seattle; tuesday ft

[necroslacker]

Brid leaned in and kissed Sam solemnly on the cheek. When she leaned back, her face was a mask. "What we need is answers, and we’d like you to help us get them. The pack and I would be eternally grateful.”

Sam nodded, and she took my hand, leading me past the pyre and into the trees. Stanley, James, and Brid’s siblings followed. It made for a very strange procession.

The motley crew came to a smaller clearing lit by a few hastily made torches. As Sam approached, he saw why. They didn’t want to leave the body of their father, their leader, in the darkness. Sam let go of Brid’s hand and walked forward.

Brannoc did not look peaceful. His body lay sprawled on the grass. Sam could tell from the blood and the way he was lying that he’d died face down. He’d crawled a few feet on his belly and then the life left him. Someone had turned him over after that. James came up behind me. Stanley tried to follow, but Sam sent him to the outer circle to wait.

"He was a good leader," James said.

"He was a good man," I said. The torchlight flickered over the body. That’s how Sam had to think about it—the body. If it wasn’t a person, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much. "What's going on, James? I feel like I'm missing something."

James knelt closer to the body, and I followed suit. "When aren’t you missing something?"

"Not the time, James."

"Sorry, Master."

He sounded almost contrite, so I let it go. "I know you understand things better than me. Please."

He looked out past the tree line. "They didn’t just lose their father, they lost their leader."

"I got that."

"Don’t interrupt."

"Sorry."

He kept going. "Like so many things, you get the immediate problem, but not its implications. Brannoc is dead. The pack has a new leader. Your friend is the new taoiseach. That means any diplomatic tie, any pledge to the former clan chief, has to be renewed. She’s the new head honcho, and things are going to change. Lots of things." He rocked back on his heels. "I imagine the werewolves will be a bit distracted for a while." He said the last almost to himself.

"Oh." Sam felt like he still wasn't getting it. But whatever it was would have to wait. "What exactly do they want me to do?"

James stood up. "What do you think?" He handed me his knife again, handle first. "At least try and act like you know what you’re doing. You’re making me look bad. If you insist on tarnishing my reputation like this, no one will want me after the pack turns you into bloody confetti."

Right. Sam stood up and drew a circle around Brannoc's body and tried not to look at it. He didn't want to see the face of his friend, now lifeless and dead. It would be too much. Of course, when you didn't want to look at something, that's when you couldn't avoid it and Sam found himself staring at Brannoc. He had dirt in his hair and Sam brushed it out. Brannoc didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to die like this and Sam choked on anger and sadness. He breathed and shoved everything into a dark corner of his mind. He'd done the same thing when Haden, his stepfather, had died.

There was still blood in the circle but Sam cut his arm to add to it and when his blood hit Brannoc's it was like he was immediately elsehwere. No. He was in the same place but everyone else had disappeared. He was alone.

"Ash?" Sam called out for her, voice floating out over the clearing. No response. He tried again, this time putting some will into it. "Ashley!" Usually she pops right into existence, but this felt a lot like the time he and Haley had made taffy at home and they'd had to keep pulling it. Sticky and tough but unable to get a good handle on.

Finally Ashley shimmered in, like a slow dissolve. She blinked a few times, surprise fluttering across her features while she looked around. "Where the hell did you bring me, Sam?"

"I was going to ask you the same question," Sam said, shrugging.

"I don't know where we are but the place reeks of magic," Ashley said, suspicious.

"Pretty, isn’t it?"

Startled, Sam jumped nearly about ten feet into the air.

Sam and Ashley both turned, and that was when they saw that we weren’t alone in the clearing, after all. There was a woman in a long dress about ten feet away from me. Her red hair trickled loose past her waist, white flowers and vines weaving in and out of it. The flowers opened, wilted, crumpled, and then bloomed again, the cycle repeating as I watched. It was dizzying. Sam shivered.

She walked toward him, and try as he might, Sam found he couldn't move. He had the strangest urge to drop to my knees. Not a compulsion, really, but something told him it would be a good idea. So he did. The soil under under knees felt cold, and a pebble was digging into his shin, but Sam stayed with my head down until he could see her feet.

She was barefoot.

That is very sweet, but somewhat unnecessary." Her rich voice held a note of laughter in it.
Still, she sounded pleased. The gesture was worth it, then.

"Stand, Samhain Corvus LaCroix, stand before you catch your death. Besides, I refuse to spend the evening addressing the crown of your head."

When Sam got up, she was seated on a log by a crackling fire and Ashley was giving Sam a strange look, but she had curtsied when she’d seen me drop to my knees.

"Cool trick," Sam said, still adjusting to the sudden strong magic.

"Thank you." She patted part of the log next to her. Sam took a seat next to her and tilted slightly in her direction. She took Sam's chin in her hands and examined his face for a few long moments, lingering mostly on hiseyes. Luckily, Sam had gotten used to this kind of thing. He relaxed and let her do whatever she had to do, enjoying the fire in the meantime. Finally, she patted his cheek. "You’ll do fine."

"Thanks?"

She pulled off her mantle and settled it around Sam's shoulders. It felt like velvet, thick and soft, warm as if it had been sitting in the sun. Sam pulled it around himself and felt not just warmth, but comfort. While that mantle was wrapped around him, Sam felt his chest loosen and everything tight and terrible took a breather.

