“Lu?” Fi says, cutting the conversation short before someone can ask what Sean went through for putting a hand on her. “What about our mom? Was there ever a woman with Dad?”
I frown at her and shake my head. “No, he was always alone when I saw him. He never mentioned a wife, either.”
“Never?” Eir asks from the inside of his coffee mug, almost hiding behind it as he looks at me questioningly. “That doesn’t sound like Dad.”
“But Eir,” Fi says before I can respond, her voice a little shaky. She swallows before continuing. “If she were gone, he probably wouldn’t want to talk about her.”
Eir looks skeptical and I pull my lower lip between my teeth. “I asked him once,” I say, and all three sets of eyes shoot back to me. “He was so worried about you two and wanted to get out and get back to you, and I asked if at least his wife was with you.”
“And?” Flint asks when I pause.
“He, um…he said that wasn’t a good topic and changed the subject.”
Fi pulls in a sharp breath and looks away from me. Flint reaches forward and rests his hand just above her knee, giving it a small squeeze, and she reaches forward and holds it between both of her trembling ones. “I think that means she’s really gone.”
Eir shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. He’s pale, even lighter in color than usual, and I keep an eye on him for a minute; worried reality will settle in and he’ll pass out. He leans forward, sets his coffee back on the table and puts his head in his hands, and I almost have to sit on my hands so I don’t touch him. “I’m so sorry,” I say quietly, meeting Fi’s eyes.
Fi doesn’t say anything for a moment; just stares off into a dark headspace no one should have to be sucked into. She pulls in a deep breath and Flint presses a kiss to her ear in a comforting manner. “It’s not your fault, Lu,” Fi says firmly, but her eyes shimmer with tears.
I don’t respond. I may not have caused bodily harm to their mother or father personally, but it was my family who took them. It was my family who separated them, and who possibly killed her mother and had her father locked away in a windowless cell I knew all too well. I look down into my coffee when Fi looks at Flint for sanity. I don’t want to intrude on their private moment.
The silence gets Eir’s attention and he picks up his head; looking at his sister before turning his head to meet my eyes. “Can you tell us anything about where he’s being held?” he asks, his voice soft and quiet.
I let out a relieved breath for the break in silence and nod my head yes. I have no good news to share with them, and I’m sure the truth will leave nothing but more discomfort to settle over us in a thick cloud, but what else can I tell them? “He’s on the lowest level, beneath even the basement,” I say, refusing to use my brother’s term for it — The Dungeon. “No windows, and the guards rarely go check on people down there.”
Trying to picture it is a bad idea. I’ve been down there a lot, and I hate to admit, most of the time not by my own choice. There were never many others down there. Most prisoners were kept in the basement and not subjected to the isolation and cold temperatures. The two human girls who shared a cell closer to the stairway when I was down there had shrunk to just one by the time Patrick arrived. There was also a little old man who always prayed every night, but he wasn’t muttering anymore when the other man arrived, and I had to worry that something happened to cause that.
Mentally looking around, I take in the familiar scene and describe it aloud; telling myself I am sitting on an old couch with three people who aren’t going to hurt me or lock me away in a cell, never to be seen again. Even thinking about that pit gives me horrible anxiety. “There’s only one way in and one way out, and it’s nearly impossible to get in there without alerting a guard, let alone get back out with a high priority captive in tow.”
The muscles in Fi’s neck flex in tension and I see her struggling to take in a breath. Eirnin still looks mildly doubtful of the topic of discussion, but he plays along anyway and asks, “So us trying to get him out would be a suicide mission, then?”
I nod at him. “Yes. I snuck down there a lot to visit him, but now I don’t know if I could walk back out without someone getting hurt.”
Fi’s eyes lock on her brother and she sniffles; pulling in a huge breath and letting it out in one quickly uttered statement. “I don’t know how, Eir, but we’ll figure something out somehow. I don’t know when, but…” She swallows and opens her mouth to continue, but can’t get any more words past her lips. Flint removes his hand from hers and wraps it around her shoulders to pull her against his side and she rests her head on his shoulder, her long dark hair concealing her face from view. Flint whispers in her ear, gently reminding her to breathe and that everything is going to be okay. Fi nods jerkily a couple times, but otherwise makes no moves or sound.
