By Moonlight Wrought (Bt Moonlight Wrought) (46 page)

         Alanna sat on Selric’s lap, while the men
stared at each other.   “Well?” Mendric asked.

         “Well, what?” Selric replied.

         “Is that the note?”

         “Yes.”

         “What are you going to do?” asked
Mendric.

         “I haven’t a clue.  Start looking, I
guess.  With this.”  He reached over and grabbed the writ.  Mendric released
it.

         “Keep me informed,” Mendric said.  “I’d
like to help, but investigating is not my business, and I’m still a little
swamped with the estate.  If you find this guy, let me know, and I’ll dispatch
him promptly.”  Selric nodded and rose, setting Alanna down and walking off. 
She trotted after.

         “Selric, what is all this talk?  Is that
why you’ve been so preoccupied?” Alanna asked.

         “Bah…it’s nothing my dear,” he said with
a shake of his head.  “I don’t want you to know anything about it.  I’ll take
care of it, and you stay in this house until I say different,” Selric said very
sternly.  Alanna looked belligerently at him.  “If you love and care for me...”
he added, his anger fading and concern evident as he raised his finger in her
face, “...I have enough worries without adding your safety to it.”  Alanna
smiled slightly and nodded in obedience, leaning in and setting her cheek to
his shoulder.  She felt capable of taking care of herself.  Being a pampered
noble lass was unfamiliar to her, but she could grow to love it.  That was what
worried her.

         The five friends sat in the booth at
The
Unicorn’s Run
once more, Cinder in the corner; Fiona, then Selric on one
side.  Melissa, then Dirk on the other.  They had all nearly forgotten their
troubles, hoping since the Watch was now fully on the hunt, maybe things would
be safer:  that they would not have to find, confront and kill the massive
Fiend.  They drank and discussed their adventures and the other strange things
that had happened in their lives.  Cinder, as usual, flirted with the most
handsome of the men in the bar, ignoring her friends’ conversations.  But every
meeting she returned to be with those she loved.  She simply liked being there,
being cared for and thought about after she made love to them, after she left,
after all was said and done; being desired because she thought differently and
did things differently.  She was ever -pleasant, ever-supportive and
ever-loving.  These were traits Cinder herself had come to nary appreciate, but
if her friends liked these facets of her, she knew that they truly liked her
inside, as a person, not just her heavenly flesh.

         No one spoke of the Fiend or what they
were going to do about him, It.  They didn’t speak of the future at all.  The
present and the past were all they cared about this night.  But Fiona and Dirk
knew that It still preyed upon Selric’s mind; he was quiet and distant at
times, coming back to his amiable nature as if forcing himself.  That evening,
though, he felt more at ease than he had since that last meeting with It, just
as he had that day in Alanna’s arms and it reflected in his calming mood.  The
“wolf” attack worried him and he knew it was more than coincidence; the
creatures were more than wild wolves that had found some underground way into
the city, but he refrained from speaking of it. 

         The friends spent two consecutive nights
in this way, reveling in each others’ company.  The second night, Cinder even
paid attention to them, telling them of things elven, and answering questions
about the differences such as, “What’s the biggest difference between elves and
humans?” Fiona had asked.   Cinder thought for a moment.

         “Relationships to other beings,” she
answered.  “Elves view humans as children, some good, some bad, but all have
goodness inside them somewhere:  children who still have much growing to do
before they can be accepted as equals.  We take joy in other creatures, especially
the innocent woodland animals, driven by nature, not personal desires.  These
are who we seek to dwell with, but we’ll take creatures like humans in small
doses.  Humans, however, view themselves as the masters of the world, with all
other beings subject to their interpretations of what life is and how life will
exist.”

         “That’s a very dark view of us, Cinder,”
Selric said.

         “But you agree,” Cinder said arrogantly. 
He nodded slowly.

         “Most of us,” Selric said.

         “Most,” Cinder agreed with a friendly smile.

         “What about half-elves?” asked Fiona. 
“How different are you?”

         “Oh,” Cinder smiled proudly, “we’re much
different than both our parent races.  We’re much more passionate to all
others.”

         “I believe it,” Dirk said quietly. 
Cinder smiled slyly at him.

