Flare Shifter

by Erin MacMichael

  “Run!” he screamed as the saur’s head appeared right behind her. He raced down the alley, listening intently, and was relieved when he heard the woman’s light footfalls bounce off the surfaces of the narrow passage after him. The beast pounded angrily against the wall next to the entrance, screeching its displeasure, but its gargantuan frame was too large to follow and its assault stopped all at once as the shouted commands from the Torg herded the animal on to closer prey still running in the street.

  Ryder came to a halt at the far end of the alley and surveyed the empty street in front of him. The saur’s manic bashing had resumed on the street behind them, but nothing on this unlighted block stirred. “We’ll keep to the back alleys as much as we can,” he said in low tones as the tiny woman came up beside him. She gazed up at him with wide, questioning eyes and he stared back wordlessly before moving out into the street. There would be time enough for answers when they got back safely to his apartment.

  They set off at a run, working their way through the desolate streets and back corridors of the ruined district, skirting piles of rubble and keeping to the shadows. Only once did they see another figure scurry and disappear into the rear entrance of an abandoned building. Thankfully the woman didn’t speak, but he could feel her eyes questing over him many times with the same probing intensity he had felt when she had trailed him earlier. He knew his elderly appearance didn’t match his agile movements or quickened pace, but his primary concern at the moment was getting them both out of this hazardous neighborhood and safely off the streets.

  The sunlight was long gone and Ryder kept a vigilant watch on the starlit sky overhead for any sign of the flying lizards. He was certain the beasts were already out on patrol and was surprised that they hadn’t yet seen any sign of the loathsome creatures during their flight through the neighborhood. As if conjured by his thoughts, the muffled sound of leathery wings beating against air broke over their heads just as they reached the wide, open avenue stretching northward to the artisan gate.

  “Damn it,” he swore under his breath, flattening himself quickly against a building and motioning for the woman to do the same. His eyes darted to the sky and caught sight of the dark brown beast as it glided over the gate in the high white wall at the end of the street and disappeared. He waited, straining his hearing for any further movement from above.

  “The doors are already locked,” he whispered to his companion. “Watch what I do and follow me.”

  After a few minutes of tense listening, he broke into a run across the cobblestones, and as he neared the gate, he hurled himself directly into the heavy iron doors and shifted into mist at the moment of impact, allowing the momentum to carry him through the crack to the other side. He rematerialized in the darkness and turned in time to see the woman’s figure reform right next to him in the shadows under the stone archway.

  Winded, Ryder stood and waited so they could both catch their breaths, holding himself still when a saurian cry echoed somewhere in the distance followed by the faint answering call of another.

  “Ok,” he said softly, “we should be safe for the moment. They usually only fly two a night.”

  The woman nodded and they stepped out from the dark archway, walking side by side up the gradual incline through the hushed, affluent quarter. The streets were completely empty and still. Other than the illumination from an occasional streetlight that still worked, not a flicker could be seen that might give away which of the silent buildings held occupants.

  They reached his street of lofty townhouses without any further sign of the fliers and Ryder veered into the narrow walkway to the back with a sense of relief mixed with dread at the prospect of confronting the woman about her actions. She surprisingly hadn’t bolted during their journey and he wondered what kind of story she’d concoct to cover her motives. He unlocked the front door with shaking hands and stood aside to allow the small housekeeper to step through into the dark apartment.

  As soon as the door clicked shut, Ryder fell back against it and let out a long, frazzled breath. “Would you kindly turn on the light?” he asked quietly.

  The woman stepped over to the chair and reached for the lamp. Warm light filled the small flat as she walked straight over to the curtains, yanking them taut across the window, confirming his suspicion that she had been the presence outside peering in at him the night before and had seen him in his true form.

  Ryder watched her nervously from the doorway. She fussed with the drapes and turned back around, regarding him with a penetrating look. The left eye no longer wandered and she seemed quite a bit prettier than he remembered—straight, grayish hair typical of Algolians surrounded a doll-like face, and there was a pleasing curve to her feminine form beneath her dowdy clothing.

  “Why have you been following me?”

  The woman dropped her eyes and a rush of color bled into her cheeks. “I … I’m sorry, I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t know much about you or whether I could trust you, so I ….” Her voice trailed off as she studied the floor.

  He was baffled by her words and momentarily caught off guard, but the question that had been burning in his chest burst out of him all at once. “Who do you report to?” he demanded with a sharper edge to his voice.

  Her eyes flew up while her brow furrowed with confusion. “What? Report—?” Her features contorted with shock as she grasped his meaning. “No! It’s not like that—I’m not spying on you!” she declared, shaking her head in vehement denial. “Is that what you thought? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to threaten you. I would never do anything to hurt you or anyone else!” She frowned miserably, looking at him with bleak resignation and the same sadness he had seen shadowing her eyes before.

