Chapter Fourteen

By the time Andrea's mom called, mildly freaked, to say she and her husband were waiting, Andrea was as near to coming unglued as I'd ever seen. I'd done the Underhill dos-and-don'ts briefing while I set meat roasting, and she'd been listening, but antsy, and in a very Andrea way both sharply analytical and guileless.

"I'm sorry to be so fidgety, Mercy, but it's not just anxiety. I know I've been very lucky, through Jenny, in knowing you, and meeting so many wonderful beings. It's a privilege and a pleasure. I really do like the preternatural. But just as I have no desire to become a wolf, and understand exactly why you're so pleased about protecting Celilo Falls from photography, so I've been content Underhill is forbidden to humans, including me. The President was a necessary exception, and taking Jesse was forced on you. But now you're inviting me in, I just don't know what to think. Or what I feel. It's … not usual for me."

"Huh. Makes sense enough, Andrea, and I'm sorry it's a price for you to pay. I didn't anticipate that. But I'm clear on three things you might not be." She gave me a look, and I nodded, holding up a finger. "One is that the primary reason Underhill gave you and Jesse liferoses, and me the cloak, is that we all helped the fae. Some of your help was indirect, like Jesse's, shaping a situation that suited them as well as me, but not all. Ap Lugh heard you suggest I do not need enemies to know who I am, which has worked very well for them financially and politically, and that evening he suggested Underhill wouldn't mind giving Jesse and you liferoses. It was a way of framing what he really wanted, which was the Presidential … liferose-bush, but today he called yours a serendipitous gift, and seemed to think it like casting his bread upon the waters. Bottom line is when he met you, he approved, and liked your style, as he likes mine." Except when he didn't, but life's not all roses. I shrugged. "You respect the Fae and Underhill, and do things that help them, so they respect you back, and mutual respect opens space for further dealings."

"I thought I was just doing my job."

"Not just, Andrea, doing it superbly, above and beyond by a long way — so well you've been pulled far deeper into wolf territory than most humans get. You took Medicine Wolf in your stride. Is this so different?"

"Well … no, but … Underhill, Mercy. Elsewhere and elsewhen to everything. Centuries lost or gained."

"All of that, but also a friend, in her fashion, and a very useful short-cut, as well as an exceptionally potent resource when she wishes to be. If you want a more practical answer, I'm more than half-expecting a legal claim that a president shouldn't take very low carbon-footprint shortcuts through foreign territory, and the only human testimony available right now is from Jesse and the Man."

It gave her something to chew on, brow creasing.

"The second thing is that where Fae are concerned, and Underhill, I and mine stand in a new space. It is not safe — nothing to do with such power ever is — but it's a lot safer than I would have imagined possible. By Prince Gwyn ap Lugh's word no fae shall harm me while all should heed me, and by Underhill's none shall harm me or mine in the Garden of Manannán's Death. We're well into mutual back-scratching, and from the way Gray Lords are accepting my insistence that no-one owes anyone, all gifts and gladnesses being in balance, they know they're profiting. And harming one you owe is a big no-no from way back, so honour should be working in my favour. Then factor in Medicine Wolf, Bran, and the Elder Spirits, and though I'll do the hospitality spell every last time, because, d'oh, Gray Lords, I mostly trust the ones I'm dealing with."

She absorbed that, blinking.

"And the third thing is that this is Phase Two of the Accords and my primary policy to cement peaceful human–preternatural and inter-preternatural relations. Celilo Falls is one part of it, my putative candidacy another, and any way you cut it that means maximally engaging the Fae with the Path of Mercy. Which they actually want, or trolls wouldn't have been so helpful. It's why I'm into Underhill as reforester, and there are other things. This now is … peripheral, though if your dad accepts it will become less so, but if you're around me, whether I run or win or neither, closer contact with Gray Lords and Underhill is inevitable. So you're right this is another step, a big one, but it's not the first and won't be the last."

She was looking happier, if still bemused, and once her mom called she got back her usual briskness as we collected Brent and I summoned an arch — until we walked into the Garden of Manannán's Death, and her face went dreamy while her eyes went wide.

"Oh … my. It's so beautiful."

"Isn't it? Underhill's still adding to it. The fountain's new. But we must observe courtesy. Underhill, I name to you Andrea Lafferty, here with your let and Gwyn ap Lugh's, and one to whom you have given a liferose."

Andrea bowed deeply, and her smile widened as Underhill chimed the promised acknowledgement.

