Magic and Loss: A Novel of Golgotham

by Nancy A. Collins

  Up until that moment, the thought of leaving Hexe had not crossed my mind. But now that the subject had been broached, there was no banishing it. I went into my studio and stared out the window that overlooked the street. I could see Hexe trudging away from the house, fists jammed deep into the pockets of his coat. At this time of night there was only one place he could be headed: the Stagger Inn.

  Chapter 20

  As I stepped out of the elevator, the only things I noticed about the hallway were that it was very long and that there was no way to tell one doorway from another. The entire apartment building was also very quiet, which was to be expected at a quarter to four in the morning, and the sound of my footsteps and the clickity-click of Beanie’s toenails seemed incredibly loud in comparison. After a few moments’ search, I finally found the apartment I was looking for—marked by an adhesive sticker shaped like the Loch Ness Monster pasted just below the peephole drilled in the door. I set down my suitcase, tightened my hold on Beanie’s leash, and pushed the doorbell. A minute or two later a decidedly disgruntled male voice, still thick from sleep, spoke from the other side.

  “Who is it? Don’t you know what goddamned time it is?”

  “It’s me, Adrian—Tate,” I said, standing back so that he could see for himself through the peephole.

  “Who is it?” asked an equally sleepy female voice.

  “It’s Tate.”

  There was a sudden rattle of locks and deadbolts being turned, followed by the door opening. Vanessa stood in the tiny foyer of her apartment dressed in a faux leopard-skin bathrobe, with her bright red hair sticking out in every direction. Standing behind her was her husband, Adrian, dressed in a pair of pajama bottoms and armed with a T-ball bat.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, already reaching out to pull me inside the apartment. “Has something happened?”

  “I left Hexe.”

  The control I’d held over my emotions from the moment I packed my bags and allowed Octavia to escort me to the taxi stand opposite the Gate of Skulls finally dissolved into a torrent of tears.

  “Oh, sweetie—I’m so sorry!” Vanessa said as she slipped her arm about my shaking shoulders and steered me from the front door and into the living room.

  As I let go of the leash, Beanie trotted ahead of me and jumped up onto their couch, making himself immediately at home by burrowing under the throw pillows and falling sound asleep. “I’m sorry. I should have called first, but I wasn’t thinking straight,” I managed to apologize between sobs. “Oh, God, Nessie, what am I going to do?”

  “You’re going to sit down and tell me all about it,” she said solicitously.

  “Oh, Nessie, it was so horrible—Hexe came home munted and we got into this terrible fight about money—”

  “He was whated?” Adrian frowned. He had set aside the T-ball bat and was standing off to the side with the same awkwardly consternated look on his face that all men get when the women around them begin to weep.

  “He was messed up on some kind of Kymeran drug,” I explained. “The next thing I know he’s screaming at me about money, and then things got out of hand. . . .”

  “Did he hit you?” Vanessa asked, her voice suddenly hard as flint. With her bright red hair and her flashing emerald green eyes, she reminded me of one of Golgotham’s leprechauns rolling up his sleeves in anticipation of a fight.

  “It got bad, but not that bad,” I replied quickly. I reflexively touched my upper arm as I spoke, but since I had changed into a long-sleeved shirt, neither Vanessa nor Adrian could see the bruises. Although I had made up my mind to walk out on Hexe, part of me was still trying to protect him.

  “It would have to be drugs, wouldn’t it?” Vanessa replied, with a shake of her head. “I mean, Hexe worships the ground you walk on! I can tell it by the way he looks at you, how he talks about you to others when you’re not around.” She leaned forward and took one of my hands and gave it a squeeze. “Look, I know this looks like it’s the end, but it doesn’t have to be. Before Adrian and I got married, we had a couple of big fights; I mean, real doozies. I almost called the engagement off over one of them. But after we gave each other a little space, and cooled down, we realized even though we drive each other crazy now and again, we couldn’t live without one another. Sometimes you’ve got to get shit out in the open for a relationship to grow, even if it hurts.”

