by Kara Silver
“I didn’t sell her a ticket. She just came,” answered the woman.
Aeth pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just, you had one fucking job to do, Sela. To come here. That was it. Didn’t you think, ‘oh, okay, so I’ll do that and not act as a free ride, as a fucking shuttle service’?”
“You swear less there.” Sela jerked her chin, indicating elsewhere.
“It’s because he’s worried about his charge. His pupil. Their bond is strong.” The whole of Halvard’s big, hefty body, not just his long-haired, green-eyed face, looked pleased with itself for imparting that.
“Yes!” The other woman jumped up and down on the spot, her short black hair bouncing. “And that’s why she was able—”
“Ignoring most of that,” Aeth said, “You could say it’s Utopia, because that means no place. And changing the subject just slightly, how do you all think your first calling is going? Well? Not so well? Fucking badly?” That shut them up. “So. Your first mission is coming soon, with this your first meet and brief. And they’re needing three of you to work it, which I think says it all. I guess we could suppose it couldn’t get worse…”
“Arrrghhh! Never say that!” Kennedy butted in. “Don’t you watch movies? The second anyone says that… Wait.” She indicated the other three. “Are these your apprentices?” She fought a laugh.
“Yeah, and I wish I could fire them,” he muttered.
“So you have three trainees and a student.”
No pupil. You turned him away.
Kennedy spun like a whirlpool trying to see who was speaking, and from where. It didn’t seem like normal sound—or what passed for normal here—but more like something felt, directly in the mind. “And that’s not you practicing your ventriloquism for open mic night?” she asked Aeth.
“Spirits,” Kaya whispered, putting out a hand as if to feel them.
“Djinn?” Sela obviously drew on her own traditions to make sense of things.
“Gods.” Halvard sounded sure.
“They’re the Presences. I suggest you brace yourselves—”
“Whoever you are, and wherever you are, does this look like I turned him away?” Kennedy yelled. She was weary to her last bone, exhausted to her last nerve, but she’d do this, and she’d damn well win.
You are untrained. He has failed to impart—
“Untrained? How dare you! Didn’t you see how well I just did in all these little tests you threw at me?”
“Kennedy, they weren’t t—”
She ignored Aeth. She’d sort out his boss for him. “Let me run you through my training schedule, mister.” She listed all the things she and Aeth did, the physical exercise—and the mental. “And here’s all the mage-craft I’ve gotten the hang of so far. So, if you need a comfort break, go now. This will take a while.”
Having performed something once or twice was mastering it, wasn’t it? And the list was quite impressive?
What have you learned of the geosphere?
“Is that the pedo-thing? No, the lithosphere!”
Your powers manifest in domination of the geosphere, which is the lithosphere, the hydrosphere, the cryosphere, and the atmosphere. You—
“Can blast the hell of earth, air, fire, and water. And dark and light. And thunder and lightning—weren’t you listening just now?”
She could just see Aeth closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Look, I don’t need that! It’s not like that these days. I don’t need all the theory. Let me put it another way.” She composed herself, marshalled her arguments. “Maybe in the past you had to write everything on a slate and memorise it before you go on to the next thing, because you had to wipe the slate clean and start over, but not now! Times change, and we have to change with them.”
“She’s good,” commented the Middle-Eastern-looking girl.
“And passionate.” Halvard made a noise that must have been approval in his culture. It sounded vaguely salacious. Kennedy glared at him and pressed on.
“Just consider writing.” She knew about that, from an anthropological perspective. This wasn’t so different. “Did you know that schoolkids had to learn knitting first? And why? Because they had to knit themselves the cloth they needed to wipe their slates with, so they could use their slates! And it had another purpose. It meant their motor skills were developed enough to start writing their letters. So, then they had to learn letters. All curly and cursive and pretty. Now, kids start word processing as soon as they start school. They don’t need all that calligraphy anymore. But they’re learning, and working, and achieving.”
She swallowed, wishing she had water. “And that’s what it’s like with us.” She pointed across at Aeth. “We’re partners. Okay, sometimes we get irritated with the other. I bet we have incompatible star signs. He’s probably a Scorpio. If hermai have star signs? I don’t mean to impose our belief system on another culture. But arguing and defending a position—it’s healthy!” Probably. “It doesn’t mean we’re not a team.”
She couldn’t read the room—there was no room to read. And she was tired, hungry and just fed up. “Look. I’ll prove it. I’m here and he’s there. To join him, or for him to join me, I bet all it takes is a leap of faith, right? So I’ll do that and arrive there. Or we’ll both do it and meet in the middle. You’ll see…” And with that, she took the few steps back that her small platform permitted, then started a run.
“Kennedy! No—”
But she didn’t hear the rest of Aeth’s shout, because as soon as she left the pillar, she screamed in agony, something splitting her body apart, into atoms, while she fought to hold together. Every cell shrieked its torment as she scattered, dispersed.
* * *
“No!” Aeth shouted.
She shouldn’t have come here. This was not her place.
“I don’t care. You cannot let her die like this. Send her back to Earth, and send me with her.”
Kennedy struggle to reincorporate. She had to speak to him—
You know why you were summoned here. You know what’s coming. That we must prepare.
