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The Prince of Two Tribes

Page 9

by Sean Cullen


  “Such a nice family you ’ave. Even if they are Humans.” She sounded sad. Brendan wondered why. “You’re very lucky to ’ave a family. I think they like me, too.”

  “Don’t get too attached to them,” Brendan said flatly. “You won’t be seeing them again.”

  “You’ve got a lot to learn about relationships,” Charlie said. “You should’ve dumped me before I met the parents.”

  “Just cut it out, will you?”

  “You won’t be getting rid of me so easily.” She grinned.

  “I don’t want you coming around again,” Brendan snapped. “You have no business coming to my home. The place is off limits to your kind.”

  “My kind? And what are you, mon ami? You are just like me. Are you gonna kick yourself out, aussi?”

  Brendan pointed an angry finger at her. “And you can cut out the crappy accent, all right? You’re about as Quebecois as I am.”

  Charlie quirked the corner of her mouth in a half smile. When she spoke again, all traces of an accent were gone. “Okay. Have it your way. For your information, I am from la belle province. I’m what the French Canadians call a lutin.31 I really did come here from Montreal. Ever been, mon ami? It’s fun. Not like tight-assed Toronto.”32

  “No, I’ve never been to Montreal,” he said. “But I wouldn’t mind if you just went back there right now. Besides, Toronto is awesome if you get to know it. But never mind. You can cut the girlfriend crap, okay?”

  “That’s your fault. If you had made if easier, I wouldn’t have had to resort to drastic measures,” Charlie said heatedly.

  “Fine! Tell me then. What are you really doing here?”

  Charlie didn’t speak for a moment. They had just entered the park at the foot of Brendan’s street. She spread her arms and took a deep breath. Exhaling in a frigid cloud, she looked up at the sky. “I don’t really like cities. No stars!” She waited for a couple of joggers to pass them on the path before addressing Brendan’s question. “I’m here for the Clan Gathering. As for why I am coming to your house, I just wanted to get a look at the strange Faerie Prince who’d rather live with Humans than with his own kind.”

  “Well, you’ve seen me, so get lost!”

  “Not so fast.” Charlie smiled, watching the runners huff away into the night. “I kind of like it here. It’s nice to see how the other half lives.”

  “You aren’t welcome here,” Brendan growled. “I’m warning you: you’d better stay away or … else.” Brendan clenched his fists and took a step toward her.

  She laughed her infuriating laugh. “First of all, I really doubt you could make me do anything. Second, if you try, I’ll tell your parents your little secret. Understand?”

  “I’m warning you … ”

  She stood up so swiftly that Brendan barely saw her move. “NO! I’m warning you!” She raised her arms.

  The tattooed animals on her arms stirred and came to life, one by one. The creatures leapt from her skin, swelling in size as they fell to the ground, growing until they ranged before her, dark, shaggy, and steaming in the cold night air. There was a wild boar with wet nostrils and razor-sharp tusks, its massive shoulders hunching as it leaned toward Brendan. Beside the boar stood a stag, its antlers almost tangling in the branches of a tree overhead. Finally, a bear reared up on its muscular haunches, pawing the air with massive claws. All three of the tattoo creatures were an inky, featureless black.

  The animals crowded around Brendan, looming over him and forcing him to backpedal until his back pressed against the rough bark of a tree. He felt their moist, hot breath gusting in his face. The most terrifying feature of the beasts was their eyes. They had no pupils or corneas. Their entire orbs glowed a fierce ruby red. Brendan stole a look at Charlie and saw her eyes blazing with the same eerie crimson. She saw him looking at her and smiled. In her arms she held a black animal with a long, sinewy body, short legs, and a pointy, quivering nose. Its eyes were as bright and red as blood.

  “Well?” Charlie whispered. “What do you say? Are we going to be friends?” She grinned, baring her teeth. The three shadow creatures leaned closer. “Or not?”

  Footsteps sounded on the path.

