Advanced Mythology (5 page)

More than one person had wondered aloud, once the thrill of owning their own home had worn off, whether they had done the right thing and wound up in the right place. Half the Conservatives had declared the house unlucky. To Holl’s horror, several were campaigning to be put on a ship or jet airplane, no matter what, and sent back to the Folk who still lived in Ireland. If their fears were forcing them out into the world, away from the safe haven they had created here, things were bad indeed. He wished he could consult with Keith, but he’d been forbidden. Even the Master had suggested Holl relied too heavily on Keith’s assistance.

The Master was right, of course. Keith had been invaluable so many times that it was easy to take him for granted. Now that they were out in the world again after half a century, they ought to learn to be self-sufficient in
all
their needs. That included working out social pressures that came with their new liberty.

Perhaps, Holl thought sadly, following the others around the barn, they were not ready to live unprotected. Perhaps the transition ought to have been gradual, though Holl had no idea how that could have been accomplished, with or without Keith Doyle. They’d had to be so very quiet, both physically and magically, while living in the basement of Gillington Library. Now voices were freed and magic was loosed—and people did not like it when they couldn’t feel the protective walls around them. Holl noticed that a few of the Folk no longer went outside except to race between house and barn as though enemies lurked all around them, just out of sight. Not that Holl hadn’t felt the sensation himself, though he put it down to uncertainty rather than scrutiny.

All the same he wished he could talk it out with a sympathetic and technically disinterested ear. Keith ought to have insights that would be valuable to Holl. If nothing else, it would be good to talk to someone who didn’t live in the middle of the problem. Every time the doorbell rang, everyone jumped halfway out of their skins. Every time a truck drove by on the bumpy country road, everyone braced themselves to scurry to a hiding place. It was at the Conservatives’ urging that the repulsion spell around the property had been strengthened to a point that pained those that must pass through it. Gradually they were turning what was to be a home in touch with nature into a secured camp. They couldn’t go on like that, but Holl didn’t know what to do to turn it back.

***

Chapter 4

Beyond the old barn, now given over entirely to the production of wooden goods, the Folk had built a pole barn to contain their farm equipment. A gravel drive that intersected with the original driveway led out around the front of the house to serve it.

Keith glanced over his shoulder at Holl, trailing behind them, as he crunched down the slope toward the oversized door.

“What’s with Holl?” Keith asked Marcy in an undertone he hoped wouldn’t carry over their footsteps.

“Why do you ask?”

Keith made a face. “I always get suspicious when people answer a question with a question. There’s something eating everybody. The farm is not as … happy-go-lucky as it ought to be.”

“Really, there’s nothing specific,” Marcy said, nervously.

“Uh-huh,” Keith said, with a dubious expression. “Well, it doesn’t seem okay.” She looked so alarmed that Enoch cleared his throat with a pointed “ahem!” Keith relented. “Never mind. I’ll get to the bottom of things, once I’m down here again for the year. What’s this present?”

“Take a look,” Marcy said. With a flourish, she threw open the pedestrian door beside the large one and flipped a switch.

“They bought you a
car
?”
Diane exclaimed, as the overhead lights flicked on. Looking like it was there by mistake beside the muddy animal trailer, the tractor and the rusty, vintage harvester was a dark green Chevrolet Suburban. “Holy cow. Look at the size of the thing. I like the color.”

“I know it’s not really a car,” Marcy said, with a laugh. “It’s a truck. And it’s really almost more a present to
them
,
since I run all the errands they can’t. It’s got heavy shocks for carrying wood, high-traction tires, and a trailer hitch. And it gets awful mileage. I don’t mind. It handles well. It doesn’t feel industrial. They’ve done things to the suspension and the seat to make it comfortable, and it’s not noisy at all. It’s nicer to ride in than my parents’ fancy car.”

“Nice,” Keith said, flipping up the hood to examine the engine with the avid interest of an amateur mechanic. “I’ve seen these going for thirty, forty thousand dollars.” He stopped, and looked at the others suspiciously. “Where’d you get the money?”

“Fair and square, Keith Doyle,” Enoch said sourly.

“eBay,” Marcy explained. “The computer’s only been here for a couple of months, but you know how fast the Folk learn. Once they saw how many different things people were selling, Tiron carved a bust of Candlepat out of beechwood, and we put it up on the web for sale. It sold for nine hundred dollars.”

“Wow!”

“It could have gone for more, but we didn’t want to attract too much attention,” Marcy said. “But we bought a digital camera with the proceeds. They made more things, all of them one-of-a-kind carvings, good ones, photographed them and uploaded the images. Those auctions are fierce. You ought to see how fast the price goes up.”

“I’ll bet,” Keith said, doing calculations in his head. “What about merchandise for the gift shops?”

“Oh, the bread-and-butter pieces are still being done. Not everyone is good enough to create high-end art, but we …” she paused, blushing.

