Midnight Soul

by Kristen Ashley

  Noc, are you there?

  His eyes shot open and he sat straight up. He looked around the room that had no furniture (except that bed) but still, with the patterned metal mirrors and weave work adorning the walls and other shit like that, it kicked ass.

  The moonlight shone through the opened windows and he saw nothing.

  Noc?

  Fuck, that was Franka’s voice.

  “Frannie?” he called into the empty room.

  You’re there.

  He didn’t know where her voice was coming from, his head or disembodied in the room.

  He also didn’t give a shit.

  It was just fucking great to hear her voice.

  “I see you’ve learned some wielding,” he remarked.

  Her voice held humor when she replied, If it would not take great magic, I’d be standing by your bed.

  He would not mind that at all.

  Months had passed. Her lover was not freshly dead. She was no longer in the throes of grief. Her parents had not just been discovered to be the fuckwads they were and Franka was not trying to find ways to cope with the massive changes that meant, healing from mental wounds as well as the physical ones her father had unleashed.

  It was time they had a conversation.

  Though, he’d wait until he had her on his turf and not do it when she was somewhere else and just coming to him in his head (or whatever).

  I have a new nephew, she shared.

  “Fuckin’ hell, baby, that’s awesome,” he said as he laid back in bed and crossed his hands behind his head.

  It is, she agreed.

  “Everyone good?” he asked.

  Yes. The baby is healthy, loud and robust. Quite heavy, he gave Brikitta a tough time, but she persevered. He’s also quite long, so he, too, will be tall like his father. A full head of hair. All his fingers. All his toes. Brikitta is tired but she’s got plenty of people around to look after the child so she can get some rest. I nearly had to cast a spell on Josette to make her forget for a time we had a newborn in our midst. She quite fell in love.

  He thought of her and the frequent time she spent with Tim.

  “And I’m sure you’re not interested at all,” he teased.

  They’ve named him Frantz.

  Even, however she was coming to him, he could hear the emotion thickening her voice.

  “Baby,” he whispered.

  He said no more, giving her a minute to pull her shit together because that was Franka. She wasn’t about falling apart.

  She took that minute and said in a crisp voice (total Franka, bullshitting to cover), He’s quite handsome.

  “Babies aren’t handsome, sugarlips, they’re cute.”

  I thought you said I was cute.

  “You are. Babies are a different kind of cute.”

  And baby is what you often call me.

  He chuckled.

  There are parts of your patois that are very clever. There are parts that make no sense. She paused before she finished, And now, after I take a week or so to get to know my new nephew, be certain Brikitta is well and recovering, and sort out Josette and I, I’ll learn much more.

  “Yeah, you will,” he agreed.

  Are you…?

  He waited for her to finish but she didn’t.

  He turned to his side, wrapping a hand around his pillow and using both arms to curl it closer.

  Like it was a woman.

  Like Franka was there.

  Fuck he hoped the saying was right that time healed all wounds.

  If it didn’t, he’d wait for her to heal. He’d help her do it.

  But he’d also be right fucking there if she was.

  “I’m ready when you are, babe. Korwahk is fuckin’ nutty. I dig it to visit and explore, but I’m not sure how Circe made the decision to live here forever. Interesting. But still fucked up. Knew she loved Lahn in a big way. Now I know the woman loves her husband seriously ’cause she’s not only cool livin’ here, she’s totally in her element. It’s like she’s lived here all her life.”

  I would like the opportunity one day to witness her in her element.

  “We’ll figure that out. First, next time you see Valentine, let her know we’re good to go and have her get in touch with me so I know when that’s gonna happen. I’m good to go too but that doesn’t mean I want green smoke to surround me and suddenly be gone before I say goodbye.”

  I’ll be certain she forewarns you.

  “Thanks, Frannie.”

  And I must go. It’s late here and I wish to check in once more with Kristian and Brikitta before I’m abed.

  “Right, sweetheart. Glad you floated into my consciousness and gave me the good news.”

  I’m not in your consciousness, Noc, she informed him snootily, I’m gliding on an astral plane, though without my body. I’ve simply tuned in to your plane. You have my conscious as I’m in a trance. But I don’t have yours.

  “You do know that makes no fuckin’ sense whatsoever,” he stated.

  I’ll explain it more thoroughly over pizza.

  Fuck yeah, she would.

  “Right, go to bed, baby. And see you soon.”

  Yes, Noc. Soon. Sleep well.

  “You too, Frannie. Later.”

  Uh…well, um…later.

  He grinned and could actually feel it when he lost her.

  Kristian had named his kid Frantz.

  Noc liked the guy. Now he liked him more.

  He drew the pillow closer and closed his eyes.

  A week or so.

  Then he’d finally be home.

  And so would Frannie.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Welcome Home

  Franka

  “By the gods! Look at your garments!”

  I whirled from the window, twisting my ankle as I did so and nearly crashing to the floor.

  Just managing to prevent myself from doing something that incredibly mortifying, I stood blinking rapidly as I stared at Josette who was rushing through the door.

  She was not dressed as me in preparation to be transported to our new world.

