Happiness in Numbers

by Nicole Field

  "No," John corrected, "not tonight. Maybe in a day or two. You're recovering. How do you feel about bookshelves? Big ones."

  "You're recovering as well," Holly grumbled, kicking him, but lightly. "I appreciate bookshelves. Which you know. Was that a general question about furniture preferences, or did you have something specific in mind?"

  "Thinking about putting more in here," Ryan informed him, catching that foot and trapping it under his own. "We'll need more. If you're moving in."

  "If I—" Holly went quiet, lying between them, turning that huge gaze from Ryan to John and back. That unremoved smudge of eyeliner—more smudged now, Ryan noticed with satisfaction—lingered, highlighting his left eye.

  "We want you to," John said. "It's time. And you said yourself there's not anything big on the horizon, nothing we need you to infiltrate, and—"

  "But I'm helping!" Holly's voice cracked; not in a good way. "I've—am I not, has it not been—is it not enough, I can do more, I can be more useful—"

  "You can," Ryan interrupted, hand finding his wrist, encircling it, squeezing. "You've done a lot. So much. Seriously. You stopped Code Blue that time, you sent us to Moon Labs before the break-in happened, tonight you told us about Blade's plans for Tim—"

  "But you want me to stop!"

  "We want you here with us," John said.

  Holly looked at his face, at the emotion laid bare and raw, and stopped talking.

  "We want you here," John said again. "You—it's not just about you. Or it is but not like that. This is—we're dying a little bit every day you go in there, kid, and tonight you came out hurt, and we can't—it's not worth that. It's not."

  "It's not like you're going to stop being useful," Ryan said. "You're going to be useful with us. Right next to us. In the open. We can tell the world. Holiday Jones the hero."

  "But," Holly pleaded, "I'm not."

  "Yes you are!" Ryan and John retorted simultaneously.

  Holly blinked at them twice, and then a third time: astonished by this upside-down view of himself. He said nothing.

  "So there," John said, as if this were final.

  "But I didn't even argue with you!" Holly protested. "I mean… not this time."

  Ryan raised eyebrows at him. "You're saving it for next time?"

  "Yes, probably!" Holly said, which was somehow simultaneously truthful and wistfully self-aware and hilarious; they had to kiss him more for that, an interruption

  "I'm not," Holly went on once allowed, not a protest but a wish having to do with the world's perception, with his own perception, "but… I could be? If you think… I mean, am I? A—a hero? One of you."

  "You're always one of us," John agreed, wrapping them both up into long arms. "But you're a hero too. The best of us. Like we said earlier."

  "Also you can finally meet my parents," Ryan pointed out. "They'll adore you. My dad'll ask you all kinds of questions about quantum physics and your mystic portals. My mom will restock our infirmary with whatever she decides your particular needs are. Like she did for John. And they'll both say you're too thin and try to feed you your body weight in soup. I'm warning you now."

  "I… might not mind soup?" Holly said, cautious as hope, as a daydream of family.

  John's stomach made a noise.

  "Super-soldiers and your damn appetites," Ryan said in mock annoyance, "now's not the time," and tried to figure out how to kick John without disturbing Holly.

  "I can't help it! We were talking about food!"

  "I like your… appetites," Holly offered, eyes dancing, suspiciously damp at the edges again. "And—and I do like bookshelves. Big ones. If I'm officially moving in."

  John burst out laughing, and kissed him. And then leaned over him to pull Ryan into all the kissing too. "More food in a few minutes. Cuddling first. Both of you."

  "No arguments here," Ryan said, freeing a piece of Holly's hair from his mouth, "as long as you're both okay. Do either of you need anything? Water, healing salve, a new set of lungs?"

  John made a face at him. "I'll be fine tomorrow!"

  "Tomorrow's not now. What did I say about calling my mother? I meant it."

  "We're fine," Holly said softly, "and we'll be fine tomorrow, too. I mean—I think we are. All of us. Together. Whatever happens now. I love you both."

  "We love you." Ryan draped a leg over his. Let certainty stretch out and fill up the room: yes, this, a future. Painted in lightning and magic, roses and rain. "Rest, you two."

  "Ten minutes," John said. "And then we should have food. And clean up. And make sure you, kid, stay hydrated and warm."