  As quickly as they had grown, the creatures shrank back and scampered up Charlie’s legs, scrabbling and clawing up her clothing and leaping back into her skin like divers into a pool. Her skin rippled before settling into its former solidity. Only the creature in her arms remained, nose twitching. Another lone jogger approached. He saw Brendan pressed against the tree and slowed slightly, asking Charlie, “You all right, miss? Is this guy bothering you?”

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  The runner nodded and, with a stern look at Brendan, continued into the park.

  “What is that?” Brendan whispered. “A weasel?”

  “Ferret,” Charlie corrected. “Though he does come from the weasel family. Don’t you, Tweezers?”

  The thing blinked once and the red eyes shifted to a more natural yellow, staring at Brendan with obvious suspicion and dislike. The ferret suddenly scuttled up Charlie’s arm and coiled around her neck.

  Recovering from his fright, Brendan grunted, “He was asking the wrong person.”

  “You’re afraid of little me?”

  “Shouldn’t I be?”

  Charlie shook her head. “Non. I’m here to help you. If you’ll let me.”

  Brendan shook his head. He didn’t know what to say. She’d keep hounding him until he let her have her way. He turned his attention to the creature on her shoulders. “Ferret, huh? I guess he’s kinda cute,” he conceded. “If it is a he?”

  “Oui, un petit homme,” Charlie said. “His name is Tweezers.” The animal in question chittered loudly as Brendan gently scratched him between the ears. “I think he likes you.”

  “I can see that,” Brendan said. “Where did he come from?”

  “He comes from me. He’s one of my spirit animals. But I will explain all to you some other time. You should be getting home.” She smiled and started to jog off through the park, stopping after a few steps and looking back at him, her eyes slightly sad. “You have a nice family. You should feel very fortunate.”

  “I do.”

  She nodded and started off again.

  “Where are you staying?” Brendan called.

  “Here and there,” came the reply, and then she was gone with a lazy wave of her hand.

  Brendan turned and headed for home. When he arrived, he suffered his parents’ prying questions about his new girlfriend. They were far more excited about the prospect than he was comfortable with. At last, he made his retreat to the attic. Brendan threw himself onto the bed, his head filled with the possible disasters that could arise from Charlie hanging around. He had to find a way to get rid of her.

  At some point he fell asleep, in spite of his worries. With all the bizarre events of the day, he’d failed once again to talk to Harold and Dmitri.

  30 Busking is the art of street performing. In my opinion, busking should be avoided at all costs. If you are a performer, try to perform indoors. First of all, one doesn’t get rained or snowed on. Second, there’s usually a stage or some other sort of platform to perform from. Third, any performer who plays for spare change and the odd half-sandwich from a passerby is not really a performer at all, although I read about an eccentric French pop star who only accepts payment in the form of bacon baguettes.

  31 The term lutin is an ancient French name for Fair Folk. The word isn’t used in France anymore, but medieval farmers brought it with them to Eastern Canada when they settled New France. Lutins are reputed to be mischievous and playful, causing minor problems like curdling milk or tipping cows in the night.

  32 Toronto does have a reputation for being a little bit stuffy and boring, but only among people who’ve never actually been there.

  NIGHT RUNNING

  Brendan felt he had barely closed his eyes when the covers were torn from his bed. He drew in breath to shout, but a hand clamped
over his mouth. Panic flooded his body with adrenaline. Without thinking, he tapped into his warp powers, grabbing the wrist of his attacker and flipping the person to the ground. He pinned his foe face down on the wooden floor.

  “Hey! Relax, will you?” Charlie’s voice sounded pained. She struggled against Brendan’s grip but he held tight. She may have been small but her muscles were like steel. It was like pinning an eel.

  “What are you doing here?” Brendan released her arm and stood up. The warp reflexes were already fading. His limbs quivered as the adrenaline drained from his system. He stepped aside and allowed Charlie to sit up. “I thought I was done with you for the night.”

  “I see you have some warp skills,” she said, straightening her shirt. “Impressive.”

  Brendan wouldn’t be distracted. “Yeah, whatever. What are you doing here? This is my room.”

  “You’re really uptight, you know? This is my room! This is my house. This is my family. You should listen to yourself,” Charlie said, clicking her tongue. “You have serious selfishness issues.”

