by Jo Beverley
It stopped, then settled with perfect gentleness into the fire bed. "Better?" he asked.
Her heart raced and tea and ale churned. "Was that demonstration of control designed to reassure me, because it failed? What are you doing?"
He inhaled and she thought she saw impatience, frustration, anger -- an army of dangerous emotions. Every bit of her flinched, but she made herself meet his eyes.
"All right. I hoped if I just turned up, they'd let me in before they thought about it. Once in, I knew it would be a different game. I didn't expect the guard on the gate now it's over."
"It's become a habit."
"A bad one. Once I was stopped, I could only try persuasion. Nothing would work if I stormed my way in. It's like that night in Surrey Green,” he said, “and you. I need...welcome, Jen."
"The town's not going to fall in love with you." It was an indirect response to his declaration of love and she saw him note it, and put it aside as she had. Their feelings were not the crux of this matter.
"What do you mean `nothing would work? What are you trying to do?"
He flexed his hands in a gesture of frustration. "I don't know. I know I need the town, and I need you. I can pay my way," he added, almost pathetically. "I'm still a fixer."
"More than a fixer."
"True. But I could only do what a fixer did."
His desperation tormented her. Whatever he'd become, he'd done it for them all -- for the town, for Gaia. They should be welcoming him, but a wounded animal is a wounded animal, no matter what the cause.
"If you could pretend to be the old Dan Fixer...." She answered herself. "But you can't. We all know, or at least guess. You're a hero of the Hellbane Wars, mighty and to be feared. Do you know they renamed Bond Street Dan Fixer Way?"
"That's ridiculous."
"But you're stuck with it." She eyed him "Why do I feel comfortable all of a sudden? Is it magic?"
"I don't think so."
The relief only lasted a moment. "Are you saying you don't know? Don't know what you're doing?"
"No, not that. But I can't say there isn't any... radiance from it. If there is, I can't do anything about it. Does it matter?"
It was an anxious question, and she didn't know the answer. She raised her knees and rested her weary head on them. "Explain, Dan. Please. Explain what you're trying to do."
He picked up a dead stick, an ordinary one, and poked at the fire. "The remaining fixers are all more or less as I am now. In power. Hellbanes are a powerful potion."
"Is that why you let everyone think you were dead?"
He nodded. "We had to decide what we’d become before we could decide what to do. We could have disappeared, let everyone think us dead. The thing is, some of us are... out of control. Mad, I suppose. But mad with great power. We're guarding them, but it takes nearly all our resources. Perhaps they'll heal. If not...."
"You’ll kill them?" She was proud of her calm voice.
"We'll have no choice. We can't spend all our resources on them."
“Why not? We miss fixers, but we can cope.”
He shook his head. “Gaia needs fixers. We have to rebuild the system.”
“What, with a handful of you? Perhaps Agnes Cottrell had the right idea and you should stay at Hellbane U and come when called. For important things only.”
“I’m not talking about that kind of fixing.”
“What, then?”
“If the blighters come back. We have to be ready, and we have to find a better way.”
Blighters back? But her mind fixed on the pain at the end of the sentence.
"What happened, Dan? What did you have to do?"
"You don't want to know."
She gripped her hands together. "Tell me anyway."
He tossed the stick into the fire and it burst into wild flames, making her flinch away.
"All right. It was my idea, clever lad that I am. Fixers were dying one by one and the blighters only grew stronger. We all wanted to rush out and fight, but I persuaded everyone to play with their magic like I'd been doing, to find the stuff training had locked up in us."
His eyes brightened for a moment. "It was amazing what some of us could do, Jen, the power we could draw on. It became clear that the presence of so many blighters was making us stronger, day by day. But what to do with it?"
Any light in him died. "Do you remember what I said about power gained and lost? We figured out that we could act in a group and have even greater destructive force but we still couldn't modulate it. What we needed was blighters bunched in huge numbers, and that doesn't seem to be their way."
