Weights and Measures

When her brother gets tangled up in an accidental demon deal, a young woman returns to her strange hometown to get him out of it — but going home means facing a deal of her own she's been avoiding.

Korinne West is an artist and writer from Texas. Growing up on tales of adventure and the power of human connection, she's spent the last decade or so writing her own stories. When not putting pencil to paper or geeking out about some space phenomena, they can be found cuddling their very fluffy cat or drinking copious amounts of tea. You can find her infrequently on Twitter @tealbrigade.

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When Jessalyn Hardy was twelve years old, she met the dragon who lived at the end of the street.

It should be noted that such an occurrence was hardly the strangest thing to happen in her tiny hometown of Bergamot Shores. This humble hamlet by the sea was an unremarkable thing, barely a blip on the map just north of Littora’s main port, no more than two streets and a handful of old houses. But the Hardys had lived there for generations and there was no point in leaving — even when a dragon moved into the Rodriguezes’ old house and caused a minor stir.

The supernatural wasn’t an unusual thing in Bergamot Shores, and the dragon really didn’t cause any trouble, so he quickly faded into the usual tapestry of life. It was a quiet town, a fairly boring place once you got used to the weirdness, which Jess supposed were ideal qualities if you were a dragon looking to relocate. 

As for Jess herself, she wouldn’t have chosen the place if she’d had a say in it. In middle school, a girl in her math class got jinxed by a pixie ring and couldn’t speak for a week. Then there was the incident where a woman who disappeared some twenty years back walked back into town during Jess’s junior year — exactly the same age she had been; despite technically being her parents’ age, she graduated with Jess’s class. Jess’s brother Kieran was in a band with a guy that Jess was pretty sure was a vampire. (She had no proof, though, and it seemed rude to throw around accusations. Kieran hadn’t come home with punctures in his neck or a sudden garlic allergy, so she supposed it was fine.)

Ordinary or not, she was quite happy to leave town as soon as she could. She picked a university as far away as was feasible — a couple provinces north for good measure — and booked it out of town as soon as she was allowed to move onto campus. She got a roommate, new friends. A spot on the school softball team. New favorite places to hang out in a new little town. And it was all so blessedly normal.

She should have known she wouldn’t get away for long.

“Really, Jess,” Kieran had said on the phone just that morning. Jess had finished her last final exam of the fall term, and she’d been looking forward to a nice, relaxing holiday break when her brother’s name lit up her phone. “It’s hardly a problem,” he’d gone on, “just a little misunderstanding, barely worth noting. I’ll get it sorted, don’t you worry. Really, you don’t have to bother driving all the way back…”

So of course as soon as the call disconnected Jess had packed a suitcase, loaded her car, and set off toward home. Because the “little misunderstanding” was anything but, and Kieran only called when something had him shaken. 

For the first time since getting her class schedule, Jess was grateful that her last exam had taken place so early in the day. She’d gotten a good start on the ten-or-so hour drive, but it was still long past the sun’s setting that she saw the first sign for Bergamot Shores. (The first sign being the city limit sign. The other mile markers didn’t even bother listing it as an option.) Jess’s hatchback ambled down the county roads, perhaps a bit too fast given how low visibility she had in the dark. But even after the months away, she knew these twists and turns like the back of her hand — taking them in the dark wasn’t an issue.

The Hardy farmhouse appeared long before the town proper did. In the daylight, it would be yellow with red trim, faded to beige and pink; on this half-moon winter night, with only the porch light for visibility, it was a solemn gray. Jess parked, sat in the dark for a minute to gather her resolve, then grabbed her belongings and headed up the lane to the front door.

Upon opening the door, she was immediately assaulted by two things: the overwhelming and comforting scent of thyme, and the overwhelming and annoying sound of her brother playing drums in the den. 

“Is that Jess?” a voice called over the cacophony. How the sound of the door opening made it over Kieran’s racket Jess had no clue. But around the corner, peeking into the entryway from the kitchen, popped a mess of curls tied loosely with a kerchief and a bespectacled pair of eyes. 

