by VK Fox
“Because he fit a lot of the markers for the King Arthur link, right?” Dahl had talked about this before.
“Yes. I met him a few days after he came to the children’s center I like to visit. I knew we were right for each other, and I brought him home within a week. Over the years we worked through a lot. We were very happy together.” Ian paused for a few heartbeats and continued in a low, shaky tone, “Six months after he was successfully linked, he tried to kill himself again. I thought the link was bad. He’d stopped talking and eating. He was suffering from seizures and depression. He cut his arms all the time; not deeply, but the habit disturbed me and nothing we tried seemed to help. I wasn’t surprised when he attempted to kill himself, just so sad.” Ian choked off for a few seconds, “No one knew how to turn things around. After he recovered, I couldn’t believe Sana Baba wanted to send him into the field. I think it was a last-ditch effort—get him into the action and see if the change helped.
“The crazy thing was, it actually did. Our first mission we rescued a young man who had been kidnapped for use in magical forging.” Jane mentally added a significant number of questions to her growing list but didn’t interrupt. “Our mission ended with a good, clean win. Dahl grew a lot on that trip. He finished more capable, more selfless, and more confident. During our leave I took him to Canada to visit Emilee for the first time in years. They instantly reconnected, and it looked like he was solidly on a good path. I thought suicide was behind him.”
Ian was silent for a while, and Jane was silent with him. What could she say? Her personal experience didn’t give her any real knowledge about general mental health. Also, in her case, there were complicated, external circumstances her parents didn’t know about. She could talk for hours about the strain that had put on their relationship, but it didn’t apply here. Ian began again, “I’m not trying to lay the whole thing at Olive’s feet, but after they got together he started to slide. He moved in with her and slowly seemed less and less like himself. I thought he was growing up, reaching the next stage in life. It made me sad, but I didn’t feel I had the right to step in.
“Last fall… well, you know he played off cutting his wrists as part of a cover story. I didn’t even know how to address such a ridiculous lie. When we got home after the battle at Longwood Gardens, Sana Baba got more involved again and, I have to say, he is getting better. He’s moved home so I get to see him more. He’s developed a friendship with Everest Lovecraft that seems important to him, not like most of his friends who are just for movies and drinking. But as I said earlier, I don’t have all the pieces so there are things I don’t know. It makes me afraid for him.”
The sound of a toilet flushing and water running in the shower forced the troubling matter aside. Jane gave Ian one more squeeze and caught his eye. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to fix it, but I’m here for you, whatever that means.” She wasn’t sure if he’d remember his own words spoken so many months ago, but the grin spreading across his face made her think he did. She continued since time was short, “Listen, I don’t want Olive to know about me. Is there anything we can do to prevent her from realizing I have power?”
Ian glanced around the room, “We can get more lights on to help disguise your glow. She may have already seen it, though, so be ready if she asks about it. There are linked people who are not part of Sana Baba—she’ll think you’re one of those—but you’re going to have to either come up with a really good story or avoid talking about it if she asks for more details.” Ian paused for a few seconds, “I would go with dodging her questions right now. You and I should pretend that we are not romantically involved.”
“What? Why?” The idea of keeping a cool distance was incredibly unappealing.
“Because I haven’t registered the relationship.”
“Are you fucking kidding? You have to register your relationships?”
Ian ran a hand through his hair, “Um, yes. But I didn’t. You asked me not to.”
“So what happens if you get caught?”
Ian’s feisty grin flashed white teeth, “It depends what I get caught for.”
“Seriously. Worst-case scenario it for me.”
Ian’s humor faded, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” Jane braced herself, “I’m sure.”
Ian sighed, “Well, I didn’t report a person who was a possible threat to reality while starting a relationship with you and telling you all about them. Worst case scenario is treason.”
The adrenaline spike almost caused whiplash, “Shit, Ian, shit! Are you kidding? What’s the penalty for treason?” Ian was silent. Jane reasserted her white-knuckled grip on the situation, “Dahl too? Would they execute Dahl?”