         “This comes from the very fiber of our
nature: the love required to create life from two such diverse peoples.  We
have the curiosity of humans with the patience of the long-lived Faeries. 
We’re semi-empathic, able to feel strong emotions in all others, though I found
that alcohol negates this, which is why I like it so much.  It blocks out
everyone else’s feelings, which naturally puts me more in tune with my own;
heightening my own passions.  Some sages believe that if strongly enough moved,
we can actually send out emotion, and influence others.  Like, if I were
feeling very passionate, they think it would make my mate feel heightened
passion in his or herself.”  She smiled slyly at each of them.

         “Is that why it’s so...” Dirk started,
then fell silent.  Cinder nodded and smiled.

         “What did you like before coming to
Andrelia?” Selric asked.  “What kind of things did you do when you were with
the elves?”

         “Well,” she thought, “let’s see.  Mm,
well.  I liked walking in the forest, and small animals, singing in the
sunshine on a grassy knoll.  There was a calm pool surrounded by the most
beautiful violet flowers where I loved to dip my feet and commune with nature.  Elven
things.  That’s how I was raised, but when I met humans, I was so intrigued
that they influenced my likes and how I thought.  I think now I’m more human
than elven, but I don’t know for how long.  I don’t know how long this human
passion can continue.”

         “Hopefully not long,” Dirk mumbled.

         “Why?” she asked sweetly.  “Don’t you
like the way I am when we make love?” 

         Dirk shrugged and looked embarrassed. 
“Yeah,” he then said dumbly, “but it would be different if you weren’t so
passionate with everyone.” 

         Cinder smiled and shrugged helplessly. 
“I can’t stop.  Not yet.  There’s so much more I need to know about you, all of
you; humans I mean.  To you, all passion stems from your drive to procreate; to
mate.  To control that passion in myself would put limits on all my other
feelings and separate me even farther from the ones I wish to learn about.  I
truly do it to sympathize, to be like you all, not for the physical pleasure of
it, Dirk, though I cannot deny that it feels unbelievably wonderful.”  She
looked sincerely at him, her brows raised.  “To ask me to stop studying this
way would be like asking you to not adventure again.”

         “I would,” he said seriously without
hesitation, to the surprise of them all.  “If you’ll stop, I will.”  Cinder
smiled at his earnestness and the fact that he cared so much that he would give
up his dreams.  “You’re gonna get hurt one of these days,” he said scowling.

         “Oh, Dirk.  You worry too much,” she
said, reaching past Melissa to gently stroke his cheek.  “No one would want to
hurt me, not in a bad way.  Our adventure showed that.  Those ratmen didn’t
hurt me, did they?  They treated me like some goddess.”

         “So you won’t settle down and stop being
such a...” he stopped himself, just short of saying something he meant but
never said, not wanting to hurt Cinder’s feelings.

         “What?” she asked, “a slut, whore, sleeze,
tramp?  What word did you have in mind?  Even if I had as much ‘sex’ with as
many people as you seem to think, what is so horrible about it?  What is so
wrong in sharing intimacy with another?  Is it so different than a shared
conversation, coming together in body instead of in mind.  Why is it a thing to
be hidden behind doors and walls and frowned upon when it is so very natural
and part of the world?  Someday I may see it with your eyes, but sitting here
right now I cannot fathom it.  Making intimacy into something to be shunned
baffles me beyond reason.”  She looked, not unhappily, at him, a look of
skeptical curiosity on her face.  Dirk shook his head in abstinence and refused
to continue speaking about it.  Cinder smiled in understanding at his frustration,
as he gazed down at the table.  Melissa fidgeted between them.  Melissa
wondered then why Dirk was so worried about making Cinder chaste when Melissa
was what he seemed to be looking for in that regard.

         “Dirk, maybe it will wear off soon,” Fiona
said, having heard enough.  “She hasn’t even been around humans a year yet,
give her a chance.”  Cinder didn’t necessarily agree, but if Fiona’s words gave
Dirk some security, she didn’t want to dash it, so she smiled at him serenely. 
Dirk returned her pleasant look.

         “Is that why you’re still here?  Sex?”
Dirk asked.

