by J M Thomas
She got a faraway look in her eyes. “Loving someone takes so much time and effort. I do so much for other people. It would be nice for someone to take care of me for a change. But I never complain,” she repeated. “The work I do here is too important.”
Suddenly, I became aware of a weighty sadness or maybe even anger as Marla turned her face away and closed off. Perhaps that’s what Aeron had expected me to see in this room when we entered. Now that I saw it, the whole place felt heavy and sad.
I decided to switch tactics, to go with the flow of the mood. “How do you care for the little ones after… they… you know?”
Marla brightened considerably at the question. “It’s really much easier than caring for them when they’re alive. We do our best to help them get better, but if their lives escape them, I bring them in here.”
“Here?” I looked around the gloomy room, half-expecting remains or urns or something.
“Yes. I have a nice lamp stored in the cabinet on the back wall, so it’s not that horrible flickering light.” Her face contorted with disgust at the fluorescent fixture overhead. “I play my flute, then light a candle for each of the new little ones, give them the names their parents had for them, and write their life stories in their own little baby books.”
I found my eyes misting over. That was the sweetest thing I’d ever heard.
Marla continued, “Folks almost found out about this, once, when I nodded off before blowing out the candles. Thankfully, I managed to extinguish the fire before it could set off the smoke alarm. I doubt the hospital would take kindly to necromancy, even if they understood.” Her tired eyes flashed with concern. “So please be careful who you mention your information to.”
“Don’t worry about me! I’m just using the data to build features. No names or jobs will be attached to the reports or anything.” I glanced around again. “How long do you care for each soul?” I no longer cared that my curiosity was getting away with me. I wished I’d asked Sian some of these questions, and I wasn’t going to waste this chance if I could help it. In fact, I’d probably circle back around to as many of these as would let me… maybe not Ethan.
“As long as they’ll stay. It’s always bittersweet when they’re ready to leave our little home. I miss every tiny one, I know they have to grow up, but I don’t like seeing them go. I guess all us parents feel that way.” She seemed to notice the tear I whisked away from my eye. “It’s alright, honey. The moms upstairs feel this way about the babies they’ve loved and cared for, too, even if no one else sees.”
She shook her head. “But when that first little one didn’t make it, I couldn’t not help. When I heard that lonely cry above me, I just knew I had to do everything in my power.”
“Everything,” I choked out as I nodded in full agreement.
Aeron cut in, his husky voice reminding me with a start that he’d been in the room this whole time. “Some necros use the power of the dead to care for the livin’. Marla ‘ere uses the power of the livin’ to care for the dead.”
“Bringing them down here does help the living as well.” Marla brushed a tear from her eyes. “The little ones sometimes haunt their mothers in confusion, adding even more pain to their grief. I can give the little ones the kind of care their mothers would want… and give the mothers the care the babies would want.”
An idea seemed to strike Marla in that moment. “You know what, I do have a boon I’d like to ask, Lyons.” Marla suddenly looked every bit the stern nurse handling an unruly patient. Her posture straightened, her head cocked, and she met his gaze full on. Her sudden boldness surprised me, but apparently not him.
I wondered what other dealings this woman had with Aeron, and how he came to know her in the first place. I made a note to ask him how someone who wasn’t a necromancer was so closely associated with so many of them… again. The last time, he hadn’t given me a straight answer.
“I don’t do boons, but you can ask.” Aeron stepped over to the broken gurney, waiting patiently.
Marla rifled through a drawer next to the sink, finally pulling out a sheet of triplicate paper she’d clearly taken from a prescription pad. “The non-incidentals. My souls felt what happened to their mamas. It’s rare, but sometimes we lose one, sometimes both.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Sometimes the fear is so thick you can smell it in the room.” She thrust the paper in Aeron’s direction. “Handle it for me?”
His voice was so low I could barely register his words. “‘At’s a line we don’t cross.” Aeron shook his head as he bent to whisper something in her ear. When I looked again, the paper in her hand was gone.
“Then we’re done here,” she barked. Her voice rose in volume and intensity. “You’re as bad as them. It’s time for you to leave.”
