by J. K. Holt
How many times am I going to be manhandled today? Tess reached up and grasped at his head with her hands, managing to stick a finger directly into his eye. Then, a blur by her side and he was knocked off of her. Was that… Rosie? Yes!
Tess rolled, taking in the scene. Ashe, Emmie, Tulla, and Gowan had piled after one another from the bakery back entrance, makeshift weapons in hand. Where they lacked the skill, they compensated with sheer rage and manpower. The man whom Rosie had shoved off of Tess lay on the ground beside her, unmoving, and two more had taken his place. The others had begun to fend them off, and Tess scrambled, searching for more potential assassins.
Her heart lurched as she spotted three men grappling with Dray at the end of the alley, bidding to grab him as he kicked, punched, and fought his way forward like a caged wild animal attempting to break free of captivity. One of them kicked him, hard, in the gut, and he fell moaning, momentarily subdued.
A sense of déjà vu overtook her, and it grew stronger as she realized with terror that one of the men surrounding Dray was Loren. They’d been fools to trust that a snake like him would be comfortable leaving her fate to chance- in the time they’d spent circumventing the town, he’d brought a boat full of goons directly to shore and had set up here in wait. He’d prepared the ambush and they’d just walked right into it. And once again, he was withdrawing that strange metal device. He held it against Dray’s head just as Dray tried to lift himself from the ground, straining from the weight of those holding him.
She saw the moment of realization cross his face. He knew what was coming, and he was afraid. He tried to fight, but they’d pinned him now. He made a sound, just once, that broke Tess’s heart, and then his eyes found hers.
This couldn’t happen again. Tess screamed his name, scrambling to move fast enough to cover the space between them. She could hear nothing else, see nothing aside from his face, his silent plea. Kill me, he was begging her. Please, anything but this.
The buzzing sound started to grow, and she continued to move in slow motion. On both sides, Ashe and Rosie had begun to move past her, running to Dray’s aid. They wouldn’t make it in time.
The orb had begun to glow, and Loren was withdrawing the device already, stowing it away to rejoin the fight. He was shouting orders at the two men who now fended off Ashe, who’d begun screaming like a banshee for his brother. Then Loren stopped, dropping just as quickly, and Fish appeared in his silhouette as he fell, dripping with spite and pain and holding a small piece of brick in his hand.
They could win this fight. But they couldn’t save Dray. Dray, on the ground. Dray, fading.
Tess skidded to a stop in front of him, skinning her knees to ruin, and saw the beautiful orange tinge of aura beginning to recede, swirling around him and out of him. She screamed, and reached out, calling to him, calling to his consciousness, calling back the pieces of him. She grabbed his head with her hands on each side and pulled him towards her. She closed her eyes, and screamed into the void.
And she jumped into the else.
∞ ∞ ∞
It was not like her reunion with Maggie- no material beach formed beneath her, nothing cemented and crystallized. It was just her in the deep mist. Slow swirls of vapor danced around her like wisps, tinged the lightest suggestion of colors. It was not unpleasant here- a warming sensation surrounded her, seeping into the places that had moments before been cold and numb. It was like being held in the arms of another. Like coming home.
For a moment, she was content to stay here, lost in her own fugue. Troubles, worries- they all faded away here.
But there was that nagging sensation she’d forgotten something important. Something to do with this place, with the slight orange hue that she noticed had begun to swirl through the mist. What was it? She reached a hand out in the void, attempting to reach it. She felt a presence here… someone else, suspended from reality as well.
“Hello?” She called.
A whisper of an answer carried to her, though she could not identify the origin. She pulled together her strength and called out again. “Hello, anyone?”
Tess? It was a suggestion more than a voice, but she could feel it as clear as anything, and with it, she could isolate the source.
“Dray, I’m here! Where are you?”
She strained against the vacuum to hear him, but there was no reply. “Dray, don’t leave!”
