by Ana Mardoll
"I've heard him, Celia! 'Help them, help Rose; I'm fine'." The lovely voice deepens into dark honey, perfectly mimicking his soft accent. "That's more than enough to pin him down to the area! Get me a map to draw a circle on if you must, but I'm done and gone. I won't stay here while hunters are prowling around!"
"Lily, you brought your laptop, didn't you?" Celia's voice is as steady as ever but carries an undercurrent of warning. "Why don't you get some work done while we wait?"
The other woman makes an angry noise, but doesn't argue; I hear her sit heavily in a nearby chair, followed by the furious clicking of computer keys. I turn my head towards the sound, my eyes adjusting to the harsh light filtering in through sheer curtains. As my vision swims and clears, I realize I'm lying in a strange bedroom on a big bed full of crisp white pillows and cerulean blue sheets. I've turned to face a beautiful blond woman with gold-dusted skin who sits sullenly in a nearby easy chair.
"Oh, good," the glittery woman says tartly when she sees my open eyes. "You're awake; we can get this over with."
I hear a small gasp of relief, and then someone heavy and cool settles onto the bed beside me, silver arms draping gently over me in a tentative hug. "Rose! Rose, are you all right?" Clarent asks in a voice as soft as a prayer.
"I'm okay," I whisper, testing my voice. I'm amazed to find there's no pain; even less than yesterday when I was on Worth's medicine. I ought to be badly burned from the magma man's rough handling. Instead I feel fine, impossibly whole and well. "Where's Lavender?"
"She's okay," he reassures me quickly. I turn my head to face him, my vision swimming at the movement. His silver eyes are worried and pained as he studies my face, and he's still in his bloodstained clothes but looks otherwise healthy. "She's downstairs with Joel and Worth. They're getting you some water and food."
He's interrupted by music which suddenly floods the small room. Warm piano notes pipe tinnily from laptop speakers, accompanied by a voice like a liquid purr singing in a language I don't understand. Celia is leaning against the wall by the door but looks up sharply at the music. "Lily," she says, her voice a low warning.
The blond woman ignores her, turning gold-flecked eyes to Clarent. "You, silver boy—do you understand the singing?" He nods, blinking at the question. "Congratulations," she says in a clipped voice edged with anger. "You speak Spanish, surprising no one," she snaps. "Welcome earthside. Please enjoy bonding with Celia over your newfound shared language. I'm leaving."
Lily rises in a fluid motion, and I blink when the sunlight catches her. For a moment she gleams as brightly golden as Clarent is silver, but it's just a trick of my eyes. She's not metal as he is; she's flesh and blood, with body glitter grafted into her skin. A gilded lily, I realize, and not a real Flower like Lavender and I. She snaps the laptop shut with a flick of her wrist, but the music continues, dancing in the air around us.
"Lily, please sit back—" Celia's stern voice falters as a man's voice joins the singing, thick and high and lovely. He's singing in English about lips touching and sparks flying, about danger and flames; my breath catches suddenly in my healed throat, and the beautiful harmony continues.
Celia's expression darkens dangerously and she rounds in anger on the golden woman. "Lily, shut that off!"
Lily gives her the most innocent of looks. "What, you don't like Hugh Laurie's Kiss of Fire? I'll admit he's no Louis Armstrong, but I do love Gaby Moreno."
I'm having trouble breathing, gripping Clarent's cool hand tightly with my own and trying to close my ears to the relentless music. Celia's voice is furious. "Lily!"
"Oh, all right," she concedes, thumbing the laptop open and touching a button. The room falls blessedly silent.
Clarent strokes my hand gently, and I open my eyes to his worried gaze. "Are you okay, Rose?" he whispers softly.
"F-Fine," I assure him, gasping for air. I shoot the golden woman as dirty a look as I can manage. "I'm good. No thanks for that," I splutter weakly.
Lily looks utterly unfazed. "She's a city girl," she observes coolly. "Her accent's muddy. Born up north and then brought down here, I'd guess. Hard to say; she's picked up a lot of faery inflections in otherworld. Never lived in the country, though; not like her purple-headed California girl with the freckles." She frowns then. "Something else. The intonations and the way she releases. Ugh, what a bother. Hang on, I don't have this one memorized."
