Bigfootloose and Finn Fancy Free (53 page)

Sal grunted. “Youself true at finding love. And a good friend to the brightbloods.”

“Uh, thanks,” I said, feeling the weight of the spirit trap around my neck, and looked away. I didn't exactly feel like a shining knight. “I guess I can finally update my matchmaker website, anyway.”

Speaking of dates—

I pulled my phone out of my pocket. It was dead. Cell phones didn't play well with water, apparently.

If Dawn had tried to call or text me to ask where I was, I had no way of checking now.

I looked at my Pac-Man watch. It, too, was dead. I stared at it a second, feeling a deep sense of loss.

Frak. “Does anyone know what time it is?”

“A quarter to eight,” Vee replied.

Double frak. Dawn's show began in fifteen minutes, and I was an hour and a half's drive away. The show would be long done before I could even get there.

I made a decision before I could chicken out. “Silene, there
is
something you can do for me, actually. I need to take the fairy paths.”

*Don't do it!* Alynon said. *I do not wish to be stuck within a freak. Well, more of a freak.*

His concern was valid. The stories of arcana who had dared to travel the fairy roads—or Fey Way system—sounded like urban myths: tales of emerging with additional limbs, missing organs, or lost senses, and most often of being driven mad.

The fairy roads were remnants of a time when the Other Realm and our world were closer, when spirits and energy passed more freely between them. Whether some part of the Other Realm had been merged with our world, or the fabric of our space and time had been warped in an attempt to reconcile with the chaos of the Other Realm, nobody knew for sure. Only the results were known. No protection spell had been found to guarantee safe travel for humans; but the brightbloods, being of both worlds like the Ways themselves, were able to travel them safely. Usually.

Silene frowned. “I must caution you, Finn, the ways are not safe for humans.”

“I know. But I have a Fey spirit within me. Perhaps that will protect me.”

Silene shook her head. “Changelings are not immune to the Ways' changes.”

“I know. But I'm not a Fey spirit leasing a human body while its human spirit is away. I have spirits from both worlds in me, same as a brightblood.”

Silene's eyebrows raised. “I had not considered that. You truly are a cousin to us.”

*I am no diluted offspring of some Elder Spirit! I—*

Chill out! I'm no brightblood, either. But that doesn't make what I said any less true.
As much as I'd wanted to deny it the past three months. “Look, if something does happen, I'm sure I can find a way to reverse it, even if it costs some time and serious mana. But one thing I'll never be able to undo is letting Dawn down if I miss her show.”

Silene looked toward the woods, her brow furrowing in thought.

*There shall be other shows,* Alynon said.

Not as important. And not when she'll have to get up there and face the reality that she can't play guitar, maybe ever again—which is my fault.

*'Tis a difficulty to be sure, but you do not owe—*

She's made a real effort to meet me halfway, to support me. I must show her I will do the same.

*She also doesn't want you taking stupid risks.*

It is a risk,
I replied,
but it is not a stupid one, not as far as I'm concerned.

*Fa! You are not trying to punish yourself, are you? For what happened with Dunngo?*

I sighed.
No. That, I will have to atone for for the rest of my life.

“If you are certain,” Silene said at last, and from her voice I thought she might be acceding as much from exhaustion as anything. “I feel such a danger is a poor reward to offer for all you have done, but Farquhar can guide you, he knows the Ways well.” She motioned Antler Head over.

“Thank you,” I said.

Silene nodded. “Farquhar also may see you swiftly to a healer should your journey prove … damaging. I wish you luck, Gramaraye. And again, I thank you.”

“I wish you and your brightbloods luck, in whatever you do from here,” I said. “And, if there's anything I can do to help make sure your dead are properly cared for, let me know.”

“That means a great deal,” Silene said. “Farewell.” With a wave of her hand, she and Sal half-walked, half-stumbled in the direction of her tree.

I walked across the gravel road to where Pete and Vee sat on the mossy hillside, waiting for me. The brightbloods had applied some kind of poultice to Pete's wounds, and between that and his waer healing ability, he appeared out of danger. Vee had a number of cuts and bruises as well, healing just as quickly. And on the ground beside her, her giant squirrel tail lay, apparently ripped from her.

