Trafalgar and Boone and the Books of Breathing

by Geonn Cannon

  “Why am I always the example?”

  “If Dorothy lost a limb.” Trafalgar rolled her eyes. “The temptation to make ourselves whole again might be too much to resist. We are only human. When I say we can’t allow this to fall into the wrong hands, that includes our own.”

  Cora clucked her tongue. “It seems a shame. All that power...”

  “You know what’s been said about power,” Ivy said.

  “Mm,” Cora agreed, nodding her head. “Then I vote for its destruction.”

  Abraham and Cecil agreed, as did Cora and Ivy.

  Trafalgar said, “Then it’s settled. The Books will be destroyed. But we will wait for Dorothy to do it herself.” She looked at the ka statue. “She needs to make the decision for herself. We can’t take away her only opportunity to free Desmond.”

  Cecil said, “You’re positive she’ll come to the same decision we did?”

  The question was posed to Trafalgar, but it was Cora who answered. “She will. It’s the right thing to do, it’s what she would want in his place, and it’s the only moral option. It’s going to break her heart, but she’ll do it.” She looked at Trafalgar. “Where is she now?”

  “Home. Resting.”

  Cora nodded. “I’ll come by and see her in a few days.”

  “She would like that.” Trafalgar picked up the statue. “In the meantime, I’ll find somewhere to keep this safe.”

  She looked at the statue, its crude lines and gaudy paint job. It felt like normal stone, but her experiences in the past week convinced her that Desmond Tindall was somehow trapped within.

  “I’m sorry, Desmond. Truly I am.”

  She didn’t know what else to say, what else could be done. There was no justice to be had, because Amenemhat died with Desmond’s body. There were no promises to be made because their only option was to destroy the statue, which was a death sentence for him. All she could do was apologize and hope that he’d truly made peace before he offered to trade places with Dorothy.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Dorothy and Beatrice drew a bath for each other, dividing the work so neither of them acted subservient to the other. Beatrice got the water to the right temperature while Dorothy laid out the towels and lotions. The time she’d spent in the desert plus the neglect from the time Amenemhat had spent occupying her body made her crave the utmost pampering. When the bath was ready, she and Beatrice settled at opposite ends of the tub. Dorothy massaged Beatrice’s feet and Beatrice shaved Dorothy’s legs. As she worked, she explained everything about the past few days, which led to her divulging her entire quest to find the other elementals.

  Dorothy listened with growing alarm, but she didn’t rise up out of the water until Beatrice admitted to killing Virago. “Here? In the street below?”

  Beatrice nodded. “It was possibly the most brutal thing I’ve ever done. Since then, whenever I try to sleep, I see her face.”

  “Understandable.” She considered for a moment and then said, “Did I ever tell you the moment I discovered my grandmother was a killer?”

  “No.”

  “I was still living at home with my parents. I must have been... I don’t recall, ten or eleven. I came home and found Grandmother sitting at our kitchen table. She had a glass of my father’s whiskey in front of her. I’d never seen a woman drink something so powerful, and she just threw it back like milk. No one else was home and I was always happy to see her, but there was something different about this visit. She warned me not to tell anyone she was there. She had blood on her clothes. I took her into the basement and helped her clean up. She told me she’d encountered a bad man who wanted to hurt many people. Though she wasn’t in physical danger, she had the strength to stand for those who were weaker.

  “You have great power, Beatrice. Your magic makes you a force to be reckoned with. There are people in this world with similar power who would use it against people who can’t fight back. What you did was necessary. What we do is necessary.” Her voice trailed off and she looked down at the razor on the edge of the bath. There was just a small ribbon of blood on its keen edge, a hint of evidence where Beatrice’s fingers slipped. “No matter how much it hurts us, we must use our power - whether it be magic or intelligence - to protect the world. The nightmares and the sadness are just the price we must pay.”

  Beatrice leaned forward and brushed her hand across Dorothy’s cheek. “When the time comes... when do what must be done for Desmond... if you need me to do it for you...”

  “No. It’s something I must do for myself. But thank you.”

