Smells Like Finn Spirit

by Randy Henderson

  His blood-soaked hands clenched into fists.

  “You’ll be avenged,” he promised. “I won’t stop—I won’t die—until you are!”

  * * *

  The flood of my grandfather’s memories ended.

  *There are more, but none so painful,* Alynon’s voice said.

  My mind reeled a bit as it readjusted to being me me, not Grandfather me, and some distant part of my awareness realized tears ran down my face.

  I was not going to be able to convince Grandfather to stop from poisoning the Other Realm.

  I was not going to be able to stop him from killing every Fey there.

  39

  COUNTDOWN TO EXTINCTION

  I’m pulling us out, Mort projected at me. I need to regroup.

  Wait! I thought, but Mort had already disengaged from Grandfather, and my full awareness suddenly dropped back into my own body.

  Frak. I hoped Alynon would be able to hold his own against Grandfather’s attempts to exorcise him. He should, with Grandfather so committed to the ritual, but I didn’t like the feeling that we’d abandoned him.

  I gave Dawn a quick reassuring smile that I didn’t really feel, letting her know I was back, then looked around us. I could see nothing of the battle, couldn’t tell if anyone still lived on either side. But half of the prisoners bound to the standing stones looked dead, or passed out and on the verge of death, and the rest looked like they were more than ready to join that first half.

  “Jesus,” Mort whispered. “Jesus.” He wiped at his own face, and looked at me. “I—I’m sorry, Finn. I thought I understood him, you, us, but—” He shook his head. “What do we do now?”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  Dawn said, “Can you reverse the polarity?”

  “What?” I frowned at her, confused.

  “Or rotate the harmonics. I don’t know. One of those is always the solution on television.”

  “Well, that is basically what we have to do, actually,” I said. “Reverse the flow, withdraw the poison. I just don’t know how to get Grandfather to do it.”

  “Well, if Alynon’s in there, can’t he do it?” Dawn asked. “He was able to grab my ass when he controlled you.”

  “Not the same,” I said. “We’d been bonded by several different—” I stopped.

  The magic flowed through Grandfather’s physical host body, being transformed without his conscious will at this point. The spell would only respond to Grandfather still, but Alynon had just absorbed some of the memories that were at the core of Grandfather’s desire to destroy the Fey to begin with. And Grandfather’s spirit no more belonged to Jared’s body than Alynon did. It might be enough to trick the spell.

  But Alynon would need to bond fully with the body, to become its actual, inhabiting spirit.

  To allow that, we would have to exorcise Grandfather. Yet if we banished his spirit now, with the spell still connecting him to the Other Realm, I feared he would simply be pulled there as Brianne’s spirit had been rather than traveling beyond the Veil, and the spell might remain locked to him.

  My stomach suddenly turned to acid, and fear flashed through me like a fever chill.

  I closed my eyes. Gods, anything else.

  But I could think of nothing else. And around me, the screams of the prisoners continued.

  “Mort,” I said. “We have to go back in. I’ve got a plan B.”

  “I think we’re easily on plan K by now,” Mort said. “But as long as it works—” he closed his eyes.

  I turned to Dawn, and gave her a hard kiss, as if I could press all of my love into her in this one act, as if I could escape into her, and live forever in this single moment.

  But the kiss ended as I felt Mort’s summoning begin. “Dawn, I—” I couldn’t think of what to say.

  Dawn said, “I know. You love me. Now go kick ass, and don’t get killed.”

  I closed my eyes again before she could see the truth in them.

  Then together, Mort and I punched our way through Grandfather’s spiritual barriers once more.

  Alynon, I projected directly to him. You need to fully take control of the body, bond with it. Mort and I will get rid of Grandfather. Then you can hopefully reverse the flow of this spell, draw the poison back out of your realm.

  Wait, Mort said. Where will the poison go?

  Into me, I projected at him. I am going to summon Grandfather’s spirit into my body. Then I will become a focus for the spell, making it easier for Alynon to reverse the flow into me.

