Chili Pepper stared at Law in confusion. “Let?”
“Rent. Stay. Sleep.”
“Oh! No. She wanted to join their household. It’s a totally different thing than staying for a short period. No one wants someone from Water Clan. I have no idea why she came all this way without some guarantee that someone would take her.”
They’d unloaded both the trout and the seasi. It totaled up to two hundred and eighty-one pounds of fish. Hopefully the sekasha loved fish because they were going to be eating a lot of it. Chili Pepper lifted the lid to the crayfish and considered them. “Will you bring more, early Startup?”
“Yes! Certainly!” Law cried, wanting to keep her promise to Poppymeadow. As it was, she was going to disappoint Ginger Wine.
Chili Pepper closed the lid. He considered the front of the pickup. “My lord had business out at the aeroport.” He meant the airport that was nearly an hour away. “I do not know when he will return. Will you keep her safe?” In other words: I still don’t want the kitten, don’t you dare leave her here.
“Of course.”
“And I can’t have the porcupine?”
“No!”
Law sold the crayfish to Poppymeadow. Much to her relief, she remembered that she had four giant snapping turtles tucked way in the back, confined to makeshift cages made out of milk crates and chicken wire. Those she sold to Ginger Wine to keep her promise of “water produce,” as the elves called seafood.
Bare Snow stayed hidden in the pickup, watching, learning God-knows-what since most of Law’s dealing was a mishmash of English and Elvish.
Traffic was starting to grow heavy as the people returning to Earth rushed through the last-minute errands. She fought her way into Hershel’s Exxon on Forbes Avenue, Oakland’s only gas station.
During a normal, non-Shutdown day, only two of the pumps were usually in use at the same time. There was a waiting line for all twelve pumps. A frat boy in a Smart car tried to dart in and take the pump she’d been waiting for. She laid on her horn and edged her prehistoric Dodge forward until her grill protector filled his back window.
“Hoi!” She leaned out the window to shout at him. “If you want to use that car to get out of Pittsburgh, you better move it! Your little thing won’t even scratch my grill!”
His frat brother beat on his shoulder going, “Dude, what are you doing? The locals are insane! Let him use the pump first!”
They retreated to the other side of the station. Law made sure everything on her truck was locked down and then went inside to pay. It was the other drawback of Oakland. Everywhere else in town, you could pump first. Oakland had too many transients for Hershel’s to risk not getting cash up front.
Bare Snow had followed her into the store and was now picking up things randomly and eyeing them closely. All the male eyes were on her. The baby-doll dress showed off as much as it covered up—especially when the female bent at the hip to take things off the bottom shelf. Much as Law appreciated the view, she was going to have to get something longer for the female. (Law had shirts longer than Bare Snow’s dress.)
Pat Hershel was working the register. “You’ve got another stray, Law? An elf this time?”
“Yup.”
“Don’t go forgetting you’re just a girl yourself.”
“What does that mean?”
“One of these times you’re going to bite off more than you can chew. You should be more careful.”
Law clenched her jaw against the first dozen things that came to mind. Pat meant well but she was like most people—they only helped people when it was easy and convenient. As soon as things got messy—usually when the girl was on the verge of drowning in her trouble—they’d back off and let nature take its course. Which was fine and good for them, but why did they always feel like they had to warn her off too? Why were people more concerned about status quo than actually helping?
“I’m filling up both my tanks.” Law peeled off twenties she earned from the enclaves. Elves traded gold among themselves, but they took in US currency from their human customers and cycled them back to Law. “And obviously I need some clothes. Shoes. A dress. You got any in the back?”
“Maybe.” The gas station also served as sort of a general store for the transients. Hershel’s had a tiny assortment of basic necessities to tide newcomers over until they figured out where the real stores were. “The kids tend to take anything that says ‘Pittsburgh’ or ‘Elfhome’ back with them as souvenirs. We’re normally picked clean by end of Shutdown.”
That explained their stock. It had mystified Law why all their clothes had writing like “Elfhome: Nailed it” and “Saw a Saurus, Ate it!” Unlike other stores, they also only carried local snacks and drinks. Iron City Beer. Saurus jerky. Steel City Cola. Honey roasted keva beans. Because everything was locally produced, they were usually well stocked.
Pat had called it correctly, though. The shelves looked like locusts had descended. But they were in luck. There was a pair of cowboy boots that fit Bare Snow. Not one of Law’s first dozen choices for footwear but Bare Snow seemed to like them. There was also a Wind Clan blue sundress with Elvish runes spelling out something Law couldn’t read. Bare Snow snickered at whatever it said. The sundress was only a few inches longer than the white baby-doll, but they were important inches.
Pat added two slim packs of Juicy Fruit gum to Law’s tab. “I was holding those for Stormsong but they tell me she’s on Earth with the husepavua.”
Bare Snow caught the one Elvish word in the mix. “What about the husepavua?”
Pat switched to Elvish as she rung up their purchases. “The viceroy is in town because his husepavua is on Earth with one Hand of sekasha. Normally I keep this aside for the holy one, Singing Storm Wind, but she’s with the husepavua. You can have the gum.”
“Who else is with her?” Bare Snow asked.
Pat clicked her tongue, having lived next to elves long enough to pick up their habits. “I only know the young ones that drive the automobiles. The older elves can’t wrap their brains around how to work machines. The ‘babies’ bring the viceroy’s automobiles here for fuel. Stormsong. Cloudwalker. Hawk Scream. Pony. Sun Lance. Oh! I know! Sparrow took Wraith Arrow too.”
Bare Snow distracted the conversation away by picking up the gum. “What is this?”
Law showed her how to unwrap a stick and chew on it.
Bare Snow’s eyes widened and she gave out a moan that sounded orgasmic. All the males in the store drifted closer.
Pat laughed. “Good luck with that, Law.”
“Yeah, thanks, Pat. Can we have the restroom key?”
Law pumped gas while Bare Snow changed clothes in the restroom alone. The elf returned with a wide-brim hat that she’d gotten from someplace. Law could only hope she didn’t steal it. With the skimpy blue sundress, the long bare legs and the cowboy boots, she looked utterly adorable. The color of the sundress highlighted the blue of her hair.
A white Ford Explorer at the far pumps caught Bare Snow’s attention. One would think that there was no way anyone could miss a gorgeous leggy elf, but the four coeds who arrived in the vehicle never seemed to notice Bare Snow drift about the SUV, peering in the windows.
The female elf scanned the lot while returning to Law’s Dodge. “Your vehicle is very different from all the others.”
“It’s…it’s very old.” In theory the 1947 Power Wagon was nearly a hundred years old, but in truth, every nut and bolt been had been restored or upgraded by her grandfather as he converted the antique truck. It had been his pride and joy and he was probably spinning in his grave that she ended up with it. The simple truth was no one else wanted a manual-transmission gas hog. Both of her parents wanted her to sell it for something more practical; it was the one thing that they agreed on. That and that she should get a dog. (Weirdly her father was fine with her dating girls.)