Chapter Forty-Eight
It was only for a second, but it was real. Directly in front of the Arch the current stopped, downstream water level dropping precipitously as the upstream side bulged, and Ol' Manitou River rose out of the trough before allowing the current to drain downstream again with a foaming rush that diminished to a patch of turbulence. The avatar was a good twenty feet tall, in First Person leathers, and the features were Amerindian, with the sharp nose and cheekbones of the Northern Plains, but skin-tone was darker than any native I'd ever seen, with that glossy sheen the darkest-complected African Americans can have. The hair was long, straight, and impossibly braided, like so much of the river, and the eyes like Medicine Wolf's, silver-on-gold and deep as time. It took a moment to survey the tableau, and when Coyote, fully human, gave a cheerful wave it raised one huge hand and headed to the bank, climbing the steps to Sullivan Boulevard in a single bouncing stride, and crossing the road in two. I started down with Adam and Jesse, and we met with it on the lowest landing and us beside Coyote on the middle one.
"How, Big Fellah."
How, Coyote. These humans are even more numerous than the buffalo once were.
The mindvoice was like Medicine Wolf's, but deeper, more Paul Robeson, and I saw Caroline and Penny straighten as they murmured to throat-mikes. Silver-on-gold eyes rested on me.
"Tell me. This is the one Medicine Wolf knows, my daughter She Doesn't Only Fix Cars, She Drops People Right In It."
I gave a knee dip, as did Jesse, and Adam bowed.
"How, manitou, sir. Is it still OK to call this form Ol' Manitou River?"
It is, She Doesn't Only Fix Cars. I like the song, the joke, and your gifts of music. That is a fine human talent. It looked around. This will be easier if I sit.
Two strides brought it to our landing, and it sat cross-legged with Amerindian ease.
The one of my kind whose guardian avatar you call Medicine Wolf advised me to read you first, to understand the contexts of this meeting most fully. Are you willing I should?
"I am, Ol' Manitou River, but I have one request. Did Medicine Wolf tell you about what we call sheets of glass? Insulation from bad memories that are stirred up?"
It did, and I will do likewise for all.
"Thank you. Please go ahead."
I met its eyes, and my life flashed before my own one more time, though flashing wasn't quite it. It wasn't exactly skimming earlier events, but it felt more like confirming what I assumed had been Medicine Wolf's account than deeper searching, and much more intense curiosity kicked in with recent history. My path to the Medicine Wolf Accords interested it a lot, as did Guayota, and especially the last few months, shimmering complexities and contingencies of today turning in my mind as it absorbed them. It was useful, something in the distorted time or magical matrix letting me see the shape that had been eluding me, with possible outcomes, and I was aware of its observation as I traced projections. Then magic withdrew, and Adam was grasping my hand.
"Nearly a minute, love."
Yes. Much was of great interest, and Medicine Wolf is a wise neighbour. You are a most complex magical being, She Doesn't Only Fix Cars, and your defeat of that wandering volcanic manitou a remarkable victory. Your present plans are also compelling.
It knew it couldn't mention vamps on a general channel, and was accepting my parameters, so I nodded relieved gratitude.
"Thank you, Ol' Manitou River. Meet my husband and mate, Adam Hauptman, Alpha of the Columbia Basin Pack, and my stepdaughter Jesse or She Steps Sideways Too, still at school but already rocking the world."
Adam Hauptman. Jesse Hauptman. Are you willing I should read you?
They were, and it did. It felt sneaky, but I was paying attention with my nose, and while the scents that came and went for Adam were familiar, Vietnam smells of fire, jungle, and death were a fair bit weaker than when Medicine Wolf first read him, and I rejoiced. For Jesse smells of fear and Kerrigan's blood were also weaker, though the Christy-scent that spiked with the present was newly laced with alcohol, breath mints, and a despairing contempt that abruptly dropped away.
Is that glass acceptable, Jesse Hauptman? The mindvoice came to Adam and me as well as Jesse, but no-one else, though I had no idea how I knew. Your feelings about the one who bore you are not mine to determine, but I offer insulation from their rawness.
"It is very acceptable, thank you, Ol' Manitou River." Adam and I had hands on her shoulders, and she turned to look at us. "It's OK, Mom, Dad. Just those Birth Mom Blues, a little."
Global TV or no I gave her a swift hug, releasing her to Adam and shifting to face Ol' Manitou River and shield them from Dwayne.
"Our thanks also, Ol' Manitou River. It hasn't been an easy week for Jesse, one way and another. But there are some who would offer formal greetings, and these wonderful people from all over your territory waiting on us. I thought we'd go by what we think of as tributaries, clockwise and downstream, then come down your main stem. Is that alright?"