She lunged for the nearest ribbon of mist, closing her eyes as her hands locked around it. It felt like a memory, hazy but coming into focus, like a camera she had to fiddle with to get the settings right. Two boys, playing on the docks. It swam out of focus again.
“Dray, I need you. Can you see this? Is this you?”
Back into focus. The two boys, chasing each other through the alleys. Gulls called at them as they tore through the market, and a warm breeze teased their hair. They were laughing wildly. Tess caught the hint of an emotion- protectiveness.
Me. Me and Ashe. So young. Dray whispered back at the memory.
“Good! Don’t forget Ashe. He’s your brother and he needs you. Right, let’s find another,” Tess said, releasing the strand and calling more to her. Where there had only been one, now several swam nearer, and she reached out again. “Stay with me, Dray.”
Just one boy in this memory, slightly fuzzy round the edges still. He was out on a small dingy with a tall, broad man, and they were throwing nets into the water. The sun was close to setting, and they watched together as the nets sank below the surface. The man settled a hand on the boy’s shoulder, pulling him into a rough side hug and tousling his hair. He pointed to something on the horizon, mumbled something, and the boy nodded, eyes squinting against the fierce light.
The unmistakable yen of bittersweet nostalgia. Dad.
“I know, Dray. Try to remember him. What did he look like? What did you two do together?”
More strands appeared, winking in and out of existence as if on a fading strand of twinkle lights. Tess grabbed ahold of what she could.
-A cold morning, a freezing rain fell as Dray helped his father carry home baskets of fish from the market.
-Dray’s father pulling his mother into a tight embrace, as Dray and Ashe feigned embarrassment and snuck cookies when they weren’t looking.
A dozen more snippets of his life came and went as Tess reached out and tickled at the memories, until she caught one that stung. She fought the urge to let it go, realizing its importance even as it burned.
-Dray’s father, scared and panicked, talking in clipped voices with Tulla as the boys spied from the stairs. The memory faded out too quickly, and Tess realized it was Dray’s doing.
It hurts.
“I know. Trust me, I do. But you need to remember it all. You can’t only pick out the good parts, or we’ll lose a part of you.” She knew this as surely as anything, though she had no idea how. “Let’s see it again. Please. We have to.”
The memory came reluctantly- Tess tugged at it, pulling it closer against Dray’s hesitance. His parents, fighting. Though the words were not decipherable, the feeling was clear. Something had happened, and Tulla was frightened by what her husband was saying. He kept grabbing her arm, and she’d jerk away, shaking her head as though to drown out his pleas.
“Was this when he told her he’d seen something at the Dimple that scared him? Was he trying to tell her what it was?” Tess asked.
Yes.
Tulla finally left, slamming the door behind her, and his father collapsed in a chair near the fire, head in hands. The tape ran out, and Tess grasped at another bruised strand of memory, determined.
-Dray’s father, staring but unseeing, as the doctor examined him. Tulla, stroking his hair, holding back tears, as Ashe and Dray loitered, confused and scared, in the background.
They looked at a half dozen more before Tess realized that the air had become thick with the angry red memories. They didn’t need to see more, and Dray was drowning in them.
“What about, Ashe? Let’
s look at him.”
Confusion echoed back at her.
“Ashe. Remember, your brother. Come on, let’s see him.” She coaxed Dray’s mind as a parent might encourage a small child until, finally, a vivid yellow strand appeared, then another. She picked at them, holding each one tenderly, as they relived scenes of two brothers fighting, competing, playing, growing, and loving each other fiercely.
When Tess was certain the memories of Ashe had grown stronger, she had him recall Tulla, then Emmie. Fish. Rosie and Russ. The memories that swirled began to grown stronger, so slight at first that Tess didn’t notice. Then, tiny lightning rods of connections rippled from one to the other, and soon, she didn’t need to prod or encourage. The memories followed, one leading to another. More recent ones often felt painful, while older ones were tinged in the comforting glow of childhood, of safety. She made him look at them all. Throughout, emotions ran parallel to the memories like ribbons- joy, excitement, contentment, comfort, guilt, grief, shame, acceptance.
