Nevernever Read online

  “Hmm.”

  I turned my finger in a circle in front of her, our old signal to keep talking.

  “Well, that was the effect. I had nothing to compare it with. It felt like I’d gone into the future, ‘cause you were all just memories, or maybe you were imaginary friends who’d gone away. It’s hard to remember how I thought about it, ‘cause after a while, I forgot most of what’d happened. Maybe that was part of Milo’s spell. Maybe it was the only way to cope with something that didn’t make sense.”

  I finger-spelled in front of her, W-H-A-T H-A-P-P-E-N-E-D-? and pointed at her to add, to you?

  “Oh, I was lucky, if you think about what might’ve happened. I climbed Dragon’s Tooth, looking for Leander and Wiseguy. Instead, I found someone who took me to someone else who took me someplace where they gave me food and a bed. And after a little while, a childless elven couple adopted me. Maybe that wasn’t all luck—I was clearly of the True Blood of Faerie, not some halfie or human.”

  We rode on, and Loses appeared on the horizon. Leda said quietly, “Don’t assume the new folks were elf bigots. Now I think they were good people. They tried to be, anyway.” She laughed. “Good people and elf bigots. That’s why they were so damn hard to live with. Where to?”

  I pointed, and guided her into Loses as she told the rest of the story.

  “I told the new parents my name was Flor’da, which they contracted pretty quickly to Lorda, then Lada, and finally Leda. Which was more comprehensible than the other choices. When they adopted me, they gave me my elven name. The Scent of Heather, yaddada yaddada.”

  I wrote, ONE WAY WE POSSESS PEOPLE AND THINGS IS BY NAMING THEM.

  She nodded. “Maybe. You also give names to show you’ve accepted someone as part of your group. I dunno. No easy answers, Wolf.” We left the broken freeway and cruised into one of the better-preserved business districts of Loses.

  She said, “Except for hating my life, it wasn’t bad. When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I ran away to Soho and called myself Leda, since that was what the folks said I’d called myself when I was little. I found friends there—Wiseguy and Sai—and we decided to make a safe place where elves, humans, and halfies could live in peace.”

  I pointed at a bookstore, and she pulled over. “Trading stock?”

  I nodded and signed, Since we’re here.

  We went inside. The bookstore’s roof had held up and the scavengers who’d been through Loses hadn’t been interested in books or magazines. I told myself that on the next trip, Mickey and Goldy and I would borrow a horse and wagon and empty this place.

  I signed, You talk while I look for goodies.

  She nodded, dusted off a glass countertop, and sat cross-legged on it. “We found this empty building that seemed perfect for what we wanted. When Wiseguy called it Castle Pup after our group, the Strange Pupae, I giggled and couldn’t stop. Scared Wiseguy and Sai bad. But it was like, di-da-di-da, Twilight Zone Déjà Vu Review time. When I finally stopped giggling and we went upstairs, I remembered the place had scared me when I was little, but I couldn’t remember why.” She pointed. “Hey, that’s Treasure Island; you got to take that. And the Jules Verne next to it.”

  I sighed and added them to the pile.

  “So Castle Pup was a major hit. We found heaps of people who shared the dream. I felt I’d known most of ‘em all in a previous life, and that was nice. It should’ve been perfect, but it wasn’t. I was constantly aware that it wasn’t what it could’ve been, if that makes sense. And when a kid called Florida started sleeping in the backyard—” She shrugged. “I’d already started drinking peca. I just found a lot more excuses to drink it. The appeal of drugs is you don’t mind not understanding what’s happening around you, I guess. In some ways, I was relieved when Castle Pup finally went ka-pow.”

  She didn’t need to tell the rest. She’d told it in the glade while Eilva’ar’s people watched. She shook her head. “A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying—” She shrugged.

  I pointed at the title of an ancient magazine in the display case under her: LIFE.

  In the back room of a motorcycle shop, we found wheels that fit the Triumph. The ride to Bordertown was a little bit bumpier and a whole lot safer.

  •

  I could tell you many good things about that trip, but I’ll leave it at this: At one point, Leda whispered, “Look,” and pointed at the sky. From horizon to horizon, passenger pigeons flew toward the World.

