Tyger Tyger (17 page)

"I thought you might," Finn said.

More and more cats arrived, on both sides of the tracks.

"Walk right in the middle, Aiden. Don't be afraid. They can't reach us."

"But what if—"

"Shhh," Finn said. "Let's not give them ideas."

They walked single file, Teagan first, Aiden in the middle, and Finn bringing up the rear as the
cat-sídhe
paced them, snarling and cursing, and speaking in a guttural, hissing language of their own.

Aiden started humming to himself. Teagan ignored him and focused on the voices of the
cat-sídhe.
They were saying something important. She walked closer to the rail, trying to make out the words in their yowling.

"Tea!" Finn shouted. "Don't listen to them. They're calling you over where they can touch you. If they do, it gets much harder not to obey them. Goblins steal your will away, or try to. It's worse if you're tired. You didn't sleep much, did you?"

"Um," Teagan said. It was happening again, the same way it had the night before, when the
cat-sídhe
had tried to get her to give them Aiden. Her arms had felt so weak then, but now it was her legs...

"Tea!" Finn pushed past Aiden and grabbed her shoulder. "You're drifting. Look, there's a bridge ahead of us." A steel railway bridge arched over the tracks. "Keep your eyes on it. That's where we're going. Can you do it?"

"Yes." Teagan fixed her eyes on the bridge and started walking again, straight down the middle of the tracks.

"Good." Finn dropped back behind Aiden again. "You'll learn to ignore them. It takes practice."

The bridge spanned a small river. Teagan stopped to listen for trains before she started across. The cats yowled, hissed, and spat behind them, but couldn't follow them over the bridge.

"You think we've lost them?" Teagan asked when they reached the other side.

"Nee-oooowww!" Maggot Cat launched himself into the air, dropping and splashing into the river, then flailing wildly to keep his head up, fighting against the current that dragged him downstream. The other cats followed, leaping off of the bank like lemmings, churning through the water.

"It will slow them down a bit," Finn said. "Some of them might drown if we're lucky."

They walked for a half an hour in peace before Teagan heard the yowling start again. The cats were coming. What were the chances they would walk thirty miles without ever having to get off the tracks to let a train pass? And when they did—

She heard a clacking behind them and glanced over her shoulder. A railway maintenance truck was coming down the tracks. It passed the cats without slowing down. Of course, the driver couldn't see the goblins.

"Finn," Teagan said, "we have company."

"Step off and let him pass before the cats get here," Finn said.

They stepped off of the tracks, but the truck didn't pass. It stopped. The driver opened the door. His red-blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and pale blue eyes peered out through round glasses.

"What are you kids doing on the tracks?"

"Walking." Finn studied him. "We're in a bit of a hurry."

The cats were running now, covering the distance quickly—too quickly.

"They're coming, Tea!" Aiden grabbed a stick and held it like a bat.

The driver turned and looked back down the tracks. He scratched his head.

"You want a lift?"

"Yeah," Finn said. "Thanks."

"Lose the stick, kid," the driver said. "You guys can ride with me in the cab." Teagan climbed in quickly. Finn lifted Aiden in, and she pulled him onto her lap. Finn took the window seat.

"Name's Raynor," the driver said as Teagan watched the
cat-sídhe
disappear in the rearview mirror. "Raynor Schein."

Aiden squinted at him.

"'Rain or shine'?"

"That's the way it sounds." Raynor nodded. "But not the way it's spelled." He showed Aiden his badge.

Aiden studied the letters, and then the man's face. "I can't read. What did you eat for dinner last night?"

"Me?" Raynor said. "Pizza."

"Did you find it in a Dumpster?"

Teagan pinched him, and he whirled to look at her.

Don't
talk about that,
she signed. All they needed was for Aiden to tell this guy they'd slept in a ditch and eaten from a Dumpster. He'd have cops waiting for them in Gary.

Why
not?
Aiden signed.

Teagan tipped her chin down and tried the Look. She'd been practicing for months but it still wasn't as good as her mother's had been.

Aiden glared back at her, but he sat still.

"So, Mr. Schein..." Teagan started.

"Raynor." He smiled at her. "I'm not anybody's mister. Just a fellow doing his job."

"What is your job?" Aiden asked. Teagan nodded. That seemed innocuous enough.