Jenny was trying to follow his logic, but mostly she was following something that ran beneath his words. Something terrible.
"So we baited a trap."
Her mouth dried. "With what?"
He leaned back on stiff arms. It might have been a relaxed posture, but it wasn't. "They like people more than animals, but they really love fixers -- like I love Walker's spiced meat pies, and you love those big strawberries your father grows. A solitary fixer draws blighters from all around. Perhaps they fight over the prey. I don't know...."
She stared at him, but apart from that betraying pause, his tone was flat.
"So, we formed troops of the ideal size -- about forty, as it happens. We’d form a circle and put the bait in the center. When the blighters rushed in to feed, we cleared the area. We'd get thousands, sometimes, and the juice would flood into us, making us stronger still. Then the troop moved along and did it again. And again. And again. Troops had to merge, of course, in time...." After a moment he said, "It was mostly my idea, and it worked."
She was still trying to form words when he added, "We drew lots. My name was never drawn."
After three swallows, she managed, "How... how many of you were there in the beginning?"
"Just over a thousand-" Like a violently untethered spring, he curled forward, hands over face. "One thousand, two hundred and twenty three."
And eighteen came home. Day after relentless day, numbers dwindling, lots drawn, goodbyes said....
“We all wanted to be noble sacrifices, but the fear’s too strong. So we used magic to hold the bait. Right in the middle. It’s most efficient that way."
She scooted around the fire and gathered his pain tight into her arms.
"You dread being chosen," he whispered. "You dread not being. You dread living-
"Dan. Dan.... Don't. Don't think about it." Oh, how crushingly stupid.
He turned to her and clung, and she did the only thing she could and held tighter still. She wished he'd cry, but he'd surely drained himself of tears long ago.
"You don't want to be here, where you're not wanted," she murmured, rubbing her face against his hair, stroking him, tears escaping. "If it's me you want, I'll come with you. Anywhere."
He turned his head against hers to brush lips. "It's you I want, Jen. It's you I need. You. I thought of you, dreamed of you. When I wanted to throw myself into the blighters because it would be easier, I thought of coming back to you." He kissed tears from her cheek. "Don't cry, love. Don't cry."
"How can I not? But you're home now, Dan. Home."
Then she realized what she'd said. She drew back, cradled his face, looked into his eyes. "It's important to you? That you come home?"
"I don't think I can carry on without it, but... there's more. I'm the only one with a real home to come back to. To heal, I need you. To live, I need you. But I need the town, too. To do what needs to be done, to be what I need to be, I need my family, your family, our family, our friends. Those are the roots of the tree that I am, the tree that magic is, the tree of the future."
She remembered then what he’d said. "When the blighters might return?"
"I don't think we destroyed them, Jen. We zapped a lot of them, millions, maybe, but I think in the end they retreated. We were down to eighteen, and though we were each bloated with power we were close to the end. Yet they went. If this is their life cycle, perhaps the
y retreated with enough energy to reproduce, or whatever they do."
"The last time must have been a thousand years or more ago."
"But that's because they ate this place almost to extinction. We’ve survived. If we slacken birth control, we could build the population again in a generation. Even without that, it'll probably be back in a century or so. Or Earth might send more settlers."
Jenny pressed her face against his shoulder. Eighteen left, all crippled in some way, yet they had to be teachers for a new generation of fixers who might be needed within decades -- needed to sacrifice themselves again? He was right. There had to be a better way.
Dan and the few other sane fixers would have to come up with that better way while training new ones. And they’d have to train them in the wild magic as well as the old sort.
She remembered Polly’s baby. She knew now he’d been right. They shouldn’t interfere too much with nature, but that meant the world must change so that it could accept that. Accept that, no matter the personal suffering, the magic must be restrained unless the blighters returned to feed again. To lead all this, Dan needed his home, and above all, he needed her.
She turned to touch her lips to his brow. "I am home. I am yours. Always."
