Croe didn’t understand the connection between fairies and familiars, originals or no, and accepted Sperantia’s answer without comment. She’d hoped for better, assumed a closer bond. But if this experience was teaching her anything, it was that Mallos kept even fewer people close than she’d thought. They had that in common; a closed-off, secretive nature that made their honesty with each other even more unlikely and precious. She wasn’t sure she wanted that for him, anymore. Or for herself.
But change was hard, and slow, and they were both stubborn. She wasn’t sure where they could even begin.
“I’ll check in with you,” she confirmed, pushing off from the wall and adopting a casual gait as she strolled out the way they’d come in. It was habit, to fade into the crowd, but Croe did have to wonder if someone might be watching. Her eyes lingered briefly on every face she passed, wondering, was it you? The idea that the fairy who’d done this might be right here, hiding in plain sight, was maddening…and useless. It doesn’t matter, she thought to herself, returning her attention to the map, the walls. They won’t stop me from finding you.
Because Mallos was here, she knew. She could feel it.
But he wasn’t making it easy. The buildings were beautiful, but predictable. Most of the doorways appeared to be in use, even if they were not open to the general public. And every time Sperantia reached out, her thoughts brushing against Croe’s mind like a fingertip, Croe could sense her increasing anxiety. It grated, honestly. She wanted to tell her to calm down, but knew it wouldn’t be well received and worked instead to keep her own communications brief, factual. It was hard enough having her mind wide open like this, like throwing open the doors of a fortress she’d built over years. It was hard enough mitigating her own fear, as unfamiliar as a stranger. For better or worse, that ended as they converged outside the palaces, and their mental defenses snapped back up, watertight. Her mind was briefly, blissfully silent.
Sperantia was pacing; Croe was thinking, her arms crossed over her chest. The cat had asserted that Gwythr wouldn’t hide his prison somewhere it could be stumbled upon…but what if he had? This was the most visited part of the Alhambra, and wouldn’t that be a kind of cruel irony? All these people passing overhead, and still, no savior came for him. An opulent palace, not totally unlike the ones Mallos liked to call home, just out of reach in his darkness. If Croe were going to fuck with someone, that seemed like a good way to do it. Maybe that was Sperantia’s problem – she couldn’t think like a monster. Croe smirked wryly down at her, then frowned. Sperantia had stopped pacing. She looked like she was going to be sick.
What came out was worse.
Croe shifted uncomfortably, her eyes scanning the crowd for any sign that people were noticing the cat confessional. Luckily, people tended not to notice things they couldn’t explain. Croe did not have that luxury, but she certainly couldn’t explain what she was hearing. Sperantia didn’t care that she’d killed people? That was a first. Her eyes narrowed, considering the words. Considering how to respond.
”He didn’t know he was falling in love,” she began, finally, under her breath. “He thought I was a misdemeanor, a bad habit, like a cigarette he’d put out before anyone noticed. And by the time he knew…I don’t know, Sperantia. I can’t make excuses for him, but maybe he wasn’t as afraid of telling you as he was of admitting it to himself. I know I was. I didn’t even tell him I was pregnant, I just avoided him, until I couldn’t. And then I let him believe it wasn’t his.” She folded and unfolded the map in her hands; the creases had turned white and flaked. “We understand each other because we’re alike, but you understand him better than you’re giving yourself credit for. And if it weren’t for you, I would have gone after this myself, and everything would be on fire.” She straightened. The supervisors at the gate were calling their time, and the line began to move. “So I’m glad you’re here. For what it’s worth.”
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