“Hey, Aunt Jenna,” Jess breathed in relief. She dropped her suitcase by the door and nearly ran to her aunt for a hug. 

Jess was practically crushed, and she didn’t mind a bit. “Glad you made it safe, honey,” Aunt Jenna said with a squeeze. She smelled of dried paint and fresh herbs and chopped vegetables, the latter of which was probably thanks to dinner. “Oh, I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too.” Jess sighed as she pulled away, getting a good look at her aunt. Jess had only been away four months, but it was still oddly reassuring that Aunt Jenna was exactly the same as before: early forties, laughter lines, and curls and complexion that matched Jess’s own, just with colors dulled by time. “How’s Kieran?”

“Just fine,” Aunt Jenna replied, which was concerning in and of itself, but more so when followed up with, “though he’s been practicing much more than usual lately…”

So clearly, Kieran hadn’t confided in their aunt about his problem. Jess schooled her expression into something pleasantly neutral instead of annoyed and changed tack. “And mom and dad?”

Aunt Jenna’s perpetually cheerful face fell just a smidge. “At a conference,” she said. “Callum said they’d be back in time for St. Saren’s Day, but…”

“Travel’s always delayed around the holiday.” Jess sighed. “Another holiday without them. Figures.”

“Hey now,” scolded her aunt, but she didn’t finish her rebuke. It was an old argument that didn’t need to be rehashed, and besides, Aunt Jenna couldn’t exactly dispute the evidence. That’s why Jess and Kieran had Aunt Jenna in the first place — with their professorial parents constantly gone a few days here and a couple weeks there for big conferences or symposiums, someone needed to be a consistent presence. And it couldn’t be Jess. 

“You look tired, sweetie,” Aunt Jenna said instead of defending her brother and sister-in-law. 

“Long drive today. And a final exam this morning. That’s all.”

“That’s fair.” Jess was pulled in for another hug. “Dinner’s almost ready, but go rest up if you need to. All right?”

“Yeah, all right. I’m gonna check on Kieran first.”

“Good luck,” Aunt Jenna said, then cut Jess loose and returned to the kitchen. 

First Jess grabbed her things and hauled them upstairs to her room, dust-free and unchanged from how she’d left it months prior. She passed photos on the walls of tiny versions of herself and her brother, some together, some apart, some with one parent but rarely with both at the same time. Jess ignored all of them, but it was that kind of ignoring that is so purposeful that it lingers on the back of one’s consciousness anyway. She headed back downstairs and toward the den, where the slamming and bashing of drumsticks on various surfaces continued to ring out. 

The “den” was actually just an unused and very tiny extra bedroom that had been converted into a catch-all work space. One entire wall was taken up by bookshelves, tome after tome on whatever various archaeological topics had ever been relevant to the Drs. Hardy’s research filling every inch. A cluttered roll-top desk with the family computer took up another wall, flanked by several framed university degrees. And the remaining space in the room was occupied by Kieran’s drum kit. 

Jess’s younger brother had headphones on, the chunky kind that cover your ears completely, so he didn’t hear her come in. He was flailing around in a manner that looked to Jess like nothing, just movement in sound, but she’d never been into music like he was, so what did she know? All she did know is that when he had that expression on his face — when these particular kinds of sounds were smashed out of cymbals and snare — Kieran wasn’t okay. And that was unacceptable. 

Jess called his name a couple of times to no avail, then walked up behind him and snatched the headphones off his head. She was almost brained with a drumstick when Kieran whirled around, half-yelling, “Agh, what the—saints on a saltine, Jess!” when he realized it was her.

“Hey, idiot,” Jess said. “Aunt Jenna says dinner’s almost ready.”

Kieran blinked. “Jess. You’re here.”

“Yeah.”

“I told you, you didn’t have to come back.”

Jess raised an eyebrow at him. “When have I ever listened to you?”

He stared for a second too long, then flung himself into Jess’s arms. “Don’t ever listen to me,” he whispered, and she squeezed as hard as she could. It was better, holding proof he was okay. 

But Jess had to pull away and look him in the eyes. “Kieran, what the hell is going on?”

