Solace & Grief (32 page)

To be continued in
The Key to Starveldt

I
f ever there had been such a thing as normalcy, Solace considered, it must have had the life expectancy of a suicidal mayfly. Being saved from death by an inscrutable feline only slightly larger than the average rockmelon and deposited in a magically sealed safe-house was all well and good, but it didn't explain how Evan had managed to procure a humorous plastic apron with painted-on bosoms and a slogan about the kissability of cooks. The idea that a house provisioned by vampires – and worse, by
her parents
– had contained such an item was frankly alarming. Solace realised her mouth was open, and closed it.

‘Breakfast?’ Evan asked, by way of greeting. He waved a plastic spatula towards a nearby frypan and frowned. ‘Well, it's brunch, technically. It just looks like breakfast. We're in the realm of noon.’

‘Yes,’ said Solace muzzily. She'd just woken up, and was only about seventy percent of the way towards full consciousness. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she glanced around.

Besides Evan, the kitchen was staffed by Manx and Harper. Notwithstanding Evan's ludicrous apron, all three boys were clothed only in boxer shorts. Noticing this, Solace blushed and reflexively tightened her bathrobe – she'd left her clothes downstairs the night before. Seeing her expression, Manx cocked his head towards the laundry and raised a mischievous eyebrow.

‘Electra's done a load of washing,’ he said. ‘Your stuff included. So we're all reduced to toplessness, and everyone else is in robes.’

‘I lobbied for the other way round,’ Evan sighed, ‘but no one ever listens. Philistines.’

‘Clothes should be done soon, anyway,’ Harper said, ignoring this remark. ‘Soonish. They're on the line.’

‘And the others?’

‘Jess is in the shower,’ said Manx. ‘Laine's upstairs, and Paige is outside with Electra. We've been taking turns at the hot water,’ he added, by way of explanation. ‘We're all done, but you can go next, assuming there's any hot water left.’

Solace shrugged. ‘That's okay. I had one last night.’ Craning her head, she peered longingly at the still-sizzling breakfast, which appeared to feature everything from fruit and cereal to bacon and minute steaks. Despite her guilty feast the previous evening, her stomach rumbled at the enticing smell.

‘Give it another minute,’ grinned Harper, seeing her expression. ‘We'll call when it's ready.’

Nodding, Solace turned, walked past the lounge and flinched. There was Duchess, camouflaged as a cushion-shaped ball. Feeling a hard knot rise in her throat, Solace remembered their conversation the night before, and what it had revealed: that Duchess, who'd been silently guarding her since the group home, had allowed her friends to be captured by the Bloodkin. The secrecy of it weighed on her like the physical mark of betrayal, but though the Vampire Cynic longed to disobey, another more human part of her bowed its head and acquiesced, though bitterly.
As if my life wasn't already complicated enough
.

Shaking her head, she looked away and kept moving. Solace had small tolerance for self-pity, and rejected it fiercely now.
It's a new day
, she told herself.
More importantly, we all survived to see it. Lighten up
!

She paused at the back door. It was full-length glass. Wary of direct sunlight, she surveyed the sky. It was slightly overcast, and most of their small garden was in shade. Taking a deep breath, she slid open the door and slipped out, savouring the crisp, wintry flavour of the air.

Arms crossed over her knees, Electra was sitting with her back to the side wall, watching the laden clothesline drift heavily around in the breeze, while Paige lay full stretch on the grass, eyes closed. Overhead, the drying clothes moved gently on the line. Solace recognised her own black shirt between Jess's blue singlet and Laine's corset.

‘Morning!’ Electra called, without turning around. Paige raised her head, waved, and lay back down again. Both girls wore their robes with a lack of self-consciousness that Solace envied.

Still wary of the hour, she stepped gingerly onto the grass. It was surprisingly green, dotted with grey-beige paving stones that formed a broken, rambling footpath towards the back fence. Underfoot, it felt cool and dewy.

‘Thanks for doing the laundry.’

‘Don't mention it.’ Electra smiled.

All too clearly, Solace remembered her friend's trembling exhaustion of the night before. Guilt churned within her, but only briefly: Electra's grey eyes were clear, her skin bright, her hair washed clean of smoke and sweat. There was more to the transformation than hot water and a good night's sleep could account for. Electra's expression was serene, reflecting a quietude that bordered on spiritual.

Surprise must have shown in Solace's face, because the blonde girl tilted her head. ‘What?’

‘Nothing.’ Solace shook her head and grinned. ‘I mean, you just look very calm today, that's all, and last night was… I'm trying to think of a better description than “Book of Revelations meets magic cat”, but it's just not coming to me.’

Electra snorted.

Paige, who was still lying down, laughed with enough force that her mid-section contracted uncomfortably, prompting her to turn and prop herself up on an elbow. ‘Breakfast nearly ready?’ she asked, rubbing her ribs.

‘Just about.’

‘Come on, then.’ With a pleasant sigh, Electra stood up and flexed her fingers. She nodded to the clothesline. ‘These are nearly dry, anyway.’

They stepped back inside, shutting the door behind them. Paige headed straight to the kitchen but Electra paused and turned to Solace. ‘Quick change of subject. Am I going nuts, or has this house been
made
for us? I mean, exactly the right number of beds, toothbrushes, towels, a certain absence of anyone else…?’

