Smells Like Finn Spirit

by Randy Henderson

  “Natural order?” Grandfather asked sharply. “The natural order is that arcana are the superior race—we are better than creatures dreamed up by primitive minds or magical perversions, and certainly better than humans lacking even the ability to sense the magical realm.”

  Merlin stood straighter. “There is more magic in a single act of compassion than you have in your entire body.”

  Grandfather snorted. “Compassion won’t stop the Fey from making slaves of us all.”

  “It worked for Gandhi,” I said.

  “There are many paths to peace,” Merlin added, looking at Grandfather with something like pity now. “War is the worst of them.”

  Grandfather sneered. I had read about people who sneered, of course, and seen it characterized by cheesy villains in movies and such, but never really thought I’d actually see a live sneer in nature. It was one of those words like “discombobulated” that seemed too cartoonish to be seen in reality.

  But Grandfather definitely sneered, and said, “That is exactly the kind of nonsense I’d expect from a literal tree-hugging loony. Even if you’ve somehow forgotten the last Fey invasion, George, you’re still old enough to know better.”

  Those last words resonated with me. “You’re old enough to know better” was the kind of thing Grandfather had said to us kids all the time as we were growing up, and really drove home that this wasn’t some unfamiliar lunatic. This man destroying our lives was family, a man who helped to raise me.

  During my childhood, his supremacist views peeked through in the occasional joke or complaint, but he hadn’t exactly been homeschooling us with a bunch of Arcanite propaganda about Fey Creationism and arcana superiority, or drilling us like little soldiers. He’d been fiercely proud of the Gramaraye name, and of our arcana heritage, always pushing for us kids to be proud as well.

  “Who are you doing this for?” I asked.

  Grandfather turned to me. “I did not come to explain myself.”

  “No. You came to destroy me. Me, Petey, Sammy, Mattie, you’re destroying the lives of your family, of everyone you claim to be defending.” I leaned forward, putting genuine care in my voice. “Grandfather, don’t you remember what it was like to sit around the dinner table with Mother and all us kids? Do you remember that story you used to tell about seeing Mother for the first time in Grandmother’s arms, and then seeing each of us for the first time, how happy you were that Mother’s children had the necromancy gift to continue the family line?”

  Grandfather’s lips went razor thin and he turned away. “I remember,” he said, his tone sad. “I remember your grandmother every day. And that is why you should believe that what I do is necessary. If I could live the simple life of a family man free from worry, I would.” He turned back, and his tone sharpened again. “But I know too much to sit idly awaiting the doom of my world. And I have chosen to sacrifice my happiness so that others won’t suffer.”

  “Funny, so far the only people you’ve sacrificed, and who have suffered, are the people closest to you.” I waved at his worn-out body.

  “It is—This too is my gift to the arcana, my sacrifice.” He straightened, standing even more stiffly than before. “But if the cost of victory were cheap, then it would not require someone of my conviction to pay it.”

  Merlin said, “Yet you are not the one to truly pay it, are you.”

  “Go lick some mushrooms and mind your own business, druid,” Grandfather snapped.

  “So … no chance you’ll stop, then?” I asked. “Maybe just come home for some waffles?”

  “I see you have not outgrown the habit of avoiding hard truths by making jokes,” Grandfather said.

  “Maybe.” I shrugged. “And maybe if you saw the humor in things a bit more, you wouldn’t be running around destroying lives and starting wars. Seriously, Grandfather, how can you not see that what you’re doing is wrong?”

  “Because I see more than you.”

  “And you’re proving true every fear that people have of necromancers. You are the real danger here.”

  That got past his arrogant calm. His face went splotchy red, a vein pulsed on his temple, and he leaned in to slam a fist onto the table, causing the place settings to clatter noisily. “Respect!”

  “Earn it!” I snapped back. “That’s what you always taught us, that respect had to be earned. Do you think anyone’s going to respect the monster you’ve become?”

