Through Fire

by Parker Jaysen

  We take all his inner works that we can access, and we keep some of his exoskeleton to use as armor repair for Daisy. If we run into more of that spittle, we might as well have extra. And we clamp down the outer shutters on half of the viewports. It will restrict our sightlines, but maybe gain us some time against acidic crud.

  Maura was right, though. My dampening slows the mold growth, at least a little. Not as effectively as it cools thermal effects, but if it extends the carriage’s structural integrity I’ll take it.

  It’s going to be close, getting to station when we’re supposed to, but I think we’re on target.

  “What?” says Vick, and I realize I’m staring at her.

  Since our mistake, we haven’t made love at all. We haven’t shared a bunk.

  It’s for the best.

  If we’re about to get to the rendezvous, we’ll get assigned to new quarters at the lake, and we won’t see each other for years again.

  “What?” she says again.

  I have so much to say to this woman. I can’t bear the idea of her just packing her things and walking out again. I want her.

  I adore her.

  She shakes her head and looks furious. “You’ll never do it,” she mutters.

  Maura, fucking Maura, breaks in again, before I can ask Vick what the hell she’s talking about.

  “There are two big dragons and then home free,” she reports, and then wants to chit-chat about demon spit and mold research.

  I just want her to shut up so I can – what? Finish what I’ve started here, with Vick? I haven’t started anything.

  This is not a mystery. I’m a dampener. I know this. I keep my feelings pushed down, squashed down – I know this. I have since the day Vick walked out.

  That’s a kind of cooling.

  “Hey, Maura,” Vick says, “hang on, we’re in the middle of something here.” She’s looking at me with something like understanding. “Can we give a sitrep later? Or is there something more urgent?”

  Her eyes don’t leave mine.

  “No problem,” Maura staticks back.

  “Okay.” Vick takes my mike and thumbs it off.

  “We’ll be stranded,” I protest.

  “No, no. We’re together.”

  We haven’t been together in years.

  “What do you want?” she says to me.

  I stare at her. I’m frozen, truly dampened.

  “You know, you’re really very frustrating,” she says, in a mostly conversational tone. “We’ve been in a fucking sealed chamber for weeks. Weeks!”

  It’s not just that I’ve pushed my feelings down and away. It’s that what remains is mostly terror. I’m going to suffocate her. She’s going to think I’m pushy, or clingy, or possessive.

  So I have no idea what to say that won’t make all of that come gushing out.

  And if I say nothing, she’ll just leave again.

  “Okay, then I’ll talk,” she says.

  She is standing, her slight shoulders squared like she’s ready to fight a dragon, except she’s facing me.

  “I requested this mission,” she says.

  Okay, I blink at that. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  I feel like I’m not processing anything correctly, it’s been a tough ride, and I just want to reach out for her – but I’m not sure that’s the right idea.

  “You’re supposed to say something,” Vick says. “Like you couldn’t have imagined that, or you think I’m lying, or maybe even what I want you to say, which is ‘Vick, why?’”

  “Vick, why?” I whisper.

  “You’re crying,” she says, in almost the same tone she used to tell me that my neck wasn’t covered the first day.

  I’m not crying. I don’t cry.

  “When I imagined this conversation, I thought I’d know which why you meant,” she says. “Why did I request you as my partner?”

  Why did you leave me? The words freeze in my throat, but Vick reads me true.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know why I left. I was stupid. I was mad about something, and you watched me pack and you never said stop, so I didn’t.”

  The carriage is struck by something. Our weakened metallic shell groans.

  “Fuck,” Vick says. “All right, let’s take care of this, but when we’re done, we are finishing this conversation. Once and for all.”

  Which sounds like finality, but I have no time to get weirded out anymore, because we are really beset.

  There are dozens of the spit demons, and we can’t let Vick rest between blocks, because the spit is horrible and will kill us by ripping open the carriage itself.

  “If you have anyone to send, do it,” I yell to Maura.