Eir drops his head back in his hands, and this time I don’t restrain myself. I extend an arm and knead my fingertips against his spine and feel the tension in his back ebb, if only a little. “There has to be some way we can get in there,” I say slowly, almost too quiet to be heard through the stress-filled air.
He lifts his head about an inch away from his hands and looks over at me. Those ocean blue eyes seem to go straight into me, and I feel my mouth go dry. He studies my face for a moment, even though I get the feeling he already knows more than he should, and slowly reaches his hand out to take mine. It practically vanishes and I once again internally groan over my minute size. “We’ll talk to Seamus,” he says, “and see if he has any ideas.”
I nod to him and Fi pulls in a ragged breath, straightening just enough to look back at us. Her face is dry but her eyes are rimmed red from holding in tears over this information. I’m idly calling myself selfish for wondering what it’s like to have a father worth giving a damn about when Fi asks, “Lu, do you know anything about where they caught him?”
Her tone implies slight disbelief and shock that her father could ever be captured. After chatting with him a few times I agree with her. He was certainly not a stupid man, and the way he was brought in would suggest pure ignorance. “Officially, I have no idea,” I tell her. “I have no solid evidence.”
Fi’s head tilts to the side at the slightly dry answer, and Flint asks from behind her hair, “But?”
I bite my tongue for a moment and wonder if I should really say. It’s quite an implication, and like I just told them, I have nothing solid to support it. But I’ve opened the can of worms now, haven’t I? Eir gives my hand a reassuring squeeze as if he senses my insecurity and I slowly let out a breath. “Off the record…I think he was set up. He pretty much walked right into their hands.”
All the color drains from Fi’s face and her grip on Flint’s hand increases so much his eyes widen in surprise. I see her trembling from where I sit, and as Flint hooks his arm tighter around her waist, she utters a small, “Oh, no.”
“Fi,” Eir says firmly; putting his ice blue stare to her forest green eyes. “Don’t do this to yourself. It was not your fault.”
Something cold grips at my chest and I immediately want to suck the words back inside my mouth. I would never in a million years imply Fi had anything to do with her parents’ capture or death. “I-I didn’t mean…” I begin, but Flint shakes his head at me, silently telling me there is another reason for the guilt and misery in her eyes.
Fi shakes her head and sinks down into Flint’s chest; her shaking hands moving to fist in her hair. Flint bends at the waist and her eyes shoot toward him. He murmurs something I can’t quite make out and she nods her head jerkily, seeming to relax slightly when he starts massaging her knee. Her eyes are shining with tears when she clamps them shut, and Eir slowly looks at me and asks, “Do you remember when they brought him in?”
I look at him and see his eyes are pleading, and immediately I know he is trying to give Fi the illusion of privacy. We must have the same loathing for crying in public. “Um…” I say, elongating the sound to stall, “August o
f last year.”
Eir offers me a small, almost saddened smile. “Okay,” he says. “I, uh, I just wondered.”
I see Fi’s eyes shooting back and forth like she’s reading something; her tongue sticking out of her mouth as she thinks very deeply about something. I hear her mutter, “August, September, October,” while her fingers tap against her head, and then her eyes snap up and she blurts, “They were feeding him, right Lu?”
All the blood rushes out of my head and I faintly feel Eir’s hand touch my shoulder so I don’t fall right off the couch. “No,” I murmur. “I was feeding him.”
On more than one occasion I slipped into the kitchen and took whatever my older brother or sister was bossing the chef into making for their lazy asses, and brought it down to his cell. I had him hoarding bottles of water so if I couldn’t make it down there every day he wouldn’t parch, and every time he told me not to do it again, that he didn’t want me getting in trouble on his behalf. I never listened, and he never denied a meal, and the reason for that is because no one else was offering him anything.