‘You're not going nuts,’ Solace promised. ‘Although the universe might be.’ She paused, before steering back towards safer territory. ‘Speaking of which, didn't you promise Duchess another swan? She's still asleep now, but when she wakes up –’

Electra grimaced. ‘Ye gods. Don't remind me.’

‘Remind you of what?’ said Jess, startling them both. Newly emerged from the bathroom and dressed in yet another robe, the seer waved a cheerful good-morning with one hand while wringing out the tail of her still-wet hair with the other.

‘Swans,’ said Electra.

Jess made a face. ‘Gotcha.’

‘Breakfast!’ called Manx. ‘Just ready. Anyone want to call Laine?’

‘No need.’ From her spot by the counter, Paige pointed: the Goth girl was already making her way downstairs.

After that, there wasn't much more to say. They ate in silence, or rather, the closest approximation to silence that involves chewing, condiment-clinking, the scraping of knives and other such interruptions. The only conversation consisted of requests to pass the jam, toast, steak, bacon, onions, sauce, sausages, fruit, juice, cereal, bread, milk or eggs, although Solace declined these last two on the grounds of allergy. It was a hearty feast, and Solace wasn't alone in being ravenous.

Eventually, the meal was gone: crusts chewed, yolk mopped, bacon rind scavenged and bowls emptied. Stuffed to the gills they all sat back, savoured satiety, and enjoyed a moment of peace.

Then Laine spoke, glancing with amusement at the three boys. ‘So. You guys cooked all that?’

Guardedly, Evan raised his head. ‘What of it?’

‘Nothing.’ She stretched. ‘I'm just amazed you didn't burn the house down. And that it was good.’

From where he sat, Harper managed a gracious half-bow. Manx feigned wounded indignity. Solace laughed.

‘It's like a Christmas miracle,’ Evan quipped, blushing slightly at the backhanded praise.

Together, they all rose and began to clean up, stacking so much into the dishwasher that it almost wouldn't close, while Electra fielded queries as to the readiness of their clothes.

‘God,
yes
,’ articulated Jess, with profound enthusiasm. ‘Don't get me wrong – I love the robes – but a houseful of semi-naked people isn't nearly as much fun as reality TV shows make out.’

‘Volunteers to change that state of affairs?’ Evan winked. ‘I think there's some whipped cream in the fridge.’

Jess groaned. ‘Older sister standing
right here
!’

‘Clothes,’ said Electra firmly, before Evan could respond. Nonetheless, her mouth twitched at the corner. ‘Come on. They should be pretty much dry by now.’

With the exception of Harper's shirt, several thick pairs of socks, and – regrettably – Evan's jeans, this turned out to be an accurate assessment. While her brother lounged by the clothesline, Jess went back to the bathroom, leaving everyone else to find their own changing space. Pulling on fresh clothes made Solace realise how genuinely filthy they'd been before. She winced.
Never again will I take hot water for granted
. The simple luxury of it made her feel more human than she had in weeks.
Well,
amended the Vampire Cynic wryly,
for a given value of human
.

Once dressed, however, their energy dissipated. No matter how calm they all appeared, Solace knew no one had forgotten the dungeon. They moved like ants disoriented by a broken food-trail, milling and directionless.

Solace glanced around for her leather jacket, the one article of her clothing Electra hadn't been able to wash – she wasn't cold, but the coat was comfortable. She found it folded in a corner of the dining-room. As she pulled it on, something crackled in the left-hand pocket. Her hand touched paper.

Sharpsoft. My mother's book
.

How could she have forgotten? Mentally cursing herself, Solace pulled the pages free and walked back to her friends, who'd been watching her.

‘We need to look at these,’ she said firmly. Her heart was racing.

‘Right,’ said Harper. ‘Let's –’ He stopped, distracted by something in the lounge.

‘What?’ Solace asked, then followed his gaze. The others caught on one after the other, until eight pairs of eyes were fixed on the big sofa.

Tiny, blue and graceful, Duchess elegantly stretched her slender white forepaws. Yawning sweetly, she sat on her haunches and blinked her pale green eyes, glancing aside before fixing her sights firmly on Electra.

Good morning, human. Where is my swan?>

There was a moment's pause. Electra turned apprehensively to Solace.

‘Did she just say –’

Solace grinned, unable to stop herself. ‘She wants her swan.’

‘
Dammit.
’ Electra sighed, glancing at Duchess. ‘Just… hang on a minute, will you? I'm going to put some clothes in the dryer.’

As long as my swan is forthcoming, I do not mind>

Dutifully, Solace relayed the message, feeling her cheeks ache with the strain of not laughing.

Shoulders slumped, Electra trudged outside, grabbed the remaining wet clothes from the line and hauled them into the laundry. A minute later, she reappeared as the whirring, thumping sound of an older-model dryer filtered into the background. Helplessly, Electra looked to each of them in turn, but Duchess's will was immutable. Jess, at least, had the grace to look somewhat abashed, but when faced with her friend's pleading eyes, she made an Evanesque bow and waved her into the kitchen. ‘Tiles, I think,’ she added over the top of Electra's resigned exhalation. ‘The last one bled a bit.’