by Luna Lindsey
“I wish I could live three blocks away from here,” Jina said. “Though I’ve got plenty of great places to eat on the Hill.”
Jett would grant her wish, in time. “Let’s walk there now, under the leaves and trees in the fading light.”
Jina tensed again. “Naw. I haven’t had anything to drink yet tonight. Let’s find a bar.”
“Wherever you are, there so is my heart. Finn MacCool’s is a few blocks the other way,” Jett suggested.
Whatever was bothering her, Jett would manage to coax it out of her, one way or another. Perhaps her housemate was causing all this pain for her beautiful bard. If so, Jett would storm the gates, and steal Jina away to the safety of the brugh.
“Finn MacCool’s is fine.”
Jina set a slow pace. She lit a cigarette and lingered a little in front of the abandoned Tubs Spa building to admire the colorful graffiti that covered every reachable inch. When they reached the shops, she made sure to look in every window.
Jett loved the feel of Jina’s small hand in hers, her cute nose and her cello voice and the way she talked about music as if it were a heart patient and she a cardiologist. She wished they were walking in the other direction, towards her house, so she could hold Jina to her and never let go.
Jina avoided making eye-contact. They passed an unleased building where there was nothing in the windows. Jett drew her to a stop and pulled her chin up. “Hey, lovely-eyes. How about you tell me why you are so uptight?”
Jina smiled weakly. “Uptight? I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be.”
Jett brushed Jina’s hair from her eyes. “Withdrawn, like a wounded calf. Anything you want to talk about?”
Jina’s shoulders relaxed and she leaned in a little closer and pressed her cheek against Jett’s. “Not really. Not yet. It’s just…” She pulled back and looked Jett in the eyes. “Today I’ve been thinking about some stuff that happened to me a long time ago. And it’s screwing with my mood.”
“What was it you said about trust on our last date?”
Jina’s eyes flickered in recognition. “Some new things have happened since then. Reminders that I should be careful.” She smiled half-heartedly and tugged Jett along, ending the conversation. “Come on, I want to go into this store and get some incense. Have you been here before?”
Jett mused. Gargoyles. Of course she had been here before. This woman drew herself to the fae like a lodestone.
They walked indoors, past the window decorated with goblins, into a fairyland of human design.
Layers of incense, old and new, hit Jett’s nose. Dried leaves gathered along the edges of the two paths which wound around displays of fantastic figures, stone gargoyles, plaster dragons, skulls and crows, Egyptian artifacts and cats with wings. Candles flickered and shone from votive holders made of pentagrams or serpents or griffins, to the music of water trickling from several stone fountains, large and small. The dimly-lit Tudor-style walls, like the inside of an old inn, were covered with bone-framed mirrors and the leafy faces of green men.
All the fairytales ever written were stored up here, waiting for a prince to come and bring it all alive with a hundred kisses.
The store owner looked up, her long, curly red hair cascading around her elfin face. Though she was human, she looked a bit like the tiny winged fairies on display behind her.
She smiled. “Come in, Lady. Good to see you again.” She dipped her head slightly in respect. “Who’s this with you?”
Jina cast a quick look of suspicion before she picked up an incense burner and started showing intense interest in its Celtic design. Jett wondered if Jina had begun to suspect, and she didn’t want Gayle giving her any more clues. Her little flower was not ready to hear the truth, not quite yet.
“Gayle, you are always so polite. This is my new and lovely girlfriend, Jina, who seeks nothing more than plain, ordinary incense.” Jett winked.
The shop owner took the hint and in her usual affable way, showed Jina the scents poking up from bins along the front counter. As one of the few friendly bridges between the fae and humankind, Gayle showed the necessary discretion. Under the counter, she kept a healthy stock of authentic faerie baubles and the rare relic.
While Jina sniffed at the fragrant sticks, Jett wandered to the large goddess fountain in the back of the store. She discretely greeted the hyade, Phaesyle, who stood in the water, wearing a dress the color of Seattle clouds. Tattoos ran down her thin limbs like raindrops. The bowl of the fountain was waist-high, yet even standing on its edge, Phaesyle barely came to Jett’s chin. She held out her hand in expectation, and then pouted when Jett merely shook her head.