Fi turns a light shade of green and bends to put her head between her knees, and Flint immediately starts rubbing circles on her back as he tries to shield his own distress from view. For once, Eir’s expression matches hers, and he covers his mouth with his hand as I blurt, “B-But he seems important to my father, so they won’t let him starve down there. I’m sure they’ll take care of him.” I am grasping at straws and everyone in the room knows it, but what else can I say?
Eir makes a kind of choked-off sound, but he still tries to reassure his sister. “If they’ve kept him alive for this long, they must have a reason. They’ll feed him, Fi.” But the doubt in his voice hangs in the air, and Fi can’t even force a nod.
Flint has both his hands on Fi. His fingers are working against her spine and shoulders in an attempt to ease some of the tension building inside her. “Lu, do you have any idea what they wanted from him?” he asks, hoping I will have some sort of good news.
I shake my head at him. “I don’t. Possibly information of some sort?” I offer. “Though Father will swear up and down he doesn’t believe in any rebellion, so I don’t have any idea what he could want.”
Suddenly Fi yanks in a desperate gulp of air, like she’s been underwater for a full hour and just now came up to breathe. Her hand comes free of her hair and she reaches out for Flint, who slips off the couch and kneels down in front of her. She grips onto his shoulders so hard her knuckles turn white.
“So we have more questions and fewer answers,” Eir says softly, as Flint’s hands cover Fi’s cheeks. I squeeze his hand while the Kitsune works to maintain eye contact with his girl.
“I know it’s gruesome, but no one will kill him so long as they need something from him.” Flint seems to direct the words to both Dolan children, but he keeps his eyes on Fi’s face at all times. “We’ll get your dad back.”
Fi nods and slowly lowers her head and closes her eyes; still gripping Flint’s shoulders as she slowly breathes in and out, trying her damnedest to calm herself down. Eir pipes up again. “Fi—Flint is right. We will get Dad back. We’ll figure it out.”
Fi doesn’t move this time. Flint’s hands rub her calves and her breathing evens back out. Her eyes are far away and her cheeks are blotchy and uneven; only some blood returning to her brain. “Do you need to get out of here?” Flint asks softly, concern plain in his voice. “Take a walk, get some fresh air?”
“No, no. I’ll be okay,” she insists, her voice a bit shaky and hoarse. “I just feel a little nauseous.”
“Fi, why don’t you go lay down for a bit?” Eir suggests; trying to see his sister’s face over the spiky mess Flint calls hair. “We can’t do anything right now.”
She looks like she’s about to protest and I decide to throw my two cents in, even though no one asked. “Eir’s right. You need to relax for a while.” Her eyes shoot from her brother to me, and then back to Flint, and she doesn’t look happy that we’re all ganging up on her. She lets out a puff of air and traces her fingers over Flint’s jaw. “I’ll go lay down if it will make you guys feel better,” she says, and presses a kiss to Flint’s cheek. “But I’m taking you with me.”
Eir coughs and I bite my tongue so I don’t giggle. There is a definite smirk in Flint’s voice when he says, “You won’t get any argument out of me.” Fi flushes deeply and ducks her head in embarrassment.
Eir drops his head and pretends to vomit on his shoes. Flint, completely ignoring him, shifts to his feet and pulls Fi up with him, keeping her pressed firmly against his chest. “Come on, love, let’s go lie down for a while,” he says quietly into her hair, and immediately leads her out of the room. She waves at me and Eir as he murmurs, “Feel better, Fi,” before she disappears behind the wall, and a few seconds later we hear a giggle.
“Behave yourselves!” I cry after them, and Eir snorts. When I look back at him he is smiling broadly at me, and I straighten up in anxiety. “What?” I ask.
His smile only gets bigger. “What, what?”
I try to narrow my eyes in a playful way, but only end up smiling back at him. “What are you beaming at?”
“I’m beaming at you, Lulu,” he says matter-of-factly. “You said what I was thinking.”
Something about that makes my heart stammer a little in my chest, and my cheeks begin to ache from the strain of my grin. “Oh yeah?” I say brilliantly. “I read your mind?”
