18.5 Fic: After Hours

Of course it was the fucking fey. Of course it was.   Cypher was pacing the finish off the floorboards. The backpack full of books he’d been so eager to get back to slumped next to the table, forgotten.   At least devils followed their own rules. Evil rules, yes, but they at least operated on a scale of morality that a person could understand, that was consistent. Their motives were always clear, even if their methods weren’t. Fiends felt like a goddamn treat next to those vermin.   Worse, if that attempt in the bar was any indicator, his usual methods were not going to work.   What he poured into that thing’s head should have sent it screaming, laughing, and wailing into the dark. Should have paralyzed its nerves, frozen whatever it had instead of a heart, reduced it to useless, gibbering imbecility.   “Fascinating stuff,” it said.   Hubris, sheer hubris to have thought his powers would give him any kind of an advantage against those belligerent cockroaches.   It was far from the first time a fey had been a pain in his ass, but that was before, when generally remembering the rules – don’t tell them anything, don’t give them anything, don’t take anything they offer you – was enough to keep him and his mostly un-hassled. The smaller ones could still gang up like insectoid urchins, volleying offers, goading, threatening, but as long as he could keep a clear head and keep politely refusing, he was fine.   Fuckers always seemed to be reading slights regardless, though. ‘Oh your house is green and only so and so is allowed to have a green house on Sundays.’ Fuck all the way off.   But that was always the extent of it; he never had to fight them before.   It wasn’t an option the last time he had the misfortune to cross paths with the wretched sewer-scum. And there was no doubt in his mind it would come to a fight. “Catch you later” echoed in his head like a taunt.   He needed more information. His lack of alternative methods felt like being caught in Guild territory after dark.   A solvable problem, but given that his primary way of figuring out new ways to use his abilities generally left him a little... rattled, he needed an alternative to that, too.   Fortunately, there was a library close by. Unfortunately, it was closed.   For most people.   He put his hand on the door, hesitated.   To stay was placebo. Mirage was asleep, Cri only a stones throw away, and even if they did try to spirit her away in her dreams, which for whatever rat-shit it was worth seemed to be against their own rules, Ta’lok and Saeldor could probably do more damage than him at the moment.   Seething, powerless fury was not going to help her. And the sooner he had another option, the better.   He shut the door to his room softly behind him. There was no light coming from under the other doors, but maybe it was better to be safe.   He forced himself still. Reached with his mind for the sensory world; light bending from matter, sound ricocheting from point to point in a fading comet, perception following its lines. It was as simple as not reflecting; letting cognition’s vectors pass through, slip over, slide past.   If the bored kid playing cards by themself at the desk noticed that the front door opened and closed briefly, they didn’t say anything.   He kept the distortion up on the road, until he hit the main street. Fog rolling up from the harbour made it hard to see more than a block or two ahead. It didn’t matter, he could have completed the trip from that point blindfolded.   He moved fast, reflexively weaving between the wavering spheres of light from the gas-lamps. A few shadows moved in alleys, corners. Guildies, maybe. Maybe not.   Bigger fish to fry.   Every part of him felt coiled like a spring. In a way it was a relief. At least anger was a feeling he knew what to do with.   He banked the first turn, picking up speed. The first turn led into an alley, but the alley had a ladder, and the ladder ended on a balcony, and the balcony railing was only a few feet from the roof, and the roof connected to a catwalk that jumped two streets in a straight line.   He came out of the market district through a sunken trail that followed the narrow canal, letting him move below street level. He counted the lamps from the bridge, hauled himself up to the street at the seventh. There were stairs at the twelfth, but he was in a hurry.   Hopping the half-wall was easier three years ago, but still doable.   I should start climbing shit again.   Later, though. Bigger fish.   The Luinosse’s back garden hadn’t changed much. Thick grass, tasteful shrubberies, spreading silver elm, smooth stone walkway leading around the corner to the lunarium.   He looked up to the second storey. Her light was on. That simplified things. He found a pebble in the lawn, aimed, and chucked it.   Tak.   Waited. Was just about to look for another one when pale hands pushed the pane up. She’d changed into a loose shirt with a wide collar that hung off the side of one ink-swirled shoulder. Her ponytail flipped forward over her shoulder as she leaned out.   “Mika? What’s wrong, what are you doing here?”   The whisper landed next to his ear as if she were standing there.   Well that’s handy.   “I need your help.”   The backlighting obscured her face, but a moment later she held up a “one second” hand and ducked back inside.   He waited, bounced from foot to foot. Tried to keep the springs tight.   Siobhan reappeared with a jacket on and stepped backward through the window, feeling with a foot for the gable that marked off the second storey. Standing on that, she eased the windowpane shut, hopped to the elm’s waiting branches, and climbed down like she was half squirrel. He moved to meet her there – from habit as much as the benefit of cover.   “All right, talk. What’s happening.”   He might have smiled if he wasn’t still so pissed. She asked like she was still deciding whether or not to help, but her wand was wand loose in its tie on her belt, and she was carrying her component pouch on the opposite hip.   “I need something from the Library.”   Frown. “It’s closed.”   “So we use the backdoor.”   If it was possible, she got paler. She opened her mouth, but said nothing. Shut it again. Eyed him warily. “And it can’t wait until morning.”   He shook his head, shifted from foot to foot, impatient.   “Finally come around on explaining how you’re a badass now, have you?”   “Shiv if anything comes near us I’m going to turn it into a pile of babbling goo. I just need you to watch my back so I can search.”   She raised a dubious eyebrow. “The way you did with that fey in the bar?”   He scowled. “That’s why I need the Library. It didn’t work. I knew they were fucked in the head, I didn’t know their heads were like that. So we’re going to the Library and I’m gonna figure it the fuck out.”   “And it can’t wait until morning,” she repeated, dubious.   “Can’t risk a party split when people are up and moving.”   “And you need to know how to do whatever you were trying to do -turn it into goo or whatever – so urgently why?”   “You saw what happened!”   Siobhan leaned back on the tree, hazel eyes squinting through his walls.   After a minute, she said, “okay, cut the crap. I know you’re not telling me everything.”   Fine, I'll just keep it quick.   “The situation,” he said, “is very fucking simple. There is at least one of the godsdamned ratfuckers after Mirage, and my shit does not work on them. I cannot keep her safe if my shit does not work on them. Do you not see how this is a time sensitive issue, that any amount of new information would be fucking helpful for?”   She had folded her arms, waiting. “What makes you so sure it’ll try again? Or that she was even in danger? It could’ve just been having a laugh.”   He hesitated.   It’s not my story to tell.   “Look, I want to help, but I have to know what I’m helping with. If this is some weird revenge thing for hitting on a girl you don’t even have the balls to ask out, I’m going back inside.”   “It’s not a revenge thing!”   “Then what is it?”   Their volume rose at the same time, and they turned heads to the building simultaneously.   No movement.   “It’s a logistics thing,” he continued though a tight jaw, “Somebody’s been after her for a while now. Even had her captive while the party was split. Put her in a fucking box, for weeks. Locked her the fuck up and kept her there. Shiv, if you could see the way she clouds over anytime it comes up-”   Her eyes widened. “Oh damn,” she whispered.   “She got away by what amounts to luck by my figuring, and there’s no reason to think whoever was behind it the first time got what they wanted. I’m still puzzling over how they even knew her route well enough to ambush her. So when something shows up and tries to whisk her away in fucking front of me and my powers don’t do jack shit to it, that makes me a little fucking agitated.”   “Okay, okay fair. There’s a few unknowns that gap your logic, but I see where you’re coming from.”   She paused, frowned. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re being such a pussy about asking her out.”   “What in all the hells has that got to do with-!”   “No no no, don’t you dare even start to tell me that’s unrelated. You listen. That gorgeous, smart, funny, absolute badass of a woman was handing you opportunities on a silver platter, all day and you’re just making jokes. And now you’re here at what is it, two in the morning? Thereabouts? All keyed up running across town to pull me out of trance because you can’t keep her safe? She doesn’t strike me as the type to need or appreciate being white-knighted, if that’s your angle.”   “It’s not-!”   “Then what? The Mika I knew would have mocked this pussyfoot wimp standing in front of me into the ground for not making a move. He’d tell Mirage to stop waiting around and find someone with a spine.”   For fucks sake she’s not ‘waiting around’ for anyone, least of all me.   “I told you already,” He ground through his teeth through a clumsy dodge, “It’s simple logistics. I need an upgrade, I can’t be useless if those things show up again.”   “Yes you can. You’ve got two guys with tree trunks for arms on your squad. Your paladin clocked the fae before you did, he just didn’t jump down its throat. And Cri can turn into a bear, apparently? And Mirage got herself out of the dance thing. So your magic doesn’t work on fairies. Good to know. Doesn’t mean she’s helpless.”   “And if that doesn’t work? If Ta’lok brings his hammer down and it just hits a pile of fuck all? You seen em jump before, we both have. Mirage is smart, but nobody’s used to checking every fucking syllable for loopholes. A bunch of em can change their faces – you think there’s never going to be another stranger who slips past her guard? If that fucking creep or any of its cockroach friends show up again – if whoever got her in that box before throws her back in there and I can’t even do anything-”   He couldn’t finish, his throat was closing.   Siobhan nodded. Frowned.   He swallowed. It didn’t help. Damnit, anger was so much easier than this.   “Okay, I’ll help.”   Finally. Can we go fight something, now? He started for the fence.   “On one condition.”   He looked over his shoulder.   Really? You’re going to extort me? On this?   “Oh by all means, Mika, if you can do this without me...”   “Fine. What.”   “I will go with you to the Library. I will watch your back while you search. I will even sign out anything you want to take back out with you.”   Shit, forgot about that.   “Yeah, you’re welcome. I’m also risking my job for you by the way, in addition to the usual flavour of parental bullshit. So I’ll do all of that, if you promise to tell Mirage how disgustingly smitten you are before end of summer.”   He turned the rest of the way to face her. The set of her chin was way too familiar.   Godsdamnit, she’s got her heels in.   “For fucks sake, Shiv, she’s just a friend.”   “Bullshit.”   Worth a shot.   “I can go back inside right now, get in my comfy clothes, light a bowl and trance the night away, but I’ll be real, I don’t want to. Because you’re my friend, Mika, and so is she, and I want her to be safe and you to be happy. And seeing you so miserable when something that would obviously give you actual joy is right in front of you is infuriating. So that’s my condition.”   He hesitated. “End of summer?”   “End of summer.”   It’s only May right now. Surely I can get a grip by autumn. Surely.   “Deal.”   She pounced for a hug that knocked a bit of wind from him. He sighed, patted her back and stepped away, heading for the fence. She was still smiling when she fell in step with him.