  “I know that, Nessie.” I sniffled, wiping my eyes with one of the tissues Adrian handed me in an attempt to be supportive while staying out of the way. “I love Hexe so much it hurts to think about him not being in my life. But this isn’t about just about me, and what I want, anymore,” I said, placing a protective hand atop my belly. “It’s like I’m watching him fade away while being replaced by someone I don’t know. I can’t stay in that house while he’s like that. And I certainly can’t bring a baby into that kind of craziness.”

  Adrian shuffled into the living room, carrying a blanket and a bed pillow in his arms. “I’m going to crash on the sofa, and you can share the bed with Nessie,” he announced, stifling a yawn. “It’s a queen—you should have plenty of room.”

  “I’ll do no such thing!” I replied, taking the bedclothes from him. “I’ll sleep on the sofa—you go back to bed with your wife. I’m pregnant, not made out of glass. Besides, I wouldn’t subject Beanie’s snoring and gas to anyone unprepared for it. I think it’s actually against the Geneva Convention.”

  Since both Adrian and Vanessa had to get up to go to work in the morning, neither was in the mood to argue the situation, so they retired to their bedroom and left me to make a bed for myself on the sofa. As I went to the bathroom before turning in, I could hear their voices conversing in low tones. Although I could not make out the words, I knew they were talking about what to do about me.

  I stretched out as best I could on the couch and Beanie snuggled in close against me, pressing his sleek little body against my swollen belly. Even though it had been weeks since the last time Hexe had slept alongside me, I still missed the heat of his body and the sound of his breathing. The thought of never waking up to find him in bed beside me again made my heart ache as if it were being torn apart with hooks. I remembered the cold, distant look in Hexe’s eyes and the sneering, ugly tone of his voice as he spoke barbed words full of venom, and how he seemed to take a perverse delight in saying things that shredded my self-confidence and self-worth. I tried to think of the last time I was genuinely happy, and my mind went back to the Jubilee, when he won a stuffed monkey wearing a plaid tam-o’-shanter for me at the Hit the Cats booth.

  As the sights and sounds of that moment flooded my memory, I experienced what felt like a small, sharp kick in my midriff, followed by a second, slightly less enthusiastic bump. Beanie snorted in disgust and moved toward the foot of the couch, clearly resentful of having his beauty rest interrupted by a rumbaing fetus. I closed my eyes and pretended that Hexe had his arms wrapped about me, and that it was his hands, not mine, clasped across my belly, feeling our wondrous, nameless child-to-be tapping on the walls of his world, as if in search of a secret passage. The tears built until they turned my vision into a watery blur and spilled from the corners of my eyes.

  • • •

  The sound of movement in the room started me awake. I opened my eyes and frowned at the unfamiliar bookcases and coffee table before remembering where I was. I could hear Adrian and Vanessa moving around in their galley-style kitchen as they prepared breakfast before leaving for the day. Adrian taught Art History at NYU, and Vanessa worked for a pet cremation service, both designing and throwing custom pottery urns for dearly departed four-legged friends. Beanie hopped off the sofa and went trotting off to investigate upon hearing the toaster pop. I guess he missed the old breakfast routine as much as I did.

  Stifling a yawn, I shuffled into the kitchen, to find Beanie standing on his hind legs in front of Adrian, eyes focused on his strawberry toaster pastry as if it were the Holy Grail. “Good morning, li’l guy!” Adrian laugh
ed. “Do you want a Pop-Tart?”

  “Damn it, dog!” I exclaimed, with a clap of my hands. “Get out from underfoot.”

  “Sorry,” Vanessa said as she poured a dollop of soymilk into her morning coffee. “We didn’t mean to wake you up.”

  “That’s okay,” I replied. “Normally I’m up and out of the house even earlier than this. I guess I was more exhausted than I realized. I almost feel hungover.”

  “Once Adrian and I leave for work, you’re welcome to crash in the bedroom,” Vanessa said. “Feel free to make yourself at home while we’re gone.”

  “Thanks, Nessie, Adrian—you two are really great for putting me up at such short notice.”

