by Pati Nagle
Poppy. Shit.
Madóran carried the bowl out to the living room. I cleaned up the dishes and tidied the kitchen. Caeran came in with the tea pitcher, stuck it in the fridge.
“Do you have any yard work that needs doing?” I asked him. “I could use some exercise.”
“Not at the moment.”
“Then I guess I’ll ride my bike down to my place. I should check the mail.”
“I could drive you.”
I shook my head. “Thanks, but I really need the workout.”
“Take your phone.”
“Right.”
I went to Lomen’s room to collect my keys and a gimmie hat, then went out to the living room. Len was there, watching Madóran feed soup to Pirian.
He still looked like crap. His black eyes locked on mine. At that moment I’d have been happy to beat the shit out of him.
I went to the garage, feeling his gaze on me. The hair on the back of my neck rose.
I got on the bike and pumped hard to the intersection with Lead. I hadn’t been back to my apartment in over a week. I wondered if I would find any more charming surprises. The thought made me tense, and I pedaled down the hill even though I didn’t need to.
No burned crosses on the lawn, no new signs on the door. I emptied the mailbox and carried the heap inside to sort it. Brought my bike in, too, and locked the door. Yes, I felt paranoid.
I looked around at my college-student furnishings, surprised at how stark the place seemed. I’d been living with the ælven for a couple of weeks now, and was getting used to the way they decorated. They liked lavish ornamentation, often incorporating botanicals—lush vines, leaves, and flowers—and animals. A celebration of life.
As opposed to my décor, which was more a celebration of economy.
I sighed, feeling lonely. Except for the sound of traffic outside, the place was silent.
I missed Lomen.
Here, away from all the telepaths, it was safe to think whatever I wanted. The thought uppermost in my mind was that I had gotten myself into a weird and fairly scary situation. It didn’t help that I was powerless against the alben who threatened the happiness of my new family.
Because that’s basically what they were. Family. Clan, they called it. What it meant was, more than just friends. We looked out for each other. We had connections; intimate ones.
I got myself a glass of water and sat on the couch to sort the mail. Mostly junk, as usual. I recognized my sister’s handwriting on a card-shaped envelope. Set it aside until I’d looked through all the rest. There was an electric bill I was almost late in paying; I dealt with it, then opened my sister’s card.
It was a birthday card. “Happy Birthday, Brother,” with a football player with a cake tucked into his elbow.
I’d completely forgotten my birthday. It had been a few days ago. I was legal now. I’d always planned to celebrate by going out to a bar and getting carded.
In the past, when I’d been dating, I’d made sure my current squeeze knew about my birthday. It hadn’t even occurred to me to tell Lomen. Maybe because it was kind of ludicrous to demand recognition of my twenty-one years from someone who was several centuries older?
I swallowed and set the card aside. Nice of Ruth to remember. I should send her a note.
Was I really going to spend my life with the ælven, trying to solve their problems? Was that really my best choice?
The alternative was to come back to my second-hand furniture and my empty bed and try to forget them. Start over. Alone.
No. They were too amazing, too exhilarating. I was hooked, just like the alben, only where they were hooked on darkness, I was hooked on light.
Every time one of the ælven spoke in my mind, even Caeran in his gentle way, it thrilled me to the core. I was in awe of their beauty, their grace. And Lomen—if I had to die tomorrow, one more night with him would make it worth it.
Except he was in Mora somewhere. I’d forgotten the name of the town.
I swallowed the longing and looked for something else to think about. Picked up Ruth’s card again and opened it. She’d written a couple of lines under the stupid football joke:
Mom broke her foot stepping off a curb. She’s doing fine but misses her water aerobics class. Dad’s thinking about running for the City Council. Miss you.
Love, Ruth
I got out some paper and an envelope and wrote her a short note thanking her and hoping she was well. Hoped Mom would be better soon. Didn’t send a message to Dad; if he was running for political office, the last thing he’d want would be to hear from his gay son. I’m sure he wouldn’t have minded if I’d dropped off the face of the planet.
Which was sort of what I’d tried to do, where my family was concerned. I really didn’t fit in with the rest of them. Maybe I was a changeling.
Ruth was practicing her Christian charity by writing to me. She liked to think she loved me but in fact we didn’t know each other that well. She was destined for marriage and motherhood, though she talked about going to nursing school after high school. I suspected she secretly wanted to be engaged by the time she graduated so she could skip college.
I hoped she’d find her dream football player, and that he’d do something useful after his knees blew out, maybe selling cars or insurance. The idea of being around to witness any of it made me depressed.
I would never, ever tell my family about the ælven, not even the smallest detail. They would think I’d joined a hippie commune or something.
Maybe I had.
Smiling, I took the junk mail to the recycling bin, then tidied the living room. Scrounged up some stamps for the electric bill and the note to Ruth, wheeled out my bike, locked up, and left. I dropped the mail at the post office, then rode home.
The curtains were drawn tight over the front window. The garage door opened as I rode into the driveway and dismounted; someone had been watching for me. I put my bike away and went into the house, pausing just inside the living room to let my eyes adjust.
