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Street Fair (Fair Folk Chronicles Book 2) Page 11


  The band finished the first song, letting the last notes of Nell's voice intertwine with the fading echo of the saxophone. The drums paused, and, with the beat, the violinists froze again. The crowd stilled once more, with Megan glad for the brief respite from the crush of bodies.

  Seeing the smaller girls hemmed in, Justin extended his arms, taking firm hold of the barricade to Megan's right and Lani's left, and dug himself in to protect them more. The barricade guard at first moved towards him, then saw the intent, and just nodded, stepping back into position.

  Megan spared a glance for her mother, to make sure she was taking it all well. Sheila O'Reilly was looking almost mesmerized, eyes locked on the stage, but otherwise seemed just fine.

  After the few seconds of rest, the violins took the place of guitars, and Nell joined them in launching into Neil Young's “Cinnamon Girl.” Megan had heard the song a number of times before, but never with quite so much frantic intensity. The classic song got more of the aging Seattle hippies and new agers into the set, while the band's punk rock take ignited those who'd already been dancing hard to the first song in the list.

  They followed up by slowing down the pace, but upping the power, Nell's voice blasting out dark lyrics that blended failed relationships, pessimism, and poetry to a background of bass and drums and accompaniment of a crying saxophone. Megan didn't know the song, but recognized some of the lyrics as being borrowed from old poems she'd covered in English class, blended with punk rock lyricism. The end effect was sort of like beat poetry on steroids. It wasn't as danceable as the first songs, but had just as much power—and as much effect on the crowd.

  Nell finally trailed off, and the rest of the band followed, one instrument after another. Far more cheerfully than the song would suggest, Nell followed by talking to the crowd.

  "And that was 'Never Read Robert Frost After You've Just Stabbed Someone's Black Heart.' In the spirit of not ending on an anti-climax, we've got an impulse for something special. It has come to our attention that a legend is present tonight. Could Ms. Sheila O'Reilly please consider coming to join us?"

  There was a buzz through the crowd, with some excited voices, while others tried to figure out who that was without saying anything, lest other, more knowledgeable music fans find out they had no idea who Sheila O'Reilly was or why the band called her a legend.

  Sheila was frozen with indecision, mouth open, like she was about to say something, but no sound was coming out. Finally, Megan's mother, dressed in her most casual clothes, which a lot of people could still have gotten away with wearing to the office, looked at her daughter, to find her bouncing and cheering.

  "Go, go!" Megan shouted, waving towards the stage.

  As soon as Sheila made the motion to start climbing the barricade, Cassia pointed her out to security, who let her pass, and escorted her onto the stage.

  Erin, all smiles, gave up her bass in return for a chance to hug Sheila O'Reilly, to huge cheers, and then stepped back to take a mic as a backup singer, while Sheila tested out the unfamiliar instrument. The band had apparently adapted the Late for the Party song Megan had asked for the day before, or—given Cassia, Violet, and Erin's appreciation for Sheila's basswork—it was possible they'd already done so. Regardless, “Yet Another Song About Jumping” was well suited to Sax & Violins. Despite their punk roots, they dove right in to the high energy, poppy, danceable song, giving it their own spin, with the violinists putting on their own rapid, leaping dance on stage, playing all the while. Nell took the lead, belting out the lyrics, letting Sheila focus on her basswork first and foremost.

  "Well you're the hottest person / I could ever hope to meet.

  But if we tried to tango, / I'd be stepping on your feet."

  Megan watched her mother as the song progressed. Sheila stared at her hands a little at first, then looked up to take in the rest of the stage as her hands continued the infectiously bouncy foundation of the lightly satirical music.

  "So let's be life-affirming/ —or is that too big a word?

  Let's see how popular it/ gets to 'not follow the herd.'"

  By the time they got to the chorus, Sheila had gotten used to the familiar old bassline, and was more than ready to join Erin in adding backing vocals and urging the crowd to dance, and those who remembered the 15-year-old song to sing along the first time through.

