Chapter Fifteen

It didn't take me long to realise the earth fae were being as political as I'd ever seen, reminding me of Pirandella's remark about following my politics. I hadn't said anything much to her or Nuthatch lately, but ap Lugh or The Dagda might have — or Underhill — and they'd gleaned enough about Frank and Rachel from Andrea over the months that they were right on target.

I'd still been stirring gravy when they arrived, and Andrea had done introductions. Pixies and brownies can be seriously … cute would be wrong, but winsome, say, when they want, and they did, reporting in more detail than Adam but not a fascinated Rachel wanted about their garden plans, and the imminent arrivals of trees for us and the Freed, who'd also be getting some earth fae to tend them. That was Adam's business, but the discussion flagged fae help in protecting Freed from paparazzi with the gratitude felt towards them as helpful fellow prisoners in Cantrip's hellhole, which nailed Frank as well as Rachel, again. There was also repeated praise of me as an Elf-friend, and when Rachel pushed some straight talk about what it meant to honour an outsider Underhill chose, as ancient law decreed, that continued as Adam carved and I dished vegetables. For a moment earth fae were in communion with steamed snowpeas, but with the edge taken off Pirandella got back on track.

"This is a living example of all I meant, Rachel Lafferty. Earth fae, wolves, avatar, and humans sit together, breaking bread. Simple, is it not?" She speared a snowpea, and if you think crunch and dainty are incompatible, watch a pixie eat. "After Mercedes Elf-friend rescued four of us from torment, with other fae and wolves, we sought balance, to return kindness for kindness as we must. So Prince Gwyn ap Lugh, far-sighted for us, spoke to her and Adam of how it had once been, when we were loved for our service, allowed to dwell by land humans tilled and welcomed to their greater feasts. So it had been since time out of mind, and in wilder places so it was into what you call the Middle Ages. Yet we here are the first of our kinds in this continent to find again our ancient way, and the first anywhere in almost a thousand years."

She got back to eating, while Nuthatch took over.

"How it may seem to humans I cannot say, but to us there is a plain and potent link between this long-desired renewal and the effect Mercedes Elf-friend had on Underhill by daring to invoke her justice against Manannán mac Lír in his madness. In any new place ways must adapt yet remain true, and so it is here." He shrugged delicately. "Earth fae have ever sought to dwell Overhill, for we must work and Underhill needs no tending. To find purpose and fulfilment again is a joy, and the greater as we extend the way we have found to others. Those who come will gladly dwell by the Freed and tend their garden, and that is only a start."

I kept my voice offhand. "Wouldn't do to make all the garden staff redundant on day one, but I'd have no problem with the Rose Garden getting some brownie and pixie love. Nor to the very positive publicity."

Rachel gave me a look. "That's just sneaky, Mercy."

"Yup. Coyote-girl here, Rachel. I change the rules. There's this, though. If you'd like earth fae to help with your garden, and you'll swear to defend them, providing food and milk with occasional gifts of clothing, and to invite them to break bread with you on greater feasts, they'll make you the offer whatever Frank decides. As a politician" — I shuddered — "which the President really has to be, I can't not do sweeteners, but I do not blackmail friends. There are more ways than this both of you can contribute with full strength to the policy I've been arguing."

I got a more measured look. "Sneaky, like I said."

"Honourably sneaky. File under coyote chaos and wise insanity."

There was a pause.

"Yes. Andrea's been very clear you do your best for everyone, however eggs get broken, and though you've been quiet for a while you've been completely consistent in everything I've ever heard you say." She sighed. "This is going to be a form of hell, isn't it?"

"Probably, but it depends on your values of hell. The Beltway for four years fits mine, so if it happens I'll be back here by cloak every day I can, and if you want to stay home in legal practice I don't mind dropping Frank off. And God knows there's plenty of truly serious legal work to be done."

"Oh yeah." She considered me. "And if I wanted an appointment?"

"Anything you're qualified for is no problem for me. I don't know what any laws say about Veep spouses. Your work's civil, yes?"

"Un huh."

"Then if we get there, talk to Kyle. He's undecided whether going Fed for a while is better than pursuing his practice with more connections."

