"You're dry." She observed. "Your clothes and skin are
dry."
"Yes." He answered.
Claire fell silent. Every time she had touched him, she
hadn't felt any body heat from him. She never noticed it before
now, because now his body was warm. It should have been ice
cold from the rain, but it was warm. Not as warm as she was, but
enough to be noticed.
"You are always so still. Do you ever breathe?" She
asked.
"I do not need to." He replied. Simple straight answers,
with no feeling.
"But, can you?"
She felt his chest begin to move rhythmically under her.
Not deeply, but slowly, softly. She could hear the air filling his
lungs and his breath when he exhaled. It wasn't full deep breaths,
more like small sighs.
Her eyes began to feel heavy. She closed them slowly.
"Are you you ever going to give a straight answer about what you
are?" She asked.
"No." Was his reply.
Why not? But the question never made it past her lips as
the gentle rhythm of his breathing rocked her to sleep.
*** Claire was dreaming. She must be, because there was nothing here. Up, down, left right, forward, back. Nothing but emptiness. The only thing here was her and her ball.
She looked down at her hands. She didn't own a ball. Only, it wasn't so much a ball, as a large ball of red thread. The thread shimmered in the light.
She looked around, where was light even coming from? She could see no apparent light source.
The ball slipped from her hands. She looked down at it. It rolled away from her as quickly as if someone had kicked it, and it was showing no signs of slowing down. A red thread lay shining on the ground. It trailed down from her hand.
She inspected her hand. The thread was tied to the little finger of her right hand. She pulled on it, but it didn't come loose. She frowned at it. This was a very strange dream.
She pulled on the other end of the thread. She couldn't even see the ball anymore. She followed the thread. She wasn't sure how long or how far she had walked. There was nothing all around her, and no way of telling time. Maybe, if she ran, she might catch up to the ball of thread.
She was right. After running for a little bit, she saw the ball up ahead. It was still rolling along. It seemed that dreams weren't governed by the laws of friction. She could see a dim shadow in the distance. It was a silhouette of a man. He was facing away from her. The ball rolled right up to him, hitting him in the back of the foot. It stopped and lay there, looking more expectant than a ball of thread should.
She stopped running as she saw him turn, looking down. She squinted, but couldn't see him that well.
He bent down, picking up the ball. She could see his hand clearly. It was dark, black as soot. He held the ball, looking down at it.
She felt her pulse quicken. Her cheeks flushed. A strange feeling welled inside of her. It was warm and exciting. Why was she feeling this way, looking at this man?
He turned his head, looking at her. His eyes were bright red. He smiled a slow, wide smile. His teeth were sharp, and pure white. She could see nothing else about his face. She folded her hands together, placing them over her heart. The red thread trailed down from her little finger, all the way across the floor and to the man. Her heart beat in a quick staccato. She gave the man a sad, yearning look.
Panic ran rampantly in her brain. But still she stood there, blushing and staring. Why did she feel this way? This man was frightening. He was obviously dangerous, going by the glowing eyes and the sharp fangs. She knew it just by looking at him.
But she couldn't look away.
***
Claire woke slowly. Her head was spinning. Her cheeks were hot again. She lay still for a few seconds more. Her eyes were closed, remembering her dream, while her cheeks burned.
Then she slowly sat up. She had fallen asleep on Beast. She was small enough still that it wasn't uncomfortable. He was laying absolutely still on the hard wooden floor, his eyes were closed.
She sat on her knees. Her knees were planted in his chest. She peered into his face. Was he really sleeping? She had rarely seen him with his eyes closed, much less sleeping. His chest wasn't moving, so he had probably stopped breathing after she had fallen asleep.
She was surprised by how relaxed his face was. She had never realized before that a person's face was different when awake, than from when they slept. The muscles in his cheeks and mouth were relaxed. It made his face look... softer.
She reached up a hand a brushed her fingers over his cheek, then down to his mouth. She touched her fingertips to his lips, but her cheeks didn't flare up. She put a palm to her cheek to make sure, but it didn't feel hot at all.
