“They’ll grow back,” he said. “But not in time to help me here.”
“Mine won’t,” I said. “Not if the brownwings get me. That… thing that happened before and held them back. Can you make it happen again?”
“What ‘thing?’”
I realized that, since he hadn’t seen the fairies smack into the invisible wall, he thought we’d simply outrun them. And I didn’t know how to explain. But I figured I had to try.
“When my phone blew up-when you made it blow up-I felt like I was shaking inside. Then, when all the brownwings were about to catch up with us, I felt the same thing again. For a while after that, they couldn’t get at us. It was like there was something in their way.”
“A ward!” the old man said. “But none of the others would help me. We haven’t cut any deals. And you say you felt something?”
“Yes.”
“Hold still.”
After a second, something bumped my chin. Startled, I jerked back despite his warning. He made an impatient spitting sound, and then his hands fumbled their way around my face, like he was trying to figure out how I looked. Meanwhile, he snorted and snuffled. It all made my skin crawl-he felt as dirty as he looked and smelled- but I didn’t push him away.
Finally he said, “You’re one of us.”
“One of who?” I asked. The plywood covering a window creaked as the brownwings pried at it.
“One of the Old People,” he said. “Or at least you have a drop or two of our blood. And when I used your arms to aim my jinx, I sparked you.”
“I don’t know what any of that means.”
“I woke your gifts. Which you then used to hold the brownwings back.”
“I did that?” Even though that was more or less how it had felt at the time, it was still a hard idea to wrap my head around.
“Yes, and it was the only work you’ve performed tonight. You’re young and strong. Maybe you can do more.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know! Stop telling me and
I tried, essentially by imagining as hard as I could. It started a kind of echo shivering inside me. I wasn’t sure if it was all just memory and wanting or something more.
“Maybe I’ve got it,” I said.
“‘Maybe’ is no good!” the old man snapped. Blowing right into my face, his breath was as rancid as his BO. He sprayed spit, too. “You have to trust the power.”
“All right,” I said. “I trust it.”
“Now imagine force streaming out of you like before, only this time, even stronger. Strong enough to smash every fey to pulp.”
I tried. I tried to be an atom bomb that only blasted fairies. The vibration shot out of me.
My strength went with it. My legs gave way and dumped me on the floor. I banged my head against the door as I went down.
The brownwings all buzzed louder. In their death throes, I hoped. But then the noise got softer again, and the door hitched open a crack. I didn’t have my weight solidly planted against it anymore, and, still alive, healthy, and pissed-off, the fairies were shoving it.
Floundering in wood dust and termite wings, I threw myself against it. It cut off a tiny arm as it banged shut. The room went completely dark again.
Along with the buzzing, snaps and crunches sounded all around. The fairies were picking and clawing their way in wherever they’d found a weakness.
“Useless,” the old man growled. For a moment, I’d given him real hope, and it had energized him. Now that I’d crapped out, he sounded ready to give up.
“Screw you, too.” Awkward because I had to keep bracing the door, I clambered back onto my feet. “I could have run away like Pablo. I didn’t have to stop to help you in the first place. Hell, maybe if I let the brownwings in, they’ll concentrate on you and leave me alone.”
“I don’t recommend it. You already made yourself their enemy, and they don’t forgive.”
“I wouldn’t really do it anyway,” I said. “But I could use some help, as opposed to just hearing you bitch. If using these… abilities is all about imagining, then it seems like you should be able to do it blind. Hell, maybe you can even do it better.”
“No,” he said. “My anatomy’s not like yours, and my brain doesn’t work like yours. With my eyes gone, I can’t visualize. That’s why someone sent the brownwings after me early, when murder would breach custom.”
“Then they don’t want to kill us?” I asked. Not that going through life like Helen Keller seemed a whole lot better.
“They won’t kill me. It doesn’t matter what happens to you.”
The house kept popping and crunching as the brownwings tore it to pieces.
“Okay,” I said, “let’s see if I can get the shaky feeling going one more time.”
“Even if you can,” said No Eyes, “I doubt it will do any good. You have no training. It was a fluke that you were able to accomplish anything before.”
“Remember when you said I need confidence? You’re not helping.”
“Very well. Try, then. Tell me when you have it.”
I tried until I was straining like you strain to make out tiny print. All I found was an aching, empty place.
“It’s been a long time since I was anyone’s vassal,” the old man said. “I never thought I’d have to go back.”
“Right,” I said. “That’s the really bad part.” Then the vibration shivered out of the center of me. “Wait! I feel it! What do I do with it?”
“I don’t know. The forbiddance came naturally to you, but you can’t make it strong enough.”
“Then think of something else!”
“Your only hope is to try something else that seems natural and right.”
In that case, we were probably screwed, because how could anything about this situation seem “natural?” But I tried to think of things I liked, things I did all the time. Cards. Backgammon. Pool. The T-bird… which we could drive away in, if only it were here.
I reached for it with my mind. I pictured it sitting in its parking spot on Seventh Avenue and wanted it. I hadn’t really thought any of this through, but I guess I hoped it would vanish from beside the meter and appear at the shack’s front door.
Instead, I shot up out the top of my own head. Then I could see. My body glowed red, and the old man’s glimmered blue. The few sticks of furniture someone had left behind shined too, though nowhere near as brightly.
My body fell down. Fortunately, the old man comprehended something of what was happening. Tripping over one of my outstretched legs but staying on his feet, he scrambled to the door and held it shut.
I’d heard of “out-of-body” experiences, and about then, I realized I was having one. It’s scary when you’re not expecting it. My first impulse was to jump right back in.
But that would just mean I’d be there to feel every slash when the brownwings clawed me apart. I’d tried to do something that would save the old man and me, this was the result, and I needed to run with it. I visualized the Thunderbird again.
I rocketed right through the ceiling and out into the night. Some of the fairies on the roof sensed something and pivoted in my direction, but I was hundred feet above them before they finished twisting around.
I streaked south, over roofs, trees, and power lines. I was going where I wanted, but it didn’t feel like I was flying like Superman. It was more like I was a leaf blowing in a hurricane, or a rider on the world’s biggest rollercoaster.
I shot over the branch campus, then straight through a water tower with an ad for one of Ybor’s cigar companies painted on the side. Then I dropped like a rock.
