Dreamhearth

by M. C. A. Hogarth

  Jahir looked at him past the box and lifted his brows.

  “It’s all good,” Vasiht’h told him.

  “I would do nothing differently,” Jahir said.

  Vasiht’h smiled. “You know… I wouldn’t either. And I didn’t know it until this moment now.”

  The Eldritch looked up at the false sky as they exited the port into the commons. “It has been marvelous.”

  Vasiht’h laughed. Marvelous! What a word, but so appropriate. Full of marvels. “Yes. Yes, it has.”

  Tiber’s assistant was behind the desk when they arrived, along with one of his clients waiting on the couch. At the sight of them, she rose and then her greeting died in her throat as the puppy peeked over the top of the box. “Speaker-Singer,” she exhaled in a breath. “Oh look at those adorable ears. Do they... they flop…!” Glancing up, she added, “But are you sure this is a good idea, alet?”

  “Is he sure what’s a good idea?”

  Vasiht’h steeled himself. /This is it./

  /Your show this time, arii./

  Vasiht’h eyed him. /This is revenge for all the times I make you speak for us, isn’t it./

  Jahir’s silent laugh was in his eyes. /Today you are the best person for the work./

  /I guess I am, at that./ Vasiht’h faced Tiber as the man joined them and froze at the sight of the dog. “So, our emergency.”

  “You’re so young,” Tiber interrupted, reaching past Vasiht’h to dig into the box and bring out the puppy. “Little girl… where’s your mother?”

  “That’s the problem,” Vasiht’h said. “Someone left her in this box at the docks.”

  “What!”

  “They called Jahir because he’s been looking into dogs, and when we got there… well. We thought of you.”

  Tiber was cradling the golden dog to his chest, ignoring her happy licking. “You wanted a dog?”

  “No,” Jahir said firmly. “I was only interested in how they were acquired when there was no vendor on station. I left a note asking about it, and the port authority contacted me in regards to this dog, hoping I would want her, or know someone who did.”

  “Poor darling,” Tiber said, stroking her back. “Who would do that to a defenseless animal?”

  “They don’t know,” Vasiht’h said. “And even if they did, they don’t want to return her.”

  “Of course not. Who knows what they’d do next!” Tiber lifted her and looked her in the face. “That awful man didn’t deserve you.” The puppy strained toward him and he tucked her back into his arms. “You really don’t want her?”

  “We’re not ready for pets,” Vasiht’h said. “We don’t even know if we’ll have a place to stay in a week.”

  Tiber hesitated.

  “We thought of you,” Jahir added.

  Vasiht’h nodded. “You were good to Trusty. This dog needs someone to be good to her.”

  Tiber looked away, still stroking her head. Squaring his shoulders, he said, “There’s no guarantees I’ll keep her. We might not get along. But if we don’t, I promise I’ll find her someone who’ll love her the way she deserves.”

  “That’s all we can ask,” Vasiht’h said. “Thank you.”

  Tiber nodded. “See you next week.”

  “If I’m here,” Vasiht’h said.

  Again that hesitation. Then Tiber nodded again and swept back into his office. As the door shut, they could just hear the first of his cooing sounds.

  /He is not giving that dog to someone else,/ Vasiht’h said, satisfied.

  /Absolutely not,/ Jahir agreed.

  “I… I didn’t think that would work,” the receptionist said, wide-eyed.

  “Neither did we,” Vasiht’h said. “But we had to try. For both their sakes.”

  That made her smile and her ears straighten. Even the client, sitting on the couch, said, “It’ll be nice to have a dog at the sessions again. Allen without one is just… weird.”

  They waited until they were outside to laugh.

  “Now we can finally get to our lunch!”

  “I had hoped you’d forgotten,” Jahir said.

  “The noodle place? Not a chance. And I want dessert too. If we’re only going to be here a little longer, I’m buying all the fancy scones I can get before I have to start mail-ordering them.”

  Lifting his head, Jahir said softly, “It truly has been grand.”

  “It has,” Vasiht’h said. “And we helped some people.” Thinking of Tiber, he chuckled. “Even the ones who didn’t like us at first.”

