by Zoe Chant
“An imperfect analogy,” Henrik agreed.
“Does it seem weird to you that the start of our calendar just happens to fall on the day that this...alignment occurs?”
Henrik’s golden-eyed gaze was considering. “It seems a great coincidence.”
“We’ve had stories of faery for a long time,” Gwen said, tracing her own menu with her fingers. “They show up in almost every culture.”
“Perhaps not just coincidence, then.”
The waitress brought their bill with two plastic-wrapped peppermints and Gwen gave her a credit card. “You used that with the game purchase as well,” Henrik said curiously.
Gwen was still explaining credit and money systems when they left the restaurant. “Want a closer look at the locks?” she invited. It was the most natural thing in the world to slip her hand into his, even though there were no crowds to battle through here and she didn’t fear losing him. They walked down to the waterside, and Henrik gaped at the giant ships.
“The scale,” he repeated in awe. “They are whole cities.”
Gwen had never seen the locks, either, and they were both sightseers together, marveling at the scope of the engineering and wandering down the length of the shopping district, stopping to read all the informational signs and drop quarters into the telescopes.
They watched the slow rise and fall of the water until Gwen was shivering, and Henrik insisted that they return to the car.
There was a dusting of snow on Daniella’s car, and they hurried to brush it off and warm it up.
On their way home, to Gwen’s surprise, Henrik opened up about his own world. “We do not have wonders quite like yours,” he said thoughtfully, watching the landscape zoom by. “But there are many beautiful places. The waterfalls of Aeron are considered a marvel of magic. They are as tall as one of those ships is long, and the water will heal injury and repair a despondency. There are butterflies that live only there that can leach pain from someone who is suffering, and the bird cries are a more beautiful music even than your rock music.
“The gates of Fallesh are mountains so high that no one can survive to their peaks, though it is rumored that the magic there is of such purity that no ill can be done with it.”
He talked about glowing bugs like fireflies that fed on unwanted memories, and creatures like foxes with wings that could find lost things if the right questions were asked.
“Do you miss it?” Gwen asked. They hadn’t bothered to put music on for their drive home; Henrik’s beautiful voice was enough for her as he spoke of the world he’d left behind.
He was silent a moment, then said simply, “It has fallen. My place now is here, to ensure that it does not happen again in your world.”
When they arrived at Ansel’s big house, Gwen pulled the car into Daniella’s parking space and they got out and walked to the front door.
There they paused and Gwen wondered for a breathless moment if Henrik was going to kiss her before they went in.
He took her hands in his own, and looked down at her with a curious expression of longing and sadness. She tipped her head up, but he did not offer to bend down. Before she could gather her courage to ask him for a kiss, Fabio alerted to the fact that they were there and began baying in enthusiastic welcome. The moment was broken.
They went inside, and Henrik was immediately plied for details about the wonders of Sault Saint Marie and their outing.
11
Henrik swiftly realized that Gwen was not only a skilled warrior, but also a patient and capable teacher. She wore a simple uniform of white early the following day, with a black belt tied at her waist.
“When you use Tang Soo Do, it’s not just about fighting,” she explained to Henrik. “There are eight key concepts: courage, concentration, endurance, honesty, humility, control of your power, tension and release, and control of your speed. Some schools also add justice and connection. But it is never about hitting people or hurting them. It is about taking control of your own self and being the best person that you can, with your own body, your mind, and your spirit. We will start with a series of basic stances, and build on each form with new techniques.”
She proceeded to demonstrate all of the many forms, in a seamless flow of her body, punctuated by fast kicks and punches and loud cries. Henrik could see at once that control was a very key part of what she did, and it was almost a dance, as much ritual as it was a show of strength, flexibility, and speed. Henrik watched her breathe as she moved, careful and deliberate.
“Do you feel anything, as she does that?” Robin was sitting on Henrik’s shoulder, observing Gwen.
“No,” Henrik said regretfully. “Do you?”
Robin gave a sigh of disappointment.
They had tried several variations of her fighting technique and his, sparring against Henrik’s shieldmates in different configurations, and nothing seemed to work. Everyone agreed that they fought very well together, seamlessly, even, but it was obvious that something was wrong with the magic end of things. Henrik was as blind to whatever power this world held as ever.
Gwen concluded her routine and bowed, then gestured Henrik to stand with her. Robin lifted off his shoulder and settled instead on the weapons rack where they could observe more safely.
“This is front stance,” Gwen told him.
Henrik mirrored her and she came behind him and corrected his position, laughing. “I’m used to much smaller students,” she told him.
Henrik looked back over his shoulder at her. “I do not think it would help if I crouched,” he said.
They walked through the first form until Henrik could do the sequence almost as smoothly as she could, and they both looked hopefully at Robin.
Robin shrugged unhelpfully, and Henrik felt disappointed. Was this for nothing?
The door to the house opened and his shieldmates pressed through in a noisy crush, carefully keeping the dogs on the other side. Their keys were with them, and Daniella was wearing her uniform.
“I’ll go jump in the shower so we can get to work,” Gwen said, looking at the time on her phone.