She plunks back into her seat and pulls up something on her laptop. "Repeat after me," she says crisply, her eyes flicking over the screen. "Baruch atah Adonai—"
The words aren't English, and yet I know them. I can feel the spaces between the sounds, even as she reads them off too quickly to hear. When I open my own mouth to repeat the words, I find that I'm almost singing, a soft chanting cadence that fills the room. "Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu, melech haolam, asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav v'tzivanu l'hadlik ner shel Shabbat."
Blessed are You, Adonai our G-d, Sovereign of the universe, who hallows us with mitzvot, commanding us to kindle the light of Shabbat. And then, another thought hard on the heels of the first: Have I always known that?
"Congratulations," Lily says dryly. "You're some flavor of Jewish. Good luck sorting that out on your own time." She levels a contemptuous look at Celia. "Satisfied?"
Celia still simmers, though her voice is calm again. "Go downstairs, Lily. Wait with Dakota."
"Oh, goody!" Her golden voice rises in a parody of enthusiasm, although her face remains set in a sneer. "I can bond with the adorable child. What sort of music do you think they'd like?"
Celia grinds her teeth in frustration before running a defeated hand over her brow. "Fine; we'll manage Elric without you. Go home. But call me if you get into any trouble, Lily; I mean it."
The beautiful woman sniffs, looking almost offended by the offer. "I'm safer on my own and you know it, Celia," she says coldly. "And don't look for me at your meeting tonight. I think it's criminally irresponsible to pile everyone into the same room when hunters are prowling around looking for this one." She jerks a thumb at Clarent, gives me one final hard look, and sweeps haughtily out of the room.
"Don't come running to me when you get yourselves killed," floats back, her final parting shot as she descends the stairs.
Celia stares after her for a moment, her expression an odd mixture of fury and softness. She returns her gaze to me. "You sure you're okay, Rose?" she asks.
I nod silently, thankful for Clarent's reassuring grip on my hand. I'm still trembling from the first song, the one about fire and kisses, but my mind whirls with the revelation brought by the second song, the one I sang without consciously knowing I could. I have a past. I still don't remember it, but I have a starting point now.
"Try not to let Lily bother you," Celia counsels, noting my shaking with her gently worried eyes. "She's had a rough time of it." She runs her fingers over her russet-brown braid. "Elric will be here in a bit with all the paperwork, now that the healers have the worst of the wounds fixed up."
I clear my throat softly, reluctantly pushing away my excitement about my past to focus on our immediate present. "About that," I start awkwardly. "What happened?"
There's a rough step on the stairs in the hallway and a mottled face appears at the door, shielded by his customary hood. Indeed, I think it's the same hood he was wearing yesterday. Joel's blue eyes alight when he sees me. "Ah! I told you it would do the trick! She's already waking up!" He bustles into the room, coming round the side of the bed to peer at my eyes with a tiny flashlight he produces from a pocket.
Worth follows at a more sedate pace, carrying a glass of water which nee sets down on a nearby table before bending over to touch me with gently probing fingers. "I never said that it would not heal her, Joel; and, if I recall correctly, administering the dose was my idea," nee says, ner voice dignified. "I merely expressed concern that your methodology is alarmingly imprecise. No, child; hold still, please," nee adds to me, as I stir under ner touch. "Half your face was melted be
fore we gave you the injection. You're healing up fast, but we don't want you to strain yourself."
Joel looks aghast at ner skepticism. "Well, clearly it does work," he points out touchily. "New skin in a matter of minutes, and she woke up faster than we thought she would; only slept for about an hour." He peers at me. "How is the pain?" he asks, his papery voice eager.
I blink at him. "No pain," I say, shaking my head.
"See?" he says, aiming a triumphant look at Worth.
Nee sighs. "Yes, it works," nee says patiently. "We still don't know why."
