Exploitation, page 5
SIX
NICODEMUS
It was clear Magnus never meant to share this place with another individual, not long term, based on the full sized bed in the loft and the fact that the only other bed in the place was a futon couch that folded down to sleep on.
What kind of life did she come from where she had to decide in a blink whether or not to attack the person at the door, and hiding from the entire world was status quo?
Then there was Bragi… There was what he’d told me about why they were allies but didn’t like each other, but I suspected there was a lot more to the story than I understood.
I was having as hard a time wrapping my mind around all of it as I was the news that I was a phoenix. How had I lived any of this, let alone all of it?
There was so much for me to absorb, and as far as I could tell, all this new information was based on the last thirty days of my life. If I was older than history, how had I remembered even a tenth of that up to this point?
As the night wound down, Bragi and I insisted Magnus take the bed. If anyone was going to share, it made sense she not be forced to sleep next to a man who didn’t remember her or one who refused to let her forget him.
It was odd sleeping next to Bragi. The kind of familiar one felt walking into a room they didn’t recognize, but they swore they’d been there before.
Breakfast in the morning was a stilted, awkward affair. Enough words were exchanged to accomplish not running into each other as we made coffee and ate cold cereal.
This was going to be a grand celebration of ongoing awkwardness. I hoped Magnus’s friends could help me. I refused to remain a liability to her or Bragi.
We wrapped up and Magnus took us to our next destination to meet Kirby. Apparently this woman was a Valkyrie—the last before she realized the power to make more, like Magnus—and she’d lived multiple lives and dealt with missing memories too. When Magnus called her, Kirby didn’t have any immediate insight to offer, but invited us over anyway, to see if she could figure something out.
Magnus landed us in front of a beautiful old cottage that looked like it could sit at the edge of the village I lived in. The entire feeling here was warmth and acceptance, but with a thread of look away, there’s nothing to see here layered through it.
Interesting sensation. At the edge of the property, every time I tried to view the house directly, my gaze wandered somewhere else.
As we walked up the path, I found it easier to focus on the home. At the front door, there was an arrangement of symbols around the door. Not a single language, and none of them anything I recognized.
Or did I? Norse runes. Celtic words. Egyptian symbols. Who were these people?
Who was I?
Bragi stood half a step behind us, and Magnus knocked.
The woman who answered was attractive, with her blond hair pulled into a mid-ponytail, and strands wisping loose around her face. She was only a few inches shorter than Magnus, but the way she held herself, the invisible power she radiated, made her feel larger than life.
“Hey.” The woman gave Magnus a tight smile and they exchanged hugs. “Why did you bring him?”
Magnus glanced over her shoulder at Bragi. “I keep asking myself the same thing, but I have reasons.”
“Lovely to see you too, Kirby.” Bragi’s tone was dry.
Who was he that so many people had this reaction to him? I had yet to find fault with him, so perhaps he was traveling in the wrong circles.
A man joined Kirby. He was taller, closer to my own two meters. From what I was starting to understand, the shimmer around him—that I was starting to assume not everyone saw—meant he was a god. One without much power, similar to Bragi.
Magnus turned to me. “Nico, this is Kirby and Gwydion.”
“Afternoon.” I gave them both a smile and a nod. “I don’t know if we’ve met before, but it’s a pleasure to do so.”
“You’re the man with no memories?” Gwydion asked.
“Aye.”
Kirby gave me a look that was half-smile, half-grimace, and all sympathy. “I’m sorry you’re burdened with that.”
“Come in.” Gwydion opened the door wider.
Magnus entered first, and there was a staring match with Bragi and Gwydion that seemed to last an eternity, but was probably barely more than a second, before Bragi stepped inside as well. I followed them all into a living room with hardwood floors, and beautiful wooden furniture. Modern amenities were dotted through it, though. Television, speakers, and modern windows were placed to look like they were part of the classic decor, rather than a contradiction.
“You know what? No. I can’t— Why is he here?” Kirby glared at Bragi.
Magnus twisted her mouth. “He has more information about Nico’s past than anyone I know.”
“Do you want me to go back and do things differently? I don’t have that power, do you? Do you believe your life would’ve turned out better if I hadn’t been involved? Just me?” Bragi said.
Kirby gritted her teeth and gave a half shake of head. “Fuck you, you manipulative, vile… ugh.”
“Would you rather we leave?” I asked. This conversation wouldn’t be productive if no one was interested in participating.
“No.” Gwydion gestured to the seats in the room. “Sometimes we have to keep questionable company, and this is about you, Nico.”
Magnus coughed, as if clearing her throat, and Kirby shot her a raised-eyebrow look.
It was fascinating to me how these women communicated with no words by default. I’d have to ask Magnus about it.
I sat on one of the sofas, and Magnus took the spot next to me, while everyone else settled as well.
“I’ve never met a phoenix before.” Kirby’s demeanor shifted toward fascination as she studied me.
I gave her a dry smile. “Neither have I. Not as far as I know.”
She let out a short laugh. “Reincarnation humor. My favorite.”
“Magnus tells me you’ve been through it—the reincarnation—several times,” I said. “That you lost your memories each time?”
