"So brother, where are you these days?" Her voice was silky down the phone line, but he wasn't impressed.
"How did you get this number?" A small, indulgent laugh, rattled about by poor reception, greeted his words.
"You know I like to keep tabs on my siblings, brother. So where are you?"
"No where you need to be."
"Aww. Still living with the rats then I take it. Scurrying about like them, playing at being ratty? Tell me, do you still go to all their funerals? Are you married now?" More laughter at his stony silence.
"That is precious! So you just hold onto her until she withers and dies, then toss her away and find a new one? You, the lord of your glass and iron tower? You amuse me so." Click.
Caedus didn't bother answering the mobile phone when it rang again. He wasn't married. But he had a good life, and he didn't want her ruining it. He had been happy with the way things were, with the Balance and Order. He had never wanted dominion over Man; he had stayed away from the conflict. But apparently being neutral was a punishable offence also. He found it ironic that of all his kin, he was the most successful. Sure, they had been powerful once, but they wouldn't move with the times, and they still had a terrible disdain for Man, which he considered unwarranted. They certainly were industrious creatures, men.
He turned to face the window, leaning against it slightly and looking out over the magnificent city view, skyscrapers splashing their neon ornaments across the darkness, light and shadow in constant battle. His clan's problem was that they couldn't admit that their supposed inferiors had bested them.
We're a dead race. If only we would die. His hand strayed almost unconsciously to brush his crow Marking. Nothing he could do would hide it, and trying to cut off his hand was both pointless and painful. Besides, it leant him an air of mystery that he used to his advantage; that and it complimented his usual dark Armani suit and black tie. It was a combination calculated to make him look dangerous, and it worked. He was comfortable, he was successful, and he was powerful. Good men and bad tried to court his favour, and he ruled his corporate kingdom with an iron fist. Ironic, indeed.
But the sea of his years ebbed and rose, and he wore a skin of time to hide his secret - that he had no time, and all the time in the world. He lived a thousand lives, and he died a thousand deaths, though all of them infinitesimal under the weight of each waking moment. Endlessly he built his empires, and endlessly they were destroyed. But what else was there to do? A shiver ran through his body as he thought of the void, that blissful dark place where nothingness ruled. No, there would be none of that.
He knew what some of his siblings did to ease their burden, and if his sister thought his actions were worthy of derision, then she obviously hadn't spoken to Niveus. At least he didn't debase himself by joining with men for money. Though he suspected why she really did it, which was somehow worse. She wasn't the only one who used humans to reach the void; but she was the only Firstborn to do so. Still, it called to him, that moment of clarity... The weight of his years bore down on him, filling him with weariness. He fought it off with some effort, then straightened away from the glass and sat back down at his desk. He would deny it. He would live, even if it meant he must live forever.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Once I was a King
He rode the bus, glaring out the dirty window at the streets blurring past. This? This is what it had come to? Years washed past as the bus droned on, his seat bouncing beneath him at the slightest bump in the road. Countless years, fading at the edges of memory, reaching back beyond cars and buses and skyscrapers and walls and wheels and men, into the deep dark forests that used to march across every corner of the earth. He pulled his jacket tighter about him. Yes, he had ruled once. Once, but that was long ago. Things were different.
He fingered absently at the crow swooping down his hand, one wing brushing the knuckle of his thumb, the other reaching toward his middle finger. It was green-blue with age now, though the skin that bore it was still a smooth, golden brown. Once, he had been the King of Noontime. Now, he rode the bus. Now, he stalked the night, trapped in an endless bitter swirl of his own regrets. He understood it was his fault; he understood that. He should have kept a better eye on the rise of Man, but it was an insidious thing, and already his anger was dimming in a wave of helplessness.
"All things have their time in the sun," he murmured. At least the rule of men was short; they buzzed like flies for a few moments and then died noisily, to be swept away by the rushing tide of history. That was the way of Man, and that was the way of the world. Time stopped for no-one. But he and his bretheren existed out of the flow of time; it was their reward and their ultimate punishment. Accumulating years, faithful keepers of History, bearing eternal witness to each spin of that wretched blue ball. The bus came to a shuddering halt and wheezed black smoke into the air.
"End of service," came the gruff, disinterested voice of the driver from the front.
The city streets were grey and blue in the twilight as he stepped off, and Solaris felt the sea of his years accutely. He took long, loping strides towards the nearest bar. His hatred had burned and then simmered down into a smoulder again, leaving him hollow. He would have oblivion that night, one way or another. A small death, all too brief, but enough to douse the flame, for a little while at least. He sat down at the bar.
