Chapter 27

  I shared a look with D.T., who shrugged a little when I nodded, so the two of us launched into a retelling of our adventure out at George Roberts' farm. Jessie took it all in, nodding here and there, asking the occasional question about the spirit of the land that had asked for our help, about the ratlings, about their den…she was clearly very good at gathering information.

  As we wound down, and I listened to D.T. express her discomfort over what we'd done again, I found I understood it better this time. I also understood my own reaction to the situation better this time. It wasn't that I was lacking in empathy…at least, I didn't think that I was…but it was easy for me to see the ratlings as monsters. And D.T. was right…it was at least partly because they weren't rational beings.

  Finally, Jessie popped a stray slice of strawberry that had escaped one of the scones into her mouth, chewed slowly, and nodded. When she swallowed, she said, "Yeah, I've seen those little fuckers before. Ain't got no name I know of, but 'ratling' describes 'em good and proper."

  She looked at D.T. then. "Ain't never met a cop quite like you," she said softly. "Granted, I only know American police and Feds, but like you implied, most of 'em seem to wanna go straight from idle to violence with no middle gears. Hard to blame 'em, when a lot of the criminals they're dealin' with do the same. Think I might like workin' with the British police."

  Jessie leaned forward and folded her arms on the table. "But you remember this, both of ya: Sometimes, a thing just needs killin'. Wrestle with the Otherworld long enough - don't take long at all, really - and you'll find yourself dealin' with things that look human, but absolutely ain't. Not to mention all the things that are as smart as - or smarter than - the average human, but definitely ain't human. A lotta beings in the Otherworld - especially in places like Faerie, that're warped reflections of the 'real' world - don't think the way you and I do. Don't see the world the way we do. And definitely don't see humans as anythin' other than prey, in one way or another."

  "Blue and orange morality," I said, feeling like a light bulb had just popped into existence above my head as the thought clicked into place.

  D.T. and Jessie both looked at me and said "What?" together.

  I felt myself blush a little. "Sorry. It's a literary trope. Blue and Orange Morality. It defines a way of looking at the world, usually ascribed to non-human or extremely aberrant human characters, who don't see things in terms of good versus evil, or order versus chaos. Their way of looking at the world is so alien to the human mind that they're functioning on an axis of morality that we don't - or can't - understand. It's similar to the Values Dissonance trope, except that values dissonance can usually be overcome through learning to comprehend…"

  I trailed off, seeing the amused but agreeing look on Jessie's face, and the affectionate look on D.T.'s. My cheeks flushed more and I looked down at my teacup. "Sorry. Got carried away."

  D.T. reached over and patted my hand gently. "It's okay, professor."

  Jessie chuckled. "You're not wrong though, Caley," she said. "That's as good a way of describin' the problem as I've ever heard." She looked at D.T.. "Basically what I'm tryin' to say is, it's okay to feel a little guilty about killin' a livin' thing after the fact…but don't you forget why you did it in the heat of the moment."

  "They were trying to kill us," D.T. said. "To get past us, and past the scarecrows, to hurt George Roberts and his family."

  Jessie pointed at her. "Bingo. So, did you do wrong to stop 'em?"

  "No," D.T. said firmly, then sighed. "I guess I'm just uncomfortable with the fact that I stripped my gears and ignored all of my training in favor of going straight to violence."

  Jessie smiled gently. "If it's any consolation comin' from someone like me, you did the right thing. Maybe next time it'll be harder to know for certain, 'cause what you're fightin' might look or sound human…but remember, they might look human, might sound human, might be mighty intelligent thinkin' beings. But they ain't human," she said those words firmly. "That don't automatically mean they need killin', might just need to rough 'em up some…but anythin' that ain't willin' to talk, deal, or back off…don't you hesitate to use just as much violence as needed to put 'em down or run 'em off."

  She looked back and forth between us, then added very seriously. "The only people that'll suffer if you do hesitate are you, and who or whatever you were tryin' to protect." She smiled a little again. "'Cause I can't see either of you attackin' first."

  "But you have," D.T. said with quiet certainty.

