by J M Thomas
Aeron’s fist clenched and came up fast. Real fast.
“Stand down, Lyons.” Don’s words were clipped, broaching no nonsense. “Now, let’s go find somewhere we can pop a squat, off-trail, and you can keep making a hash of bringing Celeste here up to speed.”
“I…” Aeron began.
“Don’t even try it; I heard what you were saying. And what you weren’t saying, both of you.” Don turned and took the lead, picking up his scope and holding it at arm’s length like it was a dead skunk as he shouldered his gear. “Shit, I hate this damned thing.”
Aeron’s arm tightened around me again, and we marched, albeit clumsily. I couldn’t quite feel my feet, and my head spun as it tried to make sense of what was going on around me. Two men led me through a forest. The birds sang. One was a... an assassin.
And the other one hired the assassin. In front of me. To my face. I’m pretty sure that was illegal. Does this mean I’m as good as dead?
“Technically, no.” Don turned to glance over his shoulder at me as he marched at the lead of our little procession. “It doesn’t become illegal until he solicits me to kill someone. Having me on retainer to beef up security on behalf of the Ministry of Necromancy’s sanctioned mission on US soil is perfectly legal. It doesn’t even break guild rules.”
There was silence for a second, then Don continued, eyes back on the trail, “Oh, so you’re not in the guild. That’s interesting. Seems you’ll be squaring with me, too, Lyons. And I mean I’ll need to know everything.” He fell silent again, then sighed. “Shit. Yeah, even that.”
It was so odd, listening to half of a conversation, knowing that somehow Don was hearing mine and Aeron’s thoughts as if he was inside our heads. I shuddered a little at the invasion. I have to keep my thoughts in one place, or think of something ridiculous, like flying purple elephants blowing bubbles...
Right then, Don held up a fist at a right angle to signal us to stop. “Wait here,” he said before pulling his pistol from its holster and making a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree check of the area. I spotted a little cabin up a steep embankment. Don approached from the back, examined the premises, then disappeared inside.
“Clear!” he called, waving a hand for us to join him.
Aeron followed Don into the little cabin, his stiff strut behind Don’s easy march. I curled up on the creaking porch swing, burrowing into the unbending leather of Aeron’s jacket and clutching my head between my hands. As if that could block my thoughts from escaping. As if that could make me not be here, in this situation...
Their voices were a murmur inside, a steady stream of quiet conversation. The thump of footfalls, the rush of water in a sink, the clatter of pans, all of it was a thread I was holding onto to stop the images and slow that awful pounding in my temples.
The first one to come outside again was Aeron. He grabbed an armful of wood from a little bin outside the cabin, then nodded toward me on his way back in. I sighed in relief that he didn’t make me go in there with them. The weight of that choice felt too heavy to bear.
Don poked his head out next, tucking the door frame into his shoulder as if it was a rifle butt. “We’re heating some water on the cookstove. You want cocoa or tea?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” I said, keeping my tone even and cool. I was downright proud of how steady it sounded on the outside. I probably deserved an Oscar for my performance.
“Cocoa it is.” He winked. His head disappeared, then reappeared again, this time without his wide grin. “Hey, I’m sorry. About what happened to your friend. For the record, you’re right to be cautious. I know it doesn’t mean much, with who Lyons and I are and our association, but I’ve heard his thoughts, too. Your lion is a lamb. He only wants to protect you, even if he fucking sucks at it.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and my lips together. I nodded, tears bursting out from where I’d been desperately trying to hold them back. He was right that his assurance shouldn’t have meant so much to me, but somehow it did. “I’m sorry,” I sobbed, burying my face in my hands.
Don stood as stalwart as a boulder. “Look, I’m not going to force you to come inside. But I do want you to do it, and don’t wait until you’re ready. Part of keeping you safe is going to mean you get to face your fears. We’ll turn those liabilities into assets in no time.” Don’s head disappeared again, then he called out to Aeron as if the scarred fighter was a short-order cook.
When I was alone again, the tears flooded with the memories. Of the boy I loved in high school, gored and bled out by a bull. Of my best friend, dragged into the woods, kept for a month, then escaped, only to slit her wrists in the bathtub because how could she live a normal life again?