“Any progress with your magic?” Trey asked hopefully.
Henrik shook his head. Gwen looked as defeated as he felt. “She is an excellent teacher,” he said quickly. “We learned the first form and I can count to five in the language of Korea now.”
She flashed him a quick, grateful smile. “You’re a good student,” she countered. “I’ll be back down in a jiffy.”
Henrik braced himself at Gwen’s exit and was unsurprised to find himself the center of a great deal of amused attention.
“And how is the courtship going?” Rez wanted to know.
“It is complicated,” Henrik said gravely. “I am not sure that I understand the rules very well.”
“She likes you,” Daniella assured him. “A lot.”
“And I am very fond of her,” Henrik agreed. He steeled himself. “But I am not sure where to go from here. Can you advise me?”
Heather turned thoughtfully to Daniella. “What do you think of a date night!”
Daniella nodded eagerly. “There’s a concert in Marquette I was just thinking about trying to drag you guys to! We could make it an overnight, give them the house. Ansel’s off on a business meeting until tomorrow night.”
“That’s not a lot of time to put it together,” Heather said.
“What does a date night entail?” Henrik wanted to know.
That got him the measured look of both women.
“Do you know any poetry?” Daniella asked.
“I know the Ballad of Graycliff Battle by heart,” Henrik offered.
“I do not think that will suffice,” Trey said, shaking his head.
“What’s the Ballad of Graycliff Battle? Do I want to know?” Daniella asked.
“It is a litany of fallen warriors,” Rez said, taking down one of the practice swords. “I do not think that the lady Gwen would find it romantic.”
“There’s a re
ason that flowers and chocolates are traditional,” Heather pointed out.
“I do not have funds,” Henrik said dismally.
“I’ll take care of those,” Heather promised. “We’ll get some dinner together for you...”
“Candles!” Daniella interjected. “A candlelit dinner!”
“Yes,” Heather agreed. “And a chick flick afterwards. I’ve got just the one.”
“A feat of strength may impress her,” Trey suggested, coming up behind Daniella to lift her easily into his arms.
Daniella squealed and giggled happily, but Henrik shook his head. “She is a warrior in her own right. I do not think I have the skills to impress her in this way.”
Rez was studying Heather, his head cocked to one side. “What does the lady Gwen like best?” he asked.
That stilled them all.
“She likes video games,” Daniella suggested.
“She says she loves teaching,” Heather added. “Though she may have just been trying to make us feel less terrible as students when she’s dealing with our clumsy attempts. I have all the coordination of a drunk cow and she’s trying to make a ninja out of me.”
“You have the grace of a fall of silk,” Rez protested. “It wounds me to hear you disparage yourself.”
That led to a quick nuzzle between them and Robin cleared their throat and said scathingly, “Is this a dating club or a fighting practice?”
12
The espresso machine gave a hiss of steam and a hiccup that jerked Gwen from her daze.
“Thinking about a certain gryphon knight?” Daniella asked from behind her.
Gwen groaned. “Is it that obvious?” she asked, flashing Daniella a wry smile over her shoulder and reaching for the bottle of syrup.
“It’s familiar,” Daniella said kindly. “I know what you’re going through, remember?”
“It’s terrible,” Gwen complained.
“Is it?” Daniella prodded.
Gwen had to smile helplessly, thinking about holding Henrik’s hand, about watching him enthusiastically discover all the wonders of their world that she’d never even thought about. “No, it’s really not. Not most of it. It’s just...I’m not used to dating and the weight of destiny and stuff.” Her smile faded. “And...”
“And?”
Gwen sighed. “What if I’m not actually his key?”
Daniella gave her a look of sympathy. “Just because you haven’t figured out how to tap into the magic yet...”
“What if we never do?” Gwen could hear the panic in her own voice and she stopped herself from pouring too much syrup into the drink just in time. “Robin would be the first to tell you that their own magic runs weirdly here, and I can tell that they have...doubts. What if I wasn’t the key they were looking for? What if Henrik’s key was that chick in the apartment next to mine and this is all just a big misunderstanding because of a ten foot error?”
Daniella’s smile was warm and understanding. “You know better,” she said confidently. “You have a connection!”
“How much of that is just wanting a connection so badly?” Gwen asked her, feeling a little like she was going to fly apart inside. “This isn’t just about a romance, this is the pending end of the world.”
“Can the end of the world wait until I get my latte?” a cross voice asked.
Gwen and Daniella turned to find a customer at the counter, looking impatient.
Gwen cleared her throat. “Ah, uh sorry,” she said with a sheepish chuckle. “Just...uh...small talk.” She put the cap on the to-go cup and handed it over the counter. “Sorry for the delay.”
She was rewarded with a skeptical look and a slow nod before the customer left, making the bell by the door tinkle merrily.
“Well, I was able to get last-minute tickets to a concert in Marquette tonight, so I’m taking Heather and our guys on an overnight adventure. You and Henrik can have the house to yourselves and...just see where things go.” Daniella looked as pleased as a cat with a bowl of cream.
Gwen looked around to make sure no one else was in earshot this time and asked quietly, “Do you think that sex would fix things?”
