Chrysalis Ch14: Glass Cages (pt1) (Patreon)

<- previous

             Little tendrils of mist arc through the air, clinging to skewed chairs and emptied tables. Someone's left a glass by the koi pool. Lanterns flicker. The Glade, still charming, is spent for the night and the buzz of anticipation has gone out of the room.
             L sits down heavily on the nearest chair, stretching her legs forward.  Her calves burn and the heel of her right foot bites with a blister.  Her toes, for their part, are done with being crammed into a pointed toe box.  She glares at the glittering heels on her feet.
             "This is your fault, you know." She informs her shoes, tapping her glossy toes together. They offer no rebuttal. She sighs, allowing her calves a moment to release all the built up weariness from the night.  Her first night.   How was she ever going to do this every n-
             Without warning, a broom cuts through the air an inch in front of her face.
             "CRUMBS ON A BISCUIT” L shouts, nearly falling backwards. She looks up to the broom weilder. “M-Madeline…!  W… where did you-"
             Madeline doesn't respond, instead  gives the broom a second shake, waiting for the gesture to register, her glower having all the impatient irritation of someone slipping behind schedule.
             "Is...everything..." L starts, then realizes what she’s asking.  Reaching out, she takes the broom.  Stands.   Her feet scream out in silent protest.  She ignores them, instead giving Madeline a friendly smile.  "Does this make me an honorary brownie?"
             Madeline snorts, sardonically smiling back with a shrug.  Then she turns on her heel, snatches up her mop and disappears up the copper-plated stairs to the landing.  Le notes Madeline’s leather booted shoes clacking on the metal as she goes.
             “Bleedin Madeline gets to wear bleedin’ flat shoes.”  L grumbles to the nearby light mote.   Her wings lower as she leans on the broom, poking halfheartedly at the small speck of light.
             "Cleanup is on us tonight, yeah?"  Ian calls from behind her.
             “Might as well be back at CroMart."  She answers without turning, starting in on sweepin.  The motion parts the fog and reveals the detritus underneath. A pair of frogs leap into the nearby pool.
             “At least we don't have to front-face the crisps.” Ian cajoles, emerging from the mists with a rag over his shoulder and bucket in his hand. “How was working the floor?”
             “Oh you know.   Only mildly traumatizing.   How did things go with Trystan over at the bar?"
             Ian drops the bucket, a bit of soapy water sloshing out.   “‘Bout as good as one can expect, first night out. Got a long way to go, but honest? This stuff is bleedin fascinating. Collecting memories.  Synthesizing spirits."
             "So you want to steal memories." L frowns, leaning forward and jabbing Ian in the side.   He squirms away with a half laugh.
             "COLLECTING memories mate.  You can still see yours whenever you like.”
             “It’s not the same”  L rolls her eyes.  Despite herself she can’t help but try to recollect the memory, her memory, that Trystan had bottled.   But when she casts her mind back to it it's just not… there. She shivers, releasing a small cloud of silver scales.
             “As for others,” Ian continues, ignoring her protest as he works the tables, “ they sell ‘em clear as spit.  It’s certainly not yer typical line of work, but it beats graveyard at the local convenience, innit?”
             "Yeah, yeah. Just watch that he doesn’t put you in one of those bottles."
             "If either of us is getting stoppered I think that’s you, bruv.”  Ian says. As he speaks, L can't help but notice his gaze. He's staring. Following her exposed legs, then climbing up over her waist and around her chest. Her smirk flickers into a shyer smile. Ian coughs and looks away. "Ey... anyway... the night, it was traumatizin’? With you I mean?  Takin’ the piss I hope?"
             "Mostly.”  L says as she collects the scattered shards of lantern.  “Bit rocky, here and there.  Footwear leaves something to be desired..  but all things considered…"
             She stops. What were her thoughts, all things considered?   It really had gone fine, hadn’t it? She’s exhausted, her feet hurt a bit maybe, stumbling through a job she’s barely started at in a bizarre world she didn’t even know existed a few days ago. She’s been chased, abducted, threatened…changed…
             …and yet here she is. Cleaning floors, like any weeknight. There’s something comforting in that.  And as L turns the thought over in her mind, she’s not sure she even needs the comfort to begin with. In spite of everything that’s happened, being here like this doesn’t feel…wrong. Whether that’s the Lyra in her, or shock, or her just not come to terms with it yet, she can’t say.  But whatever the reason, it makes for a nice change.
             L finishes brooming a section of debris into a small pile, regarding it with a quirk of her antennae. "Haven't seen a dustpan, have you? Save me from having to ask Madeline."
             "Dustpan?" Ian upends a chair onto the nearest table. "Think there's one behind the bar. I can grab it for you?"
             "Cheers, I got it."
             L steps to go and winces.   She can feel the blister on the back of her right foot bite into her.   She’ll just have to push through…