  She answers, but in the shrieking, I don’t hear the answer. I dampen everything, until I’m shaking from the effort. And it can’t be the answer to these demons, not really. They aren’t hot.

  But it’s all I know how to do!

  They are galloping around, circling us in clusters of eight or ten. When they’re in view they’re herds of malevolent children’s toys. It’s even more unnerving when they’re out of view, waiting for the next thump or shriek.

  An invisible wave hits one cluster and they go flying, hard, vanishing into some chasm that’s just out of sight. Vick. She’s so fucking strong, even when she’s tired.

  Her magic works by pushing away with great force.

  Mine by dampening everything in the vicinity.

  No wonder we didn’t work.

  Two dragons circle high above our carriage. Either of them could scoop us up, carriage and all. I brace to dampen their fire.

  A crackle splits the air like a cracked whip before the carriage is rocked with a thunderbolt – so they are Sahras. Bigger Sahras than I’ve ever seen, and their electricity is just one more thing I’m not very effective against.

  We’re not going to survive this, I realize, and I’m completely calm.

  Which lets me think.

  “What if we use them against each other?” I say. Vick is soothing her forehead on the cool glass of one of the shuttered viewports. She’s exhausted already. Even with a good plan, we’re not going to survive this. But we can take some of them out.

  I explain my idea, and her shoulders lift. “You’ll dampen?”

  “For what good it will do. But yes. Maximum dampen.”

  She laughs and leans into me. I’m too tired to push my feelings down, so I tighten my arms around her. She’s here for now.

  The next time one of the Sahras swing low, we try my idea. There’s a clump of the purple demons, and with a massive intake of breath, Vick sends them squawking across 50 meters of teff and cinder directly into the dragon. It works better than we could have hoped, the purple things spewing acid in all directions.

  We watch in something like awe, but mostly triumph, as the great predator lists with one afflicted wing useless with demon mold and tumbles, screaming, to the ground.

  Our stainless gear tumbles about the kitchen in a clatter as the carriage shudders from the shock, and then everything is still. The beast is awfully close to us, but it doesn’t move.

  Vick is still in my arms, but she’s pale and sweating. The remaining dragon aloft calls to its mate below.

  Please, please, fly away, I beg it. Let Vick rest.

  It doesn’t fly away, but it doesn’t come down to investigate, either, at least not for now.

  “Maybe we should move on,” I say.

  Vick takes a rasping breath, and shudders, still in my embrace.

  “That other one is going to come down eventually, I’m afraid,” I say. “Let’s not be here.”

  Daisy is still going strong. “Okay, good girl,” I call to her. “Let’s giddyap.”

  Everything has been stripped away. The carriage gloss, the wonderful ox construct, our weird miscommunications and misunderstandings.

  “We are still going to talk,” Vick says, as I put her under clean sheets and tell her to rest.

  �
��Yes, but rest first. We don’t know what or who will come next.”

  She gives me a tiny smile, and I smile back.

  I don’t know why it takes so much courage, but it does: I lean over her and kiss her cheek.

  She exhales and closes her eyes.

  We limp into Lake Station. Literally limp, in Daisy’s case. The guild vet here specializes in dogs, of course, but they’re happy to take her in and make a big deal of her.

  The station’s pit crew chief stalks around the carriage, tsking.

  Dorie and Jane are ready for the cargo. They look so – clean. Their suits are unscorched, their hair is brushed.

  We must look like wild dragon food.

  Dorie is square and strong and she lifts the safe like it’s a book, transferring it to their sled. Jane gives Vick a searching look.

  Vick definitely took the brunt of the fights, but maybe I’ve just been clueless and people have been rooting for us while we drove.

  “We’ll get it to Lucy and Jess,” says Dorie.

  Handoffs aren’t sentimental.

  And we have rooms waiting for us. Non-moldy, non-ashy. Clean white rooms with bathtubs and refrigeration. It’s an oasis, truly.

  I sign in on the lodge register and, uncertain, I wait for Vick to do the same. I can at least walk her to her room.

