The Wild Ways (26 page)
“Amongst other things, talking to the family about what Auntie Catherine’s been up to.”
“And will they choose to support you over this older, more venerated member?”
“Some of them.”
“Oh, that . . . she’s just . . . I want to . . .” As the lights started to flicker, Allie forced herself to calm down. “Why is she doing it? Did she tell you that much?”
Charlie swallowed a mouthful of peach pie. “She says it’s because they’re paying her. You’ve got the Emporium; she needed an alternative income stream.”
“Do you believe her?”
“The aunties don’t tend to lie.” The aunties believed in telling the truth and enjoying the fireworks.
“So she’s stealing Selkie skins for an evil oil company?”
“I’m not sure it’s evil . . .”
Allie spread her arms wide in the universal gesture for
are you kidding me?
“It hired my grandmother!”
are you kidding me?
“It hired my grandmother!”
“Yeah, okay, that doesn’t look good, but that doesn’t make it evil.” Charlie, for one, had no intention of giving up cold beer, Belgian waffles, or amplified sound and all that required power. Power required oil companies. “Say, rather, unethical.”
“Point of interest . . .” Graham raised his fork. “. . . Harvard business school only recently started teaching ethics. Graduates had previously been taught you do what you have to for the company.”
“Which makes my point. Besides, we don’t actually care about the company, we care about Auntie Catherine and on a scale of one to ten, based on what an auntie
could
do, blackmail barely makes a seven.”
could
do, blackmail barely makes a seven.”
“Wait . . .” Jack swallowed a last enormous mouthful, licked a dribble of peach juice off his lip, and looked hopefully at the pie until Allie rolled her eyes and cut him another slice. “. . . there are Selkies here? In the MidRealm? Near where I’m going to be?”
“There are,” Charlie replied, reaching for her ice tea. “And you can’t eat them.”
“But they’re really good!”
“I don’t doubt you, but on this side of the gate, Gale boys don’t eat anyone they can have a conversation with unless . . . OW! Allie!”
“He’s fourteen.”
“And not stupid,” Jack muttered, spewing crumbs. “I have an internet connection.”
Allie folded her arms. “I’m seriously reconsidering sending you east.”
That lifted Jack’s attention from the pie, if only momentarily. “Graham?”
“Allie.”
“Fine.”
Wow. A whole conversation in three words. Charlie envied Allie that. A little. She definitely envied Graham’s improved ability to read Allie’s expressions because Charlie had no idea what her cousin was thinking as she cleared the table and stacked the dishes in the sink although she knew, from the set of Allie’s shoulders, that something was up.
Up
right now
, she realized as Allie turned to face her.
right now
, she realized as Allie turned to face her.
“Jack, lets you and me go out and grab some more butter and maple syrup.” Seemed like Graham realized it, too. “You know how many pancakes this family goes through post ritual.”
“But we’ve got gallons of . . .” As Allie moved closer to the table, Jack’s well honed sense of self-preservation kicked in before he finished the sentence. “Right. Good idea.” He picked up his pie in one disproportionately large teenage hand, shot Charlie a sympathetic look, and nearly beat Graham to the door.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Allie asked as it closed behind them.
Charlie kept her voice level, matter-of-fact, refusing to turn this into a thing. “I just did.”
“You’ve known for days.”
“I didn’t want to accuse your grandmother until I spoke to her.”
“You spoke to her Saturday.” Allie dropped into the chair next to Charlie’s and closed her hand around Charlie’s arm. “And why would I care about you accusing my grandmother of anything? She’s probably guilty of a lot more than you’ve discovered. If I had to choose between you, it’s not a choice.”
“I know, but you had a ritual to put together. I didn’t want to pump up your anger at her and distract you from what’s really important.”
“I almost believe that, except the ritual’s tonight, so I still have to pull it together and you just told me. Try again.”
“Look, Allie-cat, if you don’t like my reasons . . .”
Allie’s gaze never wavered. “I haven’t heard your reasons.”
She wasn’t going to let it go, Charlie realized. She’d sit there at the table, right through the ritual if it came to it, solemn expression in place, waiting for Charlie to admit aloud the conclusion she’d already come to. It was a second circle thing, this connecting the dots and assembling a conclusion; Charlie’s mother did it all the time. Allie was frighteningly good at it, considering she’d crossed not much more than a year ago. “Are you pregnant?”
“What? No! Stop trying to change the subject.”
It had been a long shot. “I, uh . . . I have a fiddler in my head.”
“And again: what?”
“Every now and then a lone fiddler shows up, plays a bit of music that’s more or less relevant to what’s going on and then buggers off until the next time.”
“An actual fiddler shows up?” Allie held her thumb and forefinger about six centimeters apart. “In your head?”
“Not an actual fiddler, no, just the music.”
“You’ve always heard music.”
“This is a little specific.”
“Then maybe it’s trying to tell you something specific.”
“You think?”
Allie looked smug. “I think you still haven’t told me your reasons. Nice try, though.”
With nothing left to deflect Allie’s question, Charlie took a deep breath and looked deeper. Listened deeper. Listened to what her own song had to say. Then considered lying anyway. Didn’t, but it was close. “This is mine,” she said at last. “Mark and Tom and Shelly and Bo, and through Bo and Gavin . . .”
“Gavin?”
“Another fiddler, another band. The point is the band is mine, the music is mine, and, through the fiddlers, the Selkies are mine. Or their problems are mine. And Auntie Catherine is a Wild Power, so her interference makes this even more mine.”
“And you thought I wouldn’t understand that?”
“I don’t . . .”