  Jessie sat back, picked up her tea cup, and sipped slowly. When she put it down, she nodded. "Yeah, I have. Livin' in Faerie, I learned the hard way that there's times when hittin' first - hard and fast - is the only way to be respected. And havin' the respect of things that's more dangerous than you is sometimes the only thing that keeps ya alive. That, and knowin' when ta turn and run," she added softly, and sipped her tea again.

  "And yeah," she said, "workin' with the UNSDI, I've had to do some of that sorta work too. I'm right good at it. My granny, she made sure I was. The UNSDI recognized my skills right from the start, and didn't hide the fact that they wanted to make use of 'em."

  She looked back and forth between us again, very serious now. "But I promise you, the UNSDI ain't never asked me to put down a target that didn't need it. And even when I was livin' in Faerie, I can say with a clear conscience that I ain't never killed anything or anyone that didn't kill first."

  D.T. sighed. "That doesn't make killing right. And who are we to decide?"

  Jessie smiled a thin-lipped little smile. "No, it don't make it right. But sometimes it does make it necessary. And like it or not, we're often the ones who have to decide when push comes ta shove. We ain't normal folks."

  She pointed to me. "Sorceress."

  She pointed to D.T.. "Police."

  She pointed to herself and, after a moment's hesitation, said, "Troubleshooter."

  She probably had a different, more blunt description in mind, but felt the need to give it a little padding around us. Or, perhaps, just around D.T.

  D.T. snorted…she understood Jessie's meaning clearly, as did I.

  "Ain't none of us normal, everyday folks," Jessie repeated firmly. "We're all in positions - whether by choice," she nodded to D.T., "by heredity," she nodded to me, "or by happenstance," she tapped her own chest, "where sooner or later we'll have to make that choice. Personally, I take great comfort in knowin' that at least two of us here at this table have the kinda morals to make that choice well."

  "But not you," D.T. asked, frowning a little.

  Jessie considered the question seriously for a minute before replying. "Well, okay, it's not morals I'm talkin' about really. I can tell the difference between right and wrong just fine, usually. But…I grew up in Faerie. Granny taught me the Rules and Laws almost before I was settled in, but morals and ethics? Closest thing I got to an education in mortal morals and ethics usually came at the end of a nasty story and often boiled down to 'And that's what happens when ya fuck around and find out.'"

  She huffed a little laugh. "Granny and me did watch a fair bit'a TV and movies, too. To try and keep me grounded, she said. But Granny held the clicker, so I only saw what she thought was useful and educational. Anyway, rules and morality are close enough most times…the real bitch of it was when I came back and found out y'all's rules ain't Rules, and yer laws ain't Laws."

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  I could actually hear the capital letters in the way she said the words, and I thought I understood what she meant. I was going to ask her to clarify, but D.T. beat me to it, saying, "I'm not sure I follow."

  Jessie nodded. "I know. See, in Faerie, people do what they're supposed to because they gotta. Going against the Laws means a loss of power at best, and probably a lot worse if they get caught. Faerie itself has been known to subtly act to punish beings who broke the Laws, even when they appeared to get away with it. Which means the ones with the most power got the most to lose, and are a lot more likely to play by the rules.

  "Here in the mortal world," she continued, "y'all seem to know that you can just do whatever you please, and bad shit only happens if you get caught. And the worst that happens then - assumin' the cops didn't shoot ya on the spot, no offense - is that you get locked in a room and haveta stay there until they say you can come out. Meanwhile, the more powerful you are, the less likely you are to ever even see the inside'a one of those little rooms, or even to get more than the equivalent of a slap on the wrist."

  She smiled ruefully. "Some days, I'm not sure how y'all even function."

  I found myself nodding a little as she finished. A moment later I had to hide a smile as D.T. opened her mouth to reply, closed it, opened it again, then gave me a helpless look. What Jessie had just expressed was basically the same reason D.T. had been thinking about leaving the police.

  "Look at it this way," Jessie said with one of her little smiles. "Granny practically idolized - and raised me on a steady diet of - characters like the Scarlet Pimpernel, Robin Hood, Zorro, the Lone Ranger, Batman…" She paused and spread her hands.

  "Characters who valued justice over mortal law," I said with a nod.

