by Lincoln Law
“I believe that now is the time for us to strike. Now is the time for us to prepare for war. We have waited over twenty years to gain an army strong enough to take down the Oen’Aerei. They have grown weak and lazy in their time without opposition, with our group only able to harry them from afar. But we are an army now, well and truly, and I believe with utter conviction that we can face these monsters head on. Now is the time to gather our rank and to prepare to march.”
That statement was met by roars of applause, and cheering and foot-stomping. The ground shook with the force of the support. The war would come quickly. And he would be there at the front line, leading his troops into battle.
It stoked a fire in his heart and brought a smile to his face. Down with the Oen’Aerei, down with the Somnetii, and up, up, up with the Dreamless.
Rhene lay restless in bed, unable to get comfortable in any position whatsoever. First, he’d been too hot, at which point he’d opened his window. Then, he’d gotten too cold, forcing him under the covers. But there was too warm, leading him to rest with a foot sticking out the bottom of the bed, and his head resting on his arms as he stared towards the ceiling.
General, he thought. I’m going to be a general!
His mother and father would have been so proud, were they here to see him. But they were gone, and even he could not bring them back.
The night his parent’s died came to him as clearly and brilliantly as if he was seeing it again for the first time. His parents tucked him into bed. They kissed him and wished him a good night and sweet dreams. But there would be no dreams that night. Not sweet ones at least.
Screams had stirred him. Like a fish pulled up by a fisherman, Rhene suffocated as he emerged from his dream, unable to breath for the shock. There had been a smell in the air in the dream. Cologne of some kind. He remembered that much clearly enough.
The screaming had come from his parents’ room, and he’d gotten out of his bed to check that they were okay. Only five at the time, the shadows of the night held monsters, so he kept to the parts of the hallway illuminated by the moon as to avoid the monsters. He had not known that monsters could hide in one’s own mind, too.
He stopped before his parents’ room, the door shut. He knew not to go in if the door was shut, but when people screamed, he assumed that rule could be broken. He’d opened the door and found his parents on the bed, lying on their backs, facing the ceiling.
“Mama, papa?” he asked, as he stepped further into the room. A bedside candle was lit, but the light seemed odd. Darker. Redder.
He pulled himself up onto the bed, beside his father, whose eyes stared into the distance, his chest punctured by a knife-wound, blood dying his pyjamas. A quick glance at his mother, and he saw she was much the same.
He could still see the depth of the cut so clearly in his mind’s eye, and the bruises around her wrist from where she had fought. Having grown older, a part of him wondered whether thought bruises were from a slightly different fight, but he did not wish to remember his mother that way. He needn’t know what her last minutes of life contained. She was gone, and when the police had investigated, they found an Oen’Aerei involved. They could see no other way. A Sturding had found his way into the house, caused what damage he could, before leaving through his own mind.
Yet that scent still remained, so memorable. So painfully strong. It was like shaving cream; that smell, but muskier. And there had been music. A lullaby of some kind, though he’d tried his best to forget that haunting tune.
In his thinking, Rhene had not noticed he’d fallen asleep and begun to dream. He dreamt of night of his parents’ death, of the scent and the music now oddly clear.
No, he thought, feeling oddly lucid. I do not want to see this.
And it disappeared. He was elsewhere, in the city, and in amongst the crowd he saw faces he recognised. There was Ferrant, though he seemed entirely out of place screaming about a fire. There were other odd things about this dream. He felt like the edges, if he went towards them, would disappear, and he’d find himself elsewhere entirely. And he did not know why.
Rhene felt an odd sense of fear in his stomach as he saw Matthon walking amongst the crowd.
“I don’t think I want to be here,” he said, and the city faded, and he was in darkness. The people disappeared, the sights, sounds and smells fading. All but one.
Matthon was still there, and he seemed entirely shocked at the disappearance of the scenery and the people. He looked about, confused, and saw Rhene.
“Rhene?” he said.
“Matthon?” Rhene replied, though Matthon was already gone, lost to the shadows.