  She smiles at the kid behind the desk. She has a little extra color in her cheeks. “Just the one room,” she says to the kid. She jots her name next to mine, and my heart speeds up.

  The stairs are wide and don’t lurch under us, and Vick stays close to me, despite the roominess.

  We’ve been separate for two years, then impossibly together, and now either of us could walk away, but instead we go into the room together.

  There are three imperatives: bathing, thirst – and her. Thirst wins.

  “Oh my god, ice,” Vick says. She crunches a cube, lets it melt on her tongue. She pulls another out of the freezer compartment and puts it under her chin. As the ice melts, a glistening trail in ashen grime trickles past her collarbone. I drink deeply of my own cold glass, my eyes never leaving that ash trail.

  Bathing doesn’t have to come before her.

  It can be at the same time.

  “The other possible interpretation of your why,” Vick says, like we weren’t interrupted by acid demons and days of exhaustion, “is why did I ask to be assigned with you?” She puts her glass down, carefully, and comes towards me. Her lips are cool on mine, and we kiss for what feels like a mere moment, but must have been minutes, because I’m shaky when she pulls away. “Because I want you, Allie. I want to be with you.”

  I don’t know if she means just fucking. I reach for her anyway.

  It’s not a big tub, which means it’s mostly utilitarian, us bathing together.

  Vick undresses swiftly, naked before I’ve unbuttoned my overshirt. She takes over the unbuttoning and pulls my shirt away, drops it with a silly flourish.

  She takes all of my gear off and then helps me step into the tub. She perches on the edge, feet in the water.

  Her eyes are hot on mine. “I didn’t forget what you look like.” Her gaze lingers before dropping to my breasts, my shoulder.

  She reaches out, brushes my belly with cool fingers, and the shudder that goes through me is actually painful.

  I’m so afraid. Afraid that this is her last hurrah, that she just wants to get me out of her system, that she’ll leave me here and I’ll never get over her.

  I’m afraid to hope.

  “Wait,” I say.

  “Wait wait wait wait,” I say.

  Her eyes come back to my face. She pulls her hand away so that it’s frozen in midair next to my naked hip.

  “You don’t want?”

  When she left me two years ago, I didn’t call after her. I didn’t protest. I didn’t ask to be moved to another guild. It’s like I froze, and I’m afraid to thaw.

  “I do. Wait,” I say again before she can move.

  Have you ever seen a locomotive shatter? It’s not impressive. It’s tragic. It’s messy and terrifying and loud and everything takes a long time to get fixed.

  “I’m afraid,” I say. “I can’t survive it again.”

  This time I don’t stop her hand from coming towards me, to curl around my jaw. I lean into her hand.

  “I can’t either,” Vick says against my mouth.

  She’s impossibly gentle. She washes my face with a white cloth and then laughs at the grimy water that streams off the cloth. It takes us several refills of the tub before we’re anything like clean.

  We step out, cool in the washroom air, feet touching on the thick cotton rug, and one bath sheet wraps around us until we’re warm enough to go out into the room.

  Where the bed is.

  “Let me love you,” Vick says.

  I haven’t been with anyone since her. I haven’t even dreamed of sex, or love, or fucking or whatever she means by the word love.

  “What do you mean?” I say, instead of pushing the question out of my mind. If she means sex, I will enjoy it.

  “Allie.”

  We stand, toe to toe, about to tumble into the bed. That part is certain.

  “Allie, I don’t know how you feel either.”

  I’m not the heartfelt declaration type – she knows that. My heart hammers in my ears.

  “I’ve been in love with you forever.” Did I actually utter the words? It might have been a whisper. But her eyes shine and I know she heard me.

  “I love you, Alice,” she says. She takes my hand.

  Vick has always been able to push my buttons, and I’m one big button of nerves and longing. She pushes me back onto the bed and stares down on me.

  “Okay?”

  I nod.