I wasn’t sure exactly what I’d just witnessed, or who “they” were, but a chill ran down my spine nonetheless. At first I thought this woman was all kindness and sweet things. But now I began to wonder if all this care might have pushed her over the edge. She had to be feeling too deeply the heaviness of everyone she’d ever cared for and lost—there was a bitterness behind her eyes turning her grief rancid.
Aeron didn’t thank her or say goodbye as he headed out. I did both before closing the door softly behind me.
He halted our two-person procession twenty feet from the door. “I need to be clear on what did and did not happen in ‘ere. You got your interview about love and shit, alright? Nofing else. If so much as a word gets out…”
“I won’t say anything, I promise!” I flashed an offended glare in his direction. “What, and compromise her doing so much kindness and so much…”
“Nah, mate. That bit with the babies, it won’t go on. You see it, right? The weight of a ‘undred souls on one. It’s doin’ ‘er ‘ead in.” He tapped his temple. “She’ll go inverse if she keeps it up.” Aeron marched down the hall again, leaving me to puzzle out what he meant.
“‘At’s why we’re making an unplanned stop next,” he called over his shoulder as I trotted to catch up. “I ‘ate to interrupt your little project wiv one of my own, but this mess wants cleanin’.” As I came up next to him, his voice lowered to almost a whisper again. “Nah, I mean the business about the paper, and her livin’ down ‘ere. Forget it ‘appened.”
It took me a moment or two to work out what he meant. “Wait, she was living down there?” I paused in my tracks until Aeron had gotten fifteen feet ahead of me down the hall and turned a corner. I had to dash to catch up again. “She was…”
Aeron clenched his jaw. “I said drop it.”
With a little huff of protest, I clamped my mouth shut and matched his pace.
To my vast chagrin, the weather had taken a turn for the much worse while we were beneath the shelter of millions of pounds of structural steel and poured concrete. Dark clouds billowed, and heavy droplets of rain thumped against the ground. I eyed Aeron’s motorcycle and face-obscuring helmet, then the severe thunderstorm alert popping up on my phone.
My own little city car, while not much better, at least had coverage on all sides. “Want me to take you where you’re going? I’m sure this’ll blow over soon.”
He evaluated the clouds for himself, frowning at the sky like it’d personally affronted him. “Best leave it to the ducks, yeah?”
I cleaned out the passenger side, tossing my makeup bag and toiletries in the back next to my pillow and blankets. I had to search for how to slide the seat back to fit his much longer legs—nobody had sat in that seat for as long as I’d rented this car.
“There you go.” I swung the door wide to admit him as I made my way around to the other side of the car. As I climbed in, I wondered if I should be letting this utter stranger into my car with me. He could overpower me with ease. He’d clearly eyed the back seat, evaluating what he saw there in silence. Whether his look was ill-intended or not remained to be seen.
I knew nothing about him but his name and what his scars and tattoos spelled—familiarity wi
th pain. Oh, and a stunning familiarity with practitioners of death magic. I probably should’ve thought of that before he squeezed into the passenger seat of my tiny car. Taking one last moment to settle into my choice, I found that, for better or for worse, I did trust that he meant me no harm.
But what did I know?
As soon as I shut my car door, he showed me where he’d pulled up directions on his phone. “‘Ere.”
I scanned the directions for a moment. “That’s not far. I looked at one of these apartments to see if I could rent it once my full-time check comes in. They’re pretty nice.”
He nodded but didn’t add anything.
I maneuvered carefully through the driving rain to Condo 306. These had been far out of my price range, even once I upped my income. Whoever we were meeting had a nice spot—a condominium that was basically a house in the middle of the city. There were some studio units in this neighborhood that rented for two grand a month. After living on an internship wage plus the five thousand I’d borrowed, that kind of opulence sounded insane.
“Where’ve you been stayin’, then?” Aeron asked, out of the blue enough that it took me off-guard.
