seattle ; sunday ft

[necroslacker]

Douglas had never spent much time in dreamland. In his childhood, sure, but as he’d gotten older, it seemed like his ticket to the place had been revoked.

Sleep was a dark and static time when nothing happened. Since he’d died, though, his pass had suddenly become valid again and the conductor was making up for lost time. So once again he found himself dreaming of the past.…

***

“You’re sure you want to do this, then?” James looked on anxiously from the chair. Though the aging process was certainly slower in James than human children, it had still seemed like he’d only gotten the boy yesterday and now he was teetering into adulthood.

Douglas pushed back his hat with his wrist, avoiding the parts of his hand that were covered with chalk. James handed him his handkerchief, and Douglas used it to swipe at the sweat beading on his forehead. He passed it back and stared at his work. He’d drawn and redrawn the symbols until he was positive that they were exactly right.

“You have doubts?”

James pulled up a chair and sat carefully, trying to not disturb his duster folded over the back of it. The jacket was new, a gift from Douglas, and James was very protective of it. He crossed his legs, his hands folded neatly in his lap. “You know full well that I do.”

“The theory is sound.”

“Theory. The notes you looked at belonged to a man who died trying. As did almost every other reference you found.”
Douglas sat back on his heels. “Almost every being the important part of that sentence. They made mistakes—mistakes that I most certainly will not make.”

James studied his nails. “Do you know what hubris means, Master?”

“Seeing as how I’ve handled most of your education, it is a safe bet to assume that I am familiar with most of the words in your lexicon.”

“You are purposefully misunderstanding me.”

“Yes, I am.” Douglas stood, wiping his chalky hands on a rag. “Life is a series of calculated risks, James. I happen to think that this one is worth it.”

The pukis sighed, his posture straight and even, despite his despondency. “You could at least choose an item that was less … I don’t know. Obvious?”

Douglas took the jade egg off the shelf. He had very few items from his past. This egg and his aunt’s knife were probably the only remnants he still had, if you didn’t count his books. He folded the cool piece of jade into his palm. His heart still squeezed a little when he looked at it. For that feeling alone—something that was becoming more and more rare—he would have kept the egg.

James continued the argument they’d already had several times. “Anyone familiar with fairy tales will figure it out.” He shook his head. “While you’re at it, why don’t you start yelling fe, fi, fo, fum and climbing beanstalks?”

“That’s the wrong giant in the wrong fairy tale.”

James threw him a look that said he was missing the point.

Douglas sighed. “Even if they are familiar with it, they would still have to guess that I did it in the first place, and few will fathom that. For most it will be … unthinkable.” The egg remained cold in his hand. “And no other object will do.”

Defeat sagged James’s shoulders. “You’ve made up your mind, then,” he said softly.

“I have,” replied Douglas. “I really have.”

He stepped into the circle and began the rite.

***

Douglas came to with a start in a chair pulled close to the fireplace. The fire itself was long out, the hearth cold. Minion slept on the rug at his feet, the half-chewed remnants of several pieces of wax fruit spread around him. Douglas sighed. At some point, his life had gone off track. He wasn’t sure how, but he was pretty sure the when had been when Sam had entered into the equation. But that would be fixed soon, the number refigured to change the outcome.

He just needed a little more time.

***

Sam's mother called him on the way home. She used to call about once a week just to check in, but since Douglas kidnapped Sam in the spring, the calls had become more frequent. If he hadn’t known better, Sam would have guessed she was worried about me. He sleepily caught her up on what the group had found out. Then he told her James would be stopping by to check her security. He didn’t lecture her or get mad that she’d tried to hide the whole knife thing from him. She was well aware of how Sam felt about keeping things from each other, even if the intentions were good. They'd had enough of that, Sam was sure. But Sam wasn’t going to shrug off a threat to his family like it was nothing, either. Not after everything that had happened.

