by E. E. Holmes
“Savvy!” I cried. “I didn’t think we were going to see you!” I sprinted over to her and nearly knocked her flat with a hug. Never one to be outdone, Savvy grabbed me by the waist, dipped me nearly to the ground, and kissed me full on the mouth before releasing me.
“And how about you, wee one? You fancy a snog?” Savvy asked, as Hannah walked toward us.
Hannah grinned. “Well, I don’t want to be left out!”
Savvy threw back her head and roared with laughter, then pulled Hannah into a rib-cracking hug and planted a kiss on her, too, just as Finn appeared beside me.
“Oi, get in line there, mate!” Savvy said, puckering her lips at him. “There’s plenty of Sav to go around.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Finn said bluntly.
“Easy there. I can hold my own in a row, I’m a ginger, remember?” Savvy said, throwing a friendly punch at his arm, which Finn deftly dodged. Then she turned back to us, let out another laugh, and began wiping smudges of red lipstick first from Hannah’s face and then from mine.
“Miss me?” she asked, as she rubbed vigorously at my bottom lip.
“Desperately. Best kiss I’ve had in years,” I said with a laugh.
“Really? Well that’s a bloody crime, isn’t it?” said Savvy, with a pointed look at Finn.
I blushed deeply, but if Finn realized that the comment was directed at him, he didn’t acknowledge it in the least. His eyes were trained on a line of Novitiates who were marching in military formation in front of their barracks. “I’ve got to report to Braxton while I’m here. I’ll see you when I’ve finished,” Finn said. “Where will you be?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Around.”
He scowled so fiercely that I put my hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. We’ll be by the small fountain in the gardens, the one on the way to the Memorial Garth. Is that okay with you, Savvy?”
“Just peachy,” Savvy said.
“Good enough, I’ll meet you there,” Finn said. Don’t go back into the Council Room without me. We need to discuss this Tracker proposal before we make any decisions.”
I raised my eyebrows at him in a long, burning stare. “Rather, before you make any decisions,” he corrected himself grudgingly. Then he turned on his heel and stomped off toward the barracks.
Savvy called after him, teasing. “Sure you don’t want a snog good-bye, Finn? You’re much more my cup of tea! Aw, go on, then!”
Finn kept walking, but flung up two fingers over his shoulder in reply. I’d spent enough time in England to know his gesture was the equivalent of an American flipping the middle finger.
Savvy let loose a low, slow whistle as she watched him go. Then she turned back to us. “Off to the Garth, then?”
Hannah looked down at her feet, where she was digging into the dirt with the toe of one of her shoes. “I kind of thought I might… head to the central courtyard, actually.” She kept her tone casual, but the tremble in her voice betrayed her.
“Do you want me to come with you?” I asked quietly.
“No,” she answered, shaking her head vigorously. “No, I… it’s okay. I just wanted to see it, and maybe… maybe be alone for a little while.”
Savvy looked at Hannah, with a deep understanding in her face. “Sure. We can manage without you for a bit. But don’t go too far! We need a proper catch-up—I want to hear all your news, yeah?”
“Go ahead,” I added, reaching out and squeezing her hand. “We can talk about the Tracker thing when you get back, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll… I’ll catch up with you in a little while,” Hannah replied. She turned and headed through the cloisters toward the central courtyard.
Savvy and I turned past the cloisters and out into the main grounds. I watched over my shoulder as Hannah slipped into the shadowy central corridor of the cloisters and out of sight.
“You think she’ll be alright by herself, mate?” Savvy asked. She, too, had been watching Hannah’s retreat.
“I think so. We haven’t been back to the Geatgrima, or what’s left of it, since… well, since everything that happened. Sometimes you’ve got to go back to the scene of the crime, even if it’s just to let it all go, you know? She’s tougher than she looks.”
“That’s for bloody sure,” Savvy agreed. “Still, hadn’t we best follow her?”
“No, I’ve got a better idea. Wait a second.” I closed my eyes and felt around inside my own head. “Milo?”
“Reporting for duty,” came his singsong voice.