After a second of waffling, I decided to be honest with him. “There’s a campground about forty minutes outside the city. They have a hot shower, a coin laundry, and I can hook up my little hot plate to cook on. They don’t have wifi, but there’s a charge station for the car in the parking lot that’s run on solar power. Other than that, I get the rest of what I need at the dollar store on Dearmon Road.”
He stared at me wide-eyed. “For ‘ow long?”
“Since the internship started in May. It’s the only way I could think of to keep costs down. Makes things simple, I suppose.” I shrugged.
“Simple enough, sure, but what about days like this?” His gesture encompassed the wall of water being dumped on us.
I kept my gaze on the road, navigating the slick puddles springing up. “So far, it’s only been little popup showers, but if there’s hail in the forecast, I’ll just take a spot in the parking garage and curl up in the back seat, thus the pillow and blankets. It’s pretty cozy.”
His seat creaked as he adjusted position. “Very resourceful of you.”
I smiled, turning my blinker on and sliding into the right lane to make a turn. “Thanks. I thought it was pretty ingenious myself. I want to live in the green, making my way without owing anyone, if I can.” I thought for a moment. “It’s driving me nuts that I set my coffee date with Darrel so late in the week. Now I’m in debt to him until Friday lunch.”
“Darrel? My Darrel?” Aeron gave a little wheeze of a laugh. “Didn’t strike me as your type.”
I checked my next turn on the phone. Almost there. “Between you and me, he isn’t. He kinda made it an after-the-fact condition of helping me find necromancers to talk to.”
“Ahh, that’s more like it, innit?” Aeron tapped the red patch in his short goatee with his index finger. “If you can ‘elp it, don’t commit to nuffink wiv ‘im. ‘E’ll try to make you feel like you’re puttin’ him out, but ‘e won’t do nuffin’ if you tell ‘im ‘no.’” He paused for a beat, his voice lowering. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“Thanks.” I laughed. “Does this mean I’m gonna owe you one now?” I gave him half-grin, but kinda hoped he wouldn't say "yup."
“Nah, love. Makes us even for the ride.”
I had the sudden feeling that, if I turned my head just a little, I’d catch Aeron smiling. I found I wasn’t ready to see that just yet.
I pulled into a free parking space, the rain pounding its ceaseless drumroll above us. The world was full of such incredible destructive power, and I suddenly felt like I knew so little of it. With a steeling breath, I braced for the storm.
Chapter 7 – That Puddled Blood
“This ain’t one of your interviews, so don’t you bring out that pad, missy Lessie.” Aeron rapped on the dark-stained oak door with his knuckles.
I slid the pad back into my cross-shoulder bag and locked the latch, curious as to why this necro was off-limits to me. I also wondered what a necro was doing in such a nice place. Maybe I’d finally be meeting one of the grand magical people, the ones above the normal folks with normal jobs. What had Sian called them? I didn’t dare pull out my notes to check, since I’d just been warned.
A black woman with a sharply-angled bob hairstyle answered the door. She threw her large, strong arms wide when she saw who’d come to call.
Aeron gave the sweetest, most polite smile in response to her warm welcome. He’d magically transformed into someone too gentle to dream of throwing a man out a window, while still being wholly physically prepared to do so. “Missus Ward, is Lana at ‘ome?”
“She’s in her room.” Mrs. Ward waved us inside. “It’s good to see you, child! Work keeping you busy?”
“As busy as ever, mum.” He stepped through the doorway with a deferential bow of his head and accepted her enthusiastic hug. “This is Miss Celeste, an acquaintance of mine. I’m taking ‘er around to meet some friends about a dating service she’s puttin’ togevver. I was in the neighbor’ood and fought I might pop round to check up on ‘ow Lana was doin’. I’m sorry, there weren’t time to bring anyfink, but if you need summin’…”
“Of course not, dear. We have everything we need and more.” She enthusiastically dragged Aeron into the expansive foyer and clasped my hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Celeste. You have a lovely name.” Her broad smile crinkled her cheeks.
