Foul is Fair (9 page)

"The Goddess Brigid," Cassia said, as she took the blankets folded to set herself up on the floor while Lani and Megan shared the bed. "When Riocard was young, he knew her son."

“Oh. Huh. Bridget is my middle name,” Megan remarked.

“Of course it is,” Cassia said.

Megan shrugged, then canted her head slightly. "I've heard the Gods mentioned a couple of times. So, if faeries are real, I'm guessing some of them are, too?"

"Are, were, something like that," Cassia said. "But Brigid and all the rest left, as part of sealing the Fomoire away. They set a lot of things in motion, then left the fae to keep an eye on things. At least these Gods. There's different stories, and different enemies. Only a few, like Riocard, Orlaith, her General Inwar, and the Gray Lady, actually remember a time when the Gods were still around. But it's worked. The Fomoire, the titans, all of the giants—they're all gone too."

Lani glanced at Cassia like there was something more to the story, but the satyr shrugged as she arranged the blankets and folded a few maps. Lani sighed, looking to Megan. "We'll talk about it more later. Let's just check for anything worth packing for a trip into the wilderness, then get to bed.”

Megan agreed, and resumed looking around, less interested in sleep than in learning about her father. In her wanderings, her eyes settled on an antique grand piano, shoved casually out of the way and left to gather dust. What wasn't dusty, however, was one of the books of music resting on it. Megan quickly determined that she had no idea what the actual wording said, but she could read the notes. As she did, she began to hear an odd melody in her head, unlike any song she'd ever heard, and after a short while of imagining the sound, an image flashed through her brain of gusts of wind carrying Autumn leaves along. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to continue hearing the notes in her mind, and the Autumn imagery became more prominent. She only stopped when she felt Lani's hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently. "What?"

"You were humming, and, well, you probably shouldn't," Lani said, gesturing to the floor. Stacks of loose paper from the piano's song selections littered the floor, and a few more sheets were still lazily drifting downward.

"I did that?" Megan asked, eyes following one of the sheets down.

"You are half-sidhe. You were bound to run into some sort of magic sometime."

"Huh," Megan began, fighting off the temptation to begin humming the tune again. "I wonder what sort of magic Lindsay Stirling covers would do."

"Can we not find out just now?" Lani asked. "I'd like to sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a long, long day.”

"Sure, fair enough." Megan agreed, getting into the bed, but only after picking up the papers and putting the music book with the packed things.

“Personally,” Cassia contributed from the floor, “I think punk violinists make a kind of a magic you need to find out about when you're older.”

Megan tried to bed down. “These are nice pillows at least,” she said.

“
Quality pillows are very important to royalty," Ashling said. "Not to mention the importance of under-pillow storage and commerce."  

"...What, like the Tooth Fairy?"  

"My cousin Nessa used to do Tooth Fairy work, a long, long time ago. Her unit was reassigned due to their real creative solution to not having exact change.”

Megan just sighed and didn't ask any further.

Getting to sleep wasn't easy. The looming risk, combined with trying to absorb that everything around her was real, and was really happening, kept Megan awake. Somewhere amidst tossing and turning and pondering how easily Cassia and Ashling drifted off even with tomorrow's adventure ahead of them, Megan finally managed.

In her dreams, she saw herself standing on a carpet of fallen leaves, with the book of music in hand. She started turning the pages, sight-reading the music, singing words she didn't understand. As she did, the wind gradually rose around her, picking up the leaves and carrying them along. The leaves swirled around Megan, lifting and spinning and dancing to the tune. Gradually, both melody and words changed, shifting from the unknown music to the sounds of “Radioactive.”

As it did, she heard a saxophone managing to accompany it. Turning with the swirl of wind, she saw Cassia, playing her sax in time with the winds. Strings joined in, as the satyr's dreadlocked violinist girlfriend stepped up beside her. More joined, and Megan spun around the other way. The woman playing the bass guitar was her mother, but as she played, her hair came loose from the severe bun, and she shook the long red locks free. The woman's business jacket seemed almost to slough away or disintegrate, revealing her rock band t-shirt, as her attention never wavered from her bassline. Somewhere in the midst of her playing, a green snake starting winding down her arm.

The music abruptly changed, a version of the “Game of Thrones” theme now. The whirling leaves sped up, and Cassia and Megan's mother switched songs and tempo without missing a beat, as the lead guitar line echoed on the wind, originating somewhere behind Megan. As she started to turn, she woke up—everyone else was still sleeping, and the room was dark.
Still, she knew
the pages of music were scattered around her again, and even in the dark, she could see Brigid's intense green eyes staring at her.

Chapter 14: Venturing into the Wilds

“So which way are we headed?” Megan asked as Cassia hitched up the cats and put the extra pack of supplies in the chariot.

“That way,” Ashling indicated. “Towards the Unfordable River.”

“Sounds reassuring,” Megan said dryly.

"Don't worry," Ashling said, "We're headed for the part with the flesh-eating fish, not any of the Jenny Greenteeths, Greentooths, Jennies Greenteeth ... well, there's a bunch of them. Twenty-seven, I think. They might have gone to school together."

Megan sighed. "Flesh-eating fish?"

"And fast-moving rapids. And we're right between a couple of the whirlpools. They'll occasionally try to meander out a bit, just to see if they can get in on the drowning-people action,” Ashling said.

"Whirlpools... don't usually do that."

"Not the whirlpools you're used to," Lani said, "Keep in mind where you're at. The environment is going to have a certain attitude about things sometimes.”