“I think of it more as taking a few decades to find them, but otherwise yes.”
It was both comforting and frustrating to know I wasn’t alone in this. Why did the universe offer a path like this? Though, every gift came with a price. “How? Or maybe where do you find them?”
Kirby glanced over her shoulder at Gwydion. “Usually with him.”
That was hopeful.
“Do you hold onto them?” I gave my attention to Gwydion. “Is there a magical sort of box? Do you think I did something like that? Who would I ask? Where would I look?” The thread of excitement growing inside me at this news was unexpected, but I appreciated the glow. A tiny ember of hope in my chest.
“No.” Kirby’s answer didn’t match my question the way I hoped. “I can’t tell you exactly how it works, but I think the memories are always a part of me. The way I’m connected to Gwydion… There’s something about the threads that bind us that means when I meet him, my memories are drawn to the surface.”
Oh. “How would I discover if I had a bond like that with someone?”
“I’m a tool of fate.” A hint of bitterness seeped into Kirby’s response. “That’s why those ties are there. You’d probably need to be the same.”
“Not that she wants to be. Not that any of us do,” Magnus muttered.
Kirby shrugged. “Sometimes it’s better to recognize it than to try to fight it or second-guess it. You’ll drive yourself insane if you spend your life trying to defy an ethereal concept you know maybe one percent about. But several of my lives brought me back to him. To the others. Do you have anyone like that—” Another choked laugh and shake of her head. “Sorry. You wouldn’t remember.”
“If there’s anyone besides me, Nico never told me,” Bragi said.
So maybe Bragi did have my missing memories. Or at least, the key to them. “Do you think that would work for me?” I wasn’t letting go of this spark. “There are things about him, about Magnus, that are familiar. Could I be getting my memories back already?”
“Maybe? Reincarnation isn’t as rare as we think, and I know of at least one other who had a similar experience, but recovering what’s lost can’t be forced. It happens when the universe wants it to happen.” With Kirby’s response, Gwydion got up and left the room.
Did we upset him?
Magnus let out a growl of frustration. “There’s no way I’m taking sit back and see what happens as an answer.”
“None of us can just sit and wait,” Kirby agreed. “All I can do is tell you my experience and help you make some educated guesses.”
“What’s it like, having all those memories return at once?” I meant to save that question, but it slipped out.
The pain that crossed Kirby’s face shouted with eons of agony, and then her sympathetic almost-smile was back. “It’s hard to describe. I suppose it’s like being surrounded by hundreds of TV’s, playing every second of every TV show and movie ever, simultaneously. You can’t process it all at once, but your brain grasps it. It’s confusing. None of it is associated with anything else at first. It takes time to figure out which images and sounds and feelings go with which.”
Her nostrils flared and she dragged in a deep breath. “Except the death. I know instantly, I remember every single time I died, and the pain that came with it. But that’s part of my curse, so I don’t think you’ll have to deal with the same.”
“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say to that.
“You experience that to a point, Nico,” Bragi said. “I doubt it’s as vivid as Kirby’s, but you’ve told me when you come back to life, your previous deaths are like any other traumatic memory.”
That sounded horrific.
I still wanted it, though. A week ago, I was a little frustrated to have no past, and couldn’t accept that I may never. Then Magnus and Bragi showed up, and told me there was more to me than thirty or so years of missing experiences.
Sitting here, in this simple setting, surrounded by these implausible people, the impulse gripped me stronger than it had since I woke up with no memories—I desperately wanted to know what kind of lives I’d lived. That past was mine and I wanted it back.
“I wish I could help you more. You seem like a good guy.” Kirby leaned back in her seat.
She must’ve known before we arrived that she didn’t have answers. Why were we here? The abrupt revelation of wanting solutions came with a frustration that I was surrounded by stone walls keeping me away from them.
Inspiration struck. Now that I had a little more information, I was going to cram pieces together until they gave me a direction. Like Magnus said, I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.
“Do you know anything about recovering lost power?” If this process required someone who connected me to my past, and that person was Bragi, perhaps him becoming who he used to be would help me do the same. “Any of you? Not just Kirby.”
“Mine comes back with my memories,” Kirby said.
Magnus let out a long sigh. “Kirby gave me mine.”
“I can really only do that with Valkyries, and it has yet to work on other magical creatures.” Kirby pushed from her chair, and approached me. “I can heal, though. Would you like me to try?”
Magnus huffed, and turned on the couch to face me. “I should’ve tried that first. Eliminated all the options.”
“Not me.” Wait, what was I turning down? I didn’t have nearly enough knowledge to rule out any option. “Rather, please, yes. Try healing me, unless it’s going to kill me.” I laughed, and was met with glares. Tough room. “But I meant for Bragi.”
He grunted and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I think he wants to keep that a secret.” Magnus looked amused.
Right. No man wanted to admit he was impotent. “Apologies, but we’re here for answers.”
“I don’t have any for him.” Kirby reached toward me. “Your hand.”
“I may have something.” Gwydion was back, strolling through the room with a book in hand. “Finish what you’re doing.”
