Kit

Rain slid down the window in a comforting rhythm, and the day outside looked soft and gray.

It was a lovely day for sitting in a window seat, curled up with a book.  Wes had been very kind and bought me a highly technical book about classical Swiss watch movements in high-end watches, especially those from last century.  It made for fascinating reading, although perhaps just if you were interested in clockworks.

He'd said it was an early birthday present, but I knew very well he'd get me another present when it actually was my birthday, even if I told him not to.  He spoiled me so — and I loved it.

We'd settled into a comfortably easy routine here at Skeffield Manor.  Things were always busy, with new people coming to join the staff, others moving on as they found different jobs or reunited with friends and family who had become more accepting of their mechanicalization.  I was glad it had become such a way station of hope.  But for us, it was a place to settle in with our dog and our books, the clocks I repaired, the odd jobs and organization Wes did for the manor.

I was still friends with Louie, although not as close as I had been, because he was often busy now, travelling for work.  I rarely strayed from the quietest of routines.  My most strenuous activities were repairing the clocks, a gentle walk in the afternoon or evening, and reading.  Well, and sometimes the things Wes and I got up to in the privacy of our room.  And very nice they were, indeed, although perhaps not as strenuous as all that.

My heart condition had neither improved nor worsened for a while, and while I'd have liked to say I was getting stronger, healthier, and more hearty, in truth I was glad just to be maintaining the slight strength I did have.  It cut down on Wes's worry, for one thing.

The man was inclined to worry about me, however perfect a partner he was in other ways.  I still gazed down at the ring he'd bought me, twisting it on my finger quite often, thinking about what it represented to him — to us.  While we couldn't actually marry, we could pledge our love and lives to one another privately, and we had done so. 

Despite the occasional bout of nerves and a feeling of worthlessness, I had actually come to believe that this was it, that he meant it and wasn't going to change his mind and leave me.  I knew I wasn't going to change my  mind about him, but the fact was, Wes was far more of a catch than I ever had been or could conceivably be.  So I was very grateful, and when I thought about it, I felt very lucky indeed.

But more and more, I was able to take it for granted, to not worry about the future or feel that I'd never be worthy of the man I loved.  It had become routine, as so much else had, and I welcomed that.  To be secure enough to not wonder and think about it all the time — to just accept it as truth — that was an amazing state in which to live.

I was thinking these daydreamy thoughts rather than actually concentrating on my book when someone entered the library.  I looked up. 

Gareth, and for once without his bodyguard Rollings!  I was surprised to see him, although he'd been out of his wheelchair for some time now.  His recovery had been slow, but relatively painless.  None of us knew him well enough to be deeply distressed by the change in him (although Louie seemed to be making a good crack at it), and he'd been slowly getting stronger and more aware for some time now.  But to see him coming into the library was a bit different.  As far as I knew, he wasn't yet well enough to enjoy reading.  Perhaps that had changed.

I held still and watched, not wanting to frighten him off (although whether I've ever frightened anyone off is another matter for later discussion), and watched what he did.

With a furtive look over his shoulder, he headed straight toward me, not with an aimless, distracted walk, but briskly.  "Kit?  I need your help.  Can we talk?"

My mouth gaped open.  "What?"  He could speak again!  Then why was he approaching me?

I remembered another time he'd approached me, and I'd thought he might be flirting with me, then scolded myself for being silly, and reminded myself sternly that I was happily in a relationship.  (Both were true: but it wasn't often I'd had even the faintest hint of someone finding me attractive, and I'd cherished that moment, however silly I'd been to think it).

Gareth had turned out to be something of a spy, and, however much he'd redeemed himself (and paid for it painfully) later, I still found myself wary of him now.  He was a tall, rangy, handsome man with glasses, dark eyes, and soft-looking sandy hair.  He normally had the slightly bumbling air of a scholar who had forgotten something, but he hadn't even been that aware lately.  He often had a small gray cat sitting on his lap as he stared at nothing.