“And we do not just mean flora and fauna,” Ashling said in an attempt to re-seize the conversation. “The magic in the very essence of a place will care deeply about some things and not others. The ballroom at An Teach Deiridh has an incredibly hidebound, aristocratic personality, and there's no reasoning with it—although my cousin Nessa tried once. With visual aids.”

Lani continued the original subject. “Besides, the river has to be pretty bad in order to keep the pack on the other side."

"Pack?" Megan asked, not liking the sound of this.

"You saw some of the pictures of the Wild Hunt. When the huntsman calls them, they can come to him over anything, to anywhere. The rest of the time, when they're not chasing someone down, they need somewhere to be. The plains on the other side of the river is it."

"Oh, well of course. So we're crossing an uncrossable river, in order to go hang out with some hounds that love nothing better than running people down?"

"That's only when the huntsman calls them," Cassia said, "Without his magic behind them, sometimes they like to chase, sometimes they just like to sunbathe. And they're not quite as tireless, only mostly."

"Still, very reassuring," Megan responded.

"Megan, we're going to manage it," Lani said, catching up and laying a hand on Megan's shoulder, "I have some ideas."

"Besides," said Ashling, "Getting there is just half the challenge. Findias itself is bound to be much worse. Enough people have gone there and back that we know about the rivers and hounds. No one gets past the front gates, or if they do, they haven't come back."

"Are you sure you're Seelie?" Megan asked the overly cheerful pixie.

"You get too hung up on the teams things," Ashling answered. "Seelie just comes from an old word meaning cheerful anyway."

"I thought you said it was punctual."

"Punctuality is among my virtues, but it's definitely all about the cheerful part."

"What about the Queen and her General, and those knights? They looked pretty serious."

"On the outside, sure. Inside, they're singing show tunes and doing high kicks. Trust me."

Megan blinked, trying to picture that and failing. "If you say so. Are you going to tell me the real story of where faeries come from next?"

Lani grinned at Megan, "You're catching on," she said quietly.

"Of course I am," Ashling responded without taking any notice of sarcasm or Lani's response, "Faeries come from the dust the eldest Gods rubbed out of their eyes when they first awoke."

"Fascinating," Megan said, "Now, just to check, if Seelie means cheerful, does that mean Unseelie means not cheerful? Because the Gray Lady kind of looks it, but Cassia..."

"I'm crying on the inside," Cassia said without missing a beat.

"I'm sure you are," Megan said.

"You'd think so, but they're actually totally unrelated words, very different entomologies," Ashling said.

"I think you mean etymologies," Megan replied.

"I would, except Unseelie are descended from dragonflies, so it totally applies."

"Aren't Unseelie still faeries?"

"Well of course they are. Are you still worried about the teams thing? There's not as much difference as you seem to think. Sure, the Unseelie are more prone to, say, eat people or cheer for the villain in slasher flicks, but otherwise, not so different."

Megan was about to respond, but Lani shook her head. "I'll keep that in mind," Megan replied instead of her previous question. She reviewed the conversation in her head. “Speaking of the Gray Lady, if will o' wisps feed on emotion, why're some hanging out with her? She's got more of a zombie thing going than an emotional thing.”

“Grief is an emotion,” Cassia said. “Those wisps just don't mind getting the same thick, juicy steak five meals a day.”

“What happened?”

“She lost her kid. A long, long time ago, but it kind of overwhelmed her identity. She's not a zombie. She's a bean sidhe.”

“Banshee? I thought they screamed. She doesn't even talk.”

“Let's just be glad of that, okay?”

After walking a little further in relative quiet, Megan finally asked the other question that had been bothering her. "So, that redcap, the one who chased us before, and was hanging out with his buddies back at—"

"An Teach Deiridh," Lani filled in.

"Yeah, that place," Megan said. "How likely is it he's going to get a bunch of his buddies and come after us now? I mean, obviously someone trapped my father, and they won't want us to get the sword."

"About even odds," Cassia said, "Depending on how much they really want to stop you versus how much they don't want to upset the Queen, or be on Riocard's bad side if you succeed."

"But they came after me before."

"Sure, but no one cared then. You were on Earth. A few of us like the place, but most faeries only visit every now and then. Now, lots of people are watching. You're not just some mortal who doesn't know anything, anymore. You're the King's daughter. People will notice, and care, if you disappear now."

"But they might still come after us?"

"Oh sure. They could. Obviously, someone put an awful lot of effort and magical resources into this. Trapping Riocard isn't a small feat. You don't live for thousands of years, and rule for a lot of those, by being an idiot."

"You don't seem very worried."

"If they come after us, we'll deal with it. I think they're much more likely to hope the river, the hounds, or the city kill us. Of course, I could be wrong."

"And if you are?"

"Then I figure out which of the cats to listen to."

"Which of the cats?"

"Well, yes. Maxwell is pretty sure we can outfight a gang of redcaps or hags or bogies or whatever else there is."

"And Jude?"

Cassia grinned in a way that didn't suggest she wasn't being entirely serious. "He's pretty sure we can outrun you."

Chapter 15: The Unfordable River

The girls looked over the roiling water.

“Well.... Cassia... can you possibly jump it in that thing, if you got enough of a start?”

Cassia surveyed the river. “...Nope,” she said at last.

Meanwhile, the leopard on the left was intently focused ahead, muscles tensing under his fur.

“Maxwell really wants to try, though,” Cassia added.

For a while, they all sat in the near-tangible moonlight, which suffused the night air the way the golden haze had the day. The girls munched on the granola bars and sandwiches that Lani had packed for reasons of Lani. Megan was starving. Of course, she'd been constantly hungry ever since the orange pills hadn't been orange pills anymore. Of course, for this trip, she hadn't even brought the multi-colored ones.