I was going to have this chapter be from Dairine's point of view, but everyone's demanding an explanation, so to prevent mutiny, I guess I can do that first. Sounds like fun anyway. Onward!
Oh yeah, not mine.
-Kaze Child
"It's not fair to saddle them with this!" The figure protested. "Definitely not now, and not something like THIS-"
"A lot of things aren't fair, and you know who's to blame for THAT." The other voice replied sternly. "We can't allow this to come to pass, and they're the only ones equipped to handle the situation. It's unfortunate that we have to act now," it conceded, noticing the stormy look the other was giving it and trying to appease what was currently a her. "But, we have to move when It moves. Normally a vacation would be allotted to two veteran wizards on an occasion like this, but we can't afford to wait." It made an approximation of a gesture of spread-handed helplessness as She glared menacingly at It. "I'm just the messenger; the others made the decision, so don't get mad with me for it." It hesitated for a tenth of a second, then rushed on. "They also told me to remind you that We can't afford to play favorites."
The One it addressed appeared to be a young woman in her late twenties, with her copper hair tugged back into a disorderly bun and struggling gamely to escape in the dark shadow of the isolated pocket starless space. She had many forms, many names, and many genders, but the way she faced down the messenger now was reminiscent of one of her favorites. Peach's way of ruffling out her feathers to add bulk to her hostility was not unlike the unpleasantly warlike motion of the Power's bunching shoulders under Her loose sweater.
"I think I've got the message."
"Will you abide by it?" The messenger questioned warily. This Girl outweighed him, and not just because She had taken physical form and he had not.
"Tell them that I will. Dai." She snapped curtly, and responding meekly to the dismissal in her voice, the Other One quietly left.
Peach wrinkled her nose into a sneer. Then she sighed. "Looks like I'll be paying a visit to some old friends." She snickered contentedly to herself. "Good thing I already got the 'playing favorites' out of the way."
Kit scowled blackly at his radio, which, for a piece of inanimate equipment, did an impressive job of scowling right back. Tempers had been running high between the two as of late. The stereo was getting older, and no matter how much Kit coaxed, pleaded, and threatened, it would no longer clearly receive any channels except country. Kit HATED country. All his favorite channels had been drowned in static, and while the radio piously claimed not to be able to help it, Kit found those words highly suspect.
"Come on," he muttered wrathfully as he twiddled with the tuning knob. For a second hope surged as he thought he heard the familiar strains of a popular rock song. Then his finger twitched a tiny bit on the dial and the radio picked up a local country station, the signal loud and clear.
Kit suppressed the very unwizardly urge to toss the thing out of his second story window.
Fist clenched, Kit forced himself to take slow, calming breaths. Irritation receding, Kit's brain seized on the words of the song as a distraction, and as their meaning began to filter through he realized with a start that it was not the first time he had heard them. His mood switched immediately from angry to reflective, and he sat almost gingerly on the edge of the bed , starring at his radio, but not seeing it.
The words brought back memories; memories that were surprisingly clear. Maybe it was because they meant so much to him. Although it hadn't been that long ago really....
Everything was gray. The normally open Manhattan sky was nothing but a gray lid today, and gray rain swept down in sheets that kept the viewers eye from seeing anything beyond what was a few feet around him. Kit was late for a consultation, and he was trapped in a car with his father on the road home, traveling at a whopping 30 miles per hour. Kit's father was a cautious driver in the rain, and to make matters worse, he had turned a country station on. Mr. Rodriguez hit a phase every now and then where country music seemed as necessary to survival as food, and Kit knew the suicidal futility of trying to get his dad to change the channel right now. He sighed and thumped his head against the window. His father, bawling along enthusiastically with the singer on the radio, didn't notice.
It was a classically depressing song, but Kit gave it credit for not wailing the same tired line that all sounded like: "My wife/girlfriend/lover left me for someone else! Feel sorry for me!" This time, apparently the guy had never had the girl in the first place.
"She's in love," The guy on the radio sighed with apparently unfeigned emotion. "She's in Love; why can't it be me?" Maybe it was his mood, or the oppressive grayness all around him, but that line caught his attention in an uncomfortable way. It echoed something that had haunted him slightly since that time years ago in Ireland. When they had come back, it had seemed to be the end of it, but close as they were, he wasn't sure that Nita would want to tell the details of any romances she had. For all he knew, there was somebody else. Even though he told himself that it was none of his business, and that even if there was another he should be supportive. More and more time went by, and he became convinced that there was no one, and something inside of him had relaxed, just slightly.
