An Unseelie Court

Come pups. Run, run, run!

Mab had diverted all her energy to the barrage of whispers pinning the crone to the ground. "Sleep, human. Rest. Fighting is fruitless."

The damned monstrous canine kept her moving, shifting through Dream to other parts of her court. Whenever she appeared, the human fired her damned weapon. Illusion after illusion crumbled. Raising her hand above her head and yanking it down, red lightning fell from the sky and struck Buttercup. Yelping, she rolled away and Mab shifted to a new location.

Bounding after her, Buttercup launched herself at the Mistress of Dreams. More illusions built, more bullets fired. Was this woman's supply endless? Lightning struck again, again and again.

"Rest. Gather your strength. You can do nothing if you are weak. Sleep and grow strong."

Wearily, Cynthia lifted her head. "Fuck you." She fired again.

The Buttercup was slowing and the woman was weakening. This had been... thrilling. They were near the end and her court was in shambles. She would rebuild and the siblings were still hers. He would grow to be her new Champion and she would be a battery, adding her power to Mab's.

Lifting both hands, she pulled down bolt after bolt. Formed of the essence of nightmares, Buttercup fell and tried without success to move. Her soft yelps were almost human sounding as she continued to struggle, to protect, to destroy Evil.

Mab turned her attention to Cynthia. "Now, you withered bruja, now you shall learn of power!"

Well over 200 pounds of angry dog slammed into her, knocking her to her knees.

No, Evil! No! No hurt pack! Dink kill Evil!

Red lightning struck his dog as William looked about and searched. There! By the throne. Running, he grabbed the bokken. Crafted from wood his father and relatives had used in building Cynthia's crib, it was imbued with their love. A love for Jennifer, who was pregnant at the time, and a love for Finn's children. William refined the wood with the help of his uncle's father. He fashioned a weapon to be used in the defense of those he loved.

Grabbing the hilt so quickly that it almost felt as if it had launched itself into his hand, the wood was warm and welcoming.

"Run, Dink! Run!"

The dog was trying to avoid the lightning while snapping at Mab. Buttercup struggled to her feet and moved forward. Firing again, the old woman destroyed another likeness of Mab. The little girl kept opening doorways out of Dream and Mab kept closing them. Doubt took seed and she began to feel something new. Was this fear?

Bokken in hand, William moved towards the beautiful evil creature of myth.

There was an air of discovery and revelation to the voice. "William, no. The throne. It has to be. Destroy the throne."

Turning, he looked at the woman with his mother's voice. "Aunt Cynthia?"

She was on her knees and leaning forward, propped up by one hand. "Yes, baby. Aunt Cynthia. Her power is in the throne."

Turning back, he returned to where he found his weapon, lifted it and struck the onyx throne. Blue light coursed through the bokken and thin green faces seemed to stream up through the throne to the point where he struck. He slammed into it again.

The very walls shook with Mab's scream. "Noooooooo!"

"Yes, bitch. I told you that you fucked with the wrong old woman."

William struck again and again. Mab raised both arms, ready to call down lightning on the child. Buttercup slammed into her back, forcing the monarch face forward onto the floor.

A fissure appeared in the black stone and more delicate green faces rose, almost in wait, lying just below the surface.

William let loose a primal scream as he slammed his weapon down a final time. Blue light suffused the wood and the teenager. The bokken broke in half. He looked at his aunt in confusion and then at Mab.

Rising to her knees, a feral smile grew on Mab's face. The court grew dark and a wind began to blow. She raised her hands and began to laugh. "You have failed! You have all failed!" She continued her laugh of the mad.

A loud cracking sound interrupted her laughter. Smaller cracking sounds followed and things began to stream from the throne. Wraith-like and green they flew about the room as the cracking noise continued. A final loud booming sounded and the throne split in two. Thousands upon thousands of the creatures flew from their prison and Mab seemed to grow smaller, less substantial.

Buttercup and Dink began to back away as the creatures flew towards Mab, descending on her. The creatures were similar in appearance to Mab, as if there was a family resemblance. Their colors were green where hers were red, but they had the same refined features, slightly pointed ears and unearthly beauty.