You are welcome, She Doesn't Only Fix Cars. I do not approve of maternal neglect and abuse. And very much so — I am all about periphery to centre, more so than Medicine Wolf.
I nodded, because that made geographical sense, and set about it. First up were Missouri and the Mayor, holding down nerves, and Missouri set a precedent that mattered by consenting to be read, after which the Mayor had no choice. I added the PD Captain for awareness of law and the day's wider security arrangements, but breathed roses, not wanting to know their secrets, and from the calm all were left with there'd been enough bad for them to be given glass. Then Coyote spoke formally for Elder Spirits, Zee and Irpa offered the Fae's respect, welcoming the great manitou's renewed contact with humans and affirming willingness to participate in practical outcomes of the conferences, Warren, Jeremiah, and Ros represented wolves, I slid in Frank, Rachel, and Engineers, and we were on to representatives. Coyote tapped my shoulder.
"I've got things to do, and you don't need me here anymore. I'll be around, though. Good luck with everything."
With a farewell to the Big Fellah it acknowledged he went, and I shook off uncertainties. I started on the upper waters of the Red River, moving down to Shreveport, then north to the Ouachita, Cimarron, Canadian, with Oklahoma City, and the Arkansas from Pueblo through Wichita to Little Rock. It wasn't fast because Ol' Manitou River took a moment to say hello and check consent, with another after reading to map what we called its many branches onto its sense of itself, repeating river names. Slowly we got on to the Osage, Republican and Smoky Hill combining into the Kansas, Denver on the South Platte and Platte proper, Niobrara, Cheyenne, Little Missouri, Powder, Bighorn, with Billings, and Yellowstone. About a quarter of representatives were Anglo, an eighth Hispanic, but proportions of African Americans and First People shifted as we went south to north, west to east, and so did Amerindian faces, offering a map of somatypes. Next up was the Missouri main stem, Great Falls to Omaha and Kansas City, pulling in the Milk and James, with Sioux Falls, and the Des Moines, Iowa, and Minnesota completed the western lobe of the watershed.
The NPS guy had arranged drinks from the closed café, and I accepted chocolate that was a bit oversweet but welcome as we moved on to the St Croix, Chippewa, Wisconsin, Rock, Illinois, Kaskaskia, and Wabash, with Indianapolis. Columbus came with the Scioto, then Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, and Louisville in a rush as we went down the Ohio main stem. Home stretch was the Kanawha, Green, Cumberland with Nashville, Tennessee, and Yazoo, with a representative from Vicksburg I really liked who knew her Faulkner and Delta Blues. She hung us up a little with strong opinions of Robert Johnson's legacy I didn't mind at all, nor Ol' Manitou River, then it was the Mississippi main stem, Minneapolis to Davenport, St Louis and East St Louis, Cairo, Memphis, Baton Rouge, and New Orleans. I rotated my head, easing neck muscles, and Ol' Manitou River smiled.
There are many, but I am large, She Doesn't Only Fix Cars. I have never had so many names, but you have my thanks for this assembly of those who dwell within my territory and work my waters is most helpful. You have also assembled leaders of political divisions you impose on my scope?
"I have, Ol' Manitou River. As a cross-reference, I suggest going alphabetically this time."
Adam snagged me another chocolate, and on we went with assembled governors, the Mississippi Basin followed by helpful Columbians and uncertain Coloradans. We were through my hard-learned Mississippi Basin alphabet and on to Columbians when I heard Senator Stupid raising his voice to Oregon as she shifted past him to join the line.
"It is absurd this ridiculous arrangement has been allowed. You aren't even in the damned Mississippi Basin, and every one of us has been treated with nothing but contempt by that fucking coyote. Have you no sense at all, woman?"
Adam's arm tensed under my hand, and Ol' Manitou River looked at me.
"Not your problem, sir. Please go on reading governors."
The Senator's voice came again, over something from Oregon I missed.
"No I bloody well won't be quiet. This is intolerable. The arrogance of these preternaturals is—"
Whatever he said was drowned by roaring in my ears as I felt my eyes go hot gold, and I swung, cloak flaring and Manannán's Bane rising in my hand as I let loose a fraction of the power skittering under my skin.
"Be silent, Senator." I stalked towards him, Adam at my side, as his mouth worked and no sound came. "Do you know whom I last heard say something beginning The arrogance of you preternaturals? That's an interrogative, and you may answer only yes or no. Well?"
He tried to say other things but I waited him out, foot tapping, and eventually he spat out what he could.
"No."
