by Jes Young
“I’m glad you came. And thanks again for the postcards. I’ll get them back to you as soon as I can.”
“You should keep them. I know Rivers would rather have been writing to you anyway. She loved you, you know; you were a sister and a best friend combined. She used to say that all the time.”
I blinked away the tears that welled up in my eyes.
“Trudy!” Nina sang out. “Come on Allison, it’s time to go.”
*********
Just after dark the next day George Appeared out on the back lawn. We’d just had supper and Alex was washing the dishes. I was sitting behind him on the counter holding the dishtowel and trying to give the impression that I was about to get to work on my half of the job, drying, when what I was really doing was a combination of day dreaming and checking out his butt. I intended to let the dishes drip dry.
One minute the yard was empty and the next there was an intense ball of light hovering above the ground. I hopped down from the counter and went to the window. The ball of light grew larger and larger until suddenly it was George.
“I can’t wait until my Elf powers kick in.” I mumbled under my breath as I watched George walk slowly across the yard. He was moving at a snail’s pace, favoring his right leg. At first I thought he was carrying something but as he got closer I could see that his arm was in a sling.
Alex walked up behind me and pulled the dishtowel from my hands; he snapped the towel at my butt.
“Look at George,” I said, ignoring the light sting. “Why is he limping?”
Alex looked out at George, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Don’t unlock it until you’re sure it’s him.”
“Who else would it be?”
“Just wait until he’s on the porch.”
Up close, my usually handsome cousin looked even worse. The right side of his face was bruised, the eye swollen shut. His lip had been split too; a little blood was spattered across the front of his shirt.
“What happened to you?” I said, opening the door to let him in.
“Nothing.” He went to the fridge, took out the milk, and drank it right from the carton.
“You look horrible.”
He couldn’t manage his usual rakish grin, but he tried. “You should see the other guy.”
Obviously George had no intention of giving me a straight answer. I couldn’t figure out why he was being so evasive. I thought we’d gotten pretty close over the last few months. I expected him to tell me what had happened.
Alex folded the dishtowel and hung it up over the sink to dry.
“Did They do this to you?” I asked.
George took another long sip of milk. He shook his head, saying, “No, it wasn’t They. Would you tell her it’s nothing? I mean, I got into a fight, obviously, yes. But it’s not serious. I’ll be better by morning.”
Alex seemed satisfied with this answer. He nodded once and turned to me. “George says not to worry.”
I rolled my eyes at him then turned my attention back to my bruised and battered cousin. “But you don’t fight.”
“Not for fun, not at the slightest little perceived insult I don’t. But when the situation calls for it, I assure you Princess, I fight.” He sounded huffy. Afterwards I realized I insulted him without meaning to, wounded his sensitive male pride or whatever. I wanted to take it back as soon as I said it.
I looked at Alex for help but he didn’t bail me out; he nodded in agreement.
“That’s what I meant. Not that you can’t fight but that you don’t.”
He gave me a curt nod, making it clear that it would take more than a little backpedaling to get into his good graces again.
“Francis asked me to tell you that the scout returned safely but without much to report. They are not obviously preparing to attack. Her report has created stronger resistance among the Generals who were reluctant to go to war in the first place. Francis and Bennett have called Estella in to the Center. They expect her in a day, two at the most.”
Alex nodded but I was confused. “Why? What will she do when she gets there?”
“Francis thinks she’ll break the tie,” George said. “In his favor, of course.”
“The Generals trust her,” Alex explained. “If she thinks it’s a good idea, they’ll all be willing to go. Francis must have reason to believe she thinks it is.”
“But if she doesn’t, there won’t be a war?”
“Oh there will be a war,” George said, rolling his eyes, “because Francis wants one. He wouldn’t have called her in if he wasn’t sure of her. In her absence, her vote counts with the Queen so it was essentially a yes anyway. He wants her to come convince the Generals that it’s a good idea to fight, that we can win now.”
“Can’t we?” I looked from one to the other waiting for an answer.
Alex gave George a look that I recognized as a warning. Apparently George did too because he raised his hands in defeat leaving Alex to explain.
“Going Underneath can be difficult,” Alex said slowly. “There is little light and no sun. We are not meant for those conditions. The Generals are reluctant to subject their troops to those conditions so unless it is completely necessary.”
I wanted to know what George was going to tell me before Alex shut him down. “Do you think we should go to war?”
“You should let him get some rest…” Alex began but I cut him off with a wave of my hand before he could change the subject or distract me.