Beast opened his eyes a little, looking up at her under his lashes. She pulled her hand away from his face and scooted down to his legs. He sat up and opened his eyes fully, still looking at her. "Yes?" He asked.
She shook her head, silent in thought. After a minute she asked him "What is it when your cheeks get hot?"
"There are many reasons for something like that." He answered simply. His face was as expressionless as always.
"My cheeks were hot last night." She said.
His tawny eyes glittered. "When?"
"After I danced w-with," she stuttered slightly as she felt her cheeks grow hot again. "with Julius." She looked at the ground. "He kissed my hand." She showed him the back of her right hand, as if somehow, the kiss was imprinted there. "He- he's very handsome." she closed her eyes as she said this, feeling her cheeks burn.
"Is he?"
She opened her eyes and looked up at Beast. "Yes he is! Couldn't you see?" She asked.
"No."
"Didn't you see him at all last night?"
"Yes, I did."
She crossed her arms and huffed. "Well, he is handsome." She glared at him a little. His eyes were bright in the morning light from the window. She remembered seeing them that bright in the bath house, when he had asked her if she was sure. When she had wanted to know what else he might be hiding under his clothes.
"I'm hungry." She said suddenly, getting up. Beast also stood. He didn't move after that; he was waiting for her. "You go on ahead." She said to him, a little stiffly. "I'll meet you in the kitchen when I am dressed."
He walked to the door. She opened it for him and he stepped out. He turned and looked back at her. She paused for a second, then shut the door. She didn't hear him walking down the hall, but that didn't mean anything. He made no sound when he walked. After a few seconds though, she did hear the sound of heavy boots on wooden floorboards. They faded as they went down the hall. If she had been in a better mood, it would have piqued her curiosity.
Claire turned away from the door and to the box of dresses that Mrs. Kennie had given her. She rummaged through them, pulling out one the color of pale sunshine. It had creamy white accents and lace. There was also a pair of creamy white gloves and stockings. She dressed quickly, smoothing her dress in the front.
*** "Child, do you know when your birthday is?" Mrs. Kennie asked Claire when she entered the kitchen.
Claire thought for a long moment. "My mother told me I was born on the longest night of the year." She answered.
Mrs. Kennie studied the calender on the wall. "I don't keep up with the solstices, but that occurs this month I believe. Oh my!" She turned to Claire, giving her an apologetic look. "It was last night, child. I'm so sorry, I should have asked sooner, but it hadn't occurred to me until the party last night."
"It's all right." Claire said quickly, not sure why Mrs. Kennie was upset. Was there something special about birthdays?
"No no." Mrs. Kennie waved her off. "I will think of something, child." Now Claire was even more perplexed. Mrs. Kennie started pacing while she talked. "I was just thinking about how much you
have grown the past two months. You are older than I first guessed.” She stopped pacing and looked at Claire. "You would be, what, eight years old now?" She asked.
Claire was still puzzled. “No, I'm nine.”
Mrs. Kennie blinked in surprise. “You had it really rough before, didn't you?” She asked in sympathy.
Claire ducked her head. “I guess so. But I'm not there anymore.” She glanced at Beast who was standing in a corner, looking out at the room in general. She saw him turn his amber yellow eyes on her. She looked away quickly. She felt bad about sending him downstairs ahead of her. But it wasn't that big a deal, right? She took her seat at the table. She looked at Beast's empty chair and sighed.
Mrs. Kennie set a stack of pancakes in front of her and Claire attacked it immediately. She still had not gotten used to such good food all the time. She didn't even want to think about the things she ate at the junk yard any more. She still remembered her parents though. She would make a point to remember them for as long as she lived. That way, they wouldn't truly be gone. She smiled.
Finally Mrs. Kennie sat at the table. "I am truly sorry, child. I wish I would have had earlier notice, but I'm afraid we won't be able to do something tonight, perhaps next week."