He must have fallen asleep in the car shortly after the phone call, because James had to wake him up when we got to the house. Everyone was outside in a ring, shouting. Night had fallen, and despite the tiki torches and the bonfires they’d lit, Sam couldn’t quite see what was going on, as some of the bigger creatures were on the outside and they had gnomes and gladiators on their shoulders, all of them covered in war paint and chanting, “Two men enter, one man leaves!”

Every bone in Sam's body ached with fatigue but he couldn't just walk past something like that. Sam walked up to one of the gladiators who had climbed up onto the shoulders of the Minotaur. They’d altered one of those beer hats with the tubes to fit onto his giant bull head. One tube, he assumed, went to the Minotaur, and a gladiator was holding the other tightly in his little fist. Since the gladiators only came up to my waist, the Minotaur could easily hold one on its shoulders, even though it was made of marble.

Sam tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, uh - "

"Dave!" he shouted.

"Dave, right. What's going on, Dave?" Sam asked.

“Welcome to the Thundergnome!” he crowed, never taking his eyes off the action.

“Thundergnome?”

He nodded, taking a sip off his beer tube. “Sometimes they don’t like to wait for battle situations to bring in a new gnome, so they do something like this.” He shouted something about the combatants and their parentage. “As a gladiator, I have to say I approve, eh. Maybe after this they’ll give us a go, you think?”

“One can dream,” Sam said. He thanked him, waving off his offer of the beer tube before moving to the other side of the action to see what was going on.

Once he was able to see, he noticed Frank—at least the shoes looked like his—covered in gnomes, wrestling on the dirt. He appeared to be holding his own. Some things are just so surreal that they don’t even register in your brain as weird. Sam shrugged and left Frank to his gnome wrestling and went to find my bed.

He wasn't quite sure when he passed out, but it was full dark when he got home. His sleep was pretty deep, though. Sam kept having weird dreams about searching all over the house for glowing chocolate eggs like some sort of demented Easter bunny. Then he had to go to the zoo and put Ling Tsu the panda back to rest, only someone kept moving the zoo. He finally woke up in a sweat sometime mid morning. For a few minutes, he just sat on the edge of my bed, scratching the sleeping head of Taco, who’d curled up in a ball by his feet in the night, and tried to wake up. It didn’t work. Sam knew it had been a dream—he’d put Ling Tsu the panda back after he’d killed Douglas—but he was having a hard time shaking it. Finally, Sam pulled on a T-shirt, getting tangled up in a rather embarrassing fashion with his pouch necklace somehow, before yanking on some shorts and stumbling downstairs, Taco following behind. Though he felt better after my long sleep, Sam was groggy as all get-out.

He grabbed a soda and a seat at the kitchen table before collapsing face down. Frank, he noticed after a moment, was doing the exact same thing. James was bustling around the kitchen, chipper and neat as a pin. It was rather obnoxious, really.

“Bad night?” Sam mumbled at Frank.

He groaned. “Never, ever accept anything out of a gnome’s flask.”

James sniggered.

“Quiet, you.” Sam poked Frank. “Just ignore smartypants over there.”

“No,” Frank said with a sigh. “I should have known better. But I was trying to bond with the guys, you know?”

Sam did know. When he used to work with Frank at Plumpy’s, Frank had done his best to get to know the rest of the crew and fit in. It was kind of adorable in its awkwardness.

“Plus, I lost, like, fifty bucks betting on the gladiator fight after mine, and I can’t get all my face paint off, and Dunaway is coming over after his shift so he can go through our library, and I look like I made out with Rambo.” He twisted his face so I could see the dark smudges of paint under his eyes.

“I hear cold cream does wonders,” James said. “And you should never bet against Dave. He currently holds the title amongst the other gladiators, if I remember correctly.” He sipped his tea. “Maybe you shouldn’t bet. You appear to be a poor judge of character.” Even James’s voice was perky. Morning people are annoying. If he kept smiling and sipping his tea in that jaunty manner, Sam was going to grab an orange out of the fruit bowl and chuck it at his head.