“Do you, George?”
He was holding a bag of frozen carrots to his face and leaning against the counter in a way best described as pathetic. He shrugged. “Estella will come and break the tie and then We’ll go.”
“That’s not what I asked you. Do you think we should go, yes or no?”
George shrugged again, removing the bag from his lip to say, “What I think doesn’t matter. Hell, you’re the future queen and what you think is only of passing interest to those who get to decide.” He sighed. “I think we will need to fight, and soon, but not now. We’re not ready now and if we lose…the results would be disastrous for our world and for this one too.”
I watched him limp out of the room and then turned to Alex, ready with a million questions. I decided to go with the easiest one first.
“Why can’t Estella just Appear in the Center?”
I caught a snippet of his thoughts, angry ones directed at George: make a mess and then go to sleep as he shook his head and sat down at the table.
“Appearing anywhere in the Inbetween except at the designated points has been restricted as a safety precaution and an enchantment has been placed to ensure it. Until it expires, everyone in the Inbetween travels like…well like a human essentially.”
“Not like a human?” I said, mocking his obvious distaste. “Oh no! The indignity of it.”
“You have no idea,” he said.
I was quiet for a few minutes. I could tell that he was tense, waiting for me to ask more questions. Harder questions.
“Why doesn’t George think We can win a war against They?”
“Because George is a pessimist?”
Wrong.
When you are as handsome and charming as George, life does not give you reason for pessimism. “Actually, he’s always been rather stupidly optimistic. Try again.”
“Is there any chance you’ll let this go?” Alex asked.
I shook my head. “Not likely.”
“I’m afraid you won’t like it.”
“I never do,” I said. “Tell me anyway.”
He sighed. “All right. Sit down.”
This seemed like a bad sign to me. Good news can be taken standing up.
“All the magic of the Inbetween, the true and deep source of it, resides in you. At Home, your connection to the Light is so powerful, it fuels us all. We, sprites, trows, giants – all the hidden people – draw their strength from you. You asked me once what would happen if I stayed in the World. Do you remember?”
“You told me you would become
a normal man.”
He nodded. “But that’s not entirely true. Because I would be with you, the source of all the Light magic in all the worlds, I would retain some of my Gifts. They would be weaker because your power is weaker here in the World but they would still exist. That’s why your guards and your sisters were able to hold on to some of their magics during this exile. But just as your strength has been lessened by your long absence from the Inbetween, so its magic has dwindled without you. We of the Light are not as We once were. Only when you return home to take your place on the throne of Our Mothers will our full power be restored.”
“Is it the same thing for They of the Dark? Do They draw their powers from Daniel in the same way?” Alex nodded. “And he hasn’t been on a twenty odd year sabbatical, has he?”
“They of the Dark have never been as powerful as they are now. It’s part of the reason that putting you back on the throne has become so important.”
“If bringing me home would solve this problem then why am I still sitting here?”
“I wish I could tell you, Princess,” he said.
“But there’s an enchantment, right? So you can’t tell me anything?”
He nodded, looking relieved.
“Does it have something to do with the identity of my father?”
“I’m afraid I can’t say.” I started to turn away from him but he grabbed my hand, turning me back toward him. “This is not how I would have it. I’d tell you everything if I could but Bennett…”
“Save your breath,” I said, stopping him before he could make the usual excuses in Pop’s absence. I was so frustrated by all the half-truths and all out lies, there’s no telling what I would have done if the old man had been home. Murder possibly. Epic screaming match more likely. But anyway it would have been unpleasant.
“If it makes you feel better, we’ll have him beheaded when you officially become Queen.”
“Can I do that?”
His laugh, more like a roar, was loud enough to wake George even though he was upstairs on the other side of the house. I shushed him and laughed too, but quieter.
We sat for a minute before he said, “Would you like to hit me some more?”
“Yes please.”
“Then let’s go, Princess. I’m feeling a bit feisty too.”
Chapter Sixteen
It turned out that Robbin was the one who beat George up.
“He did what?” I yelled.
Robbin never hit anyone; even people who clearly deserved it. George himself had said a lot of rude, annoying, punch-worthy things over the years and Robbin had never, never reacted like that. He was Mr. Even Temper. Mr. Turn the Other Cheek. It just wasn’t like him to act that way; under normal circumstances he never would have. “What did you do to him?”
“Don’t yell,” George said, laying his hand over his bruised face. “It hurts my eye.”
