Seanan McGuire - An Artificial Night

“How do I stop the car?” May demanded.

“Start slowing down!” The hill was tapering off, and we’d stopped gaining speed; there was a chance that we’d be able to decelerate enough to keep from becoming a thin metal sheet at the bottom of the hill. Not a good chance, but a chance.

“How do I slow down?”

“The brakes, hit the brakes!” snapped Connor.

“The what?”

Oh, that was not what I wanted to hear. “Take your foot off the gas!”

“Oh!” May nodded and eased off the gas, looking relieved. The car slowed, until we were moving at a speed that had at least a passing resemblance to the legal limit.

“Good,” I said. “Now try the other pedal.”

Connor held his breath as May fumbled for the brakes, found them, and brought the car to a stop in the middle of the street. She slumped forward, resting her forehead against the wheel, and I leaned over Connor to set the parking brake before we could start rolling again. The kids in the back cheered. Connor shuddered and started breathing.

I eyed him. “Wimp.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “Are we dead yet?”

“No. The brakes worked.”

“I’m gonna be sick,” said the voice from the back.

“Me too,” said Connor.

“I don’t ever want to drive again,” moaned May.

“Deal,” I said, before adding, “You realize you just saved my life, right?”

“What?” She sat up, staring at me.

“We’d have died if you hadn’t taken the wheel.” I grinned at her. “Good job.”

“I can’t save your life! I’m your Fetch!”

“Yeah, I know. Get in the back.” I nudged Connor with my elbow. “It’s your turn to drive.”

He gave me a sharp look. “You’re kidding.”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” I shrugged. “I’m still too short to drive. Our other option is May. Do you really want to do that again?”

He looked from my Fetch to me and back, frown deepening in a scowl. Finally, he took off his seat belt, saying, “May, move.”

Flashing a grin, May scrambled into the backseat, settling next to Jessica and Spike.

Connor slid into the driver’s seat and fastened his seat belt, saying conversationally, “You realize I hate you.”

“I know,” I said, and smiled. “I’m okay with that.”

“I didn’t really save your life,” said May.

“I’m okay with that, too,” I said. “Come on. Let’s get these kids home.”

Connor sighed and restarted the car. It wasn’t riding very smoothly anymore, and I was fairly sure the shocks were shot. Oh, well. There’s nothing like a good car chase to start the morning off right. I gave him the directions to Mitch and Stacy’s and fell silent, enjoying the quiet. The kids were exhausted, and Connor and May were too busy hating me to talk. It was nice to have the break.

May was right. She didn’t save my life, because she couldn’t save my life; she wasn’t the one who was going to take it. A Fetch is an omen of death, not the cause.

Whatever killed me wouldn’t be something we could prevent with a little trick driving. I’d finally met an enemy that was bigger than I was. Blind Michael wanted me dead: that’s why May was there, and the Riders proved it. We’d gotten away, but whatever he sent after me next would be bigger, meaner, faster, and probably a lot smarter. If I was lucky, I’d be able to get the kids out of the range of fire before it was too late. It was already too late for me.

CONNOR FOUGHT THE CAR TO A STOP as we pulled up in front of Mitch and Stacy’s house; the brakes hadn’t been working well since our little joyride down the hill. Funny thing, that. Frankly, I was amazed we weren’t trying to stop the car by digging our heels into the concrete, Flintstones style.

When we finally stopped moving Connor staggered out of the car, moving to rest his forehead against the nearest tree. “I’m going to die,” he moaned.

“No, you’re not,” said May, climbing into the front seat and then out the driver’s side door. “Trust me, I’d know. It’s a professional thing.”

I unfastened my seat belt, eyeing them. “Guys? Disguises?” The Luidaeg’s spell hid us from prying eyes, but I wasn’t sure it extended past the boundaries of the car.

“Oh, right.” May snapped her fingers and was instantly disguised. She still looked like me, but now she was me-as-human. I’d never seen my human self from the outside before, and somehow, it was more unnerving than looking at my real face. Illusions are personal things, and we don’t usually steal them from one another.

Connor groaned and waved a hand, not lifting his head. The air around him shimmered, dissolving the webs between his fingers and roughening the texture of his hair. “Happy now?”

“Yes,” I said, leaning over the seat to stroke Jessica’s hair away from her forehead. “Come on, puss. Time to go.”

Jessica looked at me, then out the window. “That’s my house.”

“Yes, it is.” Andrew had dozed off, curled up with Spike in what would have been a sickeningly cute pose if Spike had been less, well, spiky. “Come on, Andy, wake up,” I said, shaking him. Spike opened neon yellow eyes and chirped. “Yeah, I know, I’m bothering you. Now get up.”

“Andy doesn’t like to wake up,” Jessica said.

“I’m noticing that. Can you make him move?”

“Okay.” She reached over and yanked Andrew into a sitting position, bracing her knee in the small of his back. He made a mumbling noise and tried to lie back down. “No, Andy. Get up.” He protested again, but stopped trying to fight her. Fascinating. People are strange. Jessica was useless for most of the ordeal but as soon as she had to deal with her little brother she was nothing but efficient. I’d have to remember that, just in case another crazed wanna-be god ever kidnapped us.

Raj leaned against the back of the seat, watching Jessica manhandle her baby brother out of the car. “Will you take us home next?” he asked.

“Yeah, we will,” I said.

“My parents will be pleased.”

“I’m sure they will.” I raked my hands through my hair, and paused, realizing that my own disguise wasn’t in place. I was pretty sure nobody had seen us yet; the fact that Mitch and Stacy hadn’t come charging out of the house told me that much. So now I had a new, simpler problem: how was I supposed to make sure they didn’t see me at all?

Stacy could probably have dealt with my sudden second childhood, as long as I brought her kids home—she can be pragmatic about the strangest things—but I didn’t think she’d be able to cope with May. Like Connor, she knows that I don’t have any sisters; unlike Connor, she couldn’t necessarily handle the news of my impending death.

And then there was Karen. I’d seen her ghost. I still didn’t know how she had … how she … no. No more trauma, not yet. I’m a child of Faerie. When all else fails, we lie. Maybe it’s not an honorable philosophy, but I’ve always been willing to bend honor in favor of common sense, and common sense told me that introducing Stacy to my Fetch when her life had already been turned upside down wouldn’t be a good idea.

“I’m staying in the car,” I announced. I looked out the open driver’s-side door, asking May, “You understand why, don’t you?”

“I think so,” she said, and frowned. “I shouldn’t do this.”

“I know.”

“It’s not fair. Don’t you think Stacy would want to know?”

“That I’m going to die? How is that going to help, May? She can’t change it.” I shook my head. “You have my memories. That means you love her, too.”

“I do, and you have a point, but …” She sighed. “I’m almost sure this is breaking the rules. I shouldn’t be helping you.”