"Surprise. The answer, Senator, is the late Senior Supervisory Agent Richard Preskylovitch, about thirty seconds before Medicine Wolf ate him." People froze. "You are not only making a complete fool of yourself on global TV, you are being a crassly rude nuisance. And as I find it telling it is a female governor you've chosen to swear at and insult, as well as me, feel free to leave. You won't be being introduced to anyone else today."
He goggled. "You have no authority to order me about!"
"Don't I, Senator? You're here at my invitation, and Adam and I are footing the bill to hire Gateway Park, as well as contributing to St Louis PD costs. What do you usually do at parties when the hostess tells you to take a hike? You must have some experience."
He goggled some more, but I felt Adam's rage tinge with amusement, and relaxed a little.
"You … you …"
"Me, me, Senator? You bet. Adam told you you had no leeway left after you tried to crush my hand. Your invitation is withdrawn. Time to go."
I wouldn't have asked it of him but the PD Captain stepped up, summoning two uniforms to escort the senator away, looking incredulous.
"I'll have your badge for this."
The Captain was unimpressed. "No, you really won't, Senator. And as threatening a police officer is a criminal offence, and you're so on record, you'd best zip it."
The uniforms went, the senator stamping outrage between them, and I thanked the Captain.
"Not a problem, ma'am. Handy being able to silence people like that."
I thought about the camera. "I'm careful about using magic, Captain, but it stops escalation, I won't stand by and watch abuse, and you'll understand people echoing Preskylovitch hit my buttons hard." He did, and I hoped others would. "In any case, the senator will have his time to talk this evening, if he shows."
And wouldn't that be fun? Adam and I went back down, talking briefly to a relieved Oregon and others before sitting beside Jesse again. Between governors Ol' Manitou River gave me a look, and spoke privately.
That was well done, She Doesn't Only Fix Cars. The gold that now ebbs from your eyes is interesting.
"So I'm told, Ol' Manitou River. It's because of our mate-bond."
Yes, but magic you took from the volcanic manitou deepens wolf-yellow to gold. Magic works very oddly around you, even by Coyote's standards.
It got back to governors and I quietly told Adam and Jesse what it had said. It was interesting, and Ramona would be tickled, but didn't need acting on. Jesse thought it affected how humans saw my rage, because the gold was beautiful as well as frightening, and I took that under advisement, wondering what Caroline or Penny might have said on air. On another day I might not have snapped so fast, though venting had been helpful, but if magically silencing rivals wasn't a good idea, Senator Stupid had blown it and people could think what they wanted. The sun was westering, lengthening the Arch's shadow across brown water, and Frank and Rachel had to leave for his lecture. The Secret Service took over, releasing Darryl, Auriele, and Joel to the trios on Adam, Jesse, and me, and as Jeremiah and Ros with their wolves were going to the lecture there were farewells with a lot of underlying tension. At last Ol' Manitou River was done with governors.
Thank you all. To understand your political administration is helpful if we are to work together. You draw boundaries for very odd reasons.
"Don't we? Anyway, the President and Secretary of the Interior will be here early tomorrow. Meantime, there are my rivals."
Apart from the women, who seemed to have decided that being on my side was the wiser strategy, they were not a happy bunch, acutely conscious of being marginalised but held in check by shock at what I'd done to the senator and scenting blood in the water. Several tried for good soundbites, but as only the women and three others consented to be read Ol' Manitou River wasn't much interested and sought assurances they would, if elected — it sounded dubious, and I held in a laugh — make its needs a priority, extracting from some a strangled yes and from most verbiage, though the women again did better. But time was passing, tension ratcheting up, thrumming between me and Adam, and enough was enough. I took the first pause that offered.
"And that's it for today, ladies and gentlemen, if we're to get ourselves to WashU in time. I have a motorcade waiting, and you have whatever. Some free advice, though — trying to flannel great manitous is foolish and counter-productive. Ol' Manitou River is really not in the market for snake oil by the yard."
Ol' Manitou River laughed, a deep barking huff of mindvoice.
She Doesn't Only Fix Cars is correct. I am interested in practical co-operation to reduce pollution, and willing to trade assistance with flood control and hydropower.
Its head suddenly turned, as if scenting, and swung back, mindvoice private to Adam and me.
Some Undead arrived, across the water. I cannot be sure how many for they were close together, and appeared underground, but perhaps fifteen or twenty.
My eyes met Adam's. Either number was a lot more than the daywalkers Wulfe had specified, but there was a seethe in East St Louis, near enough that translocation here would be close to instantaneous. There were also a lot of people present, and our thoughts twined while I became conscious of wider silence and stares.
"Thank you, Ol' Manitou River. Good to know. I expect you'd like to see the debate?"
If that can be arranged here. I do not care to travel through your cities.