According to George, just as he was getting ready to leave the Inbetween to return to Witchwood Manor he made what he described as an “innocent comment” about the sleeping arrangements. Robbin overheard him and, to quote George a second time, “freaked the freak out.” Then, also according to George, he told Robbin that he was just kidding which only made Robbin angrier. He shoved George, so George shoved him back. Then Robbin punched George and split his lip. Then George, in spite of Robbin’s height and weight advantage, punched Rob in the jaw.
George said, “That’s when things got crazy.”
All that stuff before? The shoving and punching and lip splitting? That was not the least bit crazy. Just so you know.
Then Robbin knocked George to the ground where they wrestled around until Robbin got on top of George and punched him a couple of times.
“I told you,” Alex said, pleased to have a real life example of the lesson he’d been trying to teach me. “Don’t get knocked to the ground. It’s all over once you do.”
I shushed him, impatient to hear the end of the story. “Then what happened?”
“Then Francis and Matthew pulled us apart. Matthew got hit too but I didn’t do it and Robbin said he didn’t either.” George shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.
“What did you say to him?” I demanded. I wasn’t sure which of them I should be angry at yet but I figured this information would settle it for me.
“Nothing so terrible that it warranted a physical attack.”
I frowned at him. “What did you say?”
“I just said that you took really good care of Alex while he was healing.”
There had to be more. That might upset him, but I didn’t believe Robbin would get so worked up over such a nothing statement that he’d have to be pulled off George.
“Tell me exactly what you said. Use the exact words.”
He got up and rinsed out his coffee mug, dithering around at the sink, avoiding my eyes like direct contact with them would turn him to stone.
“George,” I demanded.
He sighed and turned around. But he didn’t come back to the table. He stood across the room, separated from me and Alex by the island; I think he was trying to maintain a safe distance. “I may have said something about you dressing like a naughty nurse.” He mumbled the last part but I heard it. Alex snickered but played innocent when I turned to give him a dirty look.
“Thanks a lot, George. You’re a huge help to me.”
“It was a joke.” He smiled one of his gorgeous bright smiles in an effort to charm me. I remained uncharmed. His tone was all sweetness and apology when he said, “Tab, it was a joke. Come on…don’t be mad.”
I was mad at George, but the truth was I had no one to blame but myself. The whole mess was my fault. I was the one who couldn’t decide, who couldn’t say no or yes to either one of them. Robbin wouldn’t have reacted so violently if I wasn’t making him crazy with all my back and forth, all my “I love you. Now go rescue the man I’m going to marry.” In the old days, George’s stupid comment would have been one more on a pile of many stupid comments, hardly worth getting upset about. But now it must have felt like a twist of the knife I’d plunged into his back.
The thought of being without Robbin was almost physically painful, but the desire to be with Alex got stronger everyday. I woke up thinking about him. I’d find myself rushing to get downstairs to breakfast so I could see him, so I could just sit in the same room with him. I found his habit of stirring his coffee again before every sip endearing. We found reasons to stay together during the day, made up reasons to touch each other. And always there was the electric current of need between us. There were times when I seriously thought I’d die if I didn’t kiss him—that’s how intense it was.
********
Trudy called during her lunch hour with some thin cover story about not being able to find the printer paper; did I know where it was? When I said no, that I had no idea, she got to the real reason for her call.
“I’m falling apart around here without you. When are you coming back to save me from my inability to organize?”
I knew from Nina that Polly in customer service and a teller named Sarah Jane had both gone out on maternity leave within two days of each other and they were incredibly short staffed. Everyone was working overtime until Trudy figured out what to do.
“Soon I hope,” I said tentatively. I knew that was not the answer she was looking for and I felt bad. It was worse because I couldn’t even really explain why I was out in the first place.
“You’ll let me know?” she said.
“As soon as I do. Look, I know you’re short-handed; if you need to hire someone else, go ahead. I won’t be offended. I know I haven’t exactly been a model employee lately.”
She swore she wouldn’t dream of hiring someone else – that I was irreplaceable.
Alex was stretched out on the floor with the newspaper. I don’t think he was that interested in it though; he hadn’t turned the page in a long time.
“Trudy,” I said in explanation as I snapped the phone closed.
I liked having him there. I hated to admit it, but I did. And it wasn’t just the view of his perfect ass encased in dark blue jeans that his position on the floor provided me, although I appreciated that a lot. It was his company; it made me feel good just knowing he was there.
While I gagged on that, the phone rang again.
“It’s Nina,” I said.
“Hmmm.”