by Amanda Fleet
I moved to sit cross-legged, frowning. If all this had had to happen on Realm soil, why was the mist out here? This wasn’t the Realm. Not enough leather for a start.
The vitality that was released could be collected by another Guide and taken to Chaos to be reunited with the character. Presumably, that was by a non-corrupted Guide. I wondered what happened if you killed a rogue Guide in the vicinity of other rogue Guides. Did the others gobble up the released vitality before it could be retrieved? What if there weren’t any friendly Guides nearby? Did the vitality just float about until one came along?
Is this how any of it worked, anyway? I had no deep faith in any religion. When you died, you died, and that was it. Was I really made up of three parts, the way this book described? The idea that my character would come back in someone new was quite comforting, though. The idea that bad characters also came back was somewhat less comforting.
If the Guide wasn’t dispersed by a Guardian and didn’t continue to steal vitality, the energy it had taken would slowly leak away, making the Guide less and less powerful. Eventually, it would revert to being a wraith. From the wraith-like form, it could either behave and shepherd spirits as intended or it could go back to stealing the life-force out of people and become corporeal again. A wraith couldn’t be dispersed. Only a Guide with corporeal form could.
Before I could read any more, the roar of Finn’s bike sounded in our lane. I scooped the book up and hurried downstairs to take the bolts and chain off the door just as Finn’s key turned in the lock.
“Hey,” he said, taking off his helmet. “What’s up? And why are you so pink?”
He hooked his arm around the back of my neck and pulled me into a kiss.
“Um. Hot. I was cold, so I went up to bed. Oh. The GP gave me some stuff this morning.”
“Yeah?” He smiled, peeling off his jacket and hanging it on the hooks in the hallway. “And counselling?”
“Yeah, but that’ll take time to come through. Have you eaten?”
“Mm. Stop deflecting. Why didn’t you want me to see Rick?”
I turned away, the book still clutched in my hand, and walked into the lounge. Finn followed me. I scrunched myself into the corner of the sofa, wondering how to tell him what I was worried about, without sounding as if I’d lost the plot. He sat next to me, peering at me from beneath furrowed brows.
“Come on. Shoot.”
His gaze drifted down to the book and his jaw bunched.
“Promise to hear me out?”
“Yes,” he said, slowly.
I told him. With every sentence, his brows crept higher. Eventually, I tailed off. “You’re not buying this, are you?”
He pushed his shoulders up. “Do I think there’s a demon out there killing people, that currently looks like Rick and that I shouldn’t talk to my best friend about his relationship going tits-up in case he murders me? No. I think there’s an outbreak of flu at the moment and that some bastard is killing people and dumping the bodies at the quarry, which is bad enough, but not fantastical. What did the GP give you?”
Tears stung my eyes at his dismissal. “Sleeping tablets and anti-anxiety stuff.”
“Okay. Get a good night’s sleep tonight, take some of the other pills and see whether you still think all this tomorrow.”
I gritted my teeth. “Finn—”
He held his hand up. “Nah. I love you… to the moon and back… but that doesn’t mean I have to buy into you saying there are demons murdering people and impersonating my best mate.”
I blinked hard, wanting to cry with frustration. Finn coiled an arm around me and drew me against him.
“Shh. Come on. You’re tired and strung out, that’s all.” He kissed the side of my head and leaned back, taking me with him.
I punched his chest. “That’s not all! How do you explain the book?”
He held my gaze, saying nothing. He still thought I could have made it.
His thumb rubbed the groove of my spine at the small of my back. “Come on. Get changed and let’s go climbing.”
I nodded, giving in rather than fighting over it – for now. I knew that I hadn’t written this book. There was no corner of my imagination that could have invented this, even if I could have been printing runes and drawing in my sleep. Maybe one of the Scouts would spot that Aegyir was free again and some of the Guardians would come and sort it out. Maybe some of the Guardians were already here and would take Aegyir into the Realm to disperse him.
