by Jim Stein
“No problem.” I smiled and immediately realized it was a mistake. This man did not like me.
“You will sign a contract. All tracks come to me. Nothing gets leaked. Breech any terms and your ass will land in court. Is that clear?”
“I can live with that.” At least I thought I could.
After a few seconds of scowls and silence, I got the hint we weren’t going to shake on it. I backed toward the door and turned to leave.
“I will tell the band,” Manfred declared. “And get the goddam mix right!”
Friendly fellow.
I avoided the VIP mixer and the temptation to spill the good news. Max was happy enough to stretch his legs once the big doofus finished yawning and taking his sweet time waking up. We strolled around the amphitheater enjoying the cool night air and chirping of the hardier bugs. A sweet flowery scent eclipsed the wet rock smell from the nearest waterfall, which could be plainly heard now that the music stopped. I was no expert, but did recall some flowers only bloom at night.
A handful of workers cleaned the seating area and mopped up a few suspicious spills. The crowd might be a mixed bag, but they left the place in good shape. Knots of VIP pass holders still lingered by the door at stage left for their chance to ogle the band. Spent partiers drifted through the fire doors on the other side, making their way home or perhaps to their next event.
Those still waiting clung to their cliques, dark wardrobes never straying to mix with the brightly clad guests. Anna and her friends had enjoyed the hell out of themselves dancing, joking, and having a ball. They were throwbacks to a happier, simpler time, like gypsies or hippies. But those labels seemed inappropriate. These were the flower children of a hundred years ago, spiritually free and bright.
I assumed the other group enjoyed themselves. Why else sit through the concert, not to mention stay to meet the band? But you wouldn’t know it by watching. They had smiled and applauded, but their enthusiasm seemed muted and their actions mechanical compared to the Brights. These brooding fans skulked and whispered, even during the peak of the show. Such a grim crowd, darkly clothed and taking themselves way too seriously.
Enter the mixer. On my right stood clumps of color and darkness, but the outgoing stream on my left wove the two factions together. Not a single group of Brights left without at least one Grim among them, and vice versa. Manfred certainly knew how to break down barriers. Of course, he also seemed plenty proficient at putting them up.
Max growled, ducked under the metal railing behind the seating area, and disappeared into the bushes.
“Leave it alone and get back here!”
I grimaced at the retractable leash in my hand. Max behaved so well I only put him on lead near traffic or strangers. But he was only a dog and easily sidetracked by squirrel and rabbit.
***
Uktena the great serpent shook his head to quell the buzzing. The human music had left his skull throbbing and overwhelmed his highly evolved senses. The sheer volume of the concert surprised him. The ground itself shook as if from a stampede, and the bushes vibrated to the rhythm. Deep pulsing notes from that girl’s stringed instrument had struck and resonated under his breastplate. Neither claw nor weapon penetrated his natural armor so easily.
He yawned and scissored his upper jaw from left to right. Popping and sweet relief came just as a sizable four-legged animal shot past. He froze, head buried in cool leaf litter. The animal slowed and put its nose to the ground.
First their so-called music breached his defenses, and now this. Few sentient beings could track the great serpent. Even fewer desired to. He was the hunter, not the prey. Yet the boy’s furry black animal stalked forward clearly scenting him. Impossible…unless the creature followed the bond Uktena himself established to locate dog and boy. The animal was large for a canine, with powerful jaws and bared teeth.
“Puuupppyyyy.” Uktena let the word drip with a waterfall of saliva.
He rose from concealment to tower over the dog. It had the audacity to look him in the eye. Most creatures meeting the serpent’s gaze immediately succumbed to paralysis. He respected the pet’s tenacity, but there was fear there too just below the surface, straining against the animal’s resolve. Just one little push…
“Ahhhrrrsh-sh-shaa!” Uktena released a combat challenge.
