Free Bigfootloose and Finn Fancy Free by Randy Henderson Page B

through a prison cafeteria that the meatloaf really is horse meat. The four enforcers shifted their booted feet and raised their glowing batons, prepared to swing or cast their magics.
    Silene stepped forward, facing Knight-Captain Reyes. “There was no attack except against us. We only went there to protest, as is within our right. The alchemist, and arcana like him, they exploit brightbloods for—”
    â€œI’m not here to discuss the reasons,” Reyes said. “I’m here to take custody of those involved. And I’m losing patience. You’ve got until the count of ten to comply. One. Two—”
    â€œStop!” Silene said. “We’ll comply, of course. But I will be reporting this to our Archon.”
    â€œReport away, as long as it’s not on my time.”
    Silene turned back to the crowd. “Step forward and go with the enforcers. We have nothing to hide and no reason to fear them. Each injustice just makes our cause stronger, and the Silver Court will not abandon us.”
    *She assumes much,* Alynon said, and I detected a tone of bitterness.
    After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, three feybloods moved forward. Frog face. A faun. And surprise surprise, Dunngo.
    And lastly, Challa pushed through the crowd with her long sasquatch strides.
    Bat’s breath.
    Each enforcer approached a feyblood and placed a silver collar around their feyblood’s neck.
    Reyes secured Challa, and said so all could hear, “You will be taken to the Sequim DFM facility, and given all considerations accorded you under the Pax. The regional Silver Archon will be notified, and a changeling ambassador will be present for all questioning.” Then she looked at me. “Gramaraye, your presence here has been noted. Don’t leave the domain of the North American ARCs. We might want to question you as well.”
    Great. “I won’t. But—”
    â€œLet’s go,” Reyes said, and the enforcers guided their feyblood prisoners back into the forest, in the direction of the roads.
    â€œFriendly bunch,” I muttered.
    You’d think, after being falsely sent into exile and then helping to stop a major conspiracy by an ARC magus, I’d get a bit more respect from the enforcers. But they still treated me more like Rodney Dangerfield than Aretha Franklin.
    *Welcome to my world,* Alynon said.
    Right, speaking of which—
    I turned around to find the feybloods all glaring at me. Silene stood watching me with her arms crossed and eyes cold.
    I raised my hands again. “Really, I had nothing to do with this. In fact, I’d, uh, like to help if I can.”
    â€œWe don’t want arcana help!” the bear grumbled.
    â€œDon’t be foolish,” a faun said. “We can use all the allies we can get.”
    Romey crossed her arms over her fox-colored dress. “We don’t need an arcana coming in and playing hero. Especially not a Gramaraye. We brightbloods can do for ourselves.”
    Especially not a Gramaraye? Great.
    â€œLook—” I began, when the sound of snapping branches and someone or something crashing through the underbrush came from the forest behind me, from the opposite direction of the enforcers.
    A centaur burst out from the trees, carrying an unconscious girl in a gauzy dress slung across his back.
    â€œStrange things are afoot at the Circle K,” I muttered.

 
    5
    Sign O the Times
    â€œI found another,” the centaur bellowed as he landed in the clearing and skidded to a stop, his hooves plowing furrows in the mossy soil.
    â€œQuick,” Silene said to the centaur, “lay her down beneath my tree.” She looked to me. “If you truly wish to help us, then help her.”
    â€œI don’t understand,” I replied. “Help how? What’s wrong?”
    Silene scowled. “She suffers Grayson’s Curse.”
    â€œGrayson’s what-now?”
    â€œYou should know,