Lost Girl

by Mary E. Twomey

  Something warm started forming low in my belly. It collected into a ball of taffy-like heat that was easy to hold onto as it rose to the surface. I felt it rise up in me, almost like Bastien was coaxing it out of me. The heat tickled my insides, making me cough when it reached my throat and stuck there. I turned my head to the side, casting Bastien an apologetic look as I coughed into my fist. He kissed my neck and lowered me back to the floor, though I felt like I was still floating on a sea of deliciously heated jelly. The warm ball of taffy in my throat stayed there, though, making me cough more and more to dislodge it or swallow it down.

  Of course this would happen. Of course the hottest moment of my life would be interrupted by a coughing fit. Why wouldn’t that happen?

  I held up a finger to Bastien, who was still coming down from the high of our kiss.

  “Honey? You alright?” Lane called from behind the partition.

  “No!” I choked out as my breathing passage narrowed. “Something’s wrong!” My throat felt hot from the inside and the outside now, radiating an uncomfortable degree of warmth through my body. It burned my throat, scaring me with its sudden insistence that it be dealt with. I heard the splash of water from the tub and slipped through Bastien’s fingers, coughing on the rug on all fours. “Help!” I tried to catch my breath, but it was harder to come by as my chest spasmed. The ball of heat was trying to decide if it was going to move up and out of me, or down and back into me. It kept going up an inch, and then scorching me afresh as it regressed.

  Bastien came to himself and knelt in front of me. Lane was at my side in the next instant, wrapped in a stained beige towel. Her hand was on my back, trying to see if I was choking or not. I picked up my head as I coughed uncontrollably, and Lane and Bastien both cried out, their eyes on my throat. “The lueur! Her body’s giving up her lueur!” Lane cried, whirling on Bastien. “You! You did this to her! You did this to my daughter!”

  “What? No! No, I didn’t! I never promised her anything! She did this on her own!” Bastien backed up, looking like he’d been caught touching the girl with two pink lines on the pregnancy test.

  Lane’s voice was a feigned calm that only made me more afraid. “It’s alright, Ro. Your throat’s glowing with something called a lueur. Just push it back down, and it’ll go back where it came from. Trust me, you’re not ready to choose who you give that to yet.”

  The door opened and shut quietly, and I heard Draper voice his confusion until he saw my glowing throat. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to walk in on a ritual. I didn’t know. You’re her Guardien?” he asked of Bastien, holding out his hand in congratulations.

  “No! No! I barely know her! I’m no one’s Guardien! Stop it, Rosie! Put it back!” Bastien’s voice was higher pitched and cracked with the stress.

  Tears pooled in my eyes from the coughing and the cruel words. We’d been through so much, and he was acting like I was some lovesick teenager with a crush on a guy who had no idea she was alive. I’d been that girl, so I knew that wasn’t what we had. I wasn’t imagining our connection.

  Lane clamped my mouth shut and shouted in my face. “Swallow it down, Rosie!”

  I couldn’t swallow. I could only cough. My face felt red from the strain of trying to obey. I was simultaneously freaking out and heartbroken, all while trying to pull in a breath.

  “I can’t do this! Lane, I’m sorry, I’ve got to get out of here.” Bastien ran – literally ran away from me, charging out the door, and leaving me to choke on the floor.

  5

  Draper’s Pumpkin

  “Here, this’ll help.” Draper knelt to my left on the other side of Lane, tipping a cup to my lips and pouring water down my throat. “Drink it down,” he urged, unperturbed when I coughed a portion of the water back up onto the filthy rug. He closed my mouth and covered it with his larger hand that stank of cigars and sex, and then pinched my nose with the other. He tilted my head back so my body would have no choice but to swallow. I stared up at the dark wood slats that lined the ceiling, hoping this wasn’t as bad as it looked and felt. Draper’s voice was soothing, like a lullaby as he sang, “There you go. Just swallow it down.” He ignored my struggles for breath and Lane’s panic that it wouldn’t go back down. Draper held my face in that awkward way you wouldn’t even let your best friend do without a good five-minute explanation first.

