by K. C. Lannon
Dad straightened up in his chair, intrigued. “Was she?”
“Yes. You might want to check in on your staff there, the educators. She was pretty clueless about the faeries and everything,” he said, more joking than not.
His mind sped unwillingly back once more to what he saw at the fortune-telling tent, and his chest tightened. There was the strange, yellow glow of the light, the water, dark as blood, swirling endlessly. And what that faery had told the girl.
The thought of the faery telling an orphan girl lies about her parents made his blood boil, and he was surprised by how angry he felt. She was too naive.
If she’s not more careful, the city will chew her up and spit her back out.
He’d seen it happen to so many. He’d seen people like Elaine that were swallowed up by addiction. Kindness hardened by a city that couldn’t abide by it. In his brief few months as an Iron Warden, he’d seen more of the city’s bad side than he’d ever wanted to. He’d seen new recruits, young, like him, giving up or breaking down because they let it all get to them. They hadn’t learned to block it out like he did. He’d had to learn the hard way.
Caring hadn’t accomplished anything useful, like he’d thought it would when he was younger. But that was a child’s sentiment. Caring about Elaine hadn’t made her want to change. And caring about the state of the city hadn’t stopped the violence. Action was practical, which was why he’d hoped by joining the Iron Guard he could start making some real improvements.
“Does this girl have a name?” Dad asked.
“I think it was Deirdre.”
“What kind of trouble did Deirdre find herself in?”
Iain opened his mouth to reply but then thought better of it. He was not sure why, but he felt he should keep much of the story to himself to protect her privacy. “She was interested in Ferriers Town. Didn’t know it was forbidden. It has a kind of allure.”
“I imagine it might, to a certain kind of person. The weak-willed, for instance.” His father frowned. “Was she there for Pan?”
Iain swallowed hard, shaking his head in answer. “Anyway, there was no harm done. I found her and told her off, and now she’s back home, safe and sound.”
“She just walked into Ferriers Town for no reason?”
Iain just nodded.
“She heard the goblin men and their calls of ‘come buy, come buy,’ and she couldn’t resist, could she?” Dad was smiling faintly like he was in on some joke. Whatever joke he was making, it went completely over Iain’s head, as he had probably intended.
Iain shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever her reason, I think she learned her lesson. Some faery must have struck her with a curse or something.”
“A curse?”
Iain scratched the back of his neck. “This faery touched her, and she acted like it hurt her. She seemed okay.” He tried not to think about what kind of curse a faery could have cast on her.
She’ll be all right, won’t she? Cursed or not, she has to be more careful. But maybe she’ll make it, with a nice kid like James to help her out. She’ll be just fine once she settles in.
“Are you sure she was human?” Dad asked with a chuckle.
Iain scoffed outwardly. He thought this might have been the longest casual conversation they’d had in ages. “She looked human to me,” he said. He honestly hadn’t given her appearance much thought.
“How descriptive of you. What exactly did she look like?”
“I don’t know. She was a ginger.”
“Where’s that beer at?” Boyd called after a moment of silence.
Before Iain went back into the living room, he ducked out of sight and furiously shook both cans of beer, grinning to himself. He walked back out into the room and handed the drinks to Boyd and Philip. Now all he had to do was wait.
“Did you hear the news?” Boyd asked him.
“What?” Iain hardly heard him, focusing on Boyd about to open his beer can.
“Oh Lord.” Philip beamed and slapped Boyd on the back heartily. “I’ve heard this story about fifteen times today, myself. But it’s a good one. You’re in for a treat.”
“I took down a beast today. A Fae wolf, big as a tank. Right outside the city.”
Iain looked up at Boyd and then to his father. Dad nodded in confirmation. He had never heard of a creature like that being so close to civilization; usually the creatures kept to the mountains in the north.
“It was one hell of a firefight. I was in the front lines. It was my shot that did it in.” Boyd leaned back in his seat, gesturing grandly with his beer can. “Too bad you and Philip were too busy chasing lasses out of Ferriers Town to see it.”
Philip smiled, obviously taking no offense. “I do wish I could have seen it. Always wanted to have a go against a Fae monster, myself. How ’bout you, Iain?”
Iain used to fight pretend monsters in the park as a child, protecting civilians from them and making the city a better place to live. As he grew older he imagined what it would be like when he joined the Iron Infantry one day. Since joining the Iron Wardens, he hadn’t given it much thought. He was too busy to think.
Like I would survive against a Fae monster, as little as the Wardens trained us for that. James would starve without me…
But at the thought of seeing a great creature like how Boyd described, of facing it down, a familiar but long-buried spark of excitement stirred in his chest. He leaned forward unintentionally.
“Yeah,” Iain breathed. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Good Lord, Callaghan!” Philip chuckled in disbelief. “You’re more bonkers than I thought. I was only joking.”
Iain was unfazed. He kept thinking about what it would be like, to be in the fight of his life. It would be different from anything else he’d experienced, he reasoned. He’d fought before, been hurt badly before. It wouldn’t be like taking a hard hit from Boyd. It would be simpler. A Fae monster wouldn’t have a reason to hurt him other than the fact he was human.