"William, Buttercup, Dink!" The little girl was standing next to her namesake. She opened another portal as everything began to shake; walls, corpses and trees. "I sent the last of the kids through. This place is falling apart. We have to go."

The old woman spoke up. "Wait!" She pulled the children close and hugged them tight. "I love you both. You could have been mine. Tell Finn... tell your father that I'll always love him. Tell your mother she's done better than I could have ever hoped. Now go."

They heard Mab screaming as the creatures swirled around her, blocking her from view. The omnipresent dark red faded, to be replaced by a rich hunter's green.

Cynthia pushed the youngsters she considered to be the grandchildren of her soul through the portal, found the strength to get to her feet and stumbled through herself. Buttercup leapt through. Dink looked back at Evil and then at the portal. Stepping forward, he raised a paw, then put it down again. Hesitantly, he walked through.

Spirits for most returned to bodies.

In his exuberance, Finn slammed the front door open and bellowed to his son. "William! She's okay. She woke up! Cynthia's going to be fine. William?"

Moving to the den, he heard his son before he saw him. There was a heart rending wailing making its way to the panicked father. Turning the corner, Finn saw his son cradling Dink's lifeless body, rocking back and forth. Buttercup alternated between nudging Dink's body with her head and licking an inconsolable William.

Finn knew. Somehow, he knew that his friend was gone. Falling to his knees, he gently pulled his son to him and slowly joined his rocking while they wordlessly grieved.

They buried their friend on a hill in their large backyard. It overlooked the water, the house and Finn's yacht, where Dink had chased off the low-level thugs who had assaulted him.

Fittingly, Pete was the first to arrive. Cynthia had been his mother in all but name and he had driven her everywhere. They were together when they picked up Dink as a puppy at JFK. They had sent over a few of Finn's shirts to the monks in Tibet who had agreed to part with the young Fu Dog. They packed the shirts in the shipping crates and Dink gained his first smells of Finn, his Human.

Pete brought his wife, infant and stepdaughter. His custom auto restoring businesses contracted with a number of fabricators on Long Island and he'd had a beautiful marble headstone engraved.

"Dink Corrigan, Friend and Hero, Never far from our hearts"

There was an excellent likeness of a young Dink below the text.

It must have weighed hundreds of pounds, but when he showed up, Alistair carried it with ease. When Cynthia decided to get a pet and protector for her beloved Finn, she consulted with Alistair. He'd recommended the rare breed, knowing of its unique qualities. Alistair was very concerned with how the death of Dink would impact William. He'd been spending time in Montauk, anyway, helping the children who'd suddenly reappeared. They'd awakened in the woods near the spider nest, some having been there for decades. None were the worse for the wear, physically, but all needed help. He'd stay, help Finn and these children and work on finding his own siblings whenever possible.

Tommy, Siobhan and Marissa arrived next. Tommy carried a bag of premium bacon and for the first time in a long time, he seemed subdued. Dr. Stacy and her girlfriend soon followed. Finn hadn't been sleeping or eating, and she was concerned. Cherrie held her hand, knowing how difficult it could be for someone on the spectrum to show concern and allow physical intimacy. It wasn't a conscious decision, but she acted as a buffer and protector for the woman she loved.

Before Dink had driven him off, the assassin stalking William had almost killed Finn and seriously injured Siobhan. Stacy oversaw their recovery and was a friend, partner and headed up the medical clinic for the underprivileged that Finn and Jennifer funded.

With everyone sitting on chairs in front of the grave, Finn stood and walked to a little podium they had set up. Head lowered, he stood there for a few minutes. Friends and family could see his shoulders shaking. Wiping his eyes, he eventually looked up. Taking a deep breath, he appeared to start to say something and then stopped. The same thing happened again.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I just can't. I can't."

Jennifer stepped up, hugged her husband, kissed his cheek and led him to his seat. She then went back to the podium.

"When I first arrived in Montauk, the first people I met were Finn and Dink, and yes, Dink was people. I soon fell madly in love with both of them. He was the very best of dogs. We're going to go on and we're going to be okay. Someday soon, we'll even be happy again. He was happiest when we were happy. He'd run around the backyard when we had people over, begging for treats, playing with the kids. He..." She wiped away a tear of her own. "He was Dink and we'll always love him."