  "Yes, please," Holly said, and yawned once more, safe and sound between them.

  The bedroom got extra-cozy, sated and satisfied. In ten minutes they'd get up and find food and take care of Holly and each other some more; they'd hold each other and trade kisses and make plans for bringing Holly's books and focus-stone artifacts and elaborate mystic robes to Clifftop, across upcoming days and weeks. They'd work out new training routines and strategies, the three of them coordinating in the field; they'd have to explain Holly's apparent changing of sides to other heroes, and face what'd be some very angry, much-betrayed Masters of Terror.

  Nothing they couldn't handle, Ryan thought, breathing in yet another stray bit of Holly's hair, sticking his face into dark waves. Nothing the three of them couldn't handle.

  Maybe they'd even plant John's garden when they got a chance. They could watch zucchini grow or, in Holly's case, poke it with magic.

  He said, to the night and the bedroom and his partners, "I was thinking."

  "Hmm?" John at least was awake; Holly was too, a second later, a sleepy rumpled black-haired kitten with big hazel eyes. "About food? There's also chocolate ice cream."

  "No," Ryan said. "I mean, yeah, sure, totally in favor of dessert foods, we should feed Holly something sweet, but. My name."

  "Huh? Oh—Beacon. Right. You weren't sure. Said it sounded like a lighthouse. Any other ideas?"

  "Actually," Ryan said, "I was thinking I don't mind lighthouses, they guide people home, that's not a bad thing. Coming home. Maybe I'll, y'know. Keep this one."

  "Oh," John said. "Oh. You—yes. Yeah, it's—I kind of like it too."

  Holly's eyes sparkled.

  "We'll see," Ryan said. His toes were warm, brushing John's calf; his body was warm, curved around Holly's, both of them under John's arm. "But… yeah. I'll hang on to it for a while. I like how it sounds."

  Shoots in the Trellis

  OLIVIA SITTER

  To my partner in crime, Michael

  The wards Dain'la placed flashed a warning. Klimeau's ears pricked up, and he shook Letycja's shoulder until she awoke.

  "We have to move," he hissed.

  Dain'la was already packing her sleeping roll, and didn't bother to avoid stepping on Helva who jolted out of sleep into a fighting stance.

  "Quickly," Dain'la said, shoving Letycja's sleeping roll into her bag as soon as she wriggled out of it. Within minutes they were packed and slinking away into the night.

  Klimeau scouted ahead while Dain'la flung nervous glances behind, casting a spell to sweep away their tracks from their pursuers. Letycja puffed along, her black braid bouncing down her back, Helva beside her carrying both of their packs. Shouts in the distance startled the group into a jog as the New Gevdin soldiers found their campsite.

  Despite Dain'la's efforts to conceal their flight, soldiers caught up to them with the help of a prowling cougar-hound. "The bastards cut the dark elf loose!" one soldier called, before the aforementioned dark elf, Dain'la, hurled a sparking ball of lighting his way. No longer the soldiers' prisoner of war, Dain'la's hands were free for casting spells. She set her mouth in a grim line, eyes narrowed as she swung her staff towards her former captors.

  "Traitor!" Captain Yvonne charged the group, blocking another magic attack from Dain'la. In one motion, Helva threw the packs behind xer and drew xer sword, intercepting the captain with xer small fr
ame. Instead of being thrown aside at the force, xie used Yvonne's momentum to sidestep and trip her.

  "Nothing personal," xie said, cheerfully, slicing through the straps of her armor. When Captain Yvonne stood, her breastplate fell to the forest floor. A soldier leaped at Helva, mace ready to crush xer head in. One of Dain'la's wards fizzled as it took the full force, and Helva spun away, laughing as xie caught another soldier by surprise, slashing his exposed knee-backs.

  "Your aim is much improved," Klimeau called to Helva, dropping from the branches above to land on the shoulders of the soldier with the mace. The two collapsed in a tangle. With his bladed hook, Klimeau dug into the underside of her wrist. When he twisted, she screamed and bucked him off. "Though your attack was too shallow. I don't think you severed his tendons."

  Helva, engaged with Yvonne and another soldier, laughed as one of his greaves flopped forward off his shin and tripped him.