Enoch took her hand and squeezed it. “Ye can say ‘we.’ You’re considered one of us now.” He glared at Keith, daring him to contradict the statement. Keith held up his hands.

“Hey, I’ve already stopped seeing the difference in height.”

Enoch gave a curt nod. Marcy made a little face and continued, her confidence restored. “
We
are thinking of making the higher-class art a business.”

“Well, I hope they don’t stop doing the bread-and-butter,” Keith said. “I need the commissions.” He started to say more, but realized Diane was in the room, and clapped his mouth shut. A surprise wasn’t a surprise if the surprisee heard about it in advance.

“You’d do better on the commissions from fine art,” Enoch pointed out. “It would be worth your while to visit galleries as our representative.”

“Why not?” Keith said, thinking of moonlight and blue velvet boxes. “I’ll need a nicer suit.”

“Have you not seen the television reports from art galleries? They wear nothing but plain black. That shouldn’t be expensive.”

“Now there you’re wrong,” Diane said positively, getting into the spirit of things. She’d made no secret of the fact she wanted to see Keith start dressing a little more fashionably. “
Armani
black will set you back several hundred dollars just for a
shirt.
”

“Armani black is an expensive color, then,” Enoch said.

“You have no idea. But if Keith wants to look the part, he’ll have to get some.”

“I’ll look like a lighted match,” Keith said wryly, tugging at his red hair. “But anything for a sale.”

* * *

“So, you two,” Diane said, as they locked up the barn and headed up the hill toward the house, “when’s the wedding?”

Marcy’s face fell. She came to a halt and clutched Keith’s arm. “Could we wait to go back inside for a moment?”

“Is there a problem?” Keith asked.

“Oh, not with them,” Marcy said, gesturing at the lighted windows above. “I just don’t want any of the others to hear. Not this. You’re the only ones who might understand. It’s my parents.”

“Should I go away?” Holl asked.

“Should I?” Diane asked. Marcy caught at the other girl’s hand.

“Oh, no. If you could help …”

Marcy looked so desperate, Diane dropped the jealousy that had been brewing inside her, and her mother-hen aspect, as Keith called it, manifested itself. She squeezed Marcy’s hand comfortingly. “Whatever I can do. What we both can do. Right?”

“Right,” Keith said at once. “Dr. Ruth and Dr. Spock at your service. Only Enoch’s got the ears. What’s up with your folks?”

“Well … they don’t really like the fact that I’m living down here with Enoch. They’ve been after me to introduce them to him, but I’m still nervous about it. I’m trying to find a good way to bring up the subject so they won’t reject us immediately. I tried to tell them the truth before.…”

“But they weren’t exactly receptive to having an elf as a son-in-law,” Keith finished.

“No. The subject is especially a sore spot with my mother. Mom already hates the idea that he’s a … woodworker.”

“She ought to feel lucky,” Keith said at once. “Anyway, Enoch’s not just a woodworker, he’s an artist. Look at that cabinet he made.”

“She’d be happier if my fiancé was a doctor or a lawyer.”

Keith scoffed. “Anybody can marry a doctor or a lawyer.”

“But the biggest question,” Marcy said, dropping her voice to a near whisper, “is how I bring up … his height.”

Keith and Diane nodded. No one was fooling themselves by pretending that it wouldn’t matter how different Enoch was from Big Folks. The ears and the magic apart, he was the size of a preadolescent boy, with a face to match. It would take particularly special parents to get past that right away, especially if they hadn’t met Enoch under circumstances where they could get to know his personality before they judged him on his appearance. Which they couldn’t, since their daughter had already said she was going to marry him. Keith wondered how his own folks would have taken it if his girlfriend was one of the Little Folk. Marcy looked upset when he grinned.

“I’m not smiling at you,” he assured her. “I was thinking what it would have been like if our situations had been reversed.”

“How would you get your parents to come around?” she asked quickly.

“Oh, well, it’s not really an equivalent situation,” Keith said, giving her a sheepish smile. “I can’t remember a day in my life when I wasn’t talking about legendary beings. In fact, my parents were probably
expecting
me to come home and tell them I’d married a fairy woman. I hope they weren’t too disappointed when I started dating Diane. Oof!” he said as Diane punched him in the arm. “It’s just as well, though. It’d be a heck of a commute from Fairyland to Chicago.”

“What can we do to help?” Diane asked, putting a hand over Keith’s mouth.

Marcy held up her hands helplessly. “What should I do? How can I convince them I’m not kidding? He’s a good man. I really want them to like him. I … I can’t push them.”

“I,” Keith said, holding up a declamatory finger, “am an expert in the art of push. I offer my services as a go-between. Your folks used to like me. I’ll be happy to go convince them that neither Enoch’s occupation or species, if you want to call it that, are detrimental to your future happiness, but the fact that they won’t give you their blessing would.”

“In two-dollar words or less,” Diane added.