I sought Missouri's gaze. "Governor? Any problem putting the debate onto a big screen here for Ol' Manitou River?"
"Not in the least, Ms Hauptman. We'd have put one up anyway if—"
"Right." I cut across him before he could say more, seeing his surprise and making a note to apologise when I could. If I could. "Thank you. It'll be under the Arch, I'd think, Ol' Manitou River, so only a step. Debate's due to start at seven-thirty Central."
That is well. I will talk to people here, and in that other park. Farewell for now, She Doesn't Only Fix Cars, Adam Hauptman, Jesse Hauptman. I am sure we shall speak again.
That sounded comforting, and as Ol' Manitou River stood and strode down to the water's edge and straight on towards the crowd in Martin Memorial Park I realised it was following my reasoning that even Bonarata would hesitate to attack in its presence, while not going too far away. The walking-on-water show was always good, and Al was tracking it while Dwayne stayed on me.
"Governor, we've arranged coaches for representatives and governors, on Walnut Street, and a way should have been cleared."
The PD Captain nodded. "In hand, ma'am. The coaches, your motorcade, and People Carriers are in the parking lot of the Basilica. You need to go back under the Arch and left to get on the paved trail. We keep them clear for emergency access."
"Sounds good, thanks. Representatives, governors, rivals, the Secret Service would be grateful if you could all start moving to the Basilica parking lot for onward transport to WashU. My party will follow as soon as you're clear, and Campus Security will be waiting at the lot there." I turned. "Oh, and Engineers, if at liberty to do so, you're welcome to travel with representatives."
Representatives and governors were primed to do as asked, Engineers accepted with alacrity, and rivals were pulled along. With everyone moving, I gestured Dwayne to give me space.
"Security confab needed."
He gave a thumbs-up, moving to cover the exodus, and Adam and I went across to the senior Secret Service guy. I spoke very quietly.
"Sorry to take your name in vain, Agent, but the attack probability just hit .99, so getting people away fast seemed a good move."
"Yes. What happened?"
"Manitou felt vamps arrive in East St Louis. Has to be daywalkers translocating, so anytime now." I shrugged. "Under the Arch, maybe. Symbolism. Pass word, but please don't be obvious. They'll be watching."
"Hear you, ma'am. On it."
We left him murmuring into a throat-mike, and did our own discreet word-passing while I was off-camera. Adam could do pack magically, and get a non-verbal alert to Ramona and Tom as fellow Alphas; Jill, David, and humans picked it up from body language but I did some murmuring.
"Maybe higher numbers than expected. Be prepared for multiple targets. And if it's in the open, with us all facing one way, I'd expect a pincer, different sides and heights."
Anything else I had to say was silent, for the cloak, and I could feel its readiness, a grain of slow time hovering over the plug-in switch, however that worked. Manannán's Bane was warm in my hand, Carnwennan's handle as hot as I'd ever felt it. Only the Glock was cool, ridged plastic grip a comfort to sweaty hands. The last governors disappeared over the top step, Dwayne's camera came back on me, and after a moment the Secret Service up there used throat-mikes and their senior nodded.
"We don't want a jam in the parking lot, ma'am, because it has way more overlooks than here, so we should give it another minute."
"Right. Thanks."
As I wanted Bonarata to have clear sight of us I waved Penny in.
"We'll be moving in a minute, Ms Ligatt. Interesting day so far, hey?"
"And how, Ms Hauptman. Ol' Manitou River is an amazing sight."
"Isn't it? What should we call that colour, do you think?"
"I have no idea. It's darker than what I'd call ebony, and glossier."
"Yeah. Onyx, maybe. Or obsidian. Jesse probably knows a dozen shades of black hair-dye, but I shudder to think."
Penny grinned. "Me too. More seriously, Ms Hauptman, I was shocked by the Senator's … crude chauvinism. Do you have any further comment?"
"Not about him, Ms Ligatt, but remember José Urillo saying racism, homophobia, and anti-preternatural bigotry are mutually reinforcing? Well, add sexism. It's more othering, and fuels escalation and ultimately violence. That's one reason I called National Committees and rivals on their failure to condemn the shots fired in Kennewick."
"Yes, I see that entirely, and those failures are shocking too. But your security's waiting on us, Ms Hauptman, so I'll just ask if you're looking forward to the debate?"
"I have been since I offered it, Ms Ligatt, and though I've been busy, some days time's just seemed to crawl, so it's good to be here at last." It was fortunate Dwayne's camera wasn't on her at that moment. "I believe you and Ms Taylor are attending, but not filming. Is that right?"
"Quite right."
"Then perhaps I'll see you afterwards, and if not, tomorrow at Sacajawea SP. Thank you for today."
