"Yeah, I get kinda zoned out sometimes," Dan continued, when he got no answer. "But I'm not brain- damaged. So if you think you can play games with the dumb n.i.g.g.e.r, you can find another set of keys." And he began to turn off power to his equipment, snap, snap, snap.

"Dan!" Eddi said, and he stopped. Follow it up, girl, or you lose him. She was no good with clever arguments-but she was very good with the truth. "This band means too much to me to mess with. I'm not lying, and I'm not playing jokes. If anybody here is being tricked, it's me. But I don't think I am. These people"-she made reference with a sweep of her hand, to w.i.l.l.y, Hedge, and the phouka-"really aren't human."

Eddi nodded toward the phouka. "You're the obvious proof," she said reluctantly.

"Certainly," said the phouka at once.

w.i.l.l.y made a sharp noise through his teeth. "Why go to the trouble? He can believe it or not. We don't have to jump through hoops for him." Then he stalked away across the room.

"Do it," Eddi told the phouka.

There was a dark sparkle all around him, the preface to his change, and Eddi wished she could stay and watch. No, she had to leave the phouka with the job of convincing Dan. Her problem was w.i.l.l.y.

She caught up with him at the other end of the cavernous room and grabbed his arm. She would have liked to take him by the shoulder and spin him to face her, like something from a Clint Eastwood movie.

But the effect was the same. He rounded on her under his own power, teeth bared. He was suddenly the person who, the night before, had pulled himself out from under that horse, blood fresh on his lance.

Eddi poked him hard in the breastbone, before he could speak. If she let him speak, she would never get him under control again....

"Don't you dare," she said, low-voiced. Any louder, after all, and her voice would shake. "Don't you ever f.u.c.king dare show that kind of contempt for anybody in this band. Do you play guitar better than Dan plays keyboards?"

After a moment, he shook his head angrily.

"Do you play better than Carla plays drums, or Hedge plays ba.s.s? No, I didn't think so. Then you better not care if they're fey, human, or little box turtles. They're your equals here, and you'll treat them that way."

"And what about you?" he said at last, through clenched teeth.

Now there was a question, indeed. "I'm the one who had to tell you this. I'm the boss. I keep the whole thing together. And don't you forget it."

He breathed like a man in a fight-which, she supposed, he was. And so many things to fight against, no matter which way he turned: Eddi, the Sidhe, the music in his hands that demanded an outlet. In an instant, he'd choose sides. She had to make him choose the right one.

So she stepped back. "I'm sorry. I'm a.s.suming things. There's no reason for you to put up with this."

He looked startled. Good.

"n.o.body can force you to be in this band," Eddi told him gently. "I won't. Your queen can't, because if your only reason for being here is her orders, I won't take you." When he looked dubious, she added, "I won't. She doesn't rule here. This is my band. She can get down on her lily-white knees and beg me to take you, and I won't do it. But if you want to play rock 'n' roll with these guys, and you'll take directions from me and leave the Seelie Court out of it-" Eddi shrugged. "Up to you."

w.i.l.l.y inhaled, let it out. "What about us?" he said, and his voice had something in it that made the meaning clear.

Eddi bit her lip. "You knew the first night that whatever happened between us had nothing to do with the band. That's something else you have to accept, if you stay."

w.i.l.l.y dislodged himself from the wall where she'd pinned him, and paced the length of the room. His head was down, and Eddi couldn't see his face.

At the opposite wall he turned, as if at bay, and said, "All right. It's a deal."

Eddi let out her breath at last. As close as she would ever come to her dream band...

The rest of the dream band watched them fixedly and in silence. The phouka, in his black-dog-from- h.e.l.l form, sat in the middle of them like a statue of Anubis from an Egyptian tomb. He c.o.c.ked an ear at her.

"Convinced?" Eddi asked Dan.

Dan looked thoughtful. "h.e.l.l of a piece of evidence," he said, pointing a thumb at the phouka.

"Am I not?" the phouka said, sounding pleased and furry.

Eddi frowned him into silence. "So you believe me?"

"Guess I gotta. But jeezus, girl... !"

Carla giggled. "Yeah, that's how I felt."

"Do you mind it all?" Eddi asked, since someone had to.

He looked down at one of his synthesizers, ran a finger across its display. "We're a good band," he said finally.

That, it seemed, was all that needed to be said. Eddi flexed her fingers, startled by the feeling of power in them, the current of elation that made her lightheaded. She picked up her guitar. "Let's make some noise, then," she said softly. The microphone filled the room with her voice.

chapter 14 Shall We Dance?

After three weeks of practice, they were better than any band Eddi had ever worked with. She suspected, half-elated and half-afraid, that by the end of the summer they might be better than any band she'd ever heard. If they all lived that long.

She stood in front of the bathroom mirror, putting on eyeliner. Her hands were inclined to shake. She wore skinny white jeans and a vintage beaded sweater with padded shoulders. "Jesus," she muttered at her reflection. "I look too pale. I look dead. Oh, G.o.dohG.o.doh-"

"That's enough," the phouka's voice came from the living room. "You'll be fine. You will, in fact, be exquisite, since I have never seen you otherwise."

Eddi felt as if she had a flock of sparrows loose in her ribcage. "Did we pack the guitar tuner?" she called.

"It's in the case with w.i.l.l.y's effects switches. Which is in the back of Carla's rolling horror of an automobile. Now that's something worth worrying about," he said, sounding thoughtful. "If Carla's horror chooses tonight to stop rolling, you'll be reduced to whistling through the set list."

She wailed, flung herself out of the bathroom, and threw a bar of soap at the phouka. He dodged it placidly. "Does that mean you can't whistle?" he inquired.