The growl roared up from his gullet, tingling the base of his horns. More vibration than sound, it turned an opponent’s bowels to water, interrupted nerve impulses, and crushed the will to fight. The stubborn animal actually stood his ground for a heartbeat before fear and good judgement prevailed. It yipped high and sweet, spun as if propelled by a great wind, and darted back the way it had come. Uktena gazed fondly after the retreating black ball, chuffing breathy hisses of amusement into the cool air. His tongue flicked and quivered, savoring the animal’s distress. It was good to be The Serpent.
“That wasn’t very nice. I thought you were supposed to be neutral?” The female voice drifted from the hillock behind him.
Uktena recognized the petulant tone, much too disapproving and argumentative for one so small.
“The hound challenged me, little sprite.” He coiled back over himself to glare at Pina. The satisfaction of cowering the dog soured with the realization he had again been caught unawares.
“You need to leave him alone.” Pina wagged her forefinger but had the presence of mind not to look him in the eye. “Maxy is my friend. He sleeps over.”
“What do you want?” His sigh set her blond hair to whipping.
Uktena grew weary of his task. The council usually set him against beasts and beings that threatened the balance. He was well suited for eliminating such threats, but skulking about and “reporting” on the plans of others left a bad scent on his tongue. He and Kokopelli had a long history. Perhaps if he had never mentioned the old man’s interference to the council, he would have been spared involvement.
“Nothing from you.” Pina combed a petite hand through her hair and feigned indifference. Uktena grinned at the way she gulped and how the vein throbbed on the side of her thin, delicate neck. “I’m visiting my friends, and I’ll thank you to refrain from scaring them, silly.”
“Fine. As long as they don’t—”
He ran her words back and glared at the sprite. Pina busily straightened her belt and blue dress, looking everywhere except at him. That was to be expected, but he had a sneaking suspicion this tiny spirit just called him a name.
“Well and good then.” Pina clapped her hands and beamed a smile he grudgingly found endearing. She was such a cute and tasty little morsel. “Did you see that concert, the lights and sounds? What a show!”
“Don’t remind me,” Uktena said, but it was too late.
A great electronic buzz filled his head at the memory. He definitely needed a new line of work.
***
The bushes rustled. Max yipped and shot from the underbrush with his tail tucked tight. He leaned against my legs, eyes full of apology. I half expected to find a porcupine quill sticking from his nose or to be accosted by skunk fumes, but he looked perfectly fine. So much for my big tough hellhound.
I clipped the leash on his collar and headed down to the car. Three people hurried across the parking lot up ahead. Two Grims flanked a girl in blue who looked like…
“Anna!”
“Yes?” She spun, staring without really seeing, then brightened. “Oh… Hi, Ed.”
I eyed the other two. One was a big bald man in his thirties, wearing a long black duster. The woman was closer to Anna’s age, though it was difficult to tell through her black eye shadow and dark lipstick. Neither looked terribly pleased with my intrusion. Anna noticed us sizing each other up. Where were her real friends?
“Ed, this is…” Anna frowned and trailed off.
“Jim Jones and Mary Smith,” the big man rasped with hands at his sides—not quite curled into fists.
Yeah, those names don’t sound made-up. Max gave a warning growl, apparently more confi
dent facing a muscle-bound goon with a pushed in nose than taking on a chipmunk in dark shrubbery. I laid a reassuring hand on his head. Manfred’s questionable magnanimity was stretched thin enough without my dog attacking paying customers.
“What a pretty doggie.” Anna’s face lit up with her earlier childlike wonder as she knelt to hug him.
I winced and kept tight hold of the lead, not liking how the girl planted kisses on Max’s muzzle while he still growled. I needn’t have worried. At Anna’s touch, my pooch turned all tongue. The more he licked, the happier the girl grew. She giggled and nuzzled her face into his thick fur. Her escorts stepped back a pace at the show of affection, and something inside me uncoiled.
“Anna!” A woman called from between cars.
Four people wound their way over. Three were her friends from earlier. I didn’t recognize the fourth, an unassuming girl with dark hair pulled into a bun, black jeans, and a pink top showing from beneath her leather jacket. Unlike the other Grims, her hint of a smile actually touched her eyes.
