by Nicole Field
"Yeah, I mean, obviously, but…" Avi bit down on his lower lip, worrying at it with flat teeth, then sighed. "You're actually an okay guy."
"Uh, thanks?" Keith said, taken aback.
Avi stomped over and hopped up onto the counter, crossing his legs and frowning at Keith. His eyes were still wet, his lips trembling. "No, I mean, I guess that was obvious from the start, I was just… I was a dick."
"Kinda, yeah," Lucas said, in a but-that's-none-of-my-business tone.
Grimacing, Avi shrugged. "It's just, humans don't live long at all. Dad might fall in love easily but he… really feels things hard, all the time. He's seen some shit, we all have. Everyone does if you live long enough and—I mean, I guess… sometimes if you don't. But dad's like Magari. He lives through tough times and resolves to love harder, to trust more. And humans… they live hard and fast. I thought… maybe, dad'd fall in love with someone else again and you'd get jealous and break his heart. Or, worse—"
"Worse?" Keith prompted, when Avi didn't continue.
"What if you have a good, long relationship together? What if you become such an integral part of his life that he can't imagine spending any of it without you? And then…" Avi's gaze shifted from Keith's face to Lucas's. "Then you die. You leave him even lonelier than before. Almost all human souls move on immediately, not end up ghosts like Lucas. And even if Lucas is in a relationship with dad too, you're his tether. Either you die and Lucas moves on or you die and Lucas loses himself."
Keith drew closer to Lucas, that old fear welling in him. He'd come so close to losing Lucas once already.
Lucas said, "I mean, we can't plan that—things are already weird with us both, so who knows what will happen—"
"No," Keith said, hoarsely. He pressed his hand into Lucas's. "It's still true. It's a real concern. We're going to leave him alone someday…"
Would it be better to leave him now? While things were still new? Keith hated the thought; he loved Hiraeth already, just like he loved Lucas. He wanted to be with Hiraeth, share the rest of his life with Hiraeth—but was that an unfair thought? If Hiraeth felt the same way, but had so much more 'rest of his life' to live without Keith …
Avi braced his arms on the edge of the counter, shoulders raised, head down. "Yeah, you will," he said, voice sad. And then he drew a deep breath and sighed, raising his head, looking between Lucas and Keith again. "But humans live in the here and now, right? Like Lucas said, you can't really plan for how things will end. A lot of Others find dad flighty, you know? Too human-like. Because he does his best to live in the moment, enjoy things now while he has them, instead of thinking long term. And maybe that's a good thing."
Keith felt almost dizzy with how abruptly his thoughts were pulled out of the dark rut he'd begun to find them in. "Is it?"
"Maybe we're just lying to ourselves," Avi said, "by thinking we could plan. I mean, none of us thought that Magari would end up cursed. We didn't even know what had caused it. So… maybe you all have the right idea. Anyway…" He pushed off the counter, landing on his feet and walking up to Keith to glower in his face. "I guess you have our blessing, but if you do break his heart, I'll find you and make you sorry. Even if you're dead at the time."
Keith wheezed. "Cool. That's… that's a cool thing to say."
And then—Avi laughed. It brightened his face entirely, and suddenly, the resemblance to Hiraeth was undeniable.
He held out a hand, tilted it slightly, and waited until Keith took it.
"My name's Sciamachy," he said, still smiling. "It's the one I use among Others, but I guess you're basically one of us now."
"Oh," Keith said weakly. He stared at Avi—at Sciamachy—moved and confused, still in an emotional whirlwind.
"Come upstairs," Sciamachy said. "We'll order dinner. I bet Magari's hungry after only getting to eat fish food all this time."
*~*~*
Hiraeth's studio apartment was small to begin with. It was made even smaller by cramming six people into it, even if one of them couldn't eat. Keith sat with Lucas on one side and Magari on the other—Magari had insisted; he'd spent all that time watching Keith try to help him, he said, and he hadn't expected to come out of this with a new friend, but it was really rad.
It did mean that Keith didn't get to sit next to Hiraeth, but Hiraeth didn't seem to mind, sitting between his son and Pertu, one leg stretched out casually so his toes rested lightly on Keith's leg.