"Keeping folks safe. Today I'm making sure the tracks are free of obstacles. Where are you kids going?"

"My grandma's house," Aiden said. Teagan glanced at Finn, but he only shrugged. Aiden grilled Raynor about how the truck ran on the tracks, and whether or not they could outrun a train.

When they arrived at the station in Gary, Raynor said, "You kids have an address for that granny? This is the end of my run. Just let me turn in my keys, and I'll give you a ride."

"That would be great," Finn said. "Thanks."

"You really think it's okay?" Teagan asked Finn as they waited.

"I think so," Aiden said.

"I agree with the boyo. There's something odd about that one, but he's no goblin. And I'm all for getting to Mamieo's faster."

Raynor came bounding back across the railyard.

"Now"—he rubbed his hands together—"you get to meet Brynhild." He led them across the parking lot to an antique truck. It looked like it could star in a car show, bright red and polished until it almost glowed. The slightly flattened top of the headlights and the chrome grille grimace gave it a decidedly determined look.

"She's a 'fifty-seven Chevy," Raynor said. "They just don't make them like this anymore." He wiped a speck of dust from the hood with his shirtsleeve. "Three fifty engine, upsized high-draft four barrel ... Want a peek under the hood?"

"We're in a bit of a hurry," Teagan said. Raynor looked so disappointed that she added, "Did you restore it yourself ?"

"Every inch," Raynor said, pulling the door open. "Finished the upholstery and the paint job this summer." The beige and black interior had a distinctly new-car smell.

"The only thing that's not original is the sound system," Raynor said. "Some things have improved in the last sixty years. Play artist The Doors, Brynhild." "Riders on the Storm" sang through hidden speakers.

"I know that song," Aiden said. "I don't like the part about the killer on the road."

"Neither do I." Raynor laughed. "Morrison was seeing things that nobody else could see, I guess."

"He was?" Aiden looked worried.

Raynor nodded. "That's what the 'killer on the road ... brain squirming like a toad' bit is about. It happened when he was a little kid, on a road trip across New Mexico with his folks. He saw a family of Indians on the road, dead from a terrible bloody accident. No one else remembered seeing it. Not his mom or dad or sister, and there was no record of the incident with the police."

"Or maybe they gave the bad guy a ride," Aiden said, "and he stuck his hands in their head and made them forget."

"It messed the kid up for life, whatever happened," Raynor said. "The rest of the song is good, though. 'Gotta love your man.'" He winked at Teagan. "Love is what it's all about."

Aiden and Raynor sang along with the sound system, and Finn shouted directions over the choruses.

They pulled into a dilapidated drive-in theater. The screen was sagging and no longer white. Some of the speaker poles were bent, and others broken off. Finn pointed toward the back of the lot.

"There it is," he said. "The Tank."

It was the oldest motor home Teagan had ever seen. The bumper was dented and it seemed to be held on by baling wire. Rust stains flowed from the corners of the barred windows.

"Thanks for the lift." Finn opened his door and slid out.

"Any time," Raynor said as Finn lifted Aiden out.

"Bye, freegan!" Aiden waved as Teagan hopped out and carefully shut Brynhild's polished door.

"Bye, Aiden." Raynor waved back. "It was good seeing you again." The truck pulled away.

"Again?" Teagan said. "You knew him?"

"I was going to tell you," Aiden said. "But you
looked
at me. He was the freegan from the alley."

"Who?" Finn asked.

"The day you got beat up," Aiden said. "He drove up the alley, remember? He's fixed up his truck now."

"But—"

"Finn!"

Teagan turned to find a tiny old woman in the motor home door.

She was wearing bright pink lipstick, and her hair was a perfect puff of white, pulled into a thin bun on top of her head and capped with lace. Her eyes were green glass beads, sharp and young despite her wrinkled face.

"Finn Mac Cumhaill," she said, "what have you done this time?"

"Mamieo"—Finn pulled off his bandanna respectfully—"I've brought Tea and Aiden."

MAMIEO looked Finn over, head to foot. She shook her head. "Which part of 'bring Aileen's mortal remains' did you not understand?"

Finn folded his arms. "The part where they were scattered in the park," he said. "Making them difficult to gather."

The old woman turned to Teagan and Aiden, and her expression softened.