  “Worse things could be said of people, than that they helped a few of their fellows as they passed through.”

  “Yes,” Vasiht’h said, and thought he was okay with it. He smiled. “Life is good.”

  Chapter 22

  Their six month anniversary came and went, and they received no notification about their status despite Vasiht’h checking his mail for one several times a day. He gave up after a week and concentrated instead on their workload. Ametia hadn’t made a new appointment, but she’d referred them several new people; Lennea was still coming, and so was Rook. He and Jahir discussed the ethics of taking on new clients when they might have to leave, and decided to handle it by informing their new patients of the situation. All three of them chose to keep their appointments.

  It was good to be busy.

  His next appointment with Tiber was at the end of that week, and the new puppy had been installed in state in his office. Unlike Trusty, who’d been an old and confident dog, Sarah was shy. She preferred to watch things from the cozy hutch Allen had built for her and filled with soft pillows, chew toys, and a striped pink blanket that set off her long golden fur. She looked much happier—so did Tiber. Leaving the office, Vasiht’h thought they’d done very well there.

  In the middle of the second week after their deadline, Vasiht’h finished HEALED BY HER IMMORTAL HEART. Jahir had gone for his swim, so there hadn’t been anything better to occupy himself with, and he felt a vague curiosity over how the author was going to rescue her sweetly sappy romance after torching it so completely with the tragic miscarriage. The answer to that puzzle was ‘badly,’ by his sister’s standards, because the two “found strength in their love” and became, again, sweetly sappy, as if nothing had happened. They even agreed to adopt instead, which Vasiht’h’s sisters came down on like the fists of angry goddesses.

  SARDA: Are you kidding? Did she really just handwave adoption as a way to fix everything? How disrespectful is that, when she didn’t consider it in the first place? It’s like adopting is a poor second best option!

  NINEH: It is a weird intrusion of practicality into a narrative that’s had absolutely no tether to anything concrete or real. Why can’t they have another magical halfbreed baby if they conceived one the first time? Adopting seems disappointingly mundane when you’ve introduced hybrid Eldritch-fox children as an option.

  KOVRAH: I can’t see most readers being satisfied with it as a happy ending.

  KAVILA: I’m more confused that they seem to have completely shrugged off the trauma of their failed attempt. Why isn’t there a ‘Book 2: Thaddeus slowly heals his Eldritch partner of her grief?’

  MANDARA: Because this is HEALED BY HER IMMORTAL HEART. Obviously. She’s the one doing the healing, not him.

  KAVILA: Right, so a Book 2 where he does the healing would have a nice symmetry. Plus it would sell more books. People like things that come in sets, right? You could buy HEALED BY HER IMMORTAL HEART and follow it up immediately with HEALED BY HIS MORTAL HEART

  MANDARA: His mortal something, anyway….

  TAVYI: Yuck, Mandara, SO MUCH YUCK.

  SARDA: This book has FAILED. Sehvi, we’re going to have words next time I see you.

  SEHVI: As long as those words are accompanied by pillow fights and cookie dough.

  SARDA: …

  SARDA: And we do a point-by-point take-down of how awful this was and how we didn’t deserve it?

  SEHVI: Sure! But seriously, they�
�re a cute couple.

  TAVYI: It’s hard to argue that. Though I really wanted the half-Eldritch Tam-illee kid. Without the bilateral asymmetry. All one thing or the other, but tragic. Oooh, hey! That would be perfect! This author should write the story of the sad ghost halfbreed! She can fall in love with a medium!

  MANDARA: Someone should write that book. I’d read it.

  KAVILA: Someone’s probably already written it.

  MANDARA: MY TURN TO RECOMMEND OUR NEXT BOOK

  Vasiht’h found himself grinning and turned the page to study the happy portrait of the author, a stylized cartoon of a beaming female Pelted of indeterminate age and species. Oddly, unlike his sisters, he found the ending heartwarming. Not because he thought the portrayal of trauma was accurate—it was completely ridiculous—but because Rexina Regina was right about one thing: love got you through things. Even the kind of love that he had, which had nothing to do with romance and everything to do with finding the very best of friends, closer than any brother or lover, and sticking with him through anything. And if that best of friends was an Eldritch, well… somehow that was even better. For Vasiht’h anyway, because he wouldn’t want it any other way.