  Eilva’ar’s people seemed content to let our escape be the end of their Game. When I remember that last minute as we raced away from their camp, I sometimes wonder if the sounds we heard were cries of joy, rather than rage. Maybe their Game encompasses more things than I can know. If they meant for it to end as it did, I’m grateful. But I’m not going back to ask.

  In Bordertown, we rode directly to Milo Chevrolet’s lot. The NO that had been painted above the crossed-out ALL of ALL OFFERS CONSIDERED had been crossed out in turn. Someone had written beside it, OK—ALL. The bikes were gone, and I didn’t remember a Cord in his automobile collection.

  I knocked. When Milo answered, I pointed at the signs in his windows: MILO CHEVROLET, CONSULTING MAGICIAN and WE MAKE HOUSE CALLS.

  He shrugged. “Life goes on.” Then he smiled. “Never surrender, eh?”

  I nodded and handed him a note. Leda began to laugh as he read, I’D LIKE TO INTRODUCE YOU TO SOMEONE.

  Someone said you write a book by starting at the beginning and ending at the end. Since this is my book, I say, Screw that, Matt.

  The end of the story is okay: Strider, Sai, and Leda go through the gate, returning to Faerie, where they’ll try to change the Elflands, and those of us left on this side may never know if they succeed—my guess, for what it’s worth, is they do. The departure wasn’t sad. Okay, it was sad, but it wasn’t only sad. I’m not sure who did the largest, No, you have BIG fun! Call it a tie.

  I’d rather end this at the party at my place.

  Milo showed up first, to help me unlock the doors on the ground floor so Mickey could get in. She played the host, which pretty much consisted of yelling at everyone to quit banging on the door and use the rope ladder.

  Goldy made pancakes, which didn’t mean anything to me until he set a plateful and a glass of chocolate milk in front of Leda. She didn’t touch either immediately. Then she said, “You old goldhead,” and began to cut the pancakes into cubes.

  I let Leda’s adoptive parents use the front door. They were a very nice businesswoman who sold jewels into or maybe out of the Elflands and a quiet gardener or maybe a landscaper who told some funny jokes about bankers and politicians. They stayed through dinner, and smiled a lot, then left early. Leda kissed them and promised she’d see them again before she left.

  After dinner, Ms. Wu and Milo sat in the library, deep in conversation, so I went in to see if it was anything a non-magician could follow. They both looked up, and Milo said, “Hey, Wolf. Ms. Wu thinks it’ll be hard to restore Leda’s magic. I say if woodland posers can do it, it’ll be a snap for the two of us.”

  Ms. Wu laughed. “I did not say it would be difficult. But—” She shrugged. “Well, this isn’t a place where an abundance of confidence will hurt.”

  Milo glanced at me, then at Ms. Wu. “You want to tell him?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I suppose I shall have to, now.”

  “I can, if you want. But you’ve known him longer—”

  I held both hands in front of me in supplication: Enough, already! Please, somebody tell me.

  Ms. Wu nodded. “If you wish, we can make you human again.”

  I felt my smile disappear.

  “Should’ve been obvious,” Milo said. “No. It was obvious. We simply didn’t see it.”

  “You didn’t?” Ms. Wu asked.

  Milo frowned. “All right, all right. I didn’t see it. But you couldn’t do anything about it.”

  “True.” She looked at me. “I say ‘if you wish’ because
that’s literally true. The curse resists lifting because, in your heart, you like being Wolfboy.”

  “See?” Milo said, “So if you’ll just stand over there, we’ll—”

  Ms. Wu spoke for Milo’s sake as I touched a finger to my lips and signed, Shh. Someone might hear.

  The opening notes of Wild Hunt’s last album stopped our conversation. We all looked up then, and glanced at each other.

  After a moment, we each nodded or shrugged, and whoever had started the song did not stop it. Goldy and Mickey began to dance, their heads together, his hands on her hips. Strider took Sai’s hand and said, “Care to learn a step that’s done in Faerie?” and she said, “Why? They’ll all be swiping our moves.” Jeff and King O’Beer began a circle dance with Taz and Caramel. Tick-Tick grabbed Milo’s hand, and Orient grabbed Ms. Wu’s. Leda saw me look at her, or I saw her look at me, and I took her in my arms and didn’t trip either of us. She said, “I’ll miss you, Wolf,” and I nodded once and spun her.

