by Kay Williams
I nodded; I hadn’t attempted to deny that I had been running out of steam.
Now it was all over and Long had met his fate dealt to him on the edge of Valdine's sword. All I wanted was to sleep before the enormity of everything that had happened over the last week sank in and I lost all ability to shut down.
Aolir shifted his weight and he swept an arm beneath my knees and lifted me up, he pressed a soft kiss against my cheek and I cuddled into him already greedily absorbing his warmth and strength. I knew I would be asleep long before he put me down, I had no idea where I would wake up, but I knew that Aolir would be there and I would be safe and that was all that mattered.
# # #
I had a problem and it wasn’t the one I expected it to be.
In the days that followed Long’s True Death I had become very grateful for Aolir’s continued over-protective and possessive tendencies. The Dependants weren’t outside the law but their Faction had so many unique qualities that they did require special policing by their Council and when all the evidence had been presented to the Criminal Prosecution Service they saw no reason to dispute the decision to give Long his True Death.
It did mean that every aspect of the case had to be opened to the public domain, it meant that my face was splashed over every newspaper on two worlds. It meant that every Dependant and abstract knew about the sharing of power which I didn’t think was too bad a thing. But it also meant that people were divided on if I should be hailed a hero and a survivor or be prosecuted myself.
Luckily for me the Council rose up united in my defence, absolved me of any wrong doing and praised me for the actions that put my own life in danger to protect other abstracts and lure Long and his men out of hiding to be captured.
The whole case and the media attention that followed had strangely turned me into a kind of celebrity. People who knew me were bothered by the press for interviews. People I had never met claimed to know me. People stopped me if they saw me in the street and asked for displays of my ability, and I promptly scowled at them until they went away.
My mother of course was lapping up the media attention and I wouldn’t have been surprised to know she had already made thousands out of the affair; even though she knew nothing about it. The Dependant Council was more generous and had rised plenty of money for charity and for the victims of Long’s persecution by publicising the whole thing.
My stepfather had only issued one statement and then refused any other interviews and had actually made steps to sue some of the papers who had hounded his new wife. A woman I had never even met and now sadly probably never would, of course the nationwide search had begun in earnest for my genetic father and all sorts of people were clamouring for their five minutes of fame by declaring it was them only for it to be disproven.
Irrenitty had called in the midst of all the confusion, one of the few people I saw in person, and we had a long conversation about everything that had happened.
Due to my sworn statement with the police Carson had advised me to stick to my original story about Snow. The video evidence did support it and though there was speculation it wasn’t an accident there was no way of proving it, but speculation had been enough to throw my position at the museum and my future into doubt. I wasn’t surprised when Irrenitty suggested I take a leave of absence at half pay. A twelve month sabbatical was a very politically correct way of distancing the museum from me and from the death of Snow without appearing as though they were firing me straight off the bat in front of all the press. But we both knew once the fray had died down, I would be either offered a healthy redundancy package, or I would be cut loose.
Irrenitty might have been a good man and a good boss but he didn’t want someone who had confessed to two murders and was suspected of another in his employment any more than the other staff, people who I had counted as friends, wanted to work with one.
I had been tempted to point out that under the extreme conditions of finding Pear dead and having my life threatened I was positive that anyone in my position would have done the same thing. But in the end, I decided I didn’t want the argument on top of all the press coverage and accepted the inevitable gracefully which Irrenitty was visibly grateful for. I was sure that Carson and Shay at the very least wouldn’t let me become destitute if I had problems finding another job.
Through it all Aolir had been my champion, he had become downright scary when some paparazzi had been caught trespassing on the fairground after dark. Aolir had even gone so far as to hold one of them upside down above the tiger cage and threatened to drop him if he so much as pointed a long lens in my general direction.
I spent my days in his tent or with his merchants helping him in any way I could and along with his protection he lent me his ear. Anytime I needed to talk, day or night, Aolir had been there, listening and purring and letting me say aloud every thought that had come into my head offering his opinions, soothing my worries and above all else just understanding my lack of grief or guilt and not judging me for it.
The publicity however was short lived, partly due to the Council’s adamant defence and Aolir’s unconventional approach to handling the harassment, but mostly because two weeks after the case was heard by the CPS, and Long had been given his True Death, the people who had been held in one of the other warehouses had been released from hospital. Somehow Long's medical records of the systematic abuse of these people had become leaked and the papers had abandoned me to focus on the stories of those who had been experimented on, Bespelled, held captive and tortured for several weeks before they were rescued.
The press leapt on the story with renewed fervour, I was forgotten almost overnight, as it was easier for them to sell the story of actual victims rather than that of an ambiguous hero with a bloodthirsty streak and a tendency for wielding an axe with lethal purpose.
If I hadn’t been so relieved by the sudden shift in their attention I would have felt spurned.