  Ryder collapsed against the door and heaved a silent sigh as the worst of his fears dropped away. There was one way to be absolutely sure she was telling the truth, but he couldn’t bring himself to touch her to find out. Thankfully, he believed she didn’t mean him any harm and from her disconsolate expression, she appeared to be quite upset that she had frightened and most likely alienated him.

  “You can stay here for the night,” he began, taking a few steps into the kitchen and tossing his keys onto the counter.

  “Thank you,” she replied in a small voice. “You’re the first person who’s done anything to help me since I got here. I don’t know anyone in Tessin.”

  “You don’t live in the city?” he asked as he stripped out of his jacket and slung it over the back of the chair at the table.

  “No, I’m from Cullen.” When he blinked and shook his head, she hurried to elaborate. “It’s a small village in the mountains, several days west of Tessin out in Silverloch Province.”

  Ryder nodded, contemplating her words. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might be a stranger to the very bizarre terms of living in the capital. It went a long way in explaining her wariness as well as the touch of loneliness he sensed about her. “What’s your name?”

  “Kea—Kea Lachlan.”

  “I’m Ryder,” he stated just as his stomach decided to rumble loudly. He raised a hand to his stomach and lifted his brows in humble question.

  A hesitant smile hovered around the corners of her mouth. “Yes, I made you something—take a look.”

  He motioned for her to be seated in the lone chair at the kitchen table. “Come, sit down. I'm sure whatever you prepared will be enough for both of us.” He stepped over to the counter and found a covered basket of rolls as well as a pot of soup simmering on the stove. When he lifted the lid, the heady aroma of its contents rolled up into the room. “Oh my god, split pea,” he murmured, having a dim recollection of tasting it sometime in the past.

  After ladling out two servings and piling rolls around the sides, Ryder placed one of the bowls on the table in front of Kea and took his own dish over to the living room where he propped himself on the arm of his chair facing her before digging in.

  With the first spoonful of soup, he paused and closed his eyes, stru
ck again by the savory flavors of her cooking. “Ummhh,” he grunted in appreciation, bringing another small smile to Kea’s face.

  “You like it?”

  He nodded as he shoveled more scoops of the hot deliciousness into his mouth.

  “Good, I’m glad I could do something for you,” she said in a hopeful tone. “There’s only so much I can clean around here and you don’t seem to have much laundry. With all the money the guild gives me to take care of you, I thought the least I could do is make you some good meals.”

  Ryder privately wondered about “all the money” the guild gave her, knowing the funds for the so-called privilege of her services were added on to the sizable monthly tithe he was charged by the guild and that in all likelihood, very little of it made its way into her pocket.

  “I’ll give you extra money if you need it—for groceries,” he added, not wishing to embarrass her, but at the same time wanting her to keep cooking.

  She shook her head shyly as she watched him dip the bread into the soup and bite into the soaked roll. “Thank you, but no, what I’m given is enough. It looks like you really worked up an appetite out there,” she said before the smile dropped off her face.

  He caught the undercurrent of guilt in her voice since she had been the reason behind his perilous sojourn after sundown. “Your building got quite a beating tonight,” he stated around mouthfuls.

  “I know,” she replied, shivering at the thought of the traumatic experience with the raiding party. “I’m just glad I wasn’t in my room when the saur hit the windows. The one I’m renting is on the top floor in the front which is probably why it was so cheap. I’ll have to go back tomorrow and see whether it’s even still livable, and if it isn’t, I’ll have to find a new place.”

  “I wouldn’t stay there,” he advised as he bit into another roll. When she looked at him in puzzlement, he added, “They’ll just come back. The reptiles are predictable, if nothing else.”

  “I see,” she stated softly, watching him again with renewed speculation. “You seem to know a lot about them.”

  “I deal with them every day,” he commented, unable to keep the disgust out of his voice.

  “I was told you were a master goldsmith, that you run your own studio and have other jewelers working for you.”

  “Um-hmm,” he nodded absently, mopping up the soup with his last bite of bread.

  “So why do you live in such a small flat?” she asked candidly. “Why not one of those big, beautiful houses, like the ones up front on the street?”

  Ryder stopped chewing and nearly choked at her abrupt turn of thoughts. He looked up, regarding her warily before he answered. “Privacy.”

  Kea tipped her head to the side, giving him a calculating appraisal.

  “Why did you come to Tessin?” he asked quickly to divert the young woman from probing any further into his affairs.

  Her delicate features twisted with pain as she dropped her eyes to her barely touched meal. “I’m searching for my family.”

  “Your family?” he croaked, staggered to encounter anyone who actually had living, surviving blood relations.

  “My mother Ilánn and my older brother Stani were captured about three weeks ago in Cullin. I’m sure the Drahks brought them to Tessin after the raid, so I came into the city to find them.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ryder offered in a low voice. “Kea, they could be gone by now, sold off-planet, or even—”

  “I know,” she answered gravely. “But I can’t live without knowing what happened to them.”

  The silence in the room stretched into long minutes as Ryder left her to her thoughts. After some time, he set his empty bowl on the side table next to the chair and stood up.