"And thank you, Ms Hauptman. It's been a privilege to be here."
I doubted it would stay that way, but I'd given what warning I could, and Dwayne tapped controls, so he'd understood. I made myself wave at crowds as we fell into formation, two Secret Service guys taking point in front of me, Adam, and Jesse. When we hit the paved trail we'd have to be in column, but in the open spaces of river steps and green multiple guards behind each of us made for a football-shape. Preternaturals were mostly closer, because with faster reactions they were less vulnerable, but Joel and Vanna had dropped back with David's crew, Dan, and the Joes. Topping the steps produced a lot of noise as people saw us, but I was too busy scanning to offer waves. The route was as the PD Captain said, and I could see him standing just inside it, twenty yards beyond the Arch. Dwayne was walking backwards ten yards in front of us, Penny guiding him. Al had moved out for a wider shot, Caroline with him, and I wiped palms on my skirt and flipped open my holster.
I was straining magical senses but all they were telling me was that there was a great deal of it about. Somewhere distant, sensed though the cloak, magic that felt very old and deeply fae was building, and as I passed under the Arch I was aware of ambient magic drawn to the perfection of its geometry. That was interesting, but a timer was ticking in my head, one second, two seco— and vamp magic sliced space open, five yards in front of me and maybe seven behind, but well above.
Time dilation boiled through the cloak with far more power than I'd expected as I hauled on Underhill with all my magical strength. The cloak let me know I'd hit a ratio of nearly 50:1, and should dial it down. It's fortunate magic follows intent because I had no idea how the controls worked, but when I thought I wanted 20:1 for the extending field I knew the drop allowed it to spread faster and I'd come back to 30:1, which might be sustainable though I could feel calories burning. In the fragment of time that took vamp-sliced space ahead of me widened to show Bonarata, crouched to release Lenka Yakovlevna, on four legs, and when I spun vamp-slices in the air under the Arch were wide enough for me to see who was stepping through, carrying what, and nausea rose.
"Wha—"
Adam started to spin round as he was enfolded by slow time, and Jesse to gasp. The image that flickered in my mind was those drawings of space-time deformed by mass into a gravity well, and I was the planet at the bottom, time-dilation ratio dropping above me until it smoothed into the 20:1 I wanted. Getting out of gravity wells is a messy business, but getting out of this time well was just another thought, and as the world sped up a little, though still seeming glacial, I dropped Manannán's Bane with an apology, and drew my Glock.
Time dilation had reached everyone and I spoke as fast as I could. "Humans, target ten vamps forty feet up. Each is carrying a vamp that will crumble. Hit the ones behind. All preternaturals on Bonarata straight ahead. Go. I've got Lenka."
Bonarata had released Lenka and stepped forward, face beginning to register we weren't where expected. I brought the Glock up, realised the PD Captain was in line and took a sideways step, standing tall so I could aim down. Lenka's wolf had begun a spring that would bring it right onto me, jaws to face. The mouth was open, eyes wholly mad, and I felt a distant pity as I pulled the trigger twice. In peripheral vision I saw Bonarata rocked by chest hits as the back of Lenka's head blew off and light faded in her eyes, power cut from her spring. Which would not cancel momentum already imparted.
"Jill, go bear and stop Lenka."
I swung to Bonarata. Wooden slugs had swayed him, but there was no sign of crumbling. Silver slugs weighed more and two in quick succession to his centre of mass, with further heart shots from Adam and Jesse, made him stumble, twisting as impacts wrecked his balance, and Skuffles took him under a windmilling arm, jaws crunching across his chest. The impact knocked him off his feet, Grizzly Jill came past my left side, heading for Lenka, and on my right Irpa had dropped glamour, jumping over us with a stentorian shout, club high.
"Skuffles, get his head up."
Skuffles rolled her body to force Bonarata's jawed torso up, head with it until Giant-shortener spiked it and tore it off. But no blood was spouting, and decapitation was not going to work any better than staking because I could see the glitteringly wrong bond of magic between head and stump. There was black witchcraft that stank like a rotted abattoir twined with something that had once been fae and was infused with a ghastly pale light, vamp undeadness, and hundreds of ghosts somehow braided within it all.
"Irpa, stop that head escaping!"
I was too late, the head using the momentum of Irpa's swing to slide off Giant-shortener's spike and the bond of magic contracted, hauling it in, until a full-size Vanna leaped over me and Trouble-squasher caught the head several feet shy, carrying it away in an arc that ended with a crack against Giant-shortener. The clubs rebounded slightly, but the head, if uncrushed, was pinned, and need unfolded in my mind.
"Trolls, hold that head high. Preternaturals, keep the torso down."
