by Crook, Amy
They all laughed at that, and Alex introduced everyone to everyone else while they sorted who got what in their coffee and endured the requisite stick jokes about his new cane.
“You seem to be recovered from your sleepless night, anyway,” said Lapointe, amused at their antics.
“Thanks,” said Alex. “I actually got a lot of sleep, in between things trying to kill me.”
“Technically,” said Smedley, “only one thing tried to kill you. The sprite just tried to steal your jewellery, and the mantis went after Armistead.”
“Ooh, he must be all right, though, I’d have heard him whinging,” said Lapointe.
Alex laughed, delighted. “How is it that he’s unpleasant and you all hate him, but I’m unpleasant and the waitress thinks it’s charming?” he asked, only half rhetorically.
“You bribe us with good coffee, and you have a sense of humour, even if it’s a bit weird,” said Smedley, sipping his own cup with a blissful expression.
“That still doesn’t explain the waitresses,” said Lapointe. “You should see it, shop girls, too. It’s like they just can’t fathom that he’s queer.”
“Perhaps they’re out to cure you,” said Geoff dryly.
Smedley chuckled. “He’s incurable, though fortunately it doesn’t appear contagious.”
“So what sort of thing tried to kill you?” asked Lapointe, her usual determined self already back.
“Scorpion,” said Alex. “I smashed it with a frying pan and Smedley carted the parts back to Armistead.”
“Who was holding off the mantis with the box he’d pulled it out of and a long-handled lighter,” said Smedley. “I actually did get to rescue him.”
Alex laughed delightedly. “I’m a terrible damsel in distress,” he said, “just ask Murielle.”
That got them started in on the funny stories, and the Guardians even chimed in, having determined the Agency was safe enough for conversation, at least in a room with the door closed. Jones had taken his leave after dropping them off, so Alex just stayed and relaxed while they waited for the car to return and take him back home to the work waiting there.
It would be soon enough to exhaust himself all over again.
~ ~ ~
The flat was welcomingly quiet when they got back and, sensing that Alex was about done with talking after everything, James and Jacques just made tea without being asked. Once Alex was flopped on the couch and they were all in possession of a cup of tea, he said, “So, pizza first, then warding?”
The Guardians laughed, and Jacques shook his head. “I’ll cook us something, your brother got actual food when they went out shopping.”
“Actual food?” said Alex dubiously. “What does one do with that? Who do you tip?”
They laughed at his joke, and it was warm and friendly and good, an extension of earlier, which is just what Alex needed. He did sometimes grow tired of always feeling like an outsider, and those small things that signalled “home” were just what he needed before setting up fresh wards on his flat.
Alex showered again while Jacques cooked, donning what he thought of as his Ritual Pyjamas, a set of unbleached raw silk trousers and tunic that he’d have to make sure not to spill any dinner on. He belted on a perfectly ordinary dressing gown to help with that, and emerged from his rooms to an absolutely exquisite mélange of odours. “I own spices?” asked Alex, looking confused as he took a seat at the kitchen table.
“I brought my own mix,” said Jacques, who was just now plating the food, chicken and vegetables in sauce over rice that seemed very exotic to Alex despite knowing intellectually it was a pretty basic sort of food to cook. “It’s got some herbs in it for strength as well as flavour.”
“Jacques’ cooking is sought-after even among the Guardians,” said James, looking very smug to be the recipient.
“If it tastes anything like it smells, I can see why,” replied Alex, taking another deep inhale, eyes closed to better appreciate the scent. When he opened them, there was a plate in front of him and a Guardian sat on either side. They toasted with simple water, then dug in and ate with gusto.
It was, Alex thought as he sat back and rubbed his fully belly, rather nice to eat with people who understood about expending magical energy and needing food to replace it. “If I wasn’t about to spend hours doing magic, I’d say you were going to make me fat,” he teased.