I had hoped that the lack of press intrusion in my life would bring some sense of normality back to it. That Aolir would stop his midnight prowls and I could go back to sleeping nights in his arms as well as in his bed but if anything the sudden lull only seemed to show me more acutely how little my dragon was around for anything that
didn’t involve getting something off my chest or eating.
So Aolir had turned into a problem and I wasn’t sure what to do about it.
With the Pause Festival over the fair was beginning to pack up and get ready to travel back to Favlas, with my sabbatical confirmed I wanted to show Aolir that I could be useful. His merchants seemed to take to me quickly enough and when they began dismantling their stalls and tents I was able to use my abstract to get the job done much faster and with less fuss, effort and yelling. But Aolir didn’t seem to notice any of it and I could tell he was trying to distance himself. What hurt most of all was when he slept the night though uncomfortably reclined in a chair rather then in his bed, it left me feeling like an imposter in the tent when he had always welcomed me so unconditionally before.
I doubted that dragons took a companion to coffee to tell them that whatever attraction they had felt was over, and though I detested hearing the ‘let’s just be friends’ speech that I had had levelled at me so many times in the past I would have preferred it when matched against Aolir’s sudden disinterest.
The flap of the tent was brushed to one side and Aolir swept in with a large tray of food, lunch was one of the few things that we still did together and something I looked forward too. Aolir might have assumed that I wouldn’t want to leave Earth and had been trying to anticipate my thoughts and feelings as he had been doing all along. Or he might just not want me around anymore now the challenge, the danger and the adventure had passed. Either way I needed an answer.
“Good morning?” I asked once he had made himself comfortable.
“Busy. Thanks for helping with the tents.”
Aolir’s grateful tone gave me hope and confidence.
&nb
sp; “Putting them up shouldn’t be a problem for me either,” I smiled. Aolir froze and it wasn’t in the best way I had anticipated, it was in the stiff way of someone quietly panicking, but now I had started I had to give a reason for my offer. Even if it meant swallowing back the words about mutual attraction. “I have a work visa for Favlas. It’s a little more restrictive than a passport but I figured it was something the fair might be able to find useful. I was hoping that I might convince you to let me work for you?”
“As what?” Two words asked with careful slowness.
“An appraiser, maybe?”
“And that’s all?”
Aolir hadn’t looked at me once and I didn’t think that was a good thing, I took a deep slow breath. I had been broken up with often enough over the years that I had perfected the look of calm acceptance and sweet indifference that most men found more comforting than the tears and distress that I was really feeling. The only problem was Aolir had always read me so well I had to wonder if he couldn’t see right through me.
“I don’t claim to be an expert on men or dragons, Aolir.” I managed to find a teasing tone. “But I do know that when one, the other or both no longer wants to sleep in the same bed as the girl they couldn’t keep their hands off of just days before that something has had to have changed.”
Aolir did wince then.
“That wasn’t very subtle, was it?”
“You haven’t been sedate or subtle from the moment we met. I wouldn’t expect you to be someone you’re not.”
“You are taking this very well, I worried perhaps I had not made myself clear.”
“No-one can explain attraction,” I repeated his own words back at him, I had thought them a compliment at the time but I realised how he meant them now. “But that doesn’t mean it lasts.”
“So you should take advantage of it while it is here,” Aolir agreed.
If Aolir hadn’t given me so much of his protection and time I would have thought myself taken advantage of. But considering what he had felt, and what he wanted, everything else he had done had only served to prove that he was beyond generous. All I had to deal with was the disappointment that it hadn’t lasted as long for him as I wanted it to for me, and that disappointment was born not of his doing but of my own insecure needs.
“I take it that you won’t want another employee then?”
“I don’t think it would be wise. We should go our own ways, for now at least.”
So he wasn’t all that fooled by my attitude after all, he wanted time and distance between us to cool whatever malcontent I harboured, he probably knew that none of it was directed at him and wanted to give me space to blame myself and get over it.
What was wrong with me that I knew getting over Aolir would be harder than getting over killing three people?
I picked up one of the paper napkins and found a pen amongst some of his scattered work and jotted down a number, he took it when I held it out but he hesitated when he did so, as if accepting the number was a promise he didn’t want to make.
“At least wire me when you find something interesting,” I said. “I might want it.”
Now the dragon smiled.
###
The latte was hot and had a pretty little caramel topping on the milk. Heronsgate’s black regular smelt rich, South’s tea had a slice of lemon on the rim and Cornwall’s espresso looked tiny compared to our large mugs.
“Oh, no,” Cornwall complained as he slipped into his chair and shot me an appealing glance. “I forgot Henry’s sugar.”
With a roll of my eyes I got out of my chair accompanied by Cornwall’s complaint and went to fetch a handful of the sachets from the counter.
“Thanks,” Heronsgate smiled.
“I thought you would,” Cornwall complained gesturing up with his hands. “You know...”
“Yes,” I agreed. “But the Voice also gave me legs and arms and hands and the ability to use them.”