I dropped the Glock and ran forward, cloak folding itself back as I called on Carnwennan, Manannán's Bane, and every magic I had, reaching through the cloak to Underhill, through the blazing magic of the triad towards Aspen Creek, arms extended, hands opening in readiness.
"Dewch ataf, Caledfwlch!"
Magic heaved, a great wave cresting. Something was happening Underhill I didn't understand, but Excalibur had heard and was coming at our call. It drew itself from its scabbard, angling as it passed through the Garden of Manannán's Death, and I gripped the hilt, feeling its power and perfect balance. Jill had slammed Lenka's corpse aside and caught one of Bonarata's flailing arms in her jaws, Coyote had appeared to stop the other beating at Skuffles's side, and Joel had landed on the torso's legs as magmatic tibicena. Charring flesh had not flashed into fire, but that didn't matter.
Marine Joe had never stopped singing the praises of Zee's dagger, and I knew how sweetly Carnwennan sat in my hand. Excalibur was in another league, a true pattern-welded blade with an immense amount of magic fused within its purity of form, fae-like, human, and with a wolfness that smelt of Bran. But the magics would have meant nothing without the perfection of the object. If you've never held a broadsword this might seem odd, but knights never put much strength in downstrokes. Hollywood gives its pretty boys customised swords with a balance-point where blade becomes tang, so they can twirl them menacingly in raking light, but real swords designed to help you kill things fast have a balance-point four or five inches downblade, and they bring themselves down. Cavalry sabres work the same way. But Excalibur had dropped into my upraised hands, and as I shaped the stroke I used desperate strength to accelerate it, drawing on time, reaching as deeply as I could into the magic that had always been mine, feeding it through the cloak. Some ran down Excalibur's fuller to spill to the edges, flickering blue fire, and the rest I sent in a direct, screaming strike at Bonarata's bond of magic as Irpa and Vanna stretched it out. My magic ploughed into his, shrieking an imperative to leave, to go on as ghosts should, and a tangled skein as dense as felted dreadlock ripped free, twisting grey in the air six inches further away than the cable of black and inverted magics that linked vibrating head to heaving torso.
"O dy ras, Caledfwlch, lladd fi yn awr y peth marw ond byw!"
I felt a jarring impact as Excalibur hit bond and ghost-braid and sliced through as it would a side of beef, ribs, vertebrae, and all. Fountains of sparks erupted from both, and I slammed another magical command at the braid, laced with sorrow and release. Wherever the ghosts had come from, they had been victims, ghosts as well as blood, lives, and bodies stolen, and a first lick of triumph flared when I felt their assent, revulsion, and ecstatic flight as Excalibur carved asunder the bitter witchcraft that bound them. There had been terror and vast guilt among them, but they were gone. What strength I had left went into slowing the blade, setting muscles against its cleaving weight, but as I saw the ghostless bond recoil from severance, raw ends fizzling into dust, my head snapped up. Bonarata's distorted face was terrible in its hatred and no less terrible in dawning terror as the dust raced up the shrivelling bond, and braided ghosts flared into nothingness. I thought his last word would have been a screaming No!, but it was incomplete when severance reached head and torso simultaneously and blew him into dust, a thick skein of vamp feeding- and Turning-ties flaring out of existence with him.
A microsecond later my mouth began to burn with the vilest acid rot, filth beyond imagining, and I retched uncontrollably, spitting sudden phlegm. Skuffles was in a worse way, hacking dust, and I forced myself to look back, but Glocks had done their job, leaving only a ragged line of dust and clothing on the ground and in the air. No-one was down, Zee had dropped his glamour and had a sword, so I let dilation go, gasping as I was dumped back into ordinary time and felt how much energy I'd burned. Hunger was flaring but had to wait, and as I took a step towards Skuffles, still choking, Ol' Manitou River appeared, eyes glowing concern, and ideas connected.
"Can you do salt water? Strongly salt?"
Of course.
It knelt, cupped hands brimming with water, and Coyote lifted Skuffles so she could plunge her muzzle in. Salt flooded my mouth, and I spat again onto Bonarata's reeking dust as water in the manitou's hands discoloured and was dumped before hands refilled. Three rinses were enough and while Skuffles shook herself with profound relief I looked round, seeing Adam holding a tearful Jesse, Joel back to room-temperature, and Grizzly Jill looking around. Laying down Excalibur with thanks on dust-free grass, I realised a smear of witchcraft stained its blade, wiped my mouth, called to Zee while gesturing, and ignoring the ache in my arms pulled out my phone. Dwayne was crouched five yards away, still filming, Penny wide-eyed behind him and the boom-mike still pointing at me. As the PD Captain skidded to a halt I held up a hand.