“Iain,” Dad said suddenly, and he snapped out of his thoughts and came back to reality. “Come over here, please.”
Iain obediently walked over to where his father sat. “What do you need?”
“Consider this a reward, if you will.” Dad held out a key to Iain.
Iain looked from the key to his father’s face. His father’s green eyes—so much like James’s—were bright with warmth.
“I don’t understand,” Iain said slowly. He took the key in his hand.
“There’s not much to understand. I’ve bought you a flat.”
“In the city?”
“Of course. And it isn’t one of those rubbish flats you’ve been eyeing either. It’s quite close to your work, and it’s near a shopping district as well.”
Iain could not quite believe what he was hearing. He stared at the fireplace, suddenly transfixed by the sparking embers. One of the logs cracked in the fireplace like a bone, and a few charred pieces were spat onto the floor below.
After a few empty seconds, Dad frowned. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“You’ve made the boy speechless, Callaghan.” Philip spoke up mercifully. “That’s a first.”
Dad chuckled in agreement but never took his eyes off Iain.
“I don’t… know what to say,” he said truthfully.
“That’s fine,” Dad replied tightly. “I thought that after all the hard work you’ve put in, you deserve this. I am proud of you, you know, for completing basic training. It was a step in the right direction. I had my doubts about the direction your life was going, Iain, but it appears I was wrong. All of that can be behind us now.”
Iain repeated the words in his mind, over and over to make sure he’d heard correctly. It was strange, hearing the exact words he’d been hoping to hear for some time.
“Thank you,” he practically croaked. “I mean it. Thank you.”
“I only ask that you continue to work hard and fulfill your duties for the betterment of this country.
If you can manage that, we won’t have any problems.”
“Sure,” Iain replied distractedly. “Yeah. Of course.”
Before Iain knew what was happening, Dad stood up and pulled him in for a quick, tense embrace. Iain awkwardly patted him on the back, as one might burp an infant, and wished a quick death upon himself so he could escape the embarrassment.
Dad pulled back and turned to Boyd and Philip, who were watching with their jaws nearly on their laps. “That’s why you’re here tonight,” Dad said to them, “to celebrate Iain’s accomplishments.”
Iain closed his hand around the key until it dug into his skin.
The flat meant nothing to him, but the gesture, the action validated his father’s words to Iain. His father was proud of him. That meant everything.
When he and James were younger, before Mum had left, before the Prance siblings had entered their lives, Iain remembered just how good things could be. He remembered Mum and Dad taking him and James out to the countryside to play and run. He remembered Dad telling him rare, personal stories about his time as a young soldier in the Iron Guard, just to be kept between the two of them.
He wasn’t certain when things had started to change between them. Maybe it had been when Dad had found the Prance siblings and started to spend more time with Boyd and Philip than with him and James. Maybe it had been when Mum left.
Iain only knew that the hostility had cemented between them when Dad had found out about Elaine and his Pan usage. He had let his father down, selfishly shirked his responsibilities as a son and as James’s older brother and protector. He’d been paying penance for that mistake ever since.
“Of course,” Dad said, “I’ll come around now and then to check on the state of the apartment. But if you keep it as tidy as you do the house, then there should not be an issue—”
“What about James?”
“What?” Dad eyed him curiously, as if he’d forgotten to whom the name belonged.
“James should be closer to his schooling, yeah? He could stay with me.”
Dad pondered that for a long moment before answering gradually, “Yes. That might be… a possibility.”
Iain started to laugh disbelievingly. All uniformity and caution flew out the window, and he felt like he could do anything. He turned to Boyd and Philip, grinning, and he threw his hat off and onto the table at their feet. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so good while sober.
“Congratulations, Iain,” Philip said, smiling genuinely.
Boyd, however, was staring fixedly at him. Iain had seen that look many times before; it usually preceded a beating, back before Iain had his growth spurt and Boyd could still do it without fear of retribution. Despite being throttled many times by Boyd, he’d never told anyone about it, so as not to give Boyd the satisfaction. Now all the satisfaction belonged to Iain, and he savored it.
“I’m going to go say good night to James before I leave for my shift,” Iain said, all his words coming out too quickly and jumbled. He darted off before anyone could say anything.
When Iain went to burst into the bedroom, he found James was out of his bed and sorting through a pile of books on the floor. The door caught on a mound of James’s clothing, which he’d thrown on the floor. Iain’s side of the room, in contrast, was always kept tidy; his bed was always made. He made it a point to own as few belongings as possible. James collected trinkets, books, and various clothing items like a magpie hoarded shiny objects.
“What the—” Iain struggled with the door, which pushed back and nearly hit him in the face. He was still thrilled but a little irritated by the time he managed to shove the door open.
James looked up and hurriedly attempted to hide his books behind his back, as if Iain would ever tattle on him for staying up to read. Iain had never told on anyone in his life.
James’s brow creased in concern. “How bad was it?”
Pointing to the wide grin on his own face, Iain asked, “Do I look like it went badly?”
James sniffed. “I’m not sure. Sometimes you make that face when you’re upset, like a madman.”
