Chapter Fifty-Three

I'd been unsure what my launch would actually be like, because I hadn't known what it would be following. Assuming I'd survive to be there hadn't helped calibrate anything, even before Ol' Manitou River and the debate got thrown into the mix. Given my mixed-race identity I'd always known I'd have to address ethnicity, and the representatives had clarified how, but if I had done a little daydreaming about zapping bony old Bonarata and all the barking bigots, and being able to waltz onstage without a care, it had somehow not occurred that waltzing is contra-indicated when wearing a broadsword.

TV coverage showed the crowd at Sacajawea SP was already enormous. The musical line-up attracted plenty of Deadheads, but First People, African Americans, and Latinx were out in force. Caroline and Penny would be there later, but other crews were working the crowd between talking-heads analyses that didn't know what to say. There was a festival feel, a desire to celebrate Ol' Manitou River, but also uncertain solemnity very aware of yesterday's death and dismissals, and frighteningly powerful magics. The net result was a crowd that murmured rather than shouted, and was despite its size very orderly. For new arrivals finding themselves disappointingly far back the number of repeater screens was a comfort, and there was a fine row of food stalls offering ethnic cuisines, all doing brisk business, and Amerindian craft stalls, which Jim had sorted.

Medicine Wolf arrived, trotting down the Snake, said hello on a general band, and wandered around before settling to talk to a large group of women, many with children, who turned out, when sprinting media got there, to be Pasco PD wives. They were charmed by Medicine Wolf, always tolerant of children's curiosity, knew Maya Lucas, approvingly lamented how discreet she was about me, because they hadn't had a clue what was coming, and like her knew exactly what knowing you were a target meant. Several had read the NYT op-ed, and said that while I'd done what it called cold courage to a high degree, uniformed police and FD personnel did that every last working day. I hadn't really thought about perceptions of hot and cold courage, but they left me feeling heartened although there were too many shining eyes. Some were down to feminist glee about tossing Senator Stupid out on his ear for dissing Oregon, but there was a quasi-religious she slew a devil and all his works quoting the Man that worried me, because I really hadn't, and a version of Andrea's she redefines awesome that might win votes but wasn't much use otherwise.

Medicine Wolf moved on to a mixed-race church choir from Portland, a veterans' group from Spokane, and some excited Yakama, and though accents shifted the story didn't. It was odd, because I couldn't deny I wanted to restore First People's agency as citizens, but hearing people say I'd done so was … well, plain wrong, for starters, there being a long way to go. I was watching in the den, people steering clear while the house hummed with preparations, but after a bit Jill dropped on to a sofa.

"Stop overthinking everything, She Doesn't Only Fix Cars."

"Overthinking?"

"Un huh. Leave that to other people. What you have is achievement shock. When you climb to apogee, you suddenly know how much further there is to fall. You didn't fret waiting, so why start now? Do what needs doing and let the myth look after itself."

"But the myth's a problem, Jill. Why do they all need to … I dunno, sacramentalise everything?"

"Coyotes. Myths happen because people talk, Mercy. Trying to stop them is a waste of time. You wielded extreme power yesterday and it doesn't matter if it was your own or begged, borrowed, or stolen because you were the focus. Extreme power has extreme results, especially when everyone on planet is an eyewitness. Bottom line? Of course they are all blown away, and so are you, rightly. Difference is, you know how to keep on keeping on. Just stop going broody and do it."

"Broody?" Despite indignation I had to smile. "Thanks for some old bear sense. Want a permanent job on coyote patrol?"

"Not much. But yeah, Momma's old bear sense. You know what I have a hard time remembering, Mercy? That you're only 34. I've never had your mix of magics, but psychologically I couldn't have done anything like what you've been about before I was ten times your age, and probably not then. You're wildly precocious, and twice as tough as they come, but you still have to do things for the first time and it's freaky."

Adam's hands dropped onto my shoulders from behind, and he kissed the top of my head before vaulting the sofa to sit beside me.

"Yeah, it is. Spot on, Jill." He looked at me. "I've just spoken to an unusually emotional Bran, who asked me to thank you for Lenka. Bonarata too, but mostly Lenka. I pushed him a little." Adam waggled a hand. "The Marrok's the Marrok, and he didn't want to be in a giving mood, but for my money there are two points. One is that about the only thing he has a gut fear of is black witchcraft, and though he'd outmatch any of us if he needed to, he knows he couldn't have outmatched Bonarata as you did. The other is that he and most wolves would have had trigger freeze with Lenka. He did know her, pretty well, I'd say, and there are some bitter regrets in there. Charles and Anna are on their way, and Asil's tagging along, apparently."