  A moment of silence, then Alynon said, *Fa, if you still feel you must atone for Dunngo or some other crime—*

  No, I said. I mean, I do need to make that right, but I’m not being a martyr here. This just has to be done. I can’t just let Grandfather wipe out an entire world.

  Mort projected to me privately. Look man, I’m really not trying to be a dick here, he said, a sure sign he was about to be a dick. But maybe we just escape, and rally the troops or whatever. I mean, it’s terrible about the Fey and all, but to die for them?

  I sighed. Mort, it isn’t just the Fey. If Grandfather takes control of the Other Realm, he’ll control magic itself. He’ll have the power to rule the world, and use us like puppets. And he’s not going to be too happy with me, you, Mattie—

  Shit, Mort said. Shit. Gods damn it! So you’re literally going to save the world? Like that won’t come up at every damn Thanksgiving and Solstice dinner.

  *I do not know what concerns you have,* Alynon said, *but if we are to do this, then it must be now!*

  Release the Kirken! I thought back.

  Shit, Mort said again. Then, Fine. Fine. Okay, let’s do this.

  I returned my attention to the spiritual world within Grandfather’s host, the tumultuous hurricane of Grandfather’s spirit still beating at the fortifications around Alynon’s presence, and the stream of destructive energies that flowed from the prisoners, through this body and into the Other Realm.

  I summoned Grandfather’s spirit.

  There was a painful jolt and his spirit yanked free of my summoning, as if I’d tried to grab hold of a passing train car.

  Shazbutt!

  I focused my will again, and this time imagined my summoning not as a pulling but as a wedge that I sheared into the flow of spirit, severing it and diverting it into myself.

  Grandfather resisted, his will pushed back against mine.

  Give it up, boy! he projected. You have lost. Your energies would be better spent seeking my forgiveness.

  I know, I replied. That’s why I’m giving you what you wanted. Come on in, Finn Hotel is open for occupancy.

  Grandfather was silent for several heartbeats, then replied, I think not. I’m sure you have some fine trap laid for me, and while I would love to teach you a final lesson in humility, I think I shall wait and punish you properly once my plans are fulfilled.

  The wedge that I had tried to force into the flow of spirit began to erode, like a wall of sand in a high wind.

  Mort, a little help here? I projected.

  I felt Mort join in the summoning. It was not the smooth joining that I had experienced in my youth with Grandfather or Mother as they had guided me in learning necromancy. Mort might be helping me, but his spirit and will were clearly not in agreement with the decision, nor in synch with my own. It was a forced joining, like being paired up with someone in school that you barely knew and didn’t particularly like. But I accepted his reluctant spiritual handshake and felt his strength join mine.

  The erosion stopped, the wedge of our joined will grew solid and strong enough to cut through Grandfather’s resistance. The hold of Grandfather’s spirit on its stolen body was severed, and it began to flow toward me, through the link of Mort’s power.

  Mort threw me out of the link, and I slammed back into my own body with the force of an elephant falling off of the Space Needle.

  The disorientation faded and I had a full sense of my body. “What the—”

  Da
wn, who had been holding my hand the entire time, lifted it and said, “Finn? Are you okay?” The flow of life energy that Mort had been maintaining from her to me ended abruptly.

  “Yeah,” I said. “But I think Mort just betrayed us. Again.”

  “No,” Mort said, his voice strained. His eyes opened, and he blinked at us. “I have Grandfather’s spirit. Damn he’s strong. It’s a good thing I’ll be dead soon, otherwise I’d be dead soon.” He winced, and his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. “Damn he’s strong,” he said again.

  “Mort, what the hell are you doing?” I said.

  Mort looked down to where Dawn held my hand against her chest. “Jesus, look at you. You’ve been back six months and you’re practically married. I’ve had twenty-five years and all I managed to do is nearly lose my soul to a succubus.”

  “Hey,” Dawn said. “Love is hard, man. The music industry would collapse if it weren’t.”

  “Mort, it’s not too late,” I said. “Give Grandfather’s spirit to me. You’ve got Mattie—”

  “Wait,” Dawn said. “What’s going on here?”

  “If Mattie is to ever believe I loved her, to not … not hate me—and if there’s going to be any honor left to the Gramaraye name—I need to do this.”