  “History will judge me a hero,” Grandfather spat back. “Just like Verona. Just like my—” he stopped, and visibly gathered himself, taking a deep breath and tugging at his shirt to straighten it. In a cold, mocking tone, he said, “You are very self-righteous, yet you destroyed a spirit and used that power to win your own victory. If I am a monster, then so are you. But I am a monster for a greater cause, not some momentary need.”

  That was like a punch to the gut. But I pushed forward. “I had no choice in that. You do have a choice here. Nobody is forcing you to do this.”

  Grandfather gave a pitying shake of his head. “You are a child wandering the dark forest with a flashlight. You see only a tiny patch of reality. But in the trees wait terrible creatures, Finn. And beyond the woods—” he stopped, and chuckled. “I have made alliance with some of the Fey, as you know. Fey who seek to gain access to our world, to use us just as we would use them. Do you think if I lay down and die, they would not still be plotting to consume our world?”

  “Who?” I asked. “Which Fey? The Forest of Shadows?”

  Grandfather smiled. “Once again, I must disappoint you. I am still not so foolish as to reveal the details of my plans before they are fulfilled.”

  “No, see, getting the Baron von Joy GoBot for Christmas when I asked for an Optimus Prime Transformer, that was a disappointment. What you’re doing now, this is a heinous crime.”

  “Well, then, let us put an end to your suffering,” Grandfather said, and stepped toward me, one hand rising. I felt the tingle between my eyes that warned of rising magic.

  “Smile,” I said. “You’re on Hidden Camera.”

  Grandfather froze, and said, “What?”

  I pointed over my left shoulder to the restaurant counter, and the kitchen behind it. “There’s a hidden camera recording everything we said. And through the wonders of modern Samology, my sister can send those recordings to the ARC, the YouTube, and a bunch of other places I’ve never even heard of.”

  Grandfather shrugged, a bit too nonchalantly. “The infomancers—”

  “Can’t hold an If statement up to my sister. It will be seen. By a lot of people.”

  “Maybe I shall still take possession of you, and hunt your sister down,” Grandfather said. “I can deal with this video after.”

  “Sammy says you guys have only arrested about half the people you plan to. You may control the local ARC, but I’m guessing the other regional ARCs being alerted to your conspiracy now would be rather inconvenient. Are you sure you want to risk it?”

  Grandfather’s thin lips pursed to the side and his eyes narrowed. Finally, he said, “What is to keep you from releasing the video regardless?”

  “My word, as a necromancer, and as a Gramaraye, if that still holds any meaning to you.”

  “They of course hold meaning to me. I am just not convinced they hold such meaning for you. You always did seem to have your foot half out of the door, ready to abandon your family and duties both, even before exile.”

  “Wow. You know, a hippo who rolls all ones has got nothing on you.”

  “Excuse me?” Grandfather asked.

  “You do hear yourself, right?” I said. “The guy who’s literally destroying his family with necromancy is questioning my honor?”

  “Perhaps if you had done anything worthy of living, your death would be a crime,” Grandfather replied. “As it is, I will be judged a hero and my family simply a footnote.”

  Damn it if that didn’t sting. Why I still cared even a little about what this maniac thought, I didn’t know; but I
had to stop myself from trying to argue the worth of my choices, the value of my accomplishments. I guess an entire childhood spent trying to please him had left its mark on my psyche.

  “Fine,” I said. “I swear upon the spirit of my mother, and her honor as a necromancer.”

  Grandfather gave a slight bow with his head. “That, I believe.” He stared at me a long silent moment, then said, “Where did you say this camera was?”

  “Hidden,” I replied.

  “Very well.” He glanced back at Merlin, then looked in the direction of the kitchen behind me. “Samantha, you were always a disappointment to me, and to your mother.”

  “That’s enough” I said.

  He ignored me. “You weren’t a Talker like your mother. With your allergies, you weren’t even a true arcana.”

  I stood up. “I said stop it. Now!”

  Grandfather smiled, still looking toward the kitchen. “And then you couldn’t even fulfill your duty to carry on the family line, choosing perversion over—”

  I shoved him.