             … or does she?  A different thought interrupts her.   She has a look around the empty hall.  Just the two of them, and even if it wasn’t… she wasn’t on the streets of London, was she?   She was here, in the market, surrounded by a manner of folk many of which are much stranger than a girl with antennae and wings.
             Her expression brightens with an idea, smiling to herself in the way she does when settling on a bit of mischief. Stretching her wings, she flicks them once, twice, then faster until they’re a blur. Faster and faster they go, picking up the air current, until the pressure on her feet leaves her and she’s propelled into the air.  She gives out a half hysterical laugh as she stabilizes, giddy with it.
             Ian leans back against the table openly staring, with awe this time.
             " Was about to say 'seems we’re back at the convenience', then you go an' do that."
             "Well, I could have done this back there, too!  Would have been easier to get at the cobwebs, wouldn’t it?  Save all the stares we might get."
             She settles behind the bar, landing indelicately. Clattering a few steps forward she trips and slams her elbow on the bartop.  The curse is so loud it echoes around the hall.
             “Oy mate!  You alright?”
             “Yeah… bloody fu…  bloody fooking heels! Why does anyone wear these."  She vindictively removes one, looking at it with the vitriol of a spurned lover.
             "Well…” Ian starts, sheepish.  “Looks nice. On the right person.”
             “YOU wear them then.”  L tosses the shoe to the side.
             “I’m not opposed.”  Ian offers.
             L folds herself over the bartop into the shape of a pincushion of bad feelings.   Ian can’t help but smile at the ruffled little moth.
             “Here here, don’ look so morose. It's off hours.  Backpack should be under the counter, over on the right... figured you'd want ‘em."
             L’s eyes light up, and she drops under the counter.   Sure enough, there was Ian’s backpack.   Digging through she finds what he’s talking about, and emerges with her boots held over her head in victory.  She could do a half spin in midair she was so delighted.
             "I have never been so happy to see flat soled shoes. You're a lifesaver, mate." She turns about, lifting herself onto the bar top and sets about kicking off her remaining heel and replacing them with sensible footwear. "What's your plan after we wrap up in here?"
             "To be completely honest, mate, I'm starving. Gonna see what I can get my mitts on in the pantry. Don’t imagine they’d miss a nicked biscuit?”
             "How do I still have to tell you” L throws her heel at him, and he dodges it with a chuckle.“Don’t steal from the fae."
             "Stole you well enough.”
             "Not the same thing.” L grumbles, her ears going pink
             "As you like.” Ian walks over and picks up her shoe, holding it up and waving it back and forth.  "Anyhow, what’s on your docket? Dying for a jumper I’d wager?"
             “How’d you guess?”
             “Knowledge.” He says, tapping at his right temple.
             "Well, finish work out first." L hops off the counter, scooping up the dustpan and returning to her broom.   She could skip, her renewed dextrous footing was such a relief.  She sidles up next to Ian, peering at his work. “Then maybe-”
             Her stomach audibly rumbles. L gives it a self conscious pat. "Then food, yeah. We could ask what to do about that. Maybe we can get an... advance? Or something?  I bet there's food out in the Market. We could go looking, if you like."   She tucks her hair back again, a little more conscious of the motion this time.
             "There’s a wicked idea!" Ian’s face lights up. "Bet a savvy lad can get his hands on all manner of things out there! I'll ask Hedrick or Trystan, see if either can suffer an advance."
             He pauses for a brief, significant moment.
             "... Trystan. I'll ask Trystan for an advance."
             L snickers, then stops. Her wings shiver again, and she leans on the broom. "Great, yeah! We can finally go on and grab that bite together, like we’ve been saying."
             "Go on and- wait, you want to come with?" Ian fidgets nervously, setting aside the chair he was stacking in front of L, subconsciously boxing her in "I figured.... I'd be the one to run out and get supplies. Like we did at your place with your parents, yeah? Safer that way. B-besides, your feet were hurting, right?"
             "Back at my parent’s flat?  We did that to hide, didn't we?   Things are different now.   We have the King’s protection." Her wings flick, and she's in the air again, hovering past the chair blocking her in  and over near Ian's shoulder. "And I don't have to worry about my feet."
             "Yer really posh, y’know?"  Ian looks up at L, his cheeks burning. "What's it... what's it feel like? Doin’ that?  Up in th’ air like that?"
             L moves a little closer, bobbing lower. There’s something in his voice…that mix of longing and wonder. Her antennae droop as she remembers the look on his face when he first asked that. The bitterness in his words when they argued back in the attic. How he declared he was ‘just’ human.
             "Maybe…  I can just show you." Hesitantly, she puts her hands under Ian's arms, her voice dropping to a soft murmur.
             Ian’s ears go pink, suddenly very aware of the small nymph girl’s arms around him.  He can feel the warmth of her body, the curvature of her breasts pressing against his back.  He shakes his head ruefully. "Ch-cheers, mate. Not to toss out the magic carpet ride, but you can't pick me up with both feet planted on the ground. What makes you think you can -"
             "Oh yeah?  Try me!" Her wings flap harder. L starts to rise…and comes to an abrupt halt, her arms straining.  Ian laughs at the absurd gesture, but it only fires her up more.   L’s wings blur. As fast as they're going, they vibrate with a soft, low hum. Something felt more than heard.  And then something happens.
             Ian starts, tensing in surprise. His feet are half a centimeter off the ground.
             "... o-oy, mate! Mate, careful, yer...!"
             " - I'm gonna do it." L grunts, and with another heave of effort the two are haphazardly airborn.  His legs dangle and graze across tabletops as the two drift awkwardly across the hall like a lost balloon.  Ian’s heart starts going as a sudden mix of thrill, fear, and laughter at the absurdity overwhelms him.
             “You’re mad!”  Ian calls back.
             "You. Are experiencing. FLIGHT." L gasps, sweat running down her forehead.  Her left hand loses grip and starts to slip, and she jerks to the left to compensate, but the sudden shift in momentum only throws her more off-balance.  The two spiral sideways, narrowly missing a fountain head, only for Ian's feet catch at an awkward angle.  He pitches forward, and that’s more than enough to send  L wheeling over his shoulders, colliding and splashing directly into basin.
             There’s a brief, busy moment of thrashing beneath the surface before L sits up, blinking water ruefully out of her eyes.