"I told you: I isolated the binding agent in the venom—"
"You isolated something that you believe is a binding agent, via a process you didn't write down adequately the first time and yet managed to reproduce perfectly the second time. All despite the fact that her last batch was full of blood-borne impurities, and you maintained almost no controls in your lab." Worth levels him a dry look. "And we still have no idea why the substance in her lips can heal after your treatment, yet kills on contact before it. Nor do we know why the metal boy is immune to her when the body downstairs was clearly not."
"Rose!" Worth is interrupted by the appearance of Lavender in the doorway, carrying a plate piled high with sandwiches. She shoves the plate into Celia's hands when she sees me, surging forward to clamber onto the bed and hug me around the waist. "You scared the daylights out of me," she scolds.
"Lavs, your face," I breathe, touching her gently. She's perfectly whole, not a burn or a blemish on her; her freckles stand out against the white of her skin. Her hands, too, are soft and healed. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I'd think the magma man had never touched her.
"I'm fine," she insists, reaching to stroke my cheek. "You were hurt the worst! Joel healed me." She looks up, frowning. "Now that we're both well, can you go back to healing Clarent?" she prompts, her voice insistent.
"Ah, yes, sorry," Joel responds, not terribly contrite as he bustles to the other side of the bed to place his long spindly fingers on Clarent's neck. Clarent winces at his draining touch but submits with quiet grace. "Rose was being interesting and Worth was arguing."
I stare at Clarent, realizing with a start that he is more wounded than I'd first realized. The bright sunlight flashing from his silver skin had blinded me to the lingering indentation in his neck where our attacker had softened and bent him, nor had I seen the blackened burns that remain on his hands. He returns my look self-consciously. "They started on me, but I wanted you two healed first," he admits. "I've had lots of burns before in the smithy, so it wasn't as bad for me."
"Liar," I gasp, knowing it must have been painful for him to wait. I want to lean in to kiss him, but Joel is in my way. Only then do I remember all over again that kissing is for normal people. I, on the other hand, have just killed a man with my lips. Again.
"You saved us," Lavender whispers, snugging me tightly around the waist and jarring me from my thoughts. "I heard most of it while I was still dazed on the ground, and Clarent filled in the rest while you were sleeping. That hunter was going to knock Clarent out and carry him back over to the faeries. He'd probably have taken one of us with him, too. You stopped him, Rose."
My laughter sounds weak in my ears. "And you two saved me," I say quietly, remembering. Clarent had been able to turn the man human once he was no longer pinioned and fighting for breath and the hunter was distracted by me. Lavender had then killed him before he took me with him into death. "Thank you," I whisper.
Celia watches us closely from where she leans against the wall. "Dakota and I were able to get you all into the house before the portal dissipated," she says calmly. "Lily called the healers once we could get a signal out." She hesitates. "Rose, I know you aren't thrilled about your poison and don't want to make a habit of killing—I think that's wise—but I want you to know that you three did the right thing."
I nod mutely at her, but all I can concentrate on now is Clarent. He winces again under Joel's draining fingers, his silver skin blackening and bruising wherever the healer touches. "Does it hurt?" I whisper, running my fingers anxiously over his arm.
Clarent offers me a grin between winces. "It's not too bad," he promises. "Better than being bled for the swords."
"It's awful," Lavender contradicts, but her tone is cheerful and the air around her is soft and sweet. "You're lucky Joel's magic doesn't work on you, Rose."
I blink at her. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, you very nearly died," Joel interrupts blithely, sending fresh shivers down my spine. "Your magic simply will not catalyze correctly; I could barely heal you at all. Then Worth had the bright idea of using the venom we collected yesterday. We only had a single dose, not nearly as strong as what we used on Kieran." He sighs, the huff of air sounding wistful. "I don't know what we'd have done if we lost you. How would we collect more samples?"
"Joel! For goodness' sake. "Worth clicks ner tongue at him. "Child, we've all of us been worried about you, and not just for your fluids," nee says dryly. Nee leans over me again, brushing my hair from my brow. "We do need to ask you some questions, though," nee says, ner voice apologetic.
