Emerald City Dreamer (34 page)

Jina giggled, in part because she'd lived in places like this before, but also out of nervousness, because it could easily be some monster huddled under those covers.

"
Clearly this foyer is overpopulated," Jett said, "and the living room is taken. My room then?"

Jett took her hand and led her up the stairs of the old house. Her heart began to beat with excitement, with the anticipation of discovery. Slowly she was beginning to understand that Jett could show her so much, another side to this great big world.

And these fae she had taken in. Assuming Jett was seelie, she would have rules. She could teach them and shelter them, give them structure, keep them from becoming monsters like Haun and Pogswoth and Ezra.

At the top of the stairs, Jina stepped through a door and looked around Jett's room in wonder. Fabric covered every surface, embroidered pillows in silk and satin piled on the floor. A grand bed stood against the wall, a canopy draped with gauzy cloth and silk flowers. At least, she supposed they were silk. She wondered how the room appeared to faerie eyes. She could probably see it, if she tried. She'd rather Jett show it to her.

"
What a beautiful room," she said.

"
I created it to please delightful creatures such as yourself." Jett sat down at the edge of the bed and patted the red coverlet. "Come, feel how soft the bed is."

Jina felt the weight of the amulet hanging around her neck, hidden under her shirt. "Do you have a bathroom first?" she asked, sheepishly.

Jett chuckled. "Of course." She pointed to a door, and Jina slipped through, closing it behind her.

Once inside, she lifted the chain from around her neck and held it up, gazing at it through the mirror. Jina wasn't sure which she was more afraid of: being truly exposed to this faerie, or explaining the Ordo and its mission to her.

She should tell Jett. As soon as possible. She looked down at the iron in her hand. There was no way Jett could understand. Jina tried to imagine Jett's reaction.

In her mind, Jett made demands for loyalty, and forced her to abandon Sandy. Coming clean now would be a betrayal of Sandy.

Jina reached in her pocket and held the tiny daisy between her finger and thumb. It was no worse for wear. The iron weighed heavily in her other hand, so she stuffed the medallion into her pocket. As soon as these pants came off, Jina would be defenseless. Vulnerable. Trusting.

Let Jett prove herself, then.

Jina hooked the daisy over her ear, flushed the toilet, and washed her hands. Then she left the bathroom and plopped into the bed next to Jett and worried herself with far more interesting things. Like how to get Jett's shirt off. And touching her smooth white breasts and pink nipples. And nibbling at her neck. And letting Jett unzip her pants.

A couple of hours later, Jina lay fighting off sleep, with her head against Jett's tummy, their fingers crisscrossed, Jett's right hand braided through Jina's hair.

"
I want to know more about you, Jina. Like, what places have you been? Where did you grow up? How did you get into music? Where did you go to college? What do you do for money? What were you like as a child?"

"
You know way more about me than I know about you," Jina muttered.

She wanted to give Jett the opportunity to talk. She didn't like this shadow between them. She wanted to open the door, to make Jett walk through. "It seems like... there's something more to you. And something more to this house."

Jett simply squeezed her arm.

It didn't seem to be working. Jett wasn't ready to spill it. So be it. Jina needed just one thing. She propped herself up on her elbow and looked Jett directly in the eyes. "I'm betting that you know what I'm talking about. I understand why you can't explain it yet." She paused. "Promise me one thing - if you have anything other than the best intentions, let me go right now."

"
I'll give you as many assurances as you need, little flower. Whoever hurt you in the past..." Jett sat up and gripped the sheets. "Just say their name, and I will hunt them down and-"

"
No, no, I don't need that. Not vengeance. God, please, no more vengeance. I just want your word." There was power in promises from the fae. Or so the stories said.

Jett took her hands and said, "Jina, I love you."

"
That's..." Jina swooned. She touched Jett's face and pulled her close into an embrace. Love. It filled her and distracted her from the fear. But real or not, that fear served a purpose, warning her to be cautious lest she, no matter how low the risk, be hurt again. So with regret, Jina sat back again, inhaled deeply, and said, "I love you too... But that's not... enough. I need you to swear."

Jett's brow wrinkled, then she nodded with an intensity Jina had never seen from her. "I promise. I swear by the dew that rises up from the ground, by the stars that never falter, by the ocean that presses against the strand, and by the fire that burns in my heart, that my intentions towards you are as pure as a snowflake that never can melt."

Jina smiled. It would have to do. She sighed, and relaxed into Jett's embrace.

She longed to sink in further, to talk about all of her problems and worries with Jett. But most of those had to do with the Ordo. She wanted to let all her shrouded secrets fly free, something that could deepen the moment if it didn't blow everything to pieces.

Jina still had a chance to tell Jett about the Ordo, right then. But she knew she wouldn't, and she already regretted it.

TWO SEPARATE AUDIENCES COLLECTED to watch him build. Those by the fence were normal people. The others in the shadows under the overpasses were
others
.

He'd rarely seen so many in one place before: creepy crawlies of all shapes and sizes, some just sneering eyes peeking out of the gloom. They said nothing he could understand, only murmurs in the dark. He paid them as little attention as possible. He knew homeless people went crazy, and he was far enough down that path already. Especially with the voice he'd heard the night before, calling his name.

The humans seemed entertained. He overheard them talking about urban art projects, though some openly called him a lunatic.

Over time, more creatures gathered, and he felt a threatening spirit grow.