“I know what’s coming. But I also know I need to be there with her.”
She was fading so much she could only hear Aeth now, not who he was speaking to.
“Even if she is the trigger, send her back to Earth and send me with her.”
She was going. This was it. The end. Darkness, pain, more darkness and agony. Then with cries of fool! ringing in her head, she clashed together, almost blown apart, to jolt and crash land. In a familiar place. On a familiar place. A familiar roof. She tried to speak but could only make a long, racking groan.
“Kennedy!”
She was dead. Or hungover. Both. “Never drinking again,” she muttered, raising her head. She regretted that movement, then regretted even more letting her head flop down again, when it hit hard stone. “But I need a drink.”
“Here. I have one for you.”
She knew the voice. Knew where she was. Knew— “That?” She tried to point, meaning elsewhere. “Did it happen? Thanks.”
He helped her sit and she took the energy drink he held out, to down in a three massive, sucking gulps. He winced, no doubt at her manners, and took the empty bottle from her.
“You remember?”
“Yeah.” She became aware of their position, that he was cradling her to him, holding her to his chest. It felt…okay. Strange but okay. Nevertheless, she pulled away and got to her knees. She slanted her head to see him. “Did I rescue you?”
“Ha! You mean, did I help you pass a test?”
“Bollocks.” She got to her feet, squatting, but on her feet. “I got you out.”
“I think you’ll find I got you out.”
“I think you’ll find…” She swayed but stood. “That we’re a team. A package deal.”
“Yes,” he muttered in turn, taking her arm for her to lean on him.
Understanding passed between them without any words needing to be
said. Just as well—she had no idea how to voice all that sparked and fired between them, all that been asked and answered, or even if she understood it. She should probably feel guilt for having gatecrashed that no place, for causing him more grief, but she didn’t, and didn’t feel he was waiting for her to. For now, for this one precious second, she was content to draw on his strength, his thereness.
“Well. Shall we just chalk it up as part of my training?” Kennedy enquired after a few minutes, pulling to stand on her own and trying to sound bright and cheerful.
“Or part of mine.”
“You, training? Like Invisi-Dude said.” Kennedy bit her lip, catching on. “What was…no, is, happening? That all four of you were there?” When he remained silent, she squeezed his arm. “You don’t know, do you? Because you should be there, preparing for something! And you’re here, all four of you, look, because of me and then something…” She sank to the floor again.
“Kennedy.” He waited until she looked up. “It’s fine. It’s going to be fine.”
“Promise?” She pulled him down and lay flat. After a moment, he lay down too, his head touching hers, their bodies making a Vee shape. “And feel free to be flexible with the truth if you have to.” She hated this, that he’d helped her in the short-term but that things, in the long-term, weren’t—
“I promise,” Aeth said.
She hadn’t known hemai could lie.
21
Silence reigned, hanging over them. College might have been busy, bustling with visitors and activities, but nothing was heard here.
“You’re thinking about your parents.” Aeth’s non-question was said softly, almost tenderly.
“Well…” She could smell the pot-pourri and wooden floorboard polish of the large London house, feel the softness of the Labrador’s coat under her palm, hear the symphonies tinkling from her mother’s piano. “A bit.” She threw her arm over her face so he wouldn’t see if any tear escaped. She frowned and squinted, willing them back. “But it wasn’t real, was it?”
“Yes, it was.”
“What?” She turned to him, amazed. “How?”
“It’s a possible life.”
That’s…worse. She didn’t say it, but had no doubt he read it in her sudden stillness. So seductive, and so wrong. “I always wondered about them, you know? Orphans do. It’s a thing. Why I was abandoned, at just a few hours old, where I was born, to whom… No; it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. But now I wonder…if one or both of my parents were demons.”
Aeth remained silent, as she’d told him to. Kennedy forced out a chuckle. “Pumpkin Pie! What kind of name is that for a dog!”
“Should I answer that?”
Asking and answering questions…something about it caught at her. She was about to speak when a church clock struck, making her twist and stretch to get her bag, moaning as each abused muscle protested, to switch on her phone and see the time. “That can’t be right,” she said, showing Aeth the screen.
“What, that ridiculous screen background? I agree.”
“The time, Mr Snarky. It’s still the same as when I got here after I was sprung from choky. Ah, of course. No place, no time.”
“You’re learning. And I’m sorry I couldn’t help. Earlier.”
“Hey.” She hated it when he looked like that. Bleak. Desolate. “It’s fine. But you know what’s happened? To Emma?”
Aeth nodded, standing and helping her to her feet.
“It’s not the…group we defeated last term?”
“No.”
She hadn’t thought so. It felt different. A different flavour of evil. Who knew there were so many varieties? “Oh.”
“What?”
“I have so many missed calls and messages. I had my phone off.”
“All from the same person.”
“Yes. Chris. He must be so worried. I have to call him. And we can get information.” She was already pressing the screen to call.
“Come inside. You’re chilled.”
Until Aeth said that, she hadn’t realised how cold she was. With difficulty, she clambered in the small door, waving goodbye to the other three statues as she did so, glad when they didn’t wave back. The call wasn’t answered, but almost straight away Chris’s icon was requesting a FaceTime.
