by Brian Olsen
“You do, too, what?”
“I want to be your boyfriend, too.” I rub his foot through his sock. “I’ve kind of already been thinking of you as my boyfriend, even though we haven’t said it yet.”
He nudges me with his toe. “Me, too.”
“I can’t promise I won’t want to talk about this again.”
“That’s okay. We can talk about anything, any time we want.” His eyes lights up and he nudges me again. “Like maybe sometime I’ll want to talk about how happy I am that my first gay relationship, my first gay kiss, my first gay anything, is you.”
Okay, that did it. I can’t hold back anymore. I kiss him. Our arms go around each other and he falls backwards, taking me with him. But he’s sitting too close to the wall and his head connects with a thump. He groans and grabs his head and I start to ask if he’s okay but then he kisses me again and I don’t care about what we were like as kids, or which memories are real and which are magic, or anything at all except Zane Winarski and how much I love the feel of his stubble against my cheeks.
Twenty-one
“I want you to know that I hate you both.”
Alisa walks next to me and Nate as we start across the Millennium Bridge, a steel suspension bridge for pedestrians only which crosses the river Thames. We’ve been playing tourist all morning, but we’ve got about a half hour until the sun rises in Charlesville and I can take us home. We just left St. Paul’s Cathedral, which we decided not to go inside because of the busy Saturday morning crowd. I want to see Shakespeare’s Globe so Jasmine suggested we take the Millennium Bridge to South Bank and pay it a visit. She, Tannyl and Zane are together, a few feet behind us, out of earshot.
“Hey, I didn’t make the room assignments,” Nate protests.
“Sorry,” I say. “But only a little. Did you two hook up?”
“No!”
Nate nudges her. “No nibbling on pointed ears?”
“No!”
Nate shakes his head sadly. “You sure you’re not ace? I mean, I’m not all that into dudes but Tannyl is the prettiest guy I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh, crap!” I smack my forehead. “I’m so sorry, Alisa. I didn’t even think of that. I’m such a jerk. I should have—”
She punches my shoulder. “I’ve told you a thousand times I’m not asexual. Just because I’m not as sex-obsessed as the two of you. I’m fine with the idea of having sex, I just haven’t… I mean, there are lots of times when I’ve found some guy physically attractive.”
“Lots of times?” I ask. “Really? I can count on one hand the times you’ve said you thought somebody was hot.”
“Okay, maybe not lots of times. But it’s happened. Occasionally.” She curls her lip. “That physical attraction always fades quickly. And I never actually want to do anything about it. I never understand how some people can go on and on and on about someone they don’t even know. There was someone at my old school, before I met you two. One of my best friends. I crushed on him pretty hard, but he wasn’t interested.” She sighs. “Maybe I’m…I don’t know.”
We split apart to let a toddler run between us, pursued by his mother. It’s a beautiful day and the bridge is crowded.
“Maybe you’re what?” I prompt.
“Do you remember last summer, we were at Nate’s place and we had that long talk about gender and sexuality? You were both listing off the people at your LGBTQ Center and how they identified?”
“Sure.”
“There was one…I didn’t say anything then but I’ve been thinking about it a lot. What’s the word for when you only feel attracted to somebody after you’ve gotten to know them?”
“Demisexual,” Nate answers. “Demisexuals have to feel an emotional connection with someone before they wanna bone them.”
I nod. “They usually only crush on people after they’re already friends with them. Like, say, a best friend from junior high?”
Alisa’s glower finally fades and she smiles a little. “Yes. That sounds right. Can you be demisexual and heterosexual at the same time?”
I put my arm around her. “You can be whatever you want.”
She leans into me. “Okay. Then I’m that. You’re my witnesses, I’m officially coming out as a heterosexual demisexual.”
Nate takes her hand and lifts it over her head. “Yes! Alissa’s in the queer club! Finally. Okay, you’re coming to the next youth dance at the Center with us.”
I drop my arm from around her shoulders and take her other hand. The three of us walk slowly across the bridge, swinging our arms together.
“What does this mean for Tannyl?” I ask.