“Hey, Patty. Where have you been?” Anna pushed Max away and stood, looking much more like the effervescent girl I met earlier.
“We’ve been looking for you! Is this your new friend?” The curly haired Bright huffed in a sort of exasperated relief and slipped me a coy wink from behind her wire-rimmed glasses. “Come on, baby girl, we need to get going.”
“You’re right.” Anna ruffled Max’s fur and gave me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, hope to see you at the next stop.”
Her three friends and their new acquaintance from the mixer walked Anna away as she waved goodbye. One Grim in a group didn’t threaten my sensibilities. Anna’s would-be escorts faded into the shadows, sparing a glare for me and a pointed look for the retreating group. I swear the new girl nodded back.
The last of the fans left just before midnight while the crews finished their cleanup. Manfred let the band know about the reversal. I could tell because they all were speaking to me again, even Quinn who sheepishly gave me a goodnight kiss on the cheek.
Burnt out by socializing, everyone retired to their respective quarters. Someone left cots and blankets in one of the offices for Piper and me. Max’s big memory-foam bed went between us because it was only fair to share that wonderful canine snoring and flatulence.
“What do you make of all this?” I asked my sister.
“The music was awesome.” Piper stretched out on her cot, using a wadded up jacket as a pillow. “I like how Billy has them alternate between the original album and their new stuff.”
“They did rock.” My steepled fingers played across the ceiling tiles as giant shadows cast by our portable lamp. “And Manfred?”
“Manny’s okay,” Piper said with a bit too much enthusiasm. “Did you know he plays guitar? He’d rather be on stage than managing. I think it’s giving him an ulcer.”
“He tried to cancel the tour!”
“The guy’s under a lot of stress.” Piper shrugged, and I turned back to watching my hand shadows. “Admit it, you pulled a boner move tonight… plus he hates you.”
“I knew it!” Of course to be fair I hated him right back.
“Is my poochy-woochy all tired out from his big day?” That wasn’t Piper.
I clonked my head on the aluminum bedframe as I swung around to look. Pina lay curled up with Max, her head squished against his right ear and arms around his neck. My dog let out a long, satisfied sigh and tucked in tight.
“Blue looks good on you.” Piper bent down to finger the sprite’s dress. “Silk?”
“Yep, all natural.” Pina beamed.
If I wasn’t careful, my sister would have the forest sprite wearing makeup and high heels. For now she still wore sensible wood and leather boots. An urge to pump her for information swept over me. I wanted her opinion on the shadows stalking people in the ruins, about the leather-winged things back in New Philly’s wind storm, and why Koko had been so keen to get a hold of Ralph. But Koko warned me not to “bother” her with such things. His words had been mild, but his meaning clear—keep Pina out of it.
“Did you see the show?” I asked instead.
“Love, love, loved it! Pretty lights, dancing in the aisles. Some strange people came, but I guess that just means everyone likes the music.” She flung her arms around the dog’s head and made little cooing sounds. “Even that grouchy old snake liked it. Isn’t that right, Maxy?”
“What’s your take on the audience?” I let the snake comment slide. Pina was always bringing plants and critters into my house. She had to miss her woods. Maybe that’s why she disappeared so often.
“Some of those people are dark and hard to read. I liked the colorful ones. They dress so nice.” Her eyes lit up, and she looked to Piper. “Do you think I’d look good in flower prints?”
“Definitely! Small patterns, nothing too bold.”
“That’s next.” Pina gave a determined little nod. “I’m worried about Koko.”
The sprite’s mind jumped between topics as easily as she popped in and out of the physical world. I could get her talking about the snake she caught, but her brows knitted in such uncharacteristic concern. Koko’s warning hung heavy on my mind. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t talk to my friend.
“He dropped in on my dreams the other night,” I said. “Seemed surly as usual to me. Although the fire was stupid hot at his place.”