  “Not to say,” he told his tablet, “That love doesn’t also create problems, because it does. Or that love solves them, because it doesn’t. But it makes things bearable. And you can do a lot when you feel like things are bearable.”

  Rexina Regina twinkled back at him and he touched her nose. Strange to think he could have enjoyed her novel, but somehow, he had. The ending had made it all worthwhile.

  A dialogue box opened under his finger. Startled, he lifted his hand and saw the message header, and his entire body froze.

  Just open it, just open it, don’t hesitate or you’ll never find the courage… Vasiht’h tapped it and spread the text.

  …like to welcome you to Starbase Veta…. Thank you for choosing us as your place of residence… information on utilities, voting, amenities listed below…

  Vasiht’h jumped to his feet and spun in place, beating his paws on the floor. And laughed, grabbing his cheek ruffs. They’d done it? They’d done it! He re-read the message just to be sure and let his tablet drop, then his haunches. And Jahir was out! And wasn’t typically available while swimming. Sending an emergency alert to him felt extreme, especially when he could wait and do the thing properly. Vasiht’h grabbed his bag and ran for the door.

  Jahir entered the cottage to a suspicious tension in the mindline and no sight of his partner. He set his bag on the kitchen table and paused there, one hand lighting on the back of a chair. The windows were open on a bright day, letting in the spiced perfume of Ilea’s sun-warmed plants. No clutter in the kitchen, either, nor any other sign of activity. He touched the fullness hanging between himself and Vasiht’h and extended a gentle probe.

  /Up the ramp./

  On the roof, Vasiht’h was sitting, squinting up at the sky. “You know, I never noticed the one weird thing about Veta’s sky.”

  “What’s that?” Jahir asked, taking the chair alongside him.

  “There’s no sun. I mean, there’s an apparent point source, but it’s not a sun. I looked it up once it occurred to me, and I don’t understand a word of how they make it feel like daytime without an actual burning star. But the takeaway is that you can look directly at that point source, and it won’t hurt you. Isn’t that strange?”

  “Only as strange as a manufactured environment having a summer,” Jahir said. “Have you noticed?”

  “That it’s warmer now?” Vasiht’h nodded. “But not uncomfortable. I guess if you can decide how hot it gets, why let it get scorching. Did you have a nice swim?”

  “A good one, yes,” Jahir said. He would miss the pool, but there would be water wherever they went. Everything important, he would take with him. “I appreciate the waxing season in that regard.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Vasiht’h chuckled and slid an envelope over to him. “Here, a present. I bought it with our money.”

  “Our money,” Jahir repeated, bemused.

  “I’m trying to be less uptight about it.” The Glaseah grinned at him. “Not to say I’m about to become a spendthrift, but a few luxuries now and then seem all right. Right?”

  “Depending on what they are,” Jahir agreed, surprised and charmed. He took up the envelope, and the moment his fingers brushed it, something echoed back to a similar one on Seersana. His hesitation made Vasiht’h look up at him, eyes sparkling, and the mindline effervesced with his joy.

  Opening the envelope on two passes to the cultural center’s musical season, Jahir said, soft, “We’re staying.”

  “We’re staying,” Vasiht’h confirmed.

  Touch remained so hard, and yet so important, and this moment deserved it; did not just deserve it, required it. Jahir held out his hand for Vasiht’h’s and received those alien fingers in his, softly furred, short and strong. And then he let his head sag until it was resting against his dearest companion’s. The light on his back was warm, the scent of the garden strong all around them, and it felt right: this fleeting, heartbeat now.

  “We could have managed anywhere,” Jahir murmured, unwilling to lift his head.

  Vasiht’h snorted, his smile like true sunlight in the mindline. “We could have thrived anywhere. But this place was meant to be our home.”