“Kennedy! I’ve been trying to get you! Every chance I had to take a breather—how are you?”
Oh, you know, freezing cold, exhausted, aching all over—what you’d expect after being in another realm or time or space or whatever the fuck it was. The swear word made her remember Aeth’s language in that no place, and she wanted to giggle. Wait. Chris didn’t know about—
“You don’t look good,” he continued.
She bet she looked like she’d been to he—no place and back. “Thanks. I’m switching to voice only.” She didn’t want him asking where she was or what she was doing, if he saw the museum. “Oh, you mean after this morning. The whole being arrested thing?”
“You weren’t arrested!” he shouted. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“No. You’re right. I was detained. My bad.” Funny how it seemed the least of her problems. “Told you I was innocent.”
“There was no question about that.” He sounded tired too, and older than he normally did. And how could he say that, letting his feelings sway his professional judgment? She could be guilty. Yeahno. Not the time to be thinking that.
“I’m sorry, about your friend. Your fellow student,” he amended. “Even if you weren’t close, it’s still a horrendous thing to happen.”
“Yeah.” Kennedy thought again about Emma’s parents, her friends. “Do you know what happened? Can you tell me?” She switched to speakerphone, putting her finger to her lips to get Aeth to be quiet, and listen with her.
He sighed. “We don’t know much. It was outside the city centre. She was staying in one of those big houses out in Newtown Willbury.”
“Oh?” That wasn’t very far. Just across Port Meadow. Kennedy had imagined her in an actual farmhouse, all beams and barns, in an idyllic village deep in the countryside.
“And, well, drained of blood. But with no exit wounds. No wounds at all to account for it. It seems something sucked this girl dry without leaving a trace, and that’s how she died.”
That came so stark, so shocking on the heels of his previous remark that it jolted her to the core and she wanted to heave. She was in the tiny kitchen, she discovered, so sat.
“I don’t mean to upset you. But you asked. And though we’ll try and keep the details back, something will probably leak out.”
“Details.” She didn’t want to but had to know. “Is there any mention of a tattoo? Did you see the body?”
“I did. And no, not as far as I could see.”
Kennedy caught Aeth’s attention. He nodded to show he’d heard. Understood. This was significant. This was different. Kennedy laid the phone on the counter and wrapped her hands around the boiling kettle to warm them. “Thanks, Chris. For everything. Look, I’ve had a really long day.”
“Of course. Get some rest. I’ll call you tomorrow. And Kennedy? Don’t tha’ worry. Things’ll be okay.”
His warm northern accent was perhaps designed to be reassuring. She betted it worked on distraught people needing police assistance, or even on suspects. “Thanks.” She disconnected and stood, busying herself with searching out teabags. “Would you like a cup? I know you don’t need one. I bet you only eat or drink when I give it to you, right? Because—”
“Kennedy.”
“Don’t.” She held up a hand, her back still to him. “Don’t try and reason this. Logic it. Whatever. A girl was drained. Oh, not like before. Of blood this time. And, yeah, it’s what demons do. I know, because I was about to do that very thing. Okay, so it wasn’t here, on Earth, but still, I…” She gave in and faced him. “And we know there are demons in town. Are you connecting the dots here? Because I am.” Although she couldn’t, wouldn’t, believe any of them cou
ld be involved in this.
She took up her phone again. “I had a message from Tristano. I have to go and see him. Them. We need to get our stories straight, for one thing. They’re my alibi. Emma was killed two nights ago, when I was performing with them.”
“So, that’s fine?”
“They might be fudging the timeline a little, saying I was there later than I was. I need to know so we’re all on the same page. I’d better go and talk to them. I know you think I shouldn’t hang around with them, but I have promised to fill in for Isabella, for a while, at least, and can stick my nose into things, see if I can find out anything.”
“I think…” He looked as though speaking were painful, a struggle. And one he lost, the words impossible to voice. “That it’s something you have to see for yourself. If you can. I also think you should be careful,” he finished, his tone quiet, hushed.
“I promise. Hey, I might make a good undercover agent.” She couldn’t see her listing it on her CV. And talking of, damn, another day and evening gone on extra-curricular and not curricular work. This studying thing, not really happening, she lamented, throwing Aeth a small, tight goodbye smile.
I don’t like that I like you. I don’t like that we have to work together. I don’t like that I like you, but we have to work together.
It should be a pop song, she thought, kicking at loose gravel as she walked. Probably is. She even set the refrain to a beat as she hurried from Heylel and through Parks. And I don’t like that you liking me is buggering up your life. Heartfelt, but it didn’t scan. Never crack the Top 40. But the emotion behind is was very real. Aeth and her…she and Aeth… She’d called them a package deal, and he’d agreed. But that didn’t mean it was good for either of them, or that they had to like it.
Not like she liked being with Tristan. Her kin, she corrected herself. But things were sort of easier, among her own kind. And with Tristan. How wrong could that be? She stood at the gate for a few seconds before walking onto the fairground. That muffled, remote feeling was still there, even with the place half-ready and few, if any, fair-goers about.