Lips joined, and she tasted need and lingering ashes. No, need was too frail a word. Starvation. A gaping hollow in the soul he'd tried so hard to hide from her. She could not deny him the feast, no matter what the cost. Gathering him into her arms, she deepened the kiss, took the ashes, and held him close, until she felt the first desperation diminish.
"Come, love, come." She pulled his shirt loose, and put hands to the hot skin of his back, already rolling him out of the fire's low glow into some privacy. They tore at clothes and he thrust deep within, seeming to burn her in the surging connection with those alien places only he could touch.
She climaxed quickly, but he went on, pounding into her until she wanted to protest, to cry stop. She braced herself and bore it, knowing he was far away seeking something deeper and stronger than mere orgasm. Something healing for those invisible, terrible wounds. He drove her through two more mechanical annihilations before he shuddered and stopped, limp as the dead.
She winced as she bore his weight, knowing it symbolized some of what was to come. His need was great, but she would grow strong enough to bear it. His healing would draw on her, but she would be a deep enough well. His thoughts would not always be centered on her, but that was as it should be. He was a hero, and a hero's intent is always on the greater goal.
Dan had become what he was in order to save them all. She could do no less. For his sake and the world's, she'd feed and nurture him.
And tomorrow, she would bring him home.
^^^^^^^^^^
They dressed as the sun began to rise, and breakfasted on stale bread and stewed tea. They laughed about that, remembering the park and the horribly boiled tea there. They talked of the future, gently. He thought there might be many people like her, with a little fixing ability that could be developed so they could take on some of the load.
“Perhaps everyone on Gaia’s that way,” she said. “It could explain why it’s such a flourishing, stable world.”
He met her smile. “Which it is, and will be.”
When the sun was up, they extinguished the fire, packed his bag, and walked up to knock on the postern gate. The wide-eyed gatekeeper opened it and put the formal question.
"What business brings you to Anglia?"
Jenny answered. "I’m Jenny Hart, citizen, and this is my chosen partner, Dan Rutherford Fixer. We’re returning home."
The rule was ancient and absolute. Any citizen's partner had freedom of the town.
"I'll have to see about this," the gatekeeper said, shutting the door on them.
Jenny looked at Dan, trying to see him as others would see him. She thought he looked as he always had. He’d done something to make his hair short again, and he didn't think it would grow so fast any more. Some of the stress was fading from his features.
They'd made love again with the dawn, that time for her. When she’d murmured about cameras, he’d said he’d blocked them. She knew for sure now that it would be all right. She wasn't bringing wildfire into the town, but winter fire, and she would be its hearth.
The gatekeeper returned to open the gate for them. Holding hands, Jenny led Dan through to face the bewildered, hastily assembled alders.
The trouble with heroes is that they want to come home.
But home needs its heroes, and home is also their just reward.
The End
I hope you have enjoyed this story. It’s definitely an outlier in my work, being science fiction, but I have written a number of novellas with fantasy elements. I’ve listed some below.
Most of my work is historical romance in the Regency, Georgian, and medieval periods, all set in my native England, but the subject of heroes recur.
Three of my stories were collected in an omnibus edition called Three Heroes, and The Demon’s Mistress, The Dragon’s Bride, and The Devil’s Heiress feature men back from the Napoleonic Wars. Their experiences were different as were the ways they changed, but they each had to come to terms in order to move on and be happy with their ladies.
All best wishes,
Jo
Other SF&F fiction from Jo Beverley.
The Demon’s Bride.
A Georgian paranormal romance.
Originally published in “Moonlit Lovers,” out of print. Available as an e-book now.)
It’s 1753 and in a remote village in England Rachel Proudfoot is feeling beleaguered. A rakish lord has decided her virtue is a challenge, and her father wants her to advance his studies of local lore by playing the leading role in an ancient ritual. It’s happened every year, and in only one case had anything gone awry, so she agrees. This time, however, the great earth spirit stirs, and Lord Morden might be the only one able to save Rachel from death.