  “Are you kidding?” she grinned. “It’s going to be awesome! I’ll buy some ice cream and microwave a bag of popcorn, and we’ll stream a cheesy horror movie on Netflix—it’ll be just like college!”

  “Sounds wonderful,” I agreed.

  “See you after work!” Vanessa promised as she and Adrian hustled out the door and into the world beyond.

  The moment the door closed behind them, I sprinted to the bathroom, barely making it in time before vomiting what was left of the previous evening’s meal. I wasn’t sure if my nausea was just another bout of morning sickness or a delayed reaction to everything I’d gone through over the last ten hours. Once I felt better, I walked back into the living room and stared at the rumpled sofa. Vanessa and Adrian lived in a newish tower block, and by New York standards their seven-hundred-square-foot apartment was fairly spacious, but after living in the boardinghouse I couldn’t help but feel claustrophobic.

  I unplugged my phone from its charger and called Canterbury to tell him I was taking a couple of sick days.

  “Morning sickness, eh?” the centaur chuckled. “Well, that’s to be expected. Just tell that man of yours to look after you. It’s the least he can do for getting you pregnant.”

  I laughed and assured him I would do just that. I didn’t like lying to Canterbury, but I wasn’t comfortable airing my dirty laundry just yet. Nessie was one thing—she was the closest thing I had to a sister, and we had seen one another through more than one Bad Breakup in the past—but unburdening myself on my boss and business partner was something else entirely. As it was, the logistics of commuting to work while trying to find a new place to live, on my salary, whether in or out of Golgotham, was enough to make me lie down on the floor and stare at the ceiling in surrender.

  I started as my phone began to play the opening guitar lick to Heart’s “Magic Man.” That was Hexe’s ringtone. I stared at the caller ID for a long moment before finally hitting the accept button. He sounded hungover. “Tate—? I can’t find Beanie. I’ve called and called, but he won’t answer . . . and I found this weird note from Octavia, saying she’s moving out, like, immediately.”

  “Beanie’s with me, Hexe,” I replied, trying to sound calmer than I actually felt.

  “What’s he doing at Canterbury’s?” he asked, genuinely baffled.

  “I’m not at work.”

  “Then where are you?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “Tate, what’s going? Does this have something to do with the door to your studio?”

  Now it was my turn to sound confused. “You don’t remember?”

  “Remember what?”

  “You came home munted on Dragon’s Balm last night. You were mad at me because I confronted you at the Highlander about stealing money from the baby stash to get smoked up. Then you went mental when I said you needed to get rid of the gauntlet. If Octavia hadn’t stopped you, I don’t know what would have happened after that.”

  “Wait—what are you talking about?” he asked in a perplexed voice. “I’ve never set foot in the Highlander.”

  “Heavens and hells, Hexe!” I shot back angrily, no longer able to hide my frustration. “I was there! I saw you smoking Dragon Balm! Lying about it is not going to make me change my mind.”

  “But I’m not lying!” he said with a plaintive wail. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “Oh? And I guess you don’t know anything about Lafo cutting you off at the Calf because you were picking fights with his customers, either?”

  “Lafo said that?”

  “Stop it, Hexe!” I snapped. “Whatever game you think you’re playing—just stop it! I’ve tried to be understanding about everything. I know you’re going through hell, but I just can’t stay under the same roof with you after last night. If it was just me, maybe things could be different . . . but it’s not just me anymore. . . .”

  “What are you trying to say—?”

  “I’m telling you that you’re what happened to the door, Hexe. That’s why I left and took Beanie with me.”

  “I . . . I . . . did that?” He gasped.

  “Hexe, I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I do know it has something to do with that damned thing Moot put on your hand. You need help, baby—you need to get rid of the gauntlet before the curse on it turns you inside out.”

  “Please, Tate—whatever I did, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again—I promise. Just come back home. Please, don’t do this to me. I love you, Tate.”