“Oh, no. Dahl isn’t mentally well enough right now to be sentenced to death. Besides, as his father I planned to play up my sway over him. He’d get off.”
Jane was feeling weak at the knees, “Okay, okay… but that’s all the worst-case scenario, right? I mean, super unlikely, everything going against you, crazy conspiracy type situation, right? Right?”
Ian made a non-committal “Meh” noise.
“I can’t believe you kept this from me! Were you going to tell me any of this? “
“Jane, I didn’t keep it from you.” Ian squeezed her hand, “Sometimes life is a whirlwind. I didn’t make a big crazy decision, just lots of little decisions. Some of those decisions you knew about, and some we haven’t chatted about yet, but each one I wouldn’t change. Whatever comes I can handle, because I know I got here by doing right.” He beamed at her again. God, those dimples. “For right now, let’s stick to non-romantic friends and not give any details about your story. Sound good?”
Jane swallowed and nodded. She could do this. She could even do this without crying. Everything would be okay. Her eyes swept from the closed bathroom door back to Ian, “So as you may be executed soon, did I miss my chance to marry you?”
Ian kissed her forehead one more time, “Of course not. Let’s come back to that.” Then he stood, flipped on all the lights in the room, remade the bed, and sat himself innocently on the couch as Olive emerged from the bathroom.
Chapter Seven
Olive’s outfit was suddenly much more significant with Ian present: a neon green fishnet shirt over a hot pink push-up bra and cut-offs. The straps of her thong were visible above the back and sides of her low rider shorts and her belly button was supporting a cluster of rhinestones large enough to be used as a flail in a pinch.
Her eyes fell on Ian, and she cracked a rakish grin, “Hey big boy. How’d you get in here?” Pretending to be non-romantic friends was going to be a whole lot harder than Jane’s original estimation. She took a moment to fantasize about Ian shielding his eyes or turning away, because, of course, he didn’t.
Ian stood and politely smiled. “Hello, Olive. Good to see you feeling better. I’ll get you up to date in a moment.” He said it all with his eyes open, which was really galling, and Olive, still grinning, grabbed a complimentary toothbrush off the table and went back to the bathroom.
Jane ground her teeth. How stupid was she? Potential accusations of treason were on the table and she was getting jealous over some other woman being sexy. Of course, since yesterday she’d been stalked, cajoled into a fight, played caretaker for a drugged amnesiac, reunited with Ian, proposed to, reminded of her mortality, and had also discovered Ian’s possible treason issues. Maybe ten seconds of normal jealousy was okay.
Invoking her practiced poker face, Jane squared up, ready for convincing conversational action. Ian caught her eye and beckoned her silently to the couch. While Olive spat and gargled, Ian pulled Jane into a brief embrace and whispered, “You can do this, Jane. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Jane nodded, scrubbed her eyes and straightened. Everything was going to be okay. She was safe in her cave.
Olive came back out all minty fresh and scrutinized Ian then Jane and back to Ian, delight flickering across her features, “Fuck, Ian. You didn’t tel
l me you’d found your priestess! I can’t believe it!” Olive closed the distance with a few slightly wobbly strides and grasped Jane’s hands warmly, “I’m so happy to meet you! Tell me, how did you enchant our Ian?”
Jane panicked and glanced to Ian, jaw hanging slightly open. Olive pounced into the silence, “Alright, alright, so you’re being tight-lipped. Well, all the love in the world to you two, happy together at last.” Olive effortlessly spun Jane in a circle like a dancer and offered as a quiet aside, “Careful big boy, don’t break her in half or anything.” Jane shook her head; she must have misheard, right? Olive was still speaking, “It’s not a small thing for a civvie to jump in the ring with agents. I applaud your sense of adventure.”
Ian’s posture relaxed a fraction of an inch. Olive didn’t notice Jane’s glow. That was one thing going their way. Jane didn’t know the penalty for not registering a relationship, but it had to be a lot better than the penalty for treason. If word got back maybe he’d have to pay a fine or something. Not great, but not even measured with the same stick as execution.