But then this had come up, an international meeting between wizards to discuss general upkeep at Tom and Carl's, and Kit had been invited. It was, in fact, the very same meeting for which he was currently running behind. Tardiness wasn't what was bothering him though. What had been lurking in the back of his mind was the thought of a rough, spear-toting Irish boy who gleamed with a dangerous edge in his mind's eye.
It pained Kit to admit that the other boy scared him. It wasn't that Kit was intimidated by Ronan as so many others clearly were, it was that he seemed all to ready to do battle over something that Kit definitely wanted to keep as his own, but had never actually claimed. He had no idea how to fight this battle..... or even if Nita would want him to fight it. He sighed. Maybe nothing would happen. Or maybe they would get there and Nita and Ronan would take one look at each other and regret what they had been missing.
Kit felt cold. He hated this; hated these feelings inside of himself, hated himself for knowing that if she chose to go with Ronan, or anyone else, he couldn't stand at her side and support her like she would need him to. But, he couldn't do it. She was his partner. He.... 'cared' for her too much. Yeah, 'care' was a good word for it. Lukewarm and nicely dispassionate.
Once more, Kit banged his head against the window.
More than once Kit found himself thanking whatever Power had seen fit to bless him with an impenetrable poker face. He had arrived late, wet, and in a bad mood, and found his partner seated at the kitchen table right next to HIM. Naturally. Nita had greeted him with a smile and a raised eyebrow, and Ronan with a smirk and an inquiry about the weather. Kit didn't see fit to respond. he plopped down into the chair on Nita's other side and ran his fingers through his clinging damp hair.
After apologizing for his lateness and gratefully accepting Tom's offer of a coke and a towel, Kit made an honest effort to pay attention to the conversation, but it all slid around his understanding like water over stone, and when he could manage to bring himself into focus, he found that he had very little to contribute anyway. The girl on his right was a constant distraction. He felt it every time she so much as changed position in her chair.
*This is stupid!* He thought to himself. * I've sat next to her hundreds of times; a lot of them right here. Why does it matter now? It's like...*
Ronan murmured something in her ear, and Nita snickered quietly. Kit was torn between the equally irrational desires of getting up and punching Ronan in the face, and laying his head on is arms and pretending that if he ignored it all long enough, it would go away. He settled for the static compromise of sitting there and doing nothing, starring straight ahead. He pretended not to notice the worried glance that Nita shot him form the corner of her eye, the edge of her mouth tightening and turning down in the smallest of frowns.
Eventually the group broke to take a stretch break, and Nita left to trail behind her aunt at her bidding, casting one last worried glance behind her as she left. Not looking at Ronan, Kit drifted listlessly into the living room, absently stretching, and leaned against the couch, running his fingers through his now dry hair. He was startled to look up and discover someone leaning against the door frame right across from him.
Ronan flashed his teeth in a smile whose purpose was clearly to intimidate, and Kit frowned. He had enough on his mind without some kind of pointless macho stand-off designed to increase Ronan's feelings of self-worth. He considered telling the other boy so, but eventually thought the better of the idea. It would be better all around if he could avoid confrontation. Ronan, however, seemed inclined to leave him little room to maneuver.
"Looks like you've got a problem, Rodriguez." he drawled knowingly. The little things about him had a way of irritating Kit, but when they all came together into the smug package known as Ronan, just looking at him made Kit's head hurt. He wasn't sure how much of that came from his apprehensive jealousy, or actual dislike, but he found his eyes narrowing and his stance turning guarded before he actually thought about it.
"Oh really?"
Sighing exageratedly, the older boy rolled his eyes. "You're so pathetic." Kit opened his mouth to retort hotly but was cut off by Ronan's next sentence. "You're blind if you can't see the way she looks at you."
Kit blinked. "Wha-"
"Think!" he barked in his Irish accent. "She's been trying to get your attention all night and all you've been doing is starring at the God damned table. If you're really that interested in the table, I guess she'd understand, but I think Nita's got it beat for looks."