"Whiskey please. Neat." One way or another.
He fingered absently at the crow swooping down his hand, one wing brushing the knuckle of his thumb, the other reaching toward his middle finger. It was green-blue with age now, though the skin that bore it was still a smooth, golden brown. Once, he had been the King of Noontime. Now, he rode the bus. Now, he stalked the night, trapped in an endless bitter swirl of his own regrets. He understood it was his fault; he understood that. He should have kept a better eye on the rise of Man, but it was an insidious thing, and already his anger was dimming in a wave of helplessness.
"All things have their time in the sun," he murmured. At least the rule of men was short; they buzzed like flies for a few moments and then died noisily, to be swept away by the rushing tide of history. That was the way of Man, and that was the way of the world. Time stopped for no-one. But he and his bretheren existed out of the flow of time; it was their reward and their ultimate punishment. Accumulating years, faithful keepers of History, bearing eternal witness to each spin of that wretched blue ball. The bus came to a shuddering halt and wheezed black smoke into the air.
"End of service," came the gruff, disinterested voice of the driver from the front.
The city streets were grey and blue in the twilight as he stepped off, and Solaris felt the sea of his years accutely. He took long, loping strides towards the nearest bar. His hatred had burned and then simmered down into a smoulder again, leaving him hollow. He would have oblivion that night, one way or another. A small death, all too brief, but enough to douse the flame, for a little while at least. He sat down at the bar.
"Whiskey please. Neat." One way or another.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Moonways pt2
To Lily's surprise, Amber didn't say much at all, let alone anything strange. She nodded to Lily, then leaned down and asked Mona about her doll, and her dress, and told her she looked lovely. For the way that Mona smiled, Lily felt a rush of appreciation for the other girl's presence. Her hair still looked like it needed a decent combing, and Lily had to resist the urge to pluck a small twig from the back, but she had a way with Mona, and that made her alright. Maybe.
Amber led them to a small wood at the back of the winding streets crowded with cheap housing. Lily didn't think much of the little reserve; she heard older boys went there and drank from sacks of two dollar wine, looking for trouble. But that day, there was no one else, or so it seemed. Amber began pointing out types of trees, and plants, and even flowers, as though it were some carefully tended garden and not a grubby little reserve between ghettos. Carefully moving aside a clump of ivy, she revealed a delicate collection of tiny blue flowers, each nodding their fluted heads as though dozing.
"Bluebells!" Lily exclaimed, impressed despite herself. Amber grinned, then held up a finger to her lips.
"Shh... they're sleeping." Gesturing sharply, she tiptoed away, around the base of a taller tree, and pulled back a screen of creepers. Behind the leafy curtains lay a small grotto, soft with moss, dappled and dewy in its shaded corners, hidden from the world by scrub and trees and held in the arms of the tall oak protecting it.
"This is my secret place," Amber whispered, as Mona looked about in awe. Even Lily wondered at the change. Then she noticed the small pile nestled away to one side. It was a collection of glass shards, and discarded, brassy earrings, and bottlecaps, and dried flowers and chains of leaves. Amber, noticing Lily's gaze, shuffled a little closer. "Gifts for the Gate Man... and a compass for the Moon Ways."
Lily was confused. "Where's the compass?" Amber merely nodded, then picked out an earring, three strings of daisies and a single, carefully dried bluebell. With deft movements she arranged it all, adding little knots here and there, until the earring was swinging between a spidery criss cross of threads. The bluebell helmed the strange contraption, and daisies ringed its edges. To Lily's eyes, it was simply a mess. But it had a strange beauty, and as Lily watched it, she thought the light caught it just so, sending shivering sparkles down each fine strand, like beads of water... Blinking, she looked away. "That's not a compass," she mumbled. But Amber's eyes had a strange glow to them. "You saw, didn't you! I knew you would. Tell me which way they went!" Her expression had become oddly hungry. Lily shook her head in confusion.
"I didn't... I don't.... well... sort of this way I guess?" She gestured down and out. Amber watched, her golden brown eyes hungry.
"Yes, yes I see it... I understand. Thank you." The tension of the moment was broken by Mona tugging on Amber's skirt.
"Show me boo-bells?" The hunger vanished from Amber's eyes and with a quick glance at Lily, her smile was back in place for the little girl as she took her to the other side of the grotto where all sorts of wildflowers were growing. Lily's head felt strange. It had been a surreal exchange, and her skin prickled from the warm stillness. But the moment passed, and they spent a pleasant afternoon wading in the creek, looking for turtles and little fish as well as Amber's "diamonds".