“Are … you okay?” I asked, looking at the tail.

“Yes,” Vee said. “I will grow another in time.”

“Oh. Uh, Pete, how you feeling, buddy?”

“Tired,” Pete said. “And hungry.”

I smiled. “I'm shocked.”

A faun walked up, his attention on Pete and Vee. “Pardon, cousins, but I just wanted to thank you for fighting by our side. It will be remembered.”

Pete blushed. “Thanks,” he said, “but I was just protecting my brother.”

“All the same,” the faun replied, and with a nod, strolled off.

“Seems you made some friends,” I said, smiling. My smile faded. “Listen, I'm taking the fairy roads back. I want you guys to go ahead and drive home without me.”

They both stood, and made all the same arguments Silene, Alynon, and my own fears had made. And when it became clear neither of them could talk me out of my plan, they exchanged a look that I felt pretty sure was them considering dragging me off by force. But in the end, we all exchanged hugs and said farewell.

As I hugged Pete, I said, “I love you, man.” I hugged him tighter. “I'm glad you're my brother. Really.”

“I love you, too, Brother,” Petey said, and squeezed back, nearly cracking my already-bruised ribs.

We said farewell, and they headed for the car, and home.

Farquhar approached and nodded his antlered head in the direction of the forest. “Come, I will lead you to the nearest Way if you are still determined to walk it.”

“Yep. Still determined.”

The entrance to the fairy paths was well-concealed, even from me. Farquhar pointed out its location on a rock face between two trees. But when I tried to actually approach it on my own it was like trying to press two opposing magnets together: in whatever way reality was twisted around the paths, it bent normal perception and physics around it.

In the end, Farquhar had to put his hands on my shoulder and walk me into it.

One second we were in the forest, the next we were being squeezed like the last bit of toothpaste along a tube of warped color and sound. I might have found it hard to keep my balance if I'd been walking on a regular path, what with the world spinning around me and all, but since the path itself quickly decided to join in on the prank against my senses, there was little sense in worrying.

It reminded me of the unshaped wilds of the Other Realm, as seen through a warped lens. I had no idea how Farquhar navigated the chaos.

And as in the Other Realm, I felt my body losing its shape, stretching and bending and changing to match the reality around it. A second head began to grow out of my shoulder, expanding like a balloon, the mouth gasping like a fish desperate for a cold refreshing Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster. I recognized the features. Alynon. Was this my unconscious fears, or his spirit finding form in this between space?

I did my best to exert my will over my perceptions and my own existence. I had spent twenty-five years in the Other Realm. More than most arcana, I had been prepared for this, trained for this. I was Finn Gramaraye, human, arcana, necromancer, and I only had one head, damn it.

Alynon's head deflated and reformed into a frog-like lump that glared up at me with bubble eyes. And I felt as though my own head spun now. If Farquhar had not pulled me along, I might have just whirled away into the void.

Had I made a mistake? Would I emerge sane and whole enough that Dawn would even recognize me, let alone appreciate that I'd made it to her show?

Dawn. I focused on her, and the memory of making love to her floated to the surface.

When I had tried to think of the “feel” and shape of my own skin, my own limbs, it had been intellectual, an attempt to enforce my self-concept. But in remembering Dawn's touch I
felt
my skin where her hand and lips had brushed. In remembering her fingers digging into my back, into my butt cheeks, I
felt
them. I remembered my body.

The frog head melted away, leaving only my shoulder, the shoulder where Dawn had lightly bit me, teasing me with her teeth.

And then Farquhar gave me a hard pull, and I tumbled out into the night air.

I was clothed again. Those clothes were still damp and filthy, but at least I wasn't naked. Which was especially good since we'd emerged from a hillside in Fort Worden, not far from the campground.

I patted myself all over, craning my neck to make sure I had all my important bits and nothing extra.

And I seemed sane, though I supposed if I weren't I'd be the last to know.