Today he had a purposeful stride, which was nice to see for his recovery, but he was thinner than ever, as if a lot of his muscle had been burned away by the pressures of his captivity.

He looked so much more alert than he had earlier in the day, when I'd glimpsed him on his way to breakfast, followed by his bodyguard.

A creepy feeling shivered up my spine.  Had he been more aware all along, and spying on us?  But no, why would he?  And anyway, why reveal himself to me now?  The idea gave me pause, even though I didn't give it much credence. 

I eyed him nervously and pulled my legs up a little closer to my body, like a child trying to make himself smaller.  I realized it only after I'd done it and felt stupid, but didn't move again in case I drew more attention to my awkward limbs and odd posture.

"Yes?" I asked him nervously.  "What is it?"

He looked around, paranoid.  "We are alone, aren't we?  I never can tell with this labyrinth of a house."  He shuddered.

"Um, yes, we're alone."  The rain drummed comfortably outside, and I wondered how he would possibly be afraid in here. 

But he was: his eyes filled with a kind of torment.  He ran his hand back through his hair and gulped.  "Um, okay, I don't know how long I have, but I need to know.  Can you tell me...where's Silus?"

And now it all made sense.  The agony in his eyes was from not knowing.  He hadn't been faking it all along; he was starting to feel more like himself, but not yet sure whom he could ask, whom he could trust, or most importantly, why his partner wasn't here.

He was very attached to Silus, whatever he wanted to say about it.  Personally, I found Silus extremely unnerving and abrasive, but there was no denying these two meant the world to each other, however much they might once have fought it.

I felt my gaze softening and my tight, nervous posture easing.  "He went on a mission to earn your freedom.  I don't know exactly what.  They wanted him to do something, and Robert and Louie convinced them you could come here to recover while he was away."

Now he looked even more frantic.  "How long?  How long has he been gone?"

"Three weeks, the same amount of time you've been here."  It had gone from nearly winter to properly spring in that time — including all the rain that came with it.  And the greenery, birds nesting, and kittens appearing.

Our dog, Lolly, had gotten muddy every single day this week, as had her hangdog, oversized best friend, Cesar.  I was still a little wary of Cesar, seeing as he could bowl me over if he even waved his tail too hard in my direction.  So far, he'd behaved himself around me, however.

I had less to do with the dog care, as the staff and Wes ended up doing more for them than I could.  I minded it, but at the same time, knew I needed to accept my limitations.  If I pushed too hard against them, I usually ended up with more — such as being confined to bed rest for days, and having Wes upset and frantic with worry over me. 

So I was a hands-off dog owner most of the time these days, but I still liked the muddy little scamp.  She'd saved my life once, and she was a good dog for all her wild ways.  She'd brought me and Wes together.

"Three weeks!"  He reached up as if to tear out his hair, an expression of anguish on his face.  "Where?  Did they say where he was?  What he was doing?  Oh, my dear Silus.  Why would he agree to that?  Why?"

I just stared at him.  Why did he think?  "Do you have some idea where he's gone?" I asked instead.

He shook his head quickly, but his eyes were wild, frantic, and anguished.

"Look, why don't you sit down?  Don't make yourself sick again."

"I — I wasn't sick.  I was just..."  His voice trailed off and he frowned.  "Absent.  Cut off from my magic, and myself, and — it doesn't matter!  Where's Silus?  I must find him!"

"You need to take care of yourself so you're better when he's back.  Look, don't get so upset.  We can ask Robert, maybe he'll know.  And I think Louie has contacts in the ministry.  He might be able to find out.  Why don't you ask them this evening, when they get back from their party?"

Louie was away a lot for work lately, and Robert was always busy with some project or another.  When they were both here, they still often weren't.  Today they'd gone to a big party at the neighbor's.  I'd never been there, but from what I'd seen of Deeks, he was a good person, if a bit highbrow. 

