Bigfootloose and Finn Fancy Free

by Randy Henderson

  “Don’t Jew me,” Clay growled. “I could eat your entire family as a light snack, you Dago dwarf.”

  “Woah,” I said quickly as Priapus’s face grew red. “Archon, maybe dial down the insults? And Priapus, I’m sure we can negotiate a fair price. Let’s not forget this information can help all of us, right?”

  “Indeed,” Clay said. “So if you have the information, gnome, I suggest you give it now.”

  “Yeah sure, oh lord of darkness,” Priapus said. “But don’t think I’ll be forgetting this.” He closed his eyes, and held up his hand for us to wait. “Let’s see. Messages. Hiromi. Here we go, bada boom, bada—what in Hades?”

  Priapus scowled, and cocked his head, eyes still closed.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  Priapus opened his eyes, and blinked. “Uh, tell ya what. How about I make ya both a new deal,” Priapus said. “You name it. And I’ll throw in free delivery of messages anywhere you want for the next year. But I can’t give you the name of who sent them messages to the jorōgumo dame.”

  “I suggest you reconsider,” Clay said. “If you are being threatened, I assure you, they are not as dangerous an enemy as I.”

  Priapus’s scowl deepened. “Hey, if I had the info to give ya, you’d get it. But someone, they went and disappeared the information. I ain’t never seen nothing like it.” He shook his head. “It just ain’t right.”

  “Who could have done that?” I asked.

  “That’s what’s got me worried-like,” Priapus said. “It has to be a gnome, someone in my own family. But I got no clue who. What kind of crazy palooka destroys information?” he asked. “Information’s valuable!”

  “What of the gnome who delivered the message?” Clay asked. “May he be questioned?”

  Priapus shook his head. “That’s the kicker. Looks like it was Tiny Tulips Tony, and we just found him yesterday, six inches under a garden townside.”

  “Well, this has been rather disappointing,” Clay said, and gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “You may depart, gnome.”

  “Wait,” I said. “That’s it? There’s got to be something we can do.”

  Priapus shook his tiny head. “Ain’t no fast and easy options. I’m going to have to clean house, and do some digging, and that’s gonna take time. And the sooner I get started, the better.” He turned, and left the room, cracking his knuckles.

  “But—” I said.

  “Well.” Clay stood. “It seems as though you’ve hit the end of your road, so to speak.”

  “Wait,” I said, springing to my feet. “I know we didn’t get a name, but didn’t that show you just how dangerous and serious our common enemy is? Maybe just give me a little more time to discover their identity.”

  “I’m afraid I really can’t keep my girl waiting forever,” Clay said. “Have you ever tried to keep a jorōgumo on a leash? It never ends well for anyone, trust me. Now, unless I’m mistaken, Minerva should be back with your oh-so-dangerous brother now. Shall we?” He motioned to the door.

  It was clear that Clay was done talking. Frustrated, and worried about Pete, I headed out into the hall.

  I heard the high-pitched giggle of the brownies overhead a second before the bucket of ice water splashed down on me.

  I screamed in shock from the cold, slipped, and fell onto my butt.

  “You know,” Clay said behind me. “I’m reconsidering your earlier threats. I see now I have serious reason for concern.”

  I shook off the water from my hands and arms, and prepared to grab Clay’s leg, to test his claim that vampires had no spirit to summon—

  *Think of Petey,* Alynon said. *And everyone else relying on you.*

  I glared up at Clay.

  Fine, I thought back. “You know, for someone with nearly unlimited time and resources, you have a pretty lame idea of jokes.” I stood, and shook the water from my hair.

  “Oh, I save the good stuff for those whom I do not like,” Clay said. “Besides, this is entirely an accident. Clearly Consuela left her bucket laying around. It is so hard to find good help. It seems like anyone affordable is either foreign or ignorant, and quite often both.”

  I marched for the front door. “You know, my grandmother was Mexican.”

  “Really?” Clay asked, following at a casual pace behind me. “Is she good at windows?”

  My hands clenched into fists.

  *Don’t!* Alynon shouted in my head. *You can’t help anyone if you’re dead!*

  “You will die someday,” I said over my shoulder. “And I have a feeling nobody will weep if your spirit is destroyed. By accident, of course.”