  “Show Mattie you love her by being a good father,” I replied.

  “Don’t ruin this for me,” Mort replied. “I helped Grandfather do all this. If you stop him, you’ll be a dead hero and I’ll end up in exile anyway, and there will be nobody to help Mattie. Nobody also willing to stay in Port Townsend and help her save the business anyway. Believe me, this isn’t my first choice, but it has to be this way. Now tell Alynon to do his part, before I come to my senses and stop being so incredibly heroic.”

  My throat grew tight, and I had a hard time saying, “You always have to outdo me.”

  “It’s not that hard, really,” Mort replied.

  “Douche.”

  “Dork.”

  “I-I love you, brother.”

  “Who can blame you?” Mort twitched, and closed his eyes. “Shut up, you old bastard,” he said. “It’s long past time you showed me some gods damned respect!” He waved at me. “Finn, hurry!”

  I closed my eyes, and felt for Alynon’s presence. I could feel myself fading, the darkness beginning to close in around the edges now that Mort’s energy IV had ended, but I found Alynon’s spirit, and managed to connect with him long enough to project NOW!

  A second later, Mort slammed backward to the ground and began spasming. A terrible scream ripped from his throat and cut across my ears like the claws of a thousand tortured cats.

  Mort’s body began to smoke, and blacken, and crack, and from the cracks a sickly green light shone out. The smoke billowed up, pressing at first against the confines of the ward trap, then blowing into the trees as the trap collapsed.

  “Oh my god,” Dawn said, and turned away.

  It seemed to last for hours, though it was surely only a handful of minutes. The silence that followed was like the peace of the cold and black ocean depths, crushing and merciless.

  Then Sammy and Pete and Vee surrounded me, while Silene and Sal marched with grim purpose toward cousin Jared’s body, slumped now against the pillar holding the Kin Finder.

  “Wait,” I called, my voice sounding weak even to me. “Wait!” I called louder, the effort causing the blackness on the edges of my vision to pulse and then creep inwards further. “That’s Alynon now!” I looked up at Sammy and Pete. “Grandfather’s gone. Father—?”

  “Bruised, but okay,” Sammy said.

  “Is it over?” Mattie asked, running into the circle of standing stones, and then she screamed. “Father!”

  Oh no. “Mattie,” I called. “Don’t look.”

  But of course she’d already seen, and she ran to his body, falling to her knees beside him. “No. No. Why? Father, why?”

  I felt the tingle of a spiritual summoning, and Mort’s voice echoed out of the crumbling remains of his corpse, “Because I love you, Mat-cat. And now you have a hero for a father, instead of a fool.”

  Mattie was Talking. She was a Talker, like me, just as her father had wanted.

  Gods. Poor Mat. Her life had just changed in more ways than I could even guess at. Again.

  “Dad, don’t talk like that,” she said. “I love you. I don’t care—”

  “Yes you do. And you should care,” Mort’s spirit responded. “Don’t ever not care how you are treated, sweetie, please. Finn, if you’re listening, I want the business to go to Mattie. I expect you to help her, not run off and join some gamer commune or get her caught up in your problems.”

  A dozen different responses clashed in my head—that he’d almost been decent for a second there before dying, that it was a shame death hadn’t cured his chronic dick-itis, that I was sorry for everything that had happened in his life that left him so scarred even in death—but in the end I simply joined Mattie’s summoning so that Mort could hear my response, and said, “Of course. I’ll watch after her. We all will.”

  “Thank you. Now Mattie, let me go. I don’t want you losing any more life energy Talking to me.”

  “But Dad—”

  “Mat-cat, please. I love you. Good-bye.”

  Mattie began sobbing, and I gently guided her toward ending the summoning. As I did, Mort said, “Shit! Finn, I have just one more thing. Just for you, not Mat.”

  I ended Mattie’s summoning, but held on to my own connection to Mort’s spirit.

  “Look,” I said. “I know you’re worried, but I promise, I’ll treat Mattie like my own daughter.”

  “Great, thanks for making me regret my decision,” Mort said. “But that’s not what I wanted.”

