Month: January 2006

Myriel

The Constable’s red hair whipped around as Jaedin stepped into the hallway. She had clearly been expecting a longer wait. He greeted her with a smile. “Myriel. To what do I owe the privilege of your company?”

Caught off-guard, it took her a moment to focus on him. She stared at him for a few seconds before her eyes slid away. This was not their first meeting; the first time they met she had made the mistake of meeting his gaze with the full confidence of someone who thought they had nothing to hide. She had learned rather quickly that everyone had something to hide. Since then she had, so far, managed to avoid making the same mistake twice. “A courtesy call, Master Jaedin.”

A courtesy call, Jaedin thought, but not out of any courtesy on her part. Even Constable’s have patrons, and hers was a close acquaintance of Jaedin’s; a close acquaintance who owed him several favors. Myriel avoided him like the plague; her presence here meant her patron thought there was something he should know. “Regardless of the reason, it remains a pleasure. I am told you refused the comfort of my library?” His words were light, but his gaze never wavered from her face. “The foyer is really too cold for conversing.”

Myriel glanced towards the hallway leading out of the foyer, clearly unhappy at the idea of going any deeper into Jaedin’s home; the foyer was neutral territory – or, at least, she tried hard to convince herself that it was. When Myriel spoke, Jaedin didn’t need to read minds to know what she was leaving unsaid. “I…cannot…” Will not. “…stay long, I have pressing business elsewhere…” Orphans to feed. Eyes to gouge out. “…but your offer is courteous, Master Jaedin.”

“Well then, to business. What great or grave news has brought you here?”

She hesitated for a moment, her head turned just slightly to the side as she regarded the brightly woven tapestries adorning the foyer walls. They gave her a place to focus her gaze while she spoke, “Master Kytrell’s kitchen caught fire yesterday evening. There is nothing left but stone and coarse kitchenware.”

“Fascinating news, but I don’t see why…”

“Master Kytrell was in the kitchen when it caught fire.”

Marcus appeared in the foyer carrying a black jacket draped over one arm. Jaedin said, “I see. That is tragic. But I still fail to see that it is any affair of mine.” He turned towards Marcus and motioned him closer. Black jacket in hand, the boy approached and handed it to Jaedin.

“Miranda Ruethette.”

Jaedin paused, one arm in the jacket. “Miranda?”

“You know her then? She is…how did you put it, an affair of yours?” Myriel wasn’t quite smiling, but her shoulders relaxed as she found some verbal ground to stand on.

Jaedin didn’t answer her right away. He finished putting on the jacket and considered the woman in front of him. “How is she related to this?”

“She set the fire.”

Isobel

The dream always ends with a fall. Dark blue ocean and red-hued sky go end-over-end like an erratic mobius strip, twisting and turning in a descent into darkness.

There was a knock at the study door. Jaedin sighed and opened his eyes. Isobel, a small black cat, woke from her position on his chest, leapt silently to the floor, and disappeared under the desk.

“Come in.”

The door was edged open slowly, and a brown-haired boy cautiously stepped into the room, “Master Jaedin, I am sorry to disturb you…”

The vestiges of the dream lingered in Jaedin’s memory and left him feeling strangely vulnerable. It was not a state he was familiar with and it left him uneasy. “I have no doubt you are very sorry for disturbing me. I have visions of you scrubbing kitchen floors in the very near future.” The tenor in Jaedin’s words managed to keep the words soft but enough steel remained to draw blood.

And yet, you did not last long in Jaedin’s company if you were afraid of a little blood. Already well indoctrinated to Jaedin’s habit and manner, the boy ignored the threat with the armored enthusiasm of youth, “The Constable is here to see you.”

“The Constable?” Jaedin swept his feet off the top of his desk, the disquiet of his dream temporarily forgotten. “Finally, something interesting. The kitchen will have to do without your exemplary cleaning skills for a few hours yet. Tell Gerald to see the Constable into the library and then wake Kiera and tell her to pull a nice red from the wine cellar for tonight’s dinner.” On his feet now, Jaedin stretched and felt the rest of the tension from his dream slip away in the wake of burgeoning curiosity. “Oh, and Marcus – check on Evelyn as well. I’ve got her detained at the top of the lighthouse and she may be thirsty. Offer her some water to drink but do not otherwise distract her.”

There was a soft blur of brown hair as the boy nodded and then he was gone. Jaedin needed to gather his thoughts. The Constable would not be here without good reason; she had a history with Jaedin and was not in the habit of seeking his company for social reasons. He had to be prepared to deal with whatever had brought her to his doorstep. Jaedin crossed the room to stand before the study’s only window.

Tall enough to step through and a good four feet in length, the window provided an unobstructed view of the ocean. The lighthouse he lived in was built atop a cliff that jutted sharply out over the water. It was late afternoon and the setting sun was splashing orange and red across the horizon. Jaedin’s eyes drifted lower, to the shoals at the base of the cliff. They were scattered with the wooden bones of ships that had not heeded the lighthouse’s warning.

Perhaps…perhaps, Jaedin thought, the source of falling dreams could be found here, in this vision of dark blue so vast it became a sky of sorts. Jaedin closed his eyes and let the colors play out against his mind. He imagined the fall, how it would feel to step over the edge and find the freedom it offered. In this moment of release he found the stillness he needed and felt his accustomed self-control settle over him like a mantle.

He opened his eyes and turned to look back at the desk. There, interrupted by his dream, lay an unfinished letter. The last few lines remained fresh in his mind.

“…and it is here, at the cusp of necessity and desire, that I feel the danger in being too impatient. Moving too quickly or too soon and my prey is startled, or worse, indifferent.

You knew me so well. Prey and predator in one, and now, with you gone…”

Enough of that, Jaedin thought and moved to the door. There was business to attend to. The letter, and its recipient, could wait.

I think it best I precede the next post with a bit of an explanation; I am putting the finishing touches on a bit of writing I’ve been doing over the last month or so. It is less of a short story and more a prologue to a much larger story. That said, it does have a plot of sorts and has provided me some space to do some structured writing (I have this thing about staying between the lines…). I’ll be posting the story in sections as I polish it up.

If a bit of fantasy storytelling, a small murder mystery, and a woman being trained to control herself while being teased in cruel and inventive ways – if this is your cup of tea, enjoy. If not…well, why are you reading this blog?

Just kidding – I mean, how many others out there could have fantasies that involve binding a woman naked and spread-eagled at the top of the lighthouse just to watch her react to tha knowledge all those people down below can see the outline of her curves in dark relief…