“Hannah is going to the central courtyard, where the Geatgrima was. She said she wanted to be alone, but…”
“Ugh, I knew she shook me off for a reason!” Milo replied. “I’m on it, sweetness.”
“Thanks,” I said. I felt him drift out of my head.
“Done. Milo’s on it,” I told Savvy.
“Ah, good old Milo. She’ll be alright then.”
“Yeah. So how are you? What are you doing here?” Savvy, who had the wildest wild streak of anyone I’d ever met, was possibly the only person who’d been more eager to get away from Fairhaven’s oppressive rules, cliques, and incessant reverence of all things Durupinen than I had been.
“I’m mentoring,” she said, in a tone that suggested she was embarrassed.
“Mentoring? You’re joking!”
She looked affronted. “Oi! I might be a right troublemaker, but I’ve learned a thing or two.”
“I know, I know. I guess I’m just surprised.”
“Surprised they asked me, or surprised I agreed to it?”
I laughed. “Both.”
“Yeah, me too. If you told me a year or two ago that I’d be working here, I’d have said you were off your nut,” Savvy agreed. “But it was a special circumstance. They had to open another new Gateway, and since I’d just gone through the same thing, they thought I might want to help out, you know.”
“Another new one? Really? I thought that was a rare thing when it happened to you,” I said.
“So did I, but turned out they needed to do it again. I was still working in that shop—you remember the one, where you came to visit me last year?”
“Yeah, I think I might remember a little bit about it,” I said. When I’d come to see Savvy, she had asked me to meet her at her shop; she’d given me the address, and had told me that I needed to ask for “Foxy Red” when I arrived. She’d failed to mention, however, that the shop in question was a purveyor of sex toys and bondage gear. When I’d sent her scantily clad coworker into the employees only area to ask if “Foxy” were available, Savvy’s response had been unforgettable; while standing next to the display of that month’s top-selling dildos, I had heard her snorting and choking with laughter in the back room. The story remained an endless fountain of mirth for her ever since.
Savvy giggled, but her tone was bitter as she spoke. “They gave me the sack last month. They said I wasn’t friendly enough to the customers. Pricks.” She paused for a moment, then her tone turned brighter. “But before that, Celeste turned up, cool as you please, while I was stocking whips. Said there was a new girl who needed a bit of help adjusting. At first, I only agreed to meet her and have a little chat, but then she took a shine to me. I felt sorry for her, so now I pop in two days a week to meet with her and her sister. It’s not a bad gig, really. Pays a damn sight better than that den of iniquity, I can tell you that.”
“Wow, that’s… really great Sav. Unexpected, but great. And hey, if it means I get to see you while I’m here, even better.”
“Well, strictly speaking, I wasn’t supposed to be here today, but a little birdie let slip you were coming, so here I am! Your welcoming committee!” She grinned broadly and flung an arm around me as we rounded a corner in the path. “So, sounds like my old chum has been up to all kinds of shenanigans, yeah? What else have you got up to, besides blowing up the Internet?”
“Oh, you know me. Starving artist with an attitude problem, serving fancy coffee drinks and sketching my
way through the world,” I replied. “My job at the museum is pretty cool, though. I like that a lot, even if I’m doing mostly grunt work right now.”
It was a long walk, but we finally reached the fountain. Despite the day’s chill, the walk had overheated me; I slipped off my jacket as I sat down on the fountain’s lip.
“Oi! Is that new ink?” asked Savvy, her tone delighted. “Come on then, give us a proper look.”
“What? Oh, yeah,” I said, pushing my sleeve up so she could see the whole piece. “It’s only a few months old.”
“Blimey,” Savvy murmured. “That’s elaborate, mate! Looks like your style, too. That’s your own design, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I said, although I felt a little strange taking credit for it. It didn’t feel like I had anything to do with the design, honestly. The image had sprung fully formed from my mind one night when I woke out of a dead sleep, seized with a violent urge to draw. “It was a Muse thing,” I added, to make me feel as if I were at least sharing the credit.