  “What is it, then?” I asked, and prepared myself for some new revelation about Mort, or our family, or the business. Were we in debt to the gnomes again? Had he slept with Dawn at some point? Gods, no, not that. I shuddered.

  Or maybe he just wanted to go beyond the Veil with true peace between us.

  “Only you can hear this, right?” Mort asked, increasing my level of concern.

  “Yes.”

  “Look, dude,” Mort said. “There’s some DVDs in the back of the bottom drawer of my dresser. And some files on my laptop, in a folder labeled “Boring Tax Info.” If you could maybe just get rid of those before Mattie sees them?”

  I stared for a minute as my brain processed his request. “Wait. You’re wasting my life energy and possibly your last words to be heard in this world asking me to get rid of your porn?”

  “Hey, I died a hero!” Mort said. “You should be kissing my ass, not giving me a guilt trip!”

  I shook my head. “Sure. And I’ll make sure to make up some better final words from you to put on the plaque beneath the giant statue we’re going to build to your honor.”

  “Good,” Mort replied. “Make me sound gods damned eloquent. Good-bye, Finn Fancy Necromancy Pants.”

  “Good-bye, Mort.”

  I released the summoning.

  And blackness swallowed me.

  EPILOGUE

  A young faun guided Dawn, Mattie, Sammy, Fatima, Father, Verna, and me along the hidden paths through the forests above the Elwha River.

  It was a beautiful day for a wedding.

  The sun slanted down through the trees in beams of white and gold, shifting as the trees swayed and whispered to each other, shimmering across motes of pollen, intricate spiderwebs, and dancing clouds of gnats. The warm air rising off of the baked riverbanks and open patches of clover smelled of green living things growing out of earthy decay, and the light summer breeze carried the piney scent of sun-warmed fir fronds.

  I wished I had thought to wear hiking clothes rather than the gray suit borrowed from Father, as sweat dewed my back, and the heels of my dress shoes caught on tree roots.

  A week since the battle with the Arcanites, and I still didn’t feel quite myself. I felt … bruised, in more than just body. I would sudd
enly burst into tears at random times, or imagine I could feel spirits around me when there were none, even as I felt the absence of Alynon, and Mort. But I was doing my best to put on a good show for Mattie’s sake, and to keep Dawn from worrying too much. I had already ruined what could have been some of the best days of her life, the chance to celebrate the release of her first single on the radio. I was determined to devote myself to them both going forward, to doing all I could to support their happiness.

  “I can’t wait to see Vee!” Mattie said as she practically skipped along the trail. “I bet she looks amazing! A white dress with her practically white hair? Oh my god! Do you think they will shapeshift at all? Can you imagine if Vee has her train and a tail? That would be so amazing!”

  She was doing her happy-bouncy thing. I had an increasingly hard time telling when it was genuine, and when it was her just masking pain.

  “You know what would be amazing?” Sammy said, waving furiously at every insect that came near her. “Air-conditioning.”

  “Her dress won’t be white,” I reminded Mattie. “Brightbloods dress in red and blue—”

  “Oh yeah yeah yeah, to represent mortal spirit and bright spirit together. I knew that, I just forgot. That’s going to be even better! With her white hair, and blue eyes? So amazing I bet!”

  Fatima, watching two birds dancing through a break in the trees, said in her dreamy voice, “I can’t believe they’re still going—” Then her eyes fell on Mattie, and she blushed, looking around her. “Uh, can’t believe how beautiful today is.”

  “I know!” Mattie said, clapping her hands. “It is perfect!”

  I understood what Fatima had meant to say. It was both strange and wonderful that Pete and Vee were still getting married today. The two had actually tried several times to postpone the date out of consideration for Mattie’s grief, not to mention the chaos that had ensued following the attempted genocide of the Fey, the complete overturning of the regional Arcana Ruling Council, the uncertainty of the Silver Archon’s status, and the recovery from a probing attack on the Elwha steading by some Shadows brightbloods.

  But Mattie’s own enthusiasm about the wedding had overridden their fears, and the general consensus seemed to be that a joyous celebration of love and the joining of two futures together was exactly what everyone needed right now.