Squinting past the smoke, he swigged from the bottle in his hand. The smooth burn went down his throat and he sighed before hauling back to hurl the bottle toward the flames. They licked higher where the bottle crashed against the stone and he turned to the man next to him.

"From here on out I'm sober. Stone cold."

"What a way to tell the world." The other man coughed over the smoke, covering his mouth as he came closer. "When did you start this?"

"About an hour ago." The first man blinked at the smoke, "I didn't realize how high the alcohol content was in some of those bottles. But they were old so I shouldn't be so surprised."

"It is a lot of time to ferment."

"Yep."

They stood in silence a moment before the second man coughed past the smoke to speak again. "Did you mean to-"

"Take down the whole house?" The first man nodded. "Yes."

"But it's a gorgeous house and-"

"I meant to burn the entire thing to the ground and I'll watch until the last ember smolders to cinders."

"That's a… A bit extreme, John."

"It's what had to be done." John rolled his shoulders, "I do hope you're not going to call anyone out here for an assessment Rob."

"Considering you'd asked me to help you sell this place and now you've burned it to shit I think I need to." Rob sighed, "I'll have to get an arson investigator."

"That's fine." John lifted his arms as if outlining a press release in the sky. "Insane owner of old Scottish estate burns it to the ground in drunken rage."

"You're not mad."

"Or in a rage." John sighed, "I'm completely lucid."

"Shame though."

"Which part?"

"The part where you burned an old Scottish estate." Rob kicked at a pebble. "Crags was a feature in this area. It was almost a public landmark last year and one of the finest pieces of property in the county."

"Didn't make it a less shitty place to grow up." John frowned, turning to Rob. "What are you doing out here anyway?"

"Saw the smoke and thought I should make sure you weren't dead."

"Not yet." John sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets. "He is though."

"He's…"

"Dead, Rob. As a doornail." John's jaw set. "I watched it happen."

"You didn't make it happen, yes? Because if you did, as your lawyer, I'd advise you not to tell anyone else about it so I have-"

"I didn't kill my father Robert." John's jaw slackened slightly, "Much as I wanted to on more than one occasion."

"I'll be one of the first to say I'm immensely pleased you didn't." Robert's jaw flexed, as if his tongue rolled potential words inside his mouth. "But since you didn't kill your father, did burning down the house made you feel better about his death?"

"Nothing about this place'll ever make me feel better." John shook his head, "I can't even burn down the whole thing. With as much stone as it is I've only destroyed the interior he modernized ten years ago."

"Destroyed a lot of heritage when he did that."

"Like he gave two shits about heritage." John shook his head, "Bastard only ever cared about what looked good to him."

"As the executor of his estate, I can tell you that his portfolio looked good to him." Robert pointed toward the flickering inferno. "It could pay for the reno if you were interested in trying to restore and-"

"I don't care about renovating this place." John jabbed a finger at the fire. "I just wanted to bring it all down. And if I can't get the walls to tumble then I'll coat what's left all in black soot."

"And I'll have to sell the ashes?"

John shrugged, "Maybe. I've no idea. I didn't exactly think that far ahead in this whole venture. It was mostly 'light the match and go for it'… strictly speaking."

"I'll still need the investigator to come out."

"I know." John let out another breath, "But I needed to burn this to the ground. To leave nothing of what was there behind. Make sure it couldn't haunt another soul like it haunted me."

"I always said that you should've been a poet." Robert put a hand on John's shoulder. "Not that you couldn't punch a man straight into a blackout but your skills were always more toward the literary."

"When one door opens, another one shut hard enough behind you to bite you right on the ass." John shook his head, "Whatever I am, he made me into."

"I'm sure that's not true." Robert spluttered for a moment. "I met your mother. That woman was imposing and frightening and-"

"Nothing like your mother Rob, stop projecting." John nudged Rob with his shoulder before growing somber again. "My mother was never one to spare the rod but my father broke one over my ass more times than I can count. Beat me until I was sure there was more blood in those floorboards than nails. And still…"

They stood in silence for a few more minutes as the flames in the house settled and slowly lost some of their earlier strength. Even when another glass shattered the roar only rang as dull instead of deafening. John let out another breath and faced Robert.

"I'm going to guess that you actually drove out here to talk about the notice I left on your desk."

"I'll be honest, I only knew about the flames when I was halfway up your imbecilically long drive." Robert reached into his coat and handed John a sealed letter. "I didn't open it because I won't accept it."

"It was time Robert." John did not take the envelope. "You and I both know that anyone in that firm only hires me for the name."

"And what a surprise to all those other wig-wearing dandies who think they're going up against a bruiser and they get someone with your intellect." Robert tapped John on the head with the letter before forcing it into his hand. "I didn't hire you because I wanted 'Bruiser-Buster-Bleeder Bates'. I hired you because I wanted John Bates my friend and lawyer."

