Sharp edge. Good enough.
“If the Faerie can reach you, we could theoretically pass her hand or arm into your realm,” Ms. Lewis said. “A tight fit, but if we broke the hand first…”
“No,” I said. “Sorry, Rose, but no.”
“I don’t- I don’t want to. I’m bothered we’re even talking about this. I didn’t think I’d have to do something.”
“S’alright,” I mumbled. I squatted beside the fallen Faerie.
“What are you thinking, Mr. Thorburn?”
“I’m thinking we give her back. Is it doable?”
“It is. Invoke the duel, make an argument, give off the right impression, a degree of fear…”
“Maybe,” I said. “If it’s alright, can I use you to scare them? I’m kind of done with that for right now.”
“As you wish.”
I nodded. I reached down and cut away a lock of hair, then jammed it into my back pocket. I tossed the piece of broken sword aside.
“Hey, Faerie. If you’re paying any attention, turn into a bird, and I’ll see about giving you back.”
There was a long pause.
A broken flutter of wings, and the Other was a chickadee.
I picked her up as gently as I could. I headed for the exit, stopping to get the hatchet and stowing it away in my jacket.
“Sorry, June,” I murmured. “Thanks for the distraction.”
As I passed the line I’d drawn at the top of the stairs, I could feel connections unfolding around me. Not between me and the practitioners, but between me and everyone else in the building.
A door slammed somewhere. I could hear footsteps.
I used the Faerie’s blood to break the connection and buy myself time.
Emerging outside, I headed to the end of the alley. I had to break more connections that were attaching to me from every direction.
Two girls. One eleven or twelve or so, was sitting on the car hood, bundled up in a winter jacket, hat and blanket.
The other, twenty, was leaning against the driver’s side door. Smoking. But for the age gap, they were very similar in appearance.
They recognized me, and the older one stepped away from the car. A canary sat on her shoulder, spreading it’s wings.
“Letita!” the younger girl called out. Recognizing her familiar. She moved the blanket. What the fuck was she wearing? Shiny skintight leggings?
I could see the fear in her expression. Her hands clutched a golden plate that had been sitting in her lap.
No. A small shield? What did you call a shield like that? Her implement.
She’d barely hit puberty, and she already had an implement and a familiar?
The older one didn’t attack. She was staring at me.
“We dueled,” I said. My voice sounded a little hoarse. I wondered if I’d fall again here. “Your… Letita and I did. I won, I took my prize.”
“And?” the older girl asked. “My turn?”
She didn’t look eager. But she looked like she might be willing.
“It could be,” I said, but I raised my good hand, to stop her before she could do anything. “But I want you to know two things, before you make that judgement call.”
“What two things?”
“First off, this woman with me is one of my grandmother’s lawyers. She’s staying hands off, but she probably will intervene if it comes down to it. She would have, if Letita here had taken the upper hand. You get my meaning?”
“I felt something,” the little one said. “Building up in fits and starts.”
“I called out a name,” I said. “Letita might tell you that. Six times out of the seven times I needed.”
“It felt bad,” she said. Her eyes didn’t leave Letita.
“I’m telling you right now. I had no intention of saying the name the seventh time. I so swear. I only needed to push Letita to act, use her impatience against her.”
The two nodded.
“The second thing I want you to know, is that we had every right to challenge her two more times and take two more prizes. We didn’t. We fought, I won, and I took what I’d earned. Now, if you’ll allow me…” I said. I very slowly approached. I extended my hand, the little bird inside. “…I’m giving her back.”
Once she took the Other from my hand, I backed away.
“You didn’t have to do that,” the older girl said.
I ignored her. “Now, my question is, are you going to cause me more fucking problems, or are you going to let me get on with my day?”
“We were told to stop you,” the little girl said. “You’re dangerous. You don’t even realize how dangerous you all are. We’re supposed to do anything and everything we can.”
“Hush, Joanna,” the older girl said.
“Well?” I asked.
“I should give my life to stop you,” the girl said. “Joanna doesn’t know everything, but she’s essentially right.”
“I’m not talking about the past, or any of that,” I said. “I’m talking about this, right here, right now. Are we going to have a problem? Do I need to handle you so I can deal with your family too?”
Somehow?
I must have looked less threatening than I had since I was little Joanna’s height. Haggard, swaying on my feet, a little roughed up and dusty, hair a mess.
She reached into her pocket, and I tightened my grip on my hatchet. On June.
She retrieved a phone. She dialed and raised it to her ear.
“Mom?”
A pause.
“I know. I see them. But look at where he is. He’s right in front of me and Jo right now.”
Another pause.
The connections around me were filling with power. A spider web of interactions, waiting for something to start drawing the snare inward.
“Let him go, mom. Tell Auntie to pass on the message to the cousins as well.”
“Thank you,” I said.
She raised a hand, one finger extended.
“I’ll explain later,” she said.
Another pause.
“No, you won’t like the explanation. Call it a favor to me. Call it- fuck, mom, listen- mom!”
Another pause. She shut her eyes in frustration. Her breath billowed out in a white fog as she sighed.
“Mom! Fine! Stop- stop and listen, don’t call it a favor, then. Call it a repayment of the favor you owe me for taking Jo to her six-in-the-damn-morning dance lessons for the last half a year.”
I could hear her mother’s voice this time, faintly emerging from the phone, three paces away from me.
“Yes mom, I know that means I can’t whine about having to take her anymore.”
“I need to get back home before Ms. Lewis’ break ends,” I said.
“No, I don’t think that hell on earth is balanced out by six months of early morning car trips and boring waits in the gym. But maybe ask me in half an hour. Unless you want to take her today? Since you already happen to be up?”
She smiled a little, as her mother responded, then hung up. Her cheeks were flushed red with victory and the cold as she looked me in the eye. “We’re even.”
“Thank you,” I said, again. Weren’t thank-yous dangerous? Or was that just with barber demons?
“I’m Penelope, by the way,” she said. “My friends and family call me Penny.”
I felt something wet on my lip. I thought it was maybe a snowflake, but when I rubbed it off, my finger came away crimson.