The kitchen windows were covered, now, and the house was darker. Without vision, I was more aware of Pirian’s presence in the room: a heaviness off to my right, where the couch was. That discomfort that made me want to flee. I’d always assumed it was his attitude that bugged me, but now I wondered if it was something else.
We weren’t alone; there was at least one ælven in the room as well. I recognized a slight tingling sensation that felt good. It was familiar, but I hadn’t consciously noticed it before.
I was beginning to see a little, silhouettes of Madóran and Len near the couch. They hadn’t greeted me, and assuming the silence was intentional I kept my mouth shut and walked quietly down the hall to Lomen’s room.
My hand went to the light switch, then I decided against it. I sat on the bed and felt gingerly around on the nightstand. Found Lomen’s candle but no matches. Damn.
Well, fine. I took out my phone and woke it up. The screen was plenty bright enough for me to confirm that there was no box of matches, nor a lighter, anywhere in the room.
Giving up, I left the phone on the bed, took out a change of clothes, and headed for the bathroom to shower. I tormented myself a little by using Lomen’s soap, the smell of evergreen and spice and the hot water waking memories that made me stifle more than one groan.
He’d be back soon. The crisis was over; Madóran had pronounced me, and I presumed the house, free of infected blood. No reason why Lomen couldn’t come back right away instead of waiting for Evennight.
When was Evennight, anyway?
I dried off and dressed, then went back to my phone to surf up the equinox. It was Friday. A week away.
I could offer to drive up and fetch Lomen, except I didn’t have a car. Kind of doubtful that Caeran would want to lend me the Lexus. Besides, I didn’t know exactly where Lomen was.
Something made me aware of someone in the hallway, either a sound or that tingly sensation. I looked up, shielding, and saw a silhouette in the doorway
.
“I am going out to run an errand,” Caeran said softly. “Would you like to come along?”
“Sure.”
The darkness in the house was a little oppressive. I told myself I could study later and followed Caeran to the garage.
After the house and even the feeble light in the garage, the daylight was blinding. I wished I’d grabbed my shades. Caeran seemed not to be bothered, and I realized I’d never seen him, or any ælven, wearing sunglasses.
He drove east, and at first I thought he was going to cruise the cheap hotels on Central looking for the alben, but he turned north again and headed for the freeway. Watching him reminded me of Lomen, which made me lonely. I gazed at the Sandia Mountains, remembering hiking up there with one of my exes.
Caeran drove to an electronics store. Hadn’t expected that. I followed him into the computer department and over to a display of tablets.
“Which kind does Amanda use?” he asked.
I pointed out the model, then let myself get distracted by the sexy, state-of-the-art ones. My phone was a couple of years old. I told myself firmly that it was fine for at least a couple more. Stuff changed so fast, and I couldn’t afford cutting edge.
“Is that one better?” Caeran asked, looking over my shoulder.
“Not really. It’s got some nice features, but the other one’s fine.”
Caeran pulled three boxed tablets like the one I was looking at from the shelf. “You will need the best available tools as we go forward with Ebonwatch.”
I put down the demo and followed him to the checkout, feeling like I should decline, except he wasn’t just buying one for me. He paid cash for the tablets and the extended warranties.
As I helped take the boxes to the car, I wondered if he always carried that much money. Might make him a target for muggers.
But then, a human mugger probably wouldn’t stand much chance against an ælven. They could do everything the alben did, they just chose not to.
Good thing they had that creed.
“It is time we set up our laboratory,” Caeran said as he started the car. “Pirian and the alben have distracted us, but there is little we can do about them at present. Tomorrow I intend to view some properties that might work for the lab. I’d like you to come along, if you’re willing. Your opinion would be helpful.”
“Sure.”
He drove to a grocery store. After insisting that we put the tablets in the trunk, I followed him around as he shopped. He was picky; top-quality stuff: organic produce, whole-grain breads, fancy cheese. He invited me to add anything I wanted to the cart.
“Do you cook?”
“Bachelor cooking,” I said. “You guys outclass me by a mile. I’m happy to wash the dishes.”
I did grab a carton of plain yogurt, and Caeran asked me to pick out some ice cream since he didn’t much care about sweets. Following his lead, I chose top-shelf brands, a half-gallon each of Dutch chocolate, coffee, and butter pecan.
The afternoon was fading by the time we headed home. A storm front was coming in from the west, making it dark early. It would be a good night to stay in.
I helped carry everything inside, and noticed that a fire was going in the living room fireplace. Caeran turned on the kitchen light and we put away the groceries, then he started making dinner. I offered to help, but he waved me away.
“Get your tablet set up. The others are for Len and Manda.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I grabbed one of the tablets and headed for Lomen’s room, where I could turn on the light to work on setting up software and transferring files. Before I knew it, there was a soft knock on the door: Len, calling me to dinner.
Candles were burning on the table in the dining nook, their golden glow the only light in the room besides the fireplace. “We would have eaten out back,” Len said, setting a platter of broiled salmon on the table, “but it’s getting windy.”
Caeran brought out rice pilaf and spinach to go with the fish. “Madóran,” he said gently. “Time to eat.”
The healer looked up from his post by the couch, then stood and stretched. With a last glance at his patient he went down the hall, and a couple of minutes later joined us at the table.
