My gaze went three houses down to find Keasley outside enjoying the fall weather, raking leaves. Great, hed seen me tear into here like a bunny on fire. Jenks, I said suddenly. Im going to do the talking. Not you.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, he said, and I fixed my gaze on him with a threatening sharpness.
I mean it. Ceri might not have told him yet.
The hum of his wings dropped in pitch, though he didnt lose a millimeter of height. Okay, he said hesitantly.
My boots hit the sidewalk and the dappled pattern of sun that made it through the colored leaves still clinging to the dark branches. Keasley is Leon Bairn? I thought as I looked him over. Leon was the only other person besides me to quit the I.S. and survive, though hed apparently had to fake his death to do it. I was guessing that Trent knew it because he had helped. He would have been about fifteen then, but just coming into his parents legacy and eager to show his stuff.
I glanced at Jenks, remembering how mad the pixy had been when I hid from him that Trent was an elf. If Keasley was Leon, then he was a runner. And Jenks wouldnt violate that trust for anything.
Jenks, can you keep a secret? I said, slowing when Keasley saw us and stopped his work to lean on his rake. The old man suffered from arthritis so badly that he seldom had the stamina for yard work, despite the pain charms Ceri made for him.
Maybe, the pixy said, knowing his own limits. I gave him a sharp look, and he grimaced. Yeah, Ill keep your lame-ass secret. What is it? Trent wears a man-bra?
A smile quirked my lips before I grew serious. Keasley is Leon Bairn.
Holy crap! Jenks said, a burst of light glowing against the bottom of the leaves. I take the afternoon off, and you find out Ceris pregnant and sharing a roof with a dead legend!
I grinned at him. Trent was chatty today.
No fairy-ass kidding. His wings went silver in thought. So why did Trent tell you?
I shrugged, running my finger against the thump-bump of the chain-link fence surrounding Keasleys yard as I walked. I dont know. To prove he knew something I didnt? Did Jih tell you that shes shacked up with a pixy buck?
What!
His wings stopped and my palm darted out with a flash of adrenaline, but he caught himself before he could drop into my palm. Jenks hovered, his face a mask of parental horror. Trent? he squeaked. Trent told you? And when I nodded, he turned his gaze to the front gardens of the house, just starting to show the grace of a pixy presence even in the fall. Sweet mother of Tink, he said. I have to talk to my daughter.
Without waiting for my reply, he darted away, only to jerk to an abrupt halt at the fence. Slipping several inches in height, he yanked a pixy-size red bandanna from a pocket and tied it about his ankle. It was a pixys version of a white flag: a promise of good intention and no poaching. Hed never worn it before when visiting his daughter, and the acknowledgment of her new husband had to be bittersweet.
His wings a dismal blue, he zipped over the house to the backyard where Jih had been concentrating her efforts on building a garden.
Smiling faintly, I raised a hand to Keasleys hail, opened the gate, and entered the yard.
Hi, Keasley, I called, looking him over with a new interest born of knowing his history. The old black man stood in the middle of his yard, his cheap sneakers almost hidden by leaves. His jeans were faded by work, not distressing stones in the wash, and his red-and-black plaid shirt looked a size too big, probably gotten at discount somewhere.
His wrinkles gave his face texture that made his expressions easy to read. The tinge of yellow in his brown eyes had me worried, but he was healthy apart from old age and arthritis. I could tell that hed once been tall; now, though, I could look him eye to eye. Age was beating hard upon his body, but it had yet to touch his mind. He was the neighborhood wise old man and the only one who could give me advice without triggering my resentment.
But it was his hands that I liked the most. You could see how he had lived his entire life in them: dark, spare, knobby with stiffness, but not afraid of work, able to stir spells, stitch vampire bites, and hold pixy children. He had done all three in my sight, and I trusted him. Even if he was pretending to be something he wasnt. Didnt we all?
Good afternoon, Rachel, he called, his sharp gaze coming back from the roofline and Jenkss disappearing trail of pixy dust. You look like a piece of autumn in that sweater.