"No one was more shocked than my father when I made Silk." John shook his head, turning the letter in his hands. "But I'm not myself Robert. Not even…"

"After burning your family's ancestral home down?" Robert shrugged, "That doesn't worry me as much as you may think."

"No?"

"No." Robert winced, "The drinking did. And you giving your case loads to your trainees and only showing up for final arguments was… That was worrying me. But you kept up. You did your job. And even with you burning down your house I think it's more a cry for help than time for me to wash my hands of you."

"Then you've got more patience for me than I do for me."

"We all know that's true." Robert put a hand on John's shoulder. "Look. Take time. You've not taken any since you started working for our chambers and it's… It's showing, John. Take the time to mourn your father-"

"I don't need to mourn that-"

"However you see fit to do it, do that." Robert held John's gaze. "Mourn your father, take your leave, and don't come back to my office until you're sure of what you want. Be that to quit and live as a hermit in that cabin you've got built out here or to take on every rapist and murderer in England as you fight them in court."

Robert took a breath before he released John's shoulder. "Just decide what you want for a change. Take the time you need to know what you want."

John inhaled deeply, sniffing strongly to coat his nasal passages with the smoke of his ruined home, and let out a breath. "I'm afraid to find out what that might be. I've spent so long doing what everyone else wanted me to do. Boxing champion like my father. Lawyer like my grandfather. I've never… I've never asked myself what I want."

"Then I guess that's task number one." Robert shivered. "Now can we get somewhere I'm not going to freeze my balls off? My wife rather likes them as they are and, speaking honestly, I do too."


He peeked out from the bushes, watching a shape sliding smoothly through the water. The shape took on definition as it reached his shores and he crouched lower into the brush when a woman emerged from the water. Her slim hands smoothed back her wet hair so it caught the light and burned gold as she left the water to walk the pebbled beach. Walk it as naked as any of the animals that roamed the tiny island.

But he had never seen an animal walk as gracefully as she did.

For all the lessons taught to him as a child, he could not pull himself away. He watched as she lay back on a rock and closed her eyes to catch the light. The way her arms splayed, her hair continued to glint and shine, and the golden hue of her skin under the sun's rays forced him to move.

Move as if compelled to be closer to her, even if for a moment. Even if all he could do was see her more clearly. That would be enough.

Enough to distract him from concentrating on where he placed his feet. For all the years of moving quietly between the trees, leaving nary a trace of his existence, his foot trod too heavily and a branch broke under him. The snap echoed around him and nowhere more loudly than in his ears.

And hers.

She sat up, her legs moving to her chest and her arms wrapping around them as if to cover herself from anyone looking. He bit his lip, realizing it was too late for slinking back into the trees and hoping she did not notice. So he chose to emerge from the cover of the forest and moved to where she could see him clearly. Where they could finally see one another.

The gasp of surprise from her, as she rolled off the rock and used it as a barrier between them… and as a cover for her lack of clothing, almost sent him back to hide. But he kept his position, refusing to move. She stared at him, the hiss of her sharp breathing almost grating at his ears until she spoke.

"Who are you?"

"I live here." He pointed. "I guard these shores."

"What's your name?"

"I…" He paused, frowning. "I don't have a name."

"What?"

"I do not have a name."

"You…" Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Everyone has a name."

"Perhaps they do but I do not." He managed a little smile, "At least, not like you do. It's more of a… I honestly don't know how to answer your question."

She matched the frown he adopted by the end of his statement. In that moment, he noticed that some of the fear on her face faded. It almost sparked up again when he moved toward her but as he raised his hands and closed the distance to keep the rock as the only obstacle between them, her expression softened again so she could speak.

"You truly have no name?"

"Not like the names you do."

"We do?" The lines in her head deepened. "Not names like English people do, you mean?"

"No."

"Then what…"

"Not like humans do." He clarified and her eyes widened.

"You're a Fey?" He nodded and she flustered. "But Fey don't exist."

"We've existed for as long as you have. Maybe even longer." He shrugged, "But it's been a very long time since a human crossed onto our shores and we don't go where you are."

"So everyone thought you were a myth."

"We prefer it that way." He paused, "Most humans stay away from our island. They believe it's cursed and they will be too if they set foot on it."

"Everyone told me not to come but…" She shrugged, tapping her fingers on the rock. "I didn't see the harm."

"There's no real harm." He gestured around him. "It's a place like any other."

"It's a nicer place than I've ever seen."

"It's because of our people." He paused, "Do they not have Fey where you're from? Do they not make the world more beautiful where you call home?"

"If we do, and I believe the Yorkshire Moors are full of them, I've never seen any of your people." She bit at her lip, "They've also never seen me naked."

"Their loss." He smiled and then dropped the expression when her face reddened. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. It's just… Fey do it all the time. It's our natural form."

She nodded at him, "You're not… Not now, anyway."

He glanced down, "It's armor."

"To protect you against something?"

"It's more of a uniform, really. We've not had any enemies in ages." He pointed back, spreading his arm. "I patrol this stretch of beach."