Day after day they slipped out early, away from their snoring mother and the cloying, musty heat of their broken down house, to go join Amber in the wood, or on the banks of the creek. After that exchange in the grotto, Amber mostly talked about fairly normal things with Lily, though questions about where she lived or went to school slid off her smile like drops of water. She would interject sometimes to offer a fact about some animal or plant, and sometimes she would tell Mona fairytales.
They weren't the fairytales Lily was used to; they spoke of dark halls and secret places, of the immortal King of Noontime and the eternal Queen of Midnight. How to talk with fairies, how to pass their doorways and paths unhindered. How to trick them with gifts and how to keep names secret. Mona always listened, wide eyed and open mouthed, but Lily frowned and became thoughtful. One evening, Lily and Mona's mother had gone out. She left no indication of where she was going; she just wasn't there when Lily brought Mona home. The rusty Camaro was not parked out the front, and the house was dark. Lily sighed with relief.
They ate toast with jam for dinner and Lily was sitting on the back veranda, fanning her face lazily in the dense, sticky air, when a pale face suddenly appeared in the darkness. It was Amber. Lily started; she had never come around after dark before. She was bathed in the blue light of the bright full moon, and her hair shone silver in the washed out twilight. Lily stood.
"What are you doing here?"
"Tonight's the night, Lily. Will you help me?" Mona, hearing Amber's voice, tottered out onto the veranda and then, like usual, dashed down the back stairs and through the yard. This time was different though. Lily leapt up, straining with sudden fear, and took bounding leaps to catch up but it was too late. Amber reached over and snatched up Mona, who, not understanding the danger, wrapped her arms around the older girl's neck happily.
Amber was off then, still fast and agile like a deer. Lily was long legged but for some reason, she simply couldn't keep up with the shorter girl. Mona wasn't crying. She just looked dreamy as Amber murmured into her ear. Lily ran faster, screaming, but her voice was hoarse suddenly, disobeying her desperation. The park was cast in stark whites and blues and blacks by the moonlight, but there seemed to be a glow developing around Amber as her strides ate up the grass.
Lily's head spun as she realised what was happening. Soon, each step Amber took splashed moonlight before her, and a glimmering path was forming. With strength she didn't know she had, Lily surged ahead, just as the darkness seemed to gather in an archway above the grass. Amber slowed down, and a shining figure stepped from the arch. The Gate Man! Finally, Lily caught up, chest burning and limbs trembling with fear and adrenaline. Amber was shining now, her hair floating in a wreath about her head.
She turned to Lily, as though in a dream, and her eyes were wild. "I'm sorry, Lily," she said dreamily, and sounded almost like she meant it. "But the Gate Man needs to be paid."
"What about your diamonds and jewels?" Lily tried to shout. Amber shrugged.
"She is a jewel. Precious, shining, beautiful. The Gate Man must be paid. I need to go home." Lily's limbs were getting heavy as the Gate Man stepped forward. Still she struggled, crying out her sister's name until she thought she might burst. Suddenly, Amber glared.
"Stop that!"
Lily found another tiny shred of strength, then another. A sweat was breaking out on the other girl's pale skin. Lily concentrated on her sister, on her fierce love, until it filled her up and spilled out between them. Amber stumbled, just as the Gate Man reached forward, and Lily stepped forward in that half a moment, snatching Mona's arm and hefting her bodily away. Now it was Amber's turn to scream, as the shining figure grew blindingly bright, his voice beautiful and deadly.
"You know the price must be paid for calling me, Ysoldir." Amber screamed and screamed as heat radiated from them both. Lily clutched Mona to her, screwing her eyes shut, wishing she could close her ears against the terrible sounds. But then suddenly darkness rushed back across her eyelids and she opened them cautiously, squinting in the gloom.
There was nothing of Amber left, and the Moon Way was fading into nothing. Lily stepped out of the way swiftly as it snaked away into the sky. She realised Mona was still sleeping, her tangled curls brushing over her cheek, and held her close, kissing her forehead. There would be no more secret bluebells and strange tales, but Lily didn't think she'd miss them.