“I know a guy who welds fire sculptures,” Jett overheard Jina saying to Gayle from across the room as she handed over her credit card to buy the incense. “Some of his smaller items would look perfect in here. Assuming they don’t burn the place down.”
Gayle laughed. “This place has already burnt down once. That was a long time ago. Most of what we sell here is made by local artists. Send him in.”
“Will do.” Jina took her card and tucked a small bag into her jacket pocket. Jett returned to her side and touched her shoulder. Jina jumped as if something had snuck up behind her.
“I really need to chill out, don’t I?” she said, laughing nervously.
“Maybe a drink will still your waters. Come.”
Finn MacCool’s was more packed than Jett would have expected given how empty the streets had been. On the TV, a sports announcer called out plays for whatever sport was in season right then. Jett led her to the bar. She ordered drinks for the both of them.
Jina opened her mouth two or three times, then closed it. It was not right for her bard to be so silent.
“My ears will accept anything you have to tell me,” Jett said, expecting Jina to go into greater detail about her domestic life.
Jett felt the warmth of Jina’s hand on her knee, before the dreamer leaned in to touch Jett’s forehead with her own. Jett felt the breath of her sigh against her neck. “I confess,” Jina said. “Since yesterday I’ve felt really defensive. I’m trying to open up and trust you, little by little, just like I said people should.”
Jett touched her cheek. Jina’s aisling was laced with fear. She fought off the desire to ride the thread home to its source and be consumed by it. “What happened yesterday? What are you afraid of, blossom?” She’d wanted so much to call her Bláthín in that moment.
“It’s just… I have some huge decisions, and I don’t know if I’m choosing the right thing.” Jina’s eyes searched for answers on the floor to the side of the bar.
She suspected. She’d seen something, or felt something. Jett had to turn this fear back into love, or risk losing her.
“Courage is knowing what not to fear,” Jett quoted.
“And what shouldn’t I fear?” Jina’s aisling reversed direction, pulling Jett towards an undertow.
“You clearly fear me. But maybe it is I who should be afraid of you.”
Jina sat up a little straighter. “You may be more right than you know.”
Jett could taste the fear. She shook off Jina’s aisling. How long could she last before this dreamer had her?
She bolstered the barrier against Jina’s constant, persistent tug. She had done this many times before. She could, and would, resist going too deep.
“It is better to follow that to run,” Jett said. “The fears chase you, but perhaps you should listen to your heart.”
“I’m used to chasing after my heart,” Jina replied. “More often headlong into disaster. It’s even more confusing when my heart is telling me two different things. Run away. Hold tight.”
The dream pulled her in two. “What do you really want?”
Jina looked up at her with her soft, sorrow-filled eyes. “I want you. And it scares me. I’ve fallen in love before. I fall in love with who I think a person is, who I want them to be. Over time, as they get more real, their layers peel back and I learn who they r
eally are. Sometimes, they still match my ideal, sometimes, they don’t. And it’s painful. And I worry…”
Jina looked at their hands clasped together. She squeezed them, hard. “If there was something about you, something that you knew would hurt me, would you tell me? Right now?”
Jett had to wonder how much she knew. None of Jett’s secrets could hurt Jina, but the act of withholding them could. Yet it was too early. The causeway building between them had yet to be completed.
“We will know each other in time,” Jett promised. “We’ve only been together for a wink. And why rush? I am not asking for forever, not so soon, not until we know more about each other and our love has time to bloom.” She wiped a small tear from the corner of Jina’s eye, and gave her a kiss.
Jina returned the kiss uncertainly.
The bartender slid their drinks across the counter towards them.
Jett raised her Guinness and met Jina’s in a toast. “To many long years together, of us having nothing to fear from each other.”
They each took a sip, and resumed cuddling as best they could while perched on barstools. Jina relaxed somewhat, obviously taking comfort in the assurances.
Suddenly, Jina tensed again in her arms.