Frank squeezed his eyes shut against the light streaming into the kitchen. “James, I generally consider that I’m poor at everything. It saves time.”

James frowned over his tea. “That’s no way to look at things.”

Sam smiled into the crook of my arm. It’s hard to pick on someone when he rolls over like Frank tends to do.

“As long as none of them peed on my sheets again,” Sam said with a laugh.

“I don’t think they will. I’m pretty sure everything is smoothed over now, so there’s really no reason to add to the long list of awful stuff they’ve been doing. At least I found out how Taco got here. The gladiators ordered him out of a catalog. I think they saw the regime change as a chance to get a long-desired pet.”

James stirred his tea. “Ah yes, that rings a bell. That’s how it came up originally. The gladiators wanted one—something about playing fetch with their stone shields. Wouldn’t work with a dog, but chupacabras have strong jaws.”

“Is that why Douglas didn’t want one?” asked Frank. “He hates fetch?”

James shot him a withering look. “No, he didn’t want one because they disrupt magic. If you let Taco loose on the grounds and aren’t careful, he could bust all the protective wards and who knows what else. They are the rodents of the magical world.”

Sam took a sip of his soda, looking thoughtful. “Wait, Frank, go back a minute, what long list of awful stuff?”

He grimaced. “It’s best if you don’t know.”

“You’re probably right.” Sam looked around the cheerful kitchen with its perky yellow walls and white curtains, and it really wasn’t helping things. “Ugh, I can’t handle this kitchen anymore. James, I’m beginning to think you painted it this way so none of us would linger, except you did it before we lived here. If anyone needs me, I’ll be on the front porch.”

***

When Ashley materialized, Sam was sitting at the table on the porch, enjoying the weather and examining the jade egg he’d stashed in his pouch. Even in the summer sun, it was chill to the touch. Ashley wasn’t wearing her standard Catholic schoolgirl chic. Her hair was pulled back into ponytails as usual, but that was the only thing that was the same. Flip-flops, short shorts, and a tank top with what appeared to be a glittery purple unicorn on it took the place of her usual outfit. And she had on purple, heart-shaped sunglasses. It was all very un–Ashley-like.

“What’s with the gear?”

She hopped into a chair, crossing her legs and propping them on another chair. “Kinda stands out, don’t you think? School uniform in the summer months?” She yanked a sucker out of her mouth to talk to me.

“That’s never really stopped you before. And that doesn’t mean you have to wear purple sparkly unicorn shirts.”

“There is nothing more universal, Sam, than a girl in a unicorn top. Besides—” she held the tank out to show me the rest of the shirt. There was some glittery script under the rainbow the unicorn was galloping on. It said BITE ME.

“Ah,” Sam said, almost smirking. “That makes more sense.”

She popped the sucker back into her mouth, shoving it into her cheek. “Whatcha got there?”

Sam passed it over to her. “I’m not sure. I think there’s something going on with it. I mean, I found it in a weird place in Douglas’s house, like he was hiding it, and it’s cold all the time, so I figure it’s got some sort of Creepy Douglas Death Magic on it, but I’m afraid to monkey with it, since I don’t know anything about it.”

“This whole house is weird, so how can you say it has a specific weird place?” Ashley snatched the egg off the table. “Let me see that.” She peered at it, a grimace slowly forming on her face. “You’re right. It’s almost like…” She shook her head. “Never mind. You said you found this here?”

Sam nodded.

“That would explain the oddness of it, then. I’m suspicious of anything that comes from this house. We’ve got enough to deal with for now, though, so I say stash it in your pouch. That should neutralize or hide whatever it is. We can come back to it in the short window of time after this crisis blows over and before the next one begins.”

Sam put it away as Ashley requested. Ashley can get kind of bossy when you argue with her, and since Sam didn’t know what else to do with the thing, he was going to do what she said for now. With Ash, you pick your battles carefully.

Ashley threw her sucker stick onto the table. “Okay, now that we got all that out of the way, we can get to the important stuff—namely, we can try to figure out what happened the night of the bonfire.”