  "I wasn't going for tendons!" xie said. Xie dodged a blow from Captain Yvonne and delivered a decisive jab to her couter, denting the metal and hitting her elbow with a clang. She dropped her sword as her arm went fuzzy and Helva grabbed her sheath, swinging around to throw her off balance again.

  A ball of lightning connected with the de-greaved soldier and sent him sprawling.

  "Cocky. They only sent three to fetch us?" Dain'la said as Klimeau casually snapped the soldier's Achilles tendon with his hook. An arrow grazed Klimeau's ear and he and Dain'la turned to see the shaking cougar handler with a bow in hand. The cougar-hound looked on in boredom, leashed to the archer. Dain'la raised a white eyebrow in the archer's direction. "Let me amend: four."

  Helva cut the sheath from Yvonne's belt mid swing to send her sprawling. Xie retrieved the sword, sheathed it, and flung it back towards their packs and Letycja. Letycja tethered the sword to a pack, worriedly glancing at her lovers in battle. Helva, as per usual, was having the time of xer life, bouncing around the captain without a care.

  Dain'la was about to hurl a spell at the archer when Klimeau grabbed her arm. "Not with the cougar there!"

  An arrow lodged in Klimeau's good arm.

  Letycja screamed and Dain'la growled, glaring at the cougar-hound handler.

  In the confusion, Yvonne lost Helva and was panting, turning in circles in search of xer. Xie popped up beside the handler and sliced through the bowstring. Then, pushing the archer to the ground, xie took the leash.

  Having caught sight of her quarry, the captain set off once more towards Helva, but Klimeau kicked her feet out from under her. Helva took the opportunity to remove the collar from the cougar-hound and give it a pat between its floppy ears, while Dain'la thwacked Captain Yvonne in the head with her staff.

  Helva snatched the archer's bow and snapped it for good measure. "We'll cross the border and then you can stop worrying about us," xie said, sticking the pieces through xer belt. "You should concern yourself with your comrades. One's going to have trouble walking, and the other won't be able to hold her mace. Oh, and your cougar-hound friend might get hungry."

  Beside them, the cougar-hound growled. Or purred. It was hard to tell.

  *~*~*

  Vinnsdale was a sizable border village, a resting stop for traders and merchants traveling between the countries of Soldari and Gevdin. Recent years had not been kind to Vinnsdale, what with the civil war in Gevdin halting traffic across the border. Once prosperous inns and way stations were struggling to stay open. Several smaller establishments were boarded up, their owners working for the larger businesses to keep food on the table.

  The quartet emerged not from the main road, but from the forest. It wasn't uncommon for people to trickle in from the woods, bedraggled and half starved. Villagers watched their approach with wary eyes, not keen on another set of penniless refugees. Two of their party wore their hoods to cloak their faces despite the sun; the other two were unmistakably a human and a halfling.

  The human raised an arm in greeting, xer armor glinting. "Hello! Sorry for traipsing out of the woods like that," Helva said. Xie shifted the two packs on xer back as they approached, the local guard eyeing the sword at xer hip.

  "I'll be blunt," the guard said, not relaxing his stance. His gaze traveled downwards to the halfling, Letycja, with her round proportions and sharp black eyes. "Travelers like you come in the dozens. We can't support you without pay."

  "You're in luck," Helva said. "We've an assortment of coins from the United Gevdin and New Gevdin factions. Gold all melts down the same, yes?"

  The guard scowled but nodded them on. Gold was gold and, as long as the villagers didn't ask where the metal came from, they could keep a clear conscience.

  The Dozing Dragon Inn and Tavern was two stories of rooms with a sizable stable and a sign advertising a free breakfast with the purchase of a night's stay.

  At the desk, Helva dropped xer packs with a sigh and greeted the innkeep. "We'd like one room with two beds, or two rooms please."

  The innkeep crossed her arms and said, "You pay per bed, and there's four of you."

  Letycja looked up at Helva and gave a shrug. Helva nodded. "Two beds, then," xie said.

  "There's four of you," the inkeep repeated.

  "We don't mind sharing," Letycja said, standing on tiptoes to see over the counter and gave the woman a winning smile.

  "The beds're small."

  "That's fine," Letycja said, indicating her small stature. The top of her head barely reached Helva's waist, and compared to Klimeau and Dain'la, Helva was a full head shorter than both of them. Letycja would fit comfortably in one bed with Helva, her newest partner.