Warren had a wry smile. "He'll go Fed, Mercy, if you offer him anything serious. Especially if I become a state senator." He looked at Frank and Rachel, and I held my breath, seeing Adam and Darryl freeze. "This is one of those wolf secrets, Mr and Mrs Lafferty, for a while yet, but I'm older than I look. Knee-high to a grasshopper next to earth fae, but still. And if I run, which is probably gonna happen, I have to come clean about that." He looked down for a minute. "Old beings don't like talking about it, because they've lost too much. I've outlived my parents and siblings by more than two centuries, and it still hurts. But Mercy's teaching me how age can be a political strength, and I can see we're gonna need it. So as Mercy will be endorsing me, as and when, you need to know I'm gay, Kyle's partner, and I was born in 1776." Warren flicked me a glance. "Mercy says my slogan should be Born with this nation, and still fighting for it."

"Or Gay since 1776 and going strong."

There was huffed laughter, and Warren grinned, if a little weakly.

"That one'll be unofficial, Mercy. Kyle will slip it out somewhere."

I was watching Frank, who'd laughed but was looking thoughtful.

"Amazing. None of that's a problem, Mr Smith, but it'll cause a stir alright. And your 250th should be something." Frank looked at Adam. "You're the same?"

"I'm only 68, Frank, and not one werewolf in fifty makes it into three figures. But those who do can keep right on going, as Warren has, and though this probably won't come out we have a few in four figures. The same is true of avatars, and Mercy will not die unless killed, but they have to be born that way. From a wolf perspective, the biggest problem after this breaks will be discouraging wannabes who won't survive the Change, and several strategies will kick in — one's for later, but the big one for you is framing it all as historical witness rather than immortality knocks."

"Un huh. Besides preternatural witness there is First People's history to set straight. If we make it, that'll be one symbol of a first Amerindian POTUS. The fae are way older, of course, but I've asked if those running will join history round tables and ap Lugh's good with it."

Frank shook his head. "And the mouthwatering inducements pile up."

"As before, Frank, if you decide against, no door is closed. You'd be a good moderator for that sort of thing."

"Gramps is in, Mr Lafferty. My not-exactly step-grandfather. He's a good storyteller, too."

"Of tall tales, Jesse. But yeah, he'll be straight up about this."

"OK." Frank was enthused. "Are there any witnesses to major events?"

"We're finding out. I've wanted to know for ages but getting the truly old to remember is not so easy, never mind agreeing to speak about it."

We cleared and I served loganberry crumble, telling earth fae the unseasonal greenhouse bounty made me glad and being assured they were happy with the results. The speed with which portions disappeared and a young paean to stewed fruit puddings drew a question from Rachel that led to a really interesting account of what textures they did and didn't like, and why overcooking soft fruit was OK but doing it to vegetables wasn't. Andrea was mostly silent, her appreciation of fae tempered by careful observation of her parents, but talked to Warren about coming out and if there was anything she could do. Jenny, another observer, asked too, and I could hear Warren's appreciation in his laconic answers.

Like Adam, Frank was a coffee man, even this late, while Rachel liked green tea, and Jenny and Andrea were coming round to my views on hot chocolate. We left the earth fae helping to stack the dishwasher, and went to Adam's study. I felt as nervous as I had blowing the whistle to Leslie, but after formal warning that what I'd be saying was maximally classified for reasons of national security, lives on the line, and securing necessary oaths, Adam put the vampire briefing on screen, and after indrawn breaths there was silence for a while.

"So. There are vampires, and they are mostly bad news — bad enough that neither Fae nor wolves were willing to out them unilaterally, despite a high level of irritation and visceral dislike. Avatars fought them hard and took heavy casualties. If a vamp gets in someone's face all react — I've dismissed four in self-defence, and wolf policing dismisses a score or so each year nationwide, mostly unsocialised newbies, and we can't usually get to the older vamps who Turned them and are the real problem. Public outing, though, would incite a unified, very angry vampire attack, so despite the needless killing of humans used as foodstock, which really gets to me, preternaturals have kept shtum. I have exactly one vampire friend, and know one other I think halfway reasonable. But the Medicine Wolf Accords meant mutual alliance, inter-preternatural and human, which is a game-changer and leaves us feeling dishonest about not telling vampire all, while my real hurdle in deciding to seek to run was that I could not ask for human authority and remain silent. Questions?"

Frank shook his head. "Not yet, Mercy. What's the other shoe?"

"The reason I had to do this tonight is that tomorrow night there will be a conference call between the Marrok, Gray Lords, Elder Spirits, the Man, the directors of the FBI, CIA, ATF, Secret Service, and Farouts, and the Joint Chiefs of Staff, to agree an ultimatum that will be put to Iacopo Bonarata, self-styled Master of the Night. Vamps who come out and sign up to a Code of Conduct, which amounts to no feeding, mind games, or Turning without informed adult consent, will be good — a clean slate for the past, but no tolerance of infringement in future. Those who won't sign up will face alliance strikes. Avatars can find vamps, wolves outmuscle them, Underhill has grown wooden bullets for Glocks, though we have no confirmation they'll work, and Federal Government will provide Special Forces and SWAT, as well as handling international diplomacy."

