He Said, Sidhe Said

by Tanya Huff

  "I'm guessing fish poo."

  "And you'd be right."

  "Eww."

  "But something else, too." Tucking the flashlight under her chin, Diana grabbed onto a rock with her left hand and snaked her right down into the crack. "Almost..."

  "If you lose that hand, are you still going to be able to use a can opener?"

  "I'm not going to lose the hand!"

  "I'm just asking."

  Sharp edges of rock dug into her arm as she forced her hand deeper, her jacket riding up away from her wrist. One fingertip touched... something. Even such a gentle pressure moved whatever it was away. A little further. Another touch. She managed to finally hook it between her first two fingers.

  "Uh, Diana, about that sea serpent..."

  "What about it?" She'd have to move her arm slowly and carefully out of the crack, or she'd lose whatever she was holding.

  "It's either heading this way from the other side of the wreck, or the Navy's running a submarine in the Great Lakes."

  "I pick option B."

  "And you'd be wrong."

  Time to yank; she could always pick the thing up again. Unfortunately, a sharp tug didn't free her arm. Bright side, she managed to hang onto the thing. Not-so-bright side, approaching sea serpent.

  Wait! If her arm was stuck, then she didn't need to hold the rock, and if she didn't need to hold the rock...

  She grabbed the flashlight and aimed the beam toward the wreck, hoping it would be enough. Pulling power from the Possibilities over a hole would not be smart. There were worse things than lake monsters out beyond the edges of reality.

  Framed between two rotting timbers, green eyes flashed gold in the light. Mouth gaping, the sea serpent folded back on itself and fled, the final flick of its triangular tail knocking a bit of board off the wreck.

  "Looks bigger up close," Diana noted, trying to remember how to breathe.

  "You think!" Sam snarled, paws and tail thrashing as he bobbed about in currents stirred up by the creature's passage.

  "Maybe it was just curious."

  "Sure it was. Because you get that big eating plankton!"

  "Whales do."

  "Some whales do, and that was not a whale! That was a predator. I know a predator when I see one!"

  Diana tucked the flashlight back under her chin and reached out to stroke the line of raised hair along Sam's spine – the Possibility that allowed them to move and breathe underwater granting the touch. "You're shouting."

  He speared her with an amber gaze. "I don't want to be eaten by a sea serpent."

  "Who does?"

  "Who cares?" he snapped. "The point is, I don’t. Let's get that hole closed and get back on dry land before I'm a canapé."

  Diana had to admit he had a point, although she admitted it silently rather than give him more ammunition for complaints. The serpent was about ten metres long and almost a meter in diameter. A five-kilo cat would be barely a mouthful. The sooner she got the hole closed, the better.

  Carefully, but as quickly as she could, she worked her right hand out of the crack and, when it was finally free, dropped a fragment of bone into the palm of her left.

  "The graveyard of Lake Ontario," Sam noted solemnly, his cinnamon nose nearly touching her hand. "There's more than just ships at rest down here."

  "Not every body washed ashore," Diana agreed, with a sigh. "I'm betting there's more of this body down in that crevice."

  "You think it got smashed and that's what made the hole?"

  "I think someone – probably someone diving around the wreck – smashed it deliberately, and that's what made the hole."

  "You need to get the rest of the bone out."

  It wasn't a question, but she answered it anyway. "I do."

  "Great. Considering how long the first piece took, we're going to be down here forever, and that serpent's going to come back, and it's going to be kitties and bits. You're the bits," he added.

  "Thanks, I got that. You're not usually this fatalistic."

  "Hello? Lake monster. Cat at the bottom of Lake Ontario."

  "You worry too much. Now that I've got one piece out, I can call the rest to it. It'll be fast." She held the hand holding the bone out over the crack and Called. Other fragments floated up, danced in the water, and, after a moment or two, formed most of a human jaw.

  Suddenly conscious of being watched, Diana whirled around to see a herring hanging in the water. "What?"

  Silver sides flashing, it swam about two metres away then stopped, turned, and continued staring.