"Your gift of the liferose made me most glad, Underhill, as being here now does, seeing the wonder of this garden …"

She realised just how peculiar the fountain was, and the smile became a laugh of sheer pleasure.

"Right response. Underhill says Manannán didn't like fountains — ex-sea-god amour propre, I think — and I have a suspicion that particular water might have arrived here when he did, for the last time." I shrugged. "He really did offend her, and I wouldn't be surprised if other water features show up. The comedown from sea god to duckpond, say, has to hurt, even if you're dead."

Andrea gave me a long look, dreaminess clearing.

"Jesse always says your vengeance is legend, Mercy. You sound like you're admiring a superior example."

I grinned. "Yup. Though I don't know if there are ducks Underhill. Talking geese, maybe, or swans. But we should get on. We'll be back directly, Underhill, with Andrea's parents, Frank and Rachel Lafferty."

I gave the street address, then GPS co-ords Adam had worked out, keeping a googled image in mind as well as a picture of the hall Andrea had shown me, and the cloak was once again spot on. Frank was smiling widely, presumably at having a magical arch appear, and his wife was looking mutinous as well as spooked, but both immediately gave their daughter hard, relieved hugs, that she returned before stepping back.

"Dad, you've met Mercy, but Mom hasn't, and I think I'd better be formal, so let me introduce Mercedes Hauptman, Elf-friend and Troll-friend, Daughter of Coyote, and co-ranking Alpha of the Columbia Basin Pack, also called She Doesn't Only Fix Cars, She Drops People Right In It. And her bodyguard, Brent Lanning, a lone wolf. Brent, Mercy, my mother and father, Rachel and Frank Lafferty."

I gave Andrea a look as her parents nodded to Brent and stared at me. I offered my hand.

"All of that, I'm afraid, though plenty of wolves aren't up to thinking of me as a co-Alpha yet, and it's just Mercy, please, Mr and Mrs Lafferty." We shook, and if I'd ever doubted it I knew I needed her on my side. "I do apologise for shanghaiing you both like this, as well as proposing a serious disruption of your lives."

"Then Rachel, please, Mercy. And you have, rather, but when I managed to think through what Andrea told us about your possible candidacy I found I liked the idea, a lot." She made a moue. "I'm far less keen on losing Frank for years to the resulting politics."

"So's Frank, frankly."

From Andrea's look that pun was familiar, but I grinned. "And rightly. But the only reason I've got this far with this insanity is that Jesse vetoed Adam vetoing it. And much as I didn't like it at first, I am beginning to think it may be another wise bit of insanity."

"As a lawyer, Mercy, wise insanity is not a term I'd care to defend in court."

"I bet. But making friends with a fifteen-foot dire wolf who's just trisected two innocent scientists doesn't exactly come recommended, and that panned out pretty well."

Andrea smiled, and Rachel blinked.

"That is … oddly true."

"Strike one. But let's go through before I try for number two." I ran a swift version of Underhill dos-and-don'ts, made sure they had good grips on the cloak, and asked it to reopen the arch. We went through as easily as always, but it was a day for surprises because ap Lugh and The Dagda were considering the fountain with unreadable expressions. They turned as I reassured Brent and named Frank and Rachel Lafferty to Underhill; the chime rang as Frank bowed and Rachel curtsied, so once they'd spoken words of gladness I gave what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Prince Gwyn ap Lugh, The Dagda, Andrea Lafferty you have met, and know her to hold a liferose of Underhill's giving. These are her parents, Frank Lafferty and Rachel Lafferty. Frank, Rachel, these are Gwyn ap Lugh, once and again Prince of the Gray Lords and Master Underhill, and The Dagda, husband of The Morrígan." More bows and curtsies received nods. "Would I be right to think you were contemplating Underhill's … most pleasing and jesting vengeance?"

"We were, Mercy. I confess I heard your suppositions about amour propre and a duckpond." Ap Lugh gave me another unreadable look, but hey, I like feeding ducks. "It made Nemane laugh, for a wonder. Yet we came hither to meet your guests, Underhill for the first time. Andrea Lafferty, it is well to see you again, Underhill as Overhill, and well also to meet the parents of so good a daughter, already blessed by Underhill." Andrea held it together, but flushed deeply. "Frank Lafferty, Rachel Lafferty, your daughter graces your names. Be welcome in the Garden of Manannán's Death, now and whenever you travel with Mercedes Elf-friend, taking no step aside."

They murmured gladness, and ap Lugh nodded.