She sighs. “It means the tiny bit of Ree that’s in my head wants to tear his breeches off, but Alisa doesn’t know him well enough yet to think of him as anything but a new friend, and both of us are extremely confused.”
“Sorry again.” I squeeze her hand. “So how was last night? Awkward?”
“It turned out fine.” She pulls her hands from ours and gives us sideways shoves. “Which doesn’t excuse you two for putting me in that situation. But he didn’t push for any lost memories at all. He’s trying to get to know who I am now. Which is sweet. I know this is hard for him, too.” She touches the spot where the necklace rests under her blouse. “We had a nice night. I got us ice cream and we watched British TV and talked until late.”
“Getting to know each other,” Nate says. “That’s how the boning begins. So we might look forward to some little half-elves running around someday after all?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” She flicks a finger against my chest. “Abandoning me better have been worth it, lover boy.”
I shove my hands in my pockets. “It was.”
“Look at that grin!” Nate reaches past Alisa to slap my stomach. “I knew as soon as you guys came downstairs.”
Alisa rolls her eyes. “We all knew.”
“So?” Nate asks. “Details?”
“Hey. I’m a gentleman.”
Nate stops short. “No way. I have told you every detail of me and Jasmine’s sex life.”
“You have. Whether I wanted to hear it or not.”
Alisa leans against the railing. “We should wait for them to catch up.”
Nate and I join her. It’s a beautiful view, looking east, I think. The water’s calm today, except for the guide boats zipping along. London has a lot of weird-looking buildings, and some neat bridges, too. The farthest one I can see is that cool old one, either London Bridge or Tower Bridge, I’m not sure. It’s got the pedestrian walkway up at the top, with the drawbridge underneath, between two big medieval-looking towers. Oh, that probably means it’s Tower Bridge. Duh.
“It was good, though?” Nate asks.
“I think it was good. I liked it more than I did with Derek or Mike, for sure. We laughed a lot. Is that good? I kept wondering if we were supposed to be laughing so much.”
Nate shrugs. “I don’t know. Sex is the only time I’m serious.”
Alisa puts her arm around my back. “I’m far from an expert, since any sex I’ve ever had has been erased from my memory, but it sounds pretty good to me.”
“Hey, guys!” Jasmine calls to us. She’s between Zane and Tannyl, dragging them along by their hands. “Are you done talking about Chris and Zane’s first time, yet? We are.”
Zane blushes scarlet. “Jasmine. Geez.”
Nate meets them, putting his arms around Jasmine’s waist. “We barely got started. Chris won’t spill any details.”
She kisses him. “Zane spilled everything. I’ll tell you later.”
I put my arm around Zane’s shoulders. “You did, huh?”
“I didn’t. I mean, a little. Not details.” He slumps against me. “She’s relentless. Hey, not to change the subject but to completely change the subject, check out that view!”
Tannyl laughs and joins Alisa at the railing. “This is an impressive city.”
“Were there cities this big before the Moment?” she asks.<
br />
“There were buildings as large, yes, but the cities were not as populous, so they did not stretch so far.” As he scans the city, he takes Alisa’s hand. I don’t think he even realizes he did it. “Elven cities cluster around a central structure, used for government and commerce, larger than any building I see here, but the surrounding streets and dwellings give way to forest quickly. Someday I will show you all the city of Sagemoss, my home. It’s—” He stops, and his face falls. “But my home is gone. I shall not see it again.” He looks down at his hand and pulls it away from Alisa. “Forgive me. A habit. I did not mean to presume.”
She takes his hand back in hers. “I’m sorry about your home. Did I ever see it, before?”
He shakes his head. “It was quite far from the human capital. We planned a trip, but events overtook us.”
“I can still meet your family.” She tugs on the cord of her necklace. “They’re not far.”
He laughs. “Indeed. Not far at all.”
“All right, kids,” Nate calls out. “Times a-wasting. Let’s go see Chris’s boring theater, then let’s go home and save the fairies and get yelled at for being out all night without calling.”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Jasmine fishes her phone out of her backpack. “I want a picture! Get together!”