Go here http://www.jobev.com/tdbexc.html for an excerpt and buy buttons.
The Marrying Maid
A Georgian fantasy romance.
An honorable mention for Best Science Fiction, 2010
(Originally published in “Songs of Love and Death.” Available as an e-book now)
Clergyman’s daughter, Martha Darby, is visiting London with her mother as they recover from the death of her father. She’s amused by the follies of the grandees until one begins to pursue her with wicked intent. Rob Loxleigh is equally surprised to be pursuing such a plain lady, but what can he do when finally his destined bride has been revealed to him? He’s the last of a magical line which has long been at war with Faery. If he doesn’t win Martha within weeks, his line will die.
“Beverley writes a beautifully detailed historical romance that takes our heroine down the road of love with Loxsleigh as her guide.” Goodreads
“I was totally charmed by Jo Beverley’s “The Marrying Maid.” Fyreflybooks
Excerpt and buy links here. http://www.jobev.com/mmaidexc.html
Other suggestions.
The Dragon and the Virgin Princess (Originally published in “Dragon Lovers.” This story will be available as an e-novella soon.)
Set in a fairytale medieval land.
Princess Rozlinda of Saramond is the SVP -- the official Sacrificial Virgin Princess -- and has been for seven long years. She longs for a dragon to come because after she provides a few drops of her blood her duties will be over and she can cease to be a V. When a dragon arrives, however, things don’t go as they should. Rozlinda finds herself on a dragon’s back, being carried away to the dragon lands of Dorn by a cold-eyed man with bones in his hair.
Read an excerpt here http://www.jobev.com/dlexc.html
The Raven and the Rose (From “Chalice of Roses.” This story will be available as an e-novella soon.)
Set in 12th century England.
Sister Gledys wants to be a good nun, but she has these sinful dreams about a warrior. She prays and resists,
until an old woman convinces her she hold the secret of the Holy Grail, and only she and her warrior can bring peace to war-torn England. How to find him, however. And when she does, how to convince him of their mission?
Read an excerpt here. http://www.jobev.com/corexc.html
A complete list of my e-novellas is available at here.
A complete list of books can be found at http://www.jobev.com/booklist.html
My next new book is Seduction in Silk, a historical romance set in the 18th century, out in August 2013. Here’s a free sample.
“You have betrayed me, Giles Perriam. You have made me a whore and my unborn child a bastard and your money cannot wash that clean. You’ll hear no more from me, but now and with my last breath I wish on you the sufferings that your black heart deserves. May you suffer as I must suffer. May any wife you take die young as I must die, and any children die young as mine must die. May you yourself die young and suffering. May your guilt oppress you every day until Satan comes to carry you to burn in hell, and may this curse pass to your heirs as long as time may be.”
(This decades old curse has haunted Perriam Manor, and now it seems it will fall on the new owner, Peregrine Perriam, if he cannot persuade a clergyman’s daughter to marry him. Though inconvenient, that shouldn’t be a challenge. Perry is known for his charms, and Claris Mallow is reduced to living in a ramshackle cottage. Little does he know!)
Perry approached a terrace of four small cottages, skeptical that one housed Miss Claris Mallow, daughter of the Reverend Henry Mallow, once friend of Giles Perriam. On arrival in Old Barford, he’d left his horse at the inn and gone to the rectory, which was a handsome house that couldn’t be more than forty years old. There he’d learned that Mallow was a year dead and that his family was living at Lavender Cottage.
Sometimes “cottage” was applied to a small house of some style and dignity, and that’s what he’d expected. This row lacked both, but the end one on the left was fronted by lavender plants, so that must be his destination. The modern rectory lay only a hundred yards away as the crow flies, but it was a hundred miles away in all other respects. Henry Mallow hadn’t provided well for his family, but that could be to his own advantage.