"But we have one other warning, for in making her case to you, Frank Lafferty, Mercy will speak with my let of matters involving Fae policy. But for some while thereafter neither you nor your wife nor your daughter may speak of what you learn to any save full-blood fae, Mercy, and those she expressly allows to know. We have no expectation you would reveal what you should not, yet it is fair you know to heed us closely in this."

It was all true but still a test, and I saw Frank pass with flying colours by standing straight, meeting both Gray Lords' gazes, and giving his word to reveal no secret of the Fae without their or my permission. Rachel and Andrea followed, receiving formal acknowledgement and deeper nods. The Dagda gave me one too.

"You make interesting choices, Mercedes. And I say to you, Frank Lafferty, we have come to appreciate those choices richly, despite the Coyote chaos they often involve. She has turned the world a little, and we must turn with it to keep our balance, so do not needlessly fear doing so."

"I'll try not to, The Dagda. Yet there is needful fear also."

"Always and everywhere, Frank Lafferty. That is one thing Manannán mac Lír forgot, to his mortal cost. But on the Paths of Mercy and the Manitou there is also hope, and that is not so common."

"No, it isn't." Frank took a deep breath. "Even so, The Dagda, I can promise only to listen carefully to all Mercy has to say, for I will not commit myself against my wife's or daughter's will."

The Dagda nodded, his beard doing what it did. "That is well enough, Frank Lafferty. I do not care to cross my wife's will either."

I nearly said that seemed wise, wondering if The Morrígan counted as a singular wife, but I had no desire to annoy Nemane or her other thirds, especially if I'd just made her laugh. A glance at ap Lugh told me what he wanted saying had been said, and as I thought giving all Lafferties a stiff drink Overhill was an increasingly good idea I wished both fae renewed joy in contemplating the Fountain of Uphill Justice, pleased when both blinked, and completed farewells to another chime. One, two, three, and we were back in the hall, less than ten minutes after we'd left. Adam and Jesse were waiting, with Jenny, and I swept everyone into the kitchen to add Darryl (subbing as chef) and Warren (on shift), thanking the cloak as I put it on a wooden hanger on the back of the door. Brent stayed in curiosity, though also due dinner. Wolves on two legs were known territory, as were kitchens, which helped, but no Lafferty refused a shot of whisky, and while those went down I filled people in on the fountain and meeting ap Lugh and The Dagda.

Darryl blinked. "Uphill justice?"

"It seemed right. No idea if they'll accept it, or the duckpond idea."

Jesse and Andrea spoke in unison, Mercy's vengeance is legend, and sent one another pleased looks.

I flapped a hand. "Pish, whatever that means. Old news. But Underhill's vengeance, now … that's interesting. Aesthetic, subtle, highly amusing, and profoundly scornful. I begin to think Manannán had been really pissing her off for a long time before he started doing it to me."

"Her?" Frank decided one whisky was enough, and took a beer from Adam. "Underhill's a she?"

"Who knows? Probably not in any real sense, but the only manifestation I've met looks like a girl of twelve. Motherland, not Fatherland, I suppose."

"Huh. OK." He frowned. "I'm surprised because while I know from old tales that … contact is possible, I've never read of any manifestation." His look became wryer. "Not that I ever expected to visit at all."

"Me either. It may be a very old phenomenon people knew better than to write down, or new. Medicine Wolf and Underhill had a problem talking, because, it said, I'm all here and it is all somewhere else. Manifestation as a speaking human was an answer, apparently, but don't ask how. Oh, and if Andrea never told you, I … perhaps unwisely, though I'm beginning to wonder, inadvertently put the fae on their mettle when I told ap Lugh humour wasn't their strongest suit. Still isn't, but they're practicing."

Adam grinned at me. "The Path of Mercy doesn't leave them much choice, love. And what fountains Underhill puts in her own gardens is her business. What matters, Mr and Mrs Lafferty, from the sound of it, is that the Gray Lords have given you a once-over, and pronounced blessing — and that matters because they are high on the list of beings who have pushed Mercy onto her present course."

"They are, Mr Hauptman? And Frank, please."

We did first names, and Adam nodded.

"Oh yes. Also Jesse, de facto me, and the Marrok, as well as Coyote and the Man. We all thought hard about … severe improbability, and decided it was a good thing. Otherwise I'm going to keep out of this unless something really bothers me, because if you become Mercy's Veep it's to her vision you'll need to be loyal" — I sent him a grateful look and a pack-bond kiss, receiving one back — "but I need to add a wolf warning to the fae one, I'm afraid. Whatever you decide, Frank, you and yours are going to learn a lot about wolves too, including restricted material. Your daughter already knows much, so you have a sounding board, but no-one else unless Mercy or I explicitly clear it."