  At least, I tried. He simply raised a hand between us and my nervous system flared. I writhed in more pain than Howard the Duck being roasted on a spit while watching Leonard Part 6. Grandfather summoned my spirit, and I’d walked right into it, let my anger disrupt my mental focus and my defenses.

  I fell to my knees, my hands and jaw clenching against the pain, my entire body shivering.

  “Merlin!” I called.

  Merlin took a step toward us. “Please stop this. By hurting him, you only injure yourself.”

  “No,” Grandfather said. “I feel confident that Finn is the one being injured.”

  My burning nervous system agreed with him.

  “As a worker of spiritual energy, you must see that we are all connected,” Merlin said, frustration clear in his tone. “Violence to another only—”

  “Damn it, Merlin!” I shouted through my pain. “Do something!”

  I fell to the ground, convulsing now into a fetal position as my muscles spasmed and my skin felt like I’d gotten a thousand paper cuts before soaking in Agent Orange juice.

  Grandfather gave a derisive snort. “You were a fool to rely on a druid for protection. Especially this one.”

  “I am not here as muscle, Gavriel,” Merlin said. “I am here to offer witness, and wisdom should you accept it.”

  “Go sell your nonsense to the hippies,” Grandfather said. He closed his hand, and the pain stopped.

  Did he waver on his feet for a second, or was that just my own dizziness?

  It couldn’t be easy maintaining possession of that body. And to exert control beyond it at the same time—

  Grandfather cleared his throat. “I think I shall deny your request for the life of Samantha’s lover,” he said. “Instead, I shall grant you your life, for now. And as insurance, I shall hold on to the dyke sorceress—her body at least. Should you release the video, or make further attempts to interfere in my plans, then I shall have to kill her. And there would be no reason to further spare you.”

  He turned away, and gave a dismissive wave at Merlin. “Remove yourself from my path, meat wall.”

  Merlin’s face went red, but after a second he stepped aside, and let Grandfather march out of the diner.

  As the jingling of the doorbell faded, I pushed myself up into a sitting position.

  “Looks like we’re doing it the hard way,” I muttered.

  15

  RUNAWAY TRAIN

  Merlin offered me a hand, but I waved it away, annoyed, and pulled myself up using the edge of the booth.

  “What the hell was that?” I asked, my voice still shaky. “I mean, I know you’re all about the non-violence, but couldn’t you, I don’t know, hug him real hard or something? I might be dead now!”

  Merlin looked sad but not remorseful as he said, “If walking the Path were easy, then everyone would do it.”

  “Damn it, Merl, it isn’t a question of easy. Do you think it’s easy to fight my own grandfather, or to nearly have my spirit ripped out of me? No. It’s about doing what is right.”

  “Death is just part of the cycle,” Merlin replied. “But violence is a choice.”

  “If you can stop violence but don’t, isn’t that a choice to support it?”

  Merlin sighed. “I do not expect you to understand. And I did not come knocking on your door at the crack of dawn. If you do not wish my counsel, then you may go elsewhere.”

  Sammy pulled up in front of the diner in Dawn’s Woody wagon.

  “Come,” Merlin said. “Let us return to my home. I need a beer.”

  I grabbed Sammy’s camera and transmitter setup from the kitchen, then we closed up the diner and climbed into the car. I joined Dawn in the backseat, and Merlin took shotgun. Sammy looked ready to murder someone, pulling out of the parking lot like a stunt driver on too much coffee, and Merlin had the poor luck of being the closest target for her anger.

  “You godsdamned delusional bastard, you were just going to let Finn die. I don’t give a crap if you want to dance in your bathrobe chanting nonsense at the moon, but there’s no excuse for that kind of bullshit cowardice!”

  “It is not cowardice,” Merlin replied with an edge to his tone. “It is conviction. True conviction, not Gavriel’s madness.”

  Sammy snorted. “A conviction to let the Arcanites kill people and Fey without doing anything to stop them, long as they don’t piss on your petunias. Unbelievable.”

  Merlin was silent for a minute, then said, “Your home is upon the doorstep of the Olympic forest, is it not?”