Frank's face was still. "So I'd be signing up to this crusade."

"Yes, but while there will probably be some deaths and many dismissals, the aim is reform, not genocide or ethnic cleansing. I've made that stick with Gray Lords and Elder Spirits, and I will with humans, which is why I pulled in AED Westfield and insisted the operation be civilian-led, however military personnel are involved. And there's a third shoe, though it's no more than informed guesswork."

It took a while to tell them about Wulfe, She of Livorno, and why ap Lugh and Nemane cared, but as I laid it all out I found myself coldly certain I was right about what Wulfe was up to, though there were layers of motive that were still opaque. I added Marsilia, Stefan, and Thomas Hao, with an outline of what I intended when I made those difficult calls, and — another deep breath — what Adam and I expected to happen, with the augmented defences already in place. All Lafferties were staring.

"You're deliberately using yourself as bait, Mercy?"

"I have no choice, Andrea, if I do this at all. Shooting — or biting — the messenger has worked for vamps for a long time, and no-one has forced Bonarata's hand for centuries, so chances are high they'll try it again. But if we can force him to use vamps who daywalk, not a common ability, and take them out when they try, Wulfe should be able to dragoon the rest." I shrugged. "I do not like the … dismissal toll there will be, but it's better than the present and future human death toll, and when all's said and done all we want is a vamp version of the Medicine Wolf Accords."

"I get that, and on this data it's not a problem for me." Andrea might be a little ditsy about the preternatural but knew it came in seriously bad as well as good flavours, and I saw her parents' eyes narrow. "It's you risking yourself that bothers me, Mercy, not just because I like you. If you were killed by vampires and that went public, there would be a lot of rage, enough to start a … pogrom, maybe. It's a huge gamble."

"Yeah, but it's vamps who make it that way. Bran's warned vamps repeatedly they need to come out, but Bonarata doesn't seem to get it."

"Bran?"

"The Marrok, Frank. It's another secret for now, but his name is Bran Cornick, and he's my adoptive father. I grew up with his sons, Samuel and Charles, and his pack."

"Huh. Charles would be Charles Smith?"

"Yeah. Smith is just for humans. He's another of our bicentenarians, but Samuel and Bran are way older. So are some vamps, and exposing their ages is another strategy for ameliorating reaction to wolf and avatar ages. We can talk to Bran in a bit, if you'd like."

Andrea wasn't distracted, nor Jenny.

"It's still a fearsome risk, Mercy."

"Tell me."

"It keeps things legal, though." Jenny wasn't happy but was thinking hard. "God knows what the civil status of vampires is, but without proof of victimising people attacking them has to be dubious. If they do the attacking, though … well, I see what you mean about self-defence, Mercy."

"Un huh. Their status, provisionally, is that if they were citizens when breathing, and have paid taxes properly, with some latitude for those like Stefan, who's been in Spanish New World territories since the 1600s, they still are. Illegals who sign up can become naturalised, those who won't get deported or restrained in very strong plastic coffins."

There were more stares.

"Says who?"

"Says the Man, Jenny. We only did outlines, but did discuss it. And he's also willing to take a call, Frank, if you want. He'll be endorsing me if I run, and you."

"He's breaking party lines?"

"So he says, Rachel. Doesn't think anyone who's declared is up to it, and that the party system is unfit for purpose anyway."

"He's right about that, God knows. But if Andrea doesn't like the risk to you, I really don't like the risk to Frank."

"No more you should, Rachel, and if that's a deal-breaker I more than understand, but I am doing all I can to mitigate it. My, or our, bodyguards would include Irpa, or other trolls, glamoured human and with troll clubs, and Jill Widepaw, an avatar of Bear who has a form, he tells me, that is much more grizzly than black. The slow time Underhill's offering I can't demonstrate, because it really is for emergency use only, but there is one more joker in the pack."