Ian supplied some helpful, reasonable-sounding details, “Thank you for the congratulations, Olive.” He put a warm arm around Jane and gave her a gentle squeeze, “And thank you in advance for keeping a lid on this. She’s a novice with the Sisters of Perpetual Help and she hasn’t cut ties there yet. It might cause some bad blood if they knew about the timing of things. We’d rather keep this under wraps for now.”
Olive winked, “Discretion is my middle name.”
An intense unease settled in Jane’s stomach. Time to grab hold of the conversation, “Nice to meet you, Olive. So, what do you mean by ‘priestess?’”
“Ohhh, you don’t get the reference?” Olive ‘Discretion’ Baum glanced with big, liquid eyes to Ian, who was rubbing his forehead. She turned back to Jane, “I may have said too much.”
“Na-na-no… sounds like information I should have.” Jane tried to effect a ‘just us girls’ tone, “Please, lay it on me.”
“Well, you’ve read The Epic of Gilgamesh, I assume?”
Jane frowned, “No.”
“Oh, you sweet thing, pick up a copy as soon as possible. It’s a gripping story. Bromance. Adventure. Week-long erections.”
Jane had been opening her mouth for another question and instead accidentally gasped, inhaling some of her own spit.
“Are you alright?” Ian patted her back. After a few surprised coughs, Jane managed to nod in the affirmative. How had she not read her boyfriend’s book yet? Ian was deftly changing the subject while Jane thumped her chest. “Tell us about what’s going on with you.” He leaned forward, his voice warm and encouraging, “Jane said you seemed confused and worried when she found you. What’s happening?”
Olive shook her head, “I wish I could give you a clearer picture. I’m trying, but there’s this huge blank space. Dahl spent the night. He was crying about some shit,” Olive spread her hands, “and then nothing.”
Ian didn’t move or speak but anger sparked with startling clarity. No wonder she wasn’t his favorite person. Jane interjected, “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Dahl talking about Chaucer.” Olive’s voice was strong, but her lip trembled slightly.
“Did something upsetting happen?”
“Chaucer is always upsetting. So preachy.”
Jane chewed her lip and pressed on, “You look rattled—you don’t remember anything else?”
Olive took a shaky breath, “I know he used magic. I don’t remember what, but I have a feeling of resisting, so probably command. Something was pushing me. The next thing I remember I was naked in the woods. I didn’t even know how I got there—I must have flown. I knew I couldn’t go back to Sana Baba, so I got some essentials and caught a flight to Vegas. A lot of agents and support staff are coming out here anyways for the ceremony, so I figured maybe I could get someone alone and figure it out.”
Ian spoke, his tone careful, “When Jane found you Owen London and Alma Palahniuk were tailing you. Do you remember that?”
“Those names sound familiar, I guess.” Olive shrugged, “I don’t think I’ve met them, though.”
“How about Opal Anderson? Everest Lovecraft?”
Olive shook her head, “Lovecraft yes, Anderson no.”
“Do you remember the Sana Baba address in DC?”
Olive’s eyes were growing wider, “Maybe southwest, somewhere?”
“Do you have any agents under you right now?”
“I don’t think so. I hope not, because I left and didn’t ask anyone to take over...“ Olive trailed off, looking glassy.
Ian steepled his fingers, resting them against his mouth. Olive was a little pale and sat on the edge of the bed while Jane poured her some Gatorade. Ian broke the silence after a few minutes, “It seems as if you’ve lost quite a bit of memory about work. It also seems that Dahl used magic on you, which is a huge breach of boundaries. Olive, are you hurt? Do you need medical attention?”
Olive shook her head, “I have a few bruises but nothing serious.”
“Did Dahl hit you?” The heartbreak in Ian’s voice was almost covered by his business tone.
“I think so, but I don’t remember clearly.”
Ian nodded the tiniest amount, “We need to find out more about the last time you saw him so we can pick a path forward. I don’t suppose you had a security camera running?”