I placed my palm against Kirby’s. The tingle was light at first, like a foot falling asleep, or when it was too hot under the covers. The odd sensation became unpleasant, then hot. Scalding.
Flame erupted around Kirby’s and my hands where they met, and she jerked away with a sharp yelp.
The flame vanished the instant we broke contact. I wasn’t damaged in any way, but she had fared worse.
Gwydion dropped the book and sprinted across the room. “Are you all right? What happened? Let me see.” His soft demeanor was gone, banished behind a wall of surging and flickering power.
Kirby held up a scorched hand, similar to what Bragi’s had looked like last night after touching Dahlia. As with him, Kirby’s injuries faded in a blink. “I’m fine. But no, my magic isn’t compatible with yours. I can’t help beyond consultation, I’m sorry.”
The glow of hope inside me flickered. It didn’t die, but it was on shaky ground for something that had burned so intensely a short while ago.
SEVEN
MAGNUS
When Kirby was trying to help Nico, the emotions that surged inside me were more potent and cloying than the air around a perfume counter in the mall. Hope. Trepidation.
When Nico and Kirby caught fire, the fear nearly choked me, as it mingled with disbelief. I was used to sifting through feelings and giving them names—it was part of how I survived and hid my feelings at TOM.
But these felt different. As if not all of it came from inside me. Weird thought. Where else would it come from? If these were my emotions just a couple of months into pregnancy, these muddled, uncontrolled things, I might want to put myself in isolation for the next seven or so months.
“Let me see.” Gwydion was already at Kirby’s side, pulling her hand toward him. Examining her arm. Even if he weren’t a doctor, I suspected he’d be doing this. I felt concern. Confusion. Protectiveness.
Of course I did, because this was an intense situation, and I didn’t have any idea why things were unfolding this way.
“I’m fine,” Kirby gave Gwydion a reassuring smile. “Magical Valkyrie healing powers, remember?”
“What about you?” I asked Nico.
He wore a deep frown. “I wasn’t hurt. I’m glad your friend is all right. I didn’t mean to injure anyone.”
Guilt?
Did I feel that because I brought him here?
Yes, but mine tasted different.
“Well, that was fun.” Kirby’s voice was clear again. Matter-of-fact, with a large helping of let’s-get-back-to-business. “You found something?” she said to Gwydion.
I didn’t blame her for wanting to move on. There were no lasting injuries, and lingering in a crisis was dangerous.
Nico straightened in his seat. “I’m sorry. Is no one else concerned about the fact that I lit Kirby on fire?”
The sensation of confusion surged, but again, I didn’t feel it myself.
This wasn’t normal, was it? Anything we were doing? It was in our world, but I could see how to Nico, to someone who hadn’t been part of our lives, it seemed strange. “Like Kirby said, her magic doesn’t always work with other magics. She can’t heal Dahlia, either.”
“Does Dahlia ignite when Kirby tries?” Nico looked at me in disbelief.
“No.” Kirby lingered on the word. “But it’s not pretty. It’s more electric than helfire.”
Nico let out a cough. “Helfire. Not sure how I feel about that.”
“You dropped this.” Bragi picked up the book from where it had fallen, and handed it to Gwydion.
Bragi must be so proud of us right now. Pretending every traumatic moment was as normal and expected as ordering a cup of coffee.
Gwydion took the book from Bragi, and looked at Nico. “I’d say you get used to it, but you really don’t. They talk about it when they’re ready.”
Kirby smacked his arm playfully. “Hey now. No fair telling all our secrets.” Her voice was light but strained.
Nico was right—we were fucked up.
Gwydion sat in an overstuffed chair, and opened the book. Kirby perched on the arm next to him.
I was always fascinated by and a little jealous of the dynamic between Kirby and the people she loved. She was in charge. Queen mother-fucking-Valkyrie. She’d been team leader in school. In an operation, she commanded with an efficiency and grace that was unmatched.
And behind closed doors, she wasn’t interested. She let her loves take control the rest of the time.
What would it be like to trust a lover that much, let alone more than one of them?
And what would it be like if I could climb out of my own fucking head and pay attention to this conversation?
Gwydion was careful with the book as the heavy leather binding creaked open. He turned one thick page after another. “There’s an old fairy tale—literally part of fae lore—and it’s been centuries since I heard it. There’s a version in here though. About an old spring that runs through their realm and can restore lost things.”
“Lost things is vague,” I said.
He nodded. “If it’s vague in one of their stories, it’s on purpose. It’s meant to cover a lot of territory.”
“I know this one.” The way Bragi lingered at the edge of the throw rug made it clear he wasn’t a part of the group. He looked like an outsider wanting to step in. Wanting to join but knowing he wasn’t welcome.
Okay—where the fuck did those thoughts come from, and why did I feel the longing in them?
“Different retellings reference different missing items,” Bragi said. “Power. Memories. Appendages.”
That sounded like a neat trick. “So it can grow back a missing arm?”
“If you use it correctly.” Gwydion flipped a third of the way through the book, and hovered his fingers above the pages with reverence.
“Then it’s not just a matter of jumping in the water and making a wish?” Kirby asked.