  She closed the distance between them and kissed Beatrice’s lips. Beatrice turned her head, using her tongue to tease Dorothy’s mouth open a little wider, her hand moving under the water to slide higher up the inside length of Dorothy’s thigh. Their combined moan echoed off the tile and porcelain, and Dorothy let her hands move to Beatrice’s chest, teasing the nipples as she lifted her hips up to press against Beatrice’s wandering fingers.

  “Tell me I’m a good person.”

  Dorothy moved her lips to the shell of Beatrice’s ear. “If you move your middle finger in a circular fashion, I will begin a religion in your name.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I.” She kissed back down to the corner of Beatrice’s lips. “Finish me off, Trix... I’m close.” She closed her eyes and relaxed her body, cheek-to-cheek with the woman she loved, and exhaled slowly. She held on to Beatrice and moved higher on her lap. Beatrice adjusted the position of her arms and cupped her hand against the hair between Dorothy’s legs.

  “Were you with someone else?”

  “Yes,” Dorothy’s word was a breathless exhale. “She was inexperienced. Curious and... eager... Tentative at first. So slow.” She sighed. “She used her tongue and fingers. I taught her things. I taught her... how to please another woman. And she was so clever when she gained her confidence.”

  Beatrice kissed Dorothy’s neck. “Say nice things about me now.”

  Dorothy swallowed, eyes still closed. “You came into my life as a thief. You stayed because you felt you owed me a debt for saving your life, which means you cherish life. You know it’s something valuable, and you wouldn’t take it from anyone without cause. Beatrice, you are not just a good person, you are a person I trust implicitly. If you tell me that you killed Virago because you had no choice, I would carve it in stone.” She flickered her tongue against Beatrice’s mouth, initiating another kiss as she climaxed. When they parted, Dorothy brushed a stray curl away from Beatrice’s face. “Hell. If you said you had to kill me because you’d exhausted all other options, I might be tempted to hand you a knife and show you my throat.”

  “I love you, Dorothy.”

  “And I, you. Come on... we’ll be much more comfortable finishing this in bed.”

  They got out of the tub and toweled each other off before retiring. Dorothy spent a long while teasing Beatrice before letting her orgasm. Beatrice slapped a hand against the headboard, dug her heels into the mattress, and growled Dorothy’s name with such ferocity that, for a moment, she was afraid she’d injured her. She looked up, gently brushed the pad of her thumb across her bottom lip, and carefully watched Beatrice’s face for signs of more pain than pleasure. When her features relaxed, Dorothy slid up her body and rested her cheek against the smooth skin between Beatrice’s breasts.

  “You are a good person, Beatrice Sek. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. Not even yourself.”

  “The same goes for you.”

  “Whatever needs to be done with Desmond... whatever is decided... I know that I must be the one to do it. But I need you there.”

  Beatrice kissed the top of Dorothy’s head. “Of course, my love.”

  Dorothy let the tension evaporate from her muscles, her arms around Beatrice, and felt sleep begin to take her. Though she feared the dreams that awaited her on the other side, she didn’t fight when it finally took her.

  #

  Desmond’s re
mains were cremated and returned to Dorothy, who placed them on her desk as she made arrangements. A week after the Keepings returned from Egypt, the entire Mnemosyne Society gathered for drinks at the Inkwell in Desmond’s honor. Those who knew him best shared stories for the benefit of those who didn’t, though Dorothy balked at leaving out some of the best details simply because it would require telling everyone about his sexuality. Not every member of the society was aware of their unique relationship. Some of them thought she was mourning a lover, not a friend, and that made it difficult for her to gauge the appropriate response to their condolences.

  The following morning, they boarded a train to Newcastle, and from there they would take cars to the small coastal town of South Shields. Desmond had been born there and once mentioned it was where he would like to be laid to rest. Dorothy held the urn for the entire trip, gazing out the window at the countryside passing them by. Beatrice sat beside her with Trafalgar across the aisle, and both knew Dorothy well enough not to attempt any conversation. Trafalgar had a copy of the Books open on her lap so she could prepare for the ceremony.

  Beatrice drove one car, Leonard drove the other, and they gathered on a rocky outcropping just beyond the breakwater. The wind was light but with enough power for their purposes. Dorothy walked along the short ledge of stone until she reached a set of steps which would take her down to the water. The rest of the group remained on higher ground, lined up single-file at the edge as Dorothy navigated the rocky shore.

