by Jean Rabe
All the rest of the day Big Mams kept an eye on her cats. Tiger wandered to the widow-lady’s house and to the old man’s house, but never any farther. Colonel Tom never left the front of the property, and he kept his eyes on the house across the street.
Tiger came back from her investigations as dusk was starting to fall. She waited until Big Mams got out the old iron skillet Old Edna had lent her, then Tiger hopped up onto the stove and coughed up a ball into the skillet.
“Good girl,” Big Mams said as she stroked the cat and heated up the skillet. The hairball wriggled and curled, but the sign it made was a good one. “So, just these three houses are safe,” she murmured. “The widow-lady must have given the old man a horseshoe, too.”
“He’s got a cat,” Junior offered, as he came into the kitchen. “And his cat only goes on his property and ours, since Codger died, anyway.”
She was impressed. “Nice of him to take care of you two.”
“I don’t know if he knows what’s going on,” he said. “If anything is going on. Maybe this is how folks are in the city.”
“Oh, something’s going on,” she told him. “Never think it isn’t. ’Sides, you and Little had this argument already, before you called me to come out. Don’t have it again with me, Junior, or I’ll tell your granny that you’ve become too citified.”
He winced. “No ma’am, I’m not too citified. I just don’t want us doing something we’ll all regret.”
“You leave that to me,” Big Mams reassured. “After all, that’s why you called me out here.”
A dog barked at the back porch. “Barkley wants in,” Junior said as he moved towards the back door.
“Nope,” she told him. “That’s his dinner bark. He’ll eat it outside tonight.”
He nodded and brought the bowl of food she had for Barkley to the dog. The hairball in the iron skillet dissolved. Tiger stretched and meowed. She gave the cat her dinner. Tiger ate, then sauntered to the front door. Big Mams let her out and Colonel Tom in.
Like Tiger had, Colonel Tom jumped up onto the stove. He didn’t hack up anything, but there were burrs on his tail. She carefully pulled them out and put them into the skillet. They jumped and hissed, then they moved, forming letters. “You went over there after dark? You’re a big, brave boy,” she cooed to the cat.
Colonel Tom yawned, to indicate that this was nothing. She chuckled and gave him his dinner. He ate quickly, then jumped down and headed for the front door, meowing loudly. She let him out and watched as Colonel Tom joined Tiger, both sitting in front of the door, watching the house across the street.
A week went by, during which time Big Mams watched and listened and wandered the neighborhood, ostensibly to give Barkley some exercise.
She had to admit that it was nice here. Not as nice as home, but decent enough if you had to be stuck in the city. The neighborhood was old, and that meant the houses weren’t that big, but they had something most of the city lacked—land. The little clutch of homes were set well back from a main road and surrounded by foliage on three sides and the wash on the other. Big Mams could understand why none of the city folk had come to welcome Junior and Little when they’d arrived—the way the neighborhood was arranged, most of the neighbors might not have even known new folks had moved in.
As she and Barkley started out on their late afternoon walk, the old man from next door walked down to meet them. “Staying with your daughter long?” he asked, his voice friendly though it shook a little with age. An orange and white striped cat came and sat by the old man’s feet.
“Don’t rightly know,” she said with a small smile for him and a larger smile for the cat. “Evening, Marmalade.” The cat gave her a friendly purr—cats always liked Big Mams because she always knew their names, whether anyone had told them to her or not.
The old man didn’t comment about this. “Mind if I join you on your constitutional?”
“Don’t see why not,” she said with a nod. “You like it here?” she asked as they started off. Marmalade stayed where she’d been, sitting at the edge of their property line.
“Used to. Don’t really know my neighbors any more.”
“I’ll bet. Must’ve always been a bit hard, what with how this area’s laid out.” The old man didn’t walk as fast as she did, so Big Mams made sure to slow down.
He gave a stiff shrug. “Suppose so. Haven’t thought about it that much.”