         “Curiosity about humans and the way they
live.  I told you thirty seconds ago,” she said, then looked straight into
Dirk’s eyes.  “And, because I love the four people sitting at this table. 
Can’t you feel it?  It is very strong.  If the sages were right, then you
should feel some inexplicable affinity toward me.”  She grinned as if she knew
he did, and indeed, she saw his face brighten.

         “Is that what your part is?” Dirk
uttered, not knowing really what it was he meant, but his mind went back to his
lonely walk the night he decided that his friends were worth all of their bad
traits, because of how much they all cared for each other.

         “Why are
you
here?” Cinder asked
Dirk.

         “I guess it was because I had nowhere
else to go,” he said.  “But now...I like all of you, and I want to be with
you.”  His discomfort at baring his soul was obvious on his face.

         “But what do you want to do?  What are
you hiding from?” Cinder asked, probing.  At first Dirk played ignorant, but
under her eyes he felt compelled to answer.  Cinder, however, said it for him. 
“Loneliness.  You’re afraid of being alone, and you cling to us.”

         “That’s not true,” he said angrily,
though he knew, he felt inside, that she was right.  “I like you all,” he
objected, as if to deny he were there only for selfish reasons.

         “We know,” Cinder said softly, and Dirk
fell silent.  “A man who is admired by other men and desired by women feels
alone unless in our company.  You do not find that odd?  You do not think there
is some destiny in that?” Cinder asked as if she knew something they did not.

         “I dunno,” Dirk said, looking at her
curiously.  “What do you think?” he asked, wanting Cinder to share her
insight. 

         But Cinder instead turned to Fiona.  “Fiona?”
Cinder asked.

         “What?” she said nervously, blushing.

         “Your reason?” Cinder pressed.

         “Come on, Fiona” Selric said, laughing. 
“Out with it.”

         “Only if Selric goes first,” she argued
and then Selric grew red, but continued to smile.

         “All right.  All right,” he said nodding
his head at her.  “Why am I here?  What am I hiding from?  Well...my family, I
suppose.”

         “Deeper,” Cinder murmured.

         “Now wait a minute,” he protested,
laughing nervously.

         “I quit,” Fiona said, trying to get out
of the booth and realizing perhaps Cinder was more elven, more intuitive and
magical than she portrayed.  “I have some things to do.”                     

         “Not so fast,” Selric said, holding
Fiona’s slight and firm backside tightly to his lap as she tried to climb over
him.

         “Selric, we’re waiting,” Dirk—of all
people—said, eager to learn something about his friends.

         “All right. All right,” Selric repeated.

         “You said that already,” Cinder teased.

         “Okay.  Fine.”  He fell silent for a
moment, then began to speak softly, “Since I was little, I’ve had this
great...great...weight on me.  “Selric, you’re a Stormweather.  You’re going to
be a knight and do what is right.  You are going to get married to a nice noble
girl, have three kids, serve the King, and uphold the family name,” they told
me all day, everyday.  There was no leeway.  I had no choices in my life at
all.  It was all laid out.  One road; one long straight road with no turnoffs
anywhere.  Just go straight and uphold the family name.  So I started to fail.”

         “I can’t imagine you failing at
anything,” Dirk said just as softly.

         “Not on purpose, anyway,” Fiona added.

         “No, not on purpose,” Selric said,
managing a smile.  “It could have been not so much because I felt trapped, so
much as I was afraid to fail; to not live up to my parents expectations; the
expectations and demands of the entire Stormweather lineage.  If I failed on
purpose I would not fail because I had not been good enough at it, but because
I wanted to.  So I failed out of warrior academy, several churches where I was
to be a priest, fencing school, architecture.  School after school.  I did so
well navigating my return voyage from the East, I was ready to fail that, so
that I wouldn’t have to do it for the rest of my life, but I greedily wanted to
return and to fail at that would have delayed my arrival,” he said, laughing
raucously yet nervously.  His voice fell and he continued.  “Me, a twenty-four
year old man, purposely failing an occupation I have mastered, simply to keep
from doing what my parents hope I will.   I really don’t know what I’m doing. 
I’m running so fast, I can’t see where I’ve been, where I’m at, and I don’t
care where I’m going, just that I’m flying along, away from everything.”