He bit his lip and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. Keiran looked disheveled in a way Jess wasn’t used to seeing — sure, he was usually some level of gross; he was a fifteen year old boy. But his hair looked greasy, gone brunet instead of the usual dirty blond, like it hadn’t been washed in several days. The rumpled pullover and sweatpants he wore had enough little stains on them to indicate he’d been living in them for quite some time. There were bags under his eyes, and a slump to his shoulders that told Jess he wasn’t sleeping. 

“So, uh,” he started. “Really, it’s not…that bad…”

“We’re well past that,” Jess said. “Just tell me.”

Kieran flopped back into his seat at the drums, rattling the hardware. He steadfastly refused to meet Jess’s eyes. “Well,” he started. “I feel the need to preface all this with the fact that I am okay.”

“Physically,” Jess muttered.

“And like, normally, you keep me from doing stupid things, right? And you were gone…”

Those words were a knife in Jess’s chest, but she clenched her teeth and said nothing.

Kieran went on — a rambly mess, sometimes on topic and sometimes not. Something about losing the part-time job he’d just gotten at the pizza shop because the pizza shop turned into a pasta place. Something about teachers pushing for college applications already when he barely knew what he wanted to be. Something about his band having to go on hiatus because the guy whose house they practiced at was moving. A lot of somethings that probably would’ve been bearable had they not all happened at once.

But they had happened all at once, and it left Keiran willing to listen when someone unfamiliar sidled up with a deal.

I’ve been gone four months, Jess couldn’t help but think. How did things already go so wrong? She didn’t ask this, though, just rubbed her temples and asked, “Okay, so. What are the terms, then?”

Kieran tapped on the high-hat cymbal with two fingers. “That’s the thing,” he admitted, his mouth scrunched up. “I… don’t really know?”

“How. Do you not. Know.”

“I don’t know!” Kieran exclaimed. “Okay? I don’t know. I barely remember it happening. One second the guy was there, next second I’m shaking his hand. Something about… I don’t know, success? Direction? All at the low, low cost of free?”

Jess had to fight to keep from ripping her hair out. “Kieran, this is serious!”

“I. Know!” He jumped to his feet and began pacing around, nearly knocking into Jess with his elbows with every rotation. “But I don’t know what to do now. Like, clearly my immortal soul or whatever is at stake, right? But it’s all a blur, so I can’t figure out what I’m supposed to do next or what would cause it to break. I’m just, like, in limbo. There are no rules in limbo!”

“You didn’t tell Aunt Jenna?”

It was Keiran’s turn to give Jess a look. “No, because I’m not stupid. She’s been mothering me even harder than normal since you left, and you know she’d just rat me out to Mom and Dad. And the last thing I need is them showing up for once trying to be helpful. Or worse—” 

He cut off, looking away dejected, but Jess heard the unspoken words. Or worse, not show up at all.

“Okay, well,” Jess said, bringing her tone back to something resembling sympathy. “I’m here now. And we’ll figure it out. That’s what we do, we look out for each other.”

He crossed his arms like he was cold. “Please, you don’t need me looking out for you,” he muttered, but there was no malice there. Jess slung an arm around his shoulders and her brother leaned into her. 

“That’s what older sisters do,” she said, and he cracked a half smile. “Now, come on. I think Aunt Jenna’s made stew or something.”

“Is that what that smell is supposed to be? It’s too… herby.”

“It’s always too herby,” Jess said. “That’s why it’s good. C’mon.”

Dinner was in fact a slow-simmered red-wine stew, definitely too thyme-heavy, but a familiar fixture at the Hardys’ in winter. Jess caught them up on life at university, and Keiran caught her up on the latest goings-on at the local high school. They both carefully avoided what had really brought Jess back for the holiday, and Aunt Jenna didn’t ask — she seemed relieved that Kieran had emerged for a meal for once.

After the meal, Jess directed Keiran to get a shower, for goodness sake, and retreated to her bedroom to try and get some rest after that whirlwind of a day. She lay there under stiff sheets and a worn comforter, lulled by the radiator sound but too alert to truly sleep. Staring at the ceiling, she wracked her brain for any way to sort out Kieran’s problem.

