10

Dranian Evelry and the Present Unravelling

Luc had been gone for hours, to Dranian's delight.

Dranian waited patiently on the couch, on his favourite cushion, watching the TV tell stories and tips on dating life for humans. Dog-Shayne rested at his side, blinking up at him with all the undivided attention of a happy servant. If only Dog-Shayne wasn't an animal.

"You're a loyal mongrel," Dranian complimented as he patted the creature on the head.

The TV story switched to a gangly looking couple who held hands, grabbed each other a lot, kissed each other too much, and kept tight in each other's spaces. Dranian found himself cringing. But what right did he have to complain about couples who put their affection on display when he'd just found far too much comfort in a dog?

He looked back at Dog-Shayne with a frown. At first, purchasing the dog had been a way to strike back at the nine tailed fox. But after sitting warmly against the creature for several hours, being gazed at with loving eyes, being licked on the cheek affectionately, and having all the attention he could ever dream of, Dranian realized he felt a small dollop of happiness for the first time in weeks.

It wasn't like Shayne himself was back. It wasn't like this mongrel could replace Shayne, even if Dranian did use his forever-friend's name. Was he being unreasonable by starting to care for a lowly human realm beast?

Perhaps he ought to find himself a special female friend like the couple in the TV show. Perhaps then he would have comfort that didn't seem so absurd to him.

Dranian found himself glancing back toward the apartment door, through which was the hall, past which was Beth's apartment. Beth was passably pretty. She'd betrayed him by not allowing him to escape his contract, but she'd also been one of the only people Dranian had dared to speak to outside of those at Fae Café this past month since Shayne had left.

Days before Shayne took off, he'd done a "quiz" on the human internet on Dranian's behalf to discover Dranian's ideal mate. As it turned out, Dranian's "type" of female had blacker hair than Beths, brighter green eyes than Beth's, and possibly a darker personality than the bubbly, cringy human's. Even so, she wasn't completely awful most days.

Unfortunately, Dranian had no idea how to woo a female. He didn't have many elaborate words, nor was he whole in bodily strength, but he was still more powerful than the rest of the males in the building. In a fight, he could likely snap their necks with his one good arm. He wondered if Beth had noticed all that about him.

He rose from the couch and moseyed toward the door, ideas running through his mind of what he might say. He felt, "Hello, Human. Date me," and, "Shall we start invading each other's personal space?" wouldn't sound as smart as they did in his head.

Dog-Shayne slid off the couch and faithfully followed as Dranian opened the door and slid into the hall. He stared at Beth's daunting door. 3F. He stared for quite some time. He stared until he could stare no more, and he squeezed his eyes shut from the sting of not blinking for so long.

"Are you going to ask her to wed you?" Luc's voice filled the hall, and Dranian whirled.

"What? Absolutely never—not!" Dranian growled.

Luc had a swelling patch over his chin, pink and shiny. He didn't explain where he got it, he just raised a scarlet eyebrow. "Well, if you're ‘absolutely never—not' going to ask her to be your bride, then why are your rhythms racing? Do you perhaps care for that clingy female?" The fox's wide, wicked grin spread across his face out of nowhere. "Please tell me you do. I would very much love to steal her from you. I'm sure I wouldn't have to try very hard."

Dranian snarled and turned to march back to his apartment, but the squeaking of an opening door filled his ears. He spun back, eyes wide, to see Beth standing in her doorway. And suddenly he forgot how to say, "Hello." Why though? Why did he forget? He hadn't cared a single seed what Beth thought of him until ten minutes ago.

Luc swept in, placing an arm against the doorframe with the utmost tenderness and positioning himself in such a way that he and all his obnoxious fox beauty took up most of Beth's vision. The air around him transformed into a sweet-scented lure—others would have missed it, but Dranian sniffed the wretched fox magic with his acute sense of smell. "Oh dear. Are you trying to make my heart falter, dear Beth?" Luc asked her. "Why in the world would you wear that dress and do this to me?"

It was the first Dranian noticed Beth was wearing a dress.

Beth blushed and looked down at her garment. "This thing? I was thinking of throwing it out!" she admitted.

Luc placed a hand over his chest in feign agony. "You're killing me."