  “You can sleep in the bedroom,” he stated awkwardly. “I'll sleep out here. I'll be gone early in the morning … before you get up.”

  Taking her cue, Kea rose noiselessly from the table and glided past him toward the bedroom doorway. She hesitated and whirled back around, appearing for a moment as if she had something compelling to say. “I just thought … maybe—" she began, raising a shaking hand and making a tentative move in his direction.

  With a closed look, Ryder took a step backward.

  Kea dropped her hand immediately and erased all emotion from her face. “Thank you for your kindness tonight. I deeply regret causing you so much trouble,” she whispered and disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

  Ryder rubbed his tired face with both hands and collapsed into his chair, running his fingers through his shaggy, windblown white hair before letting his head fall back onto the upholstery. There would be no relaxing or changing into his own form tonight, but the woman would be gone by the time he got home tomorrow night and he could repair the pieces of his well-crafted solitude. She had refrained from speaking about what she had seen the night before and he was enormously relieved that she wasn’t the threat he had feared her to be.

  At the same time he was profoundly uncomfortable having her stay in his private space for the night. This sad, lonely female was … strangely alluring. Ryder squirmed in his chair, unable to find a comfortable position. In spite of his mental and physical exhaustion, he stayed awake for the longest time thinking about the tiny woman in the next room before finally dropping off into disquiet slumber.

  The featherlight touch of a hand across his hair brought Ryder abruptly out of sleep. Confusing images of a young man and a woman in a Drahkian transport tore through his mind, and he was besieged by an avalanche of grief—her grief—which rolled into his system past all of his control.

  Ryder bolted out of his chair as if he had been touched with a live wire. He twisted around in shock to see Kea’s hand hovering over the back of the chair where his head had just been and found her gazing up at him with aching, raw need.

  “Why?” he shouted roughly, pressing his right arm up against the sudden pain in his chest.

  Kea’s eyes welled with tears which spilled down her face. “I just needed someone … I miss them so much,” she managed to say as she started to sob and reached a trembling hand toward Ryder with an unspoken plea.

  “I can’t do this!” he exclaimed, warring with a sudden rise of his own shattering emotions which he did not want to experience. He was terrified of what would come up if she touched him again and gaped at her outstretched hand as if it were a snake ready to strike.

  Defeated, Kea pulled her arms in close to her body and slumped, weeping miserably. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she mumbled brokenly.

  Ryder stared at the small woman standing in front of him. Her fragile frame shook and she cried as if she would break in two. He hadn’t asked for this, but, for whatever reason, here she was in the middle of his protected space, alone and hurting, reaching out for comfort—from him. Unbidden, the buried memory of being rocked by his father’s strong arms washed through his muscles, along with forgotten feelings of their deep connection, loving reassurance, and solace.

  Slowly he loosened his stance and stood still, forced himself to breathe, and, with a supreme effort of will, let go of his death-grip on the aging facade, allowing the transformation into his natural form to sift through his cells. He lowered his arm away from his chest and held a shaking hand out in front of him. “Alright, come here.”

  Kea lifted her face and her iridescent eyes widened as she took in his appearance and saw what he was offering. With a small cry, she stepped forward and took hold of his hand.

  As soon as she touched him, the floodgates opened again and he tightened his grasp on her tiny hand. “Oh my god,” he groaned as he was bombarded by a deluge of difficult feelings, this time hers mixed with his own. Slowly he pulled her into his chest and reached down to surround her with his arms as she sank against him and cried.

  For a moment, he was overcome with dizziness from the full body contact, but he clung to her small frame to keep himself upright until the moment passed. Cradling her closer, he bent down to lay his face against the to
p of her head while he struggled to make sense out of the jarring sensations crashing through him—fear, shock, and the pain of sudden separation swirled around the two images he had already seen before dissolving into despair, hopelessness, isolation, and aching loneliness. He pulled in a choked breath as the loneliness grew until it filled his whole chest, his whole body, threatening to burst out and take on a life of its own. His father’s face appeared in his mind, as plain as day, staring down at him with tormented eyes on the morning he disappeared, followed by the terrible, hollow grieving that had haunted him for years. The sting of tears rushed to his eyes and fell silently in streams into Kea’s hair.

  Kea’s slid her arms around his waist. “Oh, no, you hurt, too,” she said in a muffled voice against his chest. “I feel it—it’s so deep.”

  Ryder responded by tightening his arms around her slight body. It was like holding onto a lightning rod, draining away the built-up charge of painful emotions lodged in his tissue for far too many years. The longer he held her, the easier it became to handle the flow of images and feelings that ran between the two of them.

  “Ohhh, I really needed this, Ryder,” Kea murmured into his shirt. “It’s been so hard the last few weeks. I’ve never been without my mom and Stani. I felt so helpless watching the Drahks haul them away. I’m afraid I’ll never see them again.”

  Ryder reached a tentative hand up to Kea’s head and was startled by the feel of satiny softness gliding under his palm as he gently stroked her hair.