Solace & Grief (21 page)

It was after midnight. The breeze from the ocean was cool, and like fresh linen, soothing. To their left, the Sydney Harbour Bridge straddled the water, ringed at its zenith by a continuous flutter of bats and glittering all over with electric tollway lights. Quietly, the eight of them stood together, resting their arms on the slender metal railing.

It had been a hard day's work. Electra's skills had been put to use, stretching her almost to the point of collapse to locate those they'd lost. Laine had stolen three small urns from an overpriced boutique, although that had been the simplest part of the exercise. By the time they'd arrived at the morgue, it was late afternoon. It had taken all of Solace's control to make sure that the lot of them went unseen – no mean feat when she'd never attempted such a thing before. For the first time, she witnessed Harper's Trick, standing by as he summoned and controlled white-hot fire, reducing the trio of already-charred bodies to three feathery piles of ash. That had been the hardest part for all of them. Paige, Electra and Jess had wept openly, while everyone else had watched in a kind of numbed silence. Reverentially, Harper brushed the remains of Phoebe, Tryst and Claire into the urns, with only a few stray scorch marks to signify what had happened. They departed soon after, leaving the next shift of somewhat befuddled morticians to wonder how it was that three bodies had spontaneously combusted without setting off the sprinkler system.

On their way to Circular Quay, they'd stopped for a drink. One drink had become several. Several had become many, until suddenly, it had become a proper wake. They'd toasted the dead and reminisced, even where their reminiscences were thin, because three people had been murdered, cruelly and without thought, by someone they'd thought was a friend. On the arrival of their final round, Manx had raised his glass.

‘Lest we forget,’ he said, softly.

Everyone drank.

The Opera House roof had been Evan's idea. Solace gained them admittance by thralling the ticket-collector, although she'd been tired by then and it had taken some time. Once inside, Laine led them onto the roof, reading the route from a sea of available minds. At one point, when a swipe-card had been required, Paige had displayed her peculiar climbing talent, shimmying out along a balcony edge to borrow one from an unwary maintenance man. Solace wasn't particularly sure how they'd evaded detection in that exercise without any planning, but as lucky as that made them, she didn't care.

Since then, they'd been camped on the rooftop, silently watching the stars. The wealth of height around them was like a drug: nobody seemed to want to look away. Turning her head, Solace realised that Evan was keeping apart from the others. His shoulders were shaking. Something kicked in her chest, and she walked over to him.

‘Phoebe,’ she began tentatively. ‘Did you love her?’

Still with his back to her, Evan shook his head.

‘No. I just wanted to sleep with her.’ When he looked up, his eyes were wet. ‘That shouldn't make me a horrible person, should it? There are worse things in the world. But now she's dead.’

‘It's not your fault.’

‘Did I say it was?’ His face twisted. ‘How do you grieve for a person you didn't know? You can't. I'm only feeling sorry for myself. Stupid!’ Angrily, he kicked the railing, hard. Hot tears slid down his cheek.

‘You didn't do anything wrong.’

Since when did that make a difference?’

‘Since forever.’

‘Says you.’

‘Evan –’

‘I know. I know. I just –’ He slumped forwards, staring down into the water. ‘It doesn't make it better.’ When he next looked up at her, his blue eyes resembled the blackening sea, as though each iris had been bruised.

‘Solace? I'm sorry about Glide.’

It took all her strength not to stagger. Even so small an absolution landed like a physical blow. She didn't move, letting her fingers freeze on the rail. No words would come, and for a moment, silence reigned. Then she found her voice again.

‘Now?’ she managed.

The others nodded, but it was Evan who spoke.

‘Please. Yes. Now.’

Quietly, Jess and Harper stepped forward to join him. Each of them picked up an urn: Tryst for Harper, Claire for Jess, and Phoebe for Evan. A soft breeze blew past them, salty as tears, or the ocean.

‘Goodbye,’ Laine whispered.

The ashes flew.

‘Y
ou know what?’ said Paige, addressing everyone in general, ‘This basement?
Entirely
too small for our purposes. I mean, no offence, here, guys –’

‘None taken,’ said Jess, who was combing her hair with minimal success.

‘– cool, but this place was in no way designed to hold all your crud
and
eight people.’

‘Granted,’ said Evan, glumly.

It was true. The first night had been bearable only because everyone had been so exhausted, emotionally and physically, that sleeping on tiny scraps of floor hadn't presented a real problem. Now, however, crammed to bursting point with eight mildly hung-over individuals, the novelty was wearing thinner than a piece of old silk. Two nights on the floor had left Solace with a painful crick in her neck, and after Evan and Jess had agreed to share the beds, the only people who'd had a good night's sleep were Manx and Electra.

She wasn't even going to
comment
on the snoring.

‘What about your place?’ she asked Harper instead. ‘You live with Laine and Paige, right?’

Harper shrugged. ‘We do, but it's not much bigger than this. Cleaner, maybe, but that's about it.’

‘Oh.’

‘Could Electra find something?’ Paige suggested tentatively. ‘I mean – I'm not sure how someone could
lose
a house, per se, but –’

Electra shook her head apologetically. ‘Sorry. I can do a lot of things, but I'm pretty sure that's not one of them.’

Solace smiled ruefully. ‘Well, I've got a castle. Assuming we ever find out where it is and provided it hasn't burned entirely to rubble, it'll be private suites all round.’

