She smiled, squeezing back. "Thanks, but I'm not even entirely sure what good luck would be. This is probably a pretty stupid thing to do. I mean, first, dealing with yet more faerie things, and inviting one into my head, or my dreams, or something. And for what... to go deal with a bunch of General Inwar's dark reflections?"
"You've managed rather well so far."
"With a lot of help from my friends."
"And we'll always be there." he assured her.
Megan nodded, reluctantly letting go, and started to settle into a spot at the base of a large tree, once she found one with knotholes she supposed might be good for squirrels. Justin returned to his spot standing sentry.
“So you're sure you want to try right now?” Megan asked.
“This place has a great connection to Mab,” Ashling said. “And there's no time like the present.”
“Well, I could certainly use the sleep.”
And so Megan sang her standard lullaby until she drifted off mid-line. Scarcely had she done so, however, when she felt tiny hands poking her awake.
“Ah! What?” Megan asked.
“Wrong level of sleep,” Ashling said.
“Did you even give it a minute?” Megan asked.
“Pixie. I know when I'm going the wrong way.”
“Okay, so do we try again?”
“I think we try another lullaby. Get out the book.”
They got out the book, but when Ashling found the page she was thinking of, both their faces fell.
“Darn,” Megan said. “F#. Do we want to try some other lullabies? There have to be some."
"Sure, there are some. But some of those can lead to the wrong kind of sleep."
“How wrong? Still not deep enough?”
"Could be plenty deep enough. Like the Sleeping Beauty kind, which I might mention is totally different than the Rip Van Winkle kind. And if you really do ever have to take one or the other, go for Sleeping Beauty. Spinning can be very productive even in the age of modern textiles, and you'd look terrible with a beard. And those are just for starters."
"But none of the other lullabies are going to help me?"
"You're not really looking for a medicinal sleep, or to put hostiles to sleep, or going for a dreamless sleep, or any of that. You want the kind of sleep that takes you right into the deeper dreams. Like the kind that give ancient mystic insight or a proper understanding of Jefferson Airplane."
"So, we need to adapt this song, or find another that will definitely work?"
"As much as I adore Queen Mab and weird dreams, this is not something you want to mess up. Honestly, I'm feeling nervous even adapting it. When that—” Ashling briefly interrupted herself to rattle off her favorite terms for O'Neill in various languages before resuming. “—made fun of your counterspell dirge, it didn't matter, because we didn't care what he thought. Mab is different. In any case, let's try to take the time to do it right."
“You know,” said Megan. “Sometimes a note can be substituted with overtones. Barbershop quartets do it, Mom says. If you have enough of the right notes, they can sort of manufacture another.”
“Well, you're the only bard we have right on hand, and that's not really going to work singing by yourself,” Ashling said.
Megan nodded, thought, and smiled slowly. “What about singing with myself? I need to talk to my mom.”
Chapter 22: Harmony
"Mom, can you help me with a project?"
Megan was glad that Lani had intercepted Kerr's cake decorator, who'd attended class on Megan's behalf, before two Megans could come home. Lani could afford to have been 'out sick' that day—had it really been only a day?
"Sure, honey." Sheila seemed rather pleased to be asked. For the first time Megan could remember, she actually set apparent work documents aside—after carefully labeling them with a sticky note. "What do you need help with?"
“Well, there's this song I want to try, but...” Megan wondered if she should tell her the truth. But no. There was no time to deal with all the fallout and still get help with the song. She blushed. “This is embarrassing, but you know how sometimes it's kind of hard to hit some of those mid-range notes when you switch from chest voice to head voice?”
“Oh, sweetie, I've thought a couple of times that you might be having issues,” her mother said. “Once or twice, I've heard you cough mid-song. Don't worry. It's very normal.”
“Yeah,” Megan said sheepishly. The embarrassment didn't have to be faked. Her mother's observation was another reminder that Megan had kept up a lot of surrounding deceptions, maybe longer than she'd needed to. Plus it was embarrassing to have forgotten what songs she couldn't sing. “I'm having trouble with the middle F#. And I was remembering what you said about harmonies and overtones.”
“Why are you asking me and not the school choir, sweetie?” her mother asked, but she looked very happy that Megan had come to her.
“Because it's not a good choral song. I want to sing it with myself. Still ready to mess around with the recording software?”
“Sure!”
Megan went through the song four times, doing her best to have each 'take' pitched to harmonize with the others to compensate for her musical handicap. Her mother did her best to balance coaching her through it with, Megan slowly realized, trying not to stage-mother too hard. After a decade of being afraid of Megan's going near music, her mother was having to try to avoid the other extreme.
Once they had the four versions, Sheila spent a while playing with the software. There were a few glances at the work being left undone next to it, but she remained focused on the project at hand. After some mixing, she shook her head, and asked for what turned out to be four more takes.
The next time around, she seemed satisfied with the results, playing it back for Megan. Even though she was consciously aware that without Bardic magic and intent backing it, it shouldn't have any real effect, Megan struggled to not yawn as it played. She decided to assume that was a good sign.
"I think that's perfect, thank you!"