There was no sign on Magari's face of the dangerous, sharp-edged smile that Keith had seen in his mindscape, just bright, silly grins that Sciamachy teased him for and Pertu returned with growing soppiness.
And it was fine, anyway, Keith decided, if Magari could be dangerous. Maybe, if you were the sort who wanted to please others, it was important to be able to be dangerous when you needed to be. It certainly wasn't dampening his feelings of warmth, of belonging, of feeling like somehow, this group that had kept him on the outside had suddenly welcomed him in.
The rest of his life… he couldn't help but think about it. Sciamachy was right, and they had to live in the moment, but that didn't mean he couldn't try to make it as good as possible for as long as possible. He couldn't solve mortality, but so long as Hiraeth wanted to be here, Keith wanted him here. Just like he wanted Lucas here so long as Lucas was all right with not being put to rest.
If any of that changed, he'd support that. But he wouldn't do anything to change it himself.
"Hiraeth?" he asked, interrupting Magari's ramble about how he never wanted to see another plastic treasure chest again in his life.
Hiraeth's toes squirmed against his leg. "M'love?"
"What are you doing tomorrow?"
*~*~*
Some things, he knew he couldn't change. Not yet, anyway, not all at once.
"Ready?" Lucas asked him.
Keith opened his eyes, stretching, getting up from his bed at his parents' house. "Yeah. He'll be here any minute."
He wished he could do more. Shaunee knew; he was glad of that. Lucas would have some family again. But Keith's own parents had reason to resist; he wasn't sure he even could show Lucas to them, not when they already believed so thoroughly that whatever Keith had seen was his own guilt made manifest. Even if he tried to put his vision on them, he suspected they might deflect it or that, even if he succeeded, they would explain it away after.
At least, they would right now.
But slowly, over time, things might change. One bit at a time. Maybe, as stranger things happened in his life, Keith would be able to share some things with them. Maybe, as he let them see some of his new normal, they'd grow more and more open to it, a little bit at a time.
Maybe someday they'd understand.
"There you are, Keith," his mother called cheerily as he came downstairs. She was cooking what was sure to be a deeply bland vegetarian dish. "I'm so glad your friend agreed to come."
"Mom, he's—"
A knock at the door. Keith's heart skipped into overdrive, and for a moment, his feet froze.
"Well? Going to get the door?" his dad asked, teasing.
He unstuck his feet, striding to the door and opening it. There Hiraeth was: uncanny and strange, with his fuzzy velvet antlers that Keith's parents couldn't see. He beamed in through the door, holding out a bottle of wine. "So lovely to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Marose," he said, charm turned up all the way. "I'm Henry!"
One thing at a time. "He's my boyfriend," Keith said airlessly.
For a moment, he could hear a pin drop. He wasn't sure his heart was still beating at all.
"You should have told me!" his mother yelped. "I was making friend dinner, not boyfriend dinner! You're the worst!"
Keith's dad burst into laughter, taking the wine from Hiraeth. "Oh, a lovely vintage. Come on in!"
Keith's heart started beating again as Hiraeth stepped in. Lucas, beside him, gave a thumb's up, grinning hugely. There was so much still hidden between him and his family, from Hiraeth's name to Lucas himself.
> But one step at a time, one day at a time, one moment at a time. It was the only way to live.
And who knew what the future might bring?
For more adventures with Keith, Hiraeth, and Lucas,
check out Empty Vessels
Heart & Parcel
AVELINE REYNARD
Obviously this is for my wife, Meredith Katz, who has dedicated all of her works to me for years. Now it's finally my turn, because she helped me get here, and never stops encouraging me to tell my stories.
Lucie
Dusk had fallen, but the market was still twice as busy as it ought to be. Vivid paper lanterns were strung between stalls, illuminating the area brightly, and buskers on every other street corner were positioned too closely together, creating a cacophony of sound.
It was giving Lucie a headache.
"I thought there was still a week until the festival," she mumbled to one of the market vendors, balancing her stack of books as she squeezed between two brightly-dressed elves and hastily rummaged around in one pocket for some copper pieces.