  Jessie nodded with me, her smile growing just a little. "Old girl loved her a romantic outlaw. Y'all know how much it stung to find out the goddamn Batman ain't real?"

  I smiled. "Must've been like finding out Santa isn't real."

  "Don't tell him that," Jessie said, her eyes twinkling impishly. "He takes that kinda thing a mite personal-like."

  I blinked at her.

  "Only real difference between me and Granny is she tried to raise me to not do what she did for money," Jessie said. "She tried to teach me morals, best she could filtered through bein' a Sidhe and multiple mortal lifetimes in Faerie. She told me, 'Someday, you're gonna be better than me at everythin' I do. But I want you doin' it for the right reasons, not for money and favors. It'll make you hard for the Courts to use, and I don' want you bein' their tool, not for any reason.'"

  She sighed. "But then the Queen of Air and Darkness herself came for Granny, and I hadta book it back to the mortal world. And y'all don' even respect yer own laws. Ain't no proper consequences for breakin' 'em. So sometimes I have a hard time doin' what you'd consider the right thing."

  "Because your 'right thing' is more like Zorro," I said, "or the Lone Ranger. Punishing a crime that by mortal laws would go unpunished."

  Jessie spread her hands. "I could surely use a couple of friends who'd let me know when I'm about to do somethin' along those lines that ain't what I should."

  I was relieved when I saw the slow smile spread across D.T.'s face, and at the way things warmed up after that. Tea turned into an early supper, courtesy of Judy O'Day and her magnificent stew and fresh bread bowls. Sparkle had to hide herself away before long as Malcolm opened the pub back up for the supper crowd, but the three of us took our time with our meals. We talked quietly about our lives, sharing little stories and anecdotes - mine were by far the least interesting, while Jessie's could be astonishingly difficult to believe, and D.T.'s split the difference - and generally getting to know one another better.

  Jessie seemed both surprised and very pleased by the way the townsfolk who came in simply accepted her presence. While they frequently came by to introduce themselves - or even just paused to say good evening and pet Penny, who they were getting used to seeing in her Husky form - it always had the feel of genuine welcome and not the wary uncertainty of someone greeting a total outsider. I told her I thought this was reasonably normal for Oakwood, while D.T. expressed a belief that it was because she was with us, and we were treating her like a friend.

  Which reminded me of the way the crowd in the pub had responded when von Einhardt had threatened me. D.T. was probably right. But Jessie's concern was how the town would react to absorbing a few new - and probably a little weird - residents. She was largely reassured by the way nobody really reacted to her unnaturally flawless appearance and strange eyes.

  "Oakwood," she said approvingly and with obvious appreciation, "is a little strange."

  "We like it that way," an older man said in passing, on his way back to the bar to get a pint. He tipped an imaginary hat to her and winked. "Fit right in, you would."

  Then he was gone, and the three of us were laughing softly.

  It felt good to have friends and a community, I decided. Both were still rather alien to me, so I relished the feeling.

  Afterward, we stopped long enough for D.T. to change into civvies - black leggings, boots, and a green tunic - then the three of us walked slowly back up the road to Oakwood Hall together. Once we were out of town, Sparkle joined us, lighting our way, and Penny resumed her natural form.

  When we halted in front of the gates of the Hall, I was surprised to find myself reluctant to part ways with my new friend. I opened my mouth to invite her in for a cup of cocoa or something, but she held up a hand to forestall any invitation.

  "Too soon," she said, smiling one of her thin-lipped but warm and friendly smiles. "I don't want either of you thinkin' my whole goal was to peep inside Oakwood Hall. As a matter of good faith, I'll stay out of grounds and Hall alike until we know one another better."

  "Then I'd call this an excellent beginning," I said firmly. "You'll bring that info packet around for Clark?"

  Jessie nodded. "Surely will," she said. "Might round up a few copies so he can pass 'em around the town council. I got the impression that Malcolm O'Day fella had some serious influence in town."

  D.T. chuckled. "In semi-rural England, the pub is still the beating heart of the town. That or the church. Can I ask you a question?"