Frank and James came out to join them, the former flopping down in a seat next to Sam while the latter swirled into cat form before leaping up and settling himself regally on one of the chair cushions.

“This view used to be so lovely before that wooden abomination was constructed.” His eyes flicked back and forth as he said this, following Ramon on the ramp. Ramon was human again and putting his skateboard to good use. Sam was glad someone had energy this morning.

Sam started to reply, but was interrupted by Taco crawling up his leg and settling in his lap. Taco eyed the feline with interest before James hissed at him. Sam smiled and scratched Taco’s head, causing him to close his eyes and purr in his odd little way.

With a wary look at the content chupacabra, James began explaining Sam's state when he took me to my mom’s house the other night, mostly for Frank’s benefit, though Ashley had missed the last part, since she’d had to take off. Taco rolled onto his back and offered up his belly for some scratching. Sam complied while James finished with his recitation.

“James, would you mind repeating all that to somebody?” Ashley asked.

“And what do I get out of that?” he asked, his lids drooping lazily as he looked at her.

“How about I keep petting Taco so he doesn’t start looking for a kitty snack and you don’t have the embarrassing recurrence of me vomiting all over your shoes? How’s that for compensation?” Sam asked.

“No need to get nasty,” he said, not looking at me. “I was kidding. Sort of.” He added the last bit when Sam stopped petting Taco and glared at him.

Ashley pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head. “Sam, this should be somewhat official, so would you mind opening a portal for me? I’d like to discuss this with Ed.”

Sam hesitated. “Ash, last time I did that, it took a lot of blood.” He shuddered inwardly. The last time he’d seen Ed, he’d been in Douglas’s basement, exhausted, battered, and confused. The summoning had been an accident, and it almost gotten him killed.

Ashley patted my shoulder. “You were untrained and scared. Plus, you have access to more power now. I don’t think you’ll have a problem at all. Just try it like you’re calling me, and we’ll go from there.”

Even though she’d been fairly helpful this week, it was weird to have Ash be nice. Not that she wasn’t a sweet person or anything; it’s just that her sweetness was usually covered in wasps, like a soda left out on a particularly hot summer day. You know the kind that bite and sting you? And maybe you don’t notice them in your soda and you take a drink because it’s hot and you accidentally swallow one and it stings your esophagus and you have to be taken to the hospital because you find out that you’re allergic to wasps? But no matter how much pain you’re in, the soda was still pretty sweet and refreshing because it was so hot, and you don’t regret drinking it, even if it did have a freakishly high cost.

Just like that.

"Okay," Sam said slowly. "I'll give it a go." He closed his eyes and his breathing slowed. Deep breath in through the nose. Hold it. Out the mouth. He continued this pattern until everything inside him felt still and calm. Then he pictured Ed. Sam had only seen him once, but you don’t forget Ed. He was around seven feet tall, golden-skinned, with the silvery-black head of a jackal. Yeah, he was pretty easy to pick out of a lineup. Once Sam had his image firmly in place, he pushed his power at it. Sam knew it had worked before he even opened my eyes. The sound of Frank choking was enough evidence of that fact.

When Sam looked, Ed was standing next to Ashley, who was smacking Frank on the back trying to get him to stop choking. Ed had his arms crossed and was looking rather amused by the whole thing. At least, Sam thought he was amused. Kind of hard to tell, actually.

After all the commotion had passed, Ashley brought Ed up to speed. He leaned against the railing and settled in, nodding at James to retell his story. He asked a few questions, which caused another choking fit with Frank, since no one had warned him that Ed spoke telepathically. Once Frank had stopped sputtering, Ed made Ashley tell him about last night. When the story was finished, he turned to me.

And you remember nothing? Ed asked.

Sam tried to speak, then frowned when nothing came out. It wasn’t like he didn’t remember anything, but it was disjointed, like trying to remember what happened after an evening of hard drinking. Things flashed and surfaced, but then quickly sank down again. He relayed to them them what he did remember—a lady by a fire, flowers, laughter.