The vendor laughed, handing Lucie a paper-wrapped packet (salt, a sprig of fresh sage), two candles, some spools of thread, and her change. "Just three days," she said with a wink. "And it's only going to get busier from here."
Every year, the royal family of Vie hosted a festival, a vast, grandiose affair where thousands from all the neighbouring kingdoms flocked to the capital for a night of revelry on the solstice. This year, even the citizens of Pavra were invited; the two countries had very recently reached a long-awaited peace accord, and although unceremoniously snubbing the Pavrans wasn't entirely likely to spark another hundred-year war, it certainly wouldn't do anybody any favors.
Lucie cared little about the politics and even less about the festival itself. She didn't like crowds, and would much rather have been comfortably at home with a spellbook, her cat and a cup of tea.
With a resigned sigh, she slipped her purchases into a pocket of her voluminous coat and bid a hasty retreat, hurrying along down the road towards the residential district. By the time she finally reached her doorstep, her feet hurt and her arms ached, and she couldn't quite comfortably balance her stack of books in one arm while trying to fish around for her key.
Where did I put it now? she thought. It was surely in the right outer pocket, the one with the large brass button. Or perhaps she'd put it in the skirt pocket this time? Or was it the upper breast pocket inside? No, that one had a hole in it that she hadn't remembered to sew up—
Lost in her thoughts, Lucie didn't notice another person's approach until the pressure in her arms abruptly lessened, nearly pitching her forward from the sudden lack of weight. She looked sharply to the right, then to the left, then up, to find an elf—over six feet tall, with long gold hair, pointed ears, and well-defined biceps—leaning over her, carefully stacking Lucie's books into their own arms.
They offered Lucie a little smile, books balanced easily under one arm. "Need a hand?"
"Oh," Lucie said, with a long exhalation, pushing her spectacles up with her now-free hand. "Fen! I didn't see y—"
An envelope abruptly appeared, inches away from Lucie's nose. Startled, she began to tip backwards away from it, stumbled, and nearly lost her balance. Thankfully, Fen was quicker, catching Lucie neatly around the waist and bracing her as easily as one might heft a cat.
Suri, the prettiest woman in all of Vie—in Lucie's admittedly biased opinion—stood there with her round cheeks still dimpled in a grin. Her dark sleek hair was pinned back in a flawless knot and fastened with a sunny yellow flower that matched the draped layers of her patterned shawl.
She seemed to consider the situation for a moment, glancing back and forth between Fen and Lucie, the envelope still clutched tightly in one hand. Apparently finding this all to be acceptable, she wiggled the envelope for emphasis and chirped: "Good evening, Lucie, my love! I've come to invite you to the royal masquerade."
A large cart rattled noisily by. Overhead, one of the crows perched in the second-storey window of Lucie's cottage let out a raucous caw.
Lucie stared at Suri, mind blank with incomprehension. "Come again?"
"The festival," Suri repeated. "Darling, you know… dressing up in your finest, gathering to watch the fireworks, exploring the market, and then at night, the masks, the dancing…" She had an ever-so-slightly worried expression on her face, as though genuinely concerned that Lucie might have lived in the capital city of Vie for half a decade and somehow missed this enormous event entirely.
"No, I do know… what it is," Lucie protested faintly. "But why would I want to go to the masquerade?" She dug her heels into the gaps in the cobblestones, trying to lever herself upright, then gave up, sagging back into Fen's patient grip. "It's noisy. I have to study. You have tests to prepare for, too!" They'd met at the university, after all—Lucie aiming to become a healer-physician, Suri learning about the law.
Suri exchanged a glance with Fen, then looked back at Lucie. "Well…" she said slowly. "We've been seeing each other for nearly a year now. And I've told my parents so much about you. I thought you'd finally like a chance to meet them."
"Oh," Lucie said, feeling a bit of heat rush to her cheeks. "I—I hadn't really thought about that, I'm sorry. I don't—it's just me, you know, so I sort of forgot that other people have… parents… oh, they'll be at the festival, then?" she blurted, then bit her tongue, flushing more.