“You can’t tame a Wild Power, so you have to meet her on her own ground. Like calls to like. This . . .” Releasing Charlie’s wrist, her gesture took in the city. “. . . was about settling in. What you’re doing is about setting free, and you know what the T-shirt says.”
Charlie glanced down. “If we’re attacked by zombies, I’m tripping you?”
“Not that T-shirt.”
Grinning, Charlie blocked her swing. “I love you, but if you quote that at me, I’ll teach Jack the lyrics to every filthy song I know while he’s with me.”
“Fine. No quoting. You know, Grandmother was one of the ones who told me I’d never tame you. She’s a manipulative harpy, but that doesn’t mean she’s wrong. You do what you have to; just tell me how I can help. But first,” she added before Charlie could speak, grin broadening, eyes gleaming. “Tell me what’s up with Eineen. You glow when you talk about her.”
“I don’t glow.”
“You do. Like a giant firefly.”
“Male fireflies glow.”
“Charlie.”
“Nothing’s up.”
Allie leaned back and looked thoughtful. “It’s more than a crush, then. Is it love?”
“It’s not nearly that complicated. I just . . . want.”
“You want?”
Charlie concentrated on the last of her pie.
“Oh. I thought the Selkie glamour didn’t work on girls.”
With an empty plate in front of her, Charlie sighed. “Am I the only one who didn’t know that?”
“Possibly.”
“It’s not her. It’s all me.”
“Ego much?” Allie laced their hands together, and tugged Charlie around to face her. “You okay?”
“I’m not without options, Allie-cat.”
“Tonight’s third circle will . . .”
“No. Unless the aunties have moved another boy west in the last week, Cameron’s the only third circle male out here. He’s got the six off his list to deal with . . .”
“Seven counting Katie,” Allie amended.
“And you’re making my point. Jack and I will form a fourth circle and guard the perimeter.”
Nose Hill Park felt like an empty stage as the family began arriving.
Embracing her cousins, Charlie noted that the males were already showing full racks. Probably in reaction to Uncle Edward’s death—distance wouldn’t have stopped them feeling it—but possibly only in response to David who was waiting for them, silhouetted at the peak. Roland, Randy, and Dave, all second circle, wore their horns with an easy grace, but Cameron shifted under the weight of his, eyes wide and nostrils flared as he drew in deep lungfuls of air and forced them back out again, obviously ready to begin.
“Dude!” Charlie cuffed him on the side of the head as he passed, already out of his shirt and working on his shorts. “Pace yourself! It’s twenty minutes to midnight and this isn’t your first ritual.”
He spun around, looking for a fight, and deflated with no other male visible.
Not Charlie’s first ritual either. She’d timed it so the others were already most of the way up the hill and out of his line of sight.
“Are we anchoring third?” he asked, working his lower lip between his teeth.
“Not this time, Cam. It’ll be Katie, although she might give way to Melissa if asked nicely.”
He shrugged, muscles moving prettily under smooth skin—although she knew he had a scar along his right side where he and Dmitri had gotten into it a couple of years ago. “Don’t care who anchors, really. It’s not like I’m choosing.”
“Good. You choose now and the aunties’ll go off the deep end when they’re forced to relocate another third circle male.” And that would be fun for no one. The aunties believed in tossing others into the deep end with them. It was how most Gale girls learned how to swim. “But don’t worry. If it happens, it’ll be Melissa doing the asking. Now, get going before they start without you.”When he was about ten feet away, she sat back against the hood of her car and said, “You can come out now, Jack.”
A double image moved out of the shadows, Dragon Prince absorbed into the Gale boy. “How did you know I was there?”
“Your song got louder.”
“Really?”
“No. There’s a lingering scent of scorched gravel.”
He sat as far away as the narrow hood of the car allowed. The August night was warm, but Charlie could still feel the heat radiating off him. “So what do we do?” he asked. He was fourteen, a little less than a year too young for ritual, old enough he couldn’t stay still.
“I take care of the perimeter on the ground, you’re the air support. Calgary has police helicopters and while they don’t generally patrol at night, they do come out if they think something’s up.”
She glanced up to the top of the hill where she could just barely make out Allie standing in the circle of Graham’s arms. Even if her gaze hadn’t been drawn to them as they began to pull power, she’d have been able to pick them out of the small crowd. Graham was the only male on the hill without antlers. They’d all gotten used to that over the last year and it certainly hadn’t hurt to see him take Roland down without benefit of horn last spring. Next to David, he was the most potent male in the park. “Allie’s so connected the city responds, and ritual pulled the police out at midsummer. Drew them to her. You were off eating a buffalo, so Auntie Gwen had to deal with it.”
“Ow.”
“Little bit. Auntie Bea wants this one.” The three aunties stood around David, one at his head, two at his flanks. Although he wouldn’t change until it started, the four of them were already becoming difficult to see. If he was nervous about having their hands on him, given what had just happened back in Ontario, it didn’t show. “Auntie Bea,” Charlie continued, “is definitely an ow. I need you to get into the air and if the police show up, lead them away—preferably before anyone on the ground notices. Don’t let them see you, as you, but otherwise do whatever you think will work that comes with plausible deniability and no one getting hurt. Butterflies are not plausibly deniable, but in case I didn’t say it before . . .” She reached out and punched his arm. “. . . way to think on the wing.”
He snorted, the smoke nearly obscuring his face. “Everyone was mad.”
“Worried.”
“They sounded mad.”
“It’s a tricky distinction.” She stood and walked around to the backseat, pulling out her guitar. “But now it’s almost time. So, wings out and get high enough you won’t be distracted by what’s happening on the ground.”
Jack changed in a sheet of flame, emerging at his full size, and Charlie’s car shifted three meters back, tires dragging trenches in the gravel.
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