Torchlighters

by Megan R Miller

  “Have you ever seen one?” Augury asked.

  “An aberrant ability?” Barghest asked, the other eyebrow lifting to join the first.

  “An angel,” Augury said.

  His first thought was of Ophelia.

  His next thought was a flash of a memory. A house covered in blood and a row of aristocratic heads lined up on the sharp spokes of dining room chairs. The eyes had been burned out, even the eyes of the one survivor. By the time they found her the last daughter of House Nostra was a gibbering shell.

  Ophelia was just a cadet at the time. She hadn’t taken it well.

  “No,” he said, finally. “Just the aftermath of one. I think I can pass on the real deal if possible.”

  “I couldn’t blame you for that,” she said. “They’re not what the aristocracy wants you to think they are.”

  “Yeah,” he said, “I’d believe that.”

  “The point is, the biggest difference is where in the outer planes they’re coming from to begin with. We couldn’t know for sure there are just two. In fact, we know that’s not the case. The ancients come from somewhere, too. There could be any number of other things.”

  Somewhere in the distance, twin bells began to echo over the city in perfect unison, declaring it was ten o’clock. Augury glanced up at him.

  “Hey, Tin Can?” she asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I ask you a favor?” she asked, not meeting his eyes now.

  “Sure?” he asked, waiting.

  “It’s just,” she started, then she paused and risked a glance at his eyes before continuing, “Don’t panic I’m sure it was nothing, but someone tried to break into my apartment last night. They already have an afrite, it probably has nothing to do with this I just thought I oughta make myself scarce for an evening.”

  “Oh, well,” he said. “You’re free to stay here. I can’t in good faith let you go home if something might happen.”

  She visibly relaxed.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I owe you one.”

  “It’s my job to make sure people are safe,” he said.

  “So you’ve said, Tin Can,” she said, cracking a little grin and leaning back on her hands. “We’ve got a lot more work to do, too, but…you know, there’s a reason I came here, and a reason I asked you. And not another freelancer friend. Just sayin’.”

  “I thought you were here because we were working on a case,” he said, allowing a shadow of a smirk to creep onto his lips.

  “Right now?” she asked. “Sure. That doesn’t mean I had to stay here or ask you. Give it a couple of minutes of real intense thought and I’m sure you’ll be able to wrap your head around that one.”

  “Well, I mean, this is obviously the safest place,” he said.

  “Oh,” she said, chuckling. “Yeah, I suppose it is. You’re downright benign.”

  “Those shoeshiners probably wouldn’t say that,” he said.

  She laughed now, hard and high, and when she met his eyes again, hers were like blue embers. She shook her head and all that hair spilled back over her shoulder.

  “Not the same kind of benign, Tin Can,” she said.

  “Then what do you mean?” he asked. He kept his voice level. She was clearly getting at something, here. He wasn’t sure how much of that fight she’d missed, but he’d contributed more than his fair share.

  “If I have to clarify you’re probably not old enough to hear it,” she said, a clear note of teasing in her voice as she got to her feet and bent to start gathering up her notes. The movement was unnecessarily slow. “Honestly, you act like no one’s ever tried to seduce you before.”

  “It’s been a while and they’re usually a bit more obvious about it,” he said. He let his eyes follow the curve of her waist, her hip, her leg.

  “Are the women that usually try to pick you up night walkers?” she asked. The laugh was on the corners of her lips, but she didn’t let it out this time. Instead, she sat her books in a stack on his bedside table.

  “Not all of them,” he said.

  “I’m not sure I believe you,” she teased.

  “Like I said, it’s been a while,” he said.

  “I’m starting to get it,” she said.

  “Get what?” he asked.

  “Your deal,” she said. She crossed her arms on the bedspread and left her back crooked as she looked up at him. There was a catlike quality to her gaze. “Why things went so sour for you. Why she walked off like she did.”

  Augury shook her head.

  “It’s alright. A swing and a miss it is.”

  Barghest flopped down on the bed and watched the cracks on the ceiling for a moment. He felt the mattress shift as she laid down next to him.

  “I see we’re back to not saying what we mean,” he said.

  “Which, in most circles, is better than not saying anything at all,” she said.

  “Has anyone ever told you you’re vague?” he asked.

  “No,” she said, “no they haven’t. I just told you flat out that I was trying to seduce you. I’m casting shadows everywhere. You, on the other hand, are ambivalent. A ‘no’ would have been perfectly fine.”

  There was just no way to respond to that. Since when had she been this complicated? He glanced at her sidelong and saw those blue eyes staring up at him with a mix of petulance and curiosity.

  “Alright. You’re trying to seduce me. Let’s focus on that, because that last bit kind of sounded like an insult, but I’m going to ignore it,” he said.

  “Not an insult,” she said, rolling to face him fully and propping her head up on her hand. “It’s just what happened. I’m trying to figure you out. Where the wounds are. You have to admit, Ophelia is one.”

  “I don’t feel like I have to admit anything,” he said.

  “Alright,” she said. “Don’t admit it. That doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

  “I don’t see what Ophelia has to do with anything,” he said.