“Oh, that’s because out here you are closer to the bridge into my lord’s realm.” Pina picked through the fur on Max’s neck. “I’m glad he’s talking to you.”
Talking…making demands, such a fine line. I’d worked myself into a corner. What else could I share about the dream? Both women did not want me overdoing my magic, so the topic of more practice wasn’t safe. Neither was asking why Koko wanted the imp. Although—
“He ought to post a warning. Those flames were a freaking inferno.” I steeled myself to dance around my father’s warning. “Been back to the house lately?”
“Yes.” Pina brightened. “I saw Pete and little Ralph just a while ago. Pete told me you left to find the band.”
“Well, sure.” Sprites and other beings that flitted between realms seemed to have difficulty grasping time. “Have you seen him in the last couple of days?”
The background commotion during my last call was concerning. Plus, I wanted to hear why the station was broadcasting from the farm.
“I got to the house at night.” Pina chewed her lip and scrunched up her face in concentration. “Pete emptied his box full of clothes into drawers, and Ralph had a banana.”
Pete used an old veggie shipping crate instead of a suitcase. So that would have been the day we left.
“Next time you see him, come straight back and let us know how things are going with Ralph and the farm. Okay?”
“I will, Edan.” She nodded solemnly. “And when you see your father, tell him…tell him I’m sorry.” Her eyes glistened, and she wiped her face in Max’s fur. “I don’t know what I did wrong, but He’s become so hard to find. My lord must be angry.”
“Oh, Pina.” Piper slipped down to put an arm around her narrow shoulders. “I’m sure things are just busy. He could never be mad at you.”
13. Eastward Bound
P INA WAS gone by morning. We never saw the sprite pop in or out, though I was intensely curious about her mode of travel. The world would get a lot smaller if I could master that ability. For now, I settled for applying my morning hiding spell while Max did his thing and the band packed.
The return route looped onto Interstate 90. We drove hard all day and made good time. Pioneer led the way. Randy drove like he played, at break neck speed and borderline insane. Manfred and his assistant, a woman I had yet to speak with, followed in a black tank of a car. The blocky rectangle managed to pull off lean and aggressive with its low profile and throaty growl. We brought up the rear of our little procession. More vehicles than I would have expected traveled east on I-90. I suspected most of them were gr
oupies like Anna and had nothing better to do than follow the tour.
We crossed too far above Yellowstone National Park to see anything interesting. I read about the geysers and hot pools in school. As with so much else, management of the area dropped by the wayside, but the wildlife populations remained stable. There would be wolves, bison, and bear in there, along with who knew what else. The distant mountains and lost opportunity slipped by on our right. We hit what was left of Billings, Montana at five and veered south with the interstate.
An hour later, the RV pulled onto a dirt road that took us into a town bordering the old Crow Indian Reservation.
“Bridleville,” Billy declared as we shuffled out of our respective vehicles into the dirt of a wide expanse at the end of town.
“Like in getting married?” Randy asked.
The buildings were low and modern. More new construction as opposed to salvaged ruins. Sidewalks lined the storefronts, and a group of people hustled out of a hardware store, shuffled across the street, and entered a non-descript gray building. The streets were wide, but something was off.
We walked toward the grassy square at our end of town. The main thoroughfare stretched off between the buildings to a wide intersection squatting at the end of the block. The place felt deserted, which was odd since we heard commotion from inside. The road surface shone dull gray in the evening light. Shadows from the oddly high railings set along the sidewalks stretched away from us.
“No lights?” Piper asked.
That was it. The intersections had no signals, no stop signs, and no markings at all along the street. The road was a loose gray mix of clay and sand, plenty wide, but unlined and with no parking spaces. Our shoes crunched as we moved from grass to roadway. The odd composite had a springy firmness that massaged my feet. Max glued his nose to the stuff, snuffling so loudly I worried he’d choke.
Heavy clopping echoed down the empty street. Three large shapes trotted out from the right side of the nearest intersection.