“You’re coming back to yourself, Dray,” she breathed, excitement kindling within her stomach. “Show me more. Other people who are important to you. Think. There must be more.”
There were. Russ and Rosie’s parents, and a dozen faces or more of people she’d never met, townsfolk who had drifted through his life, at some point adding meaning to his existence, filling in the spaces of the life he’d lived so far.
Finally, Tess cast about, looking for anything she’d yet to pluck for a closer look. A single purple strand floated by, and she reached out tentatively. Something about it spoke to her, and once she closed her fingers around it she understood why.
It was her- angry, flushed, yelling at Dray. The first time they’d met. So surreal was the experience of viewing herself that she almost let go, but caught herself. She didn’t want Dray to forget her, even if she was to be subjected to his hostile feelings for her. She coaxed him for his feelings, and caught the edge of them- resentment and distrust. She knew as much- the feeling had certainly felt mutual when they’d first met.
They finished the memory, and Tess released it. A few more had appeared.
Somehow, reviewing these felt different, like a breach of trust. Viewing others through his memories was bad enough, but viewing herself…it seemed voyeuristic, and imposing.
She sought Dray’s permission. “Should I?” she asked, reaching for the next.
The reply was vulnerable but certain. Yes.
She selected just a few, not holding them too tight, trying to help Dray relive the memory but not intrude upon his deepest thoughts and feelings. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know them anyways.
They saw the meeting at the Muddy Gull, the cold evening at the dock following her discovery of Dray and his father, her lashing out at him following the blurring of Russ. The night he and Ashe took her into their confidence, and him looking over the mess in the Muddy Gull after she’d been taken. Interconnecting pieces[h1], each leading to the next.
There was just one more strand. She knew from the strength of the color what it must be, and she braced herself to relive it again.
It was this past evening, Dray and Fish onboard Della, rowing madly against the waves. Dray, climbing the outer hull of the ship, slipping, grasping, intent on his destination. Tess caught the feeling of blind determination, and fear. Then, he was stealing through the window, searching for his target, and his eyes focused upon a man laughing sardonically as he kneeled on the floor...and below him was Tess.
The blind rage that followed was hard for Tess to experience through his eyes, but she kept holding on. He needed to remember this, how he’d fought to uphold his vow to her. This was important. She watched him kill Bram, sinking the knife deep into his throat, felt his satisfaction of defeating the man, mixed with the revulsion of having taken a life.
Then, the jump, the swim, the boat. Him, looking down on her, rubbing her slowly back to life. He was anxious.
A ribbon of emotion, perhaps affection, had begun to appear, becoming stronger. Tess had at first assumed it was for Fish, who now ran through the memory, but now she paused and reconsidered. It pulsed most vibrantly throughout the memory when he looked at or spoke to her, and it ran along with the anxiety in a way that spoke to something else. What was it? In her curious state, she turned her attention to it, momentarily forgetting her attempts to allow Dray some semblance of privacy. She opened herself to the emotion.
It wasn’t affection.
It was fear, and irritation. It was wistfulness, and frustration. It was longing. It was trepidation, and confusion, and a thousand other emotions, intermingling with one another, competing for space in his heart. It was the beginning of something very strong.
Tess was so flummoxed by what she found that she thought she must be misinterpreting. Surely not. He’d hated her. Pushed her away. Took her into his confidence only to satisfy the anger of his brother. Confided in her only to be stung.
He couldn’t care for her. Not really.
Though it was hard to argue with the proof before her. Tess realized that her lips had begun to turn up ever so slightly at the edges. Then she thought of Dray- quiet, guarded- and felt how he must feel to have this all laid bare.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have seen that,” she said, releasing the emotion and reigning herself in.
Don’t be. A lengthy pause followed. Not if it’s the price for me to remember it.
They couldn’t linger much longer. The feeling of the void was changing, quickening- it felt temporary, like a place that would soon become unstuck in time. They shouldn’t still be here when that happened.
