Autumn Madness

       Emil’s life was at stake in that game. Or sanity, at least. He tried to focus on his cards and his plan, but the trick was that he should be focusing on Onni’s cards instead, and then he’d inevitably see Onni’s head top above the cards and clench teeth in despair. …He had attempted to act like a sensible adult and approach the man with a straightforward request. But before Emil had asked Lalli to translate the request into Finnish, and hearing it, Lalli had quirked an eyebrow, said no, and called Emil weird. Or a fool, Emil forgot which word meant what. He was not so sure of his Finnish to convey even such a simple wish as his. So, he had to resort to a gambling card game with favours instead of money bets. But that required extensive setup. First, there shouldn’t be any other players. Other guests were easy to evade. Just wait till they’re busy with another game or dinner. Onni wouldn’t join another company on his own. Then, there was Reynir. A formidable obstacle, he was following the older Hotakainen all the time (unless the latter managed to disappear). Emil decided to wear him down by engaging him in card games in advance so often that the redhead was fed up with cards and fled to chat with Lalli at the mere sight of a deck. Oh Lalli, he refused to help in any way, even just to check a draft of conversation lines in Finnish on paper. Emil had to find the closest municipal office and put his smile and shiny hair to use to charm some Swedish-speaking skald girls to check the Finnish phrases for him. Not much of a job it was, really. Let’s play Old Maid. Without money stakes, but the loser must fulfil any wish of the winner. And finally, Emil should win, and he had only been winning when playing with Reynir and Lalli, as they both didn’t know (or care to know) the rules. Whenever Sigrun, Mikkel, or other guests joined a game, he would lose. Onni had participated in some rounds of Old Maid with the team once, so he did know the rules. So, to win, Emil just had to resort to cunning. For starters, Emil played one round without any tricks and even lost. Handing a coin to Onni, he stated his offer to use favours instead of cash and took a mildly surprised ‘mh’ as a yes. The sun chose the wrong day to shine like it was still summer. Emil suffered in his thick black jacket but couldn't take it off since an extra queen of spades from another deck was sitting in his sleeve for an improbable case if he ended up with the Old Maid on hand by the end of round two. Somehow, he did. Despite having made neat, unsuspicious notches on the Queen of Spades of this deck in the morning. Holding the Queen and a Six, he initiated phase two. With a furtive move, he swapped the Six with the card in his sleeve so that Onni would pull out the Old Maid by all means. Then Emil would recognise a Queen in his victim’s hand by the notches, pick a safe card, and shed it carefully together with the extra Queen. And state his wish. Emil had practiced the trick a bit and was sure he was good at it. Onni didn’t notice the swap and sat as calm and infuriating as ever, his eyes gleaming whitish blue now and then, like Lalli’s. Some family schtick, probably. Emil didn’t have time to dwell upon it as Onni reached out to pick one of the two identical queens. His hand hovered over the cards and dove down to Emil’s sleeve to fish out the missing six. Emil froze in place while Hotakainen stood up with a “Pidä hauskaa” in a deadpan voice, picked up his cape from a chair, and left. Have fun. Emil had anything but fun. Itching sweat, humiliation of defeat, creeping suspicion that he was not the only one who had cheated, and what was worse— He shut his eyes tight not to see the man (the view from behind was just as bad as from the front), lest he’d crack and dash after Onni, trip and fell him, and press him to the ground, pull his head up, and cut the offending mullet! Emil even had scissors for that! He could not watch it anymore; every cell in his brain was cringing. Onni had probably the Worst Haircut in both the Known and the Silent Worlds. Lalli was really neat by comparison, and even Reynir seemed tolerable, especially when Emil pinned down most of the tousled red hair (the relative order lasted only until the first gust of wind, though). In the woods, Emil’s aesthetic sensitivity hadn’t been wounded that much because a variety of monsters kept the team focused and entertained. But now the team was staying in the same inn, eating at the same ‘restaurant’ at the same time, and Onni checked on his cousin quite often. Since Emil and Lalli spent most of their time together, Emil had his nerves frayed several times a day. He even had nightmares where Onni grew as much hair as Reynir but of that Hotakainen brand colour and texture, or where Emil would be infected with Untidy Mullet. On such nights, Lalli had to roll from under the bed and tap Emil on the head to bring him to his senses. And there was not much to cut, really; just crop the nape, trim the temples and front, get rid of the ends sticking out, and Onni’d stop looking like a scarecrow. Slowly, Emil breathed in, then out. Life went on. If there was one thing his adventures in the Silent World had taught him (and there had been more than one), it’s that he should never give up. Even squatting in a toilet besieged by a horde of dusklings, with the half-dead body of your only friend lying beside you, might not be the End. Sure, he ran out of easy ways to do away with the mullet abomination, but it only meant it was time to get serious. He just had to come up with reasons why giving Onni a new haircut was a fun and challenging task, and Sigrun would help. She had once offered to knock the guy out to drag him back to civilization. Why wouldn’t she do that to bring civilization to him? At this time, Sigrun would usually be walking with Mikkel somewhere on the island. Emil stood up and scanned the scenery from the high terrace of the inn.