"You're welcome, honey. Anything else you want to talk about?" Sheila glanced towards her work station and looked back to Megan, concerned. "Besides musical projects, you're keeping up with the rest of your schoolwork, right?"
"Don't worry, Mom. I'm keeping up with everything." Or she was keeping up with the portions she was there for, while hoping that all of the brownies were as good at handling her schoolwork as Kerr was. She felt a little guilty, both for lying to her mother, and for having someone else handling her work, but she was also pretty certain that saving the world ranked ahead of attendance.
"Okay, I'm glad Lani and Justin have been so much help with your homework. Have they decided what they're doing next?"
Megan was pretty sure that it was an attempt to bring up college again without pushing too hard or being too obvious about it. "Lani is going to UW. She looked at a bunch of engineering programs all over the country and could have gotten into any of them, but she wants to stay close to family." At least it was something she could comfortably tell the truth about.
"I know the Kahales are close. It's nice to hear she'll be able to see them whenever she wants." Megan was a little surprised, both at her mother not immediately pushing to get to suggesting they could be roommates, and the slightly wistful tone at mention of families being close.
Megan got up and hugged her mother. "Thank you for the help with the music. I'm not sure what I'm doing yet, but I'll let you know when I am, I promise. But whatever it is, I want to stay close."
Sheila relaxed, and hugged her daughter back. "Thank you, Megan. But you only answered half of the question. Do you know what your young man is going to do? He's getting his GED, right?"
Megan blushed. "I don't know about him being my young man, but things are going okay."
Sheila laughed and shook her head. "You've been dating almost a year. I'm glad things are at least okay."
"Like I said, Mom, he's really old fashioned. And I'm sti
ll really okay with that. We're doing pizza pretty regularly. He still isn't sure what to make of the Seattle Art Museum, but he's pretty creative in other ways. Mrs. Kahale's pottery is getting better by good example.”
“And he's staying there? Staying local.”
“For the foreseeable future, yes.” Megan had the advantage that her boyfriend couldn't move away because he was also feudally attached to her. “He really fits in at the Kahales.”
“Good. I'm glad to see you two are doing so well. He's really coming along with the bass. Do...do you two ever...jam a little, when you're at Lani's?”
“No, no,” Megan hurried to reassure, like she had so many times a year before. “Nothing serious, nothing rock-band-like.”
“I...Megan I'm not...” Her mother sighed. “I can't say thinking of your getting involved in the music scene beyond school doesn't still make me nervous. I made mistakes. I made a lot of mistakes when I was younger. I want to try to look out for you. But you have a talent. A very real talent, and I want to nurture that. I've always been so worried about so many things, but I see you with the nice, responsible boy, and working so hard, and I realize, I need to maybe try to trust you a little more. Because I'd always tried not to make you afraid the way I was. I don't think I managed that too well. I'm sorry I haven't always been a very good mother."
Megan took a few moments, tears welling up in her eyes, trying to figure out what to say. Finally, she just hugged her mother for a long time. She wanted to tell her everything right then, but there was just too much running through her mind to figure out where to start. "Thank you, Mom. I love you. And I want to have a long talk about a lot of things. Including Justin and music and...way too much else. But I really need to do something first, okay?" She finally managed.
Sheila looked a little confused, but nodded. "Okay, honey. I'll be here."
Chapter 23: Shakespeare in the Park
"We couldn't do this at home, in my bed?" Megan asked the pixie, as they moved through the park. Lani and Justin paced some way behind them, intending to stand guard where they wouldn't interrupt. The Count circled above, likewise keeping watch. While there were some quiet places in the park, there was no absolute guarantee of privacy.
"Of course not. We really needed to find someplace really attuned to Mab, to increase the odds she'll notice."
"All of this work to get to the right realm of dreams, or level, or whatever it is, and she might not even notice?"
"The Queen is a busy lady. She has nightmares, prophecies, and cold sores to deliver. I mean, really, if you went to the house of, uhm, someone really busy, like a nurse, or a long-haul driver, or Katy Perry's lawyers, would you just expect them to be there?"
"Okay, no, I guess not. But honestly, does it matter where we start, then, if we're trying to get to a specific place? I'd probably sleep a lot easier in my bed."
"Yes, but we don't want you to sleep easier. We want you to sleep just difficult enough. And meanwhile, increase the chances that Mab or one of her messengers will notice
"And how I sleep changes that?"
"How, where, when... there's other questions, too, but what you sleep is a thing best left to journalists and philosophers.”
Megan sighed and found a large tree, sitting down and settling against it. "Okay, like this?"
"I don't know. Are you getting sleepy?"
"Not really."
"Then my career as a hypnotist is shot,” Ashling said. “Oh well, cue the music!"
Megan turned on the tablet she borrowed from Lani and put the drive with the audio file in. She set the speakers as loud as she could, glad that the others were keeping watch for hikers. She started to sing with the music, adding the bardic magic elements and letting the harmony help cover for the missing note. It took a bit longer than she recalled the last lullaby taking, but eventually, she started to drift.
A squirrel raced over Megan's shoulder, down her jacket, and then across her legs, before scrambling across the grass, causing her to start awake. Megan shivered with the steady breeze, and glanced up into the darkness at the chittering from the tree above. She could only see flickers of movement, flashes of brown, red, and gray, moving through the thick branches, calling and answering.