After all, I wasn’t a Guardian and all the stabbing and beheading worked better on Realm soil. According to the book, we were Outside with no way to cross into the Realm without an invitation.
13
“Reagan.”
I was walking back from the gym the following afternoon and I turned, surprised to see Rick next to me. I hadn’t heard him approach. I’d had a good night’s sleep for once and the idea that Aegyir was anything more than a myth, never mind impersonating one of my friends seemed less credible today. Nonetheless, I scoured him, trying to see any sign that he wasn’t actually Rick, but he looked just like he always did – jeans, black t-shirt, leather jacket, heavy stubble. The only difference was his dreadlocks were wild this afternoon, rather than fastened back in a bandana.
“Hi. How are you? Everything okay?”
He fell into step with me. “Everything is fine. Why would it not be?” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes and a cold feeling zipped through my body.
“Well, you didn’t come to pot-luck on Tuesday and Billy’s a bit worried about things between you.”
His brow creased as if he was trying to recall something he’d forgotten, and he didn’t reply. I tried to see his pupils but his eyes were naturally so dark it was difficult to see if they were pin-point or not.
“Rick, can I ask you something?” He didn’t say no, so I ploughed on. “You’re not taking drugs are you?”
“Why?” He shoved his hands in his pockets, smiling at me.
“Because you seem pretty spaced. And Billy wondered if you were stoned when he came over.”
Instead of turning to cross the end of the main shopping street to head home, I half backtracked on myself, cutting down a side street so that we emerged back on the road leading towards the gym. This part of town was busier than the walk home and Rick was making me feel uneasy. For the first time in my life, I didn’t want to be in a quiet alleyway with him and the realisation sent cold goose bumps over my skin.
“As I have said, everything is fine. I have not been stoned. Are you going home? I will walk with you.”
“No, I’m going to the gym.” I strode determinedly back towards the safety of work.
Rick’s stride lengthened to match mine. “But you have just come from there.”
How did he know? Had he been watching me?
I tried to shake the thought away, but it clung on stubbornly.
“I forgot something,” I lied.
“I will walk with you. I want to speak to you.”
This wasn’t the Rick I knew and loved. His speech patterns were all wrong and it wasn’t due to drugs. It was like he was someone else entirely.
Shit.
“I have a copy of Finn’s dragon for you,” I said, my heart racing.
“Finn’s dragon?” He frowned, narrowing his eyes.
“Yeah. You’re always on at me about it. I’ll let you have a copy.”
“Thank you.”
He had no idea what I was talking about. As we turned back towards the gym, I checked I knew where every CCTV camera was en route.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” I said, my thoughts tumbling.
“Finn.”
I hadn’t expected that. “Finn? What about him? He’s worried he’s going to get caught in the middle between you and Billy.”
“I wanted to talk to him. Can I come over?”
“Since when did you need an invitation, Rick?”
His eyes glittered and he smirked as if I’d
said something funny. “I need to see him. Perhaps I will just come over one day.”
The way he said it, it sounded like a threat.
We’d reached the gym and I squinted through the glass door, hoping to see someone I knew. “You coming in to see Billy?”
“No. Not today.” He held my gaze, face hard.
And then he flickered.
It was as if there were two images, superimposed on one another. One was Rick. The other was the thing I’d seen in my interview.
Aegyir.
I took a step back, increasing the distance between us, my heart lurching.
Aegyir smiled. “Say hello to Finn for me. I will see him soon. I know where to find him. And you.”
He glanced at my wrist. In my peripheral vision, I saw that the charm was glowing. Before I could say anything, Aegyir morphed back into Rick and strode away.
I hurried into the gym and prayed that a boxing bag was free. I needed to kick the shit out of something.
***
I was still punching and kicking when Finn found me an hour later. Sweat poured off me and I felt like over-cooked spaghetti, but however much I hit, nothing erased the monster I saw in every blink.
“What’s up?” Finn steadied the bag against his shoulder as I pummelled it.