Choking down his angry reply, Kit grated, "Look, I don't know hat you think, but you're mistaken." Ronan raised his eyebrow skeptically. "I don't... I don't care about her like that-" Kit pressed on over the sound of Ronan's scornfully derisive laughter. "...and even if I did, she doesn't like me."
"Bull!" Ronan spat empathetically. "She "cares" about you. Believe me, I'm in a position to know."
About to demand what the hell that was supposed to mean, he glared at the other boy, and noticed there was something strange about his eyes. The light in them... it didn't seem to reflect quite right... It was like it came from within rather then without....
"Peach?" He asked incredulously.
"About time you figured it out." The Power grunted. "Fly boy here would never say this. He might THINK it, but he wouldn't say it. Some kind of overblown pride issue."
Kit nearly gagged on the idea of Peach accusing someone else of having too much pride. It glared suspiciously at him from behind Ronan's eyes. "Look, this is how it's gonna be," It stalked closer and glowered at him, It's tone not inviting disagreement. "You're gonna tell her how you feel, and then you're going to kiss her, and then you're going to go off and do whatever it is that mated mortals do for the rest of their lives, and stop making her miserable, or I'll have Fly boy here go out and do it, and everyone will be nice and miserable for the rest of their lives." It paused. "And, it'll all be your fault." It added complacently.
"MY fault....!? Look, I-" Kit stopped. The expression on the Power's borrowed face had turned ugly.
"Is this going to cause problems?"
"No, si-, ma-," He gave up and sighed. "Actually it probably will, but I'll do it anyway."
"Of course you will. You might have an opening every other interstellar flux of beating my brother, but you haven't got a chance against me."
*Talk about easier said than done.* He smiled gently to himself as the song ended. *But at least it all worked out for the best.* Complacently he flipped off the radio.
The change in the air alerted him immediately, even though they'd long ago learned to muffle the tell-tale sound of displaced air. He turned around and smiled lovingly at the girl who wore his ring.
"Hey, Nita."
I would've added Nita's part, but that would've made this chapter REALLY long, and I don't type that fast as it is. You'll just have to wait. You WILL wait right? Please? If I ask real nice?
By the way RainbowLite you're right. I've only been reading these books for what? Five years now? I feel like an idiot. I'll repost to fix a few minor problems.
Love to all, but especially to those who like my writing style. ^.^
Oh yeah, not mine.
-Kaze Child
"It's not fair to saddle them with this!" The figure protested. "Definitely not now, and not something like THIS-"
"A lot of things aren't fair, and you know who's to blame for THAT." The other voice replied sternly. "We can't allow this to come to pass, and they're the only ones equipped to handle the situation. It's unfortunate that we have to act now," it conceded, noticing the stormy look the other was giving it and trying to appease what was currently a her. "But, we have to move when It moves. Normally a vacation would be allotted to two veteran wizards on an occasion like this, but we can't afford to wait." It made an approximation of a gesture of spread-handed helplessness as She glared menacingly at It. "I'm just the messenger; the others made the decision, so don't get mad with me for it." It hesitated for a tenth of a second, then rushed on. "They also told me to remind you that We can't afford to play favorites."
The One it addressed appeared to be a young woman in her late twenties, with her copper hair tugged back into a disorderly bun and struggling gamely to escape in the dark shadow of the isolated pocket starless space. She had many forms, many names, and many genders, but the way she faced down the messenger now was reminiscent of one of her favorites. Peach's way of ruffling out her feathers to add bulk to her hostility was not unlike the unpleasantly warlike motion of the Power's bunching shoulders under Her loose sweater.
"I think I've got the message."
"Will you abide by it?" The messenger questioned warily. This Girl outweighed him, and not just because She had taken physical form and he had not.
"Tell them that I will. Dai." She snapped curtly, and responding meekly to the dismissal in her voice, the Other One quietly left.
Peach wrinkled her nose into a sneer. Then she sighed. "Looks like I'll be paying a visit to some old friends." She snickered contentedly to herself. "Good thing I already got the 'playing favorites' out of the way."
Kit scowled blackly at his radio, which, for a piece of inanimate equipment, did an impressive job of scowling right back. Tempers had been running high between the two as of late. The stereo was getting older, and no matter how much Kit coaxed, pleaded, and threatened, it would no longer clearly receive any channels except country. Kit HATED country. All his favorite channels had been drowned in static, and while the radio piously claimed not to be able to help it, Kit found those words highly suspect.