/Ms Hau—/
"Geronimo, Mr President. I repeat, Geronimo, Geronimo."
/On it./
I heard him snapping orders and looked at the staring PD Captain. "This was expected, and there are no casualties except bad guys. I realise you have legal obligations, but there is no current danger to the public." I looked around, seeing dazed shock in the crowds, then up. "Irpa, you and Vanna are loudest. Might you reassure the crowds?"
"Will do, Mercy." Irpa shook her head. "You are owed more than one round of Valhallan mead. All honour to you. I couldn't follow all your magic but his was as bad as anything I've ever seen. That dust should be burned."
"Fine by me. We might get an ever-black circle where the beast was burned, but at least we don't have a Snowmane's Howe."
She grinned. "There's that. But he needs sweeping up anyway, so I can cut back some turf."
"Better. But crowd first, please."
"Sure. Let's go be reassuring, Vanna."
I will do that also, and speak to the people here.
Ol' Manitou River rose, and I nodded.
"That's good, thanks."
/Everything's launched, Ms Hauptman./ The Man's voice came back as trolls went, calling out that an attack had been foiled and all was well. Ol' Manitou River followed them. /What happened? TV blurred for a few seconds, then there were animal-forms and dust everywhere, and you had a huge sword and a mouth full of something./
"That covers it, sir. Bonarata and twenty more dismissed, plus Lenka. AED should call the Tri-Cities now. They'll be in deep shock."
/He knows. What are the trolls … oh, reassuring the crowds. And Ol' Manitou River. Good job. And you've done that all day. How do you want to play this, Ms Hauptman?/
"Things to clear up here, sir, and I need to go Underhill to sort something, though that won't take much Overhill time. If you can assure the PD Captain he's good to let us clear this scene before we hand over to him, I can make WashU for a slightly late start. You address the nation, and I'll do details."
I watched Zee crouched over Excalibur, turning it and frowning. Jesse had dried her face but was still shaky from adrenalin, and many people had phones out. Al was closing in on Zee, but Dwayne hadn't moved.
/ Legendary vengeance is right, Ms Hauptman. Put the PD on./
I handed the Captain my phone. "The President wants a word, sir."
He took it as if it might bite his ear, but I could hear the Man being conciliatory as well as firm, and went to Adam and Jesse.
"All OK?"
Adam sent a pulse though our bond, joyous with relief but curling with contempt for Bonarata's tactics, curiosity about what he'd felt from me while it went down, and concern for my aching arms and hunger. Jesse swallowed and nodded.
"Just shock, Mom."
"I know." I knelt to hug her. "You were cool and smart when it counted. Your impacts helped rock him back for Skuffles. But you didn't kill or dismiss anyone. No need for nightmares, and the worst is history."
Adam pulled out an energy bar, and I all but ate the wrapper. It was the nearest I've ever come to a wolf's bolting, and hunger receded.
"Yeuch." Jesse flipped me water and I washed the last bit down. "Thanks. Next to Bonarata they're haut cuisine."
Tell me. Skuffles thrust her head over my shoulder, skulls rattling. I knew vamps tasted bad, but there isn't a word for it. A starving vulture would leg it in a heartbeat. Wingbeat. Whatever. Zee wants a word about your new sword.
"Mynew … right. Give Jesse a cuddle?"
Of course. She slid past me to flop down, head in Jesse's lap. Can you wipe my teeth? I've got salt residue, which is better than black witchcraft by a mile but still not good.
Jesse blinked, and I left them to it. Zee stood as well, Excalibur resting across his hands, but before I could get to him the PD Captain gave me back my phone.
"Mr President?"
/You're clear to do whatever you have to there, Ms Hauptman, and go on to WashU, but the police will need statements before anyone goes home. I'll let the moderators know they'll need to put me on as soon as you get there. But can you get those cameramen to find out what they've got if they slow it down? I need some sense of what we'll be seeing./
"Hang on." I held the phone away from my mouth so he could hear without being deafened. "Dwayne, can you get frame-by-frame playback on your monitor?"
He looked up. "Yeah, but I'd have to stop filming."