  “Well, Des, here we are,” she said under her breath, feeling the cold of the metal through her gloves. “We protected one another for a very long time. I was hardly subtle in my romantic dalliances and, had I been found out, you would’ve become a laughingstock. But I suppose we protected each other with our little lie. It was easy to pretend I loved you, Des, because you were... a good man. An honorable man. I very literally owe you my life, and I’ll never forget what you did for me. Goodbye, Desmond.”

  She turned and nodded to Trafalgar, who brought the ka statue down with her. She placed it on a stone and stepped back to stand beside Dorothy. She folded her hands behind her back and waited until Dorothy gave the nod to begin. Trafalgar lifted her chin and spoke with a clear, calm voice. She recited the spell from the Books of Breathing, an unbinding which would release Desmond’s spirit without forcing it into a new body.

  When she finished speaking, Dorothy uncapped the urn. Within was a second water-soluble vessel which she removed. She stepped over the stones, crouched, and waited until the waves began moving back out before placing it on the surface. She reached into her pocket and withdrew the flowers Cora had destemmed and prepared for the event. She wanted Desmond’s final voyage to be beautiful, so the petals were a veritable rainbow of white, purple, yellow, and blue. She released them to float away with the ashes, which were already beginning to trickle out through the dissolving material of the bag.

  Dorothy picked up the ka statue and examined it carefully. It felt the same, the texture and the weight, but she couldn’t deny there was something different about it. The entire time it had been in her presence, it felt fragile and precious. Now it just seemed like another artifact. Priceless, but at the same time too dangerous to risk falling into the wrong hands.

  “You’re certain he’s gone?”

  “As certain as I can be in this situation. We’ve never exactly been through this before, but the spell was clear. He’s been released to whatever comes next.” Trafalgar looked down at her. “I can do it, if you prefer.”

  Dorothy shook her head. “No. I can feel he’s gone, I just needed your confirmation. I’m just loath to destroy something so ancient.” She sighed and then lifted the statue, bringing it down hard on the stone in front of her. It shattered into more pieces than she could count, more than could ever be reconstructed. They hadn’t been able to find out what gave the stone its unique properties, the ability to retain a soul, but it seemed prudent to ensure it wasn’t left where just anyone could find it. She gathered the largest pieces so she could dispose of them elsewhere. She didn’t want Amenemhat’s statue sharing an eternal resting place with any part of Desmond.

  She stood next to Trafalgar and looked out over the water. Trafalgar said, “I suppose now you’ll have to play the widow.”

  “It shouldn’t be too difficult. I plan to grieve Desmond as much as any wife would.”

  “Perhaps not as deeply as Victoria.”

  Dorothy managed a smile. “Well, perhaps not.”

  Trafalgar touched Dorothy’s arm. “I’ll miss him as well.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Would you like us to leave you alone for a bit?”

  “No...” Dorothy turned around and looked at the group lined up on the wall behind them. Cecil, Cora, Abraham, Leonard, Agnes, Ivy, Beatrice. The people she had brought together, the people who were learning to work as a single unit for the greater good. They were all honorable people, same as Desmond, and they were all so willing to through themselves into danger that Agnes was still favoring her still-healing arm. There was every chance that one day she would be back on a beach like this, saying goodbye to another friend. There was an equally good chance that one of them would come back to release her spirit or Trafalgar’s. They all knew this and yet, there they stood. Former rivals turned reluctant friends and now... a true society.

  “No,” Dorothy said again, “we should start back. There’s much work to be done.”

  Trafalgar nodded and started back toward the steps. Dorothy looked out at the water one last time, the flowers having spread out to cover a larger portion of the inlet.

  “Godspeed, Des.”

  The wind tossed a stray hair across her face and she smiled, swept it away, and hurried to catch up with Trafalgar.

  TRAFALGAR & BOONE

  will return in

  TRAFALGAR & BOONE

  AND THE

  CHILDREN OF THE BURNT EMPIRE

  About the Author

  Geonn Cannon lives in Oklahoma. He is the author of several novels, including the Riley Parra series which is currently being produced as a webseries for Tello Films, and an official Stargate SG-1 tie-in novel. Information about his other novels and an archive of free stories can be found online at geonncannon.com.