They laughed, and Alex left them, sitting at his writing desk to gather his thoughts. He wrote Julian back first, purging that worry from his mind as he did, reassuring and accepting the date, asking teasingly what Julian might like for a gift this time. He gave Horace a nice long petting once the letter was locked away, just sitting there and thinking of his home and his magic, and listening to his own wards, hearing the tiny disharmonies that had formed.
Jacques cleaned up and James Guarded, but they were quiet and good at fading into the background, and so Alex had no problem cataloguing and dismissing them along with the rest of his fears. After he let Horace go out the kitchen window, Jacques watching the whole time, Alex found a nice big pair of tuning forks, choosing them for their low, soothing notes. He struck them together against the table and began walking through the flat, his watch-fob in the hand with the tuning forks and his cane in the other, listening to everything there, every little snippet of melody and otherwise that lived in his flat.
They found a tiny piece of the scorpion under the fridge that way, and James called and arranged for it to be retrieved tomorrow, producing a small strong-box of his own to hold it until it could be entered into evidence. The cold iron shackle from the sprite went into the same box, as well as the contaminated items from the curse, Alex’s pocket handkerchief and keys. The jacket had lost all trace of contamination, hanging isolated in Alex’s little shielded cupboard for more days than he cared to count, so it went instead to the side of the closet reserved for items going to the cleaners.
Nothing else was out of place magically, and Alex actually tucked everything away physically as well, all the detritus of Courtship put away in jewellery boxes and then, finally, he limped his way back into the living room and set up a meditation pillow. “No talking until I’m done with this bit, please,” he said, getting nods in return.
He found a position that was comfortable with his leg still not fully recovered and meditated properly, letting himself dwell on all the things bothering him in order to dismiss them, the violation of the Temple, the intrusion in his flat, the cleaner and the Guardians. He let go of his worries about family and future, let go of his worries about Julian and Mandeville, the case and the danger, and finally found a place of balance inside him, that tiny bit of inner sanctuary he could call home.
He opened his eyes and sighed, then stood up, the cane grounding him, helping him hold onto that chord inside him. He nodded to the Guardians, then limped back to his work room and retrieved the fine silver flute that was one of his most expensive magical possessions, despite being utterly unmagical. Silver was neutral and conductive, holding very little magic on its own but passing things through itself pure and unaltered. He pulled it out of its case, checked for tuning and cleanliness, then limped back to his pillow.
“It won’t matter if you talk during this, I won’t hear you, but don’t interfere unless I actually fall over, okay?”
“We know how it works, Mage,” said James with that dry amusement of his, making Alex’s nature into a title much like his own.
“Just making sure,” Alex teased back.
Alex tucked his little watch-fob into the waistband of his trousers so it would rest against his skin, then got comfortable again, with the cane across his lap, the steel tip against the floor for grounding. Then he focused on the wards he already had, humming softly to tune into them, before picking up his flute and using it to rebuild them into the wards he needed. He played his will and his magic into the tune, the flute itself capable of a very simple two-note chord which he used to his advantage, first drawing in the magic he’
d already put there and then replacing it with newer, stronger, tighter melodies, adding to the magic and building with it. He played for over two hours, not even stopping when it came time to do the bedroom wards, though the ones on the work room he left alone.
Those had taken days and a lot more power than he currently had at his disposal, and were still as strong and impenetrable as they day he’d cast them, as far as he’d been able to tell on his walk-through.
When he was done, Alex sagged on the pillow but didn’t fall over, using one hand to brace himself while the other held the flute in a cramping grip.
“Drink this,” said Jacques, who had apparently been hovering nearby. The tea he offered had cooled a bit from brewing, but that meant Alex could readily gulp down the herb-laden brew, one he recognised from his own cupboards as a mild restorative. “Do you have any potions?”
Alex chuckled, handing back the empty cup. “Sleep will do me better, and some sweets. Another cup of that tea and a slice of cake would be wonderful.”