  But I didn’t have five minutes. The heat burned me as it migrated slowly back down my throat, feeling like a log jammed into a pencil sharpener. I swallowed harder, coughing with my mouth closed until the heat finally went back into my belly and began to dissipate. I slumped, and Draper scooped me into his arms, leaning my temple to his chest that moved in and out unevenly with the adrenaline we all shared. I was small in the long arms I found myself curled up in, blinking in confusion while I tried to figure out how I got there.

  “What was that?” I croaked. Tears squeezed out of me, and I prayed I could dismiss them as condensation from coughing too much.

  Draper stroked my cheek, holding me tight to him. “The Untouchable. He’s not your Guardien?”

  “I don’t even know what that means!” I wailed, the tears no longer concealed. “I don’t know what any of this is! I don’t live here!”

  Lane held my hand, moving in front of me so I didn’t have to turn my head from Draper’s embrace. “Your lueur is a portion of your magic – a portion of you. When you give it to the Brownie who swears to protect you and your household, it links you to him. He keeps that portion of your lueur inside of him. It gives him access to your magic without it wearing you down. It’s like an energizer battery. Makes him a stellar protector for you.” She shook her head. “You can’t give your lueur to Bastien. He’s not ready for a commitment like that. I know you like him, but that’s way too serious a decision to make after knowing him less than a month.”

  “What decision? I didn’t mean to give him anything! It just started burning in my belly and climbed up in me when we were…” My voice trailed off guiltily, though I knew I’d done nothing wrong.

  Lane clamped her hand over her mouth, her hard gaze softening. “Oh, Ro. Honey, did you kiss him just now? Was that your first kiss?” Her heart visibly broke for me all over her face as she took in my nod of confirmation. My tears multiplied at the mess it had all devolved to.

  Draper grimaced like he’d never heard of such a ridiculous thing as a woman out of her teen years never having been properly kissed. He kept his mouth shut, though, tightening his arm around my back as he rubbed the stress from my tricep. “So you didn’t mean to give the Untouchable your lueur?”

  “No! We were kissing, and then smack in the middle of it, I couldn’t stop coughing and choking.” My cheeks were pink at having to talk about the intimate things I would only ever want to tell Lane or Judah over a couple beers, days after the fact.

  “This is a problem.” Lane rubbed her forehead. “Let me get some clothes on, and we can talk about it.” She stood, going behind the partition to exchange her damp towel for the clothes I laid out for her.

  “Do you want some more water?” Draper offered. I could tell there were a million things he wanted to say, but he was holding himself back so as not to make me too uncomfortable.

  I nodded, expecting him to hand the glass to me. Instead he pressed the edge of the cup to my lips, tipping it slowly so I could get used to swallowing without the log obstructing my esophagus. “Thanks. Sorry you had to see all this. Total mess.”

  He ran his fingers through my wet hair, loosening the tangles that curly hair always managed to find. “I’m glad I walked in when I did. You shouldn’t give your lueur to some guy who runs out of the room to get away from it. I’ll help you. We’ll figure out why it came up so easily. Has that ever happened before?”

  “Never. And it won’t happen again.” I knew I wouldn’t be kissing Bastien again anytime soon. I doubted I would see the guy before we had to leave, if he came back at all. He didn’t owe us anything. He left me while I was choking
on the floor. He ran out, not knowing if I’d be alright.

  He left, which was bad enough.

  Then something awful dawned on me. “Oh, but wait! Is that going to happen every time I kiss a guy? I’ll have to choke down my lueur or whatever so I’m not saddled with each new guy for life?”

  Draper was hesitant. “I’m sure it won’t be that bad. We’ll find a way around this.”

  My childish panic was quiet, but no less urgent. “What if we can’t? What if I die having only kissed a guy one time before he ran away from me? Is that my life? Is that all I get?”

  “No. No, that’s not for you. You’re special, meant for grander things than this. Only a Brownie can take your lueur, so perhaps just avoid kissing Brownies until we can get a hold of this.” His eyes closed and he gripped my hair. “Oh, your first kiss was in a whorehouse? I’m sorry, Rosie. That one’s on me.”

