Ten days into December!!?? This month is FLYING.This morning we have more fiction--this coda for The Darkling Thrush was written by reader-friend Brenda (if you're in my Patreon group or my Goodreads group, you know Brenda, so say hi!) It's her first time contributing to the calendar, and I'm so thrilled to have her!
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‘Tis the Season
Septimus Marx, Magister in association with the Societas
Magicke, London bureau, was having a crisis. It had been 4 months since he’d almost had to murder his lover to protect
humanity, and he hadn’t thought anything could ever be more difficult than
that, and truthfully, this wasn’t
anything like that, but still… the next few hours were likely going to change
his life to a similar extent. And he was
terrified.
To all outward appearances though, no one looking at the
smartly dressed man walking briskly down St. Markland Street deftly dodging
last minute Christmas shoppers, would have known that his insides were in a roiling
turmoil.
Snow was beginning to fall, and the sidewalks were starting
to become slick, and Marx hoped that Colin would be careful on his way home.
Home.
Their home.
He had a proposition for Colin. One he hoped would appeal to
Colin’s keen sense of adventure, but also give them an opportunity to test a
true partnership between them. Marx
tried diligently to reign in his excitement at the prospect - with only
middling success - since there were no assurances here that Colin would see the
same potential that Marx did.
And if Colin did accept his proposal, it would come with a significant
professional cost for Colin. If he took the path Marx was finally ready to
offer, it would be almost impossible for him to go back to the more traditional
- and more lucrative - side of the Societas’s advancement track.
Things had worked out astonishingly well for them after the
debacle in Scotland. Colin had needed
care after his run in with Basil and the surgery he underwent to remove the
bullet from his shoulder, and it had seemed natural to everyone that Colin
should stay with Marx during his convalescence.
They were colleagues, after all. They had just been through a harrowing ordeal
together, successfully mind you, and Marx had ample room, as well as much
coveted privacy, in the rooms he occupied not far from Leslie’s Lexicons.
It had been a point of contention between them, however,
that Marx had wanted to keep their personal relationship private, particularly
from those at work. But Marx knew his
reputation, and he didn’t want Colin judged by anything other than his own
merits, especially after how that business with Antony had impacted him.
Antony had taken over for Basil. It had been done quietly;
they had made no official pronouncement, just made an unofficial explanation
that Basil had resigned and relocated to the colonies, and that his duties
would transition to Antony. The rumor
was that he’d met someone, it was a common enough occurrence, and no one
disabused anyone of that idea.
Once Colin had returned to work, he had flourished. The new
lessons he qualified for were challenging him and he even made friends among his
fellow librivenators. And Marx believed
that they had only scratched the surface of what Colin would be capable of with
more training and experience.
But therein lies the
problem, Marx thought, as he sharply turned the key to his flat and strode
into the front hall. He had ideas himself
about what he wanted, from Colin and for himself, but would Colin still be
happy with what Marx could offer once the world began to open up for him, as
Marx knew it eventually would? He would
soon find out.
***
Marx set about laying out a light luncheon for when Colin returned.
Marx knew he was working with Magister Clemens today, and the two of them often
forgot to eat. Fiona purred at his feet, periodically rubbing her head against
his trouser leg to remind him she had performed her duties admirably today and
that she deserved a treat. He tossed a bit of ham to her and she delicately
picked up her prize and headed off.
Eventually he followed her to the parlour, meaning to check
how the weather was progressing, but he found her intently staring at something
outside. He settled on the sofa behind her, peering
over her shoulder and finally picked out what had captured her attention. A thrush sat on the stair railing leading to
their stoop, making a lovely picture as it sang its tune, framed by the flurry
of snowflakes falling around it.
Marx picked up Fiona and brought her close, scratching her
favorite spot behind her ear, “It’s alright my love, they’re just keeping an
eye on us.”
She rubbed under his chin in return and leaped off his lap,
heading upstairs no doubt to settle in for the evening in the middle of their
bed.
The snow continued to fall. It didn’t seem to be sticking
yet, but by the look of the sky it was only a matter of time. It appeared they would
indeed have a white Christmas and Marx smiled to himself as he knew how much
that would delight Colin.
As if conjured by Marx’s thought, Colin appeared at the
corner and made his way to their home.
By the time he came through the door, Marx was there to meet him and
Colin smiled brightly in greeting as he dumped his overcoat and scarf on the hall
chair.
“You won’t believe what happened,” Colin cheeks were flushed
with excitement as they often were when he spent time with Clemens. They were
two of a kind.
“I have news as well, “Marx said as he absently picked up
Colin’s coat and hung it on the coat stand so it would dry, “and something to
ask you, but tell me your news first.”
“Antony offered me the sponsorship for the position in
Constantinople!”
Marx froze. That was… unsettling. Marx stood there, his body
suddenly rigid, but Colin didn’t seem to notice.
