Mirror Bound

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  Now, Frances was musing: 'I have indeed missed them, but they didn't come every day anyway. Let me see, Monday, Tuesday, when did Julia have Jonas over, darling?' Sir Nomes thought, then replied: 'That was Tuesday, they took those white dress pictures in the morning, and he went out alone in the afternoon.' 'I saw dryads on Monday, but now I'd swear they tried to tell me something. But they're not very smart, you see, and they speak in riddles.'

  She clearly berated herself for not listening to the faeries when they came to her for help.

  Lukas said in a quiet voice: 'Maybe there are some left, can you call them to you, when everything is quiet? If you take the time and ask any who turn up what has happened to the rest, you may learn something important.'

  Strengthened by the prospect to be able to do something after all, Frances promised: 'If you show me the trees that are in trouble, I'll nurse them until you free the faeries, I have seldom lost a plant I really wanted to live.'

  'And that is the bare truth,' her husband said, fondly. Frances continued: 'And I will come here during twilight tonight, see if a faerie wants to see me, and if one does, I'll call for you, and you can speak to it, George. Maybe you'll understand it better.'

  'And if we learn anything, we'll let you know, shall I send you a messenger?'

  Sir Nomes asked Paul. Paul suggested, looking at Lukas questioningly:

  'Maybe Lukas won't mind running over, he always runs for an hour each morning, he'd easily make it to this place, make a tour of your park without whichever part of clothing he'd like to lose, then dress again, get the message and run back.' Lukas nodded fervently: 'I'd love to do that, if you agree,' this at Sir Nomes.

  'I certainly do, and I'm sure Frances would love to give you a cup of tea and some Greek conversation whilst you take a little break.' So that was decided, and then we continued our tour of the greenhouse, leaving it by the back door, looking out over an empty lot, which was weird, for one would expect it to be planted like the rest of the garden.

  'And this is where it is supposed to happen,' our host now told us, 'Frances wants to have another greenhouse here, to grow our own coffee-beans of that special variety.' Against better judgement, I said: 'But coffee-beans don't grow in hothouses.'

  Sir Nomes laughed, and retorted: 'That is what I said about three other things in that greenhouse over there, and Frances made them grow there just to prove me wrong. But the important thing is, I like that new glass building that they are building in your quarter, the one that looks like Crystal Palace, only prettier.

  I thought, if we hire the same architect, and a contractor for the glass, would you do the iron work for us, for your usual fee of course?'

  Paul and I looked at each other and smiled: that was my building they were talking about. Still, what Paul said next surprised me a lot: 'Melissa knows that building intimately, she is the building inspector at that site.

  It is her job to calculate every possible force or pressure that a building has to be able to bear to be safe, and she can see through every part of any material to check its soundness. I put it to you, that she can design a greenhouse for you, and Lukas and I can build the frame for you. You'd only need to contract the glazing, but Melissa knows every contractor in town.'

  They needed to think about that, and to be honest, I did too. Designing a building was a different cup of tea from inspecting one. But I never realized Paul had remembered so much detail about my work, and his total trust in me flattered me.

  He wouldn't suggest this if he didn't think I could do it. 'Think about it,' Paul said, 'I'd love to do a project from start to finish, and there is no-one I trust more than Melissa, but it's your property and money.

  We'll keep in touch over the dryads anyway, won't we? We still don't know who took the souls, and how they got on your property without your alarms going off. We'd better get back home now, I don't look forward to crossing that factory site again, let alone in the dark.'

  I shuddered to think of it, and though the sun would not go down for some time yet, I didn't want to cross it in daylight either. 'I had hoped to keep you for dinner,' George said, 'I can have you taken back in a carriage, no problem.'

  To be honest, I longed to be home again, these were nice people, but I missed physical contact, and the constant banter that I didn't know the origins of tired me. I'd have to get used to this family in small easy steps, and I missed the privacy I had at home.