  “You wouldn’t,” she said, snorting softly. “The point is I was practically undressing just now and you didn’t notice. Typically there are three, maybe four explanations for that.”

  “Is one of those explanations that practically is not actually?” he asked, raising a brow. He rolled to face her now.

  She stared at him for a moment, giving him a once over and pursing her lips. The frustration was evident on her face.

  “I hate being ignored, Barghest,” she said.

  “I’m not ignoring you,” he said. “You’re just not speaking my language.”

  Her mouth twisted a little farther into an unreadable expression for a beat before she leaned up. Her mouth crashed into his like licking flames, her free hand reaching up and around the crook of his neck. He returned the kiss as well as he could, his heart hammering in his chest. When she broke away, there was a little smile, like the mess left over of what they had just done.

  “You’re nervous,” she said. It wasn’t a question. For the first time since she’d started this mess, she sounded pleased.

  “Well, at least you’re being straightforward now,” he said. She chuckled and kissed him again, and while she had him otherwise occupied, he heard her reach over and dismiss the wisp in the bedside lamp, shrouding them in darkness.

  Things in Callum’s room weren’t where Ely remembered leaving them. There was a coffee cup on the desk and when she touched the side, it was still a little bit warm. That meant someone had been in here recently that wasn’t her.

  There were papers on the floor. There had been papers on the floor before, but these were new. There were drawings on them. She stepped carefully around the pile and that is when she heard the footsteps in the hall.

  She did what any sensible younger sister would do and stepped into the closet, shutting the door in front of her and watching out the slats.

  “You promised caramel,” a female voice whined.

  “Will you be quiet?” a male voice responded. That was a male voice she knew. When the bedr
oom door shut, she leaned a little bit to confirm what she already strongly suspected. “We’ll go just as soon as I grab my notes, I have somewhere I need to be right now.”

  “The only place you need to be,” Ely said, stepping out of the closet, “is coming with me to help me move a body unless you want me to tell Mom you’re still alive.”

  “Fucking—Ely, what the hell are you doing in here?” Callum asked. He looked furious for a second before it caught up with him exactly what was happening and he clenched his fist, looking away from her. “Damn…listen, I can explain all of this.”

  “I’m not asking you to explain, I’m telling you that you’re going to help me move a body,” Ely said. She walked over and sat on the foot of his bed, crossing one ankle behind the other like a proper lady and watching him. “I left it in the alley out behind the academy under some crates. I have a couple of days before they find it, but I’d rather get it back before rot sets in. Even winter chill will only keep it so fresh.”

  “Have I mentioned you’re a freak?” Callum asked, furrowing his brow. “No, I’m not going to help you move a body. Why the fuck did you leave one in an alley anyway? How the fuck did you leave one in an alley? What were you doing that left you in the kind of situation—”

  “He was attacking my friend. He had a gun. So I shot him,” Ely said.

  “You don’t have a gun,” Callum said.

  “I do,” she said. “It’s yours.”

  “You—” he sputtered. His face turned red and he had to reign himself in so he wouldn’t shout and give himself away. When he spoke again his voice was quieter and more controlled. “You took my gun out of my room?”

  “You were dead. You weren’t using it,” Ely said, shrugging.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not dead,” Callum said.

  “But for some reason you want everyone to think you are and if you want them to keep thinking you are you let me keep the gun for now and help me move the body,” she said, and smiled. “I’m glad we had this talk.”

  “Tell him to get me some caramels,” the imp said, tail swishing from her place on his shoulders.

  “And get your imp some caramels,” Ely said, her little smile turning to a full on grin.

  “Ooh, I like her,” the imp said, her long tail curling up to tickle the bottom of Callum’s chin.

  “Don’t you even care that I’m alive?” Callum said.

  “Of course I do,” Ely said, getting to her feet. “You’re going to help me move a body. It would be a big pain in the butt to do it myself.”

  Before he could respond or move, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his torso in a tight hug.

  “You made me cry my own tears,” she said. “If you ever do that again I’ll make sure you die for real.”

  It was the closest to ‘I love you’ as she was going to get to saying to him in private. Callum seemed to realize this and he sighed as he hugged her back. For a second, it wasn’t even awkward, and then the two of them stepped away from one another.

  “Seriously though I need that gun,” he said.

  “You can have it if you help me move the body,” Ely said, “and if you don’t I’m still going to tell Mom.”

  “You’re a demon,” Callum said.

  “You’re way more a demon than I am,” Ely said.

  “You know what I meant,” Callum said.

  She smiled. She did. Actually, as much of a pain in the ass as she was being, she really was glad to have him back.

  “How’d you get through the halls without them seeing you?” Ely asked.

  “It’s four in the morning, if there’s business to be done at the docks that’s what Dad is doing right now, and Mom has a meeting the day after tomorrow. I heard her turn in hours ago before I left,” Callum said.

  “Calculating,” Ely said. “I respect that. Come on, if we’re quiet we should be fine.”

  She slipped out of the room and a moment later Callum followed, his hands shoved to the wrists in his jacket pockets. He had a sour look on his face, but Ely didn’t comment on that; people usually did when she outmaneuvered them.

