Bigfootloose and Finn Fancy Free (54 page)

Sleep sounded like a fine idea. Perhaps I'd take the next week off. In bed.

With Dawn.

 

Epilogue

I watched the morning fog swirling and pooling in the low bowl-like areas that dotted Evergreen Cemetery. Dark, moss-covered crosses, headstones, and statues stood worn and cracked by time and weather and the occasional teenage idiot. They rose out of the mist like promises, and stood upon the grassy hilltops like judgments. I glanced back occasionally to the largest and most famous of the cemetery's crypts, a large stone-gray ziggurat called the Rucker Tomb. My family and Vee had already entered the ARC Crypt hidden beneath it for the interment of Vee's brother, Zeke. Three months the ARC had held his body as they investigated the aftermath of Grayson's plot and our actions in response, but at last he was being interred with honor. I looked again at the text from Dawn, short and to the point:
I'll meet you at Evergreen
. The only words I'd had from her since her show last night.

“Gramaraye,” a munchkin voice declared. I turned to find Priapus marching toward me. He held out a folded piece of parchment. “For you.”

“Perfect timing. Thank you, Priapus.” I took the parchment. “Any progress on finding out who destroyed your records?”

“Got my suspicions,” he said. “And I ain't liking where it's leading. But if I find out something worth something, don't worry, I'll let ya know.”

“Uh huh. And I'm sure you'll also let me know how much it'll cost for you to share the info, right?”

“Ha!” Priapus said. “Seems like you're finally wising up, kid. Watch your back.” He turned, and quickly disappeared back into the mist.

“Beautiful morning,” Heather said behind me.

I jumped, and turned to find her standing behind me. At least she wasn't pointing a squirt gun at me.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked. I doubted she'd come to turn herself in to the enforcers who were present for Zeke's interment, and that would be in bad taste anyway, given her involvement with his death.

“I came to say good-bye. At least for a while,” she replied. “I tried to catch you at home, but you'd already left.”

There was something different about her. She looked … healthy. Almost younger.

“You look better,” I said. “Trade some of that mana drug of yours for a health potion?”

Heather sighed. “No. I had Garl bite me.”

*Damn,* Alynon said. *She could have asked
me
to bite her.*

“What?” I was certain I'd heard her wrong.

“I've decided to join the brightbloods. I figured out the cure for the mana drug. You didn't tell me Silene had brightlilies; I thought they were extinct.”

“It, uh, sorry?”

“We're spreading the word on how to make the cure, along with sharing the brightlily seeds. And I thought I might be able to help the brightbloods with their other problems, try to make up for what I did to them.”

“You told them what you did?”

“No. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't, either.”

I frowned. “You could have helped them without becoming a brightblood yourself, you know.”

“I couldn't help anyone from exile,” she replied. “It was either a life in exile, or life as a brightblood pledged to the Silver. I'll be protected from ARC retaliation—well, as much as any brightblood is. More importantly, I'll have a second chance. A new life, literally.”

I shook my head. “Well, you always wanted to get out from under the ARC. But I never thought you'd go this far.”

“Me either,” she said, and rubbed at her arm. “But I was tired of running. I was out of options. And Silene's cause seems like one worth fighting for. Besides, and don't laugh, but I think I've always felt like I'd fit in with the brightbloods.”

I laughed.

“Hey!” she said, and playfully shook a fist at me.

I waved my hand in apology. “Sorry. Well, I'm happy for you, I guess?” I said.

The truth was, I
had
hoped that she would choose to help the brightbloods if confronted with the real effects of her drug. I'd hoped that the Heather I remembered, the young woman who wanted to not just break free of the ARC's control but also to make the world a better place, that she was still there underneath all the bitterness and self-preservation.

But becoming a waerbear?

“Yeah yeah,” she said. “I'm sure you're thrilled.”

“What? No. I mean, I'm glad you're going to help, sure, but—”

“Uh huh. Whatever. I just wanted to say thank you. I think this is going to be a good thing.”