I gave Adam a kiss, and leaned against him.

"I knew Bran had hangups about Lenka. He wanted her released but if he could have done it himself he would have long ago."

Adam and Jill gave me looks, but the TV got more interesting as Bob Dylan walked onstage, and after a little throaty drawl saying the musicians thought they'd begin early as the crowd was so big, gave Medicine Wolf a tip of his hat, and launched into one of his better great manitou ballads.

"Huh. I don't think I want to be talking any earlier, but with the Man due and those crowds, we'd better be on our way."

"Yeah. I'll tell the Secret Service to saddle up."

That meant adding my many accessories, and though wearing Excalibur was absurd, I didn't want to leave it and it didn't want to be left. It also felt completely right, and the dress did set off its hilt and golden pommel, with Ceulydd's embroidered length and Carnwennan's white bone, so that was that. But after collecting Skuffles and Jesse and heading back down, I got a taste of probable reactions from the senior Secret Service guy, whose professionalism couldn't stop him staring at Excalibur for a long second before offering me a hand.

"Very many congratulations, ma'am. And to you too, Skuffles. It's good when a plan works."

"Thank you, Agent, and yeah, you bet, but we were also very lucky."

"Maybe, ma'am, but fortune favours the brave."

And coyotes, but Mercy's not wrong.

"No. The squad in St Louis ask me to convey thanks." He smiled slightly. "Your briefing left them scratching their heads, but they tell me you were very crisp with your orders when it happened."

"I tried. And I know we're all tough as nails, but are they all OK with what went down?"

"More or less, ma'am, thank you. The … sacrificed vampires are an ugly thing to live with, and we don't know yet about the psychological effects for humans of, ah, dismissing one."

"The heart doesn't do logic so much, and dismissal will soon be murder, unless it's justified vampicide, so I'd start with the same protocols for an agent who shoots a human."

"Yes, that's happening. We know how to live with what we sometimes have to do. It's just … well, there's some, ah, compound shock. Seeing what they're calling joint preternatural ops full on was quite an education."

"Shock wears off though vamp crumbling sticks in the mind. The accelerated consequences of every killing, writ large. We must get on but if anyone has a problem counsellors aren't getting, ask me or Adam."

"I'll do that, ma'am, thank you. And time's not as bad as you think — with those crowds we're taking you via US12 and Sacajawea SP Road. The President and his party will come the same way."

That made sense, and as we had a police escort the ride was one smooth swing, save some unpaved bumping to come in along the north bank of the Snake. It had its excitements all the same, because Skuffles felt entitled to some long overdue fun. Overnight cloud had cleared into a warm and clear late Spring day, so she wanted the roof open to stick her head out, though it gave the Secret Service hives. Everyone else thought it funny, and Jesse, behind us in a Hummer, sent a pic that caught Skuffles, ruff skulls and roses blown back, looking at a freaked pedestrian on Columbia Drive. Skuffles peered at my phone.

I only said hello, and wasn't it a nice day?

She said it again, several times, as we began to skirt the crowd on the unpaved trail, and despite having heard Medicine Wolf it did make people jump, though most recovered swiftly enough to wave and smile. The crowd was rippling excitement as we were seen, and Skuffles being a little deadpan goofy was a good note, a little song of levity to balance all that gravity. She also said hi to Medicine Wolf, who returned the greeting and headed towards us. The secure area including the mound and stage was much larger than for Warren's launch, extending along the bank of the Snake, and there was already a mess of people there, and more to come. Jenny and Andrea had arrived with Frank and Rachel, talking to Warren, Kyle, Jeremiah, and Ros, while Irpa, Þorgerðr, Vorðr, and Vanna were human-sized, talking to Dave Lemieux and Coyote, and Washington and Oregon were with Gordon, Bear in Momma mode, Wolf, Ramona, and a bunch of Freed. Tri-Cities PD Chiefs and Mayors were present, clustered round the Boss, and a silly number of state and federal bodyguards ringed the space. Our arrival brought silence, though I could hear Dylan singing 'The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll', and Skuffles's cheery hello deepened it. We disembarked, and as I greeted Medicine Wolf they got a look at me, from feather to flats, very much via Excalibur, and Vorðr gave a troll whistle.

"Hail the conquering heroine, Mercedes Troll-friend. Nice dress."

I grinned. "Isn't it? The conquering heroine is Skuffles, though."