Rachel waved a hand. "Client confidentiality I get." Her gaze swung. "What's new, Andrea, is just how deeply these … various beings respect you. Love you, even." I got a brief fierce look. "So good a daughter, from Prince Gwyn ap Lugh? You always have been, but …"

Andrea flushed again, and I half-thought about saying something, but coming between mother and cub is very seldom a good idea.

"It surprised me too, Mom. All I know is I've tried to do my job, but Mercy tells me I've helped the Fae in ways I'm not sure I understand. What makes sense to me is that she earned the cloak and the title Elf-friend, and some of that's rubbed off."

"Re-pish." Everyone looked at me. "Andrea, I told you on national TV you were a really good advertisement for people, and I'm not the only being who's noticed that, by a long way."

"But you're the one people are heeding, Mercy."

"And they know I don't come alone." Not any more. "Which is most of the point. In any case, Frank, Rachel, if Andrea's kept properly shtum, good for her, and be parentally proud as well as grateful both that you didn't know before, and do now."

"Oh yeah. We know that one." Rachel had an assessing look. "So how is all this tonight going to work?"

"General stuff over dinner, to which our earth fae are invited." I glanced at Andrea. "Pirandella's request. They're intrigued. Which reminds me." I grabbed a pencil and scribbled a note as Adam gave me an enquiring look. "Got into steaming vegetables with Underhill, and promised to send her an aluminium set." I waved off wolf looks of interest. "Once we've eaten, some of us will withdraw to broach trickier subjects, and perhaps make calls. I'm well aware there are potential deal-breakers in all this, and promise full disclosure, but I want you both to know what the deal that would be broken really is before I go there. Yes?"

"Ye-es. The deal-breakers are preternatural … secrets?"

"Partly, Rachel. National Security is involved, and the Man fully aware. So are wolves here, and Jesse, but neither Jenny nor Andrea, need to know not having been reached until tonight."

Her eyes narrowed. "Alright. Don't misunderstand, please — I very strongly approve of what you've managed to do in the last eighteen months, and I know you can't make omelettes without breaking eggs — but I am a lawyer and do not care to find myself on the wrong side of any law."

"But you recognise the need for separate but equal justice where the preternatural is concerned, as with Paul Harris?"

"Pragmatically, yes. It's a no-brainer. The principles to be enshrined in the letters of the law are trickier."

"True. If I win, would you be interested in helping to write them? It's high on the Farouts' agenda."

She blinked. "Farouts?"

"FBPA. No-one had a satisfactory vocalisation, so I made one up."

Frank laughed. "I like it. And I assume as any campaign will be under intense scrutiny staying legal is a priority."

'"Oh yeah, but with all rights to self-defence reserved. Some of that is for after dinner, but it's no secret plenty of BF and JLS types hate me, and there will be serious security, human and preternatural, so if weapons or magic have to be used at all they will very probably be used to kill."

Rachel waved a hand. "That's not illegal, or a problem. What concerns me, Mercy, practically and legally, is finance. God knows the rules are opaque and both parties wilfully corrupt, which won't stop them whaling on any infringement they find."

"No, but let me tell you what I'm planning."

I laid out what I intended in greater detail than anyone except Adam, Jenny, Andrea, and Brent had yet heard, and the kitchen was quiet except for cooking noises as Darryl sorted vegetables. As I'd expected, there was no problem with my platform, such as it was, but the spread of candidates, human and preternatural, in races at all levels, surprised them, and the finance plan made Rachel whistle. She nodded approval when I told them an auditor from the FEC had been arranged, and seemed to have no more doubt than anyone I'd get a ringing public endorsement. The last thing made people laugh, and I got admiring looks.

"Now that I'd pay to see, Mercy." Frank looked rueful. "You're making it very hard not just to give in to vanity and agree."

"No vanity involved, Frank. My primary requirement is a preterophile, because what we're really about is cementing the Medicine Wolf Accords."

"Yeah. Andrea said it was my thinking about that that caught your ear."

"It made a big click, because it's a prime reason the Fae are on board, and the Marrok and Elder Spirits. Ap Lugh is pragmatic about human inconstancy, but seriously wants the Man succeeded by someone they trust to observe the oath he swore, so habit beds down. It's not the only reason — Gray Lords always have several — but it's right up there. And as I told Andrea, the payoff is drawing the Fae onto the Path of Mercy. This isn't for now, but I have ideas about that for the Cascadia evacuation. A one-off event will be a good start, but the real point is SOP. And the Fae aren't unwilling, or Irpa and Þorgerðr wouldn't have helped with that avalanche, but they need … tickling. Very old means too inert, sometimes."