There was one obvious solution, but Jess really didn’t want to resort to it. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to have much choice.

When Jess had left Bergamot Shores back in the summer, she’d done so with the intention of not coming back if she could help it. She’d thought at the time that she’d gotten all her ducks in a row: her parents would be predictably unreliable, but Aunt Jenna would be a consistent presence, and Kieran would be fine. She thought she’d ensured it.

For all she bemoaned the strangeness of her hometown, for all she insisted on normalcy, Jess couldn’t really fault her brother for getting into something. She’d be a hypocrite to do otherwise. 

When Jess was twelve, she met the dragon who lived at the end of the street.

When she was seventeen, she made a deal with him.

• • •

When morning arrived, misty and dull, Jess dragged herself out of bed begrudgingly. She’d almost hoped that everything she’d learned the night prior had been a bad dream — that she was just back for the winter break, and at least one Dr. Hardy would be around to celebrate with them, and Kieran was up to no good, sure, but not in any actual trouble. 

But reality was what it was, so Jess got ready for the day, slowly and reluctantly. The shower was running when she went downstairs to find something for breakfast; from the electronica thumping through the sounds of water on tile, it must be Kieran finally cleaning off. (At least one tiny sign that Jess did the right thing coming home.)  Then, protein bar acquired from the pantry, she went outside and dug her old bike out of the shed, dusted off the seat and tested the vaguely rusted chain, and she set off down the lane toward town. 

The dirt road gave way to gravel, and gravel gave way to worn pavement as she took the twists and turns around cypress and pine. Soon the road straightened out and buildings crept closer as she made progress, until finally she was in Bergamot Shores proper. It wasn’t much to write home about — one building that housed both courthouse and post office, a few small storefronts, a couple of restaurants — and it was just the one street, with a single intersection in the middle. (Jess remembered when they replaced the four-way stop signs with an actual traffic light hanging from wires. It was a big debate amongst the locals which was better.)

Jess didn’t stop in town, but she slowed down a little. They had a bike lane for about three blocks (if you can have blocks without intersection streets, anyway) and she cruised in it, waving to locals on the sidewalk who recognized her. The only thing that had changed in the few months she’d been away was in fact the pasta place where the pizza shop used to be. Jess flipped off that storefront on Kieran’s behalf as she rode by.

She kept riding, as pavement returned to gravel and the buildings grew further and further apart again. This side of town was more residential than the opposite side with the farmhouses — a little lane lined with old homes that continued almost until you reached the shore.

When the ocean was in sight, gray and restless, so too was Jess’ destination: a slightly decrepit wood-paneled house in cerulean blue, long faded. Its porch was dripping in ivy and moss, one of the steps up to it rotted through. The windows had that frosted look to them that came with old age and irregular cleaning, so it wasn’t possible to see clearly what was inside. All in all, if it weren’t for the windchimes dangling from every possible inch of the overhang and causing a perpetual, discordant clamor, the house easily looked abandoned. That’s what Jess had thought once, anyway…

She knew it didn’t look like much on the outside, but the outside didn’t have the solution to her problem. So she leaned her bike against the most stable-looking section of railing, hopped over the rotted step, and walked up to the front door. With a deep, steadying breath, she lifted her fist to knock.

Before she got the chance, the door swung open, and the dragon was blinking at her quizzically. “Jessalyn Hardy,” he said. “As I live and breathe.”

Jess awkwardly lowered her hand, sticking it in her pocket instead. “Hey, Fen.”

The two stared at each other for a moment, and Jess imagined what the sight must look like to an outsider, him looking at her like she was the mythical creature to be ogled. He looked the same as he always did — mostly like a person, with dark skin the color of the earth he once came from and covered in scars and lines like a cross-section of a mountain steep. The only things that would immediately give him away as anything other than human were the wings and tail  covered in mottled green and brown scales equally worn and marked with evidence of fights long past. The tail flicked behind him like a curious cat as Fen studied Jess.

Then he stepped back, gesturing for her to enter. “Well, come on in and tell me what’s going on.”

