Fly Up into the Night Air

by John Houser

  Harte smiled. "You and Hugh seem so easy together. Stilian and I ..."

  "It comes with time." She shrugged. "Or you grow apart and give up."

  "I can't believe that happens to the Canny very often."

  "Really? There is nothing magical about being canny. We lose our way as often as any."

  "But Stilian knows what I'm feeling. I have to guess at him."

  "Harte! Is a cloudless sky beautiful? Phooey. Give me clouds. Rain. Rays of sun bursting through, like a sex after an argument." Harte felt his face grow hot, but Thalia was just getting started. "Do you think Stilian is perfect? That you cannot measure up? Hah! Love is not like that." She pinched the skin on one spotted forearm and shook it vigorously. "We love one another despite our moles. Hugh and I have spent nearly twenty years running schools that are four long travel days apart. Was that perfection? I have had days when I could have eviscerated Hugh just for not being here with me."

  Harte thought out loud. "Stilian is pretty funny when he's drunk--which is too often."

  "Yes, and he drools in his sleep. So what? Get a leather pillow."

  "He has asked me to travel with him, to 'see the world beyond the shire.' I have been thinking that the thaw would be a good time to take a journey."

  Thalia batted angrily at a fly, her face averted. "We have been begging him to come home for two years."

  "I know. But he has so many memories here at Grayholme. I see it in his eyes. We'll be walking past some unremarkable corner, his eyes will lose focus, and he's not with me anymore. He will not talk about it, but I know he still grieves Kit." He looked out upon the greening world. "We will visit. Peli will not forgive us if we do not visit."

  Thalia smiled at him through her tears. "Nor will I."