Amber led them to a small wood at the back of the winding streets crowded with cheap housing. Lily didn't think much of the little reserve; she heard older boys went there and drank from sacks of two dollar wine, looking for trouble. But that day, there was no one else, or so it seemed. Amber began pointing out types of trees, and plants, and even flowers, as though it were some carefully tended garden and not a grubby little reserve between ghettos. Carefully moving aside a clump of ivy, she revealed a delicate collection of tiny blue flowers, each nodding their fluted heads as though dozing.
"Bluebells!" Lily exclaimed, impressed despite herself. Amber grinned, then held up a finger to her lips.
"Shh... they're sleeping." Gesturing sharply, she tiptoed away, around the base of a taller tree, and pulled back a screen of creepers. Behind the leafy curtains lay a small grotto, soft with moss, dappled and dewy in its shaded corners, hidden from the world by scrub and trees and held in the arms of the tall oak protecting it.
"This is my secret place," Amber whispered, as Mona looked about in awe. Even Lily wondered at the change. Then she noticed the small pile nestled away to one side. It was a collection of glass shards, and discarded, brassy earrings, and bottlecaps, and dried flowers and chains of leaves. Amber, noticing Lily's gaze, shuffled a little closer. "Gifts for the Gate Man... and a compass for the Moon Ways."
Lily was confused. "Where's the compass?" Amber merely nodded, then picked out an earring, three strings of daisies and a single, carefully dried bluebell. With deft movements she arranged it all, adding little knots here and there, until the earring was swinging between a spidery criss cross of threads. The bluebell helmed the strange contraption, and daisies ringed its edges. To Lily's eyes, it was simply a mess. But it had a strange beauty, and as Lily watched it, she thought the light caught it just so, sending shivering sparkles down each fine strand, like beads of water... Blinking, she looked away. "That's not a compass," she mumbled. But Amber's eyes had a strange glow to them. "You saw, didn't you! I knew you would. Tell me which way they went!" Her expression had become oddly hungry. Lily shook her head in confusion.
"I didn't... I don't.... well... sort of this way I guess?" She gestured down and out. Amber watched, her golden brown eyes hungry.
"Yes, yes I see it... I understand. Thank you." The tension of the moment was broken by Mona tugging on Amber's skirt.
"Show me boo-bells?" The hunger vanished from Amber's eyes and with a quick glance at Lily, her smile was back in place for the little girl as she took her to the other side of the grotto where all sorts of wildflowers were growing. Lily's head felt strange. It had been a surreal exchange, and her skin prickled from the warm stillness. But the moment passed, and they spent a pleasant afternoon wading in the creek, looking for turtles and little fish as well as Amber's "diamonds".
Day after day they slipped out early, away from their snoring mother and the cloying, musty heat of their broken down house, to go join Amber in the wood, or on the banks of the creek. After that exchange in the grotto, Amber mostly talked about fairly normal things with Lily, though questions about where she lived or went to school slid off her smile like drops of water. She would interject sometimes to offer a fact about some animal or plant, and sometimes she would tell Mona fairytales.
They weren't the fairytales Lily was used to; they spoke of dark halls and secret places, of the immortal King of Noontime and the eternal Queen of Midnight. How to talk with fairies, how to pass their doorways and paths unhindered. How to trick them with gifts and how to keep names secret. Mona always listened, wide eyed and open mouthed, but Lily frowned and became thoughtful. One evening, Lily and Mona's mother had gone out. She left no indication of where she was going; she just wasn't there when Lily brought Mona home. The rusty Camaro was not parked out the front, and the house was dark. Lily sighed with relief.
They ate toast with jam for dinner and Lily was sitting on the back veranda, fanning her face lazily in the dense, sticky air, when a pale face suddenly appeared in the darkness. It was Amber. Lily started; she had never come around after dark before. She was bathed in the blue light of the bright full moon, and her hair shone silver in the washed out twilight. Lily stood.
"What are you doing here?"
"Tonight's the night, Lily. Will you help me?" Mona, hearing Amber's voice, tottered out onto the veranda and then, like usual, dashed down the back stairs and through the yard. This time was different though. Lily leapt up, straining with sudden fear, and took bounding leaps to catch up but it was too late. Amber reached over and snatched up Mona, who, not understanding the danger, wrapped her arms around the older girl's neck happily.
Amber was off then, still fast and agile like a deer. Lily was long legged but for some reason, she simply couldn't keep up with the shorter girl. Mona wasn't crying. She just looked dreamy as Amber murmured into her ear. Lily ran faster, screaming, but her voice was hoarse suddenly, disobeying her desperation. The park was cast in stark whites and blues and blacks by the moonlight, but there seemed to be a glow developing around Amber as her strides ate up the grass.