  "Now I want you to dance, / Now I want you to sing."

  "You can get the lyrics wrong / They don't mean a thing."

  By the time they hit the third and final chorus, everyone in the audience was chanting along.

  Sheila played two more songs with the band, a Breeders cover and one more Late for the Party song. Then she made her way back to the girls and to a huge hug from Megan. Sheila O'Reilly looked exhausted, with hair mussed enough to show up Megan's unruly red locks, her blouse was untucked, she was sweating and out of breath—but outside of some of Megan's baby pictures, she didn't think she'd ever seen her mother smile like that.

  When the set was finished, Megan, Justin, Lani, and Sheila were allowed backstage. Erin almost immediately set on Sheila to get some pointers and a new autograph, while the teens stepped aside with Cassia.

  "Cass, that was amazing!" Megan immediately said.

  “Oh, that was just the warm-up,” she said with a big, toothy, Cassia grin. “Now it's time for the real show.”

  Chapter 21: Best Seats in the House

  “Just another hour?” her mother asked again.

  “Just another hour,” Megan assured.

  Sheila O'Reilly looked at Cassia. “No alcohol or other drugs, and no … well, no more naked people than Fremont-standard?”

  “Not for this next hour,” Cassia assured.

  “Okay, that's relatively believable … have we ever actually met, Cassia?”

  “I couldn't say,” the satyress who'd been in the Seattle music scene for decades replied with a shrug.

  Sheila looked back to Megan. “Lani'll bring you home?”

  “Yep.” Megan wasn't sure if she'd felt this nervous between wight expeditions.

  Finally, her mother smiled. “Okay. Always good to properly celebrate a record-setting GPA. I'm going to go home and collapse, but I'm going to leave the alarm clock in the hallway set for an hour, okay?”

  “Okay. Thanks, Mom!”

  The small group set to helping the band, Finn, and the rest of the stage crew in carrying the band's things, before the troll turned his attention to distributing new passes. "Yer all set, have fun!" he called, returning to playing very imposing bouncer at the door while everyone disappeared back into Faerie, and the Goblin Market, one by one.

  As much as she was tempted to go through and watch a couple of the performers, or walk down the long stretch of artists one more time, Megan let Lani lead her directly towards the stage. Her father sat on a raised dais in an ornate chair, with the Count on one arm and Ashling on the other exchanging eye-rolls with some of the attending sprites.

  The Seelie Queen, with all her alien regality, had her own ornate chair not far away. It took Megan a moment to realize what was out of place there: General Inwar, usually a fixture at Orlaith's side every time she'd seen the Queen, was missing.

  Megan settled in next to her father, sitting on the railing of the dais for the time being, to get off her feet. Lani joined her, but Justin, now in full knightly duty mode, stood sentry behind them. The band set up on the ornate stage, which was simultaneously a lot bigger and fancier than the one they had in Fremont, and, to Megan's eyes, so classical in design that it seemed a very odd place for a punk rock band to be setting up. On the other hand, she had to suppose that that was part of the entertainment value to the band themselves.

  Megan managed to say a few words to her father, but nothing of consequence, as he was still being regularly distracted by messages from various sprites, and other members of his court. Just as that seemed to be settling down, Inwar entered, moving quickly, flanked by two knights. The General reached the Queen's
side, leaned in to whisper something to her—whatever it was was met with a grave nod, but no words from Orlaith—then Inwar took his usual place to the right of her chair. All the while, stage hands of various species dragged what appeared to be white, grey, and black stone debris out onto the stage. Megan wasn't sure precisely why, but assumed that either the band had a use for it, or that it was some faerie thing she wouldn't understand.

  The music started much as it had before, with the dueling violins. Now, however, they had even more space to use in their dance/duel, and all of the debris, bits of stone steps, collapsed slabs, broken columns, and the rest let them climb, leap, and even hide from one another before making dramatic leaps, in their athletic duel around the stage.