  "Only one breakfast per bed," the innkeep said, her scowl deepening.

  "How much for breakfast on its own?" Helva asked, working out a kink in xer shoulder.

  "Same as a bed."

  "Now, that doesn't make sense," Klimeau said. Dain'la silently entwined her dusky fingers with Klimeau's furred and clawed digits and squeezed before he could argue.

  Helva shrugged. "We'll share. Two beds, please."

  The woman stared at Dain'la and Klimeau's clasped hands. Her nose wrinkled almost imperceptibly as she peered up at their faces shadowed by hoods. Dain'la attempted a smile to put her at ease, but Dain'la's white teeth seemed to glimmer like fangs in the gloom, and Klimeau's own smile literally bared his fangs.

  "There's an extra fee for catfolk," the woman said, a stubborn quaver in her voice. "For fur cleanup. And the dark elf gets a separate room. Three beds plus the fee." There was a finality in her offer, and her glare swept over the group.

  Undeterred, Helva pushed harder. "Why a separate room for dark elves?"

  Dain'la rested her other hand on Helva's back in silent warning; she knew where the conversation was heading, and hoped Helva wouldn't escalate it further.

  "Her kind gets different lodging," the innkeep said. "Keeps the dirt at bay."

  Helva stared at the innkeep, xer mouth agape. "This is Soldari," xie finally said.

  "Let's leave," Dain'la said, voice low.

  "But we're out of Gevdin!" Helva said. Xie quivered in barely contained outrage under Dain'la's palm.

  Letycja tugged on Helva's sleeve, shooting the innkeep a disapproving look. "C'mon. We'll find somewhere else to stay."

  *~*~*

  The other inns had similar policies, and the guard waited outside the last one to escort the four from Vinnsdale. "If you can't abide by our reasonable requests, then you are not welcome."

  "'Reasonable'," Helva scoffed. "You're no better than a New Gevdinian."

  Letycja pulled Helva away by the hand, but xie turned xer head and shouted back at him as they left. "You're scum!"

  As they departed, the guard stared after them, an expression of confusion on his face. A New Gevdinian on the side of a dark elf? What kind of alliance had they forged?

  A safe distance away, Dain'la pulled down her hood, revealing short cropped white hair and dark grey skin crisscrossed with pale scars. She unstrapped her staff from her back an
d said, "Keep in mind the humans in Soldari aren't going to be as open minded as you."

  "But Soldari isn't at war!" Helva said.

  "We're still near the border," Klimeau said, also lowering his hood with a sigh. Tawny with black stripes, Klimeau's feline features were a stark contrast to Dain'la's elven face. "Prejudices weren't going to just poof once we arrived. I mean, you see how they threw on an extra fee. As if I shed that much!" He flattened his ears in scorn.

  "Soldari is your homeland, though," Helva said. "I don't understand this at all."

  "The catfolk live further west, in the mountains, dear," Letycja said, squeezing Helva's hand. "It'll get better the further we get from Gevdin."

  *~*~*

  "No one would notice if one or two sheep went missing," Helva said, kicking a stone on the road. The four were two day's walk out of Vinnsdale; the occasional farmstead was their only indication they weren't alone in this country. "And it'd be a start to our own flock, for when we reach the pastures outside Celest City."

  "We are not stealing sheep to use them as pack animals," Letycja said. "I'll carry my pack for a bit if you're tired."

  The wind bent the golden grasses of the plain, a herd of sheep visible in the distance. Helva kicked the stone again, sending it ahead of them.

  Dain'la shook her head, bending to pluck a daisy to add to her flower chain. "She's right, Helva. Sheep are not ideal for carrying weight. And Lettie, if you carry your own bag, we'll move no faster than a lumbering greathog."

  Letycja made a noise of protest, and Klimeau cut in, saying gently, "She's being practical, is all, love. We know you have to exert yourself more to keep up with our pace, and we don't want to see you get exhausted."

  "Please, can we borrow some sheep? We could set them free once we got to the next town; we don't have to keep them," Helva said, acting as if the packs were breaking xer back. Xie kicked the stone off into the grass. "Letycja can ride one, even."

  "I cannot!" Letycja said, looking aghast. "Do you even know how big a sheep is compared to me?"

  "They're just mule size," Helva said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.