“I hope so,” I said, then remembered why I was standing there. “Look, uh, Dawn's supposed to be meeting me here, and—”

“I know. She's coming, I can smell her.” Heather smiled. “Something I'm still getting used to. Like I said, I just wanted to say good-bye, and thanks. And let you know you didn't make a mistake, giving me a second chance.”

“I'm glad, for both of us,” I said. “I hope I'll see you around.”

“Me too. Under better circumstances.” Heather turned and headed for the trees that surrounded the cemetery, disappearing back into the mists.

Dawn appeared over the nearby hill a minute later, wearing black slacks and a jacket.

I immediately moved to meet her, my leg stiff in its Ace bandage wrapping, and gave her a hug.

“Hey,” I said. “I'm glad you could make it.”

She moaned and put one hand to her head. “I feel like I drank All the Wine,” she replied.

“Wow, a rock star for one day and you're already becoming a stereotype,” I said.

She punched me in the arm, gently at least this time. “Sit and spin, Ralph. Come on, let's go say good-bye to the big guy.”

We held hands and strolled up to The Rucker Tomb.

*I just realized, I could slap her butt right now,* Alynon said.

Do it, and I'll play “We Didn't Start the Fire” nonstop for the rest of the week.

*Ha! I'll just shut it off.*

And pass out from the effort.

*You say pass out, I say nap and come back ready to slap more butts!*

Fine. I'll sing it then.

*I'll hold your jaw closed.*

This was going to get old. Real fast.

The trip through the fairy path had obviously strengthened the bond between us, somehow. But I still preferred to think it was mostly my love for Dawn that had saved me from mutation and madness, not an annoying Fey spirit in my brain. Call me sentimental.

We reached The Rucker Tomb. The gray ziggurat sat upon a raised concrete platform, and the front entrance was reached by stairs that passed between two man-sized stone pylons. I placed my persona ring against a pylon, and said, “
Aperire Ostium Per Mea Ius Ex Necromantiae.
”

There was a moment's pause, then a voice came from within the stone, “Phinaeus Gramaraye, you may enter.”

The stone stairs receded from us, revealing a second set of stairs that led down into an underground passage. Dawn and I entered in silence, holding hands.

We made our way along the passages, lined with the magically preserved bodies of dead arcana dressed in their favorite outfits and posed with items and artifacts that spoke to their magical gifts and personal interests. We finally reached the interment room where new bodies were displayed in a ceremony before being moved to their permanent spots. A stone-walled room about the size of a school gym, it had heavy oak tables spaced around the edge with various snack foods and drink options, and a dais at the far end on which Zeke's display stood.

Zekiel Wodenson stood smiling in his
Miami Vice
outfit of white jacket and slacks and blue T-shirt. His thinning blond hair had been shaved in a Mr. T–style mohawk, and his enforcer-style Fu Manchu moustache had been braided with silver beads, showing that the enforcers had decided to restore his enforcer status posthumously. In one hand he held a collapsing baton, and in the other what looked like a miniature armchair.

A small crowd of arcana had gathered before the display: Reggie and several other enforcers; a number of men and women I didn't recognize; and my family. Sammy, Fatima, and Mattie stood near a snack table. Pete and Vee stood before Zeke's display, Vee accepting condolences and hearing the stories and jokes about Zeke as his life was celebrated. Father stood with Verna, apparently trying to explain something to her by demonstrating the difference between how a grape versus an olive rolled off of his nose. Only Mort was absent, being too ill, and ill-tempered, after Brianne's exorcism.

An ancient-looking man in a black suit, who I'd have taken even odds on whether he worked there or was simply an animated corpse, stepped up and offered us both cloth handkerchiefs. “People always cry at these things,” he said with a smile.

“Thank you,” Dawn and I both replied.

The old man nodded, and walked past us.

Dawn started in Vee's direction, pulling me along, but I let her hand go and said, “I need just a minute.”

Dawn gave me a look that said she understood, then quickly walked away.

I grabbed a piece of celery with peanut butter in order to appear busy.

Reggie spotted me, and came over. My palms grew sweaty, but I reminded myself that if he or anyone had found out I'd performed dark necromancy, I'd already be in custody.