  It seemed to me that Lukas wanted to go home as well, though I couldn't think why, he seemed like a fish in water amidst these nobles. Paul seemed to have his own reasons for not wanting to stay for dinner, for he made a polite excuse about being tired, and seeing more of each other now we had a common quest.

  So we took our leave, and started the long walk back. Bertha waved at us from the big house, and we soon crossed the little wood to the gate and passed through it. The transition to the real world was instantaneous, from the countryside manor to the city in the blink of an eye. As much as I liked the

  country, personally I preferred the city, though not the parts we'd have to traverse now. But our return trip was uneventful, and in half an hour we were back home.

  I had some calculations to do, so I planned to retreat to my own apartment, and Paul suggested to Lukas they might do a little more work on an elaborate bronze bathtub due for delivery in two days. Lukas did not look happy about my leaving him, so I asked him if he needed to talk about something that happened at the estate, and he nodded vigorously.

  I asked: 'Just me, or all of us?' Paul interjected: 'I think I know what happened, would you mind if I stay? I think I can set it right, partly at least.'

  Lukas said: 'If you understand, please explain, I thought I understood your culture now but I'm getting more and more confused.'

  Of course, I didn't understand one bit of all this talk, which irritated me after an afternoon of innuendo, so I'm afraid I commanded: 'All right, both of you, quit the innuendo and out with it. I've heard hints and allusions the whole afternoon, and I'm sick of it.

  Common English please!' Though a bit over the top, it had two effects I desired, Paul took me to the couch, sat me down in the middle with him on one side, and wrapped me in his arms. Physical contact, strike one.

  Lukas crashed on the other side, really close to me, and laid his curly head on my shoulder, then he started to speak: 'I went with the little girl, we checked out some trees that her sister's boyfriend had photographed because he thought they were beautiful. Some were fine, most were not. I told her we needed to tell you, but she took me to her mother instead, telling me her mum knew everything about plants.

  Which is true, as I found out, but she also immediately saw me for what I am, a satyr, and that seemed to turn her on instantly.

  She was married and I was with friends who were allies with her husband, but when I told her this she laughed and replied in excellent Greek, that her husband knew exactly what she was doing here. They had an arrangement, she said.

  She was sweet, and quite pretty, and since she already knew what I was I let her touch my hair to look at the horn stumps. She stroked me really nicely until she found them, then fondled the stumps and their bases. It is as if she knew that'd drive me mad, for she showed me she had no underwear under her dress.

  I managed to control myself, but I didn't know what to do, so I just stood there, which I'm sure stimulated her to no end. She wanted to see my hoofs as well, so she removed my shoes, amazed at their ingeniousness, I may add.

  Then my pants, and I must admit I still didn't move. She fondled my hoofs, my hocks, stroking my legs up to my buttocks, where she was thrilled to find my tail. She was really sweet, but I also felt a bit like a favourite horse being fondled, she stroked my mottled skin, under my shirt, removing that as well, until I was stark naked.

  Of course I had a full erection by now, and she eagerly licked it, took it in her mouth slowly, temptingly. Then she got up and kissed me, caressing the base of my horns again, and then I lost it. I k
issed her back like maniac, and she offered herself to me where we stood. I plunged into her, her hands still on my horns, stimulating me to greater and greater efforts. She made a lot of noise, and seemed to enjoy herself, continuing to urge me on.

  I spilled my seed in her and felt, well, a bit dirty. As if I had been bad. I'm afraid your morals are rubbing off on me. She noticed I wasn't happy about it and said she was sorry, then we rearranged our clothes and sat there, and she totally made up for it, for we talked really nicely about, well everything.

  She was like a mother when we were sitting there, and I have missed my mum ever since she passed away, so I felt better about being there and meeting her. I mean, it wasn't a big deal, we had sex, and she liked it.

