Tag Archives: fiction

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Tension in the Early Days

Author’s Note: Yeah… I would share every moment that Quinn and Candelaria have, but I think that’s a bit excessive. Still, I wrote one involving the whole locker thing (ugh… I forgot I did that with Cress and Enya in Fire and Water, but this is different, I hope,) and then had to go back and look at this scene, one that’s basically their first meeting.

Quinn is such a brat, but I like him. I shouldn’t, but I do.

Tension in the Early Days

“They’re not our parents. I refuse to call them that.”

Candelaria rolled her eyes, wondering how much trouble she’d get in if she shoved the older boy off the balcony. She didn’t know how long he’d been on the streets, but he didn’t impress her any. He was just like the others, trying to make people think he was tougher than he was. He’d have them believing that he didn’t care about any of this, didn’t need it, but he was an idiot if he really believed that. This house was the nicest she’d been in since the accident, and she knew that it wasn’t just about the house. They all had their own rooms, they had clothes that fit and plenty of food, but the most important thing was that the people here were good people.

Most of them, at least. She didn’t think very much of this kid, but she liked her new foster parents. They’d taken her and her brother in, and she knew that she’d always be grateful for that. She’d started to believe that she’d lose her little brother forever. No one wanted kids their age in the first place, and they didn’t want two of them. They’d been passed over time and time again because they had begged not to be separated.

These people had room, and they shared it. She didn’t know why, but she did know that she was grateful. That boy should be, but he had confused being rude with being tough.

“And I don’t have any siblings.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “As if anyone would want to be related to you. Not only would we have to put up with your personality, but we’d get stuck looking like you, too.”

He grunted. “Sometimes it’s a good thing not to be attractive. Bet you don’t know anything about that, though. How’d you make it through that group home and come out so innocent anyhow?”

“I don’t know. What crawled up your butt and died?”

“Candelaria! I know you two are adjusting to being members of the same house now, but that is not the kind of talk we want under this roof,” Mrs. Howell said, and Candelaria winced, not wanting to seem ungrateful, not like the boy she’d been ready to hit.

“Sorry, Mrs. Howell.”

“You don’t have to be so formal. You can call me anything—including Mama if you feel comfortable with it,” the older woman said, smiling. Her eyes always seemed so warm, and that bit of gray by her forehead was kind of pretty somehow. “I came to tell you that supper is ready. Your brother and sister have set the table, so all you have to do is come eat with us.”

That was one of the rules—everyone ate together. Candelaria liked it. “Okay.”

“I’m not hungry. And they are not my brothers and sisters.”

Mrs. Howell turned to the boy, walking out to where he stood, defiant, and Candelaria wondered if the woman would try to spank him. He was a bit old for it, but he deserved it.

He drew back when she tried to touch his face. “I know you have never known a home or a mother, and I’d like to—”

“Just send me back. Everyone does. It’ll save you time and a lot of headaches. I don’t do anything right, I can’t learn that school stuff, and I don’t like people. I told them not to try and place me again, but I’m just a kid so no one listens to me. I don’t belong in anyone’s ‘home,’ and I don’t want a mother.”

Mrs. Howell managed to catch him the second time, her hand going under his chin. “Well, you’ve got one now, and we’ll just see if you don’t belong here because I think you do. You don’t have to eat with us tonight. If you get hungry, you’ll have to help yourself from the fridge—but you won’t be able to heat any of it. No stove and no microwave, understood?”

He nodded, pushing her hand off his face. “Not that I don’t know how to use them, but I told you—I’m not hungry.”

She sighed, and Candelaria followed her as she left the room, glancing back at the boy with a frown. “Why are you letting him get away with acting like a brat?”

“If someone had put drugs in my food in the past, I wouldn’t want to eat what someone else gave me, either. I don’t know that he’ll ever trust us enough to eat with us, but that has to be his choice.”

Candelaria bit her lip, her eyes going back to him again, but this time, he wasn’t there.

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Still Not Family

Author’s Note: Periodically, I have scenes I do that I am particularly proud of. Sometimes I am just in love with the banter or I adore the fluff or it’s the perfect unveiling of a twist I’m proud of.

Sometimes I have no idea why I’m proud of it. I just set out to explore the dynamic between Quinn and Candelaria as part of a larger arc I’m still toying with, this scene that has been knocking around my brain for a while, and I’m not sure why it’s so key, but it matters.

Or that’s all insomnia talking and sharing this now is a bad idea, but the publish button is nice and shiny and I don’t have the proper judgment to stop myself. 😛

Still Not Family

“I told you to get out.”

“No, you told Mrs. Howell to get out. I’m not Mrs. Howell.”

Quinn frowned, rolling over to look at Candelaria. He didn’t understand what she was doing here or how she’d gotten in. He knew the door hadn’t opened, but he’d figured that Mrs. Howell hadn’t left when she closed it. Now, though, he didn’t know what to think. She hadn’t been with Mrs. Howell when she checked on him, and she couldn’t have stayed in when the woman ushered the other kids out of his room. She couldn’t have—had she come in his window? Was she insane?

“Same goes for you. I don’t want you here.”

She climbed onto the bed. “When our parents died, Beacan… He couldn’t deal with it. He didn’t want to act like anything had happened. It was really messing him up.”

He shrugged. “What’s your point? I don’t care about your sob story, and you know it. I never asked for it, and I don’t want it. I can plug my ears and start humming, but you know what? This is my room. Get out. Now.”

She shook her head. “Whatever had you screaming earlier isn’t going away. You need to let yourself deal with it. Pretending it didn’t happen isn’t an option. You know that.”

“I know you’re a nosy brat and I want you out of my room.”

“Come on. Since when you scream about anything? You had four boys attack you at school, one of them broke your ribs, and you didn’t scream. You fell off the roof and didn’t scream. You didn’t scream when the police arrested you for vandalism, and you never scream when you have a nightmare. What was that?”

Quinn turned away from her, wrapping his arms around himself as he tried not to think about anything—not what had made him cry out or any of what she’d just listed off. He didn’t want to remember any of that. “A flashback.”

“Flashback?”