  "Think you've earned that right, yeah," Jessie said with a little chuckle. "Shoot."

  "Do you really trust your bosses?" D.T. asked. "The UNSDI?"

  Jessie gave the question serious consideration for a minute before replying. "Granny…part of what she considered my education was watchin' the mortal news when somethin' important was goin' down that she really wanted me to see. I seen what they did to that Rodney King feller, and I ain't never seen Granny in a better mood than when the regular folk up and started burnin' shit because of it.

  "She made sure I saw Ruby Ridge and Waco," she continued, "though she made right sure to point out that the folks involved with both were mostly either shitheels or loonies. But it still don't make it right when the government decides to come in that hard and heavy, and ignorin' their own rules when there's innocent critters and children in the crossfire.

  "I guess you could say she instilled a healthy distrust for mortal authority and institutions in me," Jessie went on thoughtfully, "not to mention their Fae reflections…though she made sure I was clear that the Laws of Faerie are real in a way mortal laws aren't. It's dangerous to openly flout them, and potentially lethal to break 'em…even if folks like us aren't as bound up in 'em as she was, on account of bein' mortal."

  She looked back and forth between us. "And yet, here I am, workin' with a shady international quasi-law enforcement agency." She smirked. "Should tell you how much Granny must've respected the folks she sent me to. I wouldn't've stayed with 'em if I didn't trust 'em."

  I saw her strangely iridescent emerald eyes find D.T.'s light brown ones. "That answer your question, Sergeant?"

  "Call me D.T.," was the reply, along with an extended hand. "It's been a really interesting experience meeting you, Jessie. I truly hope we can be good friends."

  Jessie smiled a bit more and shook D.T.'s hand warmly. "Feelin's mutual, D.T.. Surely is." She turned to me and shook my hand in turn. "I'll be in touch soon, Caley," she said. "Promise I won't do nothin' in town without clearin' it with you first."

  "Thank you, Jessie," I said. "If I don't hear from you, you might hear from me."

  I saw the briefest flash of white, even teeth in her smile at that. "Good. Penny, Sparkle, right pleasure to meet you properly this time. Good night, ladies!"

  With that, she turned on her heel and walked across the road to the woods. She was softly whistling John Denver's Country Roads when she simply vanished while walking between two trees. This time, I was alert enough to feel the surge of magic as she did whatever it was she did to travel along the ley lines.

  It was a subtle sensation, there and gone quickly, without any of the sort of brute force twisting feeling I'd sensed when seeing the ICOA representatives teleport away. It made me wonder about her method of travel, and her 'good faith' gesture of not entering the grounds and Hall.

  I frowned a little, wondering if she'd help me test the wards to determine if her method of travel would pass through them…or if she already believed it would. Would she even be able to travel directly into the Hall if she knew the way? I'd have to talk to Ken and Wadsworth about it.

  The four of us stood there - or hovered, in Sparkle's case - for a long minute, before D.T. said, "Well, she seems nice."

  I huffed a little laugh. "Honestly, I'm still trying to parse which bits of her personality and world view are the result of her being raised by an anarchist murder fairy, and how much is…" I trailed off, looking for the right way to put it.

  D.T. beat me to it. "Just her being extremely American?"

  "Precisely so," I agreed with a nod. I pulled out my phone and checked the time, then looked at D.T.. "Can you spare me another hour or three? I have an important decision to make, and I think I've put it off as long as I can. I'm going to call a war council, so to speak, and I'd very much appreciate your insights."

  "If you can forgive me for the way I left the other morning," D.T. said, "and for the way I avoided you."

  I waved a dismissive hand. "Forget about it. You're right to have those concerns, and I shouldn't have dismissed them so cavalierly. Frankly, I'm a little worried that it doesn't bother me the way it bothered you. I was a little hurt, but I understand it now."

  "So I can have my war hammer back?" D.T. asked as we turned and I opened the gates.

  "Hell no," I said. "That thing is dreadful. I'm going to make you a better one."

  that end, my sincerest thanks, as always, not only to my patrons, but to the fine folks here at Royal Road who take a moment to comment and let me know you're there. It means a lot to me. Double thanks to you amazing peeps who make corrections!