“Tell you at home.”
“Okay. Shall we go? You look like you’re running on empty.”
I stopped, my arms instantly hanging limply at my sides. I tipped forwards and rested my head on the bag.
“Go hit the shower. I’ll meet you in the cafe,” said Finn. “You look beat.”
I eased myself upright. He was still there. Every blink. I felt sick, his last words ringing around my brain.
“Rea?” Finn caught me around the waist as my vision swam. “Okay. Never mind the shower. Let’s get you home.”
“Sorry. Bad afternoon.”
“Yeah, I can see. What the hell’s happened?”
He peered closely at me, his eyes clouded with worry. I had no words of reassurance for him.
“Right. You gonna manage the bike? ’Cause if you’re not, I’m carrying you.”
“I’ll manage. Sorry.”
Finn supported me out to the bike. I hadn’t been expecting to be on it and had no leathers or Kevlar or helmet. Finn handed me his jacket and I shrugged it on. It swamped me and left him in just a hoodie and jeans. Then again, I was in a t-shirt, sweatshirt and tracksuit bottoms.
“You’ll freeze,” I said.
“I’m not gonna go that fast! And I’m certainly not wearing my jacket and leaving you to freeze.”
I didn’t argue. I was already beginning to chill from the sweat. He thrust his helmet at me and I slid on to the bike, wrapping my arms around his middle when he got on. Finn drove back with one hand clutching my clasped hands against his abdomen. I hoped we wouldn’t get clocked by the police or any traffic cameras.
“So, what’s happened?” he said as soon as we were in.
“In a bit. I need a shower.”
I had no idea how to tell him what had happened without sounding like I was losing it completely.
“Okay. Share? I need one and anyway, I don’t trust you not to collapse.”
Upstairs, I stripped off my sweat-soaked things and left them where they fell. The shower was over the bath and Finn switched it on and helped me step in. My legs were barely holding me up and I leaned my weight back against him.
“Tell me what happened?” he said, steering me under the water to wet my hair before rubbing some shampoo through it.
“Promise not to think I’m going mad.”
“Do my best.”
I told him. I could tell from the silence that he didn’t believe the last bit. The bit about Rick turning into the demonic figure I’d seen in my interview. As I talked, he rinsed my hair, soaped my body and kept me upright as the water cascaded over me. When I ground to a halt over what had happened, he turned the water off and scraped his hands over his face and body. He handed me a towel, and held my hands as I clambered out of the bath.
“And,” I said, remembering something I hadn’t told him. “I told Rick I had a copy of your dragon for him and he had no idea what I was talking about!”
He rubbed a towel over himself, saying nothing. The expression in his eyes told me he was biting something back and I gritted my teeth.
“Finn, you do believe me? About Rick changing?”
He picked up his kit off the floor, scooped up my things and tossed the whole lot into the washing basket in the bedroom. “I believe that you think you saw that. Do I believe that Rick is a demonic figure, wrapped in the body of Rick? Nope. Sorry.” He hugged me against him and kissed me tenderly. “Come and talk to me while I cook.”
Solid, sensible, down-to-earth Finn. Some of the many qualities I loved about him, but they infuriated me tonight. I followed him down to the kitchen and watched the muscles of his shoulder flexing as he chopped an onion. I picked at the label on the bottle of beer I nursed, frustrated at my inability to get him to believe me.
I knew I was tired. I knew I was stressed about Stephen.
I also knew I’d seen Rick morph into Aegyir and that Aegyir knew I’d seen it.
And that scared me more than Stephen claiming unfinished business.
***
While Finn would run off any stress, my solution was to draw. Finn was finishing the washing up after dinner and I leaned against his back. “Can I sketch you this evening?”
“Can I have clothes on for it? It’s cold.”
“Yeah. Some. Keep the shirt off?”
He peered over his shoulder at me, one brow raised. “You just want me for my body.”
“Can’t deny that’s partly true. You are very sexy, my man. But you know I love you for more than that.”