“Will do,” said Jacques, looking impressed, though by what Alex wasn’t sure.
Feeling restored enough to be going on with, Alex levered himself up with the cane and took the flute back to his work room, giving it a quick purifying clean before nestling it into its case with a soft murmur of thanks.
The tea and cake were consumed with single-minded intensity, and it was all Alex could do to switch to more normal — and comfortable — pyjamas before falling into bed, exhausted all over again.
~ ~ ~
In the morning, Alex was lured out of bed by the lovely smells of breakfast cooking, and he shuffled out with his hair a mess, wearing his robe and slippers. “Some of that for me?” he asked, the start of the sentence mostly lost in a big yawn.
Jacques grinned. “Oh, yes, you need the calories, we’re having omelettes today, and James went out for pastries.”
“You two are saints, are you sure I can’t keep you?” said Alex, mostly teasing, though really, he was starting to feel very spoiled. He sat, leaning heavily on the cane on the way down, and gave his new wards a little probe, whistling softly to activate the status-spells he’d built in this time around. “Quiet night, anyway.”
Jacques grinned. “Your new wards are very good, even James was impressed.”
Alex looked sleepily pleased. “It was worth the expenditure of energy, then, though this means I’m definitely not going to be conjuring another magical gift for Julian.”
The door opened, and Alex felt the whisper of wards as James came in, the key-spell letting him in but the new wards keeping an impression of his entry. “Cinnamon rolls for everyone, and double for our busy mage,” said James cheerfully, opening the box and putting two on a plate, then handing it to Alex along with the cup of tea Jacques was just done pouring.
“What am I doing today again?” asked Alex around a mouthful of sweet. He washed it down with tea, then answered his own question. “Back to the Temple to finish being purified, then the tailor, then shopping. Ugh, and we have to take your little box of ickies back to the Agency.”
“Jones texted me directly, the Sharpish boy will be taking over for Victor so he’s ours for the day,” said James.
Alex chuckled. “You’re all managing me now, how will I stay infamously unpleasant if you keep me happy in my little cocoon?”
“Somehow,” said Jacques, delivering a plate with a steaming-hot omelette to James, “I think you’ll manage. Finish your rolls, you can have the second one.”
Alex chuckled and ate obediently, feeling life return as the caffeine and sugar hit his bloodstream. Maybe today wouldn’t be too awful after all.
~ ~ ~
They actually let him start at the Temple this time, breakfasted and showered and dressed, he felt about a thousand times better, and he was both embarrassed and relieved to see Guardians at the Temple entrance, who greeted his pair with warm familiarity.
“You’ve managed to get him out of the hospital,” said one with a grin.
“Just as long as we keep him from going back in while he’s here,” replied Jacques flippantly.
Alex felt, if anything, even more jumbled than when he’d gone in the last time, but even so he was weirdly grateful when James and Jacques stripped off into their own lockers. “I’ll go first,” said James quietly, his voice full of reverence for their surroundings, “then you, then Jacques.”
“All right,” agreed Alex. He blushed a little to shed all his clothes, feeling like a skeleton next to the two fit young men, skinner then ever from the hospital and fish-belly pale.
Jacques chuckled. “You have the look of a dark romantic hero, all pale and brooding,” he teased.
“I’m not the one who took a vow of celibacy,” teased Alex right back, as they all locked up. “After you,” he said, gesturing to the same blue archway as last time.
“By all means,” teased James, though it was clear he thought they were being a bit too silly for the occasion. He headed off into the room, leaving the two of them to sit around in the altogether and wait for the chime.
Rather than continue their banter, Alex and Jacques settled onto benches by the archway and watched as James immersed himself in the cold, mineral-laden water. Every movement spoke to Alex of a real dedication to the Temple and the purification and solace he was receiving today, and Alex was glad he’d decided to come back and finish what he’d started. He was still reflecting on that gratitude when a chime sounded, and James moved off to the next room, leaving the pool for Alex.