What if it really was me all along? What if I’m the bringer of some doom, a promise of agony to those unfortunate enough to get close to me? Had I saved some poor soul a terrible death by being so alone these past few months? Do I need to be alone forever so people don’t die?
From within the cabin, a loud stream of American-variety swearing cut through the birdsong and cricket chirps. Heavy footsteps, the British variety, I realized as a hiccup cut through my tears, headed toward me. I wiped my face clean just as Aeron rounded the corner, two steaming mugs in his hands.
Put on your big girl panties and suck it up, Celeste. I took a deep, calming breath, then managed a little smile.
“Apparently, I’ve been banished.” Aeron pressed one of the cups into my almost-not-shaking hands. “‘Ere’s some piping-hot, nasty, powdered shit.”
“Mmm, hot water with expired cocoa globs. How did I ever get so lucky?” I huffed a grateful laugh, curling my feet closer to me to make room for Aeron to sit on the swing. I hoped he wouldn’t ask for his jacket back yet—it was so warm and thick, like armor over my vulnerability.
He eased his way down so as not to spill, then took a tentative sip from his mug. “Hmph. ‘Bout like you’d expect. Granular.”
I took my own sip, forcing my nerves down. “You know what’d make this better? Whiskey. A good splash of your whiskey.”
“‘Ey, now! Don’t go ruinin’ good scotch wiv this shit. You want a toddy, you gotta do it proper.” His quick flash of a smile seemed a little easier as he made a face around another sip of the cocoa. “But, come on, Lessie. You was really worried I’d wish you ill? ‘At I’d bring ‘arm to ya? After all the bandying about town, you staying the night at my place, and nuffink?” He raised his eyebrows at me, voice quiet. “What’d I do, hmm?”
“You didn’t do anything, Aeron. Well, until you knocked me to the ground.”
“Yeah, that I did. But Don said a fing about before that, he ‘eard you already worryin’. I fought we was ‘avin’ a good conversation.”
“Don needs to get out of my head and stay there,” I griped, holding the hot mug until my hands felt like they’d sear. “I had a best friend growing up. Hailey. She met a guy, he took her on a couple dates, she really thought they had a connection.”
A tear leaked out, and I brushed it away before it could invite friends over to take a walk down the side of my face. “Then, he took her for a camping weekend and… well, that’s the last I ever saw her. I saw what was left of her when she came back, just…”
I shook my head to clear the memories, but it didn’t work. “That’s all anyone ever said after, how stupid and naive I was, and how I’d end up just like Hailey, dragged into the woods by some guy I’d just met. And here we are, we’ve just met, and here’s woods, and...” The lump rose again, cutting off my words for a moment. “And we’re at the doorway of a cabin, and I’m not sure I have a choice.”
“‘At’s bare shit, that is.” He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as his look darkened and his tone lowered. “‘Ey catch the bugger?”
I got the feeling he was planning to go tear the guy limb from limb himself if the law hadn’t done its duty. “Yeah. He’s in prison.” I shivered, braving a shrug. “Lot of good it did her, though.”
“Right. I
‘ope ‘e gets a shiv in ‘is kidney.” Aeron watched the treeline for a moment. “It’s not your fault, Lessie. Bad fings ‘appen cause the world is rotten. People is rotten. Just cause you seen it don’t mean you did it, orright?” He paused to take another sip. “Remember ‘at, no matter what ‘appens between us.”
A shudder ran through me. “Even if I am the bird on the barbed wire?”
“Especially then. In the prophecy, ‘at little bird is the only ‘ope anyone ‘as for gettin’ out of this mess. Nobody reads the prophecy an’ blames the bird. ‘Ey may want to silence it, but only so’s ‘ey can bury their ‘eads in the sand. When I learnt it in school, my professor, ‘e says ‘That pretty song calls attention to the fact everyone else is in a prison.’” Aeron gave his head a sad shake. “Why else would we be surrounded by razor wire?”
His words sent ice down my spine. “So what does happen next, Aeron? You have an idea, and it isn’t good, or you wouldn’t be talking to an assassin and having us take different routes to places.” I took a large gulp of the liquid, mostly to get the experience over with before it could get cold and somehow taste even worse. “And I wouldn’t be wearing your armored motorcycle jacket.”