Many people stood and shared an anecdote about their time with Dink, and before Tommy left the bag of bacon on the grave, he told everyone about the time that Dink urinated on the clothes of his rival for Siobhan's affections.

Finn and William were consumed by their grief. Time passed slowly and both spent much time on the hill, remembering their friend.

For the first time in weeks, William fell asleep quickly and deeply. He was soon standing in centerfield, wearing a Mets uniform and looking about CitiField. Feeling the strength in his legs, he knew he had the range and speed to cover all of center as well as parts of right and left. Hands on his knees, he looked to the dugout and saw Pete on the steps nodding at him approvingly. William knew it wasn't really Pete, but he nodded back anyway.

The familiar voice of the announcer came over the speakers. "Pinch hitting for Krampus, Cynthia Corrigan."

The screen in leftfield lit up with her picture, and stats. Cynthia Corrigan, DreamWalker, Batting average 1.0.

Striding out of the dugout with a bat over her shoulder, Cynthia wore a pink Mets uniform. She walked out to centerfield and took her brother's hand. As most things in dream-logic, it all made sense somehow. Unlike with Pete, William knew that this was really his sister.

She looked around. "You've been so sad. This is a happier dream, a better place. I bet you catch every ball Krampus hits."

William just smiled and Cynthia continued.

"You need to come with me. Someone's waiting for us."

Still holding her big brother's hand, she led him to the dugout, grabbed a ball, and continued into the player's tunnel. If felt as if they walked for a very long time, but it was hard to judge such a thing in dreams. The aroma of fresh cut grass began to fade and was replaced with the smells of the sea. The end of the tunnel was in sight and Cynthia stopped.

"He misses you terribly, but he's happy here. There's no pain, no blindness and he has... I don't know, what would you call it? Purpose? He protects children and drives off nightmares. He's helping other kids like he always helped us."

William knew that if he was in his body, he'd feel his heart racing and his palm growing sweaty. "Cynthia, what are you talking about? Who... Who misses me?"

"You know, William. He was here when his heart gave out in the real world. He had no body to go back to. He lives here now, helping people who need him. He's strong and fast and... proud, I think. Nightmares already whisper about him. Go on. I'll wait here and come get you when it's time."

She placed the ball in his hand and watched as he slowly walked to the end of the tunnel.

Resting until he was needed again, Dink lay on the dock behind the empty home of his pack. Lifting his head, he sniffed and howled with joy.

William? Best Boy come to Dink?

Peeking out of the tunnel, Cynthia saw the oversized dog running to his boy in this facsimile of her backyard. William fell to his knees and hugged Dink, his protector and lifelong companion. Tears fell from his eyes and Dink seemed determined to lick away every drop.

Smiling, Cynthia knew she would be bringing William back here often.

She had been an unwitting victim of experimental military technology that tore her from April 8th, 1968 and brought her to April 8th, 2018. Left there for six months, subject to unending nightmares due to what she saw in the instant between 1968 and 2018, she fell in love. His name was Finn and he was the only sanity in a mad situation. Then the ultimate nightmare; the technology returned seeking her out. Six months after she arrived, the woman who was to become Cynthia was pulled back to the time she had left, leaving the love of her life in 2018. She spent the next 50 years of her life waiting for Finn to be born, watching him grow up and protecting him from harm.

It was a vicious cycle. Each time as a 68-year-old woman, she would wait for April 8th, 2018, the day a younger version of herself would appear and have her own six months with Finn. Every time the five decades were spent on creating plans to circumvent the technology and allow her other self to stay with Finn. Every iteration passing on the failed plans and suggestions for the next attempt. Only to begin the cycle again as each and every Jennifer was torn back, away from her hearts' true wish.

Until now. Until this Cynthia. The 'real' Cynthia, as she thought of herself.

She had broken that chain. Substituting herself for Jennifer, Cynthia returned to 1968 an old woman, allowing Jennifer to stay with Finn.

This time she could guide and protect as an older, wiser individual, one who had already lived the times between. One who could amass wealth and power and knew the plays to make.