The memories were firing now, a million connections between them, lighting up the void with brilliance, like countless neurons sending messages to one another across the gap. They swirled, spindled, like a miniature galaxy, breathtaking in their complexity. Tess reached out and pulled the memories together, bunching them, holding them as one would a blanket. For safekeeping, and for security.
“It’s time to go now, Dray. Just come with me. It’s going to be fine.”
She felt his spirit take hold of her, and then she pulled herself free of the void.
Chapter Thirteen
The present moment snapped back into focus with a harsh crack. Tess was breathing, hard, hands still cradling either side of Dray’s face, forehead against his own. She pulled back quickly, and immediately became light-headed, dropping down hard on her butt, elbows resting on her knees.
She pulled her head up, alert to danger, but saw that nearly all the commotion had ended. Ashe was kicking one of their attackers in the gut, screaming as Fish tried to pull him back. Rosie and Emmie were dragging Loren, still unconscious, out of the street and into the back stoop of the bakery. Further down the alley, Gowan and Rosie restrained a man who offered very little resistance, while Tulla had dropped beside Tess, intently staring at Dray.
Tess directed her attention back to him as well, and laid a hand on his leg. His aura flickered, faint now, but did not extinguish. What was stopping it from returning? Tess gasped, quickly crawling behind him to where the small device lay on the ground where Loren had dropped it, ignoring her ribs as they screamed at her. She picked up the device- the small orb glowed orange, keeping a piece of Dray captive within it. She turned and smashed it, hard, upon the stone. The light dissipated from the object, flowing like a molten river to its rightful owner. Dray absorbed the light and for a moment the molten light surrounding him flashed, like a supernova, before returning to its normal glow.
Dray moaned, and opened his eyes. “Draker Reed,” his mother demanded, “look at me this instant.”
He did so, blinking once, twice, until his eyes focused and he looked at Tulla. “Mum,” he whispered, and his mother caught a sob in her throat.
“Thank the skies,” Tulla said. “I thought you were gone.” She pulled him to her chest, and he hugged her, arms enveloping his mother to give comfort as much as to receive it.
Tess whim
pered in relief. She turned around and saw that Ashe had collapsed against Fish, the both of them crying, neither aware of the miracle happening ten feet away.
“Ashe,” Tess called, her voice soft. “Ashe, look.”
He did then, his eyes alighting, unbelieving, upon Dray before a strangled laugh erupted from him and he ran to his brother’s side. “You big arse,” he said, dropping down as well to clasp Dray’s shoulder. “I thought you were blurred.”
“We all did,” Fish said, joining them.
Rosie appeared beside Fish as well, incredulous. She was the first of them to recover, glancing behind them and clearing her throat. “Hate to break up the happy reunion, but Gowan’s returning, and he isn’t alone. We need to have the same story, or we’re done. So, they attacked Fish, Dray, and Tess in the alley. They were going to rob them. We heard the commotion and came to help. Alright?”
Ashe and Fish began to compose themselves as well, shrugging off the candor of the previous moment and standing. “Right,” Fish said. “And Loren?”
“We took care of it,” Rosie replied. “Emmie’s watching him.”
At that, they jogged off to meet several villagers who’d appeared alongside Gowan and were currently assessing the situation. Tess, who was still crouching next to the broken blurring device, hastily moved to shove it into a pocket only to realize she was currently sitting on the street in her underwear. The blanket she’d been wrapped in had dropped in the street only a few feet from her. She grabbed it and stowed the device inside its folds as she wrapped it around herself and surveyed the scene.
Four of the five men who had attacked them lay in the street, while the fifth was now being held, hands behind his back, by Ashe and Fish. A man in a uniform was talking animatedly with Gowan as several townspeople gathered in a bottleneck at the end of the alley. Tess looked at the other fallen men and wondered how many of them were still alive. None of them were moving. She was nearing her maximum capacity for violence for the day.