“Thanks.” She did, stepping over the door stop and hovering awkwardly in the entryway. The house smelled like an antique store, that warm woodsy smell of dust intertwined with something like thyme. Fen moved past her toward where Jess knew the kitchen was. 

“Coffee?” he called back.

“Please,” she answered. While he puttered about in there, the sounds of running water and equipment clanking filling the air, Jess looked around. The house hadn’t changed, either — a perfectly normal coastal home, the air con a little bit too warm for Jess’s comfort, and every surface completely covered in miscellaneous knick-knacks and clutter. Actually, no, the house had changed, because Jess could swear that it was stuffed with even more things than the last time she’d been here.

Fen was a collector of… well, any old thing, really. Busted typewriters. Old sewing tables with featherweight machines built in. Various appliances in an array of conditions, working or otherwise. He told her once that he liked giving old things new use, and he hated supporting this new trend of planned obsolescence. Jess just thought he was a hoarder. 

The main thing he purposefully collected, though, was weaponry — Fen’s house was practically a wartime history museum. Gilded ceremonial swords with elaborate sheaths dated to the Age of Kings hung between polearms with intricate metalwork from centuries later. Jess couldn’t place most of it, and not for lack of noteworthy features — there was a blade like no sword she’d ever seen resting on a little stand against one wall, peace-tied with sage cloth and an ornate etching of a wolf along the hilt, as one example. Then there was the double-bladed axe, seemingly forged in dark red blood, straight-up embedded in one wall. Last time, it had stuck out of the living room wall, just over Fen’s favorite armchair. Now, it was above the fireplace, like some strange mantlepiece. It moved around occasionally, though Jess had never seen evidence of it damaging the house with each new location. That weapon in particular always gave Jess a strange chill down her spine.

“You can sit, you know.” Fen’s voice startled her as he came back into the living room, two mugs in hand. One of these he passed to Jess, who took it, grateful for something to occupy her hands. 

She looked pointedly at the living room furniture, each piece of which was covered in Fen’s hoard. “I didn’t want to touch anything. Might get cursed, or eaten by a sentient box, or whatever other horrors you have hiding in here.”

“No horrors,” he promised, with a fangy grin that was not reassuring at all. “The landlord put a ‘no horrors’ clause in the lease after the pixie incident.”

“I don’t even want to know,” Jess muttered, but she cleared away a spot on the couch opposite the armchair he had settled in. She brushed away rusted tools and scraps of vintage postcards, then was sitting looking at Fen looking at her. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her now. He looked, as always, like he’d been through a war twenty times over. (Which wasn’t actually far from the truth — his full name was Fenlairen the Wartorn, Protector of the Fathoms, Glorious Victor and Defender of the Small, and he was supposedly as old as creation itself. She’d asked him once why he lived as a person in a tiny human town after lifetimes of almightily protecting the realm from horrors within and without, and he’d just shrugged and said he was retired and the beach was a nice change of scenery.)

“So, Jess,” he said after the silence had stretched just a bit too long. “I don’t get the feeling this visit is about how Fiachran’s treating you.”

“Go Owls,” she replied sullenly, and took a sip of her coffee to stall just a bit longer. It was made exactly how she liked it, strong with a splash of cream, and she was somewhat annoyed by this considering she’d only started drinking coffee once she went to university and he had no reason to know this information. (She supposed Fen could collect more than just objects. It would hardly be the weirdest thing about him.) Finally, she sighed. “No. Not a social visit. Keiran’s gotten himself into a bit of trouble.”

Fen frowned. “What kind of trouble?”

Jess explained what little she knew. “I don’t even know how to begin fixing this,” she finished, “because of course my brother would get himself into some kind of demon deal and not even know how he did it. That would be too simple.”

“He’s a good kid,” Fen said, as if trying to soften the unsaid “but he’s stupid” that Jess’s mind was certainly supplying to finish that sentence. There was an uncomfortable edge to his voice, though, like he knew Jess was implying something about his involvement in Kieran’s predicament. 