Greater awareness started to dawn. The squirrels were a lot louder and more numerous. The branches of the tree were much thicker than those of the tree Megan had fallen asleep against. Looking up, the rest of the tree was orders of magnitude bigger, seeming to extend for a mile or more into the sky.
What she first thought was another squirrel turned out to be Ashling climbing up Megan's sleeve to her shoulder. “Now, we should probably be somewhere within the gates of horn. Stay away from the gates of ivory, and definitely stay away from the gates to your junior high school. Those lead to the dream where you're naked in class.”
“What?” said Megan.
"Dreams lead all sorts of places. Which aren't really places, but you've moved through the portals and took the Queen's Road last year, so you know how that works."
"Actually, I really don't."
"Even better," Ashling said. "We're in the right spot, anyway. That tree isn't normally here though, so it must be specific to your dream. The squirrels have also noticed you, so either your mind brought a bunch of squirrels with you, or we're on the right track."
"How will we know which one it is? I think the second one, because I don't normally dream of squirrels. Or not until lately.”
"Start climbing, and once you do, don't look down."
Megan stood, turned, and grabbed the first handholds she could, starting to climb. She'd gotten used to the pixie, when acting as a guide, being very serious when she said things like not opening your eyes on paths between worlds, and assumed not looking down was much the same. Even so, her peripheral vision was no longer perceiving any ground around her, like it had just fallen away when she started climbing.
Despite short arms and legs, instead of riding on Megan's shoulder, Ashling scrambled up the tree more quickly than Megan could, guiding the way. Despite her own warnings, the pixie did look back now and then to check on Megan. After what seemed like an hour of constant upward climb without any sign they were any closer to the top, Ashling gestured for her to halt. Megan pulled herself into a branch to rest. "What's the matter?"
"You're climbing without rhythm."
"I'm almost positive that's something else, Ashling."
"No, really. Listen."
Megan closed her eyes, focusing on the sounds around her. At first, she just heard squirrels and the breeze. After several seconds, though, she heard a metallic clang in the distance. A few seconds later, there was another, then another. The timing was slow and steady, not as random as the other noises.
Megan nodded to the pixie, and started climbing again, trying to time her movements up the tree with the metallic sound. As she did, the noise of the wind became less and less random as well, and she started to recognize notes, as she had from the gates of Findias. She started to hum, trying to piece it together. It was familiar, but it took her a while to place it, before she finally realized she was humming along to the Kahales' favorite song, a folk rendition of Kipling's "Hymn to Breaking Strain." At that realization, the noise shifted from notes on the wind to the sound of guitars picking the tune. There wasn't exactly any sign of the tree having a stereo, but dreams were dreams.
Once she picked up on that, the climbing went far easier. Before long, a couple of squirrels joined in, climbing alongside her, pacing Megan instead of scrambling up ahead of her. Not long after, there were four, and then seven, and then at least a dozen, all climbing up the tree around her and Ashling. Finally, as one, they turned, and moved out along a branch instead of continuing upward. Taking it as a sign, Megan moved over to the branch, which was easily large enough to walk on.
When the squirrels all stopped, standing at attention, Megan paused as well. All of the squirrels dropped to three legs, tucking one under them to tip their bodies in app
roximations of deep bows. When Ashling dropped to one knee and bowed her head, Megan followed Ashling's example, even though she couldn't see any sign of anyone they should be bowing to.
As soon as everyone had taken the more respectful stance, a carriage came tearing down the side of the tree. Eight squirrels served to bear the wheeled vehicle, with four in front, pulling it along, and four tethered to the back, keeping the carriage from tumbling down the tree, as if the vehicle were some odd hybrid of carriage and palanquin.
The tiny vehicle neared, then raced along the side, and then the underside of the branch Megan was standing on, passing beneath her, before the squirrels guided it back around to the top of the branch, in front of the assemblage. Out of the carriage came a figure in a green silk dress over whom Ashling could tower.
The Unseelie King had a voice like chocolate. Queen Mab had a voice like Grandma O'Reilly's red wine.
“You're going the wrong way.”
Chapter 24: Scratch
Following the carriage down the tree, Megan scratched her hand on the bark, just enough to draw blood. “Ouch.”
A nearly-microscopic hand drew back the carriage's gossamer curtain. “Problem, dear?”
“Just a scratch,” Megan said. “But you'd think I'd've hurt myself enough for the week.”
"One occasionally has to decide if the journey is really worth the blood spent in achieving it." Mab said, before a change in the scenery of the tree caught Megan's attention—and prompted Mab to add, "No, no. Not that way."
Megan had to navigate well around a section of tree that was coated in frost, with branches thick with snow and ice... save that the ice didn't reflect, and the snow didn't sparkle. The winter ice and snow her father so loved still had sheen and beauty, amidst the chill. This was all just somehow dead. "Where we go, there's a different kind of chill," Mab said. "Unlike Jotunheim, this will spare your fingers and toes, perhaps, but too long, and your spirit may freeze where you go."
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