It was a party for wealthy people, and we weren't invited, so we'd been saved the trouble of turning down an invitation because of my health.  Wes wouldn't have gone without me, I knew that, and I wasn't really up to such a pointless stress at the moment.  If I ever would be again.

"They're at some sort of fundraising party," I informed him, as if I knew all about such high-flying things.  "They'll be back soon."

"No!  No, you mustn't tell anyone I spoke to you!  I don't know who I can trust, or who might be after me from the ministry or Bauer.  Please, don't tell anyone.  I only approached you because I thought I could trust you."  His eyes begged me, a sick plea of desperation.

He seemed so frantic I promised quickly.  "No, of course I won't.  I can ask, though, if you think it's important.  I can pretend I'm just curious."

"Yes."  A little of his terror lifted, and he seemed to be breathing again.  "Yes, ask.  Thank you, Kit.  I'll remember this."

"No need."  I was blushing.  "I don't mind.  You...um, someone's—"

I broke off as the door opened.  Rollings stuck his head round the door and looked around quickly.  "Gareth?  There you are.  Why are you wandering around?"  He spoke in a jovial, caretaking sort of voice, the same sort of voice I'd have absolutely hated if aimed at me.  A kind of "you don't know what's good for you, silly boy" voice that was very condescending, and grated quickly on one's nerves.  Even if you were ill and needed extra care.  It didn't mean you were brainless.

Gareth was doing a good impression, though.  He'd allowed his limbs to go slack, so he was standing sort of hunched, and his face had become vacant, his gaze distant and a little glazed.  It was frightening how quickly he'd become blank.  It scared me a little; he really looked as if he wasn't there anymore, as if he'd gone into a trance or a kind of quiet madness.

He shot me one last look though, a silent plea flashing in his eyes, and then turned to shuffle towards his keeper.

Jonas sent me a quick look, his mouth tight.  He looked like he wanted to scold me for not sending Gareth back to him, but then decided against it because I was the fragile one.  He put a hand on Gareth's arm, and led him from the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Gareth's shoulders were bowed, and his walk was a slow shuffle.  I watched them go with a tightness clenching inside my chest.  Did he really think he was in danger here?  And that Silus was, elsewhere?

Although I felt singularly unequal to the task, I knew it was now my mission to find out.

Oh dear.  I'd promised him I wouldn't tell anyone.  But that didn't mean Wes, did it?  Surely not.  I would need Wes's help for this, I was sure of it.

I was just going to have to tell him, and ask him not to tell anyone else.  I couldn't do it alone.  Even if I managed to convince Louie to ask his friend in the ministry about Silus's assignment, there was no way I could do anything the least bit physically demanding to help Silus, Gareth, or anyone else. 

And if there was trouble brewing, I needed Wes to be prepared.  If nothing else, he could surely overpower Jonas, although I hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Were we in danger here again?  He would be very angry about that, if it was true.  But he'd be even more upset if I tried to keep something from him, something where I both needed and wanted his help, over a silly promise.

I may have felt a twinge of guilt, but I had already determined to break my promise.  Now I tried to go back to my book, but my mind raced, thinking of plans and fears, wondering how I would convince Louie to check into things for me, or if there was another way.

I needed to get back to Gareth soon, however.  He was clearly not going to get any stronger if he kept himself in a state of panic over his boyfriend.  Really, it had been cruel of them not to keep him up to date about Silus's whereabouts and goings-on.  They hadn't thought he'd understand, I suppose.  I couldn't exactly correct that impression without breaking his confidence and possibly putting us all (or at least him and Silus) in danger.

Oh dear.  What was I getting myself into again here? 

A minute ago I'd been enjoying the pleasing, slightly boring lassitude of a rainy day and a detail-oriented book.  Now I was once again falling into the mystery that always seemed to surround Skeffield Manor.  Bollocks!