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BACK TO FRASER'S FRACTURED FICTION HENRY VI Part 2, act iv: scene ii (part the sixth)by A. Fraser
© Copyright 2004 A. Fraser. All rights reserved.
"Stall them," Hermione repeated, this time to the entire Brotherhood,
which had hastily reassembled for an emergency meeting. "That's
what the man said."
"But the deadline is already up," Josh pointed out. "I half expected
the sheriff to show up already with eviction notices."
"They won't come until dawn," Ray Griffin said.
"How can you be so sure?" Janine challenged him.
He looked unperturbed. "First of all, because I put an avoidance spell
on the road that will keep everybody off until morning," he replied.
"And second, because it's the sort of stupid dramatic gesture BOO
would make, forcing vampires off their property in daylight."
"I thought we were going to be okay," Estella sighed.
"We would have been, if my cousin wasn't a moron," Janine snorted.
"Just lay off the Alex bashing, would you?" Michael asked. "It's
getting tiresome."
Janine opened her mouth, caught the expression on several faces, and
closed it again. She crossed her arms and glowered, but kept silent.
"So we need more delaying tactics," Hermione said. "I don't think
there's anything much we can do legally without this ending up in
court, where we don't want to be."
"Can you extend your spell?" Maggie asked Ray.
"Not indefinitely," he replied. "Maybe a few more hours, but after
that..." he shrugged.
"We could help," Maggie offered.
"Thanks, but the spell would have to have the endurance of an oak to
keep them off the road."
Michael looked up. "The endurance of an oak."
Gideon smiled, though it was devoid of any real humour. "A Redoak
is willing to do what he can," he said. "Do you want me to stand at
the end of the road with my broadsword, repelling invaders?"
"It's a thought..." Evan began, but Michael raised his hand for
silence.
"The endurance of an oak," he repeated. "Nicholas, Pandora,
Maggie, Ray... come with me. I have an idea. We have to stop up at
my house and get the kids, first."
The four who were summoned followed the Archdruid without
question, leaving some very puzzled people behind.
"What are they going to do?" Hermione asked. "I hope it's nothing
illegal, we're on pretty thin ice here as it is."
"They're all magic users," Evan replied. "It's best not to meddle in
the ways of wizards."
"For you are crunchy, and good with ketchup," Francis finished.
At the entrance to the Cliff Road, which was indeed lacking in any
official presence of the law or BOO, a hidden observer would have
witnessed a strange sight.
Seven people, two of them teenaged children, converged on the
entrance to the road. The Cliff Road had never been paved, so it was
with only minor difficulty that they dug small holes and planted
something, tamping the disturbed earth down lightly with their feet.
Then all seven of them joined hands, apparently without
embarrassment, and four of them chanted in a tongue seldom heard in
Maine. Eerie green light flickered out of each participant, joining
together in a second, crackling circle before burying itself in the
earth.
"Best get well back," cautioned the leader of this strange septet, a
small, thin man with blond hair and green eyes. "We gave it rather a
lot."
They retreated up the road to their various vehicles. There was no
sign of the crackling green light, but where it had earthed itself, there
seemed to be something happening. The ground was churning and
things were shooting up out of it. The blond man nodded in
satisfaction.
"We can leave it to its own devices now," he said. "Let's go home
and get some sleep."
"I think you have three overnight guests, Michael," said a red-haired
woman, in an amused tone. "Nick, Pandora and I will never get past
that to get home."
"Oops."
There was laughter, and Michael put one arm around each twin.
"There you are, your first real work with the Brotherhood. You did
really well, I'm proud of you."
Galen and Vivain both beamed, although they were both obviously
tired by the effort.
"Thanks, Dad," they chorused.
"Dad," Vivain said, looking at the silent man in black walking behind
them, "does this make Ray a Druid, too, now?"
Michael risked a look at the scarred mage, who grinned at him.