The way she sounded, Claire felt that she was supposed to be disappointed in something. But what could she possibly be disappointed about? Everything was so awesome here. She tried to swallow quickly so she could tell Mrs. Kennie that.
It was then that one of the of the waiters entered the kitchen, an older man walking in behind him. "Uh, Mrs. Kennie, this gentleman just arrived. He says he has a message to deliver. To Miss Claire." Claire looked up, her mouth still full of pancakes.
She inspected the man while Mrs. Kennie spoke with him. He was old, with wisps of white hair barely covering the top of his head. His skin was wrinkled and his eyes were watery. He stood with a slight stoop, too. He was dressed in a black suit and tie. The coat of the suit had tails, as well. She thought that style had gone out ages ago, according to Mrs. Kennie's magazines.
While she was inspecting the messenger, she completely missed what he was saying. It wasn't until Mrs. Kennie turned back to her that she paid any attention. Mrs. Kennie smiled at her, though the smile seemed a little forced. "Isn't this wonderful, child? Now you have something to do. I know that your birthday was yesterday, but I think it's better to do something now rather than next week." She turned back to the older man. "You must give the Regent my thanks." She said tightly.
The Regent? Her attention was piqued now. "Julius sent you?" She asked the old messenger suddenly.
He turned to her, giving her a startled look. Then he nodded, bowing to her slightly. "Yes, young Miss. He has invited you to his manor for afternoon tea."
Claire scooted off of her chair. "When do we go?" She asked. She left her half-eaten pancakes behind. An excited feeling was building in her stomach. She was going to see Julius again! And so soon. She smiled. She was too worked up to eat any more anyway.
"Let me just fix your hair up, child." Mrs. Kennie said, reaching a hand out to her.
But Claire wanted to leave right away. "I ran a brush through it upstairs." Claire told Mrs. Kennie earnestly. "I'm ready to go now."
Mrs. Kennie gave her a wan smile. "All right, then."
The old gentleman bowed to Mrs. Kennie. "I will return Miss Claire by car at 7 O'clock tonight." Mrs. Kennie nodded. Claire followed the man out the kitchen door.
Once they were gone Mrs. Kennie frowned deeply. "Anything wrong?" Her waiter, Carlos, asked.
"It's the Regent... I've heard rumors about him. It was his birthday party was last night. That's how he met Claire." Mrs. Kennie had a musing look on her face.
"The Regent? He answers only to the High Empress and her council, right?" The waiter asked, impressed.
"Yes." Mrs. Kennie frowned. "He's still single, too."
The waiter looked at her, confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”
She sighed. "Oh I hope it's just an old woman's paranoia, but I don't feel right, Carlos."
"You... could have told Claire not to go." Carlos suggested.
Mrs. Kennie sighed. "I really couldn't. I'm not Claire's mother, she can go wherever she chooses, and you could tell she so desperately wanted to go. Even if I had that kind of control over her, I know the Upper Class. I refuse just the slightest request, and the restaurant is closed down because of a violation." She sighed heavily. "Oh, I really don't feel good about this." She turned to the shadow in the corner. "Well? Aren't you going after her?" She demanded.
The shadow straightened up and slipped silently out the door. Mrs. Kennie put a hand over her heart, relieved. But... she couldn't quite get rid of her uneasiness.
*** Claire sat in the back seat of the hovercar. She had never ridden in one before and inspected everything. There was buttons that controlled the lights and the windows. One button made cool air hit her, another had warm air. She pressed yet another button and a panel of light sprang up in front of her, startling her. Words and symbols scrolled across the bottom steadily and a serious looking woman was talking.
“Oh, I know what this is.” She said to herself. Mrs. Kennie was always going on about how she wanted a large light screen for the Main Hall. For sports parties and such. But they were expensive to set up.
“This is Julius' car?” She asked the elderly driver in disbelief. The Upper Class must really have a lot of money, to put a light screen in a hovercar.
“The Regent usually prefers to drive himself. But there are times that he does ride in this car, yes.” He answered, his eyes on the track. So Julius had a light screen in here, when he didn't even use this car that much.