“Don’t ever take drugs, okay? And if you do, make damn sure it’s not acid. LSD. Whatever you want to call it. Don’t take it.”

“I wouldn’t.” She shook her head. “I also never thought that you would. You’re a pain in the ass, and you talk tough. You don’t back down from fights, and you mouth off to everyone, but you don’t smoke, even if you carry cigarettes with you. You don’t drink even when Mr. Howell offers it to you.”

“Didn’t have a choice.”

“Oh. Mrs. Howell told me someone drugged your food, but I didn’t realize it was that kind of a drug. I was thinking poison or a sleeping pill.”

He tried not to shudder. “Sometimes I wish it had been either one of those things.”

“Why is acid so bad?”

“I… I don’t know what really happened while I was on it. What I saw… They call stuff like what happened to me a ‘bad trip.’ It… I saw a monster… It sounds stupid, but I was high and didn’t know it, and it scared the hell out of me.”

The bed shifted as she crawled over to him, wrapping her arms around him. He stiffened, trying to pull away from her, but she had her hands locked and wouldn’t budge. “Get off of me.”

“No.”

“The hell is wrong with you?”

“It’s not wrong with me. It’s wrong with you,” she said, leaning her head against his. “You’re acting just like Beacan, and I don’t have a choice—this is what I did for him, and I’m going to do it for you so that you can heal a bit and stop being such a jerk all the time. Let it out, Quinn. Give yourself a real chance to react to what happened, to what you saw and what you felt.”

He shuddered. Having the flashback was bad enough. He didn’t want this. “I hate you.”

“I don’t care. I don’t like you very much, either. I hate living with you, though, and if this makes you even the slightest bit easier to deal with, I’m going to make sure it happens. Process it for once instead of ignoring it.”

“I am not going to sit here and cry. Crap happens, especially to kids like us. That’s how life works for us. We’re kids in the system.”

“You know we got lucky. The Howells are good people.”

He snorted. “You’re an idiot. I’ve been in the system all my life, and I’ll be back in it soon enough. People like the Howells just get your hopes up and then when you trust them, they take that trust away and crush your hopes like you’re nothing. That’s how it works.”

“No. We’re done with that. We’ve got the Howells, and if all the stunts you’ve pulled lately haven’t made them send you back—which you do deserve because you’re trying to make it happen—you’re the idiot—it’s not going to happen.”

“Yeah, well, the last time I thought things were good in one of these foster homes, I got my usual wake up call. No, it was worse than the rest of them. At least the one was obvious about it. Getting knocked around isn’t that hard to take when you know it’s coming. Having drugs slipped into your food and having no idea what they did to you while you were on them… that’s different.”

She brushed back some of his hair, letting out a breath. “You know… since you hate me and I hate you, it’s not going to change my opinion of you if you do cry a little. I would if something like that had happened to me.”

He grunted. “I’m a dumpster baby. I stopped crying years ago.”

The words were braver than he was. He broke down after every acid flashback, and he hated himself for it. He didn’t want anyone to see it, but she’d come in and stayed, and he didn’t know what to do to make her leave.

“You’re still not my sister. We’re not family.”

“Heaven forbid,” she said, and he could hear the eye roll in her voice even if he couldn’t see it. “Go back to sleep, Quinn. You’re not alone this time.”

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When Persephone Met Randolph

Author’s Note: Included as a bonus with The Consultant and the Cat is the short story When Randolph Met Katya. It goes into more detail about events that Randolph summarizes in the larger story.

When I wanted to write something short, I said maybe I’d do an alternate point of view of a scene from one of my other stories, and someone did suggest that, but things in my real life intervened, so I didn’t get to it, and the ones I was thinking of doing first (something with Luna, actually,) I rejected.

I finished a larger project today, and while I would do another “prompt me” celebration, this is overdue, so here it is, finally. An alternate view of the moment when Randolph meets Persephone in The Consultant and the Cat.

When Persephone Met Randolph

Though it galled her to admit she was in over her head, Persephone Reynolds knew that she was. She couldn’t deny it, no matter how many times she’d tried to do it over the past few days. She was weak. She knew she was. No one else would have agreed to call in some freelance consultant, not when they were going to have to pay for his help out of their own pocket.

She didn’t know how she’d afford that, but she was desperate.

“Dr. Randolph?” She asked as he made it past the security at the door. She knew it was him. She didn’t need a photo or a file to be sure. They didn’t get a lot of visitors around here, but even if they did and she’d missed the id he’d flashed at the door, his suit screamed fed. He was too clean cut for this department, and the accent made him even more out of place.

“Has anyone ever told you you look almost exactly like the white witch of Narnia?”

He wasn’t exactly inventive, was he? She’d heard that a few dozen times before, and it wasn’t that impressive the first time around. “Most men wait until they know me before they insult me. And once they know me, no one insults me.”

“You are merely confirming my observation, Detective,” he said. She gave him a frosty smile. “I’ve spoken to Mayor Thompson. If your superior asks, he asked for my help, not you. Assuming that you still want my help?”

“Angie says you’re the best,” Persephone said with a shrug. Her friend had better be right, though. If she wasn’t, Persephone had a feeling they wouldn’t be friends anymore. “I suppose we’ll have to see about that.”

“I’ve actually never met Angelina. Er, wait. She was at Marcie’s wedding. I guess I met her, but I don’t know her. She doesn’t know me,” Randolph corrected. “I’ll take a look at the files if you don’t mind. And I need to see the crime scenes.”

Angie hadn’t even met him. Persephone didn’t believe this. She needed a moment, or she was going to lose her temper. She started to walk away from him. “The crime scenes we’ll do after lunch. You can look over the files while you’re here.”

“That actually isn’t a good idea. I was hoping to borrow them for a while.”

He didn’t get to make demands. She was angry enough without him making things worse. She was not accommodating him in any way. She never would have agreed to this if Angie had told her the truth. “Not going to happen.”

Randolph looked back at the door. What was he, skittish? Was he some kind of fake? She did not need this. She was going to kill Angie. She didn’t care if her cousin was in love with her.

“You don’t understand. I have a leopard.”