“Matthon!” Rhene repeated, following after him. As he expected, the boundaries of the dream blurred and he found himself in another scene. It was a meadow, and in it, two people lay. Rhene ignored them, for Matthon was there, too. It seemed the couple had decided to ignore them both, too.
Rhene, Matthon mouthed. A tense pause passed between the pair, and then Matthon turned and disappeared again. Rhene considered following, but thought better of it.
A strange, tripping sensation caught him, and he felt like he was falling. He was torn from the dream, woken in his room, and thrown against the wall by a figure shrouded in shadow.
Chapter Nine
Begin Again
“I’ve never been on a date before,” Adabelle said, as she stood over her bed, staring at all of her dresses.
Charlotte stood beside her, biting her thumb in thought. “Well I suppose it isn’t something that happens every day.”
“Yes, but what should I wear?”
She felt silly, going on this date. She was still waiting to receive a letter from Rhene with the time and place of the date, but she wanted to be prepared. She didn’t even know how well she was meant to be dressed! Would a nice summer dress do, or did she need a ball gown? So many questions, so many silly thoughts, and all of them about a boy.
“You’re overthinking it,” Charlotte said, crossing the room to seat herself on her own bed. “You need to stop worrying. He wouldn’t have asked you out if he thought he wasn’t interested.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Adabelle said, not without some hesitance.
“So there, stop worrying. You’re being silly.”
Adabelle quickly glanced over the dresses, wondering whether she ought to get a haircut, too. It was getting quite long. But she could manage it! Couldn’t she?
“I wish mama was here,” she whispered. “She’d know what to do now.”
Charlotte didn’t seem to hear her, as she said nothing in response. Adabelle turned around, to find her staring out the window. It seemed despite the cloud cover, the sun still managed to shine through. Her comment gave Adabelle an idea, though.
“I’m going to visit Mrs. Abeth,” said Adabelle, pulling a blue coat off a hanger in her wardrobe. “She might have an idea.”
She walked brusquely down the hall, not really watching where she was going when she bumped into Mrs. Abeth.
“Just the person I wanted to see,” they both said in unison, and then laughed. Mrs. Abeth had a note in her hand, and proffered it to Adabelle.
“Telegram arrived this morning,” she said, smiling knowingly.
Adabelle read it.
Adabelle,
If you would like, we can go for dinner tomorrow night, and then I want to take you to one for my favourite spots. If you would like to do this, please reply. I’ll collect you from the University at 7. Dress warm.
Rhene.
“So who’s the boy?” Mrs. Abeth asked, in an entirely too girlish voice.
“You read it?” Adabelle asked, slightly hurt.
“Well, yes. While you’re in danger, I think it’s only safe to do so. It is in your best interests.”
“True enough,” Adabelle replied, shrugging.
Mrs. Abeth stood there expectantly, while Adabelle folded the letter.
“Well?” asked Mrs. Abeth.
“Oh, who
is he? His name is Rhene and he comes into the café on occasion.” She paused. “I don’t think I know much else aside from that.” She took a moment, sweeping her memory. “Oh, he’s very handsome.”
Mrs. Abeth laughed, rolling her eyes. “Well so long as he’s handsome,” and then she chuckled again. “So why did you need to see me?”
“Well it’s about the date. I don’t know what to wear.”
Mrs. Abeth stepped to the side of the hall, to allow for some students to pass. She leaned slightly against the wall, thinking. “Well he said wear something warm, but on the same hand, you want to look pretty. Um…you have that yellow dress, don’t you?”
“Yes, but it’s a summer dress. He said dress warm!”
“Well what about that blue coat you have. The double-breasted one. Those…and a hat.”
Adabelle’s brow furrowed. “But it will be night-time.”
“But everyone looks good in a hat. The white one with the pink ribbon. That one. Besides, you don’t have time to get your hair done, so you might want to hide that mess somehow.”
She had a fair point, Adabelle thought, reflexively reaching up to touch the lengths of black.