South sniggered into her tea and Cornwall scowled his disappointment. I should have known better then to worry he would be traumatised by his hostage experience, instead Cornwall had asked me if we could schedule a repeat in a couple of months. He said being forced to sit in his office all day had actually done wonders for his productivity, finding out I was a powerful abstract who could stop bullets and had taken the heads off two of my kidnappers with a fireman’s axe appeared to be the icing on the cake for him, like Aolir Dragonic instincts, Cornwall’s animal approved of my ability to fight back.
Even his best efforts though hadn’t meant that he had seen me use my abstract with his own eyes and he was rather dedicated to trying to force me into a position where he could see it for himself.
It hadn’t yet occurred to the intelligent man that he could just ask.
After some trial and error Cornwall had managed to devise a way that stopped my abstract from forming into the shield which had hampered me most of my life. He simply forced me to wear an elastic band around my wrist and when he felt the first effects of the shield he would snap it hard enough that I would yelp and had to resist the urge to smack him back.
It was Cornwall’s success with the elastic band that had led to this meeting.
Heronsgate had caught my eye when we shook hands for the second time. They had shone with concern and apology, I didn’t need his psychic talent to know he seemed to think it was his visit which had sealed my fate. I was of the opinion that if Long had known anything about Heronsgate’s abstract he would have found himself ‘outed’ and under attack himself.
South appeared to be braving my shield at Cornwall’s insistence he could keep it under control but I didn’t miss her shocked wince the first time Cornwall had snapped the band. I told her the only reason I put up with Cornwall's idea was because, harsh as it was, it worked. It also had the added bonus of helping me to identify the triggers that led to the shield going up in the first place; the more triggers I identified the less Cornwall needed to snap the band.
We were in a small coffee bar Cornwall had chosen that I had walked passt twice before I had seen the alleyway entrance; in its favour it was cool, private and the staff very professional considering they had Heronsgate and South walk through the door. It was also over an hour away from Hyde Park and the procession that was seeing the fair back across the Nexus and I needed to be as far from that event and Aolir as possible.
Going back to my flat had been painful, the rooms felt small and suffocating after the open air and uncluttered space of Aolir’s tent, my belongings were all safely in place never having had the chance to be moved. After Long had taken Cornwall there hadn’t been much point in putting my things into storage as had been planned, but I had had to clean and rearrange my furniture before I could begin to forget how Aolir had touched or used everything.
Cornwall snapped the band and Heronsgate would have ended up with my latte in his lap had I not released the cup just in time.
“That one hurt!” I complained, rubbing at the red mark already coming up on my wrist.
“That’s what you pay me for,” Cornwall smiled.
There was no apology in his voice, Cornwall took his duty as my trainer very seriously and I knew he was rather enjoying it as a kind of payback for not telling him about my abstract to start with. He seemed to take it as a personal slight that I had not trusted him. He wouldn’t hold the grudge for long but until he felt I was sufficiently punished I would suffer.
“So what do you intend to do now?” South asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered.
I would have worried about being on half pay had I not had a small income from the parts of my hoard, I doubted I would ever think of it as a collection again, that were
currently on display.
“Don’t do anything,” Cornwall advised. “Enjoy the break.”
“I would go crazy with nothing but a diet of daytime television for a year,” I argued. “I need to do something.”
“I know what you mean,” So
uth replied.
“You don’t watch television,” Heronsgate laughed softly at her.
Ignoring him with an indulgent smile South’s attention never wavered from me.
“I mean,” she stressed. “When I quit my jobs to write full-time I thought I was mad, writing was something I had done for fun for so long I couldn’t see how it would support me, I actually stared at my computer for hours without writing anything, panicking because I wasn’t writing anything.”
My mouth very nearly dropped open, it was the first time the shy little author had ventured more than a handful of words in my direction.
“You felt you should be doing something.”
“It was so surreal, it didn’t feel like work and yet it wasn’t my hobby anymore, it was a real no man’s land.”
What South wasn’t saying was that she got over it, she enjoyed her popularity thinking it to be as fast burning as my own. Only to discover that the New Year had brought an even bigger reception to her second novel then her first one had received. She didn’t appear to have let it go to her head though. Whenever she spoke about her work she seemed a bit bemused by it, as if it was written by other people and she was getting all the credit for it.
“Charity work,” Heronsgate offered helpfully. “There are a lot of non-profit organisations out there.”
“All of them working with vulnerable people who need her shield scaring them to death,” Cornwall broke in with a laugh.
“And if the shield doesn’t work the axe will,” South sniggered.
It should have been a tease, I knew neither of them meant any harm, but the words hurt and I found myself hiding my flinch behind the excuse of needing the bathroom. The two of them laughed, more at each other than at me, but Heronsgate’s concerned expression didn’t falter even after I waved him back into his seat and escaped from my own. I ran the tap cold and splashed my face a couple of times. Aolir would never have made fun of me like that, I missed the dragon, his purring, warmth and his non-judgemental attitude.