“A what?”

“A leopard. Pathera pardus. She’s melanistic, actually, so… black, but still a leopard. I worked with the FBI for several years. I was on a simple, seemingly straight-forward murder that turned out to be a part of a series of murders committed by a carnival worker—her trainer, to be specific. The bust went down at the circus; I had to stop him from whipping her to death. I saved her, that apparently bonded us, and now she won’t leave me alone. She’s become a sort of bodyguard. I tried to set her free. She couldn’t adapt. I gave her to a wildlife preserve for animals that had been domesticated. She was home before I was,” Randolph’s explanation ended with a sigh. He recovered a bit and shrugged. “She is my leopard, for better or worse.”

“So… I have a profiler with a leopard?” Persephone asked, trying to accept what she’d heard and seen. She half expected the jerks she worked with to pop out with a camera and start laughing at any moment. This had to be a dream—a nightmare. “Does the mayor know about this?”

“Yes. I have a special dispensation for her. And I accepted responsibility for her actions. Oh, and my words to the press are supposed to be ‘no comment.’”

“I’m sure. Well—” Persephone broke off as a leopard walked up to them, pushing her head against Randolph’s hand. She had thought it was a prank until now, and she’d been waiting for him to end it, but this was going too far. Damn. It just might be real. “How did she get in here?”

“She’s a very intelligent cat. Circus trained. She can roll down my car windows, and the outer door has a handicap access button.” Randolph looked down at the leopard and shook his head. “I told you I’d be fine, Katya. See?”

Persephone wanted to shoot him. Or herself. At this point, she almost didn’t care. Someone had to put her out of her misery. “Are you certain that you are a psychologist and not in need of one?”

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Author’s Note: When I started this story, I had this ending in mind from the beginning. That is to say, I knew this scene was coming because it gave me the title, but it didn’t come out on paper the way I had envisioned it.

That Perfect Sunset

“I have something I want to show you.”

“You do?” Agache asked, smiling. He reached for her hand, and Jis gave it gladly, wanting even more of a connection with him than she already had. This was what she’d envied in watching Anokii and Gekin together, and she was glad that they at last had this. She knew, too, that their relationship would always be twinged with some guilt for when they’d started feeling something for each other, but they had not taken that too far, and that knowledge must sustain them as they continued to grow their love now. At least the people had what they deserved—some sort of happiness after what they’d endured, and while she knew they would all carry their scars, while their land might never be united, they could look to the future with hope instead of fear.

She shook that thought away, giving her husband a smile. “I do.”

“That expression on your face is one that I have learned to fear after the time that I have spent with you,” he said, and she laughed. He did not fear anything about her, but she liked the way he teased her. She always had, under all the annoyance. “What torment have you devised for me?”

“I am the queen, not the king, and the new king—you—are a different sort of ruler. We do not torment anyone.”

“That depends on the definition. I think your behavior last night was rather… torturous since you were not willing to let me touch you and yet you would not stop touching me.”

She felt herself flushing. She had been rather bold, even at one point using esibani training against him. He had not complained too much. She’d believed he enjoyed that. “You are displeased?”

“I did not say that.”

“Is that what you’re hoping that I am planning now?”

“I am not sure I can endure more of that.”

“You survived the king’s torture. His brought you near death. Mine was… well, pleasurable.”

He nodded, stopping to touch her face, caressing her cheek before kissing her. She could let them get lost in this, it would be all too easy for them to do, but she had something else she had wanted him to see. She could not allow them to become distracted, not yet.

“Come. We don’t have much time.”

“Why are we rushing? I didn’t think there was any need of urgency. We have had a quiet time since our second wedding. There are quite a few among the Biskane who are very pleased to have you as their queen again, and I think you have made my rule seem more favorable than I could ever have expected. We may even be able to sustain this peace.”

She nodded. “I hope so. I do not want to think we shall lose it, not for our sake or for the people’s. I know there are some rumors of unrest, but I do hope that we can find a nonviolent solution to that. With most of the Nebkasha already settled in the new land, tensions have decreased considerably, and I think the Biskane are starting to accept you and life without the cruelty of the king to keep them harsh and angry all the time.”

He shook his head. “I have little to do with that. It is only that most who would have fought the changes are already gone.”

She tugged him forward. She doubted that he would ever acknowledge his part in keeping their land at peace and their people happy, no matter how long he managed to rule. “Here.”

“Jis, I do love you, but this is the same balcony we have been on many times before and—”

“Look, Agache. Look at the sky. The sun. It’s… Well, it’s beautiful, this combination of the clouds and the colors, but it’s more than that. After so long in the oppression of the twin suns…”

“Yes, I see what you mean, niniamant,” he said, closing his eyes, and she smiled as she saw a faint glow about him. “It is a perfect sunset.”

Author’s Note: So this story has just about reached its end. Once the negotiations were over, there wasn’t much tale left for me to tell, even though I found myself so attached to the queen and Agache that I wanted to do more with them. I just haven’t found a plot that would make a good sequel. Maybe I’ll satisfy my need to revisit old friends with a few short pieces instead.

Taking the Journey Home

“We will have to have a second ceremony according to the traditions of our land, you know,” Agache said, speaking again after several moments of silence. Anokii had been wondering if they would walk without conversation all the way to the castle, but then she knew, too, that first awkwardness after taking the vow of marriage, how timid and shy she and Gekin had been with each other even despite having consummated their love and their vows. Marriage changed so much, and for her cousin and his bride, their union was more complicated than most. They had to rule a country made up of two peoples that hated each other, and even with the permission she’d forced out of her father to allow the Nebkasha to settle in part of their land and buy it, tensions would be high between them and their neighbors for a long time to come. Anokii did think the other king had maneuvered things so that Agache would take Jis as his bride, but she did not know that his reasons for that were honorable.

She hoped the man had done it because he knew his daughter was unhappy, if he suspected that she loved Agache, but he could have done it with deception in mind, as he had with the last treaty. True, they knew what Jis was. They wanted her for a queen. Agache needed her. He did not have the luxury of settling in the Nebkasha’s new land. He was the king. He had to find a way to represent both peoples and would have to remain at the castle, at least at first. He would need support and love, and he had both of those things in the woman he’d chosen.