“Wear that and he’ll fall for you straight away.” Mrs. Abeth smiled, nodding, apparently quite proud of her decision. “Now I’m sorry, but I really must get back to work. Lots to do today.”
“Thank you,” Adabelle said, watching as she left the other way down the hall.
The morning after, she went to work in the café, though Rhene had apparently decided not to go today. He didn’t show up for his lunch, or even for a coffee. Her and Georgette spent most of their time at the steamer, watching people bustle in and out, constantly working. Between busy spells, when they found a chance to breathe, Georgette asked hypothetical questions about the date that night.
“If you go somewhere you don’t like, do you still eat the food?” she asked, as she powdered a coffee with cocoa.
“I don’t know,” Adabelle replied, eyes glancing about the air, as she deliberated that possibility. She’d never really considered that before. She really wasn’t that well prepared.
Georgette handed a cup to a waiting customer, bidding him a good day. “And what about if he turns out to be horrible, and you can’t get rid of him.”
“We’ll face that conundrum when we meet it,” she said, quietly considering Rhene’s character. He seemed like such a fine young lad; she really doubted that he’d turn out to be a bore, or horrible. She imagined a gentleman, who was kind and caring, and a good kisser, too. She’d never been kissed before. She wondered whether she’d be any good at it. She felt herself blush at the thought, pushing aside any of those notions, both out of embarrassment and out of a desire to stifle any expectations. If she had none for the night, then she wouldn’t be disappointed.
She wouldn’t have minded a kiss goodnight, though. That would have been nice.
“And if he takes you back to his house?” she asked, whispering a little so as to avoid customers hearing.
Adabelle fumbled with the coffee grinder, unable to stop her eyes from widening as large as they did. She returned to the grinding, silent. Perhaps if she pretended she didn’t hear, she wouldn’t have to answer.
“Well?” Georgette stopped with her steaming milk, waiting expectantly.
“I don’t think that would happen,” Adabelle said. “Besides, never done anything like that. I don’t think I’m ready.” Her breathing suddenly became laboured, her face turning hot. “What if I do, though?” She slammed the grinder on the bench, drawing looks from everyone around her. “Oh, God,” she whispered, “what if he does?”
Georgette’s gaze moved from Adabelle to the customers, and then to Ben, who was eavesdropping from the counter. Adabelle looked from Georgette, and turned slowly to the customers. Most of them had returned to their lunch, but a handful were staring.
“Is she okay?” asked a woman at the counter, presently handing over a handful of notes.
Ben, who was unusually sober in his response, said, “She’s got a date tonight. I think she’s nervous.”
“Ben!” Adabelle snapped.
“Well you do,” Ben laughed.
“But they don’t need to know that!” She threw a gesture at the people seated at the table, keeping her voice low enough to remain unheard.
Then she saw him, at the very front of the line. Rhene. He was smiling at her, his dark hair slicked back. His shoulders were welcomingly broad, like they screamed to be embraced, his arms just the right length to wrap all the way around her and keep her safe and warm. He had shaved today, his jawline clean and smooth. It made him look younger than he had appeared previously.
She realised she was staring, and quickly returned to winding the crank on the grinder.
“How are you today, Adabelle?” he asked, moving from the register to a space on the other side of the steamer machine.
“I’m am well thanks, Rhene. You?”
“Good, good,” he nodded, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “Are you…erm…excited about tonight?”
“I am, thanks.” Her discussion with Georgette from earlier ran through her mind suddenly, forcing out a question. “Where…are we going?”
“Now, now,” he said, smiling coolly. “I can’t give away that. It’s a surprise. Just dress warmly.”
She thought about the dress at home, and the coat. “I have a dress and a coat…will that be enough.”
“Quite enough,” he laughed. His gaze moved from her eyes, to the steamer machine and then to the floor, all in quick succession. He appeared to be sweating a little. Was he nervous? No! He couldn’t be!
“Well I’ll go grab a seat before I lose one,” he said, leaving her to sit by the window. He again faced the counter, but unlike last time, he kept his gaze on Adabelle. She brought his lunch over, sitting it before him with a sweet smile.