Beth released a high laugh that Dranian was sure he'd never heard her use with him. He grumbled a few fairy curses and turned to leave for good, but then…

"Is that a dog?!" Beth's gasp was so loud it caught Dranian off guard. She pushed— pushed —passed Luc and raced to Dog-Shayne's side, dropping to her knees to scratch behind his ears. Luc stared after her with a face that told Dranian the fox was thinking about either grabbing Beth and trying again, or simply killing her right there in the hall for refusing him.

Dranian's shoulders relaxed, and when Luc looked up from the smitten Beth, Dranian almost cast him a gloating smile. He dropped to a knee to show some affection to his beloved dog, too.

"I love dogs," Beth exclaimed, patting Dog-Shayne's head.

"As do I." Dranian admitted the revelation he'd only learned about himself in the past twenty-four hours.

"He's so cute! Can I take him for a walk sometime?" She kissed him right on the snout.

Dranian nodded.

Across the hall, Luc looked ready to explode—a strong reaction to the simple rejection. It seemed the fox wasn't having the greatest day. Dranian didn't give a fluttery fart of his time to wonder why.

"Since I ran into you two, I was actually wondering," Beth glanced over her shoulder at Luc, looking between the two fairies a few times before she spit out her request, "I have a huge dresser that needs to be moved out of my bedroom. You guys wouldn't mind, would you?" She flashed a weird smirk Dranian guessed was meant to be cute.

Dranian's almost-smiling face fell. He could already feel the burning pain that would come with trying to attempt such a physical undertaking.

Luc was smiling again. "I'm sure Dranian would love to assist you, dear Beth. He was just telling me how much he enjoys helping damsel humans. I imagine the dresser is… quite heavy."

"Aw, Dranian, you're so sweet!" Beth swatted Dranian's left arm playfully, and he bit back a croak.

Thirty seconds later, Dranian stared at the enormous dresser in horror. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he approached it under the gaze of Beth and Luc—the latter of whom stood by to watch. Beth's bedroom was not large, so the three of them took up most of the space, along with the mountain-sized dresser.

Dranian pursed his lips as he considered just telling Beth the truth—that all this time he had been assisting her with tasks, he had been doing it injured. He didn't know what she would think of him if he admitted it. Would she think he could no longer break her enemy's bones? Would she think of him as a less worthy male? Would she never speak to him again for keeping a secret about himself?

He cleared his throat once. Twice.

Thrice.

He squatted to try and lift the thing whole, hoping he could prop it up on his good shoulder.

"It's far too heavy to carry like that." Luc's nagging voice flitted through the room. Dranian looked back to find the fox examining a bead necklace he'd lifted from Beth's nightstand.

For someone who didn't roll their eyes often, Dranian did a rather remarkable roll of them now. He readjusted himself to wrap his arms around the dresser's middle. In one large heave, he tried to lift the thing. It came an inch off the ground.

A squeak escaped his mouth—he gritted his teeth as warm pain rippled through his bicep, into his shoulder, down to his fingers. It seemed his whole left side had lit on fire.

He dropped it.

Beth shrieked as the dresser slammed back into her bedroom floor. "The hardwood!" she complained.

Luc couldn't stifle his snort-laugh fast enough. Beth turned and swatted him so the bead necklace he held flew from his hand and bounced onto the bed. "Help him!" she demanded. "This is a two-person job!"

Luc's smile twisted into a predatory snarl. He seemed to contemplate for a split second. Then he reluctantly sauntered over and took the other side of the dresser. "Dranian might do things like this for free, dear Beth. But I require an exchange," he said before he would lift.

"An exchange? What do you need help with?" Beth shrunk back a little like the thought of scrubbing his garments clean or washing his dishes was more than she could bear—even though she seemed to have no trouble asking others to do such things for her.

"How about a romantic date?" Luc suggested. His heart-shaped lips curled into a different sort of smile. A lovely, sweet one that Dranian hated.

Beth blushed again, her moment of fear transforming into a giggle. "I mean… okay. Sure."

Dranian thought to stomp off and leave the dresser all to Luc. But Luc suddenly lifted, and the weight of it tilted onto Dranian too fast for him to escape. He caught it, and after nearly choking on the agony of the pressure, he quickly shuffled backward out the bedroom door, Luc shimmying after him.