  “Whatever. I’ll ask you again, what are you doing in my room?”

  “It’s nice. Cozy, even if it does smell a little bit. And as I said, I like your family. I’ve been looking in on them. All of them are sleeping, peaceful. It’s quite beautiful.”

  Brendan went cold at the thought of Charlie with her spirit animals stalking through the house in the dark, looming over his sleeping parents. He studied her face in the moonlight.

  “Don’t ever do that again,” Brendan said evenly, with all the menace he could muster.

  Charlie cocked her head and looked at him as if she suddenly understood that wandering around people’s houses at night was frowned upon.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt them. I told you, I like them.”

  “Who cares if you like them? You shouldn’t even be here! I have one rule: my Human family is off limits. I let everyone know that.”

  Charlie looked out the open window at the dark backyard. “Oh, yes. I’ve heard the rule. But I chose to ignore it. I thought you’d appreciate that.” She turned her head to look at him, the contours of her smirk etched in moonlight. “After all, you break our rules daily. You chose your Human family over your own people.”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “It is my business. I’m a Faerie. That makes it my business. But there’s no reason to get all defensive. I like you, Brendan. And we actually have a lot in common.”

  “We have nothing in common!” He realized he was almost shouting and lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “Just get to the point.”

  “I got to thinking after we split up in the park. I thought you should get out and see what you’re missing. There’s a whole world you’re not experiencing.”

  “I’ll experience it in the morning,” Brendan whispered. “Now get out!”

  “I’m going out and you’re coming with me.”

  “What? It’s two in the morning! Where could we possibly go?”

  Charlie smiled mischievously. “There’s plenty to see at night. We are the People of the Moon, after all.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, I’m not really interested in going out in the middle of the night. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll get some sleep.”

  “Sleep?” Charlie scoffed. “You’re a Faerie! You don’t need to sleep. You’ve been living with Humans too long.”

  “Keep your voice down!” Brendan hissed, cocking an ear for the sound of his parents stirring below. There was no sound, save for the creaking of the house and the dull hum of a car passing by. “I know I don’t need sleep. I like sleep. And I’d like some right now.” Brendan had become aware through spending time with his new Faerie friends and family that Faeries didn’t require sleep the way Humans did. Instead, they entered a meditative state for as long as they needed to restore their strength. Like all the new Disciplines Brendan was struggling to learn, a meditative state was hard for him to reach and, once in it, hard to maintain. It was another failure in a long list, but he wasn’t about to reveal his shortcomings to Charlie.

  “Forget it! We’re going out!” She grabbed Brendan’s arm and hauled him across the floor. Now it was his turn to be manhandled against his will.

  “Let go of me!” Brendan said, trying to pull away as she dragged him to the window. She may have been slight but she was incredibly strong: her grip was like a vise around his wrist. In spite of his greater height and weight, she dragged him inexorably across the floorboards.

  At that moment, BLT streaked in through the open window and jerked to a stop in front of Charlie’s face. “Who are you?” she demanded. “And where are you taking Brendan?” She raised her little fists in a challenge.

  “Oho!” Charlie laughed. “Qui est? Une petite pugiliste! Tweezer!”

  The ferret slithered from beneath Charlie’s hoodie and curled protectively around the girl’s neck, baring its teeth.

  “Uh-oh!” BLT backpedalled in the air as the furry creature hissed at her.

  “Leave her alone,” Brendan demanded in a harsh whisper.

  “Worry about yourself, mon ami!” She grabbed Brendan by the front of his T-shirt with both hands and flung him out the window.

  “Brendan!” BLT cried, zipping out after him like a tiny comet.

  Brendan barely had time to marvel at the strength required to lift him from the floor before he realized he was falling. Again, his body instinctively kicked into high gear. He could feel every cell fizzing as he phased into warp time. He twisted himself in mid-air, kicking out with one bare foot against the brick wall of the house as it unreeled beside him. The impact spun him around so that he landed on his feet with a soft thud in the backyard. The snow crunched under his feet. The shock of the ice on his bare soles made him yelp, even with the resistance to the cold afforded him by his Faerie blood. He felt every flake of snow and blade of frozen grass beneath, a sensation that he had yet to become used to or tired of, for that matter.