Olive cocked an eyebrow, “Security, no. I do have a bedroom camera, but I don’t usually have it turned on. I don’t think we were recording, but even if we got lucky the tape would be back in DC.”
Jane could hear Ian counting to ten in a whisper. He got it together at eight, “Dreaming is a good jumping-off point, if either of you ladies would like to volunteer.”
Olive bounced, “Damn, skippy. Anytime napping can work into the strategy I’m game.” She commenced making herself comfortable in the hotel bed again as Jane glanced at her watch. Sister Mary’s flight should be landing soon. She needed to make tracks for their rendezvous point at the house of a local golemancer, and Ian might not be invited. Better play it cool; he was working on things here anyway. Jane sidled over, “You got this? I have somewhere I’m supposed to be.”
Ian gazed at her for a few seconds, “You’ll be back soon? I’d like to take you to breakfast.”
Jane stood on tiptoes to kiss the corner of his mouth, “It may have to be lunch, but I’ll be done by noon.”
“Do you need help with anything?”
“Nope. I got it. Good luck here.”
Ian was beaming at her as he handed her a protein shake and kissed her forehead, “I have my pager on if you need me.”
Chapter Eight
Last December - Five Months Ago
Water Towers were obvious, showy, and one of Olive’s favorite locations to deface. Inhuman pin-up girls were her subject du jour. The more tentacles, wings, and antlers she could cram into a seductive pose, the better. Dahl sucked on a mouthful of M&Ms, clicking his tongue stud against candy coating as the freezing wind shifted, misting lime green paint over his black shirt and pants. Fuck. No point in moving now.
Liv side-eyed and picked up electric blue, shaking the spray can with a rattle and detailing intricately veined wings. Cicada wings. This girl must have laid buried in the ground for seventeen years. No light, no sound—sensory deprivation dreaming while the earth warmed and cooled in turn until she was filled with the urgent need to tunnel out. Dahl closed his eyes as electric blue mist swept across him. The candy coating on the roof of his mouth became jagged. When the gentle fog of paint tapered off, Dahl refocused on Liv’s art. Cicada girl’s hands should be dirty, fingernails broken from digging through clay-heavy soil. Her skin should be petal delicate from a life away from the wind and sun. Her eyes should be dazzled with nighttime city lights. Liv shook pink, scrutinizing the massive image.
Dahl swallowed melty chocolate and glanced at Liv’s paint-splattered hand, “What’s your plan?”
/>
“Bigger tits.”
Dahl nodded. Liv hovered and sprayed in wide arcs. Dahl added pink to his color collection. Getting it out of his hair would be too much effort. He’d just cut it.
You stun me with your grasp on conversation. Really, who could ask for more?
Dahl shoved more chocolate in his mouth and shook his head quickly, like he could dislodge the rogue voice in his mind. He drowned it out with the sound of his own words, “Do you want to go out to dinner tonight?”
Liv landed in front of him and pressed her hands onto his paint-splattered thigh, smearing the misted colors into a clear print. “The fancier the better, if you can convince them to waive the dress code.”
Dahl grinned, “I know a place. Let’s find a payphone, and then we can head over.”
Liv appraised her work, added a stylized signature mark, and started tossing spray cans over the side. Dahl raised an eyebrow.
A solid kick sent the maroon sailing, “If we’re going out, I can’t bring them with us, can I? Who are you calling?”
“Everest. To cancel.”
“Oh, it’s Everest now?”
Here we go.
Dahl’s eyebrows knit together, “What else would it be?”
“Just noticing.”
“What?” Helplessness crept in, a mental slip on an unseen patch of ice.
She knows.
“Noticing what?” Dahl’s voice picked up a level of volume.
“Fuck, boy, don’t freak out.” Olive grinned like the devil.
Dahl shook his head and forced calm, “Noticing what?”
“It used to be Lovecraft, and now it’s Everest,” Liv’s palm-up gesture swept from head to toe, highlighting Dahl’s rigid posture, “and this.” she pinched his burning cheek, smearing the paint, “And this. What, exactly, are you embarrassed about?”