The two are drenched with water and laughter, the stupid grin on L’s face matched only by Ian’s.  A pair of golden fish awkwardly flop off of Ian as he picks himself out of the fountain and offers L a hand up, one she takes, sheepishly letting him help her out of the pool.
             "How many crowbars are you hiding in your shirt?"
             "Bruv you couldn’ carry me even if I was stark bloody naked.”The two emerge, dripping from the fountain.   L looking down at the water pooling on the tiles.
             “Madeline’s gonna be furious.” L says shaking the water out of her dress before stepping out of the pool.
             “Madeline’s always furious.”  Ian crosses his arms.   “Doin her a service, givin’ her a reason to be mad for once.   Figure that’s why she’s called Madeline?   Cuz she’s mad all the time?”
             L spreads her antennae, then gives her head a shake spraying Ian with a fresh bit of springwater.  Ian tugs at her right wing.
             “Go on upstairs and get dried off. I'll get the rest of this cleaned up and see about the food."
             "Wha - Ian..." L half-laughs, stretching out one of her wings. "Still on about that?  I’m going with you.   My wings are just one more reason for a walk about. "
             “You don’t towel dry?”
             “No, I need to air them out when this happens.”   She shakes her head, flicking droplets of water off her antennae, and frowns up at Ian. "What’s this all about, anyhow?  Why is me leaving the Glade such a bleedin’ problem?”
             "Problem?" Ian asks, removing his apron. He twists to squeeze the water out into his cleaning bucket. "It’s not that it’s a problem it’s just… we don’t know what’s it like out there.   Last time you was… bad stuff happened.   So I’d just feel better goin it alone this time.  Once I know it’s safe we can go together, yeah?”
             L crosses her arms. “How’s you going alone in the fae market any different than me strolling around Southwark with a predator on the loose?”
             “I don’t mind the risk.”  Ian shrugs.  “It’s just like old times at the Cromart, innit?  I don’t have to worry about things like you do.”
             "It doesn't have to be like old times at the Cromart! I don't have to hide these!" L's wings tremble, a little cloud of droplets spraying out from the edges. "I don't have to..." L looks away, folding her arms. "...I don't have to just go home this time."
             Ian falls silent, his face shifting into a frown, his brow furrowing.
Gently, as if he's going to break her by touching her, he rests a hand on L's shoulder.
"... L. I... it's..."
             "Taking some time for a dip in the springs?"
             L jolts and Ian looks up in alarm at the cheerful voice. Trystan’s clattering in through the backroom, dusting off a thick green bottle. He nudges another pair of bottles aside, placing it front and center on the mirrored shelves.
             "O-oh! Um. Not - I-I mean, we'll clean it up, we..." L glances at Ian's face, then steps away, edging out from under his hand. "...we were just...working out what we'd do for dinner."
             "Not interrupting, am I? Thinking of taking the lady out?" Trystan asks with a smirk. L gives her head a tiny shake, looking away. Ian flinches, but doesn’t say anything.  Trystan looks between the two, then rubs the back of his head apologetically. "... I feel like I've both got it in one, and totally missed the mark."
             "Please don't worry about it." L flexes her wings slowly to air them out, then returns to the broom. She starts sweeping again, her movements long and forceful. "W-we should probably focus on finishing this."
             "Hey now, there won't be any bad blood on my watch." Trystan says, circling around the counter and lifting himself to tower above both of them. He puts out an arm as L tries to slink away, shaking his head with a breezy smile. “We're a team here. Now tell me what's going on."
             "That was my question." She mutters.
             Glass clinks and glints in the warm light as Trystan lowers himself to her eye level, getting comfortable. He reaches out and plucks a bottle of fluorescent green liquid from his collection, popping the cork to take a quick drink. Sighing in satisfaction he glances at Ian, his antennae lifting.