“I do not mind. We have vowed to be loyal to each other, and that does not change with repetition. Some people, though, they should have it and don’t.”

“Like Wenjige?”

The queen’s lips curved with disgust. “She betrayed her husband for Malzhi. How could she?”

“There were those who considered him attractive.”

“Liar.”

He laughed. “I’m not, though. By the standards of his people, he was handsome, and he had power, too. Some find that appealing.”

“They are as sick as he was.” The queen frowned. “You… Do you doubt my ability to be faithful to you after what happened between us? I do not… It is not the same. I had no desire to marry him, did not do it except by obligation, and I am not saying that to excuse my behavior—”

“I do not want excuses. It is not…” Agache sighed. “In some respects, it might be justice to have it all happen again, but I do not think it will. Neither of us wanted to break your vows. Neither of us did, not more than that kiss, and once we had done that… I suppose we should have stayed apart. Had it not been for the king’s death, my ascension to the throne, and the new treaty, we would have.”

Anokii frowned. She did think her cousin meant that—he would not have gone for the queen if he had not needed to negotiate with her people. He would have let her go. Anokii did not know if that was noble or foolish.

“I am rather glad of the treaty then,” the queen said, her voice quiet. He stopped, placing his hands on her face. “I know we are… more fortunate than most in what we now have.”

“You are not regretting returning with me, are you?”

“Of course not. Where you are is where I want to be.”

“We will still have to live in the castle until I can have a modest residence built on the border of our lands. I would like to step away from the throne and give it to someone else, but I see only bloodshed in doing so, and I cannot—”

“I am not asking you to abandon your people now. I would never do that.”

He pulled her close, kissing her. Anokii turned away, not needing to watch. She was glad to see her cousin happy, but she did not want to intrude upon that happiness, either. She knew how much privacy meant to her and Gekin, and Agache had always tried to allow for them to have as much time alone as possible. She could be as considerate in return.

“We should continue on. We still have a long journey ahead of us.”

“Perhaps we should stop for the night.”

“It is not even midday.”

“So?” The queen laughed, wrapping her arms around Agache’s neck. “It will be night, and we both enjoy the nighttime more than the rest of the day. Why not sleep now and wake up when it is night? Or we could not sleep and spend the night together as well…”

He smiled, shaking his head. “You are far too tempting, niniamant.”

“Not tempting enough, though. You are about to make us press on.”

“Anokii wants to be back with Gekin.”

“I know, but she can go ahead without us if she wants. I think we deserve a day’s respite from all we endured before we left my homeland and before we return to our obligations in your kingdom.” The queen stepped up to kiss him, just a gentle one right on his cheek. “Please. We have not had much chance to be alone since we married, and there will be so many distractions, so many responsibilities… We do not have to abandon them, but can we not have one day for ourselves?”

“I do not know that we can as the situation in the kingdom is—”

“I say you may as well stay.”

“Gekin!” Anokii cried, smiling as she ran toward her husband. She had not expected him, thought that she had to get back to the castle before she would be able to hold him again, and this was a wonderful surprise.

“It was too long to wait. I got impatient.”

“You are such a fool.”

“Always, niniamant, always, but only for you.”

Author’s Note: One deceptive king, a major omission and assumption, and a subplot that refused to be denied all come together to create this part. I wrote it out of order, almost pulled it several times, and in the end, it stayed with some alterations to make it fit better.

Certain Terms of Negotiation

“I think you care about them a great deal.”

“The Nebkasha? Yes, Father, I do. I admire them. Their survival after so many years of oppression and hardship, their ability to work against the king without causing civil war and lots of bloodshed, the way that they care for each other and love each other—Oh, if you saw Gekin and Anokii and the way they look at each other, the way they touch… They are people to envy, sharing something so wonderful that everyone should want it.” Jis shook her head. She let out a breath, hoping her cheeks did not betray any sort of color. “I suppose now you will say I should not come to the negotiations. I have exposed my bias, and I cannot act for our people. I would give too much to them.”

“I fear you already have.”

“What, the land? You know none of our people are willing to dwell there, and they are giving us a fair price for it. That is not wrong. They deserve a life without the horrible heat, a place where they do not have to be punished for who they are.”

Her father smiled at her, lifting her head. “Yes, you are a queen, aren’t you? The needs of the people are your concern.”

“I—I was not a true queen, and you know this. Stop calling me that. It is… it is an insult coming from you. You bartered me off and used my loyalty to you and the esibani to do it, you gave me in the place of Zaze when she should have to face the consequences of who she is just once, and you still have no idea what I went through at the king’s hands.”

Her father shook his head. “I mean it as high praise, daughter, and I hope you see that someday.”

She glared at him. She doubted she’d ever forgive him for any of this, but before she could tell him that, the doors opened, and Agache stepped in, followed by his cousin. Anokii had removed her cloak, and Jis was disgusted to realize her father was attracted to the other woman. “She’s married—and she’d never betray Gekin.”

“Zaze is quite wrong about them. They have a certain… appeal.”

“You are revolting.”

She wondered if Agache had heard her as he crossed toward them. His manner was polite, but no more than that. She thought him rather distant instead of how he had been the day before. “I do hope we can resolve the remainder of our mutual concerns today. I regret delaying the proceedings yesterday, but I was having trouble concentrating.”

“How is your arm today? Do not lie now.”

“Better, and you may ask my cousin if you think I am lying. She will tell you I am not.”

Anokii grimaced. “It is not much improved, but yes, there is an improvement, so he is not lying. He is a bit better.”

“Good,” Jis said, smiling. She felt her father’s hands on her shoulders and looked up at him with a frown. What was this? He did not need to touch her—he should not touch her, not with how angry he kept making her.

“I think we must include a clause that will ensure that we… allies will trust each other,” her father said, and she tried to pull herself free only to be tugged backward. “There is, of course, one way this is traditionally done. The oldest sort of alliance. Marriage.”

Agache drew in a breath. Anokii placed her hand on his good arm, and he covered her hand with his as he nodded, though he did not look at all pleased. “That may be necessary.”

