Smells Like Finn Spirit

by Randy Henderson

  “The other Demesnes, however, did not like the idea of Chaos waiting to take their place in defeat, or the arrogance of Chaos, and so planned both a trap and a punishment. They gathered together a Quorum of all the Demesnes, and argued it was only fair that Chaos should prove the will of the Aal by the drawing of stones from within a blazing Fey Flame, one stone inscribed with the symbol for war, the other blank. The Fey Flame was a fire willed by all Fey to be eternal, so that the Chaos Proxenos could not quench it in the supposed name of the Aal. If the Aal truly willed Chaos to remain apart and uncommitted, the other Demesnes argued, then the Aal would allow the Chaos Proxenos to draw the blank stone from the flame.

  “But, led by the Forest of Shadows, the Quorum secretly placed within the flame two stones both with the symbol for war.

  “The Chaos Proxenos, seeing little choice in the face of the combined will of all there, drew one of the stones, even though it left his hand horribly burned and forever disfigured beyond even a Fey’s ability to reshape. Suspecting the Quorum’s simple trickery, however, the Proxenos instantly devoured the stone before any could see it, claiming it as an act to the glory of the Aal, that the stone should also be part of him forever just like the flame’s mark.

  “A cry of protest arose. ‘Now we must do this again, for you did not show us what you drew!’ the Quorum’s leader declared.

  “‘Not at all,’ the Chaos Proxenos said, ‘for I drew the blank stone. And if you do not believe me, then you have simply to reach into the flame and withdraw the war-marked stone for proof.’ Of course, none took the offer, knowing well that the remaining stone was marked for war. So Chaos had their way, though some say the Chaos leader never forgave the other Demesnes for the loss of his hand.”

  That story certainly lined up with what Alynon said about Chaos not wanting anything to do with the human realm. And further, as I thought about it, that fit with what had been happening these past months as well. If Chaos truly believed it was their destiny to repopulate the Other Realm when the other Demesnes had fallen, might they not seek to speed up that fall by pushing both the Demesnes and the arcana toward war? And had this invisible enemy not outwitted the other Demesnes?

  Add to that the fact that Lerajie did seem the most likely suspect, at least out of the very limited number of suspects I knew of, and that the gnomes had been instrumental in the last plot—

  Is it possible that there’s an extremist group within Chaos doing this, like my grandfather among the arcana?

  Alynon didn’t respond.

  Aly, look, I’m sorry. This sucks. But if we work together, maybe we can actually stop all of this once and for all.

  Alynon remained silent for several steps. Then he sighed. *Possible, yes. Though it is much less likely. Aalbrights of any Demesne are part of that Demesne in ways that go beyond simple loyalty. We draw something of our nature, our reality, our sustenance from the Demesne, and shape the nature and reality of the Demesne in return. It is somewhat a symbiotic relationship. Not all within a Demesne share a single nature, but the natures of all are felt on some level, and a Demesne always acts as one through their leadership. We are not so inconstant as humans.*

  Not to start a fight or anything, but you don’t seem very constant, or tied to your Demesne. Is that because you were a changeling, or some other reason?

  Alynon went silent again.

  Great.

  We reached double doors, and Marduk said, “Enter the Chamber of Counsel, and be judged.”

  The doors swung open, and Marduk led me into a room that reminded me of the Quorum chamber in the Colloquy, a great round chamber that rose several stories, with gallery-style balconies ringing the room at each floor above us. Faces peered down over the railings. I spotted the Dalai Lama, Helen Keller, Martin Luther King Jr., and Susan B. Anthony, as well as Mary Poppins, Mr. Miyagi, Gandalf, several Ma’ats and Minervas, and other figures who had lived in memory as figures of wisdom and justice.

  The room itself held a curving table, a half circle with the ends pointing toward me like horns, at which sat a string of Fey who looked like the committee for a World Culture Festival. Queen te’Ma’at stood, pacing agitatedly behind her own chair at the table’s center, the gold bands on her arms flashing.

  Within the curve of the table stood a woman dressed in white robes and a silky white blindfold.