  “If I die, it will be long after you are dust,” Clay said as I reached the front door. “And I already told you, I have no soul.”

  “You have a soul,” I replied. “And—”

  The floor gave way beneath my feet, and I dropped down into darkness.

  28

  Wild Thing

  I fell into some kind of tube slide. I slid for what seemed forever, unable to stop myself, the sense of time no doubt drawn out by the fact that I didn’t know if I was being dropped into a pit of spikes or a tub of whipped cream. Either seemed equally possible at that point.

  I slid around a final bend and shot out into the cool night air, slamming into a soft bank of earth and cedar fronds that knocked the wind out of me.

  I stood, shaking from fear, and anger, and cold, and turned around to get my bearings. I saw lights not far off, and headed for them.

  I emerged from the forest on the downhill side of the road to Clay’s estate, just outside the gate. The hearse still sat there, waiting, and Pete stood there as well, wearing his recovered jeans and T-shirt. The jeans must have fallen free during his transformation, but the shirt had clearly not, and hung around him now like a ripped bib. But Pete himself appeared fully intact. Physically anyway; the shame and worry on his face were clear.

  Minerva, with her spiky red hair and the physique of a professional women’s basketball player, stood talking to Pete. Behind her, Waerjerk watched them both with an expression of naked jealousy. Appropriate, since he and Minerva remained actually naked. Well, except for Waerjerk’s ridiculous pirate earring, and a matching ring on Minerva’s—

  “Excellent,” Clay said, appearing out of the shadows near the gate again. “Enjoy your slide, Gramaraye? I assumed you would want to get here as quickly as possible, being worried for your brother and all.”

  “Thanks,” I said through gritted teeth. “Pete? You okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I want to go home.”

  Minerva touched his chest. “But you are home. We are your true family.”

  “I have a family,” Pete said.

  “You have people who happened to be born to the same parents. But you belong with us. You bested Georgio,” she said as she nodded at Waerjerk. “You could be my mate, first mate to the pack leader. We could do so much more than run together.”

  Pete blushed, obviously struggling not to look at her naked body, though she kept moving to where he was looking.

  “Back off,” I said. “This isn’t recruitment for college football. This is his life you’re talking about, and his life is with us. And with the woman he loves. Right, Pete?”

  Pete nodded.

  “Minerva,” Clay said. “Let the nice boy go. He’ll be back, I’m sure.”

  A girl’s angry voice said behind me, “I sent Georgio to seek aid, but find myself betrayed!”

  I turned to find Kaminari, Hiromi’s creepy little sister, looking between me and Clay, her face a mask of fury. Her ponytails twitched and jumped as if alive, and it looked like her ribs were pushing out against the sides of her flowered dress.

  “Kaminari,” Clay said, his tone dangerous. “You will mind your manners as long as these gentlemen are my guests.”

  She began spinning her jump rope around side to side, her eyes all black and fixed on me now. “You helped to kill my sister,” she said. “I’m gonna destr
oy you, mister.”

  She whipped her jump rope at me, and it stretched out, becoming a stream of webbing. I threw up my arms to protect my face.

  Clay blurred. One second he stood beside the gate, the next he stood between me and Kaminari, her web caught in his hand. With a jerk, he yanked it from Kaminari’s grasp, clearly unaffected by its tranquilizing effects.

  “You will obey!” he said. “You shall have your vengeance, but you will do so when and how I say.”

  Kaminari screamed, “No! No no no! I want to kill him NOW! I don’t care about your when and how!”

  Clay sighed. “Very well. You can kill him.”

  “What?” I said, and Kaminari smiled.

  “But,” Clay continued, “if you do so, jorōgumo, I shall kill you after. I’d have to make an example of you, you see. And appease their ARC.”

  Kaminari looked between me, and Clay, and then screamed, tearing at her hair and hitting herself in a wild flurry, and I could tell she was only working herself up to something far worse.

  I felt as terrified as a man facing a tidal wave of blood seconds before it swallows him.

  “KAMINARI!” Clay shouted, his voice echoing through the woods, and his mouth stretched, showing a mouth full of needle-sharp teeth.

