Tay began. “That vintage he served at the graduation party.…” The round-faced male sprang at him and stuck his chin at the white-haired youngster.

“You take that back, you stick-insect! You chose the keg. It could be you that took some not ready to drink and made us all ill.”

“D’you think I can’t read the signs?” Tay insisted, standing his ground, though his face was as white as his beard. “No, I can read ones that are well-drawn.… Perhaps you’ve ceased to care if yours are legible.”

“You pup! I am the most careful person who lives here! Not like you, pushing your nose in where it doesn’t belong!”

Tay cocked back his fist and drove it into Marm’s eye. The brewer staggered back a pace, but was quick to respond, grabbing the younger male by the back of the neck. Tay batted at his hands, trying to free himself. His teeth were bared like a beast’s. By now everyone in the room was on their feet.
Heaven’s help, this is not like us,
Holl thought, alarmed. He pushed in between them, shoving them apart.

“Stop!” he cried. But the two didn’t listen. They ignored him, circling one another warily. Marm was not a practiced fighter. Holl easily ducked under a punch he swung, grabbed him around the body, and shoved him toward his wife and family. Tay lunged, but Holl was there, holding him around the waist. He stopped, tossing his head like a frightened horse.

“Don’t you dare brawl like Big Folk,” Holl scolded them. “They can go so far away from each other that they’ll never meet again, but we must stay close. All the world’s against us. We only have each other. Choose your words with care. An accusation now that is found later to be without a basis.…” Holl let his voice trail off. Tay took the point, but Marm was too angry to let it drop right away.

“He’s accused me of poison. I will not rest with that ringing in my ears.”

“Well, Tay?” Holl asked.

Tay let his gaze drop to his shoes. “I take it back.” He raised his face, his eyes ablaze. “But I still say there’s a curse, whether it be on him or not.”

“Well, I say there’s not,” Holl said. “We’ll go look and see if there’s something else in the cellar. Who is with me?”

Enoch stood up. His father turned a mild look of reproof upon him, and he sat down.

“Vhy should more than one go to look?” the Master asked. “It is not a large place. You cannot profe a negative.”

“All right, then,” Holl said, mentally squaring his shoulders. “I will see if there’s evidence of a positive.”

He strode out of the room. The others watched him go in silence.

“Why?” Enoch demanded, as soon as Holl was gone.

The Elf Master sighed. “It is a test, my son.”

“Bah,” Enoch said. “Some community.” He stalked out after Holl.

* * *

He found Holl crouching near the back wall where pipes entered the house from the well, examining something. The fair-haired male glanced up as Enoch came in. Enoch thought he saw hope and relief flash across his brother-in-law’s face that somebody had come to keep him company, but the expression was gone as soon as it registered. He was grateful for the thousandth time that Holl was to be the next Headman of the village, and not him. Imagine, having to keep one’s temper all of the time.

“Any negatives or positives?” he asked.

“You cannot call it good news,” Holl said, rocking back on his heels, “but yes. When Marm threw a fuss the other day about the protective spells being broken I came down here with the others. I felt the seal myself. Something has been trying to pierce the spell since then. See for yourself.”

Enoch came closer and extended his hands, sensing, almost listening with his fingertips. The power that should have surrounded the foundation like a seamless garment was nearly holed through, almost as though fire had been applied, melting out an irregular circle. Together, they strengthened the protection, smoothing out the roughness.

“But did it come from within or without?” he asked. “Are we constantly trapping something in here that wishes to be elsewhere, or do we have an intruder? And what does it want?”

Holl stood up. “For once I agree with Candlepat. Is it an it? We might merely have stumbled upon a force of some kind. This
feels
old. Timeless.”

“Hmph. Because we don’t know the source of it. It is only unfamiliar. Don’t mistake strange for ancient.”

Holl studied the wall. He didn’t say aloud that he wished Keith Doyle was there with him, but he did. He missed that cheerful courage that Keith had displayed on their visit to Europe, his open willingness to try anything, blundering forth good-naturedly into everything, trusting that every situation would come out all right, and carrying on like a hero when it did not. The expression on Enoch’s face told him he knew what Holl was thinking. Holl, ashamed to be caught, put Keith out of his mind at once and concentrated on what was before him. “The old house itself could be registering a protest, now that there are 80 of us living here instead of two elderly Big Folk.”

Enoch shook his head. “Those of us with good stone-sense went over the foundation a dozen times since we’ve moved in here. The old ones insisted. They thought the house might come down around us. It hasn’t, and it won’t. The house is not to blame.”

“The only feeling I get from this is a troubling one, of uneasiness,” Holl said, trying to put into words what he felt. “And anger. I feel that something is very angry.”