*You should have destroyed Kaminari's spirit,* Alynon said.

I ignored him. I'd buried the spirit trap, unable to bring myself to destroy another spirit so soon, not even one as damaged as Kaminari's.

“Finn,” Reggie said, and gave a nod. “Seems things have settled down between the Silver and the Shadows.”

“I guess,” I replied, trying to act normal. Which made me self-conscious and certain that I was acting suspiciously. “But we, uh, still don't know who's playing them against each other.”

“Yeah. Well, just watch yourself. Whoever the puppet masters are, they may decide to come looking for the necromancer who threw a monkey wrench in their plans.”

I sighed. “I'm not sure I did much to upset their plans. I have a feeling the Silver and Shadows aren't exactly going to hug and be friends.”

“Well, as far as I'm concerned, you did some good.” He slapped me on the back. “And did Zeke's memory proud. And, let's face it, your family name needed a bit of polishing.”

I gave him a weak smile. “Yeah.” I nodded to Zeke. “He looks good.”

Reggie looked toward Zeke, and his eyes teared up a bit as he said, “Yeah, he always did.” He cleared his throat. “I got a ton of paperwork to fill out on all your shenanigans, so I'll be in touch.”

He left to rejoin the other enforcers.

Vincent strolled into the room, dressed in his official enforcer suit and tie. He stopped, and pulled a folded piece of parchment from inside his jacket as if to reassure himself it was there, then put it back away.

I moved to intercept him, but not before Pete and Vee spotted him as well.

“Hello, Knight-Lieutenant,” I said as Pete and Vee made their way toward us. “You didn't seriously come here to demand Pete and Vee's declaration of loyalty at her brother's interment, did you?”

Vincent gave me his best stoic enforcer stare. All he lacked was mirrored shades. “They had three days to give an answer, and they did not. They chose to push this matter, not me. I tried to warn you, Gramaraye. Now they are to be declared rogue and there's nothing you, or I, can do about it. The best I can do is wait to serve them their papers as they leave. Out of respect for Mister Wodenson.”

“You mean Enforcer Wodenson.”

Vincent waited just a beat before saying, “Of course.”

Pete and Vee arrived.

“Well, as it so happens, I have something for you,” I said, and produced my own piece of parchment. “Delivered just this morning by our friendly neighborhood gnomes.”

Vincent's eyes narrowed, and he made no move to take the parchment. “What is it?”

I smiled at Pete and Vee. “This officially declares my brother and Vee to be Vice-Archons of the Silver Court.”

“What?” Pete said, surprised. Vee's eyes widened.

“
Vice
-Archons?” Vincent said, and took the parchment. He read over it. “The Archons haven't used subordinates for hundreds of years.”

“What does this mean?” Pete asked, frowning.

“How did you do this?” Vee asked.

“Yeah, Gramaraye,” Vincent asked, looking up. “What did you have to promise the Fey for this? Or are you and that Fey in your head just working together now?”

“Nothing, and no. I'm still a loyal arcana, Knight-Lieutenant. But I did help to save the Silver Court and their brightbloods both—and helped the ARC, too, by the way—and so they saw fit to grant my request in return.”

*I still cannot believe Oshun agreed to your request, whatever small favor you had done us.*

Maybe your kin in the Silver Court are not as unreasonable as you think.

*Wait until you've lived with them a hundred years, then say that.*

Vincent's mouth puckered to the side for a second, then he gave a slight shrug, and handed the parchment back to me. “They've declared their loyalty, and that's what is important. Congratulations. Truly.” He turned to Vee. “And my condolences and respect for your brother.”

“Thanks,” Vee said, graciously.

“Have a cookie, they're good,” Pete said, waving at the nearest food table.

“Excuse us,” Vee said. “I need to speak to the crowd now.”

“Please,” Vincent said, waving toward the stage.

I gave Vee a hug. “Don't be nervous. You'll do fine.”

“I know. I have Pete and Sarah to help me if I forget something.”

I patted Pete on the back, and he and Vee made their way up onto the stage.