“What is it now?” Jett whispered.
“It’s him,” Jina said, sitting up, staring towards the pool tables.
She turned, and Pogswoth straightened, glaring at the two, a cue stick in his hand. He grinned.
Jett pulled away, arose, and strode to him. “I told you to stop. Why do you pursue when you know it’s futile?”
He chuckled. Jina joined her, stepping slightly in front of Jett, squeezing her hand as if to assure her. She had a worried look in her eyes, though she didn’t seem afraid, considering this korrigan had been following her. Jett respected her for that, for her courage and strength.
“Don’t worry little flower. I will defend you,” she said, even though Jina seemed to be making every attempt to be the protective one.
“Defend me how?” Jina whispered.
“Yes,” Pogswoth replied, twisting his hands around the cue. “How?”
“You know how, louse,” Jett said.
“Sunday, Monday,” he sang, and then chuckled. Jett’s fury rose. She stared him down; he merely grinned dismissively. His gaze fell on Jina. “Jett tries to save you,” he told her cryptically, “but your own defenses make you vulnerable.” Then his chuckle turned into hard laughter.
Jina shrunk a little then, all her bravado evaporating.
Jett’s Cupid’s Arrow should still stand, yet he acted like it didn’t matter, mouthing off to her as if she were some trooping pygsie. This insufferable commoner refused to accept her authority.
“She’s still fair game,” he managed to wheeze out during his laughing fit. “You can’t lord over anyone as you’d like. Not anymore, old crone.”
This insufferable upstart stalked one of her own for sport, though he knew he could not have her. If this insolent louse would not respect his betters, he would pay.
“You filthy slob.” Jett glared at him and pointed.
Pogswoth started to chuckle again, but scratched under his hat instead. “Aw fuck, you bitch.”
Jett grinned smugly. Now the louse had lice. “Stay away or it will get worse,” she said. She hated resorting to such tricks; it wasn’t classy. Yet those who allowed themselves to be shaped by democratic philosophy required pragmatic solutions, no matter how inelegant.
“This won’t stop me,” he said, throwing down the pool cue. He scratched at his head and hesitated only a moment before scratching his crotch. “I won’t let some stuck up old woman tell me what to do or take what is rightfully mine!” He turned and grumbled out the back door.
“Well,” Jett said, turning to Jina. “That must have seemed weird.” Perhaps now was the time to introduce her to the world of the fae.
“He’s just a crazy homeless guy,” Jina replied dismissively, and Jett let it go. If her human mind was still willing to concoct a rational explanation, she’d let it. Poor Jina didn’t even understand the kind of danger the korrigan posed.
“Thanks for saving me,” Jina added.
“It was nothing,” Jett said. “I cannot bear to see you hurt.”
“It wasn’t nothing. I know what you did. And I appreciate it. A lot.”
She didn’t know the half of it. Someday, she would. Someday soon. Jett looked forward to telling her, showing her the unseen magic that surrounded them even here, in every living thing, all the beauty… When the time came…
Jett put her arms around her shoulders in a hug that Jina melted into.
“You wanna go?” Jina asked.
“We’ve barely touched our drinks.”
“I don’t care. I’m ready to go to your place now.”
Jett nodded, happy and proud she’d finally, somehow, won this girl’s trust.
She hoped Fiz had cleaned up the living room like he’d promised.
CHAPTER 32
*
JINA REMAINED MOSTLY QUIET while walking to Jett’s house. She had a lot to think about and only a few minutes to make sure this was the right decision.
The trees cast long shadows on the old houses in the setting sun. For once, Jina felt strangely safe.
Jett had played it down, but Jina knew what she’d done. She’d used her glamour to chase Scarf away. Twice. Jina let her fingers brush the tiny daisy in her pocket.
The amulet pulled against her neck like a garrote. The medallion protected her from Pogswoth, and it would just as easily block any of Jett’s protective spells. Pogswoth knew that, and gloated.
Either way, Jina could hold her own. If Jett hadn’t been there, she’d be dragging Scarf home to Sandy right now.