Ed tapped his fingers on one of the copper cuffs that adorned his biceps. It would take a lot of power to disrupt what you were trying to do, and an intimate connection to the deceased.

“So what can do something like that?” Sam asked. Taco continued to purr, his eyes closed. He didn’t care what we were talking about as long as he kept getting scratched. He didn’t seem much like the rodent of the magical world to me.

Ashley socked me in the arm, then she thought about it and punched me again, just for good measure. “Why can’t you stop having weird things happen to you? Seriously, it’s like you’re a strange-magnet. Cut it out!”

Ah, there was the Ashley Sam had come to know and love. Ed was apparently used to these kinds of outbursts from her and ignored it.

We are talking about something above my pay grade. Perhaps an elemental spirit or a creature of that nature. Ed’s ears twitched. Sam was pretty sure if he hung around Ed long enough, he’d be able to tell what he was feeling all the time just by watching his ears.

It would have to be something powerful, Ed continued.

“Could anyone at the Den have done it?” Frank asked. He leaned forward, his elbows on the table. One of the gnomes was crawling around his shoulders and muttering.

No, not anyone that you have mentioned. These were heavy workings. What is that creature doing?

“I think he’s measuring me for a proper gnome hat.”

Ed’s nose wrinkled. But you are not a gnome.

Frank blushed. “I know, but they’ve sort of made me an honorary general or something.”

Sam almost laughed, but then the gnome—it might have been Twinkle, it was kind of hard to tell them apart sometimes—stood up, put his hands on his hips, and beamed fiercely at the group. Since it appeared to be a serious source of pride for the gnome, and since Sam didn’t particularly want my room trashed again, he quelled his amusement.

“Excellent, Frank,” Sam said. “Good job. You’re finally moving up in the world.” I eyed Twinkle gravely. “Is this the kind of event that warrants a celebration?”

The tiny gnome nodded solemnly, but proudly too. “’Tis. A promotion of rank is always marked by much revelry. But his should be doubly so. It’s not every day we let a non-gnome wear the hat.” He patted Frank’s ear affectionately.

Sam smiled. "Then it will be doubly done. Can you let me know what you’ll need? It would be bad form to have Frank set up his own party.”

Frank blushed even more, but Twinkle seemed happy that he was being taken so seriously. “Aye. We can do that.” He tipped his hat at me and disappeared into the bushes.

Your house is very entertaining.

"Thanks, Ed," Sam said, nodding.

Frank raised his hand.

Sam rolled his eyes and said, "“We’re not in class. You can just talk.”

He lowered his hand slowly. “Could something like Ed do it? I mean, you said whatever killed Brannoc came out of nothing. Maybe that same force is keeping you away?”

Ed’s ear twitched, and he looked thoughtful. The power is there, but like Ashley, I would have to answer to our overseer, and he would not be amused with such interference.

Frank processed this. “Well, that tells us something, right? Ed is considered a heavy hitter, isn’t he?” He peered up at Ed. “What did Ashley call you? An upper-level entity?”

“Yeah,” Ash said, “he’s got some juice.” She pursed her lips. “So what we’re looking for is probably not mortal, something big, something from a higher plane, like a demigod or something associated with a major pantheon.” She looked at me and narrowed her eyes. “What kind of shit storm did you land us in this time?”

“I would like to point out at this juncture that this is not my fault in any way.”

“It never is,” she said with a sigh.

They sat quietly for a minute, all of us deep in thought. Sam sifted through his brain trying to come up with any little tidbit or memory, anything that might get them closer to what was going on.

“The flower,” Sam blurted out. Everyone turned their attention towards Sam. There were blank expressions and a few expressions of worry.

“The flowers are very pretty this time of year,” James said hesitantly.

“No,” Sam said, frustrated. “When I came back that first time, I had a flower with me. I remember, because I put it on Brannoc’s pyre. But it was nighttime, and the flower was fully open, and I didn’t pick it. The flower was with me when I came back.”

