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Chapter 16: Better to Light a Candle…

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Kayamé struggled and squirmed against her unexpected captor for a moment, until a soft, familiar voice breathed next to her ear.

"Shh…"

Realizing with relief that she had been caught by Ghenn and not by an intruder, Kayamé immediately relaxed into his arms. She listened. The main part of the house had become a vacuum of silence at the faint noises she and Ghenn had made during their brief exchange. If Kayamé could articulate her instincts better, she would have said that it held an artificial stillness, like those made by people standing too still and obstructing the natural flow of air. As it was, she strained to hear anything within the suspicious noiselessness.

After what seemed like an age, the texture of the air changed. Miniscule sounds reached her ears as whatever was in the next room resumed activity.

Ghenn motioned for her to stay put and ghosted past the kitchen/entryway divider. Kayamé waited for a few seconds, then crept forward and poked her head into the kitchen area. The large room beyond was several degrees brighter due to a suspicious, rectangular hole in the wall. A faint glow of city lights and the approaching daybreak filtered inside the house, obscured by the taller buildings around the small backyard but just bright enough to reveal a handful of silhouettes frozen by the entrance. Somehow the heavy multi-bolted door that lead to Ghenn's outdoor glass-forge in the small rear yard had been taken completely off its hinges.

Whoever they were, these people were good. No one would have been likely to detect such an efficient, near-soundless operation, save for the clinically paranoid.

Which, Kayamé realized with a start, begged the question — how had Ghenn known they were there? She had been listening in her sleep lately, but he had been confident that his works would be perfectly safe. Why?

Her train of thought abruptly ended when the oil lamps built into the walls all flared to life at once, searing her night-vision adjusted eyes. She bit back a curse learned years ago and covered her eyes. Judging by the muted cries of pain and cursing from across the room, the intruders had fared no better. She blinked back the spots darting merrily across her vision, trying to focus on what was happening.

Ghenn stood between his indoor workbooth and the dining area, drawn up to his full height and arms crossed. Since he was only 5'3", Kayamé would have expected him to look slightly ridiculous, but instead he held a dangerous air. By the doorway a group of boys who were unmistakably part of a Street Clan crouched and cringed, shielding their eyes from the too-bright room. Ghenn spoke, and the words seemed to burn with carefully checked fury.

"Begone! There is nothing here for you."

His only response was louder curses, including a few that Kayamé had never heard before. She filed them away for future reference.

"I will not tell you again. Leave this place and do not return."

One of the boys' hands flashed to his belt. Too late, Kayamé realized his intent. Her cry of warning came simultaneous to the knife spiraling far too quickly towards Ghenn. Ghenn dodged instinctively, which resulted in the knife glancing off his arm and falling to the ground instead of embedding in his chest. What Kayamé didn't understand was why, when it sliced his skin, the oil lamps flared again — and the boy's shirt combusted into flames.

With a yell of terror, pain, and anger, the boy ripped off his shirt and ran out the door, followed by his fellows. Kayamé darted forward, beating out the shirt's smoldering remains before the wood floor could catch fire. Once satisfied that only ashen tatters remained, she turned to look at Ghenn.

Emmaline and Tarai had woken at some point during the altercation, and Emmaline already held a cloth against Ghenn's arm. Tarai watched wide-eyed from near the entryway.

"Kayamé, are you all right?" Emmaline inquired worriedly.

"I think so…" Kamaé looked at her hands. The lamps were burning much lower now, nearly out of oil, and it was hard to make out their color. They look darker than normal, probably reddened from the heat of the flames, but didn't feel burned. "Tarai?"

"I'm okay. What about you, Ghenn?" Her voice held a slightly odd note at the question, but Kayamé let it go. Their guardians didn't seem to notice it either, as Emmaline retrieved another rag and bound Ghenn's wound, eliciting a grunt.

"I'll soon be fine, Tarai. We'll have to do something about the door, though." He chuckled. "I'll bring a carpenter around in the morning."

At this point Kayamé yawned, adrenaline quickly draining now that the danger had passed. Ghenn picked up the knife from the floor, wiping it on the mostly blood-stained rag and placing it on the table.

"Emmaline, why don't you and the girls go back to bed. There's still time to sleep a while longer. I'll take care of this and join you in a few minutes."

Emmaline nodded, taking Tarai's hand. "Let's go, darlings. I'm sure you're still as tired as I am, and dawn isn't too far off."

"Wait." Kayamé crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. "Things are wrong. Why did the lamps all burn at once, and his shirt catch fire? How do you plan on keeping them from coming back now that the door is gone? How did you even know they were here?"

Unexpectedly, Tarai nodded in determined agreement. "Too much doesn't make sense. I saw your arm, before the bleeding stopped. I don't think I would have noticed if the lamps weren't so burned down, but…" she swallowed. "I know what blood looks like. It shouldn't glow a little just as it comes through the skin."