  When the next song, a louder and faster number, began, Sparks tapped Leda’s shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?”

  Leda looked at me and at her, and smiled. I had told her a good deal on our drive from Loses to Bordertown. She gave me a quick kiss on my nose and walked away.

  Sparks glanced at the floor, then at me. She wore a forest green dress that may have been made in the 1930s. A table lamp behind her brought out a red sheen in her dark brown hair and made her parrot earring sparkle. She smelled of peppermint. When she held out her arms, we both smiled.

  The song enclosed us, so even when she spoke loudly, she spoke privately. She said, “I left Milo.”

  I nodded.

  “He told you?”

  I nodded again.

  She glanced at Leda and Strider, who laughed with Sai as they tried to fit the steps of one world to the music of another.

  Sparks smiled at me. “They move well together.”

  I wanted to say, “We all do.” It was better to dance.

  About the Author

  Will Shetterly has worked in tourist traps in Florida and trading posts in northern Ontario, as well as appearing as an evil government agent in a movie about murderous mutant hippies that is so bad it has been released under at least three names. He is married to Emma Bull, whose books include Finder, a Bordertown novel that tells more about some of the characters in this book.

  Other books by Will Shetterly

  Dogland

  "A masterwork. A particularly American magic realism that touches the heart of race and childhood in our country; it's 100 Years of Solitude for an entire generation of American Baby Boomers, and deserves the widest possible audience." —Ellen Kushner, host of National Public Radio's Sound & Spirit

  "A deceptively simple story, rich with complex characters and timeless themes, this novel will charm enthusiasts of contemporary fantasy." —Publishers Weekly

  "Compelling, absorbing, hard-edged work, lit by glimpses of another, more fantastic reality ... child-centered but tackling adult themes fearlessly and with great charm." —Kirkus Reviews

  Chimera

  "The ingredients--wisecracking gumshoe, gorgeous slinky heroine, blood-tingling action, ingenious plot twists--might be familiar, but Shetterly's thoughtful, hard-edged remix is a winner." —Kirkus Reviews

  "Vivid characters and a tense, sexy story line enliven the excellent cyberthriller's themes of choice, freedom, and responsibility." — Booklist

  The Gospel of the Knife

  “Shetterly's sequel to Dogland (1997) finds Christopher Nix, a troubled adolescent, struggling through the cultural turmoil of 1969 Florida. ...his life changes radically when a rich stranger offers to fund his education at a fancy prep school. Chris soon learns the reason for the generosity, and the small miracles that appear to follow him wherever he goes...” —Publishers Weekly

  “The second-person, present-tense narration, off-putting at first, quickly becomes transparent, and Shetterly's blending of Vietnam-era realism and religious mysticism makes compelling reading. ... Patient readers will find much to ponder, though, as Chris struggles to do what is right.”

  Elsewhere

  "...a gritty, vivid portrait of a half-familiar world...Elsewhere works almost perfectly." —Newsday

  "Shetterly has just enough distance from his hero to shape [his] troubled journey with skill and conviction, too little distance to patronize." —The Village Voice Literary Supplement

  "Elsewhere breaks ground that other writers will certainly try to cultivate." —Minneapolis Star Tribune

  "...sometimes violent and profane, yet beautifully written ... Not for the weak of heart, but a book for the adventurous soul." —The New Advocate

  Cats Have No Lord

  “ The first-rate world building, the unique cast of characters, and the author’s clever whimsey make it absorbing entertainment. Recommended.” — Booklist

  Captain Confederacy

  "...plots are intricate and creative.... This is not a comic book for children." —Southern Magazine

  "...excellent alternate-Earth science fiction." —Comics Buyer's Guide

  "...Written with intelligence and no fear of controversy. Buy it!" —Graffiti

  "From the retooled Stars and Bars of Captain Confederacy's costume to the mapping of urban and rural southern places, the series takes up the symbols of the South and imaginitively reconstructs them, shaking loose the stock figures, geographies, and temporalities of southerness. If Octavia Butler and Kara Walker alter the meaning of the southern lady, Shetterly reconfigures the southern gentleman, unfixing his location in an idealized Civil War past, instead deploying him for a different understanding of our present." —Reconstructing Dixie: Race, Gender, and Nostalgia in the Imagined South, by Tara McPherson (Duke University)