Lily's head spun as she realised what was happening. Soon, each step Amber took splashed moonlight before her, and a glimmering path was forming. With strength she didn't know she had, Lily surged ahead, just as the darkness seemed to gather in an archway above the grass. Amber slowed down, and a shining figure stepped from the arch. The Gate Man! Finally, Lily caught up, chest burning and limbs trembling with fear and adrenaline. Amber was shining now, her hair floating in a wreath about her head.
She turned to Lily, as though in a dream, and her eyes were wild. "I'm sorry, Lily," she said dreamily, and sounded almost like she meant it. "But the Gate Man needs to be paid."
"What about your diamonds and jewels?" Lily tried to shout. Amber shrugged.
"She is a jewel. Precious, shining, beautiful. The Gate Man must be paid. I need to go home." Lily's limbs were getting heavy as the Gate Man stepped forward. Still she struggled, crying out her sister's name until she thought she might burst. Suddenly, Amber glared.
"Stop that!"
Lily found another tiny shred of strength, then another. A sweat was breaking out on the other girl's pale skin. Lily concentrated on her sister, on her fierce love, until it filled her up and spilled out between them. Amber stumbled, just as the Gate Man reached forward, and Lily stepped forward in that half a moment, snatching Mona's arm and hefting her bodily away. Now it was Amber's turn to scream, as the shining figure grew blindingly bright, his voice beautiful and deadly.
"You know the price must be paid for calling me, Ysoldir." Amber screamed and screamed as heat radiated from them both. Lily clutched Mona to her, screwing her eyes shut, wishing she could close her ears against the terrible sounds. But then suddenly darkness rushed back across her eyelids and she opened them cautiously, squinting in the gloom.
There was nothing of Amber left, and the Moon Way was fading into nothing. Lily stepped out of the way swiftly as it snaked away into the sky. She realised Mona was still sleeping, her tangled curls brushing over her cheek, and held her close, kissing her forehead. There would be no more secret bluebells and strange tales, but Lily didn't think she'd miss them.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Moonways pt 1
"Mona, Mona! Wait! Damn." The younger girl had taken off beyond hearing, though she was still visible, her pink dress bobbing wildly as she skipped down the path. Lily had asked her to stay nearby, but as soon as they got beyond the front fence she was off like a tiny, chubby brunette rocket. There was a little creek rambling through the park and Lily didn't want Mona going too close.
But Mona had stopped and Lily wondered at hearing Mona's voice. Who was she talking to? Suddenly a head poked up from the edge of the creek, with a shock of messy blonde hair and a curious, dreamy face. Lily hurried over, worry creasing across her forehead. The strange girl waved and grinned, holding up something shiny for Mona to see.
"It's a diamond," she declared, then held it out in the palm of her hand. Lily could see it was a shard of glass, worn smooth by the wash of the water. Nonetheless, Mona gasped and her eyes widened in delight. The girl winked at Lily then passed her other hand over the glass, making it vanish. Mona let out a squeal of delight, but her expression was worried.
"Dai-mun come back?" Lily noticed that the other girl's eyes were a light brown, almost golden. They danced with amusement.
"But you took it!" Mona shook her head.
"Never did!"
"Well, what is it doing in your pocket then?" Out came the shard of glass from the pocket in Mona's pinafore, causing another squeal and excited clapping.
The girl straightened up, dusting off her rather grubby knees, and Lily realised they were probably about the same age. She was thin and somewhat lanky, still growing into her arms and legs. She held out a hand for Lily to shake. "Amber." Lily took the hand somewhat hesitantly, and murmured her own name.
"What were you doing in the creek anyway?" Her voice was faintly reproachful, eyes straying to the dirt and mud clinging to Amber's bare knees and feet. Her summer dress wasn't faring much better; it had long thin green and brown stains from treebark. Climbing trees? At their age? Honestly. If Amber noticed Lily's haughty expression, she didn't show it.
"Looking for diamonds of course! And rubies, and sapphires, and emeralds and..." She stopped short, seeing Lily's frown, and met it with a wide, toothy white smile. "I need to pay the Gate Man you see. And he only takes jewels." She sighed expressively.
"But I just gave my only diamond to the fair princess Mona here, because such a pretty girl deserves all the diamonds in the world." Mona blushed and tugged on her dress happily.
"Are you a fairy?" For a moment, Amber's smile faded. Then she grinned even wider.