I put on the cloak, and Skuffles materialised with a coyote grin, making everyone except Adam, Jesse, and me jump. They'd seen it on TV, of course, when we'd dealt with Heuter's lawyers, but even Andrea hadn't been around when it was out to play, and looked charmed. I'd never tried explaining Skuffles from scratch before, but Frank had a right to know, so after some mutual naming I ran through my need to deal with Adam's and my rage about what we'd found in Wyoming, and slap down Leah Cornick, with the inspiration of Irpa's tribute tattoo, and the extra magic all sorts of beings had contributed. When I added that even ap Lugh said there was no name for what I'd done with my amalgam of magics Skuffles gave another grin before padding over to sit in front of Frank and Rachel, tongue lolling. She looked nonplussed, but Frank looked happy.

"Ah, hello, Skuffles."

Hello, Frank Lafferty.

That made everyone jump, including me. Skuffles gave a coyote laugh.

I have been looking forward to surprising you, Mercy. I know language because you do, and I am you, in a sideways fashion, but I lacked the magic to speak mind-to-mind, so I asked Coyote. He thought it was funny.

I bet he had, but despite surprise I found myself very happy, if confused about a not-exactly me. Adam looked more dubious, but that eased as Skuffles showed Frank and Rachel just how blindingly fast it was, and what kinds of dentition it packed.

If you are under Mercy's protection, you will also be under mine, Frank Lafferty. Vampires are fast, but I am faster, and if there is always risk, I look forward to surprising them also.

Despite everything that gave me warm feelings, and Adam. How reassured Rachel was I wasn't sure, and I knew I had a talk with Jenny in store about legal headaches Skuffles might occasion, but something about my surprise had flicked Frank into teacherly mode. I answered a series of sharp questions about the magics I'd always had and acquired from Guayota and Manannán, speaking as plainly as I could, then more that turned on my ethics of violence and predation. Those were complicated, and I was open about lives I'd taken in self-defence. Tim the rapist was my only straight human kill, but I'd racked up a wolf or three as well as four vamps, one Faerie Queen, the River Devil, and Manannán mac Lír — not one of them any kind of weight on my conscience, however I had nightmares sometimes. Adam, ever conscientious, added his own tally of wolves, with brief explanations, vamps and humans of the Cantrip variety, with longer ones, as well as alluding to Vietnam with a shrug.

"Mercy and I are predators. Blood in itself does not bother us or we would starve. But I was human once, and my human is in charge, so I have ethics as well as imperatives. The bottom line is that, like full-out combat, preternatural opponents usually mean kill or be killed. I do not kill without compelling reason but with it I do not hesitate."

Jenny sighed. "Most of this is new to me, Frank, Rachel, because these two have had the sense to keep it quiet. But the Bennet business was signed off on by a senior Cantrip guy, and on what I know there's nothing I couldn't defend in court with all sincerity."

Rachel had questions, but seemed more outraged at what Cantrip had done than at anything done to them, and Frank just waved a hand.

"Maybe I should be bothered, and Rachel and I will need to sleep on this and have a long talk, but I can't say I am. Anyone starting violence is fair game, and most people feel the same. But I'm struck by how often you've had to deal with attacks, Mercy, Adam, and risks accumulate. Then again, you both seem good at surviving. And while I'm still trying to get my head around vampires, what's striking me is your ethics of silence before and action now. Integrity about that counts for a lot."

"I need to like what I see in the mirror, Frank. And though my coyote doesn't give me the problems with rage wolves have, before we were all out there wasn't any alternative to looking out for myself as lethally as necessary. Now there is, so I'm taking it." I checked my watch. "If you want to talk to the Man I need to place that call. Bran's on Mountain time."

Frank blinked. "You just call the President when you want?"

"When I need. I have his private number. Doing things his party really won't like through the switchboard is not such a good idea."

"Figures." He gave a crooked smile. "I have a nasty suspicion this will make it all seem real instead of an amazing dream, but I won't turn down a conversation with the President if he's offering."

I made the call, told the Man of ap Lugh's and The Dagda's approval, and introduced Frank, Rachel, Jenny, and Skuffles, who got a long look. The humans were all standing, and the Man waved a hand.

"Mr and Mrs Lafferty, Ms Lafferty, Ms Trevellyan, do sit, please." He was alone, and although had a glass of something amber, but went into brisk mode. "Mr Lafferty, Mercy only gave me your name today, and you don't seem to have anything much on file beyond IRS data, travel records, and property ownership, but Google tells me you're a superior teacher and debate coach and a longstanding supporter of gun control. Is there anything not on file or Google I should know?"

"I don't believe so, sir. I've done my share of marching, but I have no criminal record, and no vices I'd need to be publicly ashamed of."