Beth followed, eyes glowing. She pointed to a spot by the entry. "Put it there," she dictated.

The two fairies obeyed, setting the dresser on the floor with a thud and less care than required. Dranian was sure his body would burst, that a tear or two might escape his watery eyes from sheer strain. But he turned back to Beth with his lips pinched tightly together, blinking away any traces of moisture before she could see it.

"You're welcome, dear Beth." Luc bowed a little. He turned to leave. "I'll be in touch about our romantic date—"

"Actually, since you're here anyway, would you mind carrying out some of these boxes to my car? I'm going to drop them all off at the thrift store tomorrow." Beth pointed to a stack of boxes in the living space. Boxes that were not all that large—ones she could have certainly carried herself.

Dranian wanted to cry a little then. He hardly cared if she saw him.

Luc though… His mouth was pressed into a thin line. His eyes narrowed upon her, and Dranian saw the moment the fox's mind changed; the very flicker of murder that en tered his gaze.

"You don't mind, do you?" Beth tossed her flirtatious laugh to them as she turned around and headed to the boxes, shoving a set of earbuds into her ears. The faint sounds of music began coming from them as she scanned the box labels as if deciding which ones she wanted them to carry first.

One of Luc's fairsabers appeared. The low buzz of the blade forming burned in Dranian's ears. He hardly had time to draw his spear, sweep before the marching fox, and block his blade before it would have sliced clean through Beth.

Luc glared at her back as Dranian held him at bay. "Let me kill her, North Fairy. You want her to die now too, admit it."

Dranian nudged him back, and Luc reluctantly dropped his saber to his side, but he did not take his murderous glare off Beth's back.

Beth picked up a box and began to turn around.

Two fairy weapons retracted in a heartbeat. Two deadly handles went into pockets.

"Here," Beth said to Dranian first as she handed him a box. She pulled one of the earbuds out of her ear to tell him something important. "Be careful with this one. It's fragile."

Luc's snarl was too low to be heard by a natural human ear.

Dranian nodded once, then turned to carry the box away. But he paused by the door, waiting.

Beth handed Luc a box, too. Luc looked her up and down, not in an immodest way—more like a forest hunter who'd caught a hogbeast and was deciding how to butcher it before he ate it .

"Luc," Dranian called. His voice was dry and strained, and he hoped Beth could not hear the tone in it that told the story of how hurt he was, how every move he'd made in the last five minutes had nearly destroyed him.

Luc reluctantly tore his gaze off Beth and turned to follow Dranian out, seeming to realize that if he assassinated the building owner in her apartment, he would no longer have a place to live. He would lose, and perhaps Luc was the sort who hated to lose.

Dranian thought about that as they carried a dozen boxes to Beth's car.

He was being foolish.

Nighttime came with a whistling wind outside Dranian's bedroom window. Dog-Shayne fell asleep almost instantly at the foot of his bed. He stared up at the human realm stars, twinkling in their places. The stars seemed to ask him questions he didn't have answers to. Questions such as: Are you daft? How could you not tell Mor that the treacherous fox of his childling years is sharing a box of space with you? How could you keep it from Cress, too, whom you swore to serve with the remainder of your faeborn life? And most of all, how could you not even call Shayne when Shayne would have certainly called you if the roles were reversed?

Guilt prickled his insides. It was becoming unbearable.

Everything would have been easier if Shayne had just stayed and been Dranian's roommate from the beginning.

Dranian tried to imagine his lifelong ally in his situation. But everything would have been different if Shayne was the one living with the fox. Firstly, because Shayne couldn't keep his mouth shut; he would have told Mor and Cress immediately. He would have talked Luc's ear off day and night. He might have tried to shoot the fox in his sleep already. Or he would have done what he was best at—annoy the life out of Luc with his tedious habits of singing and chatting and appearing in one's face at all hours.

If Shayne were in Dranian's situation, the matter might have already been dealt with.

Dranian wished he knew how to be annoying. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he tapped his fingers against his phone. Even if Dranian wasn't a natural at the sport of intentional annoyance, maybe Shayne could at least talk him through the steps. Perhaps one phone call wouldn't hurt.

He quickly hit the code of buttons that would make Shayne's phone ring on the other side of their magic connection. He did it before he could change his mind. It was the first call he'd made to Shayne since the day the fellow had left to follow Greyson to the kingdom of Florida.