  Nell came in right after the violins. Megan wasn't entirely sure if it was the acoustics of the place, or entirely her voice being really let loose, or some combination, but the woman went from just having a startling range to downright unearthly, as she sang the lyrics to a song Megan had heard from her internet research, but never quite like this, as Nell belted out the lyrics to “Elephants All the Way Down.”

  Once they were applauding, Megan muttered to her father. “They say she doesn't like to get involved with people like us—or herself—that much.” She didn't ask the question.

  Riocard smiled. “Well, when the family business involves drowning sailors or crushing them against rocks... some people like the refreshing quality of a quiet life by different waters.”

  “Oh. Yeah. I'd guess so.”

  As popular as the opening number was, the court—and probably the rest of the market, though Megan's view was limited—really erupted into frenzied dancing and singing when the second song of the set began. Cassia wailed away on the saxophone, and the violins alternated between light, airy major keys and simple notes, all to a steady beat, as Nell sang the start of each verse, sing-songing the words to nursery rhymes. Then each one took a dark turn, with minor keys, erratic beats, and twisted subtexts. A few of the lyrics to “Four and Twenty Blackbirds” left Megan feeling a little bit twitchy, especially recalling old memories of her mother singing them to her long ago, but throughout the song, of those on the dais, Ashling and—particularly—the Count were dancing and bouncing as if it was the greatest song ever.

  Then it all stopped, the lights to the stage abruptly shut off, with just one violin—probably Violet's, Megan figured—playing the strains of the simple sixpence-melody until it faded completely. Applause and cheers filled the vacuum of silence for a few moments, but the silence outlived it, the stage still shrouded in darkness.

  Then the steady pulse of the bass started. Then Nell began to sing quietly, so very quietly, as one stage light was allowed to blink along.

  These past two years (and one was leap), / I've found it hard to get to sleep. / Fluorescent lights pulse, / Match the beat of our skulls / and make sterile shadows look steep.

  Another Late to the Party cover. Nell was, it was soon revealed, singing with herself, but “Psych Ward Composition” had originally been a duet between Megan's parents. It was a high-energy creepy descent into madness, but it had been recorded in the days when they were posing for smiling pictures with newborn Megan. It was strange to be hearing Cassia's girlfriend take her violin into the erratic notes while Megan sat beside her father.

  The band took a break between the third and fourth songs, with Nell talking to the crowd. After the numerous twists and turns of the songs, the visual display, and the memories involved, Megan found herself just staring.

  "Silver dollar for your thoughts?" her father asked. At her expression, he laughed in that dark-chocolate way she'd come to expect. He handed her an actual coin, dated 1904. "I don't carry pennies, after all."

  Megan nodded toward the stage. "Cassia brought her here. She tells her about places like this—and about being a satyr."

  "Yes. She does. And one day, it will be over—perhaps next month, perhaps in twenty-five years, when Miss Baptiste's hands can no longer hold a bow. Either way, it's going to be difficult for Miss Baptiste to come away from it all, knowing what she knows, and the former is far more likely than the latter."

  "Mr. and Mrs. K have been together for nineteen years."

  "The kahuna is very clever. He is also very lucky."

  "...The what? I thought he was a menehune."

  "He is. Kahuna is a job description, as a master of traditional craftsmanship."

  "Okay. So he's smart. So're...a lot of people." Megan barely managed not to say 'you.'

  Riocard nodded. "But not everyone is smart in the same ways. The kahuna... understands a great deal about building things to last. And he pours a great deal of himself into maintaining what he's built. And when it ends, well, the kahuna will have a very hard time coming away from it, knowing what he knows."

  Megan paused, thinking about that. She'd seen Mr. Kahale with his family. Then she considered just how long her father had lived, or even Cassia, and maybe Ashling, depending on which Ashling story was to be believed. She didn't miss the connection to the talk of Cassia's girlfriend, either. Apparently, too much contact between mortals and the faeries wasn't only potentially hard on the mortals. She didn't like the implications, but thought, perhaps, she understood her father a little better.