The flower lady turned a smile on Ashley, who had taken a seat across from us and was currently scowling in our direction.

"Your loyalty does you credit, little Harbinger, but rest assured that I mean your ward no harm."

"Uh-huh. Well, I’ll remain skeptical if it’s all the same to you."

"As you wish," the woman replied, her smile gaining an amused twist. "You are wondering, perhaps, why I am here instead of Brannoc?"

"The thought had crossed my mind." More accurately, Sam was wondering if he'd done something wrong. He didn't have the best control and sometimes, his mind did odd things.

"His death," she said, "was traumatic. And I would prefer he rested. I have a certain interest in this particular family line. How would you put it? We go way back?"

"All death is traumatic." I'd seen a lot of death in my life and no one had died smiling.

"I can see how you might believe that, but it’s not true."
Sam pulled the mantle tighter. Seattle nights can be chilly, even in the summer, but wherever we were, it was much colder. "Traumatic or not, his family deserves to know what happened. They’re counting on me for information. Some help."

"I know."

"You’re going to send me back with nothing, aren’t you?" Sam didn't want to whine but he wanted to do good for the werewolves as well. He wanted to help.

She blew on the fire, and the flames climbed, grew, and crackled, responding to her whim in an unnatural way, like they wanted to please her. "Nothing, no. Just not what you came here for. I’m sure his family would love to see him, just as I’m sure they’d love answers, but I must consider what is best for all my children, so I’m stepping in, whether the pack wishes it or not. Brannoc is one of mine, and I will protect him from further hurt. That is all you need to know for now."

"Even if your interference keeps us from finding the killer?"

"Even then. I am not saying that I am beyond vengeance, Samhain. But I am patient, and that can wait. The victim comes first, not the killer."

Sam wanted to argue but Ashley was shaking her head. No arguing with the flower lady. Okay. He'd behave. For now.

"What am I supposed to tell them?" Sam asked, pulling her mantle up over his cold nose.

"Tell them his soul is resting, that you cannot help them in this way."

"So, what you’re saying is that I’m useless." He wanted to be angry at her but he wasn't. He couldn't be.

"That depends. Is this all you have to offer?"

"I don’t think my ability to burp the alphabet would be helpful right now." Sam quipped sarcastically.

She blinked and tilted her head. "Can you really do that?"

"Just to R." What a talented guy he was!

She laughed and it made Sam's heart feel good, again. He felt warm, like the sun was shining on him. She leaned in and kissed his forehead. "Yes, you'll do just fine."

"Glad you think so," he said. He was having serious doubts.

"Faith is important, Samhain, and I have an abundance of it. You will find a way to help them, I am sure of it." She leaned back, pulling the mantle with her. "In fact, I am counting on it. And you’re going to need that faith. There is a darkness out there, a sickness. I don’t know what it is, but it’s reaching out to you." She patted my cheek, looking worried. "Be careful."

Then Sam was cold again, standing heartbroken in a field, a concerned Ashley by my side. We were surrounded by the pack. They looked pissed. Sam could still feel the lady's lips on his forehead. He felt like crying and collapsing.

The pack was quiet. Brid stepped forward and said, "So, you're back. And you smell weird."

"So, you keep telling me," Sam hiccuped, wobbling a little.

"You smell like flowers," she said. Sam sniffed his jacket and...he did smell like flowers.

"Where did you go?" James asked, reaching for my jacket. "And stop sniffing that!"

Sam wanted to argue and even made a grab for the jacket but then he had to run to the bush and be sick. Very, very sick. He could hear Ashley talking quickly with James over the sound of his retching and then he heard James getting closer, cursing. He didn't do that often.

Once Sam was done throwing up, James grabbed his chin and took a look at him. If his face was any indication, he didn't like what he saw.

"What happened to you?" James demanded again.

As Sam started to answer, he caught Ashley glaring and shaking her head. No more talking. Okay. He felt so bad that not talking was a blessing. He didn't want to throw up again.

Sam felt awful, like he could barely move. He was slow to react and couldn't understand things. His body seemed to be trying to fix it but it wasn't working. He just wanted to collapse.

Brid came up behind James. "My father?"

She looked so terrible and so, so sad and Sam hated that he couldn't help her. He had nothing but flowers and the puke around his shoes. "I...can't. His soul needs to rest."

It sounded so trite.

Sam saw tears escape Brid's eyes and she turned away from him. "I see." And then she walked away. The pack followed her and some shot him angry glares that almost looked murderous in intent. Sam bowed his head and breathed noisily.

Sean came closer to James and Sam and said, "It's probably not the best time to be here. The pack..."

James understood and he wanted to leave immediately. He knew something was wrong with Sam but Sam refused. He wanted to say goodbye to Brannoc Blackthorn. Sam watched the body burn once he'd gotten himself upright and then he said goodbye to his friend. To his mentor. To a good, good man.

Once the funeral ended, James and Ramon escorted Sam back to the car. At some point, Sam started crying and James wiped his tears away with handkerchief.

And then Sam got sick on his shoes.

[NFB. Part 2 of 2. Cut and slashed from Necromancing the Stone. Warning for: post length, vomit. Open, but if you want to talk to Sam, you're probably going to get one of his friends at this point due to him being sick.]