I glanced down at the black-and-red pattern, never having thought about it before. Thanks. You look good out here raking. Your knees doing okay?
The old man patted the worn spots, squinting in the sun. Theyve been better, but theyve been a lot worse, too. Ceris been in the kitchen a lot lately, trying things out.
I slowed, my feet still on the cracked walk to the front porch. Grass had encroached upon it until it was only eight inches wide. I suppose, I said softly, chasing bad guys all your life can really damage a person. If they arent careful.
He didnt move, going still as he stared at me.
I, uh, talked to someone today, I said, wanting to hear it from him. He said
Who? he rasped, and my face lost its expression. He was frightened. Terrified, almost.
Trent, I said, pulse quickening as I came forward. Trent Kalamack. He acted like hes known for a long time. My shoulders tensed, and the dog barking nearby made me nervous.
Exhaling long and slow, Keasley replaced his fear with a relief so deep I could just about feel it. He has, he said, a shaky hand going over his tight, graying curls. I have to sit down. He turned to his house. It needed new shingles and paint in the worst way. Do you want to sit for a moment?
I thought about Ceri, then Marshal. Then there was the gargoyle Jenks was going on about, too. Sure.
Keasley made his slow way to the sagging porch steps, propping the rake against the rail before easing himself down in stages with a heavy sigh. A basket of cherry tomatoes decorated the railing to be given out for trick-or-treat, and two pumpkins waited to be carved. I gingerly sat beside him, my knees even with my chest. Are you okay? I asked hesitantly when he didnt say anything.
He looked at me askance. You know how to get an old mans heart going, Rachel. Do Ivy and Jenks know?
Jenks, I said, guilt pinching my brow, and he raised a hand to tell me it was all right.
I trust he will keep his mouth shut, he said. Trent gave me the means to stage my death. Actually, all he gave me was the DNA-doctored tissue to smear over my front porch, but he knew.
Gave him tissue? Theres a nice thought. Then you really are My words cut off when his twisted hand landed warningly on my knee. In the street, five sparrows fought over a moth they had found, and I listened to them squabble, hearing in his silence his request that I not even say it. Its been over a decade, I finally protested.
His eyes tracked the birds as one gained the moth and the rest chased the bird across the street. It doesnt matter, he said. Like a murder charge, the file stays open.
I followed his gaze to the church Ivy and I shared. Thats why you moved in across from the church, isnt it? I asked, remembering the day. Keasley had saved my life by removing a delayed combustion charm someone had slipped me on the bus. You figured if I could survive the I.S.s death contract, you might find a way, too?
He smiled to show his yellowing teeth, and he pulled his hand from my knee. Yes, maam. I did. But after seeing how you did it? Keasley shook his head. Im too old to fight dragons. Ill stay Keasley, if you dont mind.
I thought about that, cold despite the sun on us. Becoming anonymous was just something I couldnt do. You moved in the same day I did, didnt you? You really dont know when Ivy rented the church.
No. His eyes were on the steeple, the top hidden behind the trees. But I watched her patterns close that first week, and Im guessing shed been there for at least three months.
My head was going up and down. I was learning a lot today. None of it comfortable. Youre a good liar, I said, and Keasley laughed.
Used to be.
Liar, I thought, and then my mind drifted to Trent. Uh, is Ceri up? I have to talk to her.
Keasley shifted to look at me. In his tired eyes was a deep relief. I had learned his secret and freed him of the necessity to lie to me. But what I think he was the most grateful for was that I didnt think any less of him for it.
I think shes asleep, he said, smiling to tell me he was glad I was still his friend. Shes been tired lately.
Ill bet. Giving him a smile, I stood and tugged my jeans straight. Id long assumed that Ivy had moved in before me, having only pretended to move in the same day to ease my suspicions. Now that I knew the truth, I might confront Ivy about it. Maybe. It didnt necessarily matterI understood her reasons, and that was enough. Sometimes, just let sleeping vamps lie.