"Come on," he muttered wrathfully as he twiddled with the tuning knob. For a second hope surged as he thought he heard the familiar strains of a popular rock song. Then his finger twitched a tiny bit on the dial and the radio picked up a local country station, the signal loud and clear.
Kit suppressed the very unwizardly urge to toss the thing out of his second story window.
Fist clenched, Kit forced himself to take slow, calming breaths. Irritation receding, Kit's brain seized on the words of the song as a distraction, and as their meaning began to filter through he realized with a start that it was not the first time he had heard them. His mood switched immediately from angry to reflective, and he sat almost gingerly on the edge of the bed , starring at his radio, but not seeing it.
The words brought back memories; memories that were surprisingly clear. Maybe it was because they meant so much to him. Although it hadn't been that long ago really....
Everything was gray. The normally open Manhattan sky was nothing but a gray lid today, and gray rain swept down in sheets that kept the viewers eye from seeing anything beyond what was a few feet around him. Kit was late for a consultation, and he was trapped in a car with his father on the road home, traveling at a whopping 30 miles per hour. Kit's father was a cautious driver in the rain, and to make matters worse, he had turned a country station on. Mr. Rodriguez hit a phase every now and then where country music seemed as necessary to survival as food, and Kit knew the suicidal futility of trying to get his dad to change the channel right now. He sighed and thumped his head against the window. His father, bawling along enthusiastically with the singer on the radio, didn't notice.
It was a classically depressing song, but Kit gave it credit for not wailing the same tired line that all sounded like: "My wife/girlfriend/lover left me for someone else! Feel sorry for me!" This time, apparently the guy had never had the girl in the first place.
"She's in love," The guy on the radio sighed with apparently unfeigned emotion. "She's in Love; why can't it be me?" Maybe it was his mood, or the oppressive grayness all around him, but that line caught his attention in an uncomfortable way. It echoed something that had haunted him slightly since that time years ago in Ireland. When they had come back, it had seemed to be the end of it, but close as they were, he wasn't sure that Nita would want to tell the details of any romances she had. For all he knew, there was somebody else. Even though he told himself that it was none of his business, and that even if there was another he should be supportive. More and more time went by, and he became convinced that there was no one, and something inside of him had relaxed, just slightly.
But then this had come up, an international meeting between wizards to discuss general upkeep at Tom and Carl's, and Kit had been invited. It was, in fact, the very same meeting for which he was currently running behind. Tardiness wasn't what was bothering him though. What had been lurking in the back of his mind was the thought of a rough, spear-toting Irish boy who gleamed with a dangerous edge in his mind's eye.
It pained Kit to admit that the other boy scared him. It wasn't that Kit was intimidated by Ronan as so many others clearly were, it was that he seemed all to ready to do battle over something that Kit definitely wanted to keep as his own, but had never actually claimed. He had no idea how to fight this battle..... or even if Nita would want him to fight it. He sighed. Maybe nothing would happen. Or maybe they would get there and Nita and Ronan would take one look at each other and regret what they had been missing.
Kit felt cold. He hated this; hated these feelings inside of himself, hated himself for knowing that if she chose to go with Ronan, or anyone else, he couldn't stand at her side and support her like she would need him to. But, he couldn't do it. She was his partner. He.... 'cared' for her too much. Yeah, 'care' was a good word for it. Lukewarm and nicely dispassionate.
Once more, Kit banged his head against the window.
More than once Kit found himself thanking whatever Power had seen fit to bless him with an impenetrable poker face. He had arrived late, wet, and in a bad mood, and found his partner seated at the kitchen table right next to HIM. Naturally. Nita had greeted him with a smile and a raised eyebrow, and Ronan with a smirk and an inquiry about the weather. Kit didn't see fit to respond. he plopped down into the chair on Nita's other side and ran his fingers through his clinging damp hair.
After apologizing for his lateness and gratefully accepting Tom's offer of a coke and a towel, Kit made an honest effort to pay attention to the conversation, but it all slid around his understanding like water over stone, and when he could manage to bring himself into focus, he found that he had very little to contribute anyway. The girl on his right was a constant distraction. He felt it every time she so much as changed position in her chair.