  “And now it is.” Jahir sat up and squeezed Vasiht’h’s hand once before letting it go. “This calls, unquestionably, for a celebration.”

  “Ice cream,” Vasiht’h guessed, laughter turning up the edges of the words.

  “I will consent to a proper meal first. But ice cream after.”

  Rising onto all four paws, Vasiht’h said, “I wonder what Karina will recommend today?” He laughed suddenly. “I wonder if the menu changes over the course of the year!”

  “We,” Jahir said, “will find out.”

  Chapter 23

  “So this is where you’ve been making do,” Helga said, peering into the door of their office.

  Vasiht’h said, “Are you our walk-in appointment?”

  “I am now!” The Hinichi bent to lift the corner of their brightly colored afghan. “Look at that. Not only Ametia’s handiwork, but Hector’s as well.” She sniffed. “Smells nice in here too.”

  “A suggestion from a client,” Jahir said.

  “Good on you for running with it,” Helga said. She turned in place. “Still, it’s a bit tiny, isn’t it?”

  “As you said,” Jahir replied, fascinated by her air of mischief, “We are making do.”

  /She’s up to something,/ Vasiht’h said.

  /She has been since she took up with us, arii./

  Vasiht’h chuckled. /She has at that./ Aloud, he said, “You know our news, I’m guessing.”

  She grinned. “Of course I do. I know everything around here.”

  “Dare we ask if you had a hand in the outcome?” Jahir said.

  “Oh, I put my foot in it, of course.” She waved a hand toward the door. “This is my community. I have strong opinions. Particularly about people in my own profession.”

  “Then we thank you for your help,” Jahir said.

  “I did say I would, back when I found you furrowing your brow over a data tablet and an empty table,” Helga said. “I said my starbase needed you two, and I’m sure the long run will prove me right.” She smiled. “But you should also go thank Allen. He put in a good word for you, and after trumpeting from on high that you were dangerous, that was big.”

  “He did what?” Vasiht’h asked, his incredulity bursting between them like fireworks.

  “I said ‘big.’” Helga tapped her chin. “I should say pivotal, really.”

  “Allen Tiber? Spoke for us?” Vasiht’h repeated.

  “You made a good impression,” Helga said. “I don’t think he’ll ever quite believe in your methodology, mind you, but he can admit when he’s wrong.”

  “A rare trait,” Jahir murmured.

  �
�Very,” Helga said. “He’s a good man. Don’t hesitate to lean on him if you need him. Minette’s a bit of a specialist in college kids. Allen’s your man for broader issues, if you need to refer people. Just don’t do it too often… he needs to slow down. Which is why I’m so glad you all are here, because now I can saddle you with my existing client list and go haring off on my adventures without a care in the world.”

  Her existing client list! “You’re going to do what?” Vasiht’h said, ears sagging.

  “Go haring off on adventures?” she repeated. Her eyes were dancing. “You should be the least surprised about that, given the matchmaking.”

  Vasiht’h put his hands on his hips. “I wasn’t talking about the adventures part!”

  She started laughing. “I know!” She clapped her hands. “So, my dears. Ready to move into your new office?”

  /If I say ‘our what’ she’s going to laugh at me again, isn’t she./

  Jahir bridled his mirth. /You should know better, arii. This was coming. Yes?/

  /I guess it was./ Vasiht’h said, “Do we have time to pack?”

  The Healer’s Knot was empty of everything but the memory of the kindnesses done in its rooms, and the potential unfolding before them. Jahir followed Helga through its front door into the broad central room and halted as she pointed. “This used to be the waiting room.”

  “It has a kitchen!” Vasiht’h exclaimed.

  “Oh, sure, we used to serve healthy meals,” Helga said. “Food is medicine, too.” She padded inside. “So that door there, right next to the front door, leads to the two offices we used to use for therapy. And then down this hall…” She led them further into the room, “This was where we did physical therapy, and down there’s the bathroom. It’s got an installation large enough for all the species of the Alliance, though an Akubi would probably find it uncomfortable.”