Jis frowned. That she did not care for, even if she had been more or less fortunate to be that bride for the first treaty. Now it would be Zaze, wouldn’t it? Oh, how her sister would hate that. Not that she’d be marrying a Nebkasha. She’d get a Biskane and hate that just as much. “Your new leader would agree to this? He wants one of the princesses as a wife?”

Agache laughed. “No.”

Her frown deepened. “No? You just said it might be necessary, but if your leader is not willing to marry one of the princesses—”

“I want you for my queen.”

“Your queen?” She felt sick. She could not do that again. She refused to be a part of that bargain, even for peace between their lands. “Agache, I do not know who ended up gaining power after the king and Malzhi died, but I am not going to marry anyone just because I was married to the king and—”

“I want you for my wife. That is the only term under which such an alliance would be possible.”

She stared at him. “You…”

He nodded. “I am the king now. Did you forget that I had royal blood? They did not all rally behind me, but they did eventually concede after more bloodshed between my opposers eliminated those supporting them. Without enough support, they could no longer fight, could not gain any advantage or power. A few of them died themselves. I think we all saw that there was no reason to let the killing continue. It was not a celebrated thing, but in the end, they named me king.”

She swallowed. “It… I hadn’t forgotten, but I did not think you wanted to rule.”

“I don’t want to be king, but I will do what is best for my people—all of them. I represent both sides, carry the blood of both nations, and therefore I have an obligation to them both. I know that I am not what some of them want, but they have been willing to accept my leadership thus far.”

“I am glad.”

“You do not seem that glad to me.”

She tried to force a smile. “It is… That is… I did not think you… We… I would not have thought you would want me, not after… This isn’t about releasing me from my vows as an esibani, is it? You do not have to marry me for that. You don’t.”

He frowned. “I had, I thought, been too clumsy and obvious with how I felt, with feelings I had no right to feel. I am not sure how you could not know the way I felt, Jis. I have slipped from the beginning, calling you my esibani, considering you a friend… My curiosity began when we traveled together, when you betrayed depths that your half-sister had never shown before. All the times she was present for the negotiations, she was quiet, sullen, and her opinions lacked comprehension. I saw the differences then, since you had removed your cloak, and yes, I suspected the switch, so when I escaped, I did see a need to watch you. I did, on occasion. I saw the esibani training and much more. A part of me knew that when I went to see you, I wasn’t just visiting an ally. I could have sent Anokii to get you or give you word in advance, but I always wanted to go myself. I wanted to see you. That… It was… foolish. Anokii had told me to find a reason to keep living and fighting. I had not thought I wanted any such thing, and to find it in you was… actually quite unpleasant. I did not want to be in love with a woman I knew I could not have, a woman I knew I had to use to free my people and could end up dead because of my plans and manipulations, even my affection. You were married. I did not want to be attracted to you, not even a little. I hated myself for it. I still do. I am not proud of what I felt, but I cannot deny it. I loved you, and that was why I tried to send you away, why I had to send you away, for both our sakes.”

She could not find the words she wanted. She had so many things to say to him now, but she did not know how. She needed to tell him that he was not alone, that she had fallen and betrayed herself and her vows as well. She had not broken them, not by deed, but in spirit, yes, and she hated it as much as he did.
“I…”

He took a step back. “If you do not want to accept the terms of the negotiations, we can negotiate others. I would only ask that you excuse me for a moment—”

She rushed forward, unwilling to let him leave. She might not have the words, but she knew that she was not going to let go. She grabbed hold of his tunic and kissed him, holding him in place. They were not under the influence of any eclipse, nor was it all that dark in this room, but she swore she saw that same glow to him, and she could not help smiling as she did. This was them. This was how it felt to be who they were, feeling as they did, being in love, and it was… wonderful. She knew it should not be, not after the wrong they’d done, but she did not think that she had ever experienced a more perfect moment, though she would also hope there would be more to come. Perhaps they did not deserve it, but that did not mean that she did not want it.

She pulled back, needing to breathe and to speak. “You were not alone. I… I felt things I should not as well, and I do not know that it is right even now that I am free, but… I accept. I want to marry you.”

“Zigaime, niniamant.” He laughed, the slight glow to his features shifting in color as he did. “I sound so stupid. I am very clumsy at this. I have never been in love before.”

She shook her head. No, he was nothing of the sort—not stupid and not clumsy. “I do not think you are stupid or clumsy. I am glad to be your first—hopefully your only love.”

“I should think you would be, even given my likeliness to outlive you.”

She thought of his words about the dragon blood and the king’s ancestors. “How old are you?”

He smiled. “I cannot tell you that. Anokii would be very displeased.”

“Why?”

“I’m older than she is.”

“Liar.”

He grinned and kissed her again, and Jis decided she didn’t care how old he was. She wanted to spend her life with him. That was all that mattered.

by

The Cat Picks a New Case

Author’s Note: So I said I was celebrating the release of The Consultant and the Cat. I am. This is one possible sequel to that story. I’ve got another alternate one; we’ll see if either makes it to a full novel’s worth of story or not.

This one also features some characters that visitors to the site might recognize, though Fi’s a bit out of character, though I think that’s understandable under the circumstances that led her to Randolph’s office. For more of Fi’s story, start with The Loss of Eight Years.

The Cat Picks a New Case

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“I think you have the wrong impression about the kind of consulting I do. In fact, I think you may even have an incorrect idea of the kind of degree I possess,” Randolph said, shaking his head as he shifted in his chair, trying to keep his side from aching as much as possible. If he admitted it was troubling him, he knew far too many people who would be willing to usher him right back into bed—if the migraine he was certain to have after he got done with this interview didn’t put him there first. “I am not someone who can counsel you about giving up your child for adoption. I am not someone who can prescribe medicine nor can I—”

“I knew I should have had someone come with me,” the woman across from him said, putting a hand to her head. She leaned back in her chair, taking a few breaths to calm herself. “If the only person who seemed to understand even part of it wasn’t out of the country, I would have dragged him back here, made him do the talking… I’m sure I sound hysterical.”