I extended a hand to help Keasley rise. Will you tell Ceri I came over? I asked as I held his arm until I knew he had his balance.
The porch creaked behind us, and I whipped my head around. Ceri was standing behind the closed screen door, in a sweaterdress that made her look like a young wife from the sixties. A jumble of emotions hit me as I took in her somber, guilty stance. She didnt look pregnant. She looked worried.
Did Jenks wake you? I said in greeting, not knowing what else to say.
She shook her head no with her arms crossed over her middle. Her long, translucent hair was done up in a complex braid that needed at least two pixies to manage it. Even through the screen I could see her cheeks were pale, her green eyes wide, and her narrow chin raised defiantly. Though delicate and petite, her mind was resilient and strong, tempered by a thousand years of serving as a demons familiar. Elves didnt live any longer than witches, but her life had paused the moment Al took her. My guess was shed been in her midthirties. She was barefoot, as usual, and her purple dress had black and gold accents. They were the colors that Al made her wear, though admittedly, this wasnt a ball gown.
Come in, she said softly, vanishing into the dark house.
I glanced at Keasley. He had a wary sharpness to him, having read my tension and the shame she was hiding under her defiance. Or maybe it was guilt.
Go on, he said, as if wanting us to get this over with so hed know what was the matter.
Leaving him, I went up the stairs, my tension easing as the shelter of the house accepted me. I didnt think shed told him yetwhich meant Id been seeing guilt.
The screen door squeaked, and now, knowing Keasleys past, I was sure the lack of oil was intentional. The scent of redwood struck me as I followed the sound of her fading steps down the low-ceilinged hall, past the front room, the kitchen, and all the way to the back of the house and the sunken living room, added on at some point.
The older house muffled outside sounds, and I stood in the middle of the back living room. I was sure this was where she had gone. My gaze traveled over the changes shed made since moving in: asters arranged in Mason-jar vases, live plants bought off the sale rack and nurtured back to health clustered at the lace-curtained windows, bits of ribbon draped over mirrors to remind wandering spirits not to cross into them, yellowed doilies bought at yard sales decorating the padded arms of the couch, and faded pillows and swaths of fabric disguising the old furniture. The combined effect was clean, comfortable, and soothing.
Ceri? I finally called, not having the slightest idea where she was.
Out here, she said, her voice coming from beyond the door, which was propped open with a potted fig tree.
I winced. She wanted to talk in the gardenher stronghold. Great.
Gathering myself, I headed out to find her seated at a wicker table in the garden. Jih hadnt been tending it very long, but between the enthusiastic pixy and Ceri, the tiny space had gone from a scuffed-up scrap of dirt to a bit of paradise in less than a year.
An old oak tree thicker than I could get my arms around dominated the backyard, multiple swaths of fabric draped over the lower branches to make a fluttering shelter of sorts. The ground under it was bare dirt, but it was as smooth and flat as linoleum. Vines grew above the fence to block the neighbors view, and the grass had been allowed to grow long past the shade of the tree. I could hear water somewhere and a wren singing as if it were spring, not fall. And crickets.
This is nice, I said in understatement as I joined her. There was a teapot and two tiny cups on the table, as if she had been expecting me. I would have said Trent had warned her, but Keasley didnt have a phone.
Thank you, she said modestly. Jih has taken a husband, and he works very hard to impress her.
I brought my attention back from the garden to focus on Ceri and her anxiety. Is that where Jenks is? I asked, wanting to meet the newest member of the family myself.
A smile eased her tight features. Yes. Can you hear them?
I shook my head and settled myself in the bumpy wicker chair. Now, what would be a good segue? So, I hear Jih isnt the only one whos been knocked up.
Ceri reached for the teapot, her motions wary. I imagine this isnt a social call, but would you like some tea?
No, thanks, I said, then felt a tug on my awareness as Ceri murmured a word of Latin and the pot began to steam. The amber brew tinkled into her tiny cup, the click of the porcelain sounding loud among the crickets.
Ceri, I said softly. Why didnt you tell me?