"It's sorry I was to hear about your dear
máthair.
" She came down the steps and took Teagan's hand. Up close she was even tinier than Teagan had thought, but her grip was strong. "I loved Aileen like my own child. Though why my grandson is dragging you across the countryside ... shank's mare, by the look of it, I don't know."

"There's reason, Mamieo," Finn said. "The Highborn Sídhe are walking."

"May the Almighty be with us"—the old woman crossed herself—"and smite dead those who stand against us! Do you know this for certain?"

"One came into the Wylltsons' house," Finn said. "He carried John Wylltson away. We followed him to Mag Mell—"

"You did
what?
" Mamieo pressed her hand to her heart.

"We went to Mag Mell," Aiden said. "But we couldn't find Dad."

Mamieo swayed, and gripped Teagan's shoulder. "I need my nitro." Finn took the old woman's elbow and helped her up the steps.

"Come on, then," he said, and Teagan and Aiden followed them into the motor home. Inside, it looked like an Irish cottage, with lace curtains on the windows and a crisp doily on a small table. There was a bookcase that held every book Aileen Wylltson had ever written, and an ancient Bible under a crucifix on the wall.

Finn helped Mamieo to a seat at the table. She fumbled with a basket of pills, picked up a bottle, and held it at arm's length.

"Lord, would it be too difficult to make my arms longer, or my eyes sharper?"

"You could just wear your reading glasses on a loop about your neck," Finn said, "and let the Almighty worry about more important things."

"More important? Pha." Mamieo snorted.

"Let me help you." Teagan picked out the nitroglycerin bottle and opened it for the old woman.

"Thank you, dearie." Mamieo shook out a pill, put it under her tongue, and leaned back, eyes closed.

"That'll give her heart a jump." Finn sounded a little worried. "She'll be fine in a minute or two."

"And why wouldn't my heart need a jump?" She sat up, green eyes flashing. "Those that go to Mag Mell don't come back again, Finn Mac Cumhaill! And me that frail, that I couldn't come after you if I was needed!"

"Tea, Mamieo?" Finn asked.

"Of course we need tea!"

Finn took the kettle from the stovetop, filled it, and put it on the burner.

"Sit down, Aiden," Mamieo said, "and stop fidgeting."

Teagan lifted Aiden onto the bench seat. He scooted over to make room for her, then fixed his eyes on Mamieo.

"You're really wrinkled," he said.

"And you're a wee green pratie," Mamieo shot back. "Now—tell me everything."

Teagan started with the shadow touching her mother.

"And you saw this shadow, pratie?"

Aiden nodded.

"My poor Aileen," Mamieo said. "After all that time, the damn things came for her."

"There's a
cat-sídhe
out there." Aiden had scooted over to the window. "It's jumping up and down and looking in." A face appeared in the window, disappeared, then appeared again, like a fuzzy bouncing ball with ears.

"Draw the lace and ignore the beastie." Mamieo reached over, pulled the curtain shut, and adjusted the ruffle. "They're always about, keeping an eye on me."

"Why can we see them?" Teagan asked.

"It's the second sight, of course. And doesn't it mean your own
máthair
was of the blood?"

"You mean Traveler blood?"

"Of course I do, dearie." Mamieo looked very pleased about it. "Considering how she was found, it's not too surprising. How much have you told them, Finn?"

"I told them about the Fir Bolg and the coming of the Sídhe to Éireann and Mag Mell." Finn put a bowl of sugar on the table. "And how the Milesians came at last."

"They'll need to know more than that," Mamieo said. "Fetch some biscuits. The pratie looks hungry."

"Yes, Mamieo." Finn pulled a tin of shortbread from the cabinet. Mamieo moved the salt- and peppershakers to the pill basket and pushed it to the back of the table to make room for the tin. Finn sat down beside her.

"In the time before time," Mamieo began, "when the Almighty sang many worlds into being, he laid them side-by-side, all unaware of one another—"

"The multiverse?" Teagan took a shortbread cookie.

"The what?" Mamieo asked.

"The multiverse," Teagan said. "A hypothetical set of all possible universes. It includes everything that physically exists. Space, time, all forms of matter, energy"—they were all looking at her blankly—"parallel worlds, alternate realities?"

Mamieo glanced at Finn.