  "Is that your friend from before?"

  "We're not friends," Sam snorted. "Get on with it."

  Diana studied the jaw. "There's a tooth missing."

  Sam looked from the curved bone to the Keeper. "A tooth?"

  "Okay, a bunch of teeth and the rest of the skeleton, but right here... see where the reformed jaw is a different shade?" She touched it lightly with the tip of one finger. "There was a tooth in there until recently. Whoever did this cracked the jaw and took the tooth."

  "Why?"

  "People'll notice if you come up from a dive with most of a jaw, but you can hide a tooth."

  Sam licked his shoulder thoughtfully, frowned when his tongue made no impression on his fur because of the Possibilities keeping him dry, and finally said, "Cats don't care about the things we leave behind."

  "People do. Disturbing a body – even one this old – in order to get a souvenir is illegal, immoral, and kind of gross. So, now we have a problem."

  "The lake monster."

  "No."

  Before she could continue, Sam shifted so he was almost vertical in the water and pointed upwards with one front paw. "Yes!"

  A long line of undulating darkness passed between them and the surface, turned, and passed again a little closer.

  "Okay, problems. Plural. I need the tooth to close the hole."

  "Great." Sam kept his eyes on the serpent, now one pass closer. "So call it."

  Diana reached out and grabbed him as the lashing of his tail propelled him upwards. "Two problems with that. One, it might be locked away and not able to move freely, and, two, we don't know how far away it is. Staying down here indefinitely is really not an option. We need to go to it."

  "And?"

  "And that's not a problem: given that we've got the rest of the jaw, we'll just follow it. The problem is, I can't pull from the Possibilities this close to the hole."

  "So we leave and come back another day. And when I say we come back," Sam amended, as he wriggled free and started swimming toward shore, "I mean you."

  Diana grabbed him again. "Did I mention that the serpent has to go back through the hole before I close it? If we leave and come back, the serpent could be anywhere, not to mention that another serpent – or worse – could come through."

  "You're just full of good news."

  "But, I have a plan."

  "Oh, joy."

  "You won't like it."

  He sighed. "Why am I not surprised?"

  "I'm going to use the Possibilities that are keeping us dry and breathing."

  "There's a problem with that." He squirmed around until he looked her in the face. "They're keeping us dry and breathing."

  "We take a deep breath, and the next instant we'll be standing by the missing tooth."

  "That doesn't sound so bad."

  "We'll just be a little wet."

  "When you say a little, you mean..."

  "Completely."

  He locked his claws in her jacket. "No."

  "Would you rather be eaten by the lake monster?"

  Sam glanced toward the surface. The serpent was close enough that Diana could see the broad band of lighter-brown scales around its neck. It seemed to be picking up speed with each pass, confidence growing as nothing opposed it.

  "Sam?"

  "I'm thinking."

  There were teeth visible just inside the broad mouth. Rather too many teeth, in Diana's opinion. Rather too ma
ny teeth suddenly facing them. And closing fast. Really, really fast. "Take a deep breath, Sam."

  "I don't..."

  "Now!"

  And they were standing, dripping, in a basement workshop, the room barely lit by two low windows.

  "I'm wet!" Claws breaking through denim to skin, Sam leapt out of Diana's arms and raced around the room, spraying water from his sodden fur. "Wet! Wet! Ahhhhh! Wet!" Tail clamped tight to his body, he disappeared under the lower shelf of the workbench.

  "Oh for..." Far enough from the hole that all Possibilities were open to her, Diana reached. "There. Now, you're dry."

  "I'm still sitting in a puddle," came a disgruntled voice from under the bench.

  "So move." Taking her own advice, Diana stepped out of a puddle of her own and held out the jaw. "Can you hear that?"

  "I have water in my ears."

  "Sam!"

  "Fine." He crawled out from under the bench, shook, and sat, head cocked. "I hear tapping."

  "Can you find it?"

  The look he shot her promised dire consequences.