*This is stupid!* He thought to himself. * I've sat next to her hundreds of times; a lot of them right here. Why does it matter now? It's like...*
Ronan murmured something in her ear, and Nita snickered quietly. Kit was torn between the equally irrational desires of getting up and punching Ronan in the face, and laying his head on is arms and pretending that if he ignored it all long enough, it would go away. He settled for the static compromise of sitting there and doing nothing, starring straight ahead. He pretended not to notice the worried glance that Nita shot him form the corner of her eye, the edge of her mouth tightening and turning down in the smallest of frowns.
Eventually the group broke to take a stretch break, and Nita left to trail behind her aunt at her bidding, casting one last worried glance behind her as she left. Not looking at Ronan, Kit drifted listlessly into the living room, absently stretching, and leaned against the couch, running his fingers through his now dry hair. He was startled to look up and discover someone leaning against the door frame right across from him.
Ronan flashed his teeth in a smile whose purpose was clearly to intimidate, and Kit frowned. He had enough on his mind without some kind of pointless macho stand-off designed to increase Ronan's feelings of self-worth. He considered telling the other boy so, but eventually thought the better of the idea. It would be better all around if he could avoid confrontation. Ronan, however, seemed inclined to leave him little room to maneuver.
"Looks like you've got a problem, Rodriguez." he drawled knowingly. The little things about him had a way of irritating Kit, but when they all came together into the smug package known as Ronan, just looking at him made Kit's head hurt. He wasn't sure how much of that came from his apprehensive jealousy, or actual dislike, but he found his eyes narrowing and his stance turning guarded before he actually thought about it.
"Oh really?"
Sighing exageratedly, the older boy rolled his eyes. "You're so pathetic." Kit opened his mouth to retort hotly but was cut off by Ronan's next sentence. "You're blind if you can't see the way she looks at you."
Kit blinked. "Wha-"
"Think!" he barked in his Irish accent. "She's been trying to get your attention all night and all you've been doing is starring at the God damned table. If you're really that interested in the table, I guess she'd understand, but I think Nita's got it beat for looks."
Choking down his angry reply, Kit grated, "Look, I don't know hat you think, but you're mistaken." Ronan raised his eyebrow skeptically. "I don't... I don't care about her like that-" Kit pressed on over the sound of Ronan's scornfully derisive laughter. "...and even if I did, she doesn't like me."
"Bull!" Ronan spat empathetically. "She "cares" about you. Believe me, I'm in a position to know."
About to demand what the hell that was supposed to mean, he glared at the other boy, and noticed there was something strange about his eyes. The light in them... it didn't seem to reflect quite right... It was like it came from within rather then without....
"Peach?" He asked incredulously.
"About time you figured it out." The Power grunted. "Fly boy here would never say this. He might THINK it, but he wouldn't say it. Some kind of overblown pride issue."
Kit nearly gagged on the idea of Peach accusing someone else of having too much pride. It glared suspiciously at him from behind Ronan's eyes. "Look, this is how it's gonna be," It stalked closer and glowered at him, It's tone not inviting disagreement. "You're gonna tell her how you feel, and then you're going to kiss her, and then you're going to go off and do whatever it is that mated mortals do for the rest of their lives, and stop making her miserable, or I'll have Fly boy here go out and do it, and everyone will be nice and miserable for the rest of their lives." It paused. "And, it'll all be your fault." It added complacently.
"MY fault....!? Look, I-" Kit stopped. The expression on the Power's borrowed face had turned ugly.
"Is this going to cause problems?"
"No, si-, ma-," He gave up and sighed. "Actually it probably will, but I'll do it anyway."
"Of course you will. You might have an opening every other interstellar flux of beating my brother, but you haven't got a chance against me."
*Talk about easier said than done.* He smiled gently to himself as the song ended. *But at least it all worked out for the best.* Complacently he flipped off the radio.
The change in the air alerted him immediately, even though they'd long ago learned to muffle the tell-tale sound of displaced air. He turned around and smiled lovingly at the girl who wore his ring.
"Hey, Nita."
I would've added Nita's part, but that would've made this chapter REALLY long, and I don't type that fast as it is. You'll just have to wait. You WILL wait right? Please? If I ask real nice?
By the way RainbowLite you're right. I've only been reading these books for what? Five years now? I feel like an idiot. I'll repost to fix a few minor problems.
Love to all, but especially to those who like my writing style. ^.^