This Cynthia thought of herself and this Jennifer more as sisters. All the earlier Jennifer's that were sent back and had to live without Finn were kindred but had led different lives. Similar, but different, although their goals were all the same. They had wanted a future where her younger self could live the life they all dreamed of. They dreamt of towheaded children, raised on the shores of Long Island under the watchful eye of Finn, the man they loved. She had achieved that dream, not for herself but for this Jennifer. In some ways, she had the ultimate triumph and the ultimate despair. This Jennifer got to live the life she had worked for.

Because she was the one who went back with double knowledge, this time Finn and her other, younger self would want for nothing. Neither would her beloved George's family. The belt of Krugerrands she had strapped to her waist ensured that her final days would be spent in comfort. Her family was long-lived, so Cynthia figured she had another fifteen to twenty years left. She spent them catching Billy Joel in local bars and watching Harry Chapin develop into an artist.

Her wagers were few, but spectacularly successful. She became a die-hard fan of her New York Mets, betting heavily on them in '69 and '86. Cynthia could have made a great deal of money on the Yankees in the '70s, but she had taste. Instead, she put her money into real estate, buying property in the Hamptons and Shelter Island. Gold was the greatest investment in the '70's, growing in value more than two-thousand percent, so she spent conservatively and hoarded. In 1981, Cynthia put much of her money into Apple. Buster Douglas knocking out Mike Tyson would have made her wealthy if she wasn't already. Cynthia had to spread that bet over twenty-three casinos across the world.

She knew most of the political scandals before they happened. The results of political campaigns were known before they were run. Cynthia backed the right people and collected favors like little boys collect baseball cards. Fairly quickly, she had power brokers at her beck and call.

Cynthia had two grand adventures after substituting herself for Jennifer. She stepped into the world of dreams when Jennifer fought against an ancient evil. Cynthia helped her younger self destroy the creature and found comfort in Jennifer's assurances that she and Finn had formed a family and were profoundly happy.

She stepped back into that dreamworld to save Jennifer and Finn's children, who she had so hoped would be her own. They were beyond beautiful and were a balm to the constant wound of losing Finn. She held their memories tight the rest of her days.

Cynthia forced the shadow government to close the Montauk Project even though she knew that they would just open up somewhere else under a different name. She did what she could and kept her neighbors and family free of those who pushed the boundaries of science without concern for undesired consequences. Cynthia didn't consider herself smart enough to figure out how that would impact Finn and Jennifer, but she believed that she stopped the time loop when she came back.

The nightmares of her time in the mental institution and the alien whispers of the creature from beyond our universe slowed as she entered her final years and were replaced by dreams of William and her namesake, little Cynthia, the children of her younger self. Cynthia knew they were true visions and not the yearnings of an old woman. Her body was ninety-three and the grains of sand in her hourglass were growing few.

She had three great loves of her life, and memories of each comforted her as she awaited the end. Pete was her adopted son, the boy and then the man who needed kinship and love as much as she did. Together, they pushed back on the encroaching walls of isolation and loneliness. Time and again, they pulled each other from the morass of slipping into cold despair and the fear of being unloved.

George was her companion, her best friend, her protector and eventually her lover. One of her greatest regrets was that she couldn't give herself fully to him. What he wanted, what he deserved; she had given to another. George was as solid as the Earth and she leaned upon him for decades. He was the best man she had ever known.

And then there was Finn, her North Star. She spent the best six months of her life with Finn and her love never faded. It was as if every moment without Finn was lived in shadow. Cynthia could close her eyes and still see him as if they were back on his clamming boat, Dink by their side. The smell of the sea, of his cologne and sweat still tickled her nose; the faint sound of his laughter and murmured endearments echoed in her ear.

Their love was alive, tangible and part of her. Doing what she could to ensure his happiness when her own was lost was what kept her above water during her darkest days. Finn was her alpha and her omega, her beginning and her end.

Cynthia had led a lonely but oddly full life and had prepared a better future for her other self. Jennifer would have the love that Cynthia never had. Jennifer would have Finn, and that was enough. He would be loved, and that love would redeem her sacrifice.

Having secured their future, Cynthia was content. She lay on her bed beside the large bay window, listening to the Atlantic lap at the shore. The shadows of her other selves stood beside the bed, so alike and yet each different. As she took her last breath, she rose to join them on their next adventure, leaving her tired body behind.