  "I'm sorry. Would you find it? Please." Not a compulsion, just a polite request. Compelling cats had much the same success rate as Senate reform, which was to say, none at all.

  The tooth was in a small plastic box, tucked inside a red, metal tool box, shoved to the back of an upper shelf.

  "What's the point of having a souvenir no one can see?" Sam wondered as the tooth settled back into the jaw with an audible click.

  "I guess the point's having it. Let's go."

  "In a minute." He walked over to where a full wet suit hung on the wall, neoprene booties lined up neatly under it. Tail held high, he turned around.

  "What are you doing?"

  He looked up at her like she was an idiot. In fairness, it was a stupid question.

  "Good aim," she acknowledged when he finished. "I just hope they don't have a cat that can be blamed when he puts that boot on next."

  "They don't."

  "You really got upset about him taking that tooth," she murmured, bending and scooping him up.

  "Please," he snorted, settling into the crook of her arm. "I got wet!"

  "Who are you?"

  She stared at Sam, who shrugged in an unhelpful manner, then turned toward the piping voice.

  A little girl, no more than five, stood in the open doorway, half hanging off the door knob. Behind her, a rec room; empty but for a scattering of brightly-coloured toys.

  Diana glanced down at the jaw and smiled. "I'm the tooth fairy," she said, reached into the Possibilities, and allowed the bone to pull them back to the wreck.

  The serpent was nowhere in sight, but since they hadn't been gone long, she figured it hadn't gone far. The trick would be getting it to come back.

  "Sam! What are you doing?"

  He paused, up on his hind legs, front claws embedded in a squared piece of timber. "Is that a trick question?"

  "Just stop it."

  "Fine." Sighing, he swam back over beside her. "Now what?"

  "We need to lure the serpent back through the hole before I can close it."

  "I refuse to be bait."

  "I wasn't going to ask."

  "Good."

  She nodded at the lone herring watching from the shelter of the wreck. "I need you to talk to your friend."

  "It's a fish."

  "So?"

  "It's not a friend, it's food."

  "So you can't talk to it."

  Whiskers bristled indignantly. "I didn't say that!"

  "I need you to ask it to get a school together, get the serpent's attention, lure it back here, and peel away at the last minute so that the serpent goes through the hole rather than hitting the rock."

  Sam stared at her. "You want me to convince fish to be bait? Why don't I just convince them to roll in breadcrumbs and lie down under a broiler?" The darker orange markings on his forehead formed a 'w' as he frowned. "Actually, that's not a bad idea."

  "If they do this, the serpent will be gone, and they'll be a lot safer."

  "Provided he doesn't catch them and eat them."

  "I'm not saying there isn't a risk. Just try."

  As Sam swam over to the herring, Diana slid her backpack around onto her lap and undid the zipper. She needed something that would write under water on slippery, algae-covered rock. Pens, pencils, markers, bag of biodegradable kitty litter, litter box, six cans of cat food, two cat dishes, box of crackers, peanut butter, pyjamas, clean jeans, socks, underwear, laptop; nothing that would work. The outside pockets held her cellphone, a bottle of slightly redundant water, and... a nail file. Possibly...

  "She wants you to sweeten the deal."

  "She does?" Diana glanced over at the herring. "How?"

  "She wants you to get rid of the fish that suck the life out of other fish."

  "There's vampire fish in this lake?" All at once, the dark corners under the rocks looked a little darker.

  "Get real. They're called sea lampreys. They came into the lake after World War II and decimated the native populations. TVO special on the Great Lakes," he added when Diana blinked at him.

  "Decimated?"

  "It means ate most of."

  "I know what it means."

  "Hey, you asked," he snorted. "What do you say? They're not supposed to be here, no one would miss them, and you can't lure the serpent without herring co-operation. She just wants her fry to be safe." He paused and licked his lips.

  "You're thinking about fried fish, aren't you?"

  "Yeah."

  "Well, stop." If she gave the herring what she wanted, Diana knew there'd be consequences. More healthy, native species of fish in the lake, for one thing. Actually, more healthy, native species of fish in the lake was about the only thing. She couldn't see a down side – which was always vaguely unsettling.