The ritual was soothing for Alex this time, even though he wondered as he lowered himself into the pool how difficult it had been for them to get all of his blood out of the tile. It was very quiet, floating under the surface of the mineral water, and somehow the sting of salt wasn’t as bad this time, a mere distraction to the peaceful surcease from outside magic.
The rest of the purification went just as smoothly, Alex letting go of his worries and coming out the other side calm and relaxed. He’d somehow come to terms with his increasing infatuation with Julian, and decided on several other things that brought all the pieces of his current life into as much harmony as possible.
Once he was dressed, he sat down and sent a few texts off to get things in order while they waited for Jacques to finish up. Alex had emerged to find James dressed and chatting with another Guardian, so he didn’t feel too guilty for ignoring them a bit longer.
“Where to next?” asked Jacques, looking cheerful as ever as he came out of the green archway and went to unlock his locker, unabashed in his nudity.
“Lunch with Fauna,” said Alex, “then the tailor for my coat, the couturier for more clothes, and then off to my favourite plant nursery for some supplies.”
“When did you get roped into lunch with your sister?” asked James, amused, waving as the other Guardian left to resume his duties.
“She texted me the reservations while we were busy,” said Alex, amused. “It seemed easier not to fight it.”
“At least it’s not both of them,” said Jacques, in a tone that implied he’d been subjected to the pair of them while Alex was unconscious.
“One at a time, they’re not so bad,” agreed Alex. He stood when Jacques did, all three of them dressed and ready, and they headed out the front door where the car was waiting.
Alex tried not to let it bother him that he was already getting used to it.
~ ~ ~
Lunch wasn’t too torturous, and Fauna tagged along to both tailors afterward to offer her opinions and once again try to get Alex to wear pink. In the end, he allowed himself to be bullied into getting a single pink shirt, which he would only wear with black and even then only in dire circumstances, not that he admitted to the latter.
Horace caught up with him when they left the second tailors, and Alex went into the nursery with the mechanical bird riding happily on his shoulder, occasionally toying with his hair or nibbling at his ear in an affectionate manner.
“Alex Ben
edict, you’re moving up in the world,” said the proprietor fondly. Mary Margaret Stone was a solid woman comfortably in middle age, her hair greying and figure spreading and her not worried about it one bit. “I saw you in the paper! For a moment I thought you were dead, but it was just the photo.”
Alex laughed and hugged her, careful to keep Horace on the other side. He wasn’t sure how the bird would take to being manhandled by a stranger. “It’s good to see you, too,” he said. “I need your help for a little surprise.”
“Ooh, the best sort. Would this be for your young man, then?” she asked, bustling over to where there was an electric kettle behind the counter and filling it all the way up in the rusty old sink while Alex followed her around like a devoted cat, though he did try not to get underfoot.
“Of course,” admitted Alex readily. He told her his idea while she made a pot of tea for the lot of them, pausing to introduce his quiet Guardians so they could be asked how they liked their cup.
“It’s not very traditional, but it’s very you,” she said, amused. “I’ll help, of course, I think I have everything you’ll need. Can your boys be counted on to carry things or do I need the cart?”
Alex was glad that James just looked amused at the designation. “We ought to keep our hands free, but we can push the cart for you,” offered James. He and Jacques had been less than thrilled by this choice of stops, the big glass nursery not half so well-warded as the Temple.
They spent a good hour wandering around the nursery, chatting and drinking tea and getting all the things Alex would need. She was very impressed when he used Victor’s credit card to pay off not just today’s purchase but the small tab he’d run when he came in last and had been too busy to line up and pay, and instead had scarpered with his goods and texted her a photo of what he’d taken.
Everything was loaded into the trunk of the car, and they dropped off clothes and plants alike at his flat, and collected the little box of contaminated items to take to the Agency.
“Let’s go get coffee first, I’m starting to wear thin,” said Alex as they pulled up in front of the imposing building.