"Of course I am. I'm looking for the Moonways. They'll take me back to my home. Will you help me find them?"
"Come on Mona, you know Mama only said five minutes. Dinner'll be ready soon." Lily interrupted the strange girl's tales quickly. Mona looked mutinous, but met with Lily's stony expression she wilted and held out a chubby hand.
"It was nice to meet you," Lily said stiffly, and Amber nodded, looking suddenly thoughtful.
"Yes, it's always nice to meet me. I'll see you tomorrow." Affronted, Lily was about to reply but the girl had already taken off, bouncing lightly like a deer across the shallow creek and up the other side. Snorting her derision, Lily took Mona home.
"Where have you been?" The voice was harsh, cold.
"Just down by the creek, Mama... just for a moment. Mona wanted to." Lily resisted the urge to shrink down from the doorway to the kitchen where her mother sprawled in her chair, puffing on a hand rolled cigarette, her fingers drumming twitchy tunes on the battered table.
"You take orders from a three year old?" Her mother's sneer smelled of cheap rum from that close, and Lily quivered, but didn't respond.
After another moment of hard scrutiny, she was released. Mona had shuffled back, hiding slightly behind Lily's dress. In the tense silence, Lily served out the tinned spaggheti and sat Mona down on a chair. Neither girl dared to interrupt their mother's reverie; it would probably only earn a string of curses.
Later, when Lily was tucking Mona in, she smiled as she spotted the "diamond". In the near darkness of the bedroom, it looked much shinier and clearer, almost sparkling. Blinking, Lily looked again. It was just a shard of glass, nothing else.
Sleep was late coming and fitful in the stifling summer heat, and in the morning, Lily could remember the edges of very strange dreams about rivers made of moonlight. She shrugged them off with a frown, then headed outside. Mona had dressed herself and was sitting quietly on the back veranda, playing princess with her grubby doll. That was enough to get a smile out of Lily, until something caught her eye. It was Amber, leaning on the low back fence, smiling that mischevious smile.
It was a choice between waiting for Mama to wake up with a sore head and ferocious temper, or slip out before she even noticed.Mona made up both their minds by seeing Amber and leaping up, running down the stairs and out onto the footpath. Lily followed, reluctantly, wondering what strange things Amber would say this time.
But Mona had stopped and Lily wondered at hearing Mona's voice. Who was she talking to? Suddenly a head poked up from the edge of the creek, with a shock of messy blonde hair and a curious, dreamy face. Lily hurried over, worry creasing across her forehead. The strange girl waved and grinned, holding up something shiny for Mona to see.
"It's a diamond," she declared, then held it out in the palm of her hand. Lily could see it was a shard of glass, worn smooth by the wash of the water. Nonetheless, Mona gasped and her eyes widened in delight. The girl winked at Lily then passed her other hand over the glass, making it vanish. Mona let out a squeal of delight, but her expression was worried.
"Dai-mun come back?" Lily noticed that the other girl's eyes were a light brown, almost golden. They danced with amusement.
"But you took it!" Mona shook her head.
"Never did!"
"Well, what is it doing in your pocket then?" Out came the shard of glass from the pocket in Mona's pinafore, causing another squeal and excited clapping.
The girl straightened up, dusting off her rather grubby knees, and Lily realised they were probably about the same age. She was thin and somewhat lanky, still growing into her arms and legs. She held out a hand for Lily to shake. "Amber." Lily took the hand somewhat hesitantly, and murmured her own name.
"What were you doing in the creek anyway?" Her voice was faintly reproachful, eyes straying to the dirt and mud clinging to Amber's bare knees and feet. Her summer dress wasn't faring much better; it had long thin green and brown stains from treebark. Climbing trees? At their age? Honestly. If Amber noticed Lily's haughty expression, she didn't show it.
"Looking for diamonds of course! And rubies, and sapphires, and emeralds and..." She stopped short, seeing Lily's frown, and met it with a wide, toothy white smile. "I need to pay the Gate Man you see. And he only takes jewels." She sighed expressively.
"But I just gave my only diamond to the fair princess Mona here, because such a pretty girl deserves all the diamonds in the world." Mona blushed and tugged on her dress happily.
"Are you a fairy?" For a moment, Amber's smile faded. Then she grinned even wider.
"Of course I am. I'm looking for the Moonways. They'll take me back to my home. Will you help me find them?"
"Come on Mona, you know Mama only said five minutes. Dinner'll be ready soon." Lily interrupted the strange girl's tales quickly. Mona looked mutinous, but met with Lily's stony expression she wilted and held out a chubby hand.