Randolph reached for his pen, about to write down the number of a counselor who could do a far better job of this than he would. “I would not call it that. Hysteria is a term that has a few negative connotations, especially, I believe, for someone of your gender, and it has fallen out of favor in the medical community. What we call hysteria—Forgive me. I almost started on one of my infamous tangents.”

The woman managed a short laugh. “It… that actually made me feel better for some reason.”

“I’ll blame my accent. Some people think the Oxford in it is very soothing.”

“Perhaps a little.”

He smiled, getting ready to tear the paper off the pad for her. “As I was saying, I’m not the sort you need for any kind of consultation in that respect. My skills are… They’re more suited to a different purpose. I am not sure I’m the one you want to help you deal with the loss of your baby—”

“She’s not my baby,” the woman said, and Randolph frowned. He didn’t think he understood any of this. How had he missed the part about this not being her child? She’d sounded very much like the mother a moment ago. “The truth is, I have no legal claim to her whatsoever. That’s part of my problem—not the only one, but one of the bigger ones—but it’s not… Oh, I wish I’d been able to have Darren explain this. He’s got the emotional detachment… He called it like it was from the beginning.”

“He’s the one that’s out of the country?”

“Yeah. I didn’t want to wait because I know these things can’t wait, but every time I try to explain it to someone, they assume the hysterical part and ignore the rest of what I need to say. Even my brother did, but then again, my brother tends to assume I’m incapable of handling anything on my own,” she said, rubbing her forehead. “Sorry. I guess I should have had my translator. I’m still not getting to the point. It’s not like we have time to wait for him to get back.”

“I’m sure a few hours delay would—”

“He’s terrified of flying. He’d have to sail back.”

Randolph grimaced, but before he could summon a response to that one, the door opened, pushed by a large black head, and Katya slinked her way into his office, each of her paws padding against the floor as she crossed to his side. She gave him a look, and he frowned, but she ignored him as she walked over to the other chair.

The woman took one look at the leopard, blinked, and shook her head. “Just when I thought I had a handle on things—if you commit me, will you please make sure that Darren gets notified? I did kind of promise to tell him what happened, so…”

“I assure you, the leopard is real, though I was hoping to keep her out of the office while we talked. This is Katya.”

“Katya.” The leopard purred at the sound of her name, putting her head in the woman’s lap. “You’re a bit too adorable for your own good, too, aren’t you? Damn it.”

Randolph wanted to send the cat for Persephone, hoping another woman’s presence might help, but he didn’t think he’d get the leopard to listen, not now. She thought she belonged right where she was, and he’d never change her mind about that. “You said—”

“I think my husband’s baby was stolen.”

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“Stolen?”

“Ah, Reynolds, love, thank goodness,” Randolph said, rising from his desk and coming to Persephone’s side, pulling her into the room. She had only meant to find out where the leopard had gotten to—she knew they could not afford another incident with her mother’s neighbors, so Katya needed to be supervised—not get involved in his case, whatever it was. “We have had some trouble getting this matter sorted out.”

“Which is his polite way of saying I’ve been a near incoherent mess,” the woman in the chair said, glancing at the leopard. “I’d stand and shake your hand, but I can’t right now. I’m Fidelity Purcell. You can call me Fi if you want. Just… not Mrs. Burns.”

Persephone frowned. “I thought your name was Purcell.”

“It is. My husband’s was Burns,” the other woman explained. “I am making a huge mess of this… Okay, in short, simple terms—my husband had an affair. He got that girl pregnant. Both he and the mother ended up dying, and I had the baby at the time. Long, long story there. Social services said they’d find one of her relatives to take in the baby, and supposedly they did.”

“I don’t think we’re going to like this supposedly, are we?” Persephone asked, and Randolph nodded, reaching for his chair. He sat back down with a wince.

“Someone impersonated Chloe’s aunt and took the baby. Chloe’s aunt told me she never wanted anything to do with the child, but she doesn’t care what happened to it. The local police don’t seem all that concerned. No one does.”

“No one except you.”

Fidelity looked to Randolph, sighing. “I… I kind of bonded with the baby against my will. I had good reasons for giving her up when I did, and I still mostly believe that was the right decision, but she… I was told I could at least know what her progress was, only when I spoke to the aunt, I found out she never took the baby. I don’t know who has her or why they want her, but I can’t imagine that it was for any kind of… good reason. I’ve seen stuff on television about people selling babies—Richard told me he’d buy me one once as a joke, the bastard—and I suppose she could have gone to a good home, but I don’t know that. All I know is that someone lied and stole her.”

Persephone crossed over to Randolph’s side, knowing they needed to discuss this in private. “What was the name of the officer you spoke to? Do you have a case number with the department? I’m a detective, and I didn’t hear anything about this missing baby.”

Fidelity took in the badge clipped to Persephone’s belt and shook her head, trying to get up from the leopard. “I shouldn’t have come. I… It’s not like I have a legal claim to the child. I don’t. She’s not my blood, I never adopted her, and I was separated from my husband when he died. Not that any of that matters. They all took one look at me and decided I was hysterical. You agree with your colleagues, don’t you?”

“I just look like an ice queen,” Persephone said, feeling defensive, the same way she always did when she felt like she was being judged by her looks. Death warmed over, the white witch, all assumptions that added up to her being cold and unfeeling. “I’m not heartless.”

“You can save your pity. I don’t want that, either.”

“Persephone was not talking about pity. While her department may have officially declined to pursue an investigation or to keep you informed of their efforts in this regard, I am not bound by their restrictions. I make my own decisions about the cases I take—well, when the leopard allows me to, that is. She has her own mind about these things.” Randolph took hold of Persephone’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “You and I shall discuss this ice queen nonsense again later.”

“Randolph, I swear, if you try to—”

“I do enjoy making you melt,” he said, and she knew she’d gone red again. She shook her head, pulling her hand from his. He shrugged, turning back to his client. “My apologies. She is very sensitive to the discussion of her looks, and I rather insist on challenging the myth every chance I get.”

Fidelity shook her head. “I didn’t even… I guess I was too distracted. I take it that’s… natural?”