The Man waved a hand again. "OK. Now, if anyone else with that low a profile was proposing to run for any federal office I'd tell them to forget it, but for Mercy's running mate you seem perfect. Since I've known she was thinking seriously about it I've been wondering whom she'd ask, and discounting every name that crossed my mind. I'm endorsing her because we need someone fresh who will strictly uphold the Medicine Wolf Accords, and she has the best shot for an independent I've ever seen. I thought so before this whole vampire thing came up, and it has only cemented my conviction." He shrugged. "Even if she doesn't win, simply thinking about running has made her cook up another workable if weird plan for dealing with a serious problem we only suspected, so the nation comes out ahead already. And if it breaks during the campaign in the way we're expecting, and we get it right, I'm going to enjoy watching her wipe the floor with all the business-as-usual candidates."

Frank, if bemused and on edge, was good with that, but he and Rachel had straight questions about how vamps were going to be dealt with that got straight answers. Westfield had been promoted to Acting Executive Director (Preternatural), and though secrecy limited what could be done in advance an executive order and legislation had been drafted, about status as citizens and dismissal as murder,. The military were freaked but intrigued by wooden slugs, which also grabbed the Secret Service, while someone was seeing to plastic coffins and injectable foam. Nothing diplomatic had happened, but pumps had been primed. What I'd said to Leslie about sheep had gone straight to the top, and budget had been earmarked for medical care. All in all, the Feds were accepting my ethics with my plan, and the Man made it clear other advice had been rejected.

There wasn't much more save an earnest request that despite the dangers and hassle Frank seriously consider accepting, for the national good if not his own, and a brief discussion about events tomorrow. Then I called Bran, so both parties could put a face to a name, but I surprised him by telling him Coyote had taught Skuffles to mindspeak, though it didn't yet have Medicine Wolf's way with technology so he had to take my word for it, and threw in the Fountain of Uphill Justice, receiving one of his looks promising a longer conversation later. Frank became more serious to ask about separate but equal justice, and Bran shrugged.

"My overriding concern is wolf safety, Mr Lafferty, and old habits die hard, but I am clear that everything that can be dealt with openly should be. I cannot promise we will never sort something out among ourselves, especially leadership challenges and the like, but where there are human victims the Accords require federal notification, and I will no more be forsworn than Gwyn ap Lugh." Bran's gaze switched. "Adam, brief on wolf business at your discretion. Andrea has been very helpful and unfailingly kept confidence." And switched back. "You will know from Travers that a senile wolf is a very real and present danger. Had I known, I would have had him killed, for there is no other way. But for such as Paul Harris a silver-barred cell is well enough, however he had earned death."

Paul had won his case against Sarah Clements, collecting considerable damages while splattering her, her father, and the JLS with a great deal of toxic mud, but was going to have to wait eighty-something moons before spending them. Frank's brow creased.

"Because he betrayed Adam?"

"That is Adam's business. He made a leadership challenge on national TV, Mr Lafferty, endangering all wolves. Only Mercy's unexpected possession of Carnwennan avoided disaster, I am not swift to forgive idiocy, and as I once told the Man, I have not ruled North American werewolves since 1800, keeping them in check, by being nice."

And that was that. Once we'd rung off there were questions Adam and I answered, confirming Bran's unknown but considerable age, and giving background on Paul. Saying Bran was probably the source of the Grendel story didn't seem necessary, though I did tell them he was the present holder of Excalibur. I also offered to take Andrea back to Philly with them, and collect her in the morning, but given the time zones she decided against, though she would again accompany me both ways.

"When do you need a definite answer, Mercy?"

"Naming the ticket when I give the first interview next week would be good, but assuming a positive response formal announcement the week after would do. If you're going to decline, though ..."

He thought, looking at his wife and daughter while I crossed fingers. "OK. I need to sleep on it, do some listening, and square up to myself, but I can let you know by Sunday, one way or the other."

I couldn't ask more, and with a delay while we found Nuthatch and Pirandella in the garden to make farewells, I took them home, Skuffles coming for the fun of it. On the way to Philly the Garden of Manannán's Death was deserted, the only sound the murmur of water, but on the way back Brent, Andrea, Skuffles, and I found Irpa contemplating it. After greeting Skuffles and raising eyebrows at being spoken to, she had questions about filing a federal candidacy Andrea could answer, and a couple for me on ap Lugh's behalf about tomorrow. I relayed what the Man had said, and when we were home Andrea gave me a long look, eyes bright.

"Do you ever weird yourself out, Mercy?"

"Often, Andrea, but what's a coyote girl to do?"