  *Is it just me,* Alynon said, *or is that blindfold kind of hot?*

  I didn’t respond. I could tell his heart wasn’t in the comment. It held an ironic edge, as though he were commenting to himself on the ridiculousness of his own Earth-influenced reactions here, in the heart of his true home, in the midst of such a terrible moment.

  And besides, I barely registered him or the other Fey as my eyes fixed on Dawn standing next to the woman in white, flanked by two of the Silver Guard. Dawn heaved a large and obvious breath of relief when she spotted me, and I did the same.

  I knew she felt what I felt—that as long as we had each other, everything would be okay.

  “Explain yourself, arcana!” Ma’at said as Marduk pushed me to stand beside Dawn and the lady in white. The queen’s face blazed with furious emotion, her eyes flashing bright within the contrast of dark kohl. “What could you hope to gain from such poisonous treachery?”

  “Mmmph-rr-mumble!” I replied.

  Marduk frowned, and waved his hand, removing the gag.

  “Thanks,” I said, wiping my mouth against my shoulder, then said, “I didn’t do it, majesty. I’m being framed.”

  The lady with the blindfold, who I realized must be Justitia, Lady Justice, held up her hand and said, “This is not the way. We must follow the Silver Path to wisdom and justice, not the path of anger and judgment.”

  The queen opened her mouth as if to protest, but did not, perhaps because she heard her own words spoken to Apollo now echoed back to her.

  “So it shall be,” she said, and took her seat. “Please call for the Terms.”

  Justitia nodded and said, “Let each Counsel propose the terms of punishment for the accused should he be found guilty. The accused shall choose which Term to accept, and should none be accepted, then final decision shall fall to the queen.” She turned to the left-most Fey seated at the table.

  “te’Ecne, what are your Terms?”

  Ecne wore a thin band of gold on his head, matching the tiny gold balls that hung on his long braids. He stroked his forked beard, and said in a thick Irish accent, “If the arcana Gramaraye did kill Prince te’Apollo, then for ten thousand cycles shall he be made to live the experience of being murdered fresh each cycle, or until his natural death, even so he may contemplate and truly understand the loss that death brings to not just the murdered, but to the murderer, and to all lives touched by both.”

  “Oh hell no,” Dawn said.

  I had to agree with her. Nobody else spoke, and I realized this was my chance to accept Ecne’s Terms. Even though I felt pretty certain I was innocent, at least of intentionally killing the prince, I had no desire to be murdered every day for ten thousand days if they found me guilty anyway. But for all I knew the remaining Terms could be even worse, so I didn’t dare reject them outright, not yet. I remained silent, and after a couple more seconds Justitia turned toward the next Counsel at the table.

  “te’Lao-Tzu, what are your Terms?”

  Lao-Tzu, an elderly Chinese man wearing pale yellow robes, gave me a sad smile, then said in a soft voice, “If the arcana Gramaraye killed Prince te’Apollo, then there is a great imbalance within him to drive such an unnatural act, and he should be exiled from all contact with others to contemplate the source of that imbalance, empty himself of ambition and harmful desires, and return to harmony with himself and the Aal.”

  Sentenced to a lifetime of solitary exile in the Other Realm? Not the worst of possible fates here, but I held out hope for something better.

  Justitia turned to the next Counsel, a Germanic woman in white robes.

  “te’Frigg, what are
your Terms?”

  “If the arcana Gramaraye killed Prince te’Apollo, then we should seek to weave the best destiny for our Demesne from the threads of tragedy, and …”

  So it went.

  Frigg, Zarlîk, Mandanu, and Shamash all proposed some variation on exile for life in the Other Realm with a delicious side order of mental torture, for my own good of course.

  The last Counsel was a Fey who’d adopted the persona of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

  “te’Kenobi,” Justitia said. “What are your Terms?”

  I expected him to respond in Alec Guinness’s cultured voice, but instead he said with a Sean Connery accent, “You have the manners of a goat, Gramaraye. But I hear you’ve gained at least some knowledge of your potential.”

