Secrets Best Kept

I set my tea down, looking my friend in the eye. "Give us the whole of it, then."

I take a swig from a bottle of rum i produced from my coat and simply mutter "girlie man".

I glance reprovingly at Ignacy. "Dreams are important, Ignacy. Often they hold great truths within them." Then I turn back to Djhuety. "Go on, lad. Tell us the dream."

putting the flute away after noticing a crack running along the bottom of it that would foul the sound I smirk "Besides Ignacy he drank more of the potent stuff then you did last night and didn't loose any organs so i wouldn't talk" lightly heckling our resident pyro

Shaking my head, I look at my friends, half smiling at Liam's comment before a crease furrows my brow. "Truthfully, I don't remember much, seeing how I woke up and almost killed myself in the process..." I rub my forehead absently, "I remember the smell of peat and white flowers... and dust and damp after the door... still air... then..." I frown. "It's all fuzzy past that; old women, young girls... teeth..."

"Teeth? Was there an animal in the dream then? What sort?" I ask, taking another sip of tea.

"I'm not sure. A fox, maybe... there was red... It felt so surreal." rubbing my temples, I close my eyes trying to concentrate... "She was crying." I say softly, thinking

I lean back thoughtfully, crossing my arms over my chest. "Red hair again." I say, my eyes far away. "Red hair. Like the woman in the dreams." I look up into Djhuety's face. "Are you sure you've never known a red haired woman? There's noone of that kind in my past, so I'm wondering if she's tied up with yours."

I blanch slightly and mumble "Might have..." and glance around at the others in an agitated manner. She's still there... drifting in the back of my mind and I look at Liv

I meet his eyes for a moment. Then I stand. "Tell you what," I say, looking across at Liam and Ignacy, "You two have a few drinks. We'll be back in a bit." I take Djhuety's hand, leading him out into the street. Aside from the ever-roaring traffic, it's fairly quiet on the street. I turn down a side-street that looks like it could have come out of Edwardian England, my hands in my pockets. "You said there were things we needed to talk about when we were alone. We're alone now. I think I need to understand this, especially since she's already gotten in my head a few times." I look up into my friend's eyes. It's hard to tell what color they've turned behind the glasses. Pity. But his mind is full of grey confusion, sorrow, fear, some sort of bitter anger the color of dried blood, and an ugly yellow that I associate with shame. "Who is she, Djhuety?"

"Leanan... I sent her away... maybe even changed her." I twist away, hiding my face. "She was the first that encouraged me to use my gifts for the fun of it, back when I was studying at university." I dig my hands into my pockets and hunch my shoulders, distancing myself a half-step from Liv.

"Sent her away? Why?" I almost wish I had not asked; his emotions grow all the darker. But I need to know, and if I don't ask I'll never find out from him.

I straighten, "I didn't do it on purpose!" I all but hiss through clenched teeth, feeling the heat on my cheeks and the red gold flames explode in my eyes. Liv falters a step and I instantly regret my explosion, the red of anger replacing with the reddening of embarrassment. "The story carried her away," I whisper, again averting my eyes, "The wolf ate red riding hood and her grandmother and the savior failed to arrive. The black coats came and took me soon after."

"Red riding hood..." I shake my head. "That doesn't make sense. You told a story that re-wrote her existence?" And the men in black, that doesn't make sense either...but then I remember, somebody had been holding him captive before he escaped to the Nightside. Djhuety looks away. I raise a hand, laying it on his shoulder. "Tell me what happened. Tell the story. Please, Djheuty. Help me understand."

A glance around, then take a seat on a dented dustbin. "I met her at university, where she was the TA for my Shakespearean Studies course... she was always looking at me, and during the few times that she taught at the front, she always favored me... I always went to her office with questions, and she always shared so much more then the text ever let on about William Shakespeare's life and habit that influenced his works. It wasn't long before she was asking me to write and memorize for 'our special sessions'; she pulled out my gift and made it work under my control, almost like she knew it was there the whole time... We left the offices and explored my gift and world. She had me start with fairy stories and before long, I had figured out how to turn it into a 'play' in which we were the primary characters and everyone else played secondary roles..." I shrug and take a deep breath before continuing, "We never realized just how badly the wrong word could mangle the story... She always said that Shakespeare could chose the right word at any time, and that I was no different; I wish to the fates she had never said that."

"And so the story went wrong? How?" I ask softly.

I collapse in on myself... "I don't know," I moan, "All I know is when I got there, there was nothing but the beast sitting there, a black mass that even as I watched, enveloped her, her eyes becoming its own before it rushed the door, knocking me aside, and disappeared into the night. Nothing I said brought it back, though I hope that I may have laid paths at that time to avenge her." Storm blue eyes behind tinted lenses causes my eyes to appear all but black in the shadows of the alley.

I can't bear to see him so angry, so ashamed. Slowly, carefully, I lay a hand on his back. He's stiff as a board. "It wasn't your fault, my lad." I say softly. "You never intended to do that. This Lenan, she lived up to her name, brought out your strength, and it got out of hand. It was no one's fault."

"Lived up to her name?" I say with a trace of a growl, "What does that mean... Leanen means lover... and she may have been at that... Its was confusing and didn't feel right to consider her that though."

I shake my head. "Lihiannan, the word that name comes from, means 'fire in the soul.' Some tanglefooted mumbletongue may translate that as lover, but that was never its meaning. The translation is something closer to 'inspiration' " He frowns at me, then turns away, averting his grey eyes.

I try to ask a few more questions as we walk on. I've still got so much that I need to understand to sort this all out in my head. If this woman was just a human, just a teacher, then how has she made it into my mind as well as his dreams? Did he make her something more than human in the story, or something less? Something about what he has said keeps flickering in the back of my mind like a fish in dark water. There's something I ought to remember, I think, but I can't seem to pin it down. And how had those men, the men in black that he speaks of, tracked him? More than that, why had they tracked him? What had they wanted him for? For his power? And more questions press behind those, things I still can't puzzle out. But when I try to broach even the smallest of these questions, Djhuety's answers are terse and uninformative. He's closed up again, as distant and unreachable as a star. Finally, I give up.
"We should get back to the others." I say, doing my best to sound cheerful. He nods shortly.