  She scratched Ashes between the ears on her way by and the two of them stepped out the side kitchen door. The walk to the academy took about forty five minutes and by then the telltale blue of dawn could be seen just over a few of the academy buildings. They tended to be smaller and more wide-spread, but in the city proper they should have a little more time before ‘day’.

  The imp disappeared from Callum’s shoulder in a cloud of sulfur-smelling smoke and reappeared on Ely’s as she crept around the stack of crates she and Martin had left here.

  “You know,” the imp said, “I really thought you were kidding at first, but you weren’t, were you?”

  “I’m never kidding when I kill a man,” Elysia said, drawing her face to a schooled blank. After a beat, she and the imp both laughed. She moved a couple of the crates and waved Callum over.

  “…if you had to shoot someone did he have to be this big?” Callum asked in a harsh whisper. He moved to the feet and Ely locked her arms beneath the corpse’s. Rigor had set in and so had the frost. It made him difficult to move at first. She made a displeased sound. “Where are we taking him?”

  “Well he was the one that attacked my friend. I didn’t really choose his size,” Ely said. “And all the way back to the house.”

  “As funny as I think it would be to see the two of you struggling to take a two hundred pound corpse all the way across town,” the imp said, “I think I might be able to help with this.”

  She disappeared and the scent of sulfur filled the air again before she reappeared on the dead man’s chest.

  “Now it’s a two hundred and ten pound corpse,” she said. “Just kidding. Ashes, you had better get me caramel for this.”

  Her fingers were long and knotted, and she pressed them into the man’s shirt with gusto. A moment later, she and the corpse were gone.

  “She had better not have taken him to my bedroom,” Callum said.

  “You gave her the name of the family dog?” Ely asked.

  “It’s a long story,” Callum said.

  “I’m sure it’s not as long as you’re thinking it is,” Ely said.

  They walked together for a few minutes, Ely kicking rocks when she saw them and Cal with his hands in his jacket pockets. They were almost at Brimstone Square when something in her insides twisted and it finally hit her full force.

  He was really here.

  She would get to see him again.

  She would get to see him again as many times as she wanted to and he wasn’t going anywhere.

  He wasn’t in his grave.

  He wasn’t gone.

  She stopped in her tracks and he paused in his, looking back over his shoulder with a raised brow. She furrowed both of hers.

  “You really suck for leaving,” Ely said. “You’re not allowed to do it again after you already died once.”

  “You’re getting dangerously close to sentiment, little sister,” Callum said.

  “You’re getting dangerously close to my fist in your face,” she said. She hugged his arm, then. He turned and hugged her back, full on.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought I’d be able to figure out who did it more easily if they still thought I was dead, and then I thought they wouldn’t believe it if Dad didn’t fly off the handle and then I started finding clues and I just…kept finding reasons…”

  “Reasons you’d rather be dead than with us?” Ely asked. She knew it was a low blow, but just then she didn’t care. So was dying. So was leaving them when he could have helped it.

  “More like I’m afraid to come out and tell them I’m not dead,” Callum said. “Not without some hard evidence that all of this was worth it. I go now, they never trust me again. I come back with something rational and maybe they forgive me.”

  “They’ll forgive you,” Ely said. “They forgave me when I broke Nona’s cuckoo clock open for parts. They’ll
forgive you for this. That’s what parents are for.”

  “Dad hated that clock,” Callum said. “They’re kind of starting a war over this and I’m not even sure the Gate Street Players did it…”

  His eyes shifted left. He was lying, at least partially. She didn’t mention it.

  “They did a lot of other things,” Ely said. She slipped her arm in his and started to walk again, watching their feet as they went. “They’ve killed a lot of innocent people. They don’t take care of their district. They’ve been trying to muscle into ours in a moment of weakness. Did you know they once beat Dad and Uncle Danny black and blue when they were younger for daring to stand up to them? The Gate Street Players aren’t good people.”

  “We burn people alive,” Callum said.

  “People who deserve it,” Ely said.

  “I don’t know if you can really say anyone deserves to die that way,” Callum said. “You’ve seen it.”

  “It’s really ghastly,” Ely said. “And it does it’s job. Do you know how many people Dad’s burned since the first time I saw it?”

  Callum looked at her sidelong.

  “None. We don’t have to do it often because people see it happen, know what brings it on and avoid doing those things like the plague because it isn’t worth it. So a few murderers and rapists die screaming and blistering in demon’s fire and the next ten people that might have harmed those under our protection think twice,” Ely said. “It’s cruel, but it isn’t cruel for no reason.”

  “It’s not the kind of thing forgiving people do,” Callum said.

  She almost shot back that forgiving people were foolish, but then she remembered what they were really talking about. She exhaled through her nose, a curl of steam breaking the frigid air.

  “You’re their son,” Ely said, finally. “If I can forgive you, because you are my brother whom I love, then Dad will forgive you, because you are his son whom he thought he lost and came back anyway. They’re going to be angry, yes. I’m kind of angry, too. They might try to confine you to the house or lord it over you for months, maybe years, but they’ll be happy to get you back. And I know you’ll be happy to get them back too.”