“Find someone to take it, Jaz,” Alisa says, “so you can be in it.”
The five of us gather at the railing while Jasmine flags down a woman walking in our direction.
“Excuse me? Would you mind…oh, hello! Guys, look who it is!”
It’s Mrs. Wollard, the woman from the bookshop. Jasmine holds her phone out to her, but the older woman brushes it aside.
She looks right at me. “I remember now. I remember you.”
Zane starts to inch in front of me, but I stop him. “Mrs. Wollard—”
“That’s not my name!” she shouts.
A couple people stop to stare. Nate breaks away from us and pulls Jasmine a few steps away from the unfriendly shopkeeper.
“I can’t remember my real name,” Mrs. Wollard continues. “But I remember you. The king. The monster.”
“Oh.” Alisa bites her lip. “This is bad.”
“How did you find us here, Mrs. Wollard?” I keep my voice low and calm.
“I had a dream last night,” she says. “A horrible dream. About another woman, who looked just like me. She was me. Somehow, she was.” She puts her hands to her temples. “I was in the woods, with the spirits. They were my friends. And you killed them, you and your soldiers. You burned them with your magic fire.” She digs her fingers into her white hair. “Other people, people who had magic too, they wanted me to help them. Help them cast a spell to stop you. But it would take my friends out of the world. Make it like they never were, except in stories. So I said no. I ran away, deep into the woods.” She drops her hands. “That really happened, didn’t it? They were real once, the fairies and the pixies and the elves?”
I nod. “They were.”
“They still are.” Tannyl pulls off his cap, revealing his ears. “We still are, good woman. We are forgotten by the world, but not yet lost from it.”
Mrs. Wollard’s eyes light up with delight. She reaches out a trembling hand, and Tannyl takes it. “Real,” she whispers. “Oh, it’s all real.”
“Chris,” Alisa says in my ear. “If Liefer wanted her to help cast the Moment, then—”
“She’s a logomancer. Yeah, got it.”
Zane leans in towards us. “But she never saw you do magic. How come she has her memories back?”
My heart sinks. “She said she had a dream.”
They both get it. The Nightmare Queen.
“But why are you with him?” Mrs. Wollard asks Tannyl. “He butchered your kind!”
The elf lowers his head. “I cannot deny it. But the situation is complicated. He is not what he was.”
“None of us are.” Gently, she pulls her hand out from his. “My dream showed me where you’d be today. I’ve been waiting patiently.” She looks at me again. “I know what I have to do.”
“Mrs. Wollard.” I put my hands up. “Please. I can explain.”
She snarls at me. An actual guttural snarl, showing her teeth. A man trying to pass by cutting between us jumps back in surprise, then laughs as he moves around behind her.
Mrs. Wollard never looks at him. “No explanations, Common King. If the fairy folk yet live, I won’t give you the chance to finish them off.”
Tannyl steps between us. “I sympathize with your pain, woman. But I am obliged to protect this man, whatever his crimes.”
“Then share his fate, traitor.” She steps back, away from us, forcing more of the passers-by to detour around her. “All of you will share his fate.”
Nate and Jasmine run over to us. “Dude,” Nate says, “I think it’s time to go.”
Everybody puts a hand on me. I want us home, near Charlesville, in that spot near the Rocks where we want to let the fairies free. Right now. “Sun.”
Nothing. I feel a little tug, more than when I tried it after breakfast, but we don’t move. “It’s still dark there!”
“Well, it’s not dark here!” Nate yells. “Take us back to the hotel or something!”
Mrs. Wollard takes a deep, heaving breath. “I hear the voices! All talking at once!” Her eyes roll up into her head. “A word, one single word, calling to me…I hear it…I hear the word…I hear my word!”
I want us to be back in our hotel! Right now!
I take a breath to say my word, but fire fills my head. I’m not on the bridge, I’m in a woods, I’m shooting bursts of flame at some kind of creature, like a fairy but taller and without wings. There are hundreds of them and my army, my soldiers, they’re encircling them, stopping their escape, cutting off their heads, slaughtering any I miss.