  And I really liked talking to her in my own language. And then you came and I kept a straight face, but when her husband started hinting at it, I realized he knew, he had known before it happened, even enjoyed the idea. And I felt used all over again, realizing his offer to me to use his grounds for swimming and running without shoes was an invitation to do his wife.

  To satisfy her lust for non-humans or for younger men, I don't know. I still like her a lot, and I would love to meet her again, and talk with her as a son, but I don't know if I'd be able to have sex with her. One doesn't do that with one's mother.'

  I just couldn't believe my ears, Lukas felt used! But I did have to believe it after a while, and he looked so sad and vulnerable, as if he didn't have the right to refuse sex because of what he was, and I hugged him tightly and told him: 'You may refuse sex any time you want, and you have every right to feel used. I'm certain you've never forced yourself on anyone.'

  And now Paul sat on his other side, putting an arm around him, and said: 'I

  must confess I knew George and Frances had a marriage of convenience. She has a taste for younger men, especially non-humans, and he prefers lovers of the same sex.

  Of course that could ruin him if anyone found out, so he married an artistic, nice woman of the same class, both knowing the other's preferences and giving each other space. It usually works really well for them, but had I known she wouldn't give you time to make up your mind I would have saved you from her.

  I'm sorry Lukas, you were indeed used, though I think she realizes it. If you want to, I'll speak to her so it won't happen again. I suppose you do want to see her again, seeing as they've the one place in this world where you can truly be yourself?'

  This made Lukas doubt himself again: 'Of course I want to go there again, I like her. Now I find it hard to understand why I didn't just enjoy the situation and the sex. Do you think I'm really changing my morals?

  Thank you for wanting to help me, Paul, I appreciate it, though I do think I need to talk to her myself. Maybe I'll even start to like her in that way, but I'd like it to be my own decision.' Now the time was ripe to tease him a little:

  'You may turn into a Victorian yet, dear Lukas. Be very, very careful! Better go to a rave-party again soon.'

  Ignoring my foolish bantering, Paul asked Lukas: 'With this off your chest, are you ready to put in an hour on that bathtub together? Let Melissa finish her calculations, and we can discuss the rest we learned over dinner.'

  Chapter 22

  It was nice to immerse myself in the restful world of figuring. I always felt an inner peace come over me when I was calculating, getting the same result twice was the ultimate reality to me. I found one little mistake, but nothing serious, I would set the architect right tomorrow, and look at the building with other eyes, as if I were going to build a similar structure.

  What would I improve, what would I emulate?Within half an hour the figures were correct, and the world was real again. I was ready for another dose of faeries, and I was especially ready to be with my friends again, both of them.

  A good brainstorm might turn up a clue to free the faeries and save their trees. Since I wasn't any good at cooking, and both my friends were, I decided not to go to the kitchen to make a start on it, but to watch them work instead.

  I felt a little buzz in my head, something had been said today which had a connection to something else, but it had eluded me so far. I could try to get the bit of information back, see what Paul and Lukas made of it. It had to do with only the beautiful trees being affected, I had scanned several patches of forest, but those trees were all fine. What was the connection?

  These thoughts still occupied my mind when I descended several flights of stairs and arrived in the workshop. Paul and Lukas didn't look up when I came in, they were welding a very complicated seam, and it needed both sets of hands and their full concentration.

  I wondered if this work gave them the same peace of mind my calculations gave me, I guessed it did. They were a magnificent team, each man doing his own part of the job, but always aware of the other. They did not speak much, they seemed to know exactly what to do.

  After ten minutes the weld was finished, and Paul exclaimed: 'Well done, Lukas! I couldn't have finished that weld better myself. And I could not have executed it at all on my own. You're picking this up so quickly, it took me months to learn that technique.'

  Pleased, Lukas asked him: 'Where did you learn the craft?' Paul answered: 'I

  grew up a younger son of high-born parents, so I started out with a tutor, learning to speak French, and Latin and Greek. My parents being guardians themselves, and with me the most talented of their brood, I escaped being sent to boarding school, for they wanted to teach me magic personally from an early age.