Sandy did her best. She’d proven that Ezra needed to be stopped before somebody got hurt. But she still wasn’t helping with Pogswoth. Jett was. Maybe Trey had the right of it. She could help them find the most dangerous faeries, and know which were a harmless kind of crazy. Maybe Jett could show them how to make more effective weapons and spells.
They were all on the same side. Jina should spill everything.
Jina squirmed inside at the thought of telling Jett about the Ordo. How could she make Jett understand?
These secrets were like a wall that divided them. Jina longed to be free to speak her thoughts. Instead, she asked a mundane question. “You have housemates, right?”
Jett grinned playfully. “So, you can speak.” She squeezed Jina’s hand three times. “You’ve not said a word for seven blocks, not even when I asked you a question.”
Jina tried not to look guilty. “I just…”
“Was lost down a rabbit trail of thought. I know. It happens to the best of us. The answer to your question is yes, I have a habit of taking in strays, which you may chance to meet in a few moments. Here we are.” Jett led the way up a short cement walkway to a wide wooden porch cluttered with potted plants, lawn statues, and a bicycle.
Jina hesitated at the threshold, a tendril of uncertainty lingering. Last time she’d crossed just such a threshold into a faerie dwelling, it hadn’t been so easy to leave.
Jett still held her hand; she gave it a soft tug. Jina sighed and stepped through the doorway. If you’re going to do a thing, do it all the way. Just to be sure, she closed the door, opened it again, let go of Jett’s hand, stepped back outside, then stepped back in.
Yes, she could leave this house. It was going to be okay.
“Why did you do that?” Jett asked. Jina just shrugged and took off her jacket.
Jett looked at her oddly, took her jacket, and hung it on an over-crowded rack. Jina removed her shoes and kicked them into the huge pile growing underneath.
Jina heard a fridge door close somewhere. A young man stood at the end of the hallway with a bowl of cereal in one hand and a spoon in the other. Everything about him screamed “typical college student”, except for his raccoon tail.
Everything clicked. She
had a habit of taking in strays. Her housemates were fae.
“Hello milady, milady’s guest,” he said. “Is this the delightful spring breeze you’ve been gushing about all week?”
Jett smiled. “Yes, Fiz. This is Jina. Jina, meet Fiz.”
“Nice tail,” Jina said.
“You flatter me with your kind words. It is real. Amazing what you can find for sale on the internet. And may I present my cereal? It is getting soggy, so forgive my impertinence.” With that, Fiz bowed with a deep flourish without spilling a drop of milk, and ventured upstairs to his room.
Fiz could have passed for a regular boy with an unusual accent and a thing for animals. But in Tir Nan Og, he could easily have a real tail. Or be an animal.
She wondered about Pete, the one who made the mead. And Ramón. But Ramón was an artist, like her…
“I promised you a taste of mead,” Jett said, heading toward the kitchen.
“No,” Jina said, shaking her head. That mead was faerie food. The tales were consistent on this matter – you could survive a journey into Tir Nan Og, so long as you refrained from eating the faerie food.
Jett seemed puzzled.
“Jett, is that you?” A male voice interrupted, making Jina jump.
“Yes, Ramón my dear. Come in here and meet Jina.”
Ramón emerged from the kitchen carrying a bowl of chips. Jina wished she had faesight, like Trey. He was probably like her, just a dreamer.
“Hello, Jina.” He reached out his hand, and she shook it. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Nice to meet you.” Jina worried what he thought of her, since she would be sleeping with his… What was Jett to him? And how much did he know about her and the others in this house?
“I’ll leave you two be,” he said warmly. “I guess this means I’m sleeping in my room tonight.”
Jett nodded, and Ramón skittered off. He seemed happy enough with the arrangement. Assuming he wasn’t forced to be happy through some enchantment, like Sandy had been.
“At long last, we’re alone.” Jett leaned in to kiss Jina, but something stirred on the couch in the next room. “Not quite alone. Someone has crashed in the living room. No telling who. Could be one of the housemates, or more likely some vagrant they have dragged home.”