Daniella giggled and flushed. “I don’t know,” she said frankly. “I mean, Trey and I had...ahem…well before we figured out how to tap the magic. Before we even knew what a key was. I don’t think that’s really the point. I mean, it’s great, don’t get me wrong. But the real magic is something bigger, something that’s not just physical. It’s this...” She fluttered her hand. “Soul connection. This deep contentment. It’s the same feeling I get when I can sing just the right note. Like...triumph.”
Gwen stared at her in consternation.
“Do you ever get that, when you’re fighting?” Daniella asked. “Like this feeling of everything falling into exactly the right place?”
Gwen’s silence was probably answer enough.
“You’re really good at it,” Daniella said encouragingly.
“It’s a thing I can do,” Gwen said helplessly. “I’ve trained really hard, but I’ve never been passionate about it like you are at singing. I’ve never been passionate about anything. Maybe...maybe that part of me is just broken.”
To her surprise, Daniella stepped forward and enfolded her in a warm hug. “You’re going to do fine,” she promised. “Everything will work out exactly how it should.”
“Order up!” Marie called from the kitchen.
Daniella let go of Gwen and stepped back with a kind smile. “You got this,” she said cheerfully. “We still have time.”
But Gwen could use a calendar, too, and she knew that the days were flipping past entirely too fast.
13
“So,” Gwen said, finishing the last of her food. “Do you like Italian?”
Henrik tried to decide what the word meant. “I like this,” he finally offered. “It is very...creamy.”
There were candles on the table, for some reason, and the far superior overhead lights were turned off. He had to squint at his strange food. Trey was correct, at least, that noodles were delectable. The flavored toast was a fine accompaniment.
Gwen had seemed pleased by the gifts of chocolate sweets and flowers that Heather had selected, and she laughed with Henrik when he explained why he would not be reciting poetry to her.
But if the meal was meant to be romantic, he feared it had failed.
His conversation over the meal with Gwen wasn’t the easy dialogue of their road trip. Both of them seemed aware of the expectations weighing on them. They ate efficiently, talking about pets and weather and food in awkward turn. Henrik wasn’t sure that a recitation of the fallen of Graycliff wouldn’t have been an improvement.
After the meal, and a dessert that was rich and chocolatey and stuck on Henrik’s tongue in a way that wasn’t entirely comfortable, they rose and took their dishes to the kitchen. Gwen showed him how to load the dishwasher, a task that none of the others had trusted him with. The ice maker made its loud crashing noise, and Henrik barely noticed it. It was such a strange world, and its strange noises were becoming normal.
They returned to the dining room for the last dishes, and Gwen turned on the overhead light and blew out the candles.
At the end of the table was what Henrik had assumed was a thin, plastic book, but the better light revealed it to be a movie disc in its book-like cover. There was a smiling blonde couple on the front looking sidelong at each other, with a dog sitting between them. There was a castle in the background.
Gwen picked up the movie and groaned. “Look, this...isn’t me. I mean, I know I’m supposed to be your perfect key, but this romantic crap, this really isn’t my style. Our friends mean well, but this is just...”
“...Awkward,” Henrik finished for her.
“Henrik,” she said, just as he said, “Gwen…”
They stared at each other a moment.
Then he smiled at her. “You made a mighty quest for Sault Saint Marie, but you have not yet played the game you purc
hased there. I thought you might like to, if you are not interested in the flick of chick that Heather selected for you.”
Her face softened into a surprised smile. “It’s a one-player game,” she said regretfully. “It would probably be really boring to watch, and completely defeat the purpose of date night.” Then she added hopefully, “Do you want me to teach you how to play Zombie Killer Crew, instead?”
“This is a combat game?” Henrik said hopefully.
“Two-player,” Gwen said enthusiastically. “It’s really fun, and I bet you’ll be good at it. No one else will play it with me anymore, but I’ll go easy on you.”
He followed her to the media room, a windowless chamber with equipment even more arcane than the kitchen. Ansel had forbidden the knights to touch anything in the room. Gwen busied herself setting up the giant screen and finding controls. Henrik tried not to gaze rapturously at her ass as she bent over to riffle through a drawer.
They sat on the couch close together and Gwen showed him what each of the parts of the controller did. The earlier discomfort dissipated before her enthusiasm.
“This is the joystick,” she explained. “You don’t have to tilt the controller itself, just move this little bit in the middle. See your guy move when you do that? Up there, on the screen…”
It was surreal, watching his avatar move with the commands at his hand, and the images were garish and the noise was intense. Sometimes there were explosions that sounded like they were behind him. He ran into walls a great deal, and got excited about finding tools.
“It’s easy to tell the bad guys,” Gwen pointed out. “The angry ones that amble are the ones you want to kill. We’ll start with clubs, but we’ll find something better as we level up.”
“Level up?” Henrik repeated.
“It’s...like a benchmark of your progress. As you get comfortable with the game, it gets harder, and your avatar gets stronger. You go up in levels.”
Some of the jokes that his shieldmates had made began to make sense. Joystick, which was a terribly obvious double entendre. Levels.