"I don't think so," Michael told his daughter. "It just makes him a
member of the Brotherhood."
"We need t-shirts," said Ray.
In Paris, France, some hard questions were being asked at the
wrecked casino. The police had interrogated the entire staff as well
as what patrons they could find, but nobody had known the names of
the peculiar trio of men who had come in to rip up the furniture and
flooring. The security videos were seized and examined.
Incredulous casino security and gendarmes watched, open-mouthed,
as the videos showed... showed... an impossibility. In the videos,
only one man, the young, shaggy-haired one in the leather jacket,
came into the casino, although he appeared to be speaking to thin air
on either side of him. He was the only one who was led to the back
room and shown the contents of the lost and found box, although
once again both he and the casino employee appeared to be
addressing people who were not there. The blackjack table was
shown being ripped out of the floor by... nobody. It seemed to be a
force of nature, as if a small, very localized tornado had hit the
casino. Floor tiles lifted of their own accord, although the shaggy-
haired man aided in this after a minute. Then he seemingly grabbed
onto a completely invisible ... something, and rushed out of the casino
and out of range of the cameras.
No matter how many times the videos were played back, no matter
how many camera angles were toggled, only the one man showed up
on the tapes.
There was total silence for a few minutes. Smoke curled up from
various hastily-lit cigarettes.
Then, quietly, the casino manager said, "The insurance will pay for
the damage."
There were nods.
One of the gendarmes said, "We could circulate the picture of this
young man," but there was no conviction in his voice.
"And say what?" demanded one of his colleagues. "That this man is
known to have companions that are invisible on film?"
"But why are they invisible on film?" someone had the courage to
ask. "It is an impossible thing, no?"
"Some new terrorist trick, no doubt," said a gendarme.
More nods. Terrorists were, of course, capable of anything.
"So we are agreed?" asked the casino manager. "We tell the press
and the public that yes, the casino was attacked, but some clever
terrorist ploy prevented the security cameras from working properly?"
Still more nods.
Mitch, sitting in Jean's rather lushly decorated house in the Faubourg
St. Germain, watched the news all day. His French was iffy at best,
despite the concerted efforts of his employer and Genevieve to teach
him, but he understood enough to know that, miraculously, he and his
small band of blackjack table destroyers were safe. His only worry
was that now Alex was going to make him say that vampires were
way cooler than werewolves.
Morning arrived, in due course, in Fletcherville Maine. A small
convoy of cars, led by the sheriff, headed for the Cliff Road.
Sheriff Gainsborough Fletcher, who had brothers named Raphael and
Rembrandt and a sister named Dali, had been in office for many
years. The Fletcher name, plus the fact that he was good at his job,
ensured his constant reelection. He had always maintained a policy
of leaving the Cliff Road Crowd, as they were known locally, strictly
alone. As long as they didn't break the law, he didn't care what they
did. He knew the rumours in the town; all Fletchervillians did. There
wasn't anything in the books about vampires and magicians, though.
It wasn't actually illegal to be a vampire, and that was good enough
for Gainsborough.
Besides, he kind of liked them. The ones that weren't too weird, at
any rate. Like the Fairlawns, as normal a family as any that shopped
at the Save Rite and drove their kids to soccer games and went to
town hall meetings. Some of the others of the Crowd were a little
strange, maybe, and everyone knew about the living arrangements in
Oakwoods but they paid their taxes and what anyone did in bed was
their own business.
He pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. The little convoy
behind him imitated him. Gainsborough offered a slight curse as he
spotted one beat-up car in the mini parade; he sauntered down the
line to this one.
"Fox, what'n hell are you doing here?" he inquired.
Fox Fletcher, a reporter for the Fletcherville Gazette whose scars
outnumbered even Ray Griffin's, grinned up at his cousin. "Gains,"
he replied, "if this ain't news, I don't know what is."
"Just watch your step, Fox," Gainsborough warned him. He looked at
the other cars. "I don't like these city people," he said. "They're from
away."