  No, Valentine had brought her something very much different.

  She was wearing trousers like Noc’s (he’d told me they were referred to as “jeans”). Up top she had on something that was frilly but skimpy. On her feet she had…

  I shook my head as I took them in.

  They were indescribable. I didn’t even know what they were made of. There was a sole that looked squishy and two straps that led from the juncture of her first and second toe along her foot, exposing the rest of it.

  And that was all.

  “They’re called flip-flops,” Valentine drawled, strolling in after Josette. “They seemed very…her.”

  Josette stopped a foot away and sprung up and down on them, saying, “They’re very comfortable. But odd. I was walking and one came right off, flying halfway down the corridor. I have to scrunch my toes to keep them on.”

  I could see this.

  However, as strange as her shoes were, in fact her whole outfit (for a woman), she had it much better than I.

  Before leaving to see to Josette, Valentine had painstakingly instructed me as I painted my face with a variety of brushes and wands, decreeing through it, “You’ll need to experiment in future, and when we’re in my world I’ll take you to an artist to share further techniques.”

  I did this utilizing what Valentine said was “makeup or cosmetics, chérie.”

  Although this took some time, and I wasn’t a complete novice (many in my world painted their faces with rouge or lip tint, powder on their eyes, kohl to line their lids, pencils to fill in brows—this happening everywhere, though it was worn especially heavy in Fleuridia), I was enchanted not only by the results but by the quality of the elements Valentine had provided. In my world, they were far more rudimentary.

  But after that, Valentine had given me some other-world undergarments (which I liked very much), as well as a swatch of materi
al and a curious metal band. She’d then glided out of the room to see to Josette and give me time to change, stating with a wave of her hand toward a box on a chair, “Those are your shoes, ma petite sorcière.”

  Examining the garment she’d given me, I realized I simply had to shrug it on like a coat. It wrapped around the front and closed not with frogs or buttons, but with a belt, the belt being the metal band.

  The material was quite soft and I could tell it was excellent quality. It was also a sumptuous cream, a color I’d never worn, but it seemed to highlight the natural olive tone of my skin, not to mention deepen the color of my hair and bring out the same in my eyes.

  All this was fine.

  What was slightly concerning was the fact that the hem was uneven. One edge of the coat-like dress hung longer than the other, which aesthetically was quite pleasing, but it still seemed to be a mistake in construction.

  This I could live with because everyone knew, if something was aesthetically pleasing, that was all that mattered.

  What was most concerning was the location of the hem, this being at my upper thigh.

  Yes.

  My upper thigh.

  Everything beyond was exposed.

  Bare.

  I could be risqué. I could even take that to extremes. In fact, there was a time I enjoyed taking it to extremes and reveling in the reactions that would get. And I had not been out in society for some months but I had a feeling that was a part of me that had not changed.

  But this was outlandish.

  Indeed, there was a good possibility that when I walked, the flaps of the short coatdress would fan out and show everything.

  A woman had to have some mystery, most assuredly. That mystery particularly.

  And this could not be so different in the other world. If that was the case, surely Valentine or Noc would have told me.

  Even generally, I was not a woman to hide her charms. Because of this, the plunging neckline of the long-sleeved dress did not concern me. And I was not a woman who had a problem with adding flair. Therefore, the peculiar belt that seemed made of shiny gold I liked quite a lot.

  But I had never in my life exposed my legs as such to anyone but a lover.

  And this did not get into the shoes.

  They were like Josette’s in the sense that they, too, were constructed of a very small number of straps (precisely, three). One across the toes that was somewhat wide. Two that came up from the sides of the heel and wrapped around my ankle, those being exceptionally dainty.

  They were also shiny gold, which was lovely.

  But the heel included a golden spike at the bottom back that was elegant to gaze upon, but it had to be at least four inches tall, therefore standing upon them forced me to my toes.

  Needless to say, walking was nigh on impossible.

  However, it explained Noc’s statement about “spiked heels” from many months before.

  Indeed it explained it literally.

  One could not deny (and I myself had admired just this in the full-length mirror) that the dress did wonderful things for my figure and the shoes did miraculous things to my legs (and bum).

  But what would Noc think of me, seeing me in such attire?

  And what would he think when I took one step toward him and fell flat on my face?

  “How are you going to walk on those shoes?” Josette cried my thoughts out loud, injecting a goodly dose of the concern I myself felt in each word.

  “Carefully,” I answered.

  “I can imagine,” Josette muttered, still staring at the shoes. “Though, they’re very pretty. But I can’t imagine other-world women walk about on them much. Instead, they must sit and have them gazed upon admiringly, don’t you think?”

  What I thought was, to get to any seat one had to walk on them. So although I very much wanted off my feet at that moment, I, and any woman wearing such footwear, was out of luck when the necessity arose to ambulate.

  “Do tell me you’ve practiced walking, Franka,” Valentine said. “We’re set to leave soon. Noc is already at your appointed meeting place, waiting.”

  My body jolted because my heart leaped so at her words I feared it had torn right out of my chest.