Marcy smiled with relief. “That’s exactly what we need.” He’d never stepped over the line with her, and had always given his support to what she really wanted. “You’re a true friend. It won’t be easy. My dad’s even more set against it than my mother.”

“The difficult we do right away,” Keith said loftily. “The impossible just takes a little longer. Is this what you wanted to ask me about this afternoon?” Keith asked Enoch.

The black-haired elf nodded. “I didn’t think you were listening, the way you hare off after every newest idea to come your way. Fair Marcy is grieved over the way her parents resist her intentions.”

“They think she’s still a child, huh?” Keith asked sympathetically.

“That’s the long and the short of it,” Enoch said glumly. And, catching the gleam in Keith’s eye, added, “none of your attempts at wit, eh? They’re as sorry as your spell casting.”

Keith caught at his chest in mock protest. “I was doing fine! That pigeon was a work of art!”

“Aye, well, it’s good my father isn’t instructing you in that. You’d not have graduated yet.”

* * *

When they returned to the farmhouse, Pat was doing a spirited impression of the director of his latest play.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Pat shouted, pointing at Keith. “You were much more red-headed when you came in before. Do it
again
,
and give me
intensity.
”

“So, vhat do you think?” the Master asked. Over the teacher’s head, Marcy gave Keith a frantic look not to mention what they had been talking about.

“It’s a great present,” Keith said, giving her a calming nod. “You’ll have to let me know how it works out for you. Pretty soon I’m going to have to think about replacing my old car. For the time being, though, it’ll have to last me.”

“What if something comes out of this Chicago call?” Enoch asked.

“What Chicago call?” Diane wanted to know.

Keith explained the conversation he had had with Dorothy.

“Oh, no,” Diane said unhappily. “So you’re going to be up in Chicago now? When did this happen? We were going to have so much time together this year.”

“It’s only a potential opportunity,” Maura said placatingly, “not an actual one.”

“It’s just one meeting,” Keith added. “I get a chance to show off. Maybe I can cadge a lunch out of Dorothy, and I’ll be back before Wednesday morning. Don’t worry! The whole thing will probably go nowhere. I’m just glad they’re still thinking of me at PDQ. That means there might still be a door open for me after graduation.”

“I hope it will work out for you, Keith Doyle,” Holl said. “Harnessing that hyperactive imagination of yours to work for a living would be good for you.” But Keith could tell Diane didn’t like the idea.

“And since you will be back among us do you intend to continue in your instruction under my tutelage?” the Elf Master wanted to know.

Keith was delighted. “Can I? That’d be great. But I thought you said I had graduated.”

“And you haf. From the first lefel of unifersity education. There are many to go, and many subjects you might study. Hmm? Vould you like to continue?”

“Yes, I would,” Keith said at once. “You bet.”

“Gut. Perhaps you vould like to explore the history of the field in vhich you are so interested, eh? Eight to ten pages. In light uf your travel plans, three veeks until it is due.”

Keith’s face fell. “Homework again already?”

Marcy came over to break it up between her father-in-law elect and her friend. “Let him enjoy what he’s earned, please, sir.”

“Uf course, my dear,” the Master said, the suspicion of a smile lifting the corners of his mustache. “I am too eager to teach, it seems.”

“It sounds as though you’ve filled every moment of the coming year, Keith Doyle,” Orchadia said. “Do you never dream of a time of peace and quiet?”

“No time for it,” Keith said. “There’s still so much I want to do. For instance, I’d still like to get all the supernatural beings in the world together for a big party—that is, all the ones who can get to it.” He looked hopefully at the Folk.

“If I ever see any, I’ll tell them you’re looking for them,” Holl said sourly. He and Keith had an ongoing argument about whether the Folk could claim a supernatural origin. Holl felt they were perfectly natural beings; humans were the ones who had lost touch with nature.

“No, it’d be great,” Keith exclaimed, waving his arms with enthusiasm. “The air sprites already showed me they’ve seen all kinds of creatures. If they come, it would be the most amazing party ever. It’d be a chance for everybody to get to know one another, maybe work out differences, settle ancient feuds. I mean, look at all the legends for which there’s still no really good explanation. People still think you’re legendary.…”

“And with good luck they always will,” Enoch said, alarmed.

“… Yeah, but think of all the other beings like you who fall just under the radar. You would have a lot in common with them. Maybe you could work out strategies for dealing with us Big Folk. And maybe they’d figure out that there are some of us who would treat them with respect. Pixies, titans, medusae, mermaids …”

“You have to find these first,” Holl said, his eyebrow raised skeptically.

“I will,” Keith said, full of confidence. “Somehow.”

“Some of these of vhich you speak could not attend because of geography and physiology,” the Master reminded him. “And vhat uf the vuns who are bigger than your kind? Chiants, und others.”

“Well, then the party will have to be held outside,” Keith said, not missing a beat. “I don’t know what sort of things they eat, but I know from all the books they like good liquor and beer. I can bring in some kegs.”