  The young girl froze, her eyes wide. Then she began to cry, the pitiful, heart-wrenching sobs of a young girl who is terrified.

  “It is time you left,” Clay said to me. “And face your fate with your Silver friends.”

  Kaminari stopped crying abruptly, and smiled a smile that would have made Nellie Oleson swoon with envy, a smile cruel and bratty and smug all at once.

  “The Elwha are prepared for Kaminari to attack,” I said. “It won’t be like last time. Send her in and she’ll die. A lot of your brightbloods will die.”

  “The Elwha are prepared,” Kaminari imitated me in a mocking tone. “More like they’re scared.”

  I ignored her, and continued. “Sterling Clay, puppet, that’s how history will record you. The fool who killed his own family because someone played him like a little bit—”

  Clay blurred, and stood behind me, brutally squeezing my neck. I screamed in pain. Pete advanced toward us, growling, but Clay gave a no-no-no waggle with a finger of his free hand, and squeezed so that I screamed again. Pete stopped, and Clay’s grip loosened slightly.

  “Manners,” Clay said when I quieted. “No reason to be rude. Now look at my darling Kaminari. How can I deny her vengeance against those we know killed her sister?”

  “But you know that Hiromi—”

  “Yes, yes, it was all a terrible mistake, so sorry but you were tricked into killing her sister. Well, whoever has been manipulating events, my patrons and I shall find them and deal with them in time. But I’m afraid that you have proven of little use in this matter, and Kaminari does have a right to claim vengeance on you, your family, and that tree-bright’s clan. So I’m afraid once you leave my property, I can no longer guarantee your safety.”

  Which meant I would likely be dead before I could reach help, or home. Or that she could instead kill anyone in my family to make me suffer as she had.

  *Demand single combat!* Alynon shouted suddenly in my head. *Say it! Now!*

  “Wha—uh, I demand single combat!” I shouted.

  “Oh my,” Clay said, and released me.

  What did I just do? I asked Alynon.

  *He said Kaminari has a claim of vengeance on you. That gives you the right to demand it be settled in personal combat rather than through clan feud.*

  “Oh yes, oh yes, let us duel!” Kaminari said, grinning. “A mess a mess I’ll make of you!”

  “That was a lousy rhyme,” I said, rubbing at my neck.

  Kaminari screamed, and stepped toward me.

  “STAY!” Clay snapped, and she stopped. “You’ve just agreed to fight a duel, dear girl, you may not harm him until then.” He turned to me. “And if you would please cease provoking Kaminari, it will make everyone’s evening more pleasant.”

  You just got me into a personal duel with a jorōgumo? I shouted mentally at Alynon.

  *Trust me in this. Declare yourself a representative of the Silver, by right of being my host.*

  Why?

  *Just do it! And dare her to accept it.*

  I looked Kaminari in the eyes. “I, uh, declare myself representative of the Silver, by right of being host to Alynon Infedriel, Knight of the Silver Court. I dare you to accept that, you little brat.”

  “Kaminari—” Clay began, his tone warning, but Kaminari hissed.

  “I accept your dare, I accept your declare, it makes no change to how you’ll fare.”

  “Well played, Gramaraye,” Clay said, then sighed. “I am quite fond of my little Kaminari, not to mention darling Minerva. I suppose I should be grateful to you. But alas, you still shall die.”

  “Grateful?” I asked.

  “Indeed,” Clay said. “Kaminari, darling, you just agreed that Gramaraye here shall represent the Silver. That means that he is representing not just himself, but those Silver brightbloods homed at Elwha, including the little tree strumpet. When you kill him, you shall have no further claim of vengeance on her, and I’m afraid I simply cannot let you attack the Silver brightbloods without just claim.”

  “What?” Kaminari screamed. “No no NOOO! Their blood must flow!”

  “Oh dear,” said Clay, looking at me. “You do seem to have a most amazing skill at upsetting her. Kaminari, darling, settle down now.”

  “No no no NO!” Kaminari began beating at herself again.

  Clay sighed. “Kaminari, go up to the house while I conclude business here. I grow weary of your tantrums. Minerva, Georgio, accompany her and see that she gets there.”