‘Joy of joys,’ sighed Evan, standing and stretching. ‘Come on, then. We may as well go for a walk. See if there aren't any squats in the area. You know – crack dens, troll caves, feng shui palaces. The usual.’

Only too glad for something to do, the others murmured their assent and began to rise, chatting with casually renewed purpose.

Jess put a hand on Solace's arm. ‘It's bright out,’ she said. ‘Reckon you'll be okay? Daylight hasn't been too good to you lately.’

Solace rubbed her eyes. ‘Don't worry about it. I need to get used to the stupid sun again, anyway.’

‘You know what?’ Solace panted, ten minutes later. ‘
Stuff
the stupid sun.’

‘Over there, into the shade,’ said Harper. With a grunt, Evan complied. The two of them were all but carrying her. For whatever reason, her kneecaps felt as if they'd vanished, leaving her unable to walk. Her feet alternately stumbled, trailed and scraped behind her.

Welcome shade loomed in the form of an alley. Carefully, her two friends dropped her out of the light and onto the ground, where she sprawled, gasping for breath. Automatically, Jess reached out a hand to check her temperature, then pulled back, sucking her fingers.

‘She's burning up,’ she muttered, ‘and I mean
literally
. It's like touching a hot stove.’

‘Does she always do this?’ asked Paige, curious. Evan looked troubled. ‘I don't think she used to, but lately, it's been getting worse.’

‘I'm fine,’ mumbled Solace, struggling to sit up and almost falling flat on her face. Her head was muzzy. Her eyes didn't work. It felt like her veins were full of water rather than blood, as if her head was about to turn into a giant helium balloon and float off into the ether.

‘This isn't good,’ said Manx, his voice distant. ‘Should we take her somewhere?’

‘No,’ said Laine softly, leaning in. Her face was so close that Solace was forced to meet her gaze.

‘I c'n match you,’ she mumbled. Concentrating, she closed her eyes in a long, hard blink, and then opened them again. To her credit, Laine didn't flinch, but Jess looked momentarily taken aback.

‘I didn't know she could do that.’

Evan whistled. ‘Awesome party trick.’

Solace's eyes had become china-blue, as pale as Laine's and startling. Grinning goofily, she batted her lashes and sighed. Abruptly, as if maintaining the change were difficult, one eye slid closed and opened again in its usual black, so that in the moments before the remaining iris darkened, she was as mismatched as Manx. Her head slumped a little. Lightning-fast, Laine reached out a hand and grabbed her chin before she could fall sideways.

‘She'll be fine,’ the psychic muttered, before anyone could ask. ‘Her mind is fine. Her body is, it's already wearing off, I can tell you that. Just give her a minute.’

A minute passed. Groggily, Solace stirred. ‘Am I better now?’ she asked, weakly.

Everyone smiled in relief.

As she struggled to sit up again, Harper stepped forwards and put an arm around her. Grateful, she accepted the help, letting him prop her gently against the wall. Tilting her head back, she drank in the sight of the blue sky far overhead.

‘Guess I'm not going to be coming outside much anymore, huh?’

‘Apparently not,’ said Harper.

Solace watched a thin trail of cloud drift lazily away. ‘Still have to find a place, though.’

‘True.’

‘Where are we?’

Evan looked around. ‘Somewhere in Paddington.’

‘So there's pretty much no way into the city that doesn't involve crossing large, glowing patches of direct sunlight?’

‘'fraid not.’

Solace sighed. ‘Somehow, right now? That doesn't feel like the best plan. I might just have to head home, assuming there's a shady way back. I –’

She stopped, confused. Something soft was rubbing against her ankles. Mildly surprised, she looked down.

A very small cat was weaving between her legs. Pausing momentarily in this chore, it blinked at Solace with a large pair of pale green eyes before trotting daintily into their midst. It was quite a pretty cat, mostly blue-grey but with white splotches on its belly and paws, and a matching stripe down its nose. Its appearance was so unexpected that for a moment, everyone turned to watch.

Passing by Manx, it paused, sniffed him and sneezed, an action so comic and dainty that Solace felt sure the little creature was female. Sitting back on her haunches, the cat rested her front paws on Manx's leg, eyeing him critically.

You are too big!
>

Solace jumped. The voice had been low, raspy and dryly feminine, prickling with a hint of purr that was simultaneously a hint of growl.

‘I heard that,’ Solace said. Manx's eyes widened. The little cat craned her head around and blinked briefly at Solace.

Silence, human
>

Then Manx silently addressed the cat.

Hello, little sister
>

The cat yawned, apparently choosing to ignore this remark. Solace remembered Manx telling her that he could speak to cats, but while this was a satisfactory explanation in part, it did not explain why
she
could do so, too, nor why this particular cat was apparently able to understand English. Whether or not there
was
an explanation remained to be seen, but not for the last time and certainly not for the first, Solace took a moment to appreciate just how many and varied oddities the world was capable of producing.

She then realised that everyone else was staring. With an apologetic gulp, she pointed to the cat. ‘She's talking to us,’ she explained.

I am ignoring you, human
>

‘Well – she's ignoring me, apparently, but she might be talking to Manx.’ Evan opened his mouth. ‘
Don't
ask,’ Solace interjected, before he could.

What can you tell us
?> asked Manx.