"It was nice to meet you," Lily said stiffly, and Amber nodded, looking suddenly thoughtful.
"Yes, it's always nice to meet me. I'll see you tomorrow." Affronted, Lily was about to reply but the girl had already taken off, bouncing lightly like a deer across the shallow creek and up the other side. Snorting her derision, Lily took Mona home.
"Where have you been?" The voice was harsh, cold.
"Just down by the creek, Mama... just for a moment. Mona wanted to." Lily resisted the urge to shrink down from the doorway to the kitchen where her mother sprawled in her chair, puffing on a hand rolled cigarette, her fingers drumming twitchy tunes on the battered table.
"You take orders from a three year old?" Her mother's sneer smelled of cheap rum from that close, and Lily quivered, but didn't respond.
After another moment of hard scrutiny, she was released. Mona had shuffled back, hiding slightly behind Lily's dress. In the tense silence, Lily served out the tinned spaggheti and sat Mona down on a chair. Neither girl dared to interrupt their mother's reverie; it would probably only earn a string of curses.
Later, when Lily was tucking Mona in, she smiled as she spotted the "diamond". In the near darkness of the bedroom, it looked much shinier and clearer, almost sparkling. Blinking, Lily looked again. It was just a shard of glass, nothing else.
Sleep was late coming and fitful in the stifling summer heat, and in the morning, Lily could remember the edges of very strange dreams about rivers made of moonlight. She shrugged them off with a frown, then headed outside. Mona had dressed herself and was sitting quietly on the back veranda, playing princess with her grubby doll. That was enough to get a smile out of Lily, until something caught her eye. It was Amber, leaning on the low back fence, smiling that mischevious smile.
It was a choice between waiting for Mama to wake up with a sore head and ferocious temper, or slip out before she even noticed.Mona made up both their minds by seeing Amber and leaping up, running down the stairs and out onto the footpath. Lily followed, reluctantly, wondering what strange things Amber would say this time.
Business is Business
It was his nervousness that gave him away, really. Of course I had seen a picture - there is a very careful screening process - but really, who can trust a camera? They lie all the time. Nonetheless, there he was, probably a bit younger than he had said, and definitely better looking than the photo had suggested; not that physical attributes are terribly relevant to me. He was sitting a little too far forward on his chair, one foot bouncing absently in a jitter. His eyes glanced to the door every few moments, and then he spotted me. We're hard to miss, if you know what to look for. But tattoos these days are so prevalent that it could mean anything, and most people don't pay attention to where each foot lands until after they've taken a step, so why would they notice a crow on the hand of certain strangers? He was looking for it though. He got up, and came forward, meeting my nod with a nervous one of his own. He held out his hand to shake mine and my smile widened, just a little, as I declined with a small gesture. With a start he realised his mistake and withdrew, stuffing his hands into his pockets instead.
"So... what do we do from here?" It was a big enough bar that his words wafted up into the general miasma of conversation and lounge music. I am short, but I like to think that I have good projection to make up for it. My voice was light, but cold. Business is business after all.
"We go somewhere quieter. It won't work in anything resembling this noise."
Without waiting to see if he was following, I sauntered out and down the street. He hurried to catch up, and I could see him sneaking looks at me out of the corner of my eye. I let the silence stretch, thick with the boy's unspoken questions. Let him wonder, I didn't care. We reached the building and I led him up the darkened staircase to a small, threadbare room with two seats inside; one a chaise, one a plain wooden stool. The paint flaked its age onto the floor, and dust startled into flight from our entrance but settled lazily again in the stillness.
"Lay down," I instructed. He obeyed, though warily; we were alone, and I can't deny that my people have a reputation. Light filtered through a single window, casting stark shapes across his face, smoothing away imperfections until he might have been made of marble. I observed dispassionately that he had brown eyes. Did it matter? No. Not really. I took his proffered money and pocketed it. Taking a seat on the stool, I gently reached out and placed my hands on either side of his head. The effect was instantaneous.
We plunged, spiralling, into deep, cold water. For a moment we struggled, fighting the urge to swim, chest burning until we could take it no more! Then with a gasp, water filled us, flowing through our lungs, into our limbs and out our fingers, washing away panic with cool intensity. He was a but a babe in years, and the drops of his life washed away in moments in the sea of my consciousness.