“It looks like it could tell a story all its own, mate,” Savvy replied. “What’s it all mean?”
I ran my finger along the intricate black-and-gray artwork. “The open book at the base is the Book of Téigh Anonn. The big, gnarled tree growing out of it is a symbol of my family, and of my clan roots.
“Is that trunk made out of runes?” Savvy asked in an awed whisper. “That’s wicked!”
“Yeah, and the Triskele and a Geatgrima are in there somewhere too,” I said. “And then the leaves blowing off the top of the tree turn into ravens flying away.” With my finger, I followed their trail up my shoulder, where the last of the ravens met my collarbone.
“Ravens? Why ravens?”
“Remember that raven Ileana kept as a pet?” I asked. “The Travelers believe ravens are bad luck, but Anca told me that Ileana had tamed her raven as a way of facing her bad luck head-on, of taking some control over it. I like to think I’ve done the same thing with the whole Durupinen legacy. It’s just bad luck that I’m stuck with it, so I’m trying to take ownership of it. You know, turning lemons into lemonade.”
“Ghostly lemonade,” Savvy snorted. “Yeah, alright, I get that. And what’s this?” She pointed to an oversized Spirit Catcher dangling from one of the tree’s branches.
“That’s to remind me of Irina,” I said. “I don’t remember if you ever saw her when we were in the Traveler camp, but you must know how much I owe her… how much we all owe her, really.”
Many years before I met Irina, the Traveler Council had taught her to Walk, despite the known dangers of becoming a Walker. Soon Irina had fallen victim to these dangers; leaving her still-living body behind and existing in spirit form proved too pleasurable and addictive for her to resist. Eventually, returning to her own body and living inside it became pure torture. The Traveler Council, afraid they would totally lose control of her and the clan secrets she possessed, had imprisoned Irina in a disused wagon and trapped her, with experimental Castings, inside her own body; by the time I’d met her, the years of captivity had driven Irina to insanity. Yet despite her madness, Irina had managed to teach me to Walk; she’d given me the knowledge and skills I needed to save Hannah, Walk through the Gateway, and thwart the Necromancers’ dark ambitions.
Irina had finally escaped her prison, thank God, when the Necromancers had attacked the Traveler’s Camp and had fatally wounded her body. When last I saw her, her spirit—in Walker form—was drifting euphorically towards the starry sky as she stretched her metaphorical wings toward freedom.
“No, mate, I never saw her materialize—but I did feel her presence when she was teaching you. Couldn’t miss something that strong, now could I?” replied Savvy.
“So when I look at the Spirit Catcher I remember that even though I’m one of the Durupinen, I’m not captive to them. I have a power that no one else on Earth possesses, and I will make my own life.”
“That’s deep, mate,” Savvy said. “I’ve got a winking budgie inked on my arse, but that’s just because I lost a bet when I was pissed.”
“I’m sure the winking budgie is full of deep, hidden meaning—even if you were too drunk to remember it,” I assured her, patting her on the back. “And before you ask, no, I don’t want to see it.”
Savvy shrugged. “Your loss, mate.”
As so often happened with me and Sav, what started as a small giggle built itself into unabashed, uncontrollable laughter. We laughed until our sides hurt and tears rolled down our cheeks. When we had laughed ourselves out—a process that took several tries and at least five full minutes—we sat in silence, catching our breath.
“So no, uh… romantic developments?” Savvy finally asked, winking salaciously.
“Are you kidding? Men are following me around constantly. Just not any living ones.”
“Oh, come on now,” Savvy cried, throwing her hands up in frustration. “I kept mum about it the last time you were here, but… do I really have to spell it out for you?”
“Apparently, because I don’t know what you’re—”
“Finn! You! Why haven’t you two shagged already?”
“Savvy! That’s not… we’re not…” I stuttered; I was pretty sure my face was now as fiery as her hair.
“Oh come off it, Jess!” Savvy cried, rolling her eyes so hard she just might have pulled a muscle. “What do you think I am, a blooming idiot? You two were on the verge of something when you left here, I felt it. I read the poetry, for fuck’s sake! That book was one long love letter to you! If a bloke wrote something like that about me, I’d be shagging his brains out!”