Jess supposed she was implying something, so it was only fair to just be out with it. “I thought he would be safe while I was away.”

“Per the arrangement we struck.”

“Well.” His tone made Jess feel a bit nauseous, even though it wasn’t accusatory at all. “Yes, obviously.”

Fen hummed, taking another sip. “That’s fair,” he said, and Jess exhaled just a bit. “Perhaps we both got complacent.”

“Complacent?” Jess protested. Fen raised his eyebrow at her, but not fast enough before Jess continued, “I didn’t get complacent. We had a deal. You’d make sure Kieran was okay. He is not okay!”

“Our deal went both ways,” Fen reminded her. “And this is certainly the first I’ve heard from you since we struck it. Not exactly what we agreed upon.”

Jess opened her mouth to retort, but closed it. He had a point. She thought she’d have time…

The dragon sipped his coffee, staring at the wall with the axe embedded in it. He pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged in the chair; it looked awfully uncomfortable, but he seemed content with that arrangement. “I don’t like that a demon’s running around here,” he said when Jess didn’t answer. There was a threat in his voice, and it gave Jess goosebumps, even knowing it wasn’t directed at her. “That should not be the case.” 

“You didn’t know? I thought you had the whole town under watch or something.”

A laugh burst out of him, cutting through the tension in the room. “You greatly overestimate my abilities. No, no watching. I just listen and pay attention… though clearly something slipped under my radar.”

Jess frowned, looking down into her mug and swirling its contents slightly. Maybe this was all a huge mistake. He said himself that she overestimated him; maybe this was always going to happen, and she should cut her losses and move back home and make sure that—

“Jess, stop thinking.” Fen’s voice yanked her back into the moment with a start. “Hold off on re-planning your entire life and wait a few minutes, hmm?”

“I hate that you know me so well,” she muttered. There was no sense pretending she hadn’t been doing exactly that. Ever since she was twelve and tumbled into Fen’s front yard falling off her bike, he’d been a constant presence. A friend, albeit a very strange one. Someone to confide in, to whinge to about her parents being gone all the time and trying to look out for her little brother in a big empty house and how tired of it all she was.

She knew that he’d done his share of looking out for her and Keiran, deal or no. They had never gone more than a day completely without supervision growing up, but even when one of their parents was home, they were still… absent. Absorbed in their work, or the next dig, the next conference, the next trip away. Fen kept an eye out, made sure Jess had someone she could call in an emergency. But a dragon trying to live a nice, retired life in a sleepy coastal town could only put himself out there so much before the townspeople got nosy. And the last thing Jess wanted was people up in their business.

(She still remembered when people got nosy about the Park drama a few years ago. A couple got themselves tangled up in some sort of gnome-related trouble, and then townsfolk got to poking around, which made the gnomes madder, which got the Parks in even more trouble…)

“What do I do?” It rushed out of her, soft and fierce, a guilty sense of relief at passing the burden. “He’s my brother. I can’t just let him get his soul eaten or whatever. I’m supposed to look out for him.”

Those words, an old refrain, the summary of her life to date. Kieran, who trusted too easily and dreamed too big and who wanted to escape from Bergamot Shores even more than Jess did — Kieran, who would make stupid, stupid mistakes on the off chance he could ensure it. She should have taught him better. She should have been here. She should have…

Look after your brother, Jessy. He needs someone to look out for him while we’re gone.

Well, Jess needed someone too.

“I did tell you,” Fen said softly, “that it was only a temporary solution.”

“I know.” She sniffed, horrified to feel the prick in her eyes and the clench in her chest of oncoming tears. “You did. And it’s all going to hell and I still owe you for it.”

Fen got up and sat next to her, pulling a box of tissues from somewhere, and she blew her nose loudly into one. His wing draped over Jess’s shoulder like some very rustic weighted blanket. “You were a kid,” he said. “You had a lot of responsibility you shouldn’t have had to bear. No one could blame you for needing help or wanting to get away.”

Jess snorted loudly. “Sure, but most people just leave, not make stupid deals. Must be a Hardy thing.” She risked a glance over at him. “I thought you’d be angry. That I still left after everything.”