Colin squeezed his arm then headed down the hall toward the
kitchen, calling behind him as he went, “I must eat first though, before I tell
you. I’m famished.”
“Yes, of course,” Marx replied automatically, moving stiffly
down the hall after him. “There’s luncheon set out in the kitchen. Come join me
in the sitting room when you’re ready, I laid a fire when I came home, so it
should be warm in there now.”
Normally he was quite adept at reassessing his strategy on
the fly when unforeseen things occurred. Normally he was extremely good at it, but apparently not in this instance.
Antony’s offer was… not entirely surprising. After Colin had
published his article on his experience looking for the Faileas a’ Chlaidheimh, he had received quite a bit of celebrity
and acclaim, even though significant parts of his adventures were changed or
omitted. They had decided that it was
best that he publish something, or Irania Briggs might begin to wonder why he
didn’t, and the article was also a way of further obscuring what they had
eventually done with The Sword’s Shadow.
The position Antony was offering was a prestigious one, and
one that would set Colin on a very fast track to promotion. There was no doubt
in Marx’s mind that Colin would be an ideal candidate. But it would mean an end to their current arrangement.
As much as the idea hurt, Marx did not in the least begrudge
Colin the success he deserved. But Marx had become accustomed to having Colin’s
things strewn about his house. In fact he’d been quite surprised at how easy it
had been to accommodate Colin’s presence in his previously solitary life.
But Marx knew he had no talent for wooing the way that
Antony did, he could only be honest which didn’t always serve him very well
with his peers.
“What were you going to ask me?” Colin’s appearance at the
doorway startled Marx.
“Oh, it can wait.” Colin came to sit next to him on the couch,
the flickering light from the fire brought out the red highlights in his hair,
but Marx curbed the urge to touch him.
“No tell me, you were excited when I came in.” Colin’s voice
was soft, encouraging. And also
stubborn. They had learned a lot about each other over the last several months,
and Marx knew Colin would wheedle it out of him eventually anyway. But uncertainty was still singing in his
ear.
“Well, it turns out I had a proposition for you as well.”
Colin raised an eyebrow, waiting, but not so patiently now.
“Alyssa called me into her office this morning. Apparently that Unseelie encyclopedia has
popped up again and this time the potential danger is much greater. The Seelie
Court would very much appreciate the Societas finding it and dealing with the
issue. And,” Marx kept his eyes
downcast, it might be cowardly, but he didn’t want to watch Colin’s expressive
face, if he was going to turn him down outright, “So I was given leave to ask
for your assistance in the matter, since your talents would be an enormous help
in this endeavor. You wouldn’t have to
decide right away, of course. I’d need
to explain the ramifications to you, both professionally and personally, and especially
in light of Antony’s offer, you’ll need to take time to consider… mmmhhhfff.”
Marx’s carefully chosen words were interrupted by suddenly acquiring
a lap full of fairly vibrating senior level librivenator, who appeared to be
trying to eat him alive. Marx raised his
hands to Colin’s head, threading his fingers through the mass of unruly curls,
urging him to gentle the kiss.
Eventually, they both needed to breathe.
As Colin leaned back, he narrowed his eyes, “You bloody fool. You weren’t going to tell me about what
Alyssa said after I told you of Antony’s offer, were you.” It was a statement rather than a question.
Marx felt guilt pinch his expression, “Your news did… give
me pause. Antony is offering you a tremendous opportunity.”
“What am I going to do with you?” Colin sighed and climbed off Marx’s lap to
sit next to him on the couch, pulling off his wet shoes and nestling in
close. “I know we haven’t had an opportunity
to talk much, especially lately with the increase in my studies, but… you have
become very important to me. So important in fact, that I can’t even seem to
entertain the idea of not having you in my life. I was flattered by Antony’s offer, but I
never considered it for a moment.
Because I’d been hoping I could convince you that we should work
together. That’s partly what Magister
Clemens and I have been working on, figuring out how you and I can both use our
talents to collaborate. What you do is
vitally important, and I want to help you, but more than that… I love you.” Colin paused, maybe to try
and gauge Marx’s reaction, but all Marx could do was stare.
A hint of steel crept into Colin’s voice, “I understand the
ramifications of working with the Vox Pessimires, and I understand the
ramifications of Antony’s offer. He feels guilty, he’s trying to make amends in
his way, but I don’t want it. It’s not what’s important to me. I choose you.
And I will choose you every time. But I
want people to know that I am yours
and you are mine.” The intensity with
which Colin spoke staggered Marx.
“I want that too,” Marx said quietly. “I just… needed to
make sure that you had a chance to be just yourself for a while, to the
others. So you could see how things
could be and make an informed choice.”