I’m back on the bridge.
“Chris?” Zane puts his arm around my waist, holding me up. “Chris, what’s wrong?”
I want us out of here. Back on the steps of St. Paul’s. Right now!
“Su—”
I’m outside the woods, my army at my back. This small forest is home to so many magical creatures that I’ve decided to just burn the whole thing. It’s easy, we haven’t had rain recently and the trees burn quickly. When the woods’ denizens flee the smoke and the fire, my soldiers are ready to cut them down.
“Aaah!” I thrust my hands into my hair. “I can’t! She’s in my head, the Nightmare Queen! She’s stopping me from leaving!”
“I hear it!” Mrs. Wollard cries. “My own voice, telling me my word! I remember!” Her eyes snap into focus. She splays her arms and legs out, throws her head back, and shouts, “Wolf!”
Her body shakes violently. Her face twists and elongates, her mouth and nose pushing out into a snout. Silver fur sprouts from her skin, and her blouse tears as her torso expands, becoming more muscular. Sharp teeth and claws complete her transformation into half-woman, half-wolf.
“Werewolf!” Nate shouts. “She’s a werewolf! Aaooo, werewolves of London!”
“There is but one,” Tannyl points out.
“It’s a song!” Nate snaps back. “Classic rock calms me!”
The crowd on the bridge parts around us, giving us a wide berth, but nobody’s running. They don’t know what’s happening, that there’s any danger. They must think it’s a stunt or a performance. Naturally, dozens of phones are recording the whole scene, including the six of us, backed up against the railing. So much for anonymity.
“Die, murderer,” Mrs. Wollard snarls in a rough and raspy voice. “Die!”
She launches herself at us. Jasmine screams. I throw up my hand to shoot a blast of flame at her but—
I’m in the woods, kicking over a charred body which crumbles, leaving just the bones. Tiny, tiny bones. A few of my soldiers have run off, they don’t have the stomach for this, but they’ll be caught. I’ll punish them myself. Burn them slowly for their desertion.
Someone yanks me out of t
he way. Alisa, pulling me to safety. We scatter out of the path of Mrs. Wollard’s lunge and she catches herself on the railing. I wind up with Alisa and Tannyl on one side of her, while Nate, Zane and Jasmine are on the other. The werewolf turns towards me.
Tannyl looks her up and down, appraising her. “She is infirm. Even in this stronger form, her age slows her. I can best her.” He reaches behind his back and produces his long dagger.
“Did you have that under your shirt this whole time?” Alisa asks.
“I don’t like the idea of hurting her,” I say, “but I can’t use my magic.”
The crowd cheers. This must be one hell of a show.
“I can hold her,” Zane calls out.
He extends his hands towards Mrs. Wollard, and a shadow creeps up her legs. She looks down in surprise and tries to jump back, away from it, but it sticks with her. She holds onto the railing for support as it pins her torn skirt to her thighs and spreads up her torso.
“I got her!” Zane says. “I got this!”
The crowd applauds.
This is good. Zane can keep her from killing us while Tannyl talks sense into her, or until I figure out a way around the Nightmare Queen blocking my magic and take us home. Nobody has to fight.
Mrs. Wollard turns her head towards the spectators. “Wolf.”
About a dozen of the people closest to her, the innermost of those in the sizable semi-circle of onlookers that’s formed, begin to shake. Those who were holding phones, or bags, or tourist maps, drop them. They howl in pain as their bodies twist and deform.
There’s no more applause from the crowd. Now they scream. Many run, but some only retreat to a safer distance and continue watching and recording.
The people affected by Mrs. Wollard’s spell drop to all fours. Their clothes vanish but their bodies are already covered in tawny brown fur. They’ve transformed into full wolves. Big ones. They growl, teeth bared, and advance on us slowly.
“Aaooo,” Tannyl says softly. “Werewolves of London.”
“Nate!” Jasmine screams.
On the other side of Mrs. Wollard, Jasmine and Zane are there, but no Nate. Just another wolf. A wolf with a stainless steel septum piercing in his nose.