Her vivid green eyes met mine. I thought youd be angry, she said with desperate worry. Rachel, its the only way I can get rid of it.
My lips parted. You dont want it?
Ceris expression blanked. She stared wonderingly at me for a moment. What are we talking about? she asked cautiously.
Your baby!
Her mouth dropped open and she flushed scarlet. How did you find out ?
My pulse had quickened, and I felt unreal. I talked to Trent this afternoon, I said, and when she just sat there, staring at me with her pale fingers encircling her teacup, I added, Quen asked me to go into the ever-after for a sample of elven DNA that predates the curse, and I wanted to know what the rush was. He kind of blurted it out.
Panic filled her, showing as her hand flashed to set her cup down and grip my wrist, shocking me. No, she exclaimed softly, eyes wide and breath fast. Rachel, you cant. You cant go into the ever-after. Promise me right now that you wont. Ever.
Her fingers were hurting me, and I tried to pull away. Im not stupid, Ceri.
Promise me! she said loudly. Right now! You will not go into the ever-after. Not for me. Not for Trent. Not for my child. Never!
I wrenched my wrist away from her, taken aback at her extreme reaction. I had been in the ever-after before, and I wasnt about to go back. I told him no. Ceri, I cant. Someone is summoning Al out of confinement, and I cant risk being off hallowed ground after sunset, much less go to the ever-after.
The pale woman caught her emotions, clearly embarrassed. Her eyes flicked to my reddened wrist, and I hid it under the table. I felt guilty about the stand I was taking to stay out of the ever-after, even if it was a smart decision. I wanted to help Ceri, and I felt like a coward. Im sorry, I said, then reached for the teapot, wanting a cup of something to hide behind. I feel like a pile of chicken crap.
Dont, Ceri said shortly, and my eyes met hers. This isnt your war.
It used to be, I said, my thoughts going to the widely accepted theory that the witches had abandoned the ever-after to the demons three thousand years before the elves gave up. Before that, there was no witch history except what the elves remembered for us, and very little elf history either.
Ceri intercepted my reach for the teapot, pouring it out for me and carefully handing me the cup and saucer with the grace of a millennium of practice. I accepted it and took a sip. It wasnt coffee, but I could still feel the caffeine rush, and I eased into the wicker and crossed my legs. I had time, and Ceri, nervous and flustered, clearly was in no state for me to leave yet.
Ceri, I said, putting a tone of pride in my voice. Youre something else. If I found out that I was pregnant unexpectedly, Id be falling apart. I cant believe Trent did this to you.
Ceri hesitated over her cup, then took a delicate sip. He didnt.
I shook my head. You cant take the blame for this. I know youre a grown woman and you make your own decisions, but Trent is devious and manipulative. He could charm a troll out of her bridge if he tried.
A faint rose color tinged her cheeks. I mean, its not Trentons child.
I stared at her. If it isnt Trents
Its Quens, she said, her eyes on the swaths of fabric fluttering overhead.
B-ButI stammered. Oh, my God. Quen? Suddenly his awkward silences and stiff looks meant something completely different. Trent never said anything! Neither did Quen. They just stood there and let me believe
Its not their place to say anything, Ceri said primly, then set her teacup down with a sharp clink.
The breeze shifted the wispy strands of her hair that had slipped her braid as I realigned my thinking. Thats why Quen had gone behind Trents back to ask for my help. Thats why hed seemed guilty. But I thought you liked Trent, I finally managed.
Ceri made a face. On me it would have looked ugly; on her, it looked comely. I do, she said sourly. He is kind with me, and gentle. He is clever with words and quick to follow my thoughts, and we enjoy each others company. His bloodline is impeccableShe hesitated, her eyes going to her fingers, now sitting still in her lap. A deep breath lifted through her and was gone. And he wont touch me without fear.
My brow furrowed in anger.
Its the demon smut, she said distantly, shame in her gaze darting about. He thinks its the bloody kiss of death. That Im filthy and foul, and that its catching.