"So are the Cliff Roaders, really," Fox pointed out.
"But they're closer to Mainers than this lot," said Gainsborough.
Fox nodded. Made sense, if you were a Mainer. "Uh, Gains," he
said, "you have noticed the entrance to the road, haven't you?"
"Ayup," Gainsborough nodded. "But I'm sure there's a good
explanation. I aim to find out."
He sauntered back up the line of cars the BOO agents were getting
out, and staring at the entrance to the Cliff Road.
At what had been the entrance to the Cliff Road. Perhaps a squirrel
could get through now, but obviously a car could not. Seven tall,
thick oak trees now solidly blocked the road from view. Two men
and a woman lounged in front of the trees, waiting patiently for the
sheriff to come over and speak to them.
Gainsborough obliged. "Mornin', Mr. Fairlawn," he nodded.
"Mornin', Mr. Griffin. Mornin', Mizz...?"
"Russell," Hermione answered. "Hermione Russell. I am the lawyer
for Mr. Goldanias."
"Pleased to meet you," Gainsborough nodded.
"Good morning, Sheriff," Michael replied. Ray nodded.
"I reckon you know why I'm here," the sheriff said. "These folks
claim to truly own the Cliff Road and all the land on the cliff; they
want you folks to clear out."
"Yes, we know," Ray said.
Gainsborough studied the miniature forest with some interest. "Can't
help noticin' that the Cliff Road seems to have broken out in oaks,"
he commented.
"For God's sake, man!" exclaimed Agent Chen, with vexation.
"There's seven damned trees blocking the road! They weren't there
yesterday."
Gainsborough looked at Agent Chen. "Well, sir," he said patiently, "I
can see the trees." He reached out and rapped his fingers against a
trunk. "They're trees, all right. They look about forty years old to
me. Can you explain how they got here overnight?"
Chen opened his mouth. One of the other agents kicked him in the
ankle. "Uh, no," he said lamely.
Gainsborough turned back to the trio representing the Cliff Road
Crowd. "Thing is, Mizz Russell, gents, these four folks have got all
the papers and everything to say that they really do own this land."
"Do they?" Hermione asked, as if this was the first she'd heard of it.
"Then they won't mind if I have a really good look at them?"
This made the BOO agents uneasy. They looked at each other.
"You did do a title search, didn't you sheriff?" Hermione asked.
"That's not up to me, Mizz," Gainsborough replied. "I just carry out
the evictions if the papers are in order. It's them that had to do the
title search."
"But even if the papers are in order, an eviction notice is supposed to
be served much more than forty-eight hours in advance," Hermione
argued.
Gainsborough nodded. "Ayup, you have a point, Mizz Russell." He
looked at the BOO agents. "You did do a title search, didn't you?"
"This is ridiculous!" Agent Higgins exclaimed. "Of course we did.
The land is ours, and we want it. Call in bulldozers and clear out
these trees!"
"You have to have a permit to cut down trees in Maine,"
Gainsborough said. "That will take time to get."
"The trees are on private property!" Agent Orlova pointed out.
"Even so, you got to have a permit." Gainsborough nodded to the
widely grinning Fox Fletcher. "Looks like no story today, Fox."
"Oh, I think I have a story, cousin," Fox replied. He exchanged a
high-five with Ray Griffin. "Nice work with the trees," he whispered.
"It was Michael's idea," Ray confided. "I just provided some extra
grow power."
Gainsborough chivied the BOO agents and the reporters back into
their vehicles, and the convey headed back into town, to seek and
obtain tree-cutting permits.
"The trees won't hold them off forever," Michael said, looking
worriedly after the line of cars driving off.
"Hopefully Alex will come back soon, with the proper deed,"
Hermione sighed. "Still, yes, nice work with the trees."
Michael smiled and took an acorn from his pocket. "Amazing what
you can do with a nut," he replied.
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