“There’s an extra pot of the chutney there for you,” she said, pointing at the plate. “I know you like it. I’ve noticed you nearly always finish it before all your meal is done.”
He glanced down at his plate, smile widening. “Oh, thank you. That’s so nice.”
Adabelle just giggled, perhaps a little too loudly. She then settled herself, nodded, and returned to her station.
Well saying you watch him eat only sounds slightly stalker-ish I suppose, she thought, replaying the exchange in her mind.
She watched from afar as Rhene ate his lunch, apparently not as hungry as usual. He left some of the salad behind on his plate. As he rose, he called out, “I’ll see you tonight,” before leaving. Adabelle waved in reply.
“So that’s your date?” asked a voice from behind. Adabelle leapt in surprise, nearly dropping the coffee grinder again.
It was Anna. “He’s quite nice, isn’t he,” she said.
“Anna! Erm…yes. He is. Thank. You.”
She wished people would stop making her fumble.
“If I were twenty years younger…” she said, leaving the thought for Adabelle to finish. She then returned to her little office out the back.
She finished her work for the day, rushing home on the tram so as to get ready for her date tonight. She hoped it wasn’t too late a night; she had Larraine’s funeral tomorrow afternoon, and she had to get Aunt Marie from the hospital. It was rare a patient in her condition would be allowed to leave, but in cases like this, it was allowed.
She reached into her wardrobe, pulling out the yellow dress. It was a golden, sunshine yellow, like dandelions, and the coat a deep ocean blue. She bathed, washing her hair, and brushed it out. She dried, dressed and picked out a nice, comfortable pair of blue velvet shoes, to match the coat. She then donned the cloche hat, white with a pink silk ribbon around it. She stood before her mirror, head tilted to the side slightly, as if warping her orientation helped to take in all of her outfit. She looked quite pretty, really, the yellow bringing out the brown of her eyes, the darkness of her hair.
A knock at t
he door shook her from her self-examination. She called out, “Who is it?”
“Mrs. Abeth,” replied the housekeeper. Adabelle rushed to the door, pulling it open.
Mrs. Abeth’s eyes widened at the sight of Adabelle, her gaze passing up and down, grin broadening all the while.
“You look…beautiful.” She hesitated, taking a step in the room. “Just like your mother,” she whispered, tears flowing to her face. “I wanted to bring you this,” she said, lifting up a small, crystal spray bottle of perfume. The name had long rubbed off, the air pump faded and scratched with age.
“What is it?” she asked, taking it from Mrs. Abeth.
“It was your mother’s favourite perfume,” she said. “You can’t get it any more, but I’ve been able to save this. It hasn’t gone bad, somehow.”
Adabelle sprayed it, sniffing the air. The slightly familiar, strangely nostalgic scent smelled of vanilla. It was warm and welcoming and sweet, and with each breath she took, she saw he mother more clearly. The fabric of her dress as she embraced her close when she was scared, the tickling touch of her ebony locks as she’d lean down to kiss her goodnight, her loving goodbye as she left her on the steps of the University.
“Mama,” she whispered.
“She’d like you to wear it,” Mrs. Abeth said, closing the door. “She’d be so very proud if she could see you now. You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman.”
Adabelle blushed, her cheeks turning warm. “Thank you, Mrs. Abeth. That means so much.” She gripped the perfume close to her heart.
“Well good luck tonight,” she said. “I hope he’s a gentleman to you.”
“I’m sure he will be.”
Adabelle waited outside the University, feeling odd just standing there on the corner of the street, hands over the small handbag hanging over her shoulder. The wind had softened with the oncoming of evening, but the coat was a welcome addition what with the gentle chill of the Odilla night.
A black cab pulled up on the other side of the road, and Rhene stepped out of the passenger’s side onto the sidewalk. He rushed across the road, dressed in a blue shirt and brown trousers, tucked in with a brown belt. The shirt fitted nicely, revealing just enough to make Adabelle feel fluttery inside, and somehow insufficient for this man. Why her? There were so many other better-looking girls. What about her excited him?