“That’s something,” Ashley said.

Frank got up and dusted off his jeans. “Enough for me to get started,” he said.

“On what?” Sam asked. He was grateful for his enthusiasm, but to me it didn’t seem like much to go on.

“Research,” he said. “I can cross-reference higher-level entities with flowers, see what we can come up with. Not everything is associated with flowers, right?”

No, but many of them are.

“It will still give me somewhere to start. And as we learn more, I can narrow it down. James, can you come down to the library? You might be able to help me," Frank said.

“I need to go to Tia’s house first.” His whiskers twitched. “Sam has asked me to go and assess their security.”

"Afterward, then?" Frank suggested.

James nodded and Frank left.

Ashley sniffed, wiping away a pretend tear from her face. “Our little boy is growing up so fast.”

Sam pulled one of her pigtails. “Shut up. I’m proud of him.”

“Me too,” she said. “Isn’t that what I just implied?”

A very entertaining house. Ed seemed to be enjoying his time here tremendously.

James cleared his throat. “If I can add something?”

“Sure?” It was best to make it a question with James and leave full judgment on whether his adding something was okay only after he actually added it.

“You might also want to talk to the pack and see if they have a patron god or creature or something associated with them. That could save you a lot of time. You know, assuming they’ll talk to you.”

Sam blinked at him. That was a really good idea and one he hadn't thought of because he'd been too busy trying to make everything overly complicated. “You just earned yourself ten brownie points,” Sam said, grabbing his phone. He walked into the yard so he could make the call with a little privacy, when he noticed an unfamiliar car pulling up. Sam didn’t know what kind—Ramon was the car guy—but it was sleek, expensive looking, and had darkly tinted windows. Because of that last bit, he was only mildly surprised when a large umbrella poked out and unfurled, followed quickly by Kell.

He advanced, looking coolly sophisticated in his three-piece suit and wearing his wide and toothy smile. Sam didn’t know how old Kell was or if vampires lived as long as they were rumored to live, but San wondered if he was as smooth and charismatic before he died. Since Kell was the only vampire Sam knew, he couldn't tell if it was just him or not. He managed to look suave even walking under an umbrella on a sunny day, so Sam was inclined to think he’d been dead at least long enough to get some practice making that look completely normal.

“Good morning,” he said. “Mind if I approach? I’d much prefer the porch if it is all right with you and your guests.”

"Sure, yeah," Sam said, pocketing his phone and inviting Kell up. They headed to the porch.

Once under the overhang, Kell collapsed his umbrella. He greeted the group as he did, seeming to know everyone there, which surprised me. He stopped on James. “That’s a nice look for you,” he said, indicating James’s kitty status. “Very svelte.” Kell’s mouth twitched as he said it, a small smirk on his face. James simply nodded in greeting and then ignored him. It would take a lot more than that to shake him up.

Kell made himself at home, pulling up a chair and sitting at the table.

“To what do we owe your visit?” Sam asked.

“Council business. We need you to accompany Pello up to the mountains.”

“Yeah, ’cause last time I helped, I did so well. I’m still finding seaweed in uncomfortable places.”

Kell tilted his head. “Really?”

“Well, no, not as such, but you know what I mean. And seriously, don’t we have enough with Brannoc’s death and all?”

“Seriously,” Kell said, “current tragedy aside, we still have a job to do. The world continues to turn, even after we die.”

“That seems a little heartless,” Sam said.

“Brannoc of all people would have understood,” he said, “that we cannot allow ourselves to wither and fade just so we can adhere to convention. We mourn while we work.” He tapped me with the umbrella. “Now, get properly dressed.”

"What does that mean?" Sam asked, starting to rise. “Like a suit or something?”

“Like good shoes and a water bottle. You’re going hiking.”

[NFB, NFI, OOC is cool! Lifted from Necromancing the Stone. Warning for: nothing really objectionable here though long post is long. Taco is cute, Ed is my favorite.]