  The tears fell all over again when it was boiled down like that. “My first kiss was in a whorehouse!” I wailed, wiping my face on Bastien’s sleeve. “Can I borrow some pajamas or a big shirt or something? This is his shirt, and I don’t want it on me.” My heart was stony against Bastien, stung too deep to be understanding of his side of the panic.

  “Of course. Anything you need. Lane said you still sleep. Is that right?”

  “Yeah, and I really need to now. I can’t keep going like this. I don’t even remember the last time I ate. My leg’s busted up. I kissed the biggest d-bag in Avalon, and I just want to go home!” I hated myself for whining, but you try being awake as long as I’d been and see if you’ve got the smile of a cheerleader on the top of a pyramid.

  Draper held me close, kissing the top of my head, as if he knew that’s what I needed to center myself. “Alright, alright. I can take care of the food well enough. And I’ve got a healer on staff to take care of my girls. Do you want me to call him to look at your leg?”

  “No. Thanks. I’ve got my own healer. I was just complaining. I’m sorry. I’m usually not such a sopping mess.” I wiped away my tears. “Thanks for letting me freak out, and for not freaking out yourself. I know I’ll get over it. It’s just a little much right now. Can I lie down?”

  “Sure, pumpkin.” The affectionate term came naturally from him, and landed on me with the grace of a delicate dove. He smiled softly at me. “That’s what I used to call you when you were a baby.” Draper took to me so easily; I didn’t understand how he could be so sweet without knowing the adult me for more than an hour.

  Lane came out from behind the partition in her sports tank and yoga pants. “Here, let’s get you to the bed.”

  “No!” Draper’s protest was unexpected. I looked up and saw embarrassment coloring his cheeks. “I mean, give me a minute. That’s my bed, and I don’t use it for sleeping. You shouldn’t lay down yet. Let me change the sheets.” He looked around the room, as if taking in the mess for the first time. “And let me straighten up while you get changed. Here, I’ll get you a fresh shirt.”

  Lane’s teeth ground together. “You and I are going to talk about your bed and this whole place after she goes to sleep, young man.”

  Draper ducked his head down, but a small smile brushed across the right side of his face. He was easily half a foot taller than Lane and me, but he submitted to her easily, as I always did. “Yes, ma’am.” I could tell he’d missed having any sort of accountability, or having anyone looking after him, telling him to brush his teeth, and making sure he had a lunch packed for school. It was kind of cute.

  Draper moved me from his lap, and went to his wooden dresser in the corner. He pulled out a thermal long-sleeved gray shirt and handed it to me, giving me a light push to go change behind the partition after he helped me to stand.

  I heard Lane mumbling things like, “filthy whorehouse” and “no boy of mine could” while she helped Draper straighten up.

  The fit of the gray shirt was only slightly baggy, and actually hugged my hips a little. The hem fell to the middle of my thigh and made it look like I was wearing a low-budget party dress. Jill would’ve been proud at my display of legs. Then she would’ve winced at my stitches, handed me a pair of knee-high boots and told me politely to cover that nonsense up. I hobbled over to the bed, my face red and splotchy as I clutched Bastien’s shirt in my fist. Lane was tucking the edges of the fresh black sheet under the mattress. For not using it to sleep in, the bed was impressive. It had a carved blond wood bedframe, and four tall posts. It looked positively brimming with good dreams and cozy naps.

  Lane was still muttering under her breath at the state Draper’s life had devolved to. She started making a collection of women’s underwear that she tossed into a large bowl with aggressive hisses and unintelligible mutterings of disapproval.

  I looked up at Draper, deciding I couldn’t be shy around him anymore if he’d seen me at my worst. He had a tray he was filling with dirty dishes, all of which had old food that looked dried on for days. “Draper?”

  He stopped what he was doing and turned to me, surprised I was making conversation that wasn’t angsty crying and wasn’t forced by Lane. “Yeah, baby Rosie?” He shook his head. “Yeah, Rosie? Sorry. Old habits. I look at you, and I get that you’re twenty-two, but you’re still that little chubby-faced baby I sang to sleep every night.”