"Huh. Can't say Gwyn ap Lugh or The Dagda looked inert."

I grinned. "I've goosed them lately, as has Underhill, so no. But also yes. Because fae keep their word, always, they are rightly cautious about giving it, and since I killed Manannán and was given the cloak they've been wary of me, which makes a nice change but has not stopped them leaning on me in this, with good reason and some regret. I believe in quid pro quo, but leaning on Gray Lords is always a bad idea, I play coyote-in-the-middle anyway, and for many reasons presently have a bizarrely potent amalgam of magics and political power among a wide range of preternaturals and, apparently, citizens at large. So I feel an obligation to try to be a useful coyote, which I begin to believe I really could be, and as I profoundly agree the urgent human priority is to set our oath in stone that will not weather, that means getting it as deeply and widely institutionalised as possible. Laws, of course, and constitution, but also practical, common life. Bottom line, if preternaturals are respected, helpful, eventually necessary members of the polity, federal, state, and local, the prejudice that is the big danger can be maximally defeated."

I sat back with the beer Warren flipped me, popping the cap.

"If it happens, I'll have four years, and I'm talking about a process that'll take decades, so it's not only starting it, but starting it swiftly in ways that make it hard to stop. All sorts of stuff is part of it." I counted. "Forensics, which bring law enforcement in and build SOP. The Columbia Restoration, for co-operation in unbuilding dams as a national and international beacon for cleaner energy at lower cost through human–preternatural alliance. Given Elder Spirits so is re-emergent First People's culture. SAR, of course, because it's right, everyone can get with rescues, and it'll create a web of specific gratitudes as another kind of glue. And extensive reforestation that'll boost carbon capture. Underhill will be supplying trees, and that'll tie in with being aggressively green." More than Frank blinked but it could wait. "Then education — preternatural 101 for everyone in school — some of which'll centre on the Freed Pack at Wazzu, through Living Free and Moonbound, though there's a side plan for Public Safety films. And religion. I've made inroads, or Medicine Wolf has, but there's plenty more pushing to do to develop theology. There are other things, but you get the point. So the second big click, Frank, is that you're a professional educator specialising in American history and debate, by all accounts a very good one, and that's exactly what we need."

He was looking dazed, and I swallowed beer.

"I would want you to be a very hands-on Veep, with a brief in education. Preternatural school and college visits, conferences, whatever. Both the Paths of Assertion and Mercy make preternatural visibility a dominant mode. The haters had BF and have the JLS, however gutted, but what do 'philes have? So I'm asking if you'll help me organise the positive, because the bottom line is that if kids grow up wary and respectful, not ignorantly fearful, we'll be closer to the edge of the woods than we can get any other way. And Jesse'll be into peer-to-peer education and social media."

Jesse agreed, and I finished my beer.

"You all need time to think about all of that. I'm happy to answer questions, but if you'd rather have some privacy for a while, no problem."

Frank was lost in thought, but Rachel shook her head.

"We'll do that later, Mercy. And it'll be hard for me to ask Frank not to do this, as you know. You're as good in person as you are on TV." Her gaze sharpened. "And that's why you're doing this yourself, aren't you? Not just a wise insanity, but one it'd kill you not to try."

"Jesse?"

"That was my clinching argument, Mrs Lafferty. Things were seriously not good before Mom righteously lost her temper but never her cool with Cantrip, on Dad's and my account, and they could get that way again. Better to try to fix it, whatever the risks and even if you fail, than not try when you could. And I don't think we'll get another chance even half as good, so I'll add two things. One is that it's not coincidence I pushed Mercy as Andrea's pulled you. There aren't many people under 40 within the Beltway, but a lot of young people will be voting with our feet on this one. The other you must know but I'll say anyway. It's true Mom is often left-field, and just as true she is consistently awesome. You've seen some of it. I've seen more. And there is no-one more worth helping, any which way you can."

Despite embarrassment and mild exasperation — being coyote isn't left-field to me — I knew Jesse was calling it as she saw it, and she'd nailed Rachel dead centre as a mother. I gestured to Darryl to flip Jesse a beer and gave her a thumbs-up as I rose and grabbed an apron. The vegetables were good for steaming as soon as earth fae arrived, and the meat was done to a turn, so I set about gravy, hoping it would be as symbolic as tasty.