“You’re such a romantic, Sav.”
“Come on now, mate, what the hell happened?”
I shrugged, meaning to brush her question off, but as I moved my shoulders, I felt the pain knot up inside me as that familiar, made-small-by-rejection, sensation washed over me. I suppose if I had to tell this story to anyone, Savvy was the right person.
“I don’t know. I thought something might come out of it. I really did. I think he did, too. But then we got back home and we started talking, and he just… closed himself off.”
“How do you mean?” she pressed.
“You know how he is,” I said. “It’s all work and duty and responsibility first. When we were fighting the Necromancers, I think he was able to forget all of that for a minute. When you think the world as you know it is about to end, it can make you do some crazy things. For Finn, crazy meant allowing himself to have feelings.”
“And then when the world didn’t end?” Savvy prompted quietly.
“He closed back up,” I said, shrugging again—a shrug that dug deep into me and scraped against something raw and painful. “Not right away. I think it took some time to sink in, you know? He did start to let me in. Well, actually, we started to let each other in… I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly a champion when it comes to opening up and trusting other people.”
Savvy smiled encouragingly. “It’s alright, mate, neither am I. You’re doing a bang-up job right now, though. Go on, if you like. I’m listening.”
I smiled back, took a deep breath, and went on, “One night, a few weeks after we got home, Finn brought one of his oldest black notebooks over to the dorm. It was full of poems he’d written before we met. He said he’d never shared them with anyone before, but he wanted me to read them. So I did. I read all of them, the whole book, while he sat there nervously, just watching me. And they were incredible, every single one of them.”
I paused for a moment, collecting myself before the tears welling in my eyes had a chance to begin flowing. “Then we talked about his poems, about what it feels like to write them. It’s this release for him, this… catharsis, just like it is for me when I draw. We talked and talked, and I felt like we really connected for the first time. It was two in the morning before he got up to leave.”
“Daft prick,” Savvy said with a slight laugh, shaking her head. “And you actually let h
im go?”
“I asked him to stay. And I meant it. But he said he couldn’t. And then he kissed me.” I smiled in spite of myself at the memory, even though the moment was so fleeting. “Or maybe I kissed him. I’m not really sure, but we were kissing. I asked again if he would stay, and…”
I trailed off, not sure I wanted to share the rest of the memory. This wasn’t just some guy long buried in my past, it was Finn. Finn, who I had to see all the time. Finn, who was pledged to my Gateway. Finn, who was just around the bend in the barracks this very minute.
“Aw, you mustn’t leave it there, mate—what happened?” Savvy urged, practically salivating with interest.
“He said he couldn’t and he left,” I answered.
That wasn’t strictly true. What Finn had actually said, while cupping my face between his hands, was, “Not tonight. But some day, if you’ll have me, I’ll stay and never leave.” But those words, whispered in a darkened doorway with his lips a mere breath away from mine, were just for me; I wasn’t going to share them. I hadn’t even told Hannah, although she knew something had happened between us—probably because I’d floated around like a lovestruck ingénue from a Rodgers and Hammerstein musical for the next day and a half.
“So what went wrong?” Savvy asked breathlessly.
I yanked myself ruthlessly out of my reverie and into the harshness of the present. “I have no idea. He wouldn’t tell me. He just showed up two days later, acting like he’d never had the slightest interest in me. When I asked him, he merely said, ‘It wasn’t what you thought it was.’ And he’s barely looked me in the eye since! So here we are now… our relationship consists of his overprotective Caomhnóir hovering and our snarky comments about each other’s flaws.”
Savvy reached out and patted me on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, mate.”
“What are you sorry for? You didn’t do anything.”
“I know that. But I also know you. I know you don’t let many people in there,” and she landed a gentle punch just above my chest.
“Whatever, it’s not a big deal,” I said, in a voice that sounded for a moment as if it had come out of a stranger’s mouth. “Finn had feelings for me, but they obviously changed. It happens.”