She knew he was lying. “Twenty-one homes, all on streets that curve so’s it’s hard for one house to look at too many others. Unusual from all I’ve seen elsewhere.”
“Houses don’t look,” he corrected.
“Sure they do,” she countered genially. “Houses this old have existed too long not to look. They remember what they see, too.”
They wandered, not saying too much more. Barkley spent much time sniffing around each house as they sauntered past. Big Mams could tell he didn’t much care for what he was smelling.
“Thirteenth of the month tomorrow,” she said as they reached the only street that led in and out of the neighborhood.
“Full moon tonight, too. Don’t like full moons much. Folks act odder than normal.”
“Sounds like that would take a lot, around these parts.”
He nodded. “Very true. You might want to stay indoors tonight.”
Big Mams shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
Big Mams walked back with the old man. He hadn’t asked her name or given his, and she’d done the same. She left him at his walk; Marmalade was still sitting there, waiting for him.
“You staying indoors tonight?” she asked.
“Yes. Hope to see you tomorrow,” he added meaningfully.
“Oh, you will.” She gave him a friendly nod and then wandered off. She didn’t go into their own house, but kept on to the next one.
She and Barkley walked up to the front door and she rang the bell. She could hear some quiet noises inside the house, so she knew someone was there. Even without that, Barkley looked expectant, but in a good way.
Longer than it should have taken, the door opened a crack. “Can I help you?” a pleasant voice asked. Pleasant but also apprehensive.
“Just thought I’d come by and be neighborly. I’m Little Mams’ mother.”
“Little Mams?” the woman asked, without the door opening any further.
Big Mams sighed to herself. “Vivien. From next door. Vivien and Charles?”
“Oh!” The door opened wide to reveal a normally attractive woman in her mid-fifties, smaller all around than Big Mams. She gave Big Mams a genuine smile. “Vivien and Charles are such wonderful neighbors. Do come in.”
“Don’t mind if I do. But do you mind Barkley here?”
“Not at all, I love dogs,” the woman replied, honestly as far as Barkley’s reactions were a judge. He gave the widow-lady a pleasant “whuff” and then trotted inside.
“And Barkley doesn’t mind if he does, either,” Big Mams said with a grin as she followed the dog inside.
Barkley took the opportunity to sniff all over the house. Big Mams did her own observations as well. Nothing out of the ordinary, but there were horseshoes over every door and window. She cut to the chase. “What do you think they are?”
The widow-lady looked taken aback. “I think they’re a nice young couple.”
She shook her head. “I’m not talking about Little Mams and Junior. I’m talking about what’s caused you to put old iron up over every single entrance.” She gave the widow-lady a close look. “You give the old man two doors down any horseshoes, too?”
The widow-lady looked like she was going to argue for a moment, then her shoulders slumped. “Yes,” she said quietly. “He has as many as I do. He knows what’s going on, too. Vivien and Charles, though—” Her voice trailed off and she looked worried.
Big Mams chuckled. “They come from a place where we’re used to this sort of thing. That’s why I’m here.”
“To help?” the widow-lady asked hesitant
ly.
“Nope. To stop it. Permanently.”
“They’re stronger than me,” the widow-lady said, looking and sounding very ashamed.
Big Mams patted her on the shoulder. “Only ’cause you’re alone and you’re city-bred. You’ve done a good job. You’ve kept them from what they really want.”
The widow-lady shook her head. “I failed everyone else. There’s only three houses safe any more.”
“Anyone can fight them,” Big Mams reminded her. “Only most folks can’t be bothered to do it.”
“No one else would take my horseshoes,” the widow-lady admitted in a low voice. “I gave them as gifts, too. Some just refused them, saying they didn’t go with their décor. The rest just threw them away. Everyone but your daughter and son-in-law. “
Big Mams sighed. “City folk. What else, really, can you say?”