  At that moment he sounded so much like the Hexe I used to know, the one I fell in love with and came to trust, I was afraid my heart was going to split in two from the pain it was enduring. “And I love you, Hexe; more than I’ve loved anyone in my life.” As I spoke those words, my throat grew tight and tears fell with every bat of my eyelashes. “You once made me promise you I wouldn’t run into any more burning buildings while I was pregnant—well, that’s exactly what you’re asking me to do right now. I want to come home, but I can’t, not as long as you’re still wearing the gauntlet.”

  “Please, Tate. Don’t do this to me,” he begged, his voice wavering. “I don’t want to lose you and the baby!”

  “I don’t want to lose you, either—believe me, walking out of that house was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I can’t live with you while you’ve still got that thing fused to your right hand. I just can’t take the risk.”

  “Please, Tate. You don’t know what you’re asking of me. . . .”

  “I’m hanging up now, Hexe.”

  I hit the END button and set the phone aside so I could wipe my eyes and collect myself. Within seconds “Magic Man” started playing. I stabbed at the REJECT CALL, only to have it start to play again. I snatched up the phone and powered it down. I needed time to think, to decide what to do. As I stared at the cramped confines of Vanessa and Adrian’s apartment—barely big enough for a newlywed couple, much less an indefinite houseguest, a bothersome dog, and eventual newborn—I realized I should not impose any further on their lives. Although I might eventually be able to find a place in Golgotham, that meant placing me in dangerously close proximity to Hexe. I wasn’t afraid of him stalking or intimidating me as much as I was worried that my resolve might weaken and I would move back in. Like it or not, I found myself with only one viable choice. But it would mean swallowing my pride and putting on my big girl panties and doing the one thing I had promised myself I would not do.

  • • •

  Beanie all but dragged me out of the elevator, his paws scrabbling frantically on the polished marble floor of the penthouse’s foyer. It had been months since the last time I had been there, but nothing much had changed. Save for the life-sized portrait of an old robber baron hanging on the wall, it still looked more like the antechamber of a four-star hotel’s presidential suite than the entrance to a private residence.

  I took a deep breath to steady my nerves and then pressed the doorbell. Although it seemed to make no sound, I knew that somewhere deep within the penthouse, where the servants spent most of their time, a buzzer was going off. A few seconds later the door opened, revealing a very proper-looking older man in his early sixties, neatly dressed in the formal wear of a butler. The moment he saw me, his reserve disappeared and he grinned from ear to ear.
r />   “Miss Timmy! Welcome home!”

  Chapter 21

  The water from the multiple-head shower felt good on my body. I could have stood there for another hour, without worrying about the hot water running out, but I knew I was just postponing the inevitable. And, besides, I was starting to prune. As I toweled myself dry in my old bedroom, Beanie patrolled the perimeter, diligently sniffing the baseboards, his eyes bugging even farther out of his skull than usual. There was a polite knock on the door just as I finished slipping into some fresh clothes. It was Clarence, of course.

  “Your parents are awaiting you in the Grand Salon, Miss Timmy,” he announced.

  “Can’t they just sit around the kitchen table like normal people?” I sighed.

  “Then they wouldn’t be Eresbies, would they?” Clarence replied, with the same small, conspiratorial smile we used to share when I was in junior high and chafing under my parents’ rules.

  “No, they wouldn’t,” I agreed. “Well, no point in putting it off any longer, I suppose. Come along, Beanie.”

  Beanie stopped his sniffing and obediently trotted at my heels as I led him down the pristine marble staircase that was the only access to the Grand Salon, a cavernous room with ceilings, paneling, and mantelpieces looted from only the finest Venetian palaces by the family’s founder.

  My parents were there, seated before the massive fireplace in antique club chairs. My father looked like he had just come back from yachting, his face still ruddy from the wind, while my mother was dressed in her after-luncheon ensemble and working on what I hoped was her first highball of the day. I was surprised to find myself actually glad to see them.

  My father’s weathered face split into a wide grin as I descended the stairs. “There’s my girl!” he exclaimed, as he rose to hug me. “I’ve missed you, Princess!”

  “I missed you, too, Dad,” I said around the lump in my throat.