Worth's hands feel good against my skin, cool and gentle. I don't know our altered physician very well—we've only met briefly at the get-togethers before all this started happening—but I like ner, and nee has already done so much to help me. Looking up into ner dark eyes I almost feel like we're alone, that I could tell ner anything and the answers would remain between us. I nod, subdued. "What kind of questions?"
Ner voice is gentle. "Can you tell me about your time in otherworld, Rose? I only know bits and pieces."
I nod again. "I'm always honest about it," I say, a little defensively. Lavender's arms grip me tighter around the waist, but she seems far away. "I just don't like to talk about it much. Bad memories. Takes my breath away, makes my heart hurt."
"I know," Worth says softly, still smoothing my brow. "I don't want to trigger you, but this could be very important. Can you remember a little for me now, here where you're safe? You were used to kill other captives, yes? Could you describe a typical encounter?"
My tongue feels thick in my mouth. "If the May Queen owned the man, he'd be brought into my room," I say slowly, my heart already beginning to thud faster. "If he belonged to a party guest, my job was to seduce him and draw him off to a secluded place. I never had any trouble doing so, but I hadn't realized my fingers cause desire until Elric told me so last night. My job was to kiss them, or let them kiss me, and then they died; always." I hesitate. "Well, almost always. One faery man survived."
Clarent squeezes my hand, frowning with concern. Worth nods again, very gently, ner curly hair a dark nimbus cloud framing ner kind face. "Did you ever kiss anyone like the hunter downstairs, made of lava and fire and stone?" Ner fingers tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Is that how you knew you could kill him?"
I shake my head slowly. "No, the May Queen never had anyone like that over. She didn't like fire. I didn't know if it would work or not, but I couldn't think of anything else to do."
Nee looks thoughtful, glancing up at Clarent. "Child, did you turn the hunter human before or after she kissed him?"
"During, I think," he says, sounding unsure. "She kissed him and he dropped me. Once I wasn't choking anymore, I was able to concentrate on realigning his magic; before that, I couldn't think straight while I was gasping for breath."
Worth nods again. Nee touches my brow once more and then moves away to sit in the chair that Lily vacated. There nee steeples long fingers and studies me with dark eyes, ner gaze lacking the commanding authority that had been in ner face moments before.
I blink, feeling as though I am emerging from a mental fog. What was that? I would have responded to ner questions truthfully without prompting; I have no reason or desire to lie to Worth. Yet there had been a moment when I couldn't even imagine refusing to answer ner.
"What are you thinking, Worth?" Celia says, her calm voice intruding. "W
e've dealt with desire-magic before. Mina has a dose, though she lost a lot of it coming through her portal." She gives me a blunt look. "Haven't been getting that vibe from Rose, though."
Lavender looks like she can't decide whether to be relieved or annoyed. "I mean, the idea came from Elric," she says, rolling her eyes. "I said he was wrong."
"I don't think he was," I protest. "Lavs, I put my hand over the hunter's heart and he kissed me back! He had every reason not to drop Clarent. He knew we had friends in the house, and it was important to finish knocking Clarent out and get back over before the portal closed. Lavs, he knew that and he dropped everything in order to kiss me."
Worth nods slowly. "There's something magical about her," nee says, looking thoughtful. "Beyond the lethal kisses, I mean."
"There's also the problem of healing her." Joel's voice hisses softly from Clarent's side of the bed. "Her magic won't catalyze properly. I think that does it, boy," he adds to Clarent, finishing his healing work. He stands, unfolding his gaunt body slowly, and walks with halting movements to my side of the bed. "Worth, you saw. It was like trying to light damp wood. Her magic didn't want to burn properly. I've never seen anything like it. As for these fingers—"
His long, gnarled fingers reach for my hand. "They cause desire," I warn, my voice pinched tightly with fear.
"So I hear," he says dryly, his voice like brittle paper. His draining fingers grasp mine gently, turning them carefully in his grip, bruising and numbing my green skin wherever they touch. "But they don't."
I blink at him. "But Elric—"
"Elric almost certainly desired you before he ever touched you," Celia interrupts calmly, watching us closely from where she leans against the wall by the door. "He has a bad habit of believing that everyone around him feels as he does."