Colin turned his whole body on the couch to face Marx, “There
is no choice at all for me. If these
last few months have shown me anything, it’s that our place is together, and I
have a very strong feeling,” Colin looked
meaningfully into Marx’s eyes, no doubt seeking to remind him of what Colin’s
occult test scores had revealed about his Talent, “that it always will
be.” Colin leaned in again, this time
the kiss was slow and deep, and when Colin had drank his fill of him leaving
Marx a bit dazed, Colin pulled him close and spoke softly into his ear, “So,
Magister Marx, I accept your proposal. I am at your disposal, is that agreeable
to you?”
Marx smiled, he was completely under Colin’s spell now, and
he was willingly enthralled, “It is very agreeable, yes.”
With a triumphant gleam in his eyes, Colin sat back and
pronounced, “Alright then.”
But Marx could tell there was something else on his mine and
he nudged Colin’s shoulder, “Okay, now it’s my turn… spill. You have something else on your mind, what is
it?”
“Well, now that that’s settled, I know we agreed not to
exchange gifts and really, this is more of a professional tool that might come
in handy on our upcoming travels, but…” Colin suddenly seemed to deflate a little
becoming uncharacteristically shy. Marx
waited and eventually, Colin retrieved a small, flat box from his coat pocket, “I
have something for you.”
Marx took the parcel from Colin’s hand and immediately felt
the pulse of Old Magicke in his fingertips.
Intrigued, he undid the thin twine and lifted the lid. Nestled in delicate
cotton wool was a beautiful amulet, vibrant green in color and a design that
was very clearly fey in origin.
“Where did you find this?” Marx took it from the box and
rolled it between his fingers. It was warm to the touch, it felt alive. And if
he concentrated even a little he could feel… connections, threads... that he
could follow. He looked at Colin
quizzically, realizing he hadn’t answered his question.
Colin hesitated a bit longer then said, “Well, it’s a funny
story really. I was looking for
protection amulets, something that would… help keep you safe.” He cleared his
throat before he continued. Marx was fascinated; especially after the
confidence he had shown just moments ago, he had rarely seen Colin at a loss
for words. Finally he continued, “And as
I was looking, your, um, faery lady friend approached me and, we spoke for a
bit. She knew what I was after and told me of a place. This is… there is more
to it. She said you would understand and
we can talk about it later, but I wanted to give it to you tonight.”
That last words had come out all in a rush and Marx beamed, he
hoped what he felt was apparent in his eyes, because he knew exactly what Colin
meant about there being more to it. And he truly didn’t mind that the fey had
taken an interest in them again, that’s what family did after all.
The artifact was a
sort of protective talisman, but there was a great deal else it could do. It allowed a link to form between the giver
and the receiver. And it could be especially
powerful between two whose magus resonated as symbiotically as theirs did.
“Thank you Colin, this is extraordinary.” This time it was
Marx’s turn to lean in, deciding to only lightly brush his lips against Colin’s,
because he now had his own admission to make.
Slipping the gold chain around his neck and tucking the
amulet under his shirt, Marx reached beneath the pillow behind him and drew out
a small package of his own, “I did also forgo my own advice and I got you
something as well.” Marx felt his stomach tighten, but especially after the
gift that Colin had chosen for him, it felt right and it was something from his
heart, so he handed the package over to Colin without regret.
Colin tore the wrapping with enthusiasm, and looked at the
book in his hands, turning it this way and that. Marx knew what he would
see. A beautifully bound new volume of
poems - Marx knew quite a few very talented book binders - freshly pressed with
only a single word title on the first page, but no evidence of an author’s name.
“Is this a puzzle?”
Colin’s eyes twinkled with interest.
“Of a sort”, Marx tried to smile reassuringly, but he
couldn’t be certain how well he pulled it off, or who exactly he was trying to
reassure.
“Beloved”, Colin whispered the title to himself, clutched
the book to his chest and closed his eyes.
Marx watched as his brows slowly rose in wonder, “You wrote these poems…”
“Yes.”
“… About me.”
“Yes.”
“And you know I can…”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t mind…?”
“No.”
Colin took an unsteady breath, reached out and pulled Marx
into a tight embrace, guiding Marx down on top of him as they stretched out
beside each other on the couch. Marx
felt Colin tremble and pressed a gentle kiss to the soft skin below his ear. Colin wiggled underneath him, maneuvering to
intertwine their limbs. Eventually they were linked together almost as one.
Marx wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way, just holding
each other. It could have been moments
or it could have been hours. The fire still crackled cheerily when they finally
sat up and settled back into the cushions, shoulders pressed tightly against
each other, but he would definitely need to add another log soon.
“So… where do we begin our search for this wayward tome of
yours?” Colin’s voice was still thick with emotion.
“Egypt.”
Colin turned to him sharply, eyes widened into an expression
Marx could only describe as mischievous glee.
Oh yes, this was going to be quite the adventure indeed.