His face is still split and he’s showing off his almost too-perfect teeth as he nods his head. “Yep — looks that way,” he teases, and then his eyes travel to the place where his sister disappeared. “I’m really glad Flint and Fi found each other. She needs him,” he says almost absentmindedly.
I nod my agreement and follow his gaze to the empty stairway. “He needs her, too,” I add with a shake of my head. In my honest opinion, they are the true definition of a perfect couple — even with the minute of denial. “Oh, they’re just so adorable, I can’t stand it.”
Eir laughs beside me and my head snaps back around to look at him. If he keeps getting my attention this way, I’m going to give myself whiplash. “You’re pretty cute yourself,” he says, and the words are almost immediately followed by a slightly choked sound as his cheeks flush with color.
Heat builds up and spreads over my cheeks and neck, and I’m pretty sure even my ears have taken on the reddened hue. “You think so?” I blurt stupidly and force myself not to punch myself in the mouth. Why can’t I just accept a compliment? “Thank you, Eir.”
He looks surprised by my question and studies me for a moment before nodding again. “You’re welcome. And yes, I do think so.” He winks at me and must sense I have to pinch myself so I don’t giggle like some hormonal school girl, because he clears his throat and changes the subject. “Thank you for helping me distract Fi earlier.”
The sound that comes out of my mouth isn’t human or Fae, and it is by no means normal. “What?” I squawk at him and look back down at the ground; feeling the blush deepen in color and make its way down my chest and over my shoulders. My God, one compliment from a pair of pretty eyes and all of a sudden I’m a chipmunk? “Oh!” I try again, my voice coming out a little more even. “Um, yes, yeah, I um… Heh, I read your mind again.” You really are a dolt, I mentally hiss at myself. “Can I ask…what had her so shaken?” I inquire; deciding to shift the conversation to anything besides me being ‘cute’.
His ever-present smile falters and he looks down at his knees. “Oh.” He pauses for a moment, debating with himself how much to tell me, and quietly says, “There was this guy who came through here with the market people over a year ago.” His jaw tightens and his lower lip juts out a little; remembered anger coursing through him. “He acted like he was interested in Fi romantically, and it was his ‘tip’ that my parents were following when they left. And since Fi believed him at first she feels responsible, even though she didn’t know he even spoke to our parents about anythin
g until they were leaving.”
My smile leaves the room in a hurry with this new information and I shake my head. “She mentioned something about him, but I didn’t know it went that far, though.” I shake my head. “God, poor Fi.”
Interestingly enough, Eir looks surprised that I’d heard about this fine young man who is in dire need of a swift kick in the genitalia. “He was a douche,” he says, sighing. “He…he changed her.”
“That’s horrible,” I say quietly, feeling deflated. Poor Fi has been nothing but bright and kind to me the entirety of my stay here, and the thought of someone making her miserable makes my heart hurt.
“It was horrible to watch,” Eir agrees, meeting my eyes. They linger on my face for a while, and I swear he took a look at my mouth and it made him clear his throat. “She’s much better since Flint got here though,” he suddenly continues; looking down at my hands. “And you. Not quite like she used to be, but she’s getting there. You two have helped her a lot.”
That lifts a bit of the weight from my chest, but it’s impossible not to notice the way he’s left himself completely out of the process. I remove my hand from my lap and touch his forearm, giving it a gentle shove. “You’re part of it too, you know.”
His eyes are wide as they stare down at my comically-tiny hand on his arm, and his cheeks turn a soft shade of pink. “Yeah,” he agrees absently, a grin cracking his features. “I suppose I am.”
“You’re a huge part of it, Eir,” I say, giving him another smile. “I’m sure she’d be lost without her baby brother.”
I almost expect him to get defensive over the term ‘baby’ anything, but instead he actually puffs up in a prideful manner and beams. “I’d be lost without her, too.”
I bite my lip so I don’t do something stupid like tell him he’s cute. He seems pretty comfortable around me, and the last thing I want to do is make him think I’m some kind of freak who thinks about kissing him all day — which I don’t, mind you — not all day, anyway. Sometimes I’m sleeping. And other times I am thinking about food. Look, it’s not my fault he has good genes, okay?
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