  BLT streaked down from above and clutched at his shoulder. “What’s the idea, leaving me at the mercy of that rabid beast!”

  “I hardly had a choice!”

  “Still, nice landing.”

  “Thanks,” Brendan muttered, his breath clouding the air. The night was cold but he felt no discomfort, even dressed in a threadbare Arcade Fire T-shirt and flannel pyjama pants. He looked down and cursed softly when he saw a hole torn in the knee.

  There was a soft rustling sound as Charlie alighted beside him. She had taken the less dramatic route down, scurrying like her ferret, Tweezer, down the brick wall of the house. The ferret was nowhere to be seen.

  “What is your damage?” Brendan hissed angrily.

  “Chill, Brendan,” she said lightly.

  “Chill? You pushed me out a window!”

  “Do you always state the obvious? What a wonderful night to be alive, non?”

  “My pyjamas are ripped,” Brendan complained.

  “Tabarnac! They’re pyjamas. Big deal! Stop whining like a little bébé.”

  “You don’t get it. Nothing you do has consequences. You don’t have to explain anything to anyone. I’ll have to explain this to my mum! How am I supposed to keep my nature a secret when you show up and start rubbing my parents’ noses in it? I’m trying to keep a low profile.”

  “You are not just hiding from your family. You are hiding from yourself.” Her eyes fell. “And for your information, I am not so free as you imagine.” Brightening, she clapped her hands. “Tonight, there is no one to hide from. Tonight, we enjoy who we really are. Come on!”

  Before Brendan could protest, she grabbed his hand and pulled him away.

  “Whoa!” BLT tumbled from Brendan’s shoulder, righted herself, and streaked off in pursuit.

  Brendan was once again awed by Charlie’s incredible strength. He had no choice but to try to keep up. They ran full speed at the back fence, a wooden barrier, easily three metres tall. Charlie gathered herself and leap
t, clearing it easily, while Brendan had to place one foot on the top to vault over. They sped down the back alley, flashing by dark yards and garages. A family of raccoons crowded around an overturned trash can watched them pass.

  They burst out of the alley and into the street. Charlie didn’t slow at all. A cab, trawling along Dundas Street for a fare, was the only sign of life. Charlie sped across the wet pavement, lightly stepped onto the hood, and somersaulted over the car. Brendan followed her, noting the alarmed face of the cabdriver who belatedly slammed on the brakes. The angry echo of the taxi’s horn followed them under the bare branches of the trees of Trinity Bellwoods Park.

  Brendan had never been in the park in the wee hours of the morning. The moonlight sparkled on the frost rimed limbs of the trees, spread like bony fingers bereft of their summer foliage. With surprise, Brendan realized that Charlie wasn’t pulling him anymore. Somewhere on the street she had released him, and now he was warp running without any awareness of doing so. He couldn’t help but laugh with delight as his feet barely grazed the snowy blanket that covered the park. Searching ahead, he saw that Charlie was in front of him, bounding across the open snow like a deer in great, ground-eating strides. In fact, as he watched her, he thought he could almost see the shadowy shape of a deer surrounding her as she moved. Brendan grinned. He decided he was going to have to show her up. He threw his head back and picked up his pace.

  The world slowed as he warped deeper, faster. He caught up with her on a flat, open space just past the baseball diamond.

  “Is that all you got?” Brendan called.

  Charlie glanced over her shoulder. Her look of dismay was gratifying. Brendan put on another burst and made to pass her.

  “Uh-uh-uh!” she scolded. Deftly, she tapped his heel. Brendan’s feet tangled and he fell hard. His speed sent him sliding wildly, spinning, unable to stop himself as he dug a furrow in the freezing snow. He stuck out his hands to stop himself. Looking up, he was alarmed to see a row of trees approaching. He knew he wasn’t going to stop in time. All he could do was cover his face with his forearms and hope his injuries wouldn’t be life-threatening.

 

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