  The crying stopped on a dime. “You are so letting him go!” Kaminari hissed.

  “Not that your obedience should require an answer, but I do not make Indian promises, dear heart. Hiromi shall be avenged by the next setting of the sun. If you do not do as I ask, however, you shall be in too much pain to enjoy it.”

  Kaminari glared suspiciously at me, but she turned and leaped over the gate. Spider legs sprang out of her back as she did so, and she landed on them, then skittered with the speed of a cheetah up the road. Minerva and Georgio Waerjerk sprinted after her, leaving Pete and I alone with Clay.

  Clay waved nonchalantly in Kaminari’s direction. “I meant what I said to her. You are going to die tonight. But since Kaminari is the one who claimed vengeance on you, you have the right to choose the method of combat.”

  Great. “I don’t suppose a game of checkers would count?”

  “Alas, no. It must be a physical contest between you.”

  “What about the whole dying tonight thing; I don’t suppose we could really stretch the definition of tonight? Like, maybe, before sunrise?” That would give me time to support Dawn at her show, leave her with a good memory of me at least. “I have a prior engagement, you see—”

  “No, I’m afraid I cannot do that,” Clay said. “The most I can give you is the time it will take for me to arrange the duel. And just so you don’t try to be clever and set it in China or some such nonsense to stretch this out, let’s just say it will be held at the camp near your Elwha friends’ steading, yes?”

  Damn. There went my China plan.

  “But I can pick the method?”

  Clay sighed. “Yes, that is traditionally how it is done, though I must approve.”

  What could I possibly beat Kaminari at? She had more speed and strength than me. I wasn’t an expert at any weapon, and the few I could use competently I imagined she would beat me at, even if she started barehanded. Pistols seemed the most likely to succeed, though I imagined with all her web shooting practice she had pretty deadly aim, whereas I was lucky to hit any target smaller than Godzilla.

  I thought back to the battle with Hiromi. In the end, it had been Silene entangling her in vines that had made the difference.

  “Gramaraye?” Clay
asked.

  “I’m thinking. Hold on.”

  “You cannot claim indecision forever. You must eventually choose, and die.”

  “Yeah yeah. I get it. Just hang on. Please.”

  What kind of weapon could I use to entangle Kaminari’s legs that she couldn’t as easily use to entangle me? A bolo? A rebel snowspeeder?

  “Dance,” I said, and the word registered in my brain after leaving my lips like the sound of a gunshot reaching the target after the bullet.

  “Pardon me,” Clay said. “But I thought you said ‘dance.’”

  *Please, no,* Alynon said. *This is our life. You need to be serious.*

  Hey, dancing is serious, I thought back. “Yeah. We’re going to have a dance-off,” I said. “You know, a Saturday Night Fever fight. Breakin’ 2 Electric Booga–duel. Winner takes all and saves the dance club. Or, you know, clan.”

  Clay arched an eyebrow. “You do realize, of course, that a duel to satisfy vengeance must be to the death, Gramaraye. You cannot have a dance off, or a cook off, or any other kind of off, unless it ends with a head off.”

  “I thought you were all about being civilized,” I said.

  “Indeed. And that is why when you lose your head, I shall discourage Kaminari from killing every person you love. We are not barbarians, after all.”

  “Obviously,” I said.

  *Finn! Damn it! Pick guns, or wands, anything that will give us an actual fighting chance.*

  She’d kill me even faster if we used weapons, I replied. But I’m going to get that girl so twisted up she’ll trip and fall, and it will all be over. Points deducted, head removed, problem solved.

  *You’re a fool.*

  A dancing fool.

  “Very well,” I said to Clay. “Loser loses their head.” Which frankly sounded quite preferable to any of the other ways I saw myself dying in a duel with a jorōgumo, all of them slow and painful and involving seeing parts of me no longer attached to other parts of me. A quick, swift beheading? Wham bam, thank you ma’am. “There can be only one,” I added in my best Christopher Lambert impression.

  And I fully planned to be that one.

  “Excellent,” Clay said. “One moment, please.” He made as if whistling, though I could not hear anything.