It rang. It rang some more.

It kept ringing.

Dranian found a voice he didn't recognize coming through the phone telling him to leave a voice message for Shayne to listen to at a later time. The thing beeped too fast, and Dranian gasped as he realized he hadn't a thing prepared to say. He blurted, "Call me!" and then he smashed his finger into the red button six times to ensure the device was no longer waiting for him to speak.

He inhaled a few times and placed a hand over his thudding heart. Then he glanced back at the stars asking all their questions.

"Hush, I'm tired," he finally told the snoopy lights in the heavens. He tossed his phone aside and laid back against his pillow. He did not fall asleep right away, but when he did, he heard a voice.

"Dranian," she said, entering his thoughts of melting colours and windy echoes. "Don't kick me out. I need to see you. It's important."

The being who had never even told him her name. That was the first sign she could not be trusted.

There was never a body, just whispers and the occasional reaching arm that found its way in as though she was asking him to take her hand.

Dranian's dream morphed into darker tones. Smoke, wind, and red fire. A strange sensation crawled over him; he heard shouts and screaming. He spun around over and over, but he could not seem to find where the noises came from. He curled his fists, ready to muster his energy and throw this being from his mind.

"Dranian!" She shouted this time—the loudest she'd ever spoken. "I need to speak with you! Let me in!" And then, "I can chase this nightmare away if you let me."

Not once had he replied to the voice attacking his dreams. Most souls would have answered by now, but once, a long time ago, Dranian had learned to never answer the call of a voice in his dreams.

He fought the impulse to shout at this being for invading in the first place. How dare she? How had she even found his mind to dreamslip into? She was probably causing the nightmare herself. It would only get worse if he said something back to her, giving her the key to enter his dreams at will.

"I've been searching every mind across the realm looking for you," she said, her volume switching from loud to almost too quiet to hear—like her connection to him was growing thin on her end.

Dranian began to push her back out as he always did. He tried, but this time, he could not seem to kick her from his thoughts. Perhaps it was because, despite his best efforts, he continued to fail to remove every being invading his faeborn life at the moment.

"Dranian, you know my voice! Don't you remember me?!" she said again quickly, and this time her words seemed to ring in Dranian's ears. He halted his efforts to send her on her way.

Remember? Had he met this mysterious voice before?

"You promised you would come back for me." This time the voice carried a blend of timidness and accusation. It was a tone that twisted something deep in Dranian's soul. A familiarity that he had tucked away forever. "Where are you, Dranian? What happened to you?"

The first time he'd heard the voice, he thought he recognized it. It was certainly a trick of the dreamslipper. He was sure every time the female entered someone's dream, she made the owner feel like they knew her from somewhere. It was what dreamslippers did—persuade a being to let them in, then torment them forever with nightmares. A wicked sort of pleasure for the maddest puppet masters.

But…

But. Though it was a hazy memory from long ago, something he had forgotten about until now, Dranian did recall telling someone such a thing. Just once. In a village he had left behind. One he had never returned to.

But it couldn't be her.

This was a trap. It was also the longest he had ever allowed her to speak to him in his dreams.

Dranian prepared to thrust her away; his will pooled in around him as he focused.

"Dranian!" she warned, this time with no pleading or timidness. It was a clear-cut warning. Angry. "I have no name to tell you to make you trust me—" He launched her from him, and she was swept backward with one limb of sound reaching back in the shape of an arm. "You were the only one who gave me anything. Your will for me to live. A spear. Your smiles…"

Dranian reached out and caught her arm. Her voice had almost vanished. He held her—held on as his thoughts scattered and then rushed back together again. As this faceless, bodiless being before him hung there by the thread he gripped. As his rhythms sped faster, then slower, then faster again.

As a very distinct, clear memory swept in.

"Ashi-Calla Village…" he whispered. The words came from his mouth before he realized he was saying them. He didn't mean to say them to her …

Suddenly a presence lunged into his dream, filling it up, blotting out all the colours as she entered, stepping out of a bright light.

Dranian gasped when he realized. He dropped her arm, he tried to reel back, but it was already too late.