Kayamé stared at Tarai, then at Ghenn. He smiled faintly.

"It seems the old saying 'blood will out' may be a bit more literal than some people think."

"But what does it all mean?" Tarai insisted.

"I suppose some explanations have long been due," Emmaline admitted softly. "The time has simply never seemed right."

"Well, the time is apparently now. Would you ladies prefer to hold this conversation here and now, or postpone it until morning?"

Kayamé and Tarai exchanged glances.

"Now," Kayamé answered for the both of them. "It's close enough to morning dawn already that it's almost not worth going back to sleep, and I'd rather know what's happening."

"Ever the truth seekers." Ghenn made shooing motions with his hands. "Go get situated in the bedroom for a talk, while I take care of this out here. I'll be but a moment. Emmaline, why don't you rebuild the fire? The fall air will be getting in now, and this early in the morning is always coldest."

Emmaline nodded. The girls trailed behind her to the bedroom. By the time Ghenn returned the fireplace was crackling merrily, casting patterns of shadow and light in a flickering dance about the room. He sat down on the edge of the bed, Emmaline perching beside him and draping a coverlet over their legs.

"I hope you'll forgive me if I don't know where to begin."

Ensconced beside Kayamé in their bed, Tarai had pulled a blanket over her head like a cowl, and peered out from the shadows. "Start with why your blood has sparks running through it when exposed to air?"

"Ah. Of course."

Ghenn paused for a long moment, marshalling his thoughts, then began to speak.

"I am not a native of Moire. In the old language of my people I am known as a Hirei, but you would know my kind better from the old faerie stories I've been telling you, where we are called the Katien tribe – that is, the fire-clan of the Fae race."

Kayamé inhaled sharply. "You're really one of the Fae? It's true, then? The Fae didn't die out or travel to another world, but are hiding far away from human civilization?"

"Yes. Not as far away as you might think, though. Sometimes Fae enter the human world, like I did. Many even marry or have children, which means that some humans are partially of Fae blood as well. It will lay dormant unless triggered by strong emotion, such as anger or desperation. But I digress," he added. "My blood holds those strange sparks, Tarai, because a Fae's power literally runs through our blood."

"Do you have magic, then, like in the stories?" Tarai asked breathlessly.

"I have some talents. The quality of my work is in part because I can precisely control my fires to melt and reshape glass according to my wishes. I caused the lamps to flare, Kayamé, and lit the boy's shirt on fire accidentally when my control slipped from the shock of the knife wound. I guard that door with a warding that alerts me whenever someone attempts to enter. Usually the bolts are enough to bar their entry, but those boys were unexpectedly persistent."

"I think Mal belonged to that clan," Kayamé declared. "It's too close to be a coincidence."

"That may be so, but he was not here and I will not begrudge him an honest day's work, should he choose to come again. Perhaps it could be enough to free him from depending on a clan to survive."

Tarai hugged her blanket closer. "Sometimes it's hard to remember we were like him once. Ghenn, did – did you employ us three years ago because we couldn't have survived otherwise? I mean, Mal and the Streets boys can have it bad, but I've never seen other girls running in the clans."

"Yes, little one." Ghenn's eyes had grown suspiciously moist beneath their white brows. "I could not leave you as you were, not when I, and only I, could save you." He took a deep breath, Emmaline laying a hand on his arm. "The Hirei, we… some of us occasionally have images flash in our minds, possible futures or events of the past. When I saw you girls, I also saw what might be. I could not let it come true."

Ever empathic, Tarai shed her blanket and, blinking back tears, climbed up on the bed on Ghenn's other side. Tentatively snuggling under his arm with a shy smile, she chose to express her gratitude with the implicit reestablishment of trust, rather than a 'thank-you' in words.

Kayamé's brow knit, thinking hard. "Then… are the Old Folk really as bad as the dark-legends say? I mean, you're still a good person, even if you're a Fae. The stories you tell us and the stories I hear the street musicians recite don't always make sense together. Are the Fae good, or bad?"

"Well, we are certainly not mischievous little men or spirits lacking in malice but with tendencies to make trouble." Ghenn smiled a tight, slightly bitter smile. "We have our share of good and bad in society, just like humans."

"Why did you come to Moire, then?"

"That is somewhat complicated, and very much political. The simple answer is that a good friend and mentor of mine asked me to come here and determine how humans now perceived us. You see, over a thousand years ago our races had a falling out over a disagreement between the rulers of the time. In the process, many lies were told to the peoples, and without contact to dispel those lies, the alienation between us continues. I came here to monitor human opinion nearly forty years ago, and never bothered to leave."

"Why? Didn't you like where you used to live?"