  “I’ve practiced,” I replied and took a step, then another to show her.

  I’d gotten quite good at balancing while standing. And I was becoming adept at slow steps.

  A natural gait would take some doing. Much longer than the time I had.

  It might take days.

  Or weeks.

  Though I would prefer to wear what I was used to, superb quality slippers, and not wear those kind of shoes at all.

  Suffice it to say, for myself and for Josette, we should have requested other-world garments and footwear some time ago so we could become accustomed to them.

  It was too late for that now.

  “Well, practice some more,” Valentine ordered. “I’m taking Josette and I’ll come back for you.”

  “What?” Josette asked on a whirl from facing me to doing the same with Valentine.

  “I beg your pardon?” I queried on narrowed eyes.

  “I’m taking Josette to my home. She can settle in. I’ll come back for you as you’ll be going somewhere else and at that somewhere else, Noc wants only you,” Valentine replied.

  Noc wanted only me.

  My belly clenched.

  “No offense, chérie,” she said to Josette. “But you’re not invited to their reunion.”

  “That’s quite all right!” Josette chirped, no longer showing concern we’d be separated upon entry to this parallel universe and turning bright eyes to me.

  “Circe is coming around to take Josette out to dinner,” Valentine carried on. “This while I finish up some of my own business here and make my final return home. Then, of course, I’ll be around should she need anything.”

  I wanted to see Noc. I wanted to see a Noc that didn’t invite Josette to our “reunion.” I missed him and had been waiting for months to see him again and now that wait was over.

  But I needed to see to Josette.

  “I think it’s best if Josette and I travel together and stay together, at least for a time,” I informed Valentine. “When we both become accustomed to getting around in our new world, then we can go off and do things alone.”

  “Nonononono,” Josette said swiftly, shaking her head in a negative to strengthen her words. “I’ll be just fine.”

  “See,” Valentine lazily swung her hand Josette’s way. “She’ll be fine.”

  I looked to Josette. “My dear, this is our adventure, and I’ll emphasize the our in that statement. It’s my responsibility to look out for you. I can’t leave you to your own devices the instant you get there.”

  “Mistress Valentine is taking care of me,” Josette replied.

  “Indeed I am, and it’s all sorted,” Valentine added, quite definite about that, and I knew she was as she lifted her hands, and without delay, the room started to turn green.

  I knew what that meant.

  I took a step toward her. “Sister, this needs to be discussed. Josette is my charge and—”

  “Practice on those heels, Franka,” Valentine cut me off to advise. “You have fifteen minutes to make certain you don’t take an embarrassing tumble the first time you see Noctorno.”

  The very thought of that arrested me and the workings of my mind for a moment before I realized the room was becoming greener and I needed to act with haste.

  I lifted my own hands, certain there was no way to beat Valentine’s magic, but I had to try…for Josette.

  “Valentine, listen to me…” I began as clouds of blue started swirling through the green.

  “I’ll be fine,” Josette promised.

  Valentine stepped closer to her.

  I ignored her. “Valentine—”

  She smiled her smile that I had perfected (back in the day).

  And then she and Josette disappeared, the green drifted away and there was not
hing but the floating clouds of blue that had no purpose for I’d called them up to beat back the green and that magic, as well as Valentine and Josette, were gone.

  I dropped my hands and the clouds vanished.

  “Blast!” I snapped, too loudly. “Blast,” I whispered, my eyes darting to the door in hopes it didn’t open.

  I’d already said my farewells to my brother, sister and nephews. These were not moments I relished, at the same time I knew I would never forget them and the warmth and love they communicated.

  But during them, Kristian and Brikitta shared they were worried about my upcoming adventure. Previously they both were all for this it, but now that the time had come, they were getting cold feet. Especially when they learned communication between worlds could be difficult.

  If Kristian heard aught amiss—say me shouting, “Blast!”—he’d come running, even more concerned, and I didn’t want to have to say farewell to him all over again.

  Once was enough.

  Noc had been right.

  Goodbyes sucked.

  It would be worse if my brother saw me in this dress.

  He might not allow me to go at all (though he’d have a time of it stopping Valentine from doing anything—the woman, I’d found, was a force of nature, literally).

  Annoyed at Valentine, but knowing she was correct, I did not want to take a tumble in front of Noc, I started walking tentatively again in those beautiful but bloody uncomfortable (and dangerous) shoes.

  I found to my distress (and some shame) that as the minutes passed and I moved around in those shoes, not only did my feet hurt more and more, but I thought less and less of Josette, what she was now experiencing and the fact I was not experiencing it with her as we both had thought we would.

  No, I thought more and more of seeing Noc again.

  With me in this dress.

  And these shoes.

  And just seeing…him.

  I shook my hands feeling my palms perspiring as I tried a faster pace, finding my footing.

  Damp palms due to fretfulness.

  Unthinkable.

  Ah, but what had happened to the Franka Drakkar I once knew?

  You do know the answer to that, Antoine noted in my head.

  I stopped dead.

  I hadn’t heard him in months. Even before Noc left me. Definitely not after.