When night fell, three stepped out of the dark towards him: a tall tree-like fellow, a dwarf, and a cat-sized ... thing. Like the Brothers Grimm themselves, however many there were. Or at least how he imagined the Brothers Grimm must have looked.

"
You," the tall one said, his voice like a creaking branch. Ezra paused with a big chunk of concrete between his hands. Aside from Fiz and Lady Jett, the things he saw had never talked to him before now.

"
What?" he said. "I'm busy."

"
No yer not, troll," squeaked the little one, his gray ears twitching and his fangs quickly hidden in a frown. "Ye need to stop bein' busy,"

Ezra's arms had started to hurt, so he set down his load, a barrier between them. He couldn't concentrate well enough to stack it on the foundation properly. "I'm not bothering anyone," he said.

"
Yes ye are, ana if ye don't stop, there'll be some a little trouble now." The little guy jabbed in the air with a bony finger, as if he were five feet taller and could poke Ezra in the chest.

Ezra stood straight, his back aching slightly. These little freaks weren't going to stop him. "I don't see what difference it makes," he said. "No one is using this part of the park, and these rocks were going to waste."

The dwarf grunted.

Ezra took it as permission to keep defending his rights. "I'm doing God's work, so stand back and let me build my cathedral!"

An uproar of giggles and guffaws came from under the bridges. The people at the fence started muttering. Some of them walked away uncomfortably. Someone exchanged money; probably winning some bet about his sanity.

"
An cathedral, he says, is that whatcha building? 'Tis amusing, but you no jester. Gitter lost ana stop eatin' up all these toradh."

"
I'm not eating up anything." As Ezra spoke, the tall one took a step forward. He... or she... was easily three heads taller than Ezra, an advantage he wasn't used to. He took a step back. There was a sound like leaves blowing in a whirlwind, and Ezra found himself on the ground.

"
Ye is eatin' all the toradh. So leave it."

Ezra stood and on his way up he grabbed a brick. "Don't you-"

He felt a hand on his wrist. "No, you leave it," said an ugly, wrinkly, warty man who had stepped into the fray. He wore the standard uniform of the homeless: an orange knit hat, a striped scarf, and an old green coat. He even smelled homeless. Probably just about how Ezra himself smelled, only with more piss. At least his hair was nice, the only soft thing about him.

"
I got this," he said to the three. They paused only a second before shambling back to their underpass.

"
Get thee behind me," Ezra whispered.

"
Haha, what Satan? Not quite. Name's Pogswoth." He wheezed as he laughed. "You're new in town," he said. "One of the lost ones. Maybe I should 'splain to you how things work on the streets of Seattle. Let's go for a walk." He squeezed Ezra's wrist slightly and the brick fell from his hand.

Ezra saw that all the people and weird creatures had left. This new guy didn't seem too bad, not compared to the three misfits from before. And if Ezra was attracting the wrong kind of attention for some reason...

"
Okay, explain then," he said, trying to jerk his hand free.

Pogswoth tugged him forward and Ezra looked at the hand like it was the tail of a boa constrictor.

"
So you think you're building a cathedral here, son? Hmm, it looks nice, pretty."

Ezra turned his eyes back. It did look rather nice, dark stone contrasting with glittery granite, exactly like he'd imagined. "I'm just getting started," he replied. "There will be-"

"
Shut it," Pogswoth said, yanking him up to the fence. He waited for Ezra to climb over first before following. He hopped it in one step and grabbed Ezra's wrist again. "I don't care what it will look like. Everything's got a price, and you ain't paying for what you're using."

"
But I-"

"
Hey, let's say you and me go to the Merc and talk over a drink. I've got a membership."

"
What's the Merc?" Ezra asked, struggling to keep up with Pogswoth's conversation jumping all over the place.

"
Mercury Machinewerks. It's a goth club, you know, black clothes, clove cigarettes, vampire wannabes. Hell, even fae wannabes now and then. Just a few blocks from here."

"
Vampires?" Ezra asked, his pace slowing. "It sounds... Evil."

Pogswoth kept talking as if he hadn't heard a thing Ezra said. He looked Ezra up and down. "You'd have to change. Strict dress code, and they'd never take you in those disgusting rags."

Ezra looked at Pogswoth's own attire and wondered how either of them would get in.

"
You know what else is a few blocks from here?" Pogswoth said. "My place. It's a mess though. The neighborhood, not my house. My house is nice. I could give you some stew. Special stew. You eat it and won't be hungry for a week. Hungry?"

Ezra nodded and stopped resisting the strange man's tugging. The least he could do was hear this guy out, maybe get a meal, and then get back to building.

"
Good, come on." Pogs yanked at his arm but Ezra was already moving.

"
What were all those little things under the bridges?" Ezra asked.

"
All the spriggans and redcap and brownies and wights and other good and free folk of the city.
Good
folk, mind you. Unlike you, you thieving, stealing, mooching, taking-"

"
Hey. I didn't take anything that wasn't just laying around. All old junk that was going to the dump."

"
Not the dross son, not the stones and rocks you were stealing. No one cares about that crap."

"
Then what are you-"

Pogswoth cut him off and started singing a song, "Sunday, Monday, Tuesday... Sunday, Monday, Tuesday."

"
Wedn--"

Pogswoth held up a warning finger. "Shush! See? You're a thief by nature. You would steal the days of the week. My song only gets the three I know. Teach me another, and there's one less for everyone else."