“It’s already started.” He sighed, more still than ever, though the swing swayed us gently.
I noticed Aeron hadn’t contradicted my guess about his jacket being bulletproof, but said nothing about it as I forced another sip of cocoa down my throat instead.
He continued over the creak of the swing, “I work for the Ministry of Magic in London, dealing wiv all kinds of issues around the world involving the Department of Necromancy.” At this, Aeron let out a laugh. “Which your ol’ chum ‘Ugo Fleming calls a missed opportunity to name it ‘The Departed Department.’”
“He would.” I laughed, eyeing him. “So you’re like… James Bond, but for necros?”
“At’s right. A proper James Bond, ‘at’s me.” Aeron’s laugh came out in a good-natured wheeze. “Nah, love. The truf is far more boring. I barged in ‘ere like a bastard free years ago, all ‘orright, let’s whip this place into shape to prepare for the prophecy,’ and everybody looks at me like, ‘right then. Who are you?’” He laughed again at the memory. “Ol ‘Ugo, ‘e’s the only one who’d even ‘eard of it. When I said no one believed me, I meant no one. Alena… well, ‘at’s anovver story.”
“You fell for her, didn’t you?” I teased, prodding his leg with my toe.
Aeron looked sheepish. “Yeah, orright. I mean, you can see why, eh?”
“I mean… if you go for put-together women of power and perfection, sure.” One corner of my mouth twitched upward, and I hid the impish smirk behind the lip of my cup.
“She weren’t like ‘at then. This was before she let the power go to ‘er ‘ead. Boundless energy, passion for making the world better. That’s what I liked about ‘er.” He gave me a funny look. “Come to think of it, that’s what I like about you, Lessie.”
I couldn’t help the smile spreading over my face as I met his sideways glance. “Why, thank you, Aeron.”
He cleared his throat and looked away. “Anyway, as I was sayin’, I barge in ‘ere like a nob, find there’s no proper guild in this city, nor formal alliance of any kind. Me and Alena worked night and day to build it up from scratch.”
The memory seemed to sadden him. “I got in a bit of a scrap, woke up in hospital, only to find the guild is made, and ‘ey’ve gone and built the thing around fuckin’ anti-maleficium whilst I ‘ad my feet up.”
“The do-no-harm clause.” I nodded at the memory, wiggling to rock the porch swing.
“Yeah, they ‘eld this vote that you could only be in the guild if your magic did no ‘arm to anybody.” Aeron shrugged helplessly. “I trained six years in battle magic, Lessie. If I use my skills, people get ‘urt. It’s like making a fighter’s guild and only allowing ones what don’t punch wiv fists.”
“So, is Don in the guild?” I asked, curiosity causing me to lower my cooling mug to my lap. Oh yeah, Don exists. I’d forgotten all about him. The cabin behind us had gone strangely quiet, and I didn’t exactly remember when. For being such a loudmouth, he can make his presence very much unknown on a whim. I shuddered again. Probably makes him good at his job… the killing people job.
“Nah, ‘e don’t want no part in it. Bad for security or summin'. ‘E’s strictly freelance. I’m just glad we got ‘im first.” Aeron’s faraway look seemed genuinely relieved, his hand waving as if he was striking up an imaginary band. “I’d ‘ate to be lookin’ over my shoulder for that bloke, but big ups to ‘im for bein’ good at what ‘e does.”
A memory resurfaced at the rhythm of his gesture, the left, right, back motion his hand made, dots connecting in my mind. “Speaking of things we’re good at, and things you’re not telling me...”
Aeron winced a little. “Uh-oh. I’ve gone and given myself away, ‘aven’t I? Now ‘ow’d I do that, and what wiv?”
I grinned. “You dance, don’t you?”
“Nah, Lessie.” Aeron’s grin seemed to crack him open, warmth shining through. “I don’t do that devil’s work.” He shook his finger at me and winked. “And neivver should you.”
I mirrored his gesture, adding a flourish of my own. “You don’t dance like you don’t do necromancy.”
He swatted at the air like he was batting my hands away. “Guilty.”
“Hey, you two!” Don called from inside as if we’d summoned him from the deep. “I got you something.”