Night proper fell, Big Mams finally got Junior and Little off to bed, and the house was quiet. She figured that both Junior and Little were sleeping with one ear open, but she’d been firm and they both knew she wanted them to stay out of it.
As it got closer to midnight, she slung her handbag over her left arm, took Old Edna’s old iron skillet in her right, and let herself out the front door as quietly as she could. Both cats were waiting for her, and as she walked down to the sidewalk, Tiger and Colonel Tom came along on either side of her.
She heard a small sound and saw another cat walk up. “Good of you to join us, Marmalade,” she said to the orange and white cat. Marmalade gave her a friendly chirp, rubbed against Tiger and Colonel Tom and then Big Mams.
Big Mams and the three cats crossed the street and reached the other sidewalk just as it turned midnight. The man she’d seen earlier appeared in front of them. He hadn’t been there before and he hadn’t come out of the house or one of the cars in the driveway. He was just now standing on the edge of his property where he hadn’t been before.
She knew he’d done this to startle her, but Big Mams didn’t startle easily. “Evening,” she said, and gave him a small nod.
He didn’t speak, just glared at her, one part of his upper lip quivering like he wanted to pull it up but was stopping himself.
“Nice neighborhood,” she said genially. “Lots of space. Of course, lots more space on the other side of the street, what with the wash and then that little bit of open land just past it. Must seem like a big forest to a city-bred like you.”
The man still didn’t speak, but he lost the struggle with his lip, as it curled up to reveal a long, white fang.
She gave him a friendly smile. “I’ll give you a choice. You can pack your whole tribe up and leave right now, leaving the three houses under Protection and all their occupants alone, or I can take you all out.”
He laughed, or at least what passed with him for a laugh. It was closer to a low growl. “Mine.”
Big Mams shook her head. “Not any more.”
His body started to undulate and change. Instead of a short, chunky human in baggy shorts, there was now a short, slender creature with elongated, pointy features—ears, nose and chin in particular—in a ragged loincloth. All his teeth were pointed as well, though the canines were the longest. His limbs were too long for his body, and his digits were the same. Toenails and fingernails were long and sharp, but even in moonlight Big Mams could see they were also yellowed and dirty. Now that he’d changed, he was also wearing a ring of some dead plants around his head; she was fairly sure it was rag-weed mixed with thistles.
“Mine,” he growled again, his voice higher than when he’d been in human form. He flexed his fingers, threw back his head and howled.
This was the standard opening gambit, but it was now after midnight and Big Mams wasn’t in the mood for dramatics. She swung the old iron skillet with a well-practiced arm and brained him. He went down without another sound, a shocked look on his face. His body burned away to dust.
The rest of them had come out of their dens due to the leader’s call, and they encircled her and the cats. The woman she figured was the dead thing’s mate leaped towards her, changing shape in midair, claws extended and fangs bared by the time she was almost on top of Big Mams.
Big Mams just held up the skillet and let the woman smash her own face into it. She, too, fell to the ground and burned away in the moonlight.
She shook her head as she looked around. “You all are about the stupidest flock of Sluagh I’ve ever run across. Didn’t any of you wonder why the dogs aren’t barking?”
The rest of the flock looked around, to see that Barkley and the widow-lady’s dogs had jumped their respective fences and were now on the street, blocking escape.
She sighed. “You can’t go onto the land under Protection, and now you can’t get around those dogs, either. Guess you’ll have to try to come through me.” The city-Sluagh turned and started for her. She grinned. “I was hoping to have some fun on this trip.”
Big Mams shook Junior and Little Mams awake with one hand. “All over.” She shifted the bundle she was holding a bit.
“That was fast,” Junior mumbled.
“What happened?” Little Mams yawned. Junior was still lying down, but he put his hand on Little’s back to keep her upright.
“Challenged the leader, knocked him right out, the animals blocked the exits, the rest of them tried to take me. They wanted your house and your neighbors’ so they could have clear access to the wash. Must have looked like a paradise to them. Pathetic, really.”