It was a callous thing, this sharing. There is nothing like an equal exchange, and if he thought his greatest desires, his deepest fears were enough to sate me, he was very wrong. He had so few; they were so unimaginative. Spiders, loneliness, discomfort with his position in society, a desire for acceptance, a desire for supple flesh and willing lips, cats and his mother and his job and a thousand other details drifted through the cool dark.
He became aware of himself again, and we separated, floating, his expression made dreamy by the water's filtered light. I watched him impassively as he took breath after breath of my years, of my battles won and lost, of my silks and rags and riches. His nervousness was gone; he shared my victories, my defeat, my desires. We came together again, this time our bodies entangled, mouths meeting hungrily. I caught him and held him harshly in that weightless place, making my demands of his flesh, filling myself with the rawness of that need until all else was obliterated and the ocean finally fled me.
That darkness, that void where nothing of myself remained, lasted only precious few moments, but they were enough. I pulled my hands away and we were back in that empty, dusty room again. The monochrome semi-darkness assaulted me like noonday sun and I blinked and frowned at the boy on the lounge. His expression was still glazed; he lay, sweat and other fluids staining dark patches on his neat clothes. Finally after long minutes his eyes met mine. They were still brown, but they held some vague memory of that sharing. A tumbled understanding made unclear by his return to his feeble waking mind, but nonetheless, an understanding. I stood, and he gestured weakly.
"Wait! Don't go. Can't we talk?"
I left him as he was, not bothering to turn around. Business is business, and I had extracted my payment after all. Precious few moments, but they were enough. For now.
"So... what do we do from here?" It was a big enough bar that his words wafted up into the general miasma of conversation and lounge music. I am short, but I like to think that I have good projection to make up for it. My voice was light, but cold. Business is business after all.
"We go somewhere quieter. It won't work in anything resembling this noise."
Without waiting to see if he was following, I sauntered out and down the street. He hurried to catch up, and I could see him sneaking looks at me out of the corner of my eye. I let the silence stretch, thick with the boy's unspoken questions. Let him wonder, I didn't care. We reached the building and I led him up the darkened staircase to a small, threadbare room with two seats inside; one a chaise, one a plain wooden stool. The paint flaked its age onto the floor, and dust startled into flight from our entrance but settled lazily again in the stillness.
"Lay down," I instructed. He obeyed, though warily; we were alone, and I can't deny that my people have a reputation. Light filtered through a single window, casting stark shapes across his face, smoothing away imperfections until he might have been made of marble. I observed dispassionately that he had brown eyes. Did it matter? No. Not really. I took his proffered money and pocketed it. Taking a seat on the stool, I gently reached out and placed my hands on either side of his head. The effect was instantaneous.
We plunged, spiralling, into deep, cold water. For a moment we struggled, fighting the urge to swim, chest burning until we could take it no more! Then with a gasp, water filled us, flowing through our lungs, into our limbs and out our fingers, washing away panic with cool intensity. He was a but a babe in years, and the drops of his life washed away in moments in the sea of my consciousness.
It was a callous thing, this sharing. There is nothing like an equal exchange, and if he thought his greatest desires, his deepest fears were enough to sate me, he was very wrong. He had so few; they were so unimaginative. Spiders, loneliness, discomfort with his position in society, a desire for acceptance, a desire for supple flesh and willing lips, cats and his mother and his job and a thousand other details drifted through the cool dark.
He became aware of himself again, and we separated, floating, his expression made dreamy by the water's filtered light. I watched him impassively as he took breath after breath of my years, of my battles won and lost, of my silks and rags and riches. His nervousness was gone; he shared my victories, my defeat, my desires. We came together again, this time our bodies entangled, mouths meeting hungrily. I caught him and held him harshly in that weightless place, making my demands of his flesh, filling myself with the rawness of that need until all else was obliterated and the ocean finally fled me.
That darkness, that void where nothing of myself remained, lasted only precious few moments, but they were enough. I pulled my hands away and we were back in that empty, dusty room again. The monochrome semi-darkness assaulted me like noonday sun and I blinked and frowned at the boy on the lounge. His expression was still glazed; he lay, sweat and other fluids staining dark patches on his neat clothes. Finally after long minutes his eyes met mine. They were still brown, but they held some vague memory of that sharing. A tumbled understanding made unclear by his return to his feeble waking mind, but nonetheless, an understanding. I stood, and he gestured weakly.
"Wait! Don't go. Can't we talk?"
I left him as he was, not bothering to turn around. Business is business, and I had extracted my payment after all. Precious few moments, but they were enough. For now.
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