"Al, come be close coverage. Dwayne, the President wants to see what you've got."
iPhone video of a monitor is not ideal, but Dwayne had been at 850 frames per second, so Bonarata's and Lenka's translocations came in over a few hundred frames, daywalkers dropping sleepers whose crumbling was horribly clear. Soundtrack was crackle, but agents had hit seven of ten daywalkers cleanly in a first volley, and another in a second through billowing dust. Tad zapped one, and a leaping Zee, glamour vanishing between frames, decapitated the last, while Bonarata staggered, blocking Adam, Jesse, and me from view in turn. Jill's flying clothes showed as she stopped Lenka, and when Skuffles had taken Bonarata Dwayne had widened his shot as fast as he could. Giant-shortener and Trouble-squasher blurred when swung, but the decapitation was clear with failure to dismiss. The struggling torso pinned by Skuffles, Jill, Coyote, and magmatic Joel was clear, and the face of the reimpaled head, screaming shocked malevolence. The moment I'd felt Excalibur in my hands was there, eyes golden, and the flaring sparks streaking air against the billowing cloak. Then there was only dust and hacking spit, Ol' Manitou River appeared, and soundtrack came back as I asked about salt water. The Captain was watching, face pale with shock, and so was Coyote, with what I thought professional vampire-slaying interest.
"Thanks, Dwayne. Swap with Al so we can see what he has, please."
They did, but Al's footage was all wideshot, his top frame rate lower. I lifted my phone to my ear.
"Any urgent questions, sir?"
The Man blew out a long breath. /Only a million, but no. Holy God. You deserve a medal, Ms Hauptman./
"Wasn't me alone, sir, by a very long chalk. But I need to get on if I'm to be uptown anywhere near seven."
/Yeah. The moderators will wait on you./
"Thanks. I dare say my rivals can entertain them the while. Later, sir."
/You bet, Ms Hauptman. Good luck./
First things first. "Captain, anything to say?"
He took a breath. "Not with any legal import, ma'am. I'm reeling, but it's clear something came at you, and … doing whatever you all did was self-defence. You're all licensed to carry, and I have no authority over the Secret Service."
"OK. And without legal import?"
"Uh … a truckload of admiration and concern about public exposure to risk."
"Oh yeah, Captain, but we weren't generating it, and did all we could to bring it only on ourselves. Successfully. I hear you, but no harm, no foul. Everything about this was very complicated."
"I bet. What do you need to do here?"
"Get Lenka Yakovlevna, the dead wolf, back to human, and burn the dust. There must be a vacuum in the café. Can you get hold of it, with a clean bag, and enough cable to reach? Two vacuums and cables would be better. I've got some magical business that will not wait."
He nodded and I turned to Al and Dwayne.
"You'll need to give me space and no sound for a few minutes, guys. And don't worry if I leave. I'll be back."
The Terminator echo amused me as I swung away. Jesse had finished cleaning Skuffles's teeth and was piecing together Jill's clothing. Brent had a spare one-piece for Joel, whose clothing had not survived going magmatic, but nowhere for him to change. I told him the café would be unlocked, and went to Zee, wondering why he hadn't resumed his glamour.
"Dark Smith, thanks for that leap — camera caught it. Is Excalibur alright?"
To my complete surprise he gave me a bow.
"As Irpa said, all honour to you, Mercedes Elf-friend. And ja, she takes no harm, but I need my forge. You feel her?"
"I do, Zee. And that vile witchcraft. Fae magic needs a fae body, my foot. There were a bunch of ghosts in there too."
"Ghosts within Bonarata?"
"Yup. Braided inside the rejoining magic. If we go Underhill now, can you clean her and still let me get back here within a few minutes?"
"Ja. Are you willing I should take her first, and you follow?"
"You're asking me?"
"She is yours now, Mercy, in so far as she is ever anyone's, and happy to be so. You have done a great deed with her. Do you know what awaits you in the Garden of Manannán's Death?"
"Besides a duckpond? There was a lot of old magic doing whatever."
"There was. Excalibur is happy for me to clean her, but will not wish to leave you for long."
I thought about participating in a presidential debate with Excalibur on my belt, and gave up. I thanked Excalibur for its valour, and Zee left by arch with Tad. A quick conference decided Adam and Jesse would come with Skuffles, very happy not to have to lie low any more, Brent would stay on me, taking Jill's clothing, and Jill, still grizzly, on Jesse. Warren and Darryl were in charge until Adam was back. Everyone had dust masks and knew what had to be done. Coyote would see us at WashU. As Irpa and Vanna came towards us I found the PD Captain talking vacuums to the NPS guy, and let them know we'd be gone for a minute or five.
"All OK, Irpa?"
"Lotta concern but they can see you're OK. Ol' Manitou River's reading people, and they're happy about that. Where'd the Dark Smith go?"
"His forge, to clean witchcraft stain off Excalibur. I want to know what all that old magic was doing. There are also things to be said. Call it a post-post-mortem. Want to come offer eyewitness testimony?"
She blinked. "Wild unicorns wouldn't keep us away, Mercy. You are going to have some righteous power entering the Garden, but have a care."
"Always, Irpa. There are questions all the same."