He turned and pulled me into a long kiss, soapy hands dripping suds down my neck. “Oh, Rea, I love you.”
“I love you too. To the moon and back.”
“And then all the rest.”
He kissed me again before drawing back and gazing at me, his eyes so full of love I felt as if I would burst. “We can’t just go to bed?”
“No. I need to draw.”
“Aagh. Alright. What do you need me in? Jeans?”
In the lounge, he peeled off his top and I put the electric fire on. It was cold.
He sat on the floor, his back against the edge of the sofa and smiled at me. “Come on then. Pose me.”
I arranged him how I wanted him – sitting on the floor with his arms along the seat of the sofa and his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle – and took up a position to his left, sitting cross-legged on the chair. He looked across at me but I shook my head.
“Focus on the telly?”
“Can I watch the telly?” he said, sounding grouchy.
“No, because then you won’t sit still. I’ll be as quick as I can be.”
“You’ve had enough bloody practice.”
He sounded as if he was grumbling, but I caught the twinkle in his eye. “Yeah, well, you’re a mighty fine specimen to draw. Sit still!”
He did, allowing me to sketch the curve of his shoulder muscles and the tattoo that swirled over his upper arm, its image distorted both by the position of his arms and by the angle I was at. I had to force myself to forget that I knew it was Celtic knotwork and concentrate on the pattern I could see. I moved on to draw the notch in his collarbone at the base of his throat, then his torso. I finished the rest of the drawing as swiftly as I could, aware that even with the fire on, it was chilly, then flipped the cover of my sketchpad closed and put it at my side. Immediately, Finn wriggled, rolling and flexing his shoulders and hands as if he’d been motionless for days.
“You done?” He sounded more brusque than he was.
“Yeah. I’m done.” I laughed.
He pulled his rugby shirt back on and sat on the sofa. I crawled up beside him and tucked against him. “Thank you. You are a very patient man
.”
“Stretch out with me?”
He lay along the length of the sofa, before pulling me until I was lying on him, his hands resting lightly at the small of my back.
“Have you phoned your mum yet today?”
“No.” He arched his hips up against me as he pulled his phone out of his back pocket.
“Hi, Mum. It’s me.” He touched the screen of his phone as he put it on the arm of the sofa. “You’re on speaker-phone and Rea’s here. How are things?”
“Fine. Fine.”
“Dad in?” Code for “Are you able to talk?”
“He’s at the pub. Any news on the break-in?”
“Nope.” Finn shifted under me, wincing. I sniggered. I’d been lying on his tackle. He mouthed a shush at me, a smile lifting one side of his lips. “The police have said there were no fingerprints either in the house or on the sledgehammer. It was Stephen though. We saw him on Sunday night and he was bragging about wearing gloves.”
“Did you keep your cool?”
I could imagine Alison’s face as she said it – raised brows, worried the answer might be ‘No’.
“Yeah, of course.” He rolled his eyes at me but I was with Alison on this.
His mum started into a long tale about Mrs Davies from down the road who was getting her bathroom done, but Finn wasn’t listening. He dipped his head to kiss me softly, but not silently it would seem.
“Finn, are you still there?” said Alison, breaking into her own train of words.
“Yep.” Finn pulled a face at me.
I swallowed a laugh and blew on his neck, making him squirm. He unceremoniously dumped me on the floor and grabbed his phone, taking it off speaker-phone.
“No, no. Sorry. Rea fell off the sofa.” He planted his foot on me to stop me getting back up. Bad move. His feet were even more ticklish than his neck. He snatched them back up to the sofa out of my reach and held a hand out to me, palm out.
“Hang on a sec, Mum… Rea, cut it out! Hi, I’m back… No, she was tickling me… Yeah, she’s fine… Though she might not be fine if she doesn’t quit tickling me.”
He only had one hand free whereas I had two, allowing me to attack his feet with impunity. Finn was now laughing too much to be able to talk properly.