Claire liked hovercars; they were interesting. They coasted along above tracks going through the streets. They couldn't go off the track or else they would stop moving. Claire wondered why that was. She should look it up when she got home. She turned her attention back to the light screen.
"The war continues to rage in the south. 368 dead, 1376 wounded in the last raid. Enemy forces are estimated at..." Claire watched the news for a bit, but she didn't understand a lot of it, and didn't find it interesting. She had gathered that war was something bad, horrible even, since it killed so many people. She hoped she never encountered it.
Then, a new story came up. "The High Empress announced today new laws concerning former slaves. It's been twenty years since the proclamation ending slavery was passed, at the end of the Slave war..."
As Claire's attention waned. Another war. She wondered if anything pleasant was ever on the news. Maybe it wasn't the violence Mrs. Kennie was saving her from. Maybe it was the boredom.
The hovercar glided to a halt. Claire shut off the light panel and looked out the window. The older man was opening the door for her. She stepped out and her eyes widened. "Miss Claire, welcome to Cantor Manor, in the heart of the Gold District." The old man sounded like he was reciting from memory. He had probably brought many guests to this manor, and had a whole speech planned out.
But Claire barely paid attention. She had never, ever seen a castle before, or even a picture of one. Her mother had told her about them though, in nighttime stories. Claire thought that if any building could be described as a castle, it was this one.
It was made of white stone that glittered in the sun. The roof tiles were emerald green. Two towers rose out of each end, slender and tall. In front was a wide, paved space that housed a huge fountain. At the center of the massive fountain was a statue of an archer, his bow drawn tight, ready to fire his stone arrow into the air. Red flowers lined the paved space, leading into a narrower path that ran right up to the front door.
Since they were in the Gold District, she was closer to the Steel District. Tall buildings rose up in the distance. Steel and glass towers taller than imagining. In the furthest distance, Claire could see something glittering. She squinted, but couldn't make it out.
The elderly driver escorted her to the
door. It was massive, made of dark wood and banded with metal. The air in front of it shimmered. The driver pressed his thumb to a panel next to the door and the shimmering wall dropped away and the massive doors creaked open. He led Claire into the Front Hall, then bowed and departed.
Claire lifted a hand up to stop him but the front doors were already closed. She stepped further into the Hall, more than a little nervous. It was cavernous, the walls and floor were white marble. The floor under her was polished so smooth that she could see her reflection. Two wide curved staircases led up to a second floor balcony. The ceiling was impossibly high, going past several floors lined with more balconies. It was made of thick, smoky glass.
As she looked around a door opened on the right side of the hall. A young, black clad maid walked in and bowed to Claire. "This way, Miss Claire. The Regent is awaiting you in the study."
Chapter V – Cantor Castle Julius studied the man standing across from him. A large mahogany desk lay between them, and Julius was sitting on the right side of it. Various light screens were open around him. He glanced at them, tapping a couple of keys on his desk before speaking. "And you know this for a fact?"
"Yes sir. We have witnesses on the front line that say it's so. Somehow the enemy has gotten a hold of energy weapons. They are wiping out the smaller camps as we speak." The man on the wrong side of the table spoke nervously. His gaze would dart around the large room anxiously, not wanting to meet those dark eyes across from him.
Julius leaned forward and placed his elbows on his desk. He steepled his fingers while he mused. After a time a decision was reached in his mind. He sat up straight. "I will direct a report to the High Empress." He stated briskly. "In the meantime let no one else know of this. It could cause panic in the higher ranks when we so desperately need their support."
The man nodded in relief. It was out of his hands now. He bowed deeply. "Yes, sir."
Julius studied the man critically. He rose from his desk and walked around it. "You're a married man, aren't you, Peaks?" Peaks nodded. "Yes sir. My wife is expecting her first child." Julius nodded. He punched a few buttons on his desk. "A momentous occasion, indeed. I will add a few extra units into your account. A birthday present for your new arrival." He smiled warmly. The smile did not reach his eyes.
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