We can share the honours, Mercy. And I seem to recall some trolls holding up their end. Or his end, anyway.

Preternaturals laughed, humans not so much, but it broke ice and I had a chance to greet people, wolves, and Elder Spirits, moved by Gordon's wordless blessing, Wolf's strong approval, and Bear's embrace of Jill.

"Good job, daughter. I'll do some feeding up." She looked me up and down. "You too, She Doesn't Only Fix Cars. That was channelling slow time?"

"And reaching for Excalibur. Burned lots of calories, but I can't recommend it as a diet."

Coyote slung an arm around my shoulders, laughing. "No. Your fine form continues, Lone Elk Stampede."

"Less of the lone, please. And you were in Cloud Cuckoo Land this morning." I looked at the others. "He wanted to graze bison calves Underhill."

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

"Right. But you already knew real ducks were out, so why suppose bison would do better?"

"I forgot. I expect it was all the excitement. Oh, and Ol' Manitou River sends regards. We agreed Medicine Wolf will teach it how to answer cell-phones, and you'll install one in Fort Defiance Park in Cairo."

"I will?"

But it made sense. Fort Defiance was at the Mississippi–Ohio confluence, and I could delegate. I checked with Medicine Wolf, who had already discussed answering phones with Ol' Manitou River, and went to greet Washington and Oregon, forestalling wondering respect with brisk practicality. Could they please talk to Illinois and the NPS chief at Fort Defiance to clear installation? It wasn't difficult, but had to be a very restricted number — one did not want to irritate a great manitou with cold calling.

"No, indeed." Oregon frowned. "But a hot line for serving governors … Do you call Medicine Wolf often?"

"Only at need, ma'am. Manitous are curious about any number of things, but not big on small talk. It's possible the human form of Ol' Manitou River's contact avatar will affect that, but I wouldn't count on it. I'm also unsure if it matters Medicine Wolf had mindspoken me before we tried it by cell. I could ask, but a strict rule that only someone a manitou knows personally can place a call would be sensible."

Washington nodded. "Right. I know Illinois fairly well, so I'll make that call." He shook his head. "You induce getting things done, Ms Hauptman. And yesterday was … well, my heartfelt congratulations on everything."

"And then some." Oregon nodded sharply. "I can see you're uneasy with the praise you deserve, but there are practical consequences. Sticking to our own immediate business, I think quite a few Mississippi Basin governors are hoping to make it out here today to offer endorsements."

"President's giving them a ride in Air Force One. You've decided to tell the National Committees to take a hike?"

"Not quite, but it's heading that way." Oregon looked unhappy. "In any case, finding anyone still willing to run against you is going to be uphill work. You've spoken to the President today?"

"After he left St Louis. Matters vamp arising."

"I would imagine. You were responsible for the FBI briefing that hit our inboxes immediately after the, ah, attack?"

"Preternaturals were, via Westfield. I apologise for the secrecy, but everything was need to know."

"I bet. We were just getting on the coach when we heard noise, and the Secret Service knocked anyone standing flat. But it was only seconds before they told us there'd been an assassination attempt but you and everyone were safe, and hustled us out of there. We were all gaping when every phone pinged. It might have been funny if it hadn't not been."

I smiled. "Un huh. I know about that one. If the attack hadn't happened you'd have got the briefing today, because the European end was about to blow anyway. You should meet Skuffles."

That kept them busy, and I said hello to the Boss, hearing the Dead join Dylan and gathering he'd soon be on too and they intended to jam until I spoke and some more afterwards. He was warmly respectful, which was nice, but knew all about real people and oversize legends, which was better, and teased me by saying many more songs were called for as soon as he could get his head around it all.

"Do me a favour, and make it the Ballad or whatever of Skuffles?"

He laughed. "That'd work. 'Bad Mouthful', maybe." He scribbled in a notebook. "And I have to ask what Excalibur was doing in Seattle?"

"Being hoarded, mostly. It got caught up in some wolf politics around coming out, and wound up in the Marrok's care for a while."

"And now it's yours?"

"So it says. A lot of swords have some hunger to be used, magical ones more so. You could say I made it an offer it didn't want to refuse."

"You made Excalibur a job offer?" He scribbled again, and shook his head. "Way to go, Mercy. And those representatives are wonderful."

"Thanks. We have to bite that bullet, and I'll be saying so today. Some will be here, by the way. President's giving them a ride. But I have to go be nice to mayors."