  She was still pondering that one as Cassia stepped up to a mic to alternate playing the sax and providing added vocals on the next song. This one didn't involve so much athleticism, and wasn't as danceable, but was just as distracting as Megan tried to follow the lyrics. She'd heard this one as well, plainly and accurately titled “The One With the Complicated Rhyme Scheme.” The live performance did better highlight the weird chord progressions, echoing vocals, and backing vocals that actively contrasted the lead singer's lyrics. Through it all, the clever wordplay explored the conventions of poetry like particularly sadistic English professors.

  Megan looked to Justin. She certainly hadn't asked him to be her date, and he certainly wasn't acting like one, standing like that when there was already plenty of other security around. Of course, all things considered, she couldn't blame him for wanting to be professional. Court stuff was tricky enough without at-large collectors of butterflies and the undead.

  The band immediately followed up with Beethoven's Third, with more saxophone, and occasional interruptions for some reason Megan didn't understand, with Nell complaining about Napoleon in at least three languages. Once she thought about it, what did make complete sense to Megan, though, was the crowd rocking out to Beethoven as readily as they had to contemporary punk.

  Naturally, the band immediately followed Beethoven with a cover of “Radioactive.” After the two song break, she supposed for the good of the violinists, the two were right back in fine form, fencing and stalking one another about the stage while they played.

  When the song ended, the band took another short break, with Nell talking to the audience and the band collecting some water, the drummer, Erin, and Cassia drinking, both violinists going directly to just pouring it over themselves as soon as the instruments were securely put aside.

  Meanwhile, on the dais, another messenger arrived. This sprite, moth wings flapping frantically, careened towards General Inwar, almost crashing to a stop. Ashling and the sprite exchanged a glare, while Megan got a better look at the messenger, dressed in an odd hodgepodge of tiny furs and scraps of denim. She knew this one: Gilroy was one of Peadar's gang. Gilroy and Ashling had, for lack of a better term, bad blood. He perhaps meant to whisper the message, but in his state, Megan, and others nearby, couldn't help but overhear.

  "There's a crack in the ice."

  That was when the trouble started.

  Chapter 22: The Crowd Goes Wild

  The first reactions were from the others on the dais. The Queen's guards, both those already on watch, and those who'd come in flanking Inwar, moved immediately to guard positions. Riocard's men, more than Megan had realized had been hanging about, drew their weapons. Justin looked as if he might follow
suit, but instead simply shifted position, hand on the hilt of the sword.

  Word rippled rapidly down through the crowd, and the muttering grew to shouting—and shoving, and growling. Some people pressed towards the stage to make demands, but the guardsman were already in position to still any nascent rioting.

  Megan looked to the stage, where Cassia appeared ready to play one-girl army if anyone from the agitated crowd tried to climb up.

  “Good night, Everybody!” Nell announced as she quickly ushered the band off the stage with most of their equipment.

  Even the queen looked startled, her dawn-colored eyes widening and her inhumanly delicate long fingers gripping the arms of her chair tightly as she looked towards Inwar.

  Indeed, there were only two signs of absolute calm amidst the chaos. General Inwar was one of them, directing the guards, calling out commands in a voice that rang over the noise, rallying Sidhe knights and others to form up near the dais at his call for order. Once the first lines were formed, others under his command started to seed themselves throughout the room, to be in position for whatever might come.

  The other was Riocard, who lounged in his chair, regarding the riot like it might be a planned part of the entertainment. He called for no one and directed nothing, only bothering to briefly make sure that his daughter stayed properly within the secured area for now.

  Despite the chaos that had begun, those Unseelie nearest Riocard looked to him, initially unsure, and many calmed, making their way in the crowd. A few knotted together into gangs, while others sauntered towards the doors in an I-do-as-I-will fashion. Others among the Unseelie, of course, continued to push and shove, or make demands, as did a smaller, but still notable portion of the Seelie, ignoring calls for order. Being faeries, Megan noted, some few of the audience who had been mostly in order only started shoving and shouting when doing so specifically defied attempts to restore order as well, but, for the moment, that was a minority.