  But to give me a little experience with the outside world and other children of my age, they sent me to foster with Sir Nomes and his family, where I could continue to learn magic though of a different school, and where I could practice without endangering myself and others.

  I know a lot of offensive magic, and that needs to be practised endlessly before one can be trusted to really use it. Mistakes are generally deadly.

  Maybe that is what caused me to become so obsessed with being in control, and unable to show my feelings. I've been used to handle a lot of responsibility from a very young age, my parents meant well, but I never had the chance to be a child until I got to live with the Nomes'. My folks would never have let me learn a craft either, that was way beneath their dignity.

  Anyway, living with the Nomes family I learned to play and I was especially close with their son Marcus, who is a few years younger than me, and with their eldest daughter Ilsa, who is the same age.

  George, Sir Nomes, always hoped we'd make a match someday, but no matter how close we were, I never developed other feelings for her than brotherly love. George was disappointed, he wished me to make a marriage of convenience with her, as he had done with Frances, but I refused.

  Ilsa herself did love me, and was so disappointed that she never spoke to me again, and apparently she never even tried to love someone else.

  It is the reason why I seldom visit, it is awkward to sit at one table with someone I've hurt dreadfully through no fault of my own, not being able to explain or beg forgiveness. She doesn't acknowledge my presence.'

  At the moment Paul related this, I saw Lukas' expression, now sure that humanity was totally crazy. Paul didn't notice, he continued: 'but I digress, you wanted to know where I learned my craft. When I was living with the Nomes', none of them practised magic exclusively.

  Sir Nomes is in trade, you've seen Frances' talent with anything floral, they nourished my love of metals and ornamentation, and got me an apprenticeship with a really reputable craftsman. I went there every day to work and learn about metals, and rode back every night to study and practice

  magic.

  I had little time to be sad about my quarrel with Ilsa, and I usually had dinner with my master. I progressed fast, but I had to work hard for it.'

  Here, Lukas, retorted: 'My parents, actually my father, would have been very pleased if I had your talent for magic. It was a great let-down for him I didn't have any, and he forced me to become a diplomat, probably to get some u
se out of me despite being a failure.

  I did inherit his speed, a trait he was also renowned for. But I'm glad you think I'm progressing well, I like working with you, especially on projects like these. I miss looking like everyone else, not being able to show my hoofs and my horns openly, but I don't miss my job or my father and siblings at all.

  I like working with my hands a lot better, and you two love me for who I am, not my pedigree.

  What did your father think of your career choice, Melissa?' I replied: 'He would have preferred if I had just married and gotten some grandchildren for him to spoil, but my parents supported me in my study as much as they could.

  My dad's really proud of me now, though he still wants me to marry and have a bunch of grandchildren.' This piqued Paul's interest: 'Do you suppose parents from a lower class have more normal expectations of their children, or is it just coincidence?'

  My reply was twofold: 'I think I was just lucky. But though I think George is a great dad, letting Bertha take as much responsibility as she can handle, ignoring Marcus' teenage rudeness, still I think he and Frances made a capital mistake in letting their eldest child put you and herself through years of pain over a disappointed love.

  They should have encouraged her to get over it, maybe sent her to be fostered a few years, to allow her to find other interests. Instead they made you responsible for her happiness, maybe hoping you'd relent and marry her anyway, but instead freezing her life and driving you away, afraid to love anyone else.'

  When would I ever learn to keep my big mouth shut and think for a moment?

  I loved Paul so much it hurt me to think of it, but now I'd done it again, I had spoken my mind before considering if what I said might give him pain.

  The words hadn't left my mouth yet before I wished I could take them back.

  But this time, Paul didn't seem pained by them, judging his countenance I'd say he mostly felt relieved to hear my opinion. He didn't say anything, but