“Is he any better?” Caeran asked in a low voice.
“Still very weak,” Madóran said. “It will take time. He is stable, at least, and in less pain.”
“Will you need Len tomorrow, or may I take her to view possible sites for the laboratory?”
Madóran looked at Len. “By all means, go,” he told her. “I do not mean to keep you bound here.”
“But if you need my help—”
“You can help when you return. We will be fine.”
She hesitated, and I wondered if she was worried that Pirian would do something awful to Madóran while we were away. I didn’t think he was capable, frankly, but I was no expert.
“Maybe Savhoran and Manda could be here tomorrow,” I said. “Are they coming tonight?”
“Yes,” Caeran said. “That is a good suggestion.”
While we ate, Caeran talked quietly about the properties he wanted to look at. Some were just vacant land, some had buildings. All of them were outside the city, east of the mountains. It would be a significant commute for us as long as we lived in town. I almost mentioned that, but then I remembered that after three years or so we’d be mostly done with college; certainly with regular classes. We could move out of the city, finish our degrees up by telecommuting. I had a feeling Caeran wanted to get away from Albuquerque.
If they bought land and built, that whole process could take a year or more anyway. Caeran was talking about a large lab, with a separate structure for offices and another that would be a small dorm, essentially, where people working in the lab could grab a shower or a meal or crash for a while without having to drive back to town.
“Manda and Len have drawn up a list of equipment we’ll need,” Caeran said. “If you don’t mind, Steven, I’d like you to look it over and add anything they might have missed.”
“Can you give me a little budgeting guidance? I mean, an electron microscope would be nice, but...”
“I believe that’s already on the list.”
I took a breath. “I need a maximum, because I’m sure I can go over it.”
“All right. Try to stay under ten million dollars.”
I stared, wondering if he was joking. He didn’t look like he was.
Madóran shot Caeran an amused glance, then turned to me. “Financial resources are not an issue. Please ask for everything you can imagine needing. We will let you know if anything you request is beyond our means.”
Cryogenic freezer? DNA sequencing analyzer?
Holy cats.
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
Pirian made a small noise. Madóran instantly rose and went to him.
That signaled the end of the meal; Caeran and Len stood. I helped clear away the dinner things. Len fixed a plate for Manda in case she hadn’t already eaten, and put it in the oven to keep warm.
I pulled the curtain aside to peek out the kitchen window. The storm had robbed us of a sunset; the sky was ragged, trees swaying. I let the curtain fall and started in on the dishes.
I was just finishing up in the kitchen when a knock fell on the front door, followed by the doorbell. It was Manda and Savhoran. Caeran took them to the table.
“You hungry?” I asked Manda.
She nodded, so I fetched her plate, and brought out tea for the rest of us. Savhoran thanked me with a silent smile. While Manda was eating, Caeran quietly told them what he’d learned that day at the scene of Poppy’s murder.
Manda dropped her fork with a clatter that made me wince. Madóran looked up at her from his chair by the couch. She cussed under her breath, and Savhoran took her hand.
“I’m afraid there’s more bad news,” Caeran said, and told them about Mirali’s request that Savhoran not attend the Evennight celebration.
Savhor
an’s face was unreadable. Manda looked ready to explode.
“We’ve got a plan, though,” I said hastily, looking at Len.
She explained her alternate-Evennight idea, though she didn’t sound excited about driving Madóran home.
“I could do that, if you want,” I offered.
Len looked at me. “Actually, I’d rather not see Mirali, so if you don’t mind...”
“I don’t. I’d need directions, though.”
“Madóran can direct you,” Caeran said, watching me.
My motivation was probably obvious, but no one commented on it.
Manda was still simmering. “You know, it’s pretty insulting of Mirali to ask that,” she said.
Caeran nodded. “I will speak to her about it.”
“Are there more Greystones?” I asked.
They all looked at me.
“Back in Europe, I mean—or did all of you come over?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Manda said.
“Just thinking ahead,” I said, glancing at Caeran.
“There are others,” he said quietly. “Greystone is kin-clan to a larger clan. We were given the name when we chose to come here.”
“So Greystone is just you guys, but you have connections elsewhere,” I said.
“Yes.”
Those were the people Mirali would go back to, if she left Greystone. They were also, possibly, a genetic safety net. I wanted to ask how many there were, but it seemed like the wrong time.
Madóran came to the table and greeted Savhoran and Manda. “There is broth with greens, if you wish it,” he told Savhoan.
Savhoran shook his head, lips tight.
“He needs to hunt,” Manda said in a low voice. “We just came over to find out how that one was doing.” She jerked a thumb in Pirian’s direction, frowning again.
“In another day or two, he will be stronger,” Madóran said.
“Good, ‘cause we’ve got questions.”
“Maybe you’ll be able to ask some of them tomorrow,” Caeran said. He told them about our going to look at land tomorrow, and asked if they’d spend the day with Madóran and Pirian.
“Of course,” Savhoran said. Manda frowned, but he looked at her and she gave in with a sigh. “Pirian is still my clan-brother,” Savhoran added. “I will gladly spend the day with him.”