by Fiona Glass
'I'm sorry, that was a stupid thing to say. I guess I thought it might remind you of me. And that it might prove how much things have really changed. We couldn't have met in a caste bar when we were together before."
'Fair enough...’ Perhaps Josh still knew him after all. He took a breath and stayed where he was, forcing his inner tiger to lie quiet, for now. 'Still gives me the shudders, though.’
Josh peered sideways under his eyebrows, perhaps trying to gauge his mood. 'I know all about your fight against the castes, Madoc. I know how much you achieved, and I know you and that friend of yours took on the government alone at times, until more people were persuaded to take up the cause. I read all about it in the history books the minute I got back.’
Madoc winced at that, but summoned a grin from somewhere. 'At least you were interested enough to bother. There’s one thing I don’t get, though. You said you’d been back a couple of weeks? So why did it take you so long to find me? I’m not exactly unknown.’
Some of Josh’s self-confidence seeped away again. He didn’t reply immediately, but busied himself putting his jacket on. Only when he’d got it settled across his shoulders did he clear his throat. 'Well, there was the debriefing, of course. And it takes a while after any time-travel to get used to the things that have changed. But mostly...’ He paused again, staring out to sea. 'I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.’
'You have got to be kidding me now. You must know how I felt—feel—about you.’
'Well, yes, but...’
He paused so long that Madoc started walking, along the dockside and past that ridiculous statue of himself with one arm outstretched. The one he’d hoped Josh would never see. He walked a little faster, hoping to get himself between statue and man. Too late. Josh had seen anyway, and laughed.
'I saw that the minute I got back. How could I miss it? It’s right in line of sight of the ship’s unloading ramp.’
'It wasn’t my idea.’
'Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. It was a good sign, though. Proof that you’d done something, even if I wasn’t sure what.’
A seagull flapped down to sit on the statue’s hand. Madoc grinned, defensively. 'At least it serves some practical purpose, even if it is only a perch for the birds. You were saying?’
When Josh replied he seemed to aim the words at the statue instead. 'I’ve got something to confess. I lied to you, back then.’
Madoc held his breath so long he felt he might actually explode. 'Tell me you’re not going to say you never loved me?’
'No. Never that. But I told you we didn’t have castes where I was from. It wasn’t true. We did. Worse even than yours, because they’d had that much longer to become entrenched. A group of us were working undercover trying to bring them down. We identified times, people, that we could visit to set the ripples in motion. And I got you.’
'I should thump you for lying to me, you know.’ He should care about it, too. For some reason, though, it didn’t matter quite as much as he’d have thought it would. His hands stayed in the warmth of his pockets while he thought about what Josh was telling him. 'So it was really you who ended the caste-system, then?’
'Not me, I'm only a humble time-policer. Only you could do that. Only you had the anger to carry you through, and I'm proud to say my fierce wild tiger came up trumps. I just didn’t expect to fall in love with you as well. It hurt like a knife in the heart to leave you behind, but when I got back there was that statue and then I found the caste system had gone, and I knew you’d succeeded in spite of all the odds. It's a comfort to know the sacrifice was worthwhile.’
Madoc felt out of control, as though he'd been tossed into the ocean of time and was bobbing in someone else's wake. It was an odd sensation, but it wasn't unpleasant, because he had Josh to steer him to his true port. He walked along the dock to the exact spot where Josh had been hauled out of those dark and oily waters twenty five years ago, then stopped, turned, and reached for his lover's face. Here, in the darkness by the sea, in the wonderful caste-free future that he'd mostly only been able to dream about, he could kiss Josh and not be afraid. And he did.
Just visiting, Josh had always said. But this time, at last, it looked as though he was here to stay.
Author’s Note
The original, shorter version of this story was first published as The Visitor in the Queer Dimensions anthology from QueeredFiction, and again, briefly, in charity anthology Being Me (now out of print). I decided to re-write the story and expand it considerably to include more of Madoc and Josh’s journey through time. I hope you like the result!
The mention of the Great Plague and the Plague Graves was in the original story, first written back in the early 2000s—I promise it isn’t a blatant attempt to take advantage of the current pandemic. Call it good (or bad) timing on my part…
If you enjoyed this story you might like my other books, including gay vampire romance Echoes of Blood. Here’s a brief excerpt from the book:
Half way to the door he span back round. He'd never asked Nick for a phone number and had no way of getting in touch. It seemed a bit daft to just leave things to chance. He didn't bother with his mobile since the pockets in these old clothes were never big enough. But he could cadge a pen off the bar man and scribble a number on his hand. All he needed was to find Nick again and ask. At first there was no sign of the guy, but then he spotted the pallid hair over the other side of the room and realised he was talking to someone else.
It was tempting to feel a surge of jealousy, but that was ridiculous. Nick was hardly spoken for; they'd chatted and spent an hour together but that was all. He was free to talk to whoever he liked. If he'd found someone to spend the night with then good luck to him. And yet... something said it wasn't that. He couldn't quite see what. Could barely even see the figure that Nick was talking to, since the face was hidden in the shadow of the door to the loos. It was a bloke, he could see that much, and tall, and possibly dark. But that was all. There was a sense, though, that travelled the length of the club, in spite of the crowds between. A sense of power, of menace, almost. He wondered whether Nick was all right. But the guy had seemed capable of looking after himself, and even as Daniel watched, the two figures peeled away from the wall and headed at speed for the door. Just for a second he had a glimpse of the other man. Black but light-skinned, long hair tied back in a pony tail. And again, that sudden surge. Almost as though he was calling to Daniel, ordering him to come to him. At the door he paused, and looked back directly across the room to where Daniel stood. Their eyes met. Daniel gasped at the power of it and took a single step. And then someone else got in the way, and the spell broke, and the next time he looked Nick and his companion had gone.
You can find details of Echoes of Blood and all my other books and stories at my website: www.fiona-glass.com
Author Biography
When she isn’t being a pane in the glass, Fiona writes darkly humorous contemporary and paranormal fiction, often involving gay characters and almost always with a twist in the tail. As well as a couple of novels, her short stories have been published in anthologies and magazines including Mslexia, Paragraph Planet, and The Library of Rejected Beauty. Her paranormal romp Got Ghosts? is available from Fox Spirit Books, and her vampire romance Echoes of Blood has recently been published on Kindle and Kindle Unlimited.
Fiona lives in a slate cottage within stone-throwing distance (never a good idea in Glass houses…) of England’s largest lake, with her husband, several pot plants and a vast collection of books. She enjoys history, gardening and photography, and rarely has her nose far from the pages of a book—or a cup of tea.
www.fiona-glass.com
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