He looked at her quizzically. “I’m not angry at you. I knew how much you wanted to get out of this town. I didn’t expect you to stick around just because you owed me something.” He smirked, one sharp tooth visible in the grin. “I’ve been around a while. I know how to be patient.”

Jess groaned. “Well, thanks for making that clear from the get-go.”

“But enough being maudlin over the past.” Fen stood then, and Jess missed the warmth of him as he stretched his arms over his head, wings shivering. “I think I have a solution for your current problem. Kieran’s problem.”

“What, you’ve got some gold laying around you’re willing to donate to the cause? If that’s even what the demon wanted…”

“No. Well, I mean, I do have quite the collection of antique currency, yes, but not what I mean.”

He turned back to face her, and Jess suddenly felt incredibly small as he towered over her. “I don’t like the idea of a demon hanging around my town, and I certainly don’t like that it’s bold enough to make deals here. Perhaps instead of my helping you get Kieran out of his deal by fulfilling it, I help by taking care of the bigger problem.”

“By…” Jess’s eyes widened. “Uh, okay. But where does that leave us?”

“The price,” Fenlairen said, “is this: what I did for you before is undone. You’ll still owe me that favor, but for the rest of it… it’s time you sort that out on your own terms, not mine.”

She wanted to bristle at how casually he said it, as if she hadn’t spent her whole life trying to sort it out. As if she didn’t resent her own lack of courage. As if agreeing to this wouldn’t take away someone she’d grown to love, even if she’d known it wasn’t real.

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Sacrifice and choice. She gave one, he gave the other. Equal weights, the scale evened out. And if it meant saving Kieran…

That’s one choice she will always make.

“I think I can live with that,” she said. She still held her mug, so she swapped it to her left hand and stuck her right out to shake and seal the deal.

Fen took her hand in his, and she had just a moment to be profoundly aware of the calluses on his fingertips before he raised her hand to his lips. The kiss he pressed to her knuckles burned her skin, but it had nothing on the fire that blazed in his eyes as something transcendently powerful stared back up at her. Jess swallowed hard, and found she couldn’t quite breathe, because the deal took hold and something ancient and unyielding swallowed her up, swallowed up everything —

When he let go, she staggered back. But Fen wasn’t looking at her anymore. He strode to the wall with the fireplace and pulled from the mantle the double-bladed axe, its dark rust color suddenly shining like fresh blood. Warmonger, he’d called it once, and Jess felt in a deep, primal way exactly how it had earned that name. He pulled it from its place in one swift move, easy and fluid despite how heavy it must be, and if Jess felt small before, she felt positively microscopic now.

Fenlairen the Wartorn — Protector of the Fathoms, Glorious Victor, Champion of the Small — with weapon in hand, had a promise to fulfill.

“Then our slate is clean,” he said, voice booming, setting everything in the house rattling. A wicked grin split his face, fangs out and eyes full of bloodlust. “And the hunt begins.”

Jess threw her hands up to protect her face from the sudden gust of wind that ripped through the house, his gleeful bellow swirling on the gale. She caught flashes of dragon scale like gorges in the mountainside, felt chills like an avalanche from his laughter. She thought she caught a whiff of thyme. 

And then all was quiet. Fen was gone.

Shaking, Jess bent down to pick up her coffee mug, thankfully empty, that had clattered to the ground in the chaos. She took it to the kitchen, where she had to lean her whole body weight against the sink until she was calm enough to leave the house at the end of the lane, pick up her bike, and head for home. 

This time, no one greeted Jess at the door when she arrived. It was still morning, but approaching midday; normally, on a weekend like this, lunch would already be in progress, halfway ready and filling the air with savory aroma. Instead only the smell of old books and stale tea leaves permeated the air. Jess’s heart didn’t know if it should sink to her stomach or rocket up into her throat. Did it work?

Kieran wasn’t in the den drumming away his feelings. Nor was he in the room across the hall from Jess’s, though the window was open. Despite her apprehension, the sight made Jess smile out of nostalgia. His bedroom window was right on top of the porch awning, and the two of them had hidden out there since they were old enough to not fall off. 