The bundle made a cooing sound. Little’s eyes widened and Big Mams saw her wake right up. “What do you have there, Momma?”
Big Mams shook her head. “You didn’t think I was going to leave the poor thing alone and unwatched, did you?” she asked, as she handed the bundle to Little Mams.
Little cradled it carefully and pulled the blanket off a bit. “Pretty baby,” she whispered. “How will we find his real parents?” she asked, never taking her eyes off the infant’s face. He was looking right back, blue eyes taking in everything.
“We can’t,” Big Mams told them. “He’s gifted, this one, and he remembers all that’s happened. The Sluagh came and took him and left a fire-salamander in return. It burned the house down and took everyone in it. The Sluagh stayed and watched, so he watched too.”
“Poor boy,” Little Mams said, cuddling the child a little closer than before. “They must not have wanted to let you near him. How’d you take on all of them alone?” she asked, sounding worried, as she rocked the baby and made soft, clucking noises.
Big Mams chuckled. “I’m standing here fit as a fiddle and you’re worried. That’s touching, Little. I had three familiars, a pack of enforcers, and Old Edna’s cast iron skillet. It was like slicing butter with a hot knife.”
“That was awful nice of her to let you take it all the way here. I thought that was just our old skillet.”
“Nope. I left ours at home. Figured I’d need the best one for this trip and Old Edna agreed. I think it’s time for you two to come on back home, though.”
“Why? Do you think there’ll be trouble?” Junior asked, sounding a bit concerned, though he was looking at the baby when he asked.
“Well, there should be. Here you two find the weakest bunch of beasties I’ve ever seen in all my born days and you needed to call on me to take them out.”
“We weren’t sure,” Little Mams said in a small voice. “It’s different here.”
“I’ll say,” Big Mams agreed with a sigh. “There’s nothing weaker than a bunch of city-bred Highland fairies. Host of the Dead, my foot. Weren’t like fighting a werewolf or a vampire or a zombie. Not even up to ghoul standards, let alone any of the other fairy-folk. The Sluagh used to be real trouble in the old days, but not now.” She shook her head. “Can’t believe it took you as long as you told me to figure them out.”
“Well, Little thought something was wrong from the start,” Junior said gallantly. “It took me longer to come around.”
“I didn’t real
ly think anything was wrong until our nice neighbors disappeared. After all, we were sent here to solve a different problem.” Little sighed and looked up at her mother. “What’s going to become of him?”
“It’s only neighborly to care for the poor child, since he’s all alone in this world now.” Big Mams smiled to herself at the expression on both Junior and Little’s faces. “He says he’s good with being called Trey,” she added casually.
Little’s eyes widened. “You mean he wants to stay with us?” She was trying to keep the excitement out of her voice, but it was still obvious.
Junior slid his arm around Little’s shoulders. “You’ll be a good momma, honey, I know you will be.”
“And you’ll be the best daddy ever,” Little chirped back.
“I surely hope so,” Big Mams said dryly. “Because you’re going to have more on your hands soon than just this one.” They both looked up at her with shock and hope warring for dominance. She shook her head with a laugh. “You weren’t sure about all this fuss because your power’s being sent to the baby. Don’t you know how to count, Little?”
“Hasn’t mattered before,” Little said quietly.
“Matters now. Don’t worry. Trey here will be all ready to take care of his new baby sister when she arrives. And,” she added sternly, “she’s going to arrive back home, where you two belong.”
“But we still have work to do out here,” Junior said, without a lot of enthusiasm.
“Your work’s done.”
They looked at her blankly. The baby gurgled; Big Mams knew he was laughing.
“We were supposed to find and retrieve two new powers,” Little protested. “We haven’t found one yet.”
Big Mams grinned. “Found both right here, Little. You got one in your arms and one in your belly.” She laughed at Junior’s shocked expression. “You two needed to be out on your own for a bit. Now that you know everything works just fine, you can come home. If you want to, that is.”