  "You can't do it, can you?"

  "Of course I can do it." It was disconcerting that her cat was using the same argument on her that she'd used on him. "Technically, as a Keeper, if I'm asked for help to right a wrong, I can't refuse. Sea lampreys in the lake seem to be definitely a wrong."

  "So what's the problem?"

  "I'm not sure fish were included under that rule."

  "Very anti-ichthyoid of you."

  "Anti what? Never mind." She waved off his explanation. "You're watching way too much television. Okay, tell her I'll do it, but it has to be after the hole is closed, I can't access the Possibilities until then."

  "She wants to know why she should trust you."

  Diana glanced over at the herring. "Because I'm one of the good guys."

  "She only has your word for that."

  "Sam!"

  "Okay, okay, she didn't say that. You get to work; I'll convince her you're trustworthy."

  "Thank you." Setting the jaw bone carefully aside, Diana began to scratch the definitions of the accident site onto the rocks around the hole with the point of her nail file, the algae just thick enough for it to leave a legible impression.

  "Incoming!"

  "I'm almost done."

  "Maybe you don't quite understand what incoming means," Sam shouted as the first herring whacked into her shoulder.

  Diana scrambled to get the last definition drawn in the midst of a silver swirl of fish and dove out of the way in the instant of clear water that followed.

  Given a choice between diving face first into rock or returning back where it had come from, the serpent chose the second, less painful, option.

  The instant the tip of its wedge-shaped tail disappeared, Diana grabbed the definitions and slammed the hole closed. When she looked up, three dozen silver faces stared back at her, all wearing the same expectant expression. Well, probably expectant; it was surprisingly hard to judge expression on a fish.

  "Okay, okay, give me a minute to catch my breath." She tested the seal on the hole and reached into the Possibilities. Turned out there were a lot of sea lamprey in the lake, and over half of them had to be remo
ved from living prey.

  "Where'd you put them?" Sam spun around in a slow circle, lazily sculling with his tail.

  "I dropped them in the Mid-Atlantic."

  "There are sharks in the Mid-Atlantic."

  "So?"

  "Sharks eat lampreys."

  "Sharks eat Volkswagens. What's your point?"

  "We've been down here for hours, we missed lunch, and I'm hungry. Can we go now?"

  "In a minute, I have one more thing to do."

  It was only a part of a jaw bone, but once it had been a part of a man who'd sailed the lakes.

  Diana set the bone down beside the wreck and waited.

  He hadn't been very old. Under his knit cap, his hair was brown, long enough to wisp out over his ears, and there was a glint of red in his bad teenage moustache. He wore faded blue pants with a patch on one knee. His heavy sweater looked a little too big for him, but that may have been because he was wearing it over at least one other sweater, maybe two. At some point, not long before he'd died, he'd whacked the index finger on his left hand, leaving the nail black and blue.

  Pulling the two copper coins from her pocket, Diana bent and laid one on each closed eye. "To pay the ferryman," she said, feeling Sam's unasked question. "He's been in the water long enough, I think he'd like to be back on it."

  A heartbeat later, there was only the wreck and the rocks.

  The coins and the jaw bone were gone.

  "Now, can we go?"

  Diana slung her backpack over one shoulder and picked up the cat with her other hand. "Yes. Now we can go."

  * * * *

  Carol Diamond was standing on the shore when she came out of the water. Her eyes were wide and her mouth worked for a moment before any sound emerged. "You went... you were... in the..."

  "I went wading."

  "Wading?"

  "Yes. You saw me wading. Then I came out of the water..." Diana stepped over the ridge of zebra mussel shells and set Sam down on the gravel. "...and I rolled down my jeans and put my shoes and socks back on."

  White curls bounced as she shook her head. "You were under the water!"

  "Couldn't have been. I'm completely dry."

  "But you..."

  "But I what?" Diana held the older woman's gaze.

  "You went wading?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "But that water must be freezing!"

  "I hardly felt it."