  The words were familiar—not just from the Highlander movie, but from my years in exile. Only one Fey had ever really spoken to me outside of giving commands, let alone quoted back bits from the memories he fed on.

  “Blobby?” I asked.

  “Indeed, Highlander,” he said, and winked.

  I’d named him Blobby McFerrin first because, like any Fey visiting me in exile, he had appeared as a giant gelatinous blob to mask his true identity in the wildlands. But more importantly he had been the only Fey to share a memory back with me—a music video from after my exile for “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.” Both the message that happiness was in my mind and my control, and the reminder that there was a whole world of new music and entertainment waiting for me upon my return, helped get me through those early years of exile.

  Justitia prompted, “Your terms, te’Kenobi?”

  His voice did change now to the fatherly tone of Alec Guinness as he said, “If Finn killed the prince, then he shall be held as a guest until such time as Alynon Infedriel may be safely separated from him, and then we shall re-evaluate at that time the appropriate fate for each. It is unjust to sentence two for what is possibly the crime of one.”

  I blinked. “Accepted!” I said.

  Dawn grabbed my arm. “What? Why?”

  “Trust me, that’s about as good as I can hope for.” Especially with Queen Ma’at glaring daggers at me.

  I had my doubts about the ability to separate Alynon and me at all, despite Mort’s earlier promise, which meant that I might be held as a guest, in decent quarters, for the rest of my life rather than being fed on in exile. And if we were separated, then we would each get a second chance to make our case for innocence. Either bought me more time to escape or argue my case.

  “Accepted,” I said again.

  Justitia nodded once. “So the Terms are set, and agreed to. We shall now offer the accused the chance to swear an oath of innocence.”

  Oath?

  *If you swear you are innocent, then the charges are dropped.*

  Wait, really? That easy? Why—

  The queen stood. “I ask that the human not be allowed the Oath,” she said. “For while an Aalbright may speak truth by our nature, a human does not, and may swear to innocence he possesses not.”

  “From all I’ve seen,” Dawn said, “I’d trust Finn’s word over some Fey’s.”

  “Nonetheless,” Justitia said, “it is agreed, the Oath cannot be held as certain when given by a human. We therefore shall withhold the Oath—”

  “Wait,” I said. “In the Colloquy, in the Quorum chamber, they said anyone who spoke a lie there would suffer great pain. Can’t you do the same here?”

  Justitia looked like she’d just sucked a lemon-flavored algebra problem. “Such methods are distasteful to us. It implies coercion toward a desired answer, and when coercion is used even an Aalbright may find ways to deceive. Particularly one pledged to the Shadows.”

  “I’m not pledged to the Shadows,” I replied. “And trust me, being forced to tell the truth is nowhere near as distasteful as being punished for a crime I didn’t commit. I know from experience.”

  Justitia cocked her head as if listening to something beyond normal hearing, then said, “If the accused is the one requesting a compulsory truth-telling, then we see no reason to refuse it. Counsel, please commune and Shape the room, Aal willing.”

  “Our will is Aal,” the others replied, and then fell silent for a minute. I felt a slight pressure growing in my ears, as though in a swiftly climbing airplane, then there was a flicker as if reality were a worn VHS movie finding its tracking. Nothing seemed to have changed though.

  “Now, arcana,” Justitia said. “Speak you any word of deception, and you will suffer great pain. Did you kill Prince te’Apollo?”

  “Not that I know of,” I said, causing a stir among the Fey. “I mean, if I did, I don’t remember it, and it would have been someone else controlling my body.”

  “So Alynon Infedriel may have done it?”

  “He says he didn’t, and I believe him,” I replied.

  *Thank you,* Alynon said.

  “But you do not know for certain whether he took control of you?”

  “Well, he’s never been able to before. I mean, not for more than a couple of seconds. And that sort of knocks him out a while.”

  “In your world, and that you know of,” Justitia said. “But are you certain he does not have greater control in his native Realm?”

  “Uh, no,” I admitted.

  “And do you have access to his thoughts? Are you able to know when he speaks true?”