Persephone nodded. “Recessive genes.”

“Oh. Cat, please, let me up already. I—It wasn’t about the way you look. I didn’t even notice. I just… I don’t want to waste any more time. If you don’t or can’t help me, that’s all I really need to know.”

Randolph let out a breath, looking at the leopard. They both knew what the cat’s actions meant. He didn’t have a choice. He was taking this case. “I’m going to need more information from you.”

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Author’s Note: Agache would, of course, not travel without his cousin. She would never have allowed that to happen.

Quiet Discussions of Loyalty and Duty

“My lady.”

“Anokii,” the queen said, and the maid surprised herself with how pleased she was to see the warmth of the other woman’s greeting. “Oh, I am glad you traveled with him—though with his stubbornness and injuries, how could you not? He might not have made it without you.”

She laughed, knowing her cousin hated the truth of the queen’s words. “You are correct. He should not have come. Yet I think if it had been anyone other than him, these negotiations would not have been successful.”

“I believe my father will be persuaded to give your people the land near the border. The Nebkasha can be free at last.”

Anokii smiled, tempted to embrace the other woman, despite the difference in their station. She looked to Agache as he sat down on his bed, taking off his boots. He rubbed at his neck, and Anokii had to check and see if his skin had burned. He had chosen not to wear his cloak to the negotiations—a decision she’d disliked, but he was determined to enjoy the freedom that came with the absence of a second sun.

“Where is Gekin?”

“He could not come. Someone had to remain that could be trusted, and that was Gekin. I regret that he could not be here—I know he was concerned for you after he left you here.”

The queen’s hand touched her side. “I… I have recovered. I would thank him for bringing me here, except I am not so certain here is where I want to be.”

“Are you a prisoner here?”

“No. It is just… I no longer feel the same about my home and my role as I did. I have been… too independent to return to the role of an esibani, not wanting to follow orders. I have grown quite angry with my father, and I fear shall soon quarrel with him in a way that cannot be undone.”

“If we are able to get our land, perhaps you could join us there.”

“Oh, Anokii, I would… Except I have taken oaths of loyalty, and my vows, at least, keep me here.”

Anokii turned to Agache. Had he not asked before? “Surely we could include a release from your vows as a part of the treaty. I don’t even know that they should be able to keep you—you were our queen, after all.”

“Zaze was supposed to be your queen. My replacement of her dishonored the treaty, and I am not a queen here. I am only Jis, the esibani assigned to protect Zaze.”

“Zaze does not deserve you,” Agache said, pushing up his sleeve. The queen—Jis—winced as she saw the wound. “I am starting to believe that will never heal.”

Anokii shook her head, going for the herbs that she had brought with her. He should not have forced them to travel at such a pace, but she knew that he did not want to be gone from the castle for any longer than was necessary. His absence could send their country back into chaos. Were it not for the importance of these negotiations, he should not have come at all.

“It will. You need to rest more.”

Jis nodded. “I should go. I fear I have stayed here too long already, and I will lose what credibility I have as a negotiator if I seem too partial. Zaze already thinks that I am biased, and I admit I am after all your people did for mine and for me personally, but they cannot be allowed to know that.”

“It is not that we do not appreciate all that you did as well,” Anokii told her. “Without you, what we have now might not have been possible.”

“No, it would not have been,” Agache said. He closed his eyes. “Do you want us to ask for your release, Jis? You deserve your freedom as much as we do.”

The queen’s eyes shone, but she shook her head before any tears might fall. “No. That is not necessary. I will see you tomorrow at the negotiations.”

She opened the door and slipped out, shutting it behind her before either of them could speak. Anokii frowned. She stopped herself from giving the herbs to her cousin. “Why did you not tell her—”

“The choice is hers to make. She is under no obligation to join us, and she might find she did not feel as though she belonged there, either. If she decides it is what she wants, she is welcome to join us and I will negotiate for her release if need be. If not… Then she is free to remain.”

“I think she is miserable here, Agache, and she may be too stubborn and dutiful to ask for release even if it is what she desperately wants. You may have to do it for her.”

“Perhaps. We shall see what tomorrow is like.”

Author’s Note: In the first version of the negotiations, things were settled all too quickly. I had to go back and change that so that they were more realistic. That allowed Zaze to make an appearance, since I wanted to show just how different Jis was from the sister she was forced to imitate.

Starting Negotiations

“I have already told you the terms are unacceptable.”

She stilled. She knew that voice. Was she dreaming? She’d thought Agache had died because of Malzhi’s attack, she knew he’d not been moving the last time she saw him, but now she had to wonder how much she could trust her memory. She had hoped that her memory was wrong, but now she had proof that it was—he was here; he was alive—and she could not be happier. She should have known it would be him. He had survived, and that meant that he would be a part of restoring his land to peace, always mindful of the needs of his people. He was a trusted minister before his death, and now he would be again.

Still, a bit of wonder crept into her voice as she drew closer, wanting to be sure that she was seeing—and hearing—the right man. “Agache?”

He rose from the table, smiling at her as he left the others. “At last. Someone I trust enough to negotiate with.”

She laughed, though a part of her was not as amused as she had pretended. “Is that all I am?”

“Oh, no, of course not, but I have to admit that I do not think highly of those who would send you to marry our king,” he said, giving her father a dark look. She thought he felt about the same about the other man as she did. “Especially since they intended to have you kill him.”

She nodded. “That would make negotiating difficult. Perhaps we can make a more equitable arrangement possible.”

“I do hope so, but I think my demands are too much to expect.”

She had not think that Agache should be at all hard to negotiate with, nor did she believe that he would be overly demanding, despite his words. He was a reasonable man, and he always put the needs of his people first. “Oh?”

“We would like to purchase or trade for some of your land. The forest near the border is unoccupied, and it seems to have little value to your people. If that is true, then my people—that is the Nebkasha—would like to live where there is darkness. In fact, we must live where there is darkness. We no longer have a land of our own, so we must find one or buy one.”

“I think that is very understandable,” she said. She took a breath and looked at her father. He shook his head, but she smiled. “I do believe we will be willing to sell you some of that land you’re interested in, as long as we can agree on a price.”