  “Really? You sang to me?”

  “Every night, for like half an hour. You screamed your head off if I didn’t. Lane delegated bedtime to me when we first got you.”

  “That’s… That’s really cool of you. I wish I remembered that. I always wanted a brother. I mean, I have Judah, so that counts, but other than him.”

  Draper set down the tray of dishes to implore me with his eyes and splayed hands. “I am your brother!” he said, too earnest for a casual conversation. “Lane raised us like that. I know we’re truly cousins, but I was supposed to be your brother. You were my responsibility. When you cried, I ran and got you. Even though we had the whole palace to pick from, your crib was in my room! I did everything with you because you would scream whenever I left your sight. Lane did my lessons with you in my lap. I ate one-handed. All of it. Every day, every night, not an hour of space between us.” His face fell. “And then one day?” He snapped his fingers with a sorrow to his eyes that moved me to emotion. He had that way about him that made me empathize with whatever he was feeling. “You were gone, and I was being shipped back to Province 2. I stayed there for a month before the great Duke Henri decided I was unworthy of the throne, and unwelcome in his home. ‘Draper the Disappointment’ was my nickname. Old Duke Henri said I didn’t have the iron grip needed to rule, so he sent me to live with Aunt Avril.” He shuddered. “She was terrible. Worst was that I knew you were screaming somewhere without me to sing you to sleep, and I couldn’t find you! I searched everywhere. I ran away from Aunt Avril so many times, eventually she stopped looking for me. That’s how I ended up here.”

  “King of the gutter,” Lane muttered. Her eyebrows were knit together in concern for his plight, but her mouth was still frozen in a tight line of disapproval.

  Draper was distraught, so he took a half-smoked cigar out of his pocket, and unrolled it from the wrapper. He took a match from his dresser and lit the end apologetically. The first puff seemed to center him. The second relaxed his shoulders. “Sorry. It’s all just a little much.” He leaned against the wall, his eyes far off as the cigar took him back to places I could tell he didn’t want to visit without a lifeline. “I tried to go back to Duke Henri on one of my escapes from Aunt Avril, but he kicked me out. Disowned me after putting a stash of gold in my backpack and sending me on my way. He had Damond at that point, and didn’t want the people in Province 2 worrying that I would inherit the throne.”

  Lane had her arms around him in a hot second, holding him together, in case he wanted to fall apart after giving a voice to his wounds. “Oh, sweetie. I had no idea it would be like that for you. I wanted to take you with me so badly! I wanted to steal you away, but that would’ve actually bee
n kidnapping! Urien begged me to take Rosie up to Common to escape Morgan. I was scared, and I was wrong. I should’ve taken you, or at least stayed and explained things until you understood. It wasn’t just Rosie who cried for you every night that first year; I did, too. That’s how we got through it. I held her, sobbing my eyes out with Rosie until she exhausted her little lungs. You’re worth more than that sack full of gold. You’re the whole treasury! Please forgive me, Draper. Please.”

  Draper swiped at his face, looking down with adoration at Lane. “It never even occurred to me to be mad at you. I get it. But don’t leave me this time. I really… I can’t go through that again.”

  “Never,” she promised, jerking him with her squeeze. When Lane turned, she motioned me forward, bringing me into the hug that almost hurt, she was gripping us so hard. “My kids. My sweet kids.”

  Though it was new to me, the love was there, ripe and beautiful.

  When the hug broke, Lane helped me to the bed, digging a thick red comforter out of the chest at the foot of the bed. I held up Bastien’s shirt to Draper. “You’re sort of like my brother now, right?”

  Draper nodded, his face beaming with adoration that I accepted this new branch in our stapled-together family tree so easily. “Yes. I’m a great brother. Ask Damond.”

  “I’ll take your word for it. This shirt is Bastien’s. Can you make sure something totally disgusting happens to it before he gets it back?”

  Draper grinned at the first job in his resumed post as my big brother. “How disgusting are we talking?”