  “No.” Damn. “But your honor, we do think we know who framed us. If you could just summon—”

  “Out of order,” Justitia interrupted. “We cannot accept your claims of another’s guilt until we have proven the truth or lie of your own guilt, so that we may judge the possible intent and worth of your claims.”

  “Seriously?” Dawn said. “Would it help if he filled out form twenty-seven B stroke six?”

  Justitia cocked her head in Dawn’s direction, and her brow furrowed above her blindfold. “I’m afraid I do not understand the question.”

  “Well then,” Dawn said, “let me explain about a little thing called bureaucratic bullshi—” I grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered. “We’ll figure this out.” Louder, I said, “What she was asking is, why won’t you listen to my charges? You would know if I was lying, right?”

  Justitia replied, “It is not certain that yours is the innocence in question. You are two spirits in one body, which presents a unique puzzle that we must solve. We cannot know whether your actions were yours, or Alynon’s, or some combination. We cannot trust your charges if they were influenced by one who might themselves be guilty. And we cannot hear Alynon’s words nor compel him to truth while he is within you.”

  “This is crazy,” Dawn said. “Why would Finn or Alynon kill the prince? We were trying to get his help!”

  “An excellent question,” Blobby-Wan Kenobi said, and rose to move around the end of the table. He placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Perhaps, if we cannot prove Alynon innocent of the act itself, we can prove him innocent of the will or want to commit such a crime. Can we not try Alynon through the old way of Proof against Cause?”

  Justitia tilted her head a second, then said, “Though not a certain proof of innocence, it may be taken as proof against guilt, if three proofs are given.” She looked around at the other Counselors. “What cause may be laid upon Alynon Infedriel that he should kill the prince?”

  Ecne said, “Alynon had the cause of Revenge against the Silver: revenge for his exile, and the reasons such exile was imposed.”

  Lao-Tzu nodded. “Alynon had the cause of Selfishness, as his nature has never been true to the Silver, but rather true only to his own desires and ambitions.”

  Shamash said, “Alynon had the cause of Jealousy against his brother, who won that which Alynon desired, and was the favored prince.”

  Justitia waited a beat, then said, “Three good causes, Revenge, Selfishness, and Jealousy. Alynon, do you wish to prove against them?”

  *Do you think I can get her to punish me privately
if I do not?* Alynon said, though he again sounded more ironic than lascivious as he did.

  You need to take this seriously, I thought back.

  *La, now here is a day to mark indeed, when you are the voice of reason.*

  I sighed, then said out loud, “Alynon says yes.”

  Justitia nodded. “The Causes are presented, and challenged.” She frowned. “But can Alynon’s memories be shared as Proofs?”

  Blobby looked at me, and held his hand up, palm facing me, his Jedi robe sliding down his wrist slightly. “May I?”

  I sighed. “Yes.”

  He placed his hand on my head—not a necessary act to read my memories I knew, but something he had always done for me as a reassurance of when he was in my head and not. He stood in silence a moment.

  “I believe so,” Blobby finally said, to my surprise. “The barriers against Alynon’s memories were woven by the Silver, after all, and though their nature has been corrupted I should be able to get past them.”

  I groaned as it really hit me what this meant—I was about to go inside Alynon’s head. Bad enough to have Alynon in my head, but for me to go inside his? “Why do I feel like I’m in for a violent prolonged transformative psychic episode?”

  “Just relax,” Blobby replied. “Pretend you are going to see a moving picture.”

  “Except I don’t have to live with the characters in my head afterward,” I muttered.

  *Clearly, you don’t pay attention to half the things you say,* Alynon replied. *I sometimes think you are little but the characters collected in your head.*

  “Ready?” Blobby asked.

  Just focus, and get us out of this mess, I thought back. I closed my eyes, and practiced the mental exercises Grandfather had taught me long ago for clearing the mind of distracting thoughts and worries. Then I gave a sharp nod.

  THERE, a voice echoed in my head. A shift, similar to what I felt when Vee had read my memories, except I could feel it physically, like I had one of those little brain crawly bugs from Wrath of Khan squiggling and burrowing between my brain lobes.