I was too, politely refusing to show Excalibur despite exasperation with the request. A naked desire to nab personal media time for its own sake also failed to impress, and I held the line on invitations to Celilo Falls, but with a deep breath broached what might happen if, and the idea of a western White House in Kennewick pleased them better. The PD Chiefs were less of a trial, and had business, Rodgers telling me Clay had had a spotlight moment when the watching station had seen the attack and a call this morning from St Louis PD.

"Willis doesn't mess about, but when he said it was vampires and that was why all the dust and no bodies I thought he'd flipped. Then the FBI email came in, and Fisher came by after sunset to brief me on what happened ten days back and deliver wooden rounds. Amazing. She'd hoped to be here by now but the President's bringing more people than expected so she's scrambling extra transport."

"He is — governors and representatives."

"More governors endorsing you? I'm not surprised, Ms Hauptman, but the main parties are falling apart almost as badly as vampires do."

"Let's not go there, Chief, however I made that walking dead crack at Senator Stupid. Oops."

All three laughed, and Munday raised an eyebrow.

"You were mentally calling him that last night?"

"Guilty as charged, Chief, but I'd rather not say so in public."

"Don't see why you shouldn't. Truth defence would be absolute." He grinned. "And God knows I'm not objecting, but we need to get you a permit for a blade that long."

"Already sorted." I had my Washington license. "Covers guns of any calibre to .500, and blades of any length."

"Huh. CIA special. Only ever seen one of these before."

"Adam, Jesse, and the bodyguards are licensed in every state. We didn't know how deep into any campaign the vamp thing would run, so we covered the bases."

"Yeah, you do that a lot, I notice. Good job." He looked round. "Someone wants you, Ms Hauptman."

I turned and found myself given a hard hug of relief by Charles in best buckskins, making the cloak gust roses, then another by Anna, in a lovely red dress. Asil wore flowing Moorish clothes, and contented himself with kissing my hand.

"Mi princesa."

"Hello Asil. Charles and Anna I was expecting. Business or pleasure?"

"Both. It is more fun to be here than to watch TV, and I would offer respect in person. Yours was a great deed. And now you no longer need to keep me in reserve, I thought I might serve as a welcome distraction for the media. Charles told me what you plan to say, and I am perhaps not irrelevant, but it need not be today if it doesn't fit for you."

My mind spun. "Mmm. That's very kind of you, Asil. Are you sure?"

"It is well, querida."

"OK. Thanks. I found it hard to plan today because everything was so contingent, so I'm having to play it by ear. What would you say?"

"That I have seen much intolerance, and know what its results look and smell like. The Caliphate and Reconquista, Witch Wars, most of last century. Also that I saw Bonarata come, and despaired of ever seeing him go. Who was it you quoted to St Louis PD?"

"Um … what quote?"

"Crying to the end, 'I have not finished'."

"Oh, that. Hill. Geoffrey. British poet my Wazzu history prof used teaching the Wars of the Roses, and that line stuck, because don't we all? Some others too."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. A battlefield — Towton, I think — he says was stuck with strange-postured dead. It was during a cold snap, and they all froze. Made me wonder why no-one who writes battle scenes ever deals with clearing the field afterwards."

"I shall read him, querida. Two good lines imply more. And I may have to make the Aficionados de Mercy an official fan club, you realise? You have quite outdone yourself in style."

"Oh hush, Asil. Don't you start."

"But you have, little sister." Charles's look was warm. "The image of you and Excalibur with sparks, framed by the Arch, has already been sold by PBS for enough to run their network for a year. They asked about tithing to a new clean up the basin fund."

"Rats. I hope they're paying Dwayne properly."

"They will if you tell them. And you must face the symbolism, Mercy."

"Must I, big brother? Jill told me with old bear wisdom to get on with what needs doing and let myths look after themselves."

"That is one strategy. Or make sure you own the myths."

"Easier said than done."

"How's Jesse? She did very well yesterday."

"Didn't she, Anna? OK, but ask her yourself. She's talking to Warren and Kyle. And be warned Skuffles, being off the leash at last, is feeling frisky." I looked round. "She seems to be deep into it with Irpa and Dave Lemieux — probably a Dave's Picks cover he wanted. He's the Dead's archivist, and she seems interested in acting or modelling."

Even Anna gave me a fisheye, and it occurred to me Skuffles would make a very decent hound of the Baskervilles or the pookah in Harvey, which should have been a coyote not a rabbit anyway, but I was saved from that line of thinking by swelling disturbance in the crowd and sight of a very extended presidential motorcade.

"Oh lord, here we go again."