She strode past an open, clean living room into the most impressive kitchen I’d ever seen in a condo. It wasn’t just spacious and modern, but also super cozy and comfortable, with a tiled island and shining pots and pans hanging from ironwork hooks. “Have a seat at the table, dear. I’ll get the water goin’ for some coffee, then Aeron can take you to meet Lana.”
This table. The corner bench with matching chairs. That coordinating painting on the wall, that vaulted ceiling! I melted as I sat down. I can’t wait until I can afford to live in a place like this. Designing a website is great and all... But designing your own home? I was a human puddle.
As soon as I sat down, Mrs. Ward took Aeron off to the side and said something to him in a hushed tone. Though I couldn’t make out exactly what they exchanged between them, it struck me that Mrs. Ward was making a difficult request of him, much like Marla had. The confidence he inspired in these people, despite my initial impression of him, fascinated me.
They walked back into the kitchen, Aeron patting her arm reassuringly. He snatched a carton of ice cream from the freezer and dipped out three small bowls of it. Clearly, he knew where the bowls and spoons lived, and as Mrs. Ward made me a cup of coffee, he whistled comfortably. She seemed just as relaxed in his presence as he was in hers. This home and its inhabitants exuded comfort and belonging. I wanted to stay forever.
“Much obliged, Missus Ward,” Aeron said, saluting her with the ice cream.
“The pleasure’s mine, son. You and yours are welcome here any time!”
Aeron flicked his chin in the direction of a hallway that led to a sweeping staircase, balancing all three bowls in his hands.
I grabbed my cup of coffee and followed him. I loved how Mrs. Ward had decorated her home. Everything was unpretentious, comfortable, and elegant without being overpowering. How people decorated their living spaces said a lot about who they were, and this place put me at ease as much as meeting Mrs. Ward had.
Reaching the closed bedroom door, Aeron rapped playfully on it, tapping out a little ragtime beat.
“Oh, crap,” came a hoarse female voice from the other side. “A. E., is that you?”
“Master Lyons of London and Lady Grantham of… somewhere to see you, miss,” he replied with a smirk. “Might we impose upon your ladyship?”
“Uh… gimme a minute.” No rustling or movement noises made it to me through the door. If she was hiding things, getting dressed, or anything like that, I wasn’t sure what it could
be. After a minute or two of Aeron pointedly staring at the ice cream, we finally got our “Come in.”
I turned the knob, but let Aeron go in first. It was pretty dark inside, only a computer’s screen to light up the room, but Aeron whacked the switch on the wall with his elbow, flooding the room with soft light from a line of recessed fixtures. The ambience it created was downright lovely.
To my surprise, the glow from the lights revealed that we’d entered a stuffed animal menagerie. There was no traditional furniture in the room, only twin-sized mattresses arranged like couches, a couple creatures that were also bean bags, and a sea of fluffy stuffed animals across the floor and up the shelves. An older teen, likely sixteen or so, puddled in the middle, wearing a black hoodie and leggings, nestled in the epicenter of the fluff, browsing on her laptop with a headset over a thick, combed afro.
The girl squinted, bringing her hand up over her face at the light’s intrusion. “You’re really here!”
She struggled to her feet when Aeron came through, his boisterous, “‘Ey! Give us a cuddle, darlin’!” booming despite the walls of fluffy animals muffling the sound.
Slowly, she untangled herself from her blankets, throwing her arms around his neck with a frail hug that seemed to wish it could give more, but couldn’t.
I nearly gasped when she did. This teen was worse than gangly. She was gaunt, thin to the point of looking like she might break. Oh no, something’s wrong. Something’s really wrong.
Aeron pulled away, still balancing the bowls in his hands. “We was in the neighborhood, fought we might stop in. Lana, Celeste, you catch my drift.” He handed me a bowl of ice cream, then shoved one into Lana’s hands in a manner that broached no opportunity for refusal. “See anyfink interestin’ on the undermarket lately, majesty?”
“Nah.” She gave a dismissive shrug, slowly sinking back into her couch bed nest.
Aeron fixed her with a meaningful glare, then nudged a bear-shaped bean bag chair over directly across from her with the toe of his boot, then lowered himself into it. “And why’s ‘at?”