“We should be able to do so. One thing that all parties in the land agree upon is that the Nebkasha should have a place of their own. We want darkness. They would exile us into the north and the twin suns. We will not allow that to happen. Even if we are limited in our first few years in the new land, if we lack money for trades, we will be grateful for what we have in the darkness we have missed for so long.”

“Then we should have no trouble negotiating.”

Agache shook his head. “Well, there are other clauses, including one major one that some may object to.”

“Is there?” She could not see why he would think it would be so difficult, even if her father was fuming in silence after her agreement to what Agache was asking. She would not deny the Nebkasha their land. Her father would be made to see why they had to give them it as well. The Nebkasha had freed them from the threat of the king everyone had feared. “Why is it objectionable?”

“Don’t be absurd, Jis. You can’t go giving him everything he asks for. That land is not yours to pledge, nor can I see why you would want to…” Zaze gave Agache a look. Jis frowned, and her half-sister moved over to her side. She took Jis’ arm, pulling her away from Agache. “Honestly, I do not know how you can stand to look upon him. Them. They are so pale, so colorless and ugly, as though they are little better than corpses that can walk.”

“Why are you even here, Zaze?”

“I am the princess. You are the one that does not belong.”

Agache turned away, walking toward the back of the room. “I can see these negotiations will prove useless. I do not care for your tactics, dangling Jis out as bait to make me think that you would honor any of your promises. We are done here. I cannot promise that the Biskane will not choose to invade you when the unrest settles. The king may be dead, but that does not mean the hatred has died with him. The others are still his people.”

Jis looked to her father. “Do I have the ability to negotiate or not? We owe the Nebkasha. They were the ones to prevent the war. If not for Agache and his cousins, the king would have killed me and slaughtered all of you.”

“And again you discount everything that you did. I do not believe my efforts so important. I did little. You took all the risks.”

“She’s esibani. What do you think she’s supposed to do?”

“Zaze. Enough,” the king said, coming over to Jis. He put his hands on her shoulders. “You have a true air of command to you, and you have changed so much since you left us. You are complete in ways no training could have managed.”

She sighed. “I do not want you to turn me into your negotiator now.”

“You are far more than that,” Agache said. He let out a breath. “I fear we must conclude the negotiations for today. I… I cannot continue at present.”

“Are you still hurting?” She asked, leaving her father and rushing toward him. “Malzhi was determined to kill you, so was the king, and I did nothing—”

“I would hardly call your actions nothing, and I think it is more the travel that is the problem. It was not so terrible after we had passed from the double suns, but I assure you, that is never easy for one of us. It was less so for me since I have some lingering ailments.”

“Then we will let you rest until nightfall when you can renew your strength. Come.”

Author’s Note: I find the Jis’ interaction with her father fascinating. Not sure why. I just do.

The Difficulty of Being a Royal Daughter

“You are more regal than your mother.”

Jis did not turn to look behind her. She did not need to, nor did she think she should. “You are not amusing. My mother was never the queen, and if you dare say she was when she shared your bed, I think you shall experience my training first hand.”

The king sighed. “Why must you be so difficult, Jis? Cannot a father express his pride in all his daughter has achieved?”

She snorted. “Did you even know it was me when you spoke? Supposedly no one can tell the difference between me and Zaze, but you… You never have, have you?”

He shook his head, putting a hand on her arm. “I have. I do. Anyone should be able to if they try. You carry yourself ready for an attack whereas she walks with pride. You have grace and fluidity in every motion. She has to watch so that she does not trip over her own skirt.”

Jis nodded, not as flattered as he no doubt expected her to be. “I am what you had them make me.”

His gaze softened, and she thought there was pity or perhaps concern in it, though she did not esteem her father as she had once done. He was not the man she’d thought he was, and he should never have sent her to another land. Her mind had been opened to all his faults, starting with his decision to send her there to kill, and she had gone back over all her memories, finding more and more reasons to dislike him.

“You suffered, then, in the other land? You have refused to speak to anyone of your time there, so we did not know what had occurred.”

She stared at him, unable to believe what she heard. “You had me wed to a monster, and now ask if I suffered? Are you truly so ignorant of what you sent me into? How could you be when you made me go in her place and expected me to kill him?”

The king did not flinch. “You did not kill him immediately, so why would we think that you were in so dire of a position? You gave us no word of any threat, nor did you do as you were instructed. What were we supposed to think? You seemed to have accepted your new life without any need to contact us. We could only speculate on how you fared, and you seemed to have been fine, since otherwise you would have told us. You were trained for that.”

She almost hit him. “You idiot. I was trapped in the castle with hundreds of guards loyal to their king. He was a man who ruled by fear, killing off even his own troops if it pleased him. No one was safe from his anger or his violence, and he wanted me dead from the moment that treaty was signed. He was not ready for war with us, that was the only reason I lived—and you know how it was when he turned on me. You saw what happened. How dare you say I was under no threat? How dare you say that it was my fault for failing to give word to you? How could I? Was not the return of the servants you sent with me an indication of my circumstances? You ignored that warning sign. You ignored everything.”

“Jis—”

“Leave me alone. I have no desire to speak to you again.”

“I know that you do not—”

“I said leave me.”

His grip tightened on her arm. She saw the esibani that protected him moving closer. They would attack her if she made one move against him. Their loyalty belonged to their king, not to their comrades.

“You cannot order the king about. I will demand your presence at the negotiations if I must.”

She would just as soon be imprisoned over helping her father again, but she had heard nothing of what transpired outside of her chamber, and she had not known that there was anyone here. “Negotiations? With whom?”

“Now that the revolt is over, they have come seeking a new treaty between our lands. I want your opinion on their sincerity.”

She would have refused to go if she was not curious about how the land had fared since Gekin dropped her across the border. Instead, she nodded. She would get her information from whoever had come, and she would at last have answers as to the fates of those she cared about. That was worth helping her father. She needed to know about Anokii, about Gekin, about Agache…

She forced the thoughts from her head and said nothing as she walked with her father toward the doors, entering the great hall.