“Woo hoo!” I shouted.

Farquhar looked at me with a genuine expression of surprise. “You are well, Finn Gramaraye?”

“Yes. Wow. Now that was one major slime-related psychokinetic event!”

*You jerk!* Alynon said. *You almost got us mutated!*

And I slapped myself. Hard.

Not by choice.

“Ow!” I blinked in surprise. “What—”

*Holy Bright! That was me! I did that!*

No. Oh no—

*Let me try again!* My hand twitched, as if with a muscle spasm, but did not move. *Fa, I—oh, I feel … weak. I—* His voice faded out.

Alynon?
I projected. But there was no response. “Alynon?” I asked out loud, just in case.

*Here,* he responded, though I could barely hear his voice. *I just feel … sleepy.* His voice faded out again.

Farquhar's eyes narrowed. “You are sure all is well?”

I sighed. “That's a good question. But I'm not crazy. Or dying.” I was, however, at least a thirty-minute walk away from Dawn's show, and probably much longer given my injured leg. “Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but, uh, could you get me closer to town?”

“Not by the Ways,” Farquhar responded. “But there may be another means.” He tilted back his head, and made a strange, bleating sound into the night air.

I didn't question, I focused instead on trying to swipe as much of the dirt from my clothes and skin as I could. A few minutes later, a two hundred pound white-tailed buck bounded out of the forest and up to Farquhar, tilting his head in a bow. His antlers were lopsided, all of the branches on one side, the other side a single simple tine.

I thanked Farquhar, and soon was bounding along the beach on the back of the buck.

While the ride was much appreciated, I can't say as I'd recommend it. The buck's spine was sharp, painfully so, and his gait bounding. By the time we neared the marina in town, I seriously questioned my ability to have children in the future. And I was more than a little worried about ticks.

A young couple at the marina's RV park took pictures of me arriving and dismounting. I waved. At least I wasn't riding a centaur or anything the ARC's infomancers would have to scrub from the interwebs and possibly people's memories.

I limped quick as I could to the Undertown. As I hopped down the stairs, I could hear Dawn's voice and a guitar humming from below.

I'd made it, at least for most of it.

The place was packed. I stayed near the back of the cafe/bar, but it was a small enough space that Dawn still easily spotted me.

Her smile made every risk and pain I'd endured to get there worth it.

She looked beautiful, radiant. She'd traded her normal T-shirt and hoodie for a satiny green dress with brown lacy patterns down the sides, and her violet hair sparkled in the stage lights.

Amber played the guitar well enough, but I could tell Dawn felt exposed and uncertain of what to do with her hands at times. Still, she sang as perfectly as I'd ever heard her.

After she sang her last song, and climbed down from the stage to loud applause, she thanked her way through the crowd to me.

She took in my stained, rumpled clothes, and my face that felt like it was made of one-hundred-percent real organic bruise.

“So,” she said. “I'm guessing Heather's drug didn't solve everything, and more wackiness ensued? What's tomorrow's quest, steal the Spear of Destiny from the top of the Space Needle?”

“No more quests,” I said, wincing as the movement made my swollen lip hurt. “It's all done. For real. You were amazing. I think this was the best show you've done, singing-wise.”

“I felt it,” she said, grinning. “I was really in the flow. It was … religious.” She glanced back in the direction of the stage. “And Sheila wants to talk to me.”

“Go! Talk to her! This is your big break!” I said, squeezing her hand. “I'm so happy for you. How about I go home, clean up real quick while you two are talking, and come back for the after party?”

Dawn shook her head, but with a loving smile. “No. You look like crap. And I know you don't like to hang out with my friends, anyway. I'll be fine. You go home and rest up. And I'll come by later to kiss all your boo-boos.” She waggled her eyebrows at me, then leaned in and said softly into my ear, “Thank you, Finn, for being here. It made a difference. I love you.” She kissed my cheek.

Then she turned without waiting for my reply and walked back into the crowd.

And in that moment, whatever residual adrenaline or sheer willpower had kept me going ran out, and I could feel every single one of my cuts and bruises.