Iain ignored the strange insult and then began to tell James what happened in detail. He told him about the key, about the flat that was waiting for him, and the looks on Boyd and Philip’s faces. He even told James about what he’d done to their beers.
Finally Iain told him the best news of all: “And Dad said you can live with me. You can live in the city, just like we talked about. Isn’t that brilliant?”
James’s face flickered from a smile, to a confused frown, to a smile again. “That—that’s great, Iain. I can’t believe it!”
“I can’t believe it either, to be honest. You’ll move in with me, yeah?”
“Yeah.” James nodded. “It’s just…”
But Iain did not hear was James was about to say. All he heard was Boyd swearing up a storm downstairs, choking and coughing on his exploding beverage. James had to bury his face in his pillow so no one would hear him howling with laughter. Iain went purple in the face, trying to keep from exploding himself.
“I’ll see you in the morning when I get home, yeah?” he choked out, controlling his voice with effort.
Chuckling, James replied, “Maybe. I might head out early to do some research.”
“Research? You’ve only just started school, you egghead. You sure you’re not meeting your girlfriend instead?”
Iain grinned triumphantly as James’s face flushed.
James protested, his voice cracking, “She isn’t—”
“Just make sure you pay for her meal. She seems like a nice girl.”
James scoffed. “You didn’t seem to think that earlier!”
“Yeah, that was when I was on duty and she was breaking curfew.” Iain grinned. “As a civilian and your brother, I think she might be all right. At any rate, since she’s from the country, you should help her adjust to city life.”
“I’m not meeting her.” His younger brother shrugged, running his fingers slowly over the face of a book. “I just want to get ahead. I’ve got a lot to prove, you know.”
When Iain leaped back down the stairs, Boyd was waiting for him in the darkened hallway. He was standing in front of the entryway table, fiddling with the statue of Saint Sarah among Mum’s photographs.
Iain halted, watching him for a moment. He bit back a laugh when the strong scent of alcohol reached him from the dark stains on Boyd’s shirt. Deciding to ignore Boyd and that he’d messed with him enough for one night, he made his way to the door and began slipping on his boots.
“So you finally have what you want.” Boyd turned and walked up to him.
Iain pulled on his laces sharply. “The only thing I want right now is to get to my post before my shift starts, yeah?”
Boyd was not amused. “General Callaghan may have you in his good graces again against his better judgment, but you ain’t fooling me. You ain’t got his purpose in mind.”
Iain finished tying his boots and straightened up to his full height, standing a few inches taller than Boyd. He met Boyd’s glowering stare evenly.
“I’m gonna be honest here,” Iain said. “I don’t know what you’re on about, and I don’t care enough to ask—”
“The general’s a good man. He’s got a soft spot for blood, so he can’t see it.” Boyd’s hand flew past Iain’s face and rested on the doorframe. “You’ll just take his money, then cut your ties to him, just like your Gypsy-trash mother.”
Iain did not flinch at the slur. He took a slow, steadying breath, blank-faced. “I’m going to be late for my shift,” he said, and wrenched the door open.
“Fae monsters aren’t the only things I know how to put down, you know. I can put down a wild animal too.”
That was a threat. A stupid threat but a threat nonetheless.
Iain thought absently that if Boyd were any smarter, he could be a major threat, and he could maneuver his way somewhere with the higher-ups of the city one day like he’d alw
ays talked about.
“Well,” Iain deadpanned, “if I ever see that rabid fox rummaging through the rubbish around here again, you’ll be the first bloke I call. Just give me a soldier’s discount for extermination, will you?”
Boyd sneered. “You’re no soldier.”
In response, Iain glanced down at his uniform, then back up at Boyd, and then down at his uniform again. Even someone as thick as Boyd could take the hint.
“A soldier does what he’s told without question,” Boyd continued on, as thick as usual. “A good soldier makes a good weapon.” With the final word, he jabbed his finger against Iain’s chest.
“Listen, Boyd.” Iain adjusted his beret on his head swiftly (swift enough in movement to make Boyd back off). “We work separately, and now that I won’t be living here, we’ve got no reason to see each other again. Far as I see it, whatever rows we had are over and done.”
“Are they now?”
“Yeah.” Iain stepped out into the cooling night air and turned back to look at Boyd, “That’s lucky for you. That means I’ll forget that comment you made about my mum, and I won’t knock your teeth out.”
Without another word, Iain left, feeling that all his worries were almost behind him now. His conversation with Elaine no longer jabbed at the back of his skull. His thoughts of a naive orphan girl taking advice from a wicked faery faded too, but the images of what had happened in Ferriers Town tonight did not leave completely. He couldn’t shake his nagging outrage that James’s friend might be taken advantage of, might believe the lies the faery told her.
He thought of what that same faery woman had said to him, years ago, when Elaine had dragged him there to restock her supply of Pan, what he had wanted so desperately to believe: “You’ll see your mother again.”
She’d lied.
Chapter Nine
Alan grabbed his wedding ring from the nightstand and slipped it on his finger. He often wondered why he made the effort when his wife was no longer there to see the gesture. He decided it was out of habit. It was the one thing he did consistently without purpose.
