down. “Can you explain why my best friend who disappeared, and whom you’ve never seen, is in this picture? And why I appear to be breaking him out of some kind of prison?” I stared at my drawing with him, as stunned as he was. Steps; long, winding steps that were carved into someplace underground; there was Erik, looking rough, separated from a stranger I’d drawn in great detail by bars made of stone… or was it ice? The shading was odd, too. Woven into patches of penciled shadow were faint figures, different scenes. I squinted, but it was hard to make them out. Maybe they made sense to Erik. He jabbed the menu drawing with an accusatory finger. “What the hell is Amelie doing there? And her brother?”
Sure enough, my ice princess co-worker stood at the top of the stairs with a lantern, wearing a cloak that looked like a reject from a Renaissance Faire. Nicolas stood at her right elbow, holding a sword. Nic… with a sword? My mouth opened and shut like a doomed fish. Explanations presented themselves, each crazier than the last, until I realized there was no way I could explain drawing his friend, a person I’d never seen. Besides, what if it was somehow actually important to him?
“I got nothing,” I said at last, collapsing back in my chair. He stared at me like he didn’t know whether to call the mental ward or the police. I hauled myself up out of my chair and willed him to believe me. “It comes with the weird eyes, ok? That’s all I can say.” I handed him the menu. “Take it. The last couple of my drawings have disappeared, and it might be important to you. So please. Take it. Just don’t tell anyone, ok?”
After a very long moment in which I dared not look at him, the drawing slid from my fingers. Strong hands slid under my forearms, supporting me. “Ok,” Erik said simply. I expected fear or suspicion, but saw only acceptance and concern on his plain, honest face. That was it? Ok? He wasn’t going to demand another explanation, or tell me I was crazy?
Suddenly, along the windowsill beside us, every single tea light in its votive holder flared roughly six inches high and sizzled out. Mrs. Alice and Mr. Markov both lined their windows with the same tea lights. They were both obsessive about keeping them lit as soon as darkness fell. The back of my neck prickled with cold and Shadows as I realized they must be some kind of magical defense.
The fact that they’d just failed, spectacularly and simultaneously, couldn’t be good.
The door flew open behind us in a whirlwind of warmth, laughter, and perfume. A small crowd poured across the threshold. They were the most beautiful beings I had ever seen. Dressed for high summer although the air carried a distinct chill, they moved as if nothing so base as the weather could touch them. Their skin was just a little too pale to be called true gold, but they glowed as if they had just walked off a beach. Everything from flowers to gemstones decorated the sun-streaked hair that framed faces on the cutting side of breathtaking.
I couldn’t count how many there were. I was too blinded by their brilliance to look past the ones in front. Erik hadn’t let go of me; the two of us stood frozen, transfixed by the remarkable creatures who stood in The Whitfield Coffee Shop. The one in the very front, a male, snapped his head back as if scenting the air.
“Our dearest cousins are not here,” he purred to the female beside him. “How disappointing.” His eyes, when they fixed on me, were green and slitted horizontally like a cat’s. My brain felt foggy and slow. Caught by his terrifying beauty, I thought of words like sharp and cut along with please and beautiful . I had never wanted to please anything or anybody more than I did this creature in front of me. I would have done anything he asked of me. Anything at all.
“No matter,” the female said, equally mesmerizing. “Our arrival shall surely bring one, or both, of them. If not, Saran can track
Sure enough, my ice princess co-worker stood at the top of the stairs with a lantern, wearing a cloak that looked like a reject from a Renaissance Faire. Nicolas stood at her right elbow, holding a sword. Nic… with a sword? My mouth opened and shut like a doomed fish. Explanations presented themselves, each crazier than the last, until I realized there was no way I could explain drawing his friend, a person I’d never seen. Besides, what if it was somehow actually important to him?
“I got nothing,” I said at last, collapsing back in my chair. He stared at me like he didn’t know whether to call the mental ward or the police. I hauled myself up out of my chair and willed him to believe me. “It comes with the weird eyes, ok? That’s all I can say.” I handed him the menu. “Take it. The last couple of my drawings have disappeared, and it might be important to you. So please. Take it. Just don’t tell anyone, ok?”
After a very long moment in which I dared not look at him, the drawing slid from my fingers. Strong hands slid under my forearms, supporting me. “Ok,” Erik said simply. I expected fear or suspicion, but saw only acceptance and concern on his plain, honest face. That was it? Ok? He wasn’t going to demand another explanation, or tell me I was crazy?
Suddenly, along the windowsill beside us, every single tea light in its votive holder flared roughly six inches high and sizzled out. Mrs. Alice and Mr. Markov both lined their windows with the same tea lights. They were both obsessive about keeping them lit as soon as darkness fell. The back of my neck prickled with cold and Shadows as I realized they must be some kind of magical defense.
The fact that they’d just failed, spectacularly and simultaneously, couldn’t be good.
The door flew open behind us in a whirlwind of warmth, laughter, and perfume. A small crowd poured across the threshold. They were the most beautiful beings I had ever seen. Dressed for high summer although the air carried a distinct chill, they moved as if nothing so base as the weather could touch them. Their skin was just a little too pale to be called true gold, but they glowed as if they had just walked off a beach. Everything from flowers to gemstones decorated the sun-streaked hair that framed faces on the cutting side of breathtaking.
I couldn’t count how many there were. I was too blinded by their brilliance to look past the ones in front. Erik hadn’t let go of me; the two of us stood frozen, transfixed by the remarkable creatures who stood in The Whitfield Coffee Shop. The one in the very front, a male, snapped his head back as if scenting the air.
“Our dearest cousins are not here,” he purred to the female beside him. “How disappointing.” His eyes, when they fixed on me, were green and slitted horizontally like a cat’s. My brain felt foggy and slow. Caught by his terrifying beauty, I thought of words like sharp and cut along with please and beautiful . I had never wanted to please anything or anybody more than I did this creature in front of me. I would have done anything he asked of me. Anything at all.
“No matter,” the female said, equally mesmerizing. “Our arrival shall surely bring one, or both, of them. If not, Saran can track
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