  Sammy rolled her eyes at me in the rearview mirror, but didn’t respond to Merlin.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “For many years, the rangers suppressed all fire in the national forests,” Merlin said, watching the moonlit landscape speed by. “They wished to save the trees and avoid destruction. A seemingly noble cause. But in time, they came to realize that fire is a natural part of a forest’s lifecycle, a necessary one. Without it, the ground becomes piled with dead wood and leaves. Without it, certain trees and plants grow up unchecked, while those that have evolved to use fire in assisting their reproduction die away. With so much thick coverage above and growth below, the water cycle is changed, affecting even the weather. And when a fire finally does ignite naturally, the heat and fury of it is difficult to control, let alone stop.”

  Sammy shook her head. “That’s fascinating. But what the fuck does that have to do with standing there like a frakking lump while my brother is killed?”

  Merlin shrugged his massive shoulders. “Stopping your grandfather might save lives. But who in this car has the wisdom to say with certainty the world will be better for it? To see all the lives touched, the futures shaped, the positive changes no longer inspired?”

  I could hear the creak of the steering wheel as Sammy’s hands tightened around it. “I think I can say with pretty damn certainty that my girlfriend being murdered is not going to make our lives any better.”

  “She’s right,” I said. “Doing nothing doesn’t guarantee a better future any more than doing something. But at least by fighting back, we might keep innocent people from being killed.”

  “Death is inevitable. But their spirits continue on, you know this,” Merlin replied.

  “Death is inevitable,” I agreed. “Murder is not. If everyone felt like you, then there would be nothing to stop my grandfather from taking over the world and making everyone’s lives suck.”

  “If everyone felt like I did, then your grandfather would see the wisdom of peace.”

  “News flash,” Sammy said. “Our grandfather is no druid. So while you spit out your philosophical hypothetical bullshit, those of us who live in reality have to deal with the actual facts.”

  “Whose facts?” Merlin replied. “Might your grandfather’s acts be evil? Perhaps, depending on your views. But if he is evil for visiting violence upon others, then let that stain be upon his spirit. Do not put a stain
upon your own by matching his violence with violence.”

  I gave up. Sammy wasn’t finished, however.

  “Pretty convenient to pick and choose all the pacifist earth warden bits there, Sir Inconvenient Truth, and ignore that druids practiced human sacrifice.”

  Merlin shrugged. “It was a different time, a different place, when we were the law for our people, guiding them to order and balance. We led by authority and by example. Now,” he sighed. “Now, we must lead by example alone.”

  “Whatever,” Sammy said.

  We rode in a silence more awkward than Refrigerator Perry in the Super Bowl Shuffle, until Dawn finally leaned forward and said, “So, is this Stonehenge a spiritual place for you?”

  “Of course,” Merlin replied. “It is tied into the spirit of the earth.”

  “Well, isn’t it putting some kind of stain on the spirit of the earth if the Arcanites use Stonehenge to hurt people or cast dark magic or whatever?”

  Merlin was silent a while. Finally, he said, “Very well. I will summon the Gedai knights.”

  “Seriously?” Sammy said. “You’ll help save a bunch of rocks, but not people?”

  “Knock the leaves from a tree and it survives,” Merlin said. “Poison the roots, and the whole tree dies.”

  “Unbelievable,” Sammy muttered.

  *Your sister clearly does not understand the nature of human religions,* Alynon said.

  What would that be, oh wise one? I thought back.

  *To justify whatever it is they want to believe anyway,* Alynon said.

  Wow. I thought you were going to say—

  *And of course, to justify whatever sexual perversion one may enjoy.*

  Yep. There it is.

  *That used to be their one redeeming quality,* Alynon went on, probably because he sensed it would irritate me.

  *Though sadly so many of the modern religions have abandoned the orgies and sex rituals, and instead practice self-loathing. Still, from what I’ve observed, making most kinds of sex taboo and sinful only makes it hotter, yes?*

  Uh huh. Do you mind if we discuss something else? Like how we’re going to stop my grandfather and rescue Fatima, and not get ourselves killed?