"You're an idiot." Then she saw him properly. "A good-looking idiot, though."

And he was. He wore a black suit with very narrow pants and a waist-length double-breasted jacket.

His white high-collared shirt was open at the throat. He'd finished it off with black high-heeled boots and a white silk opera scarf. His black hair shone in short curls around his face, and hung to his collar in back.

What might have been a ruby winked in one ear, a tiny point of scarlet fire.

He shrugged off her praise, but couldn't keep from blushing.

"You need a red carnation," Eddi told him. "You could get some cute art student to paint one on your lapel. MCAD girls have a secret fetish about men in suits, you know."

"Where is that bar of soap?" the phouka frowned.

"Gonna throw it at me?"

"Or wash out your mouth. I hadn't decided."

"It'd ruin my makeup." She took a deep breath. "Time to go?"

"I'd say so."

She put on her denim jacket and tucked her helmet under her arm. Door keys, wallet, a cache of extra guitar picks... She went out the door as if stepping into the deep end of a pool.

The Triumph growled them through the twilight. The air was crisp and cool as clean bedsheets, and Eddi took long breaths of it. Would the evenings be like this, if the Unseelie Court ruled in Minneapolis?

Would the wind feel as good, smell so much like a promise of summer?

She circled the cl.u.s.tered facilities of the College of Art and Design and the Inst.i.tute of Arts. At last she found a spot to park the bike, a little further from the campus than she would have liked.

"Is the protection of Faerie in effect here?" Eddi asked the phouka.

"Such as it is, my sweet. Why?"

"Because if the bike gets stolen, I want to know who to blame."

"For shame," the phouka replied. "I shall remember, in the future, that stage fright makes you testy."

"Get stuffed."

"You see?"

They would be playing in the new building, in the midst of a showing of students' paintings. Eddi wasn't sure if the band was intended as dancing or background music, but she'd decided that they would play what they liked, regardless, and play softer if they had to.

The stage was a platform set up at the end of the gallery, with double doors, now open, behind it. To Eddi's relief, Carla and Dan were already there, and the wagon was backed up to the doors. Carla was setting up her drum kit. Dan's keyboards, stand, and miscellaneous intriguing junk were in a daunting heap just off the platform.

"What'll I carry?" Eddi asked.

"Nothing," the phouka said, before Dan could answer. "I take my duties as roadie very seriously, my heart. I will bring you your axe, and you may tune it."

Carla stared after him as he went out the double doors. Then she sighed, tossed a drumstick in the air, and caught it. "Why can't I find one like that?"

Eddi wrinkled her nose. "Act your age, DiAmato, not your stick size."

"Besides, they wouldn't take you," Dan told Carla. "The Pook says they only dig cute girls."

"You wanna walk home, Northside?"

"Who you callin' Northside, Northside?"

Eddi smiled indulgently upon them, and wondered how the h.e.l.l Dan and the phouka had come to discuss any such thing.

The phouka came back with a load of equipment and w.i.l.l.y, who was likewise burdened. They both looked serious and a little preoccupied. Eddi relieved the phouka of her amp.

"Who died?" she asked them.

"What?" said w.i.l.l.y, startled.

"Something's up, yes?"

The phouka nodded. "I'll let w.i.l.l.y tell you, my primrose. My strong back is needed elsewhere."

"All our strong backs are needed. Tell me while we set up."

w.i.l.l.y shrugged, and trailed after them.

It was the dinner hour, and the gallery was spa.r.s.ely populated. Eddi located the nearest electrical outlets and began to run extension cords. w.i.l.l.y followed in her wake, plugging in equipment. As he worked, he talked. Carla, Eddi noticed, was listening with a frown, Dan with a wondering look.

"Council of War last night," w.i.l.l.y said. "The whole b.l.o.o.d.y fight will last well into fall, if last night's discussion is typical."

"Why's that?"

"Everyone's stalling," w.i.l.l.y said. "After the bloodbath at the Falls, n.o.body's willing to set the next battle until one Court or the other thinks it has an advantage."

"Wonderful. But what advantage are they waiting for?"

w.i.l.l.y sat back on his heels and regarded her skeptically.

"Oh, come on," Eddi sighed. "I'm pretty quick for a human, all right?"

"True enough," w.i.l.l.y said with a rueful quirk of an eyebrow. "All right. There are certain days a.s.sociated with magic. Halloween, May Eve, the solstices and equinoxes, a few others. Some are more favorable to one Court than the other. The next big event is Midsummer's Eve, which is a good one for the Seelie Court. The Eve itself is a truce period. But the Sidhe would like to hold off and fight soon after that, when we're still strong."

"But you said that both sides are stalling?"

"The Dark Court is pressing for a battle on June first-hoping that our weakness will be worse than theirs, I suppose. If they don't get that, they'll delay as long as they can. And I doubt they'll get June first."

Eddi stared at him. "They negotiate times and places for these things? How do they get anything done?

How did they agree on Min-nehaha Falls?"

"If it's something both sides want, they manage. And both sides want this war, and the spoils from it.

One Court will accept a less favorable time in exchange for a site that offers them some advantage. It's not very different from rival mortal nations."

Eddi sighed. "I guess I'm used to self-propelled wars. This all sounds too reasonable to be believed."

w.i.l.l.y smiled crookedly. "Oh, yes. All very gentlemanly and fair. With a.s.sa.s.sinations and guerrilla tactics between times."

"I thought you were one of the guys who made the rules," Eddi said, very soft.

That brought his black eyebrows down, made his hands stop. Then he tossed her the power cord for her amp, and she plugged it in.