Jess walked over to the open window and peeked her head out and up, and saw her brother perched on the roof some feet away. “Hey, dummy,” she called out as she climbed over the sill and carefully made her way over. 

Kieran was laid out on the shingles like a sunbathing lizard, his hands tucked behind his head as a cushion. He peeked up at her upside-down as she approached and didn’t even react to the affectionate insult. “Hey.”

“No one else home?” Jess asked, knowing what the answer should be, but not entirely sure what answer she really wanted.

He squinted at her quizzically. “No. Mom and dad are at that conference, remember?”

Jess had to fight to keep her face from scrunching up in pain. Her deal with Fen — someone to look out for Kieran — someone to look out for both of them. Someone not actually real. Thanks, Aunt Jenna, she thought to herself as she plopped down next to her brother, legs dangling off the roof. For trying. 

Kieran sat up and twisted around so he was perched on the edge too, and Jess stretched out, kicking his foot playfully with hers. It felt so familiar, even after all the time away. Her and her brother.

“Anything interesting happen while I was gone?” she asked. “We didn’t really get a chance to catch up when I got in last night.” Well, they had, but Jess needed to know what was different.

Everything Kieran said before spilled out of his mouth again, verbatim, every setback that, before, had led to a very poor choice. But this time he just shrugged. “It sucks, but like, whatever. I guess I’ve got three more years to go anyway to figure things out…”

Jess tackled him in a hug, and Kieran screeched, trying to shove her off and keep balanced on the ledge. But his efforts were halfhearted, and the yelling was tinged with laughter, the first positive sound she’d heard from him since she’d gotten back. 

“Maybe you could come visit me at school on breaks,” she said. “I’ll show you around Fiachran. It’s a nice campus.”

“Ugh, don’t make me think about college campuses, my teachers are already doing that,” he grumbled, but Jess recognized the glimmer in his eyes. 

“Come on,” she insisted. “It could be fun. See somewhere new. There’s a place that makes amazing pancakes…”

He huffed, trying to be indignant, but only sounding amused. “I’ll consider it,” he said. “And only because you said pancakes. Maybe by then I’ll have a new band and we can go on tour up your way.”

“Yeah, who’s this band you’ve been playing with?” she asked. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

So Kieran went into it all — all his friends, how sophomore year was going, even his job and the coworker-turned-friend he got out of it before being let go. He was making music, and he was having fun, and even with all the setbacks, he seemed to be doing all right. Only Jess noticed the Aunt Jenna-shaped hole in his stories, but then again, they weren’t really holes at all. He was doing fine on his own. She needed to give him a little more credit. 

They stayed there and talked until lunchtime came and went and both of their stomachs grumbled. It was good, Jess thought. The two of them. Together. 

“You think mom and dad will manage to get back in time for the holiday this year?” Kieran asked, yawning, as they went back into the house and down to the kitchen to cobble together sandwiches. “They didn’t last year.”

She heard the forced casualness of it, but the genuine longing peeked through the curtain of apathy. Jess let the complicated feelings knotted up in her chest sit there. She let herself be angry for once, some at herself, sure, but mostly at the source of all of this. “They’d better,” she grumbled. “I want to give them a piece of my mind.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” he said, uninterested facade gone, immediately on board. “Okay, they’re at a conference, right? We’ll need an emergency to get them back. How should we lure them here, do you think?”

“Hmm. I’ll call and say you got kidnapped. Maybe with a ransom they have to personally pay.”

“Boring,” Kieran scoffed. “I’ll tell them you got caught in a burning building at school. You’re in a coma, and being home with family is the only thing that will break you out of it.”

“Okay, wow, rude,” she said, thwacking him on the arm. “I didn’t cause you bodily harm in my fake scenario!”

“Okay, fine, fine.” He batted her away with a grin. “We’ll say that you decided to drop out of school. Or that I made a deal with a devil or something crazy like that.”

Jess’s breath caught, but it quickly turned into a laugh. “Yeah,” she said, pulling him into a hug. “I bet that’ll work.”

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