Ghenn chuckled at Tarai's question. "For all its good points, there have always been problems. And I found something infinitely more valuable here." He and Emmaline exchanged a fond glance, and Emmaline picked up the narrative.

"I come from a family of scholars who specialized in the ancient past, what we could find of it. As such, I knew a great deal of the oldest legends about the Fae. When we became romantically involved soon after Ghenn arrived, I eventually recognized in him the signs of a Fae."

Emmaline laughed at a memory in her mind's eye. "I've never seen him so surprised before or since! But he admitted I was right, and we both decided we didn't care. My family thought I was a fool for marrying so young, but we moved to a different part of the city and never looked back. I think I may have grandnephews and grandnieces by now, but I lost touch with them long ago."

"Wouldn't he have been lots older than you?" Kayamé inquired. "I thought the Old Folk lived a lot longer than humans."

"Only pureblood Fae, descended from a single clan, retain the old life-spans," Ghenn replied. "A handful of Noblefae and higher-class families have managed to keep pure lines; by this time all common folk, including myself, are crossbreeds between several or all of the five clans. We rarely live longer than the upper limit of human lifespans, and many often die even earlier. The Creator has blessed me in that Emmaline and I seem to age at the same rate, for it means we are unlikely to be separated by death for long."

"Why have your lives shortened like that?" Tarai asked curiously. "Is it the way the blood mixes?"

"That's right. When opposite elements meet in the blood, body fights against itself. This doesn't kill a Fae right away and so it went ignored for a long time, but we've since discovered that mixed blood Fae have far less endurance for magical tasks. We are already a frailer race than humans, and the conflicted body eventually loses strength to do anything, even to live. Crossbreed Fae die peacefully, but we die quite young relative to the pure bloodlines."

"Can't anything be done to fix it?" Tarai bit her lip. Kayamé looked on, worry showing in her face as well. "I want you to live a long time!"

Ghenn smiled at them both. "I've lived what feels like a long time already, Tarai. There are things that I wish I could see in my own lifetime, but nothing seems to have been found to help us yet. Some intriguing theories exist about how to help my people, but nothing concrete has been determined."

"We'll find out a way, then. Some way to help both of you live for a long time to come. Even if we have to travel 'round the world to find out what it is."

"Around the world," Tarai echoed. "When we're old enough we'll go searching, even if it's all the way to wherever the Fae hid themselves ages ago, to find a way to help people like you live longer."

Ghenn's eyes twinkled. "I believe you both will, someday. Perhaps you could even show my people that humans aren't so bad, after all."

"If that's what it takes, we definitely will." Kayamé nodded decisively. "We'll do whatever we have to."

"Well, that's settled, then." Ghenn paused. "Would you like us to begin teaching you more about the wide world you plan to eventually travel? I can even pass on to you some of the old Fae lores, and the true history as I learned it from my mentor."

"Oh, yes!" Tarai was beaming.

Kayamé looked thoughtful. "I'd like to know the stories, but if we're going to travel someday, I want to be able to do more than throw words. Here in the city we've always managed to bluff and run away from the clans, but that might not always work with them or anyone else. A little knowledge of street brawling won't do much good."

"It has been a long time since I learned to fight, but I may be able to help you in that regard. Does anything come to mind?"

Tarai shrugged helplessly. She had never much liked violence or confrontations, preferring to leave that to Kayamé.

"I remember, months ago, you crafted a boy drawing back a bow. Could I learn how to do that too?"

Ghenn nodded. "If I were to teach you anything, I would prefer to begin with basic ways to defend yourself even without a weapon, but I believe that yes, Kayamé, I may be able to teach you archery."

"But that will have to wait for a little while," Emmaline went on. The sun has risen, and it's time to begin a new day. We'll have to determine properly how to fit such things into our days later."

"Emmaline? When Kayamé learns to fight, could I learn the old tongue? It sounds like it would be beautiful."

Emmaline laughed again. "While learning basic self-defense would be a good idea, yes, Tarai, when Kayamé and Ghenn practice archery we'll see about having lessons of our own. Now, off you go to get dressed and I'll see about breakfast. Ghenn, the carpenter? See about improving the locks while you're about replacing the door, won't you?"

Under Emmaline's direction they scattered for another day, a little closer to each other and filled with new purpose and ambition.

Maybe their resolve would last, and maybe it wouldn't, Ghenn reflected. But perhaps, if it did continue through the next several years, then he could hold a bit more hope for the coming of that brighter future Aire had described to him so vividly, almost forty years ago.

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AN: This is an expository chapter. I make no apologies, because these things have to be said sometime. Our characters are still separated in space, but their links are pulling closer…

Not much else to say, except that because it's midterm season, the plunnies came out to play. And bit. And don't like to let go.

'Til next time,

Ocianne

10/06

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