"Then you were watching me?"

"I was on duty, watching for whomever might come to our shores. I saw you swimming but I didn't know you were a human until you walked on the beach."

"Am I not supposed to?"

"I don't know." He smiled, "Many haven't. There's… There's not much good blood between the Fey and the people here."

"I've heard stories."

"What kind of stories."

She looked down at the rock a moment, dragging her fingers in the grooves before leaning into it. "They say you steal their children."

He shook his head, "We don't. At least, not like they say."

"Then you do?"

"In a way." He met her eyes when they almost begged for a better explanation. "We take those who would otherwise come to harm. Children in homes where they wouldn't be loved. We leave our… Those who wasted themselves in return. It's a punishment to be sent to live with a human family. Most die and that's our justice for their crimes against our people."

"Oh." She brought her arms up, leaning more fully on the rock between them. "Then is it also a punishment to know a human?"

"I don't know. You're the first I've met."

"You're the first Fey I've ever met too."

"Then I guess we'll be the first to know one another."

"But we don't know one another. Not properly, anyway." She extended her arm, "I'm Anna."

"And I'm…" He paused again, "What's a normal name, for humans?"

"Are you man or woman?"

"I don't know."

"Male or female?"

"Male."

She smiled, "Then you've many options. My parents used the Bible to name me so I can offer you a lot of names from there."

"Like what?"

"Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Nathaniel, Bartholomew, Phillip-"

"I like John."

"Really?"

"Of course. It's simple and I can say it in Fey." He extended his hand, putting the back of it to hers. Anna adjusted to grip his hand and smiled.

"Then, John, it's lovely to meet you." She jerked both of their arms once, squeezing his hand for a moment, and released.

"It's lovely to meet you too Anna." He curled his fingers into his palm after she drew away, savoring the tingle she left.

Anna gave him another smile before giving a little wince. "Before I get back into the water, could you… Turn around?"

"Why?"

"You'll see me again if you don't."

"I've already seen you."

"I know but…" She shrugged a shoulder, "Now that we know each other it's better if you don't see me."

"Better?"

"More polite." Anna clarified. "More 'in keeping with decorum', as my mother would say… Although she'd perish at the thought of what you've already seen."

"But that was before I knew you so it wasn't impolite, correct?"

"No it's…" Anna huffed, "It's hard to explain. It's, technically speaking, impolite either way but you didn't know and I wasn't wearing anything so…"

She sighed, "I just… I'd feel less awkward if I knew you weren't watching me."

"Because you don't want me watching?"

"I shouldn't."

He leaned over the rock, a grin coming over his face. "But you want me to?"

"I don't know."

"I think you do."

She held his gaze and pushed off from the rock. With a twist of her hips, as if telling him she did not care, Anna walked back to the water to give John a perfect view of her body. Walking into the water, she did not turn back until the water lapped at the bottom of her back.

Turning over her shoulder, Anna called back to him on the beach. "If you want to watch again, bring me something to wear next time. I wouldn't want to give a show to the whole island."

In the next instance she dived into the water. John watched her swim away, the smooth strokes falling in line with the current. Watched her all the way to the distant shore and until she was no longer in sight.

Continuing to curl the fingers of the hand she touched to his palm, John mounted the rock and sat on the edge of it to watch the other shore for her. Part of him wondered if he would wait there forever for her and a tinier part of him admitted it might. Especially when he thought he could still feel the warmth on the rock from where her fingers graced it.


A steady knocking woke him.

Grumbling to himself, John pushed out of his makeshift bed and hissed as his leg cramped. It took a second, a second too long when he endured the ceaseless pounding at the door, to massage it out so he could move from his sofa. He groaned as his back popped with each step until he reached the door. Only an umbrella showed through the peephole, to match the steady tap of rain at his windows, and John forced himself to pull the oak door open to greet his guest.

"John Bates?"

"Yes?" He frowned at the diminutive woman standing on his stoop. "Can I help you? Because I don't take solicitors. Even ones willing to brave the road you drove to get here. If you've something to sell you just get back in your car and-"

"I'm not here to sell anything, Mr. Bates, although I am a solicitor. Anna Smith, at your service." She produced a card, leaning her umbrella back on her shoulder. "I'm contracted through Grantham & Sons, Crawley, and Associates out of the York office to liaise between you and the arson investigation about the burning of Crags Estate."

"You're the investigator on my case?"

"That's right."

"Well you're not needed. I burned the place down, no one was inside, and I'm not filing for damages so it's just me doing what I want with my property." He went to close the door but she put a hand on it to stop him. "I can shut this door on you, Ms. Smith, and I won't bat an eye."

"'Course you can. But," She raised a warning finger, still managing to hold her umbrella steady. "If you do, then you'll have to deal with other people making their way up your impossible drive and I doubt you want that."

"That being said," Ms. Smith lowered her umbrella, shaking it out before closing it and propping it against his door on the covered porch. "May I come in?"