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“I used River’s financial advisor to pull some strings. You’re expected to arrive at the school tomorrow morning to begin work as the school janitor.” I blinked. “Wait. Bigfoot has a financial advisor? Who? Like, Nessie?” “Don’t be a child,” she said. “The human tribes assist the Forest People by providing an interface. River’s folk give financial, medical, and educational aid in return. It works.”
Sometimes my head is like an Etch A Sketch. I shook it a little, and the image went away.
At this Coach Pete looked confused. He clearly didn’t like feeling that way, which seemed a shame, since I suspected he spent a lot of time doing it.
“You’ve read the Hitchhiker’s Guide?” “Forty-two times,” I said. He smiled and then ducked his head again. “No one else here likes it.”
“And it doesn’t make you angry,” I said. “Not even a little.” His hands slowed down and his face turned thoughtful. “Sometimes,” he said quietly. “When they spoil my broccoli.” I blinked. “Broccoli?” “I love broccoli,” Irwin said, looking up at me, his expression serious. “Kid,” I said, smiling, “no one loves broccoli. No one even likes broccoli. All the grown-ups just agree to lie about it so that we can make kids eat it, in vengeance for what our parents did to us.” “Well, I love broccoli,” Irwin said, his jaw set.
The two bullies never took their eyes off Irwin, even while talking and joking with their group. I recognized that behavior, though I’d never seen it in a child before; only in hunting cats, vampires, and sundry monsters. The two kids were predators. Young and inexperienced, maybe. But predators. For the first time, I thought that Bigfoot Irwin might be in real trouble.
“Thinking for yourself is the most valuable skill you’ll ever learn.”
If we’d been fighting with swords, that move would have been the same as him clipping off the tips of my eyelashes without drawing blood. This guy would kill me if I fought him.
Svartalves were old-school, and their culture had been born in the time of the Vikings. They thought mortal combat was at least as fun as it was scary, and their idea of mercy embraced killing you quickly as opposed to killing you slowly. If I started up with this svartalf, it wouldn’t be over until one of us was dead. Probably me. I was afraid.
“Was that okay?” he asked me. “I mean, did I do right?” “Asking me if I thought you did right isn’t the question,” I said. Irwin suddenly smiled at me. “Do I think I did right?” He nodded slowly. “I think . . . I think I do.” “How’s it feel?” I asked him. “It feels good. I feel . . . not happy. Satisfied. Whole.” “That’s how it’s supposed to feel,” I said. “Whenever you’ve got a choice, do good, kiddo. It isn’t always fun or easy, but in the long run it makes your life better.”