             Ian looks away. He’s having a hard time maintaining eye contact with either one of them. "L…she's... y'know. Special." He says, smiling out of the corner of his mouth. He fumbles with the cleaning rag, picking anxiously at it.  "We was thinkin’ of goin’ to market, grab somethin’ ta eat.”  Ian sighs, shrugging. "But I haven't been. Don't know if it's safe for… someone like her."
             "Someone like what?  Who’s fae?  Someone who's just made a big public point about being under the King's protection?  In the FAE.  MARKET?" L sniffs. Ian starts guiltily.
             "Y’know tha's not what I meant - “
             "No, I don't." L snaps, her wings flaring up. "I don’t know what your thinking. You keep dodging, I can tell!" She jabs a finger at him. "That's what I used to do! Are you hiding a set of wings under your shirt?"
             Ian jerks away like he’s been struck, and she draws back, realizing she’s overstepped. Before either of them can speak, Trystan shifts, a soft movement that sounds like marbles rolling inside a bag.
             "The lass is right." He says, holding out the bottle to L. She gives it a cautious sniff, then takes it, sipping cautiously. It tastes of melon and quiet reflection.
"Thank you." She says, taking another small drink before holding it out hopefully to the others. Ian hesitantly takes it. Trystan nods approvingly.
             "... Ian, you're just human, and the Market can be dangerous for anyone who doesn’t understand it yet. You’ll need a more experienced guide. Someone who can escort you, if you’re going out."  Trystan smiles disarmingly. "I'm about finished with my work in the back, and I wanted to show you some things in the fresh produce district anyhow. It will be helpful for your work here... and when we get back, we can all have a nice meal together."
             Ian turns over the proposal in his head, before he connects the dots.   "I.... yeah. Yeah, that sounds... arright.  L, if Trystan goes with me, I’ll be safe then.   Does that… is that arright?”
             "Oh." L says, her voice shrinking. She shifts uncomfortably, looking back at the broom in her hands. "Sure."
             Ian frowns at her.   “L… we can go together soon.   I promise.”
             She turns away, busying herself with the dustpile. "I'll just finish this, then. I owe you a few cleanups, anyway."
             Trystan’s hand comes down on her shoulder, patting her fondly.  "Don't be too down about it, lass. A cute thing like you will have plenty of opportunities to be snapped up for the evening. Best to stay in. You've already had quite a night, haven't you?"
             "I guess." L swings the broom back and forth, staring into the mist. "Like you said, I've got enough on my head at the moment, right?"
             Trystan taps her on the antennae. It's like a tiny electric shock through her scalp. L's head jolts up. "H-hey!"  He chuckles and does it again, flicking a finger playfully at her.  She ducks, her wings waving feebly. "What's that for?!"
             Trystan draws himself up again, his shell of bottles twisting and clinking to accommodate his full height. “Just trying to knock some nonsense out of your head." Trystan eases out and away from the counter, weaving slowly between the tables. "I'll be out front when you’re ready, Ian. Make yourself comfortable, little nymph. We won't be long."
             With that, he clatters up the steps, far faster than he should have been able to. L huffs after him, then turns away, shaking her head.
             "Bet he wouldn't like it if I flew up and tapped him on the - “  She trails off, noticing Ian’s demeanor.   He’s gone quiet.   “Ian?"
             Ian’s remained where he is, holding the bottle. He smiles down at it, a little wistfully.  "Y'know, they say drinking off the same bottle as someone is a bit like an indirect kiss."
             He grins playfully up at her, then tilts it back, taking a long drag. L blinks, her wings half-flaring, as Ian gets to his feet. He reaches down, pushing the bottle into her unresisting hands, and turns for the stairs.
             "... see you soon, little nymph."

continue reading ->

+++++++++++

Thanks for reading along!   
Be sure to check in Friday May 20th to read
Ch14: Glass Cages (pt2)