Fen finally hefted Lucie straight up, setting her back down on her feet. After a moment, they reached out to unhook Lucie's house key from where Lucie had fastened it into a loop on her belt. Lucie accepted it gratefully, then fumbled to put the key in the lock so she didn't have to look at either of them.
Suri didn't seem to notice, or at least, didn't seem to care about Lucie putting her foot in her mouth. She stepped a little closer, butting her head lightly against Lucie's shoulder. "Of course my parents will be there," she said fondly, letting out a laugh. "They're in charge of it."
Lucie got the door unlocked, putting her foot in the open doorway to stop her cat, Marigold, from dashing out. "In charge?" she echoed absently. As expected, she felt a small furry head bonk against her shoe immediately and heard a raspy maow of protest.
When neither Suri nor Fen answered immediately, she glanced back at them, confused. Suri had one hand pressed over her mouth. Fen's expression was as placid as always, but eventually they let out a heavy sigh.
"Lucie," Fen said, in a soft, measured tone, "you… do know that Suri's the princess, right?"
Lucie had not known this. She dropped her key with a clang, then turned back to stare at the door for a moment. Slowly, she looked down at where the key lay in the dirt.
Marigold carefully extended one paw to pat at it.
"Oh," said Suri, as Lucie's silence grew. She sounded about as shocked as Lucie felt. "Fen. I don't think she knew."
Lucie heard Fen sigh, then felt one of their hands lightly press at the small of Lucie's back, nudging her inside. "At the risk of being rude by inviting myself in, this sounds like something we may want to talk about over tea," Fen said.
"Of course," Lucie said automatically, ducking down to scoop Marigold up and beelining for the kitchen.
I'm dating the princess, she thought. I'm a witch dating a princess and she has no idea.
And, because she couldn't think of anything else she could possibly do, she went to put the kettle on.
Foxglove
"… You really didn't know?"
It was just after midnight. Suri and Fen had left a few hours earlier, which meant that it was safe for Foxglove to appear, as he did most nights after dark.
He reclined comfortably on Lucie's bed, watching her fret and fuss at the plants on the windowsill. As usual, they responded eagerly to her touch, twining around her fingertips. But they seemed to be reacting to the anxiety in her magic today, too; one of the flowers had folded its petals closed, and another had all its vines wriggling like tiny, agit
ated tentacles.
If Lucie weren't so genuinely frazzled, Foxglove would have found it pretty hilarious. Lucie's dark brown hair had exploded in dizzy curls out around her pointed ears, and she'd compulsively tugged so many threads free from the edge of her skirt that Marigold was aggressively tagging her ankles as she left the window and started to pace again.
But Lucie was Foxglove's best friend—his only friend—and as much as he might tease her for her moments of absentmindness and her tendency to do things like leave her shoes in the icebox and lose her glasses in her own hair, this was a little beyond the pale.
"How was I supposed to know?" Lucie wailed softly, tossing her hands up in the air and collapsing onto the bed with a whumph. Foxglove uncoiled his spade-tipped tail from around his feet and shifted further towards the headboard to make more room for her. "We met at school! I don't talk about my family so I never asked about hers. She never said anything!"
"I guess she assumed you knew. Everyone knows, unless they live under a rock," Foxglove said cheerfully. "Though I guess she also never realized she was courting a woman who lives under said rock, so that's on her, probably."
Lucie looked up at him accusingly, one baleful gray eye visible through her curls. "I don't live under a rock," she mumbled. "And if I do, you're down here with me. You didn't mention anything."
"I never got a good look at her," Foxglove said defensively. "We've never been introduced because you haven't told her about… things. Remember?"
At that, Lucie's expression genuinely grew distraught, and she buried her face in the mattress. Foxglove immediately felt a spike of guilt, rolling over and stretching out next to her, making a low little sound. "Aw, no, Lu…"
"I was planning on telling her that I'm a witch. Sooner or later…" Lucie mumbled. "Some people in Vie are fine with it these days, right? It just kept on not being the right time."
Foxglove really couldn't hold that against her. As a country that relied heavily on trade between neighbouring countries, Vie was pretty open-minded—big on multiculturalism and acceptance, with elves and halflings, humans and half-breeds, and even the occasional dragon all living together like it was the most natural thing in the world.