She marched into his dream with a full body, coming right for him with intimidating ferocity. Dranian tried to wake himself, to escape the dream, but she grabbed his collar before he could leave.

He stared at her. At her face.

A face as terrifyingly attractive and as powerful as he could have ever imagined. He felt entirely out of control—she was in charge of his dreams now. What had he done?

"Dranian," she said in a stern voice. She didn't seem interested in sweeping him into a frightening nightmare by making him drown, or fall off a cliff into nothingness, or worse. "I've been looking for you everywhere," she stated. "I have to tell you something!"

He blinked, even as his thoughts trembled. Even as he waited for her hallucinations of terror to consume him. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd seen her face before.

"Your friend is here!" she shouted at him, yanking his collar a little like she wanted him to shake off his daze and pay attention. "He's going to die!"

What had he done? What had he done? Dranian couldn't think straight.

She looked back and forth between his eyes, and her face fell. He felt a slight loosening of her grip on his collar. And he took his chance.

Dranian tore away, falling backward on purpose with nothing to catch him.

He startled awake.

Dranian sat up in bed, his chest pounding, his panting filling the bedroom. His hands became fists as every clear thought melted into a swirl, as he began to shake, as his breaths became short. As he succumbed to an illness he had not faced in a long time.

Panic. Sheer, undiluted, crippling panic.

He hardly knew what he was doing when he dragged his phone over. When he dialed Shayne's number for help. He couldn't remember where he was, but he needed Shayne.

Dranian couldn't count the number of times the phone rang. His muscles seized up as the ringing came to an end and a lady's voice invited him to leave a message. The phone fumbled out of his shaking hands and tumbled off the bed, hitting the floor with a clatter.

His bedroom door swung open.

Luc stood there, eyes half open, hair tousled like he'd awakened from a deep slumber. A lit phone was in his hand. He took Dranian in for a moment, observing his trembling. Then he held the phone up.

"Who's is this?" he asked in a raspy, sleepy voice. "It was tucked into a box of belongings hiding in my closet, and it keeps ringing."

The walls were moving. The air was suffocating him to death. Dranian could hardly register Luc's question.

He didn't see Luc enter, but suddenly Luc was there, standing by his bedside. The fox tossed the phone to the duvet and grabbed Dranian's chin, yanking his face up so Dranian locked eyes with him.

"Snap out of it, you fool," he said. "One deep breath in. One deep breath out. Repeat." His words sounded dull and uninterested, but Dranian obeyed.

One breath in.

One breath out.

In.

Out.

His spinning thoughts began to slow .

Luc dropped his chin and rolled his eyes as he left. "North Fairies," he muttered. He slammed the door behind him, and the only sounds that remained were Dranian's inhales and exhales as breathable air returned to the room.

Dranian looked down to find his nightshirt soaked with sweat where he gripped a fistful at his chest. When he realized, he released the fabric and lifted his hands to see them. They still shook, but it seemed it was no longer from panic.

He glanced toward his closed door where Luc had left. His eyes fell to the phone resting on his duvet. Slowly, he dragged it to himself, blinking back the moisture in his eyes to see it clearly. A pit sank through his stomach when he recognized the coffee mug phone case stickers and the crack down the screen.

This was Shayne's phone.

But why was Shayne's phone here?

It took Dranian a moment to recall what Luc had said when he arrived, "It was tucked into a box of belongings hiding in my closet, and it keeps ringing."

The only box in Luc's closet was one that held a few of Shayne's things he'd left behind when he went on his trip.

Dranian lowered the device onto his lap. He brushed a bead of sweat from his brow, and he tossed the phone onto his nightstand as it sank in that calling Shayne for help wasn't an option. That Shayne had chosen to leave his only communication device behind.

So, was Dranian really alone to face this after all?

Dranian sighed and shook out his nightshirt, letting cool air find his hot body. He was far too exhausted to feel the humiliation of Luc seeing him at the lowest point of his disability. Now the fox knew Dranian had not just one useable arm, but he also had an illness of the mind.

An illness of his lowly birth that had gotten slightly better when Shayne had showed up in his life. A disease that had only subsided when he'd come to the human realm and chose a quieter way of living among the humans.

And now… Now he'd lost control of his dreams, too.

He released a heavy breath as he realized that he could never fall back to sleep again.