  She hasn’t even touched me, and I’m wet. She hasn’t even touched me and I want to open up for her and let her into the deepest parts of me.

  So when she starts at my mouth, I actually moan in something like frustration.

  She laughs, low and wicked. She nips at my bottom lip. “Oh, good, impatience. Wait one second.”

  I lift onto one elbow and watch in disbelief as her naked self pads into the washroom and returns with the water pitcher.

  “Impatience is not good!” I say.

  “Impatience is wonderful.” She takes a long drink of water, watching me with a grin, before coming to lie on her side next to me.

  “I’ve missed these breasts,” she murmurs. She cups the closer one lazily and my nipple reacts instantly, pointing towards her palm. She kisses it reverently. “God, you’re beautiful, Allie. Do you have any idea?”

  There is a thrumming in my blood, gathering, ready to pounce.

  She smiles. She can feel it. “Patience?”

  “No, no patience,” I say. I reach for her, and she easily swats my hands away. She has me at her mercy and she knows it. She laughs again, the monster.

  I want her to hurry up and I want it to last forever and I want to make her feel like I feel. She strokes my hip with feathery fingertips before pulling my nipple into her mouth with a nip and a scrape of her teeth. I can’t help making a strangled sound. She suckles and then blows on my breast until I tremble.

  “Tell me how you feel,” she says suddenly.

  “What?” I have closed my eyes and now I stare at her. “Goddammit, what?”

  She laughs. “Do you want more?”

  “Yes.” I want it all.

  “Tell me you want more. Say it.”

  It still feels like I need courage. “I want more,” I whisper.

  She rolls over onto me. “Okay.”

  Her tongue is still a little cold from her ice water, and she is aggressive with it – pushing into my mouth like I’m hers, like she has to tell me I’m hers. Our breasts are pressed together, nipple brushing nipple in a way that makes us both gasp. Thigh to thigh.

  She pulls her mouth away from mine, reluctantly. “I love you,” she whispers.

  Then she starts to move dow
n my body, lips and tongue and fingers claiming every inch of me.

  The breast she’d ignored so far, she pinches until I have to hold my breath.

  Every nerve in my body is reaching towards her.

  She is determined to torture me. She brushes my ribs with her lips. She trails kisses down my belly, stopping to tickle my belly button with her breath.

  She spends a long time with her face buried above my triangle of hair, kissing every centimeter of skin along the tops of my thighs. Her fingers circle me, but only so far.

  “Vick,” I beg.

  “What?”

  I raise my head from the pillow and look at her. I’ve never seen anything so thrilling in my life, her face so close to the center of me – her face.

  “Tell me,” she insists.

  I stare at her.

  “Tell me what you want.”

  It’s a dam bursting after two years.

  “Never leave me,” I say. I don’t know how loud my voice is, but in my own ears it’s a shout. “Stay with me.” It’s terror, and it’s a plea.

  It’s the steel I’ve been frozen in for two years falling away, and under it I’m hot and tender and new.

  “I won’t leave you,” Vick says.

  “Never leave me,” I cry.

  Her mouth descends upon me, and for the space of a breath I feel a prickle all over, as when a numb limb wakes up. Her tongue on my clit nearly brings me to the edge instantly, and I flail. I grasp for the sheets, her hair, for something to hold, as she takes my clit with tongue and fingers, and I start to shake.

  I’m not in control of any of this.

  I lift off the bed towards her, towards her mouth.

  “You’re so wet,” I think she says. She pushes two fingers into me, right behind my mound, so that her fingers pull and her tongue I’m falling into her mouth she’s devouring me, and I’m shouting at her to never leave me.

  “Tell me, tell me what you want,” she says, mouth barely above me. She flicks her fingers deep inside me, and I’m coming still as she lowers her mouth to me again.

  I’m raw, I’m hot, it’s the biggest orgasm I’ve ever experienced and she’s somehow still inside me.

  “You,” is the only word I can come up with, and it is all the love and hurt at once, and then I can’t say anything else for a long time.