Aeron rose off the creaking swing, then held out his hand for me.
I looked at it for a second, then took it, his added lift giving me momentum to swing my legs over the seat and rise gingerly to my feet.
“I’m getting old, Aeron.” I grinned around my grimace. “These bones are getting creaky.”
Aeron touched the end of my nose with his index finger with a wink, giving my hand a squeeze before releasing it. “We’ll get you some little round glasses to perch on the tip o’ that nose, then. And a cane.”
I tried not to read too much into the gesture, but it wasn’t going to plan. “Like one of those carved ones in Hugo’s shop.” I straightened, popping my back into place with a stretch.
“Oh no, Lessie! Somebody might get the wrong idea and shoot a fireball out the end of one of those.” Aeron laughed, then took the lead as he headed toward the door. Then he stopped, turning his head to look at me over his shoulder. “If you want to go ‘ome, now’s as good a time as any. I won’t stop you.” Then he stepped over the threshold.
Which way do I go? I eyed the room’s interior, then the woods. Dangit, come hell or high water, stupid choice or no, there’s still so much I really do want to know. Steeling myself with a deep breath, I marched through the door.
Chapter 15 – Converge
“Gather round, ladies and Lyons.” With a grin, Don gestured at some camping chairs set up around a folding card table. “Working through logistics here, and you guys both get a seat at the square roundtable.”
I took my spot with a raised eyebrow, a bit surprised that I was getting a say in this at all.
Collecting our empty mugs, Don tramped across the creaky floor and set the cups in the shallow sink with a rough clank. While he was back to not caring how much noise he made, he easily made up for all the time when he was quiet.
Aeron took the seat to my right, snatching papers off the table and shuffling through them before his butt even reached the chair.
“To facilitate me not losing my goddamn mind, I’ve put the scope over there while we converge.” Don gestured toward the farthest corner of the cabin where he’d piled his gear. “The effect seems to be waning, so you two aren’t screaming in my brain. Thanks for that, Celeste.”
“Sorry?” I held my palms out in a “what can you do” shrug.
Don waved me off. “It’s better than what bounces around in my head, so don’t worry about it. And there’s nothing you can do to stop thinking; folks try all the time. I
only hear the thoughts when I’ve got it up to my face, normally.” He pantomimed looking downrange through the scope. “Your little scratch gave me my own personal rock concert there for a while.”
The mental image struck me as funny, and I allowed a little smirk to creep up one side of my face. “Next time, I’ll start thinking up the whole Nutcracker Ballet.”
“‘At’ll do ‘is nut in, alright.” Aeron slid his seat closer to me with a chuckle, then glanced at the paperwork. “What’cha got ‘ere, mate?”
“First off, look over this list of known associations and fill in any I might have left out, as well as any contact information you might have, details, assets, that sort of thing.” Don slid papers to each of us, a hint of pride lighting up his face.
“Wow.” My eyes widened at the list. “I don’t even know some of these names.”
Don glanced at it over my shoulder. “Yeah, but you’ve associated with all of them in the past forty-eight hours. Not sure why you haven’t already briefed her on basic precautions, Lyons. This is some sloppy safety work, if I may be so bold.”
“Only ‘cause I’m payin’ you for it.” Aeron screwed his face into a frown. “Tryin’, mate. Problem wiv our Lessie ‘ere is that she’s got no natural sense for what is or ain’t dangerous, at least in a city environment. We ain’t in Kansas anymore, and this ain’t ‘er ‘ome turf.”
This struck me as a bit too true for comfort. I swallowed hard, unsure of whether to push back or not. “If you say so.” Nervousness rising again, I flipped the page in front of me over to the back. There were even more names, including my whole family, right there in black and white. My hackles went up as I lowered the paper. “Were you stalking us?”
Don laughed as if my question was genuinely funny, still standing over the table like a vulture. “Oh no, this is just the workup for potential clients and targets. Stalking is much more involved, if executed correctly.”
Don pulled out another stack of papers, sending me a little wink I did not feel inclined to return. “Next up is locations frequented. I’ll need you to list your top ten favorite places to eat, visit, where you’d go if you were scared, that kind of thing.”
