Silver and Gold - 12. Chapter 12

In the morning Silver slid from his bed at the crack of dawn, leaving Feldspar to sleep in. When Feldspar shuffled out of the bedroom several hours later, he found Silver and Yago poring over an immense map of Paris and nursing enormous cups of coffee. He kissed Silver’s temple in greeting and nodded to Yago.

Silver looked like he’d hardly slept and his face was crumpled in bleary-eyed concentration and he and Yago murmured to each other. Feldspar glanced at the pristine kitchen. There was no sign of used dishes though he was sure they’d been up for hours already. “Did you eat yet?” he asked.

Yago shook his silky black hair from his eyes with a toss of his horns and looked up at the clock. “Breakfast time already?” he said as he rolled the kinks from his neck with a grimace.

“Not hungry,” Silver murmured, without looking up. Feldspar frowned. Silver had hardly eaten on the plane, and had only pecked at the snacks Yago had put out the night before.

“Do you mind if I help myself to the kitchen?”

Yago waved his hand in permission and went right back to discussing plans with Silver over the map. Feldspar found the ingredients for a decent omelette and set about prepping the mushrooms, shallots, and onions in familiar motions. It amazed him to think that just months ago cooking breakfast for Silver would have been terrifying. Now even the trickiest part of flipping the omelets onto each plate filled him with calm. The mundanity of cooking soothed him in a life turned upside down.

Yago devoured the omelette in three bites, hissing at the sting of the burning hot food in his haste. Silver glanced at the plate Feldspar had placed on the table next to him. Feldspar held his breath as he waited for his lover to reject the meal. He clenched his jaw shut against the urge to speak, to urge Silver to take just a few bites. Silver inhaled and took a second look at the plate. He sat up a bit straighter and held his hand out. “Fork?”

Feldspar breathed out a sigh of relief and handed the cutlery over. He took the seat on Silver’s other side, watching him out of the corner of his eye surreptitiously. After the first few hesitant bites Silver ate with more gusto, especially as Yago began to compliment the fluffy texture Feldspar had achieved. The comment gave Silver the opportunity to brag about Feldspar’s aptitude and dedication to cooking, and he did at length until Feldspar was aglow with pleasure and pride.

When all three had eaten their fill Yago and Silver resumed their conversation. As Feldspar took care of the dishes he listened with half an ear as they discussed the local fae folks’ funeral rites. Feldspar put the dishes aside to dry and joined them. Yago tapped the map, which Feldspar now saw was covered in notes and circled landmarks. Silver was referring to what appeared to be printed messages from Brody’s friends.

“I hope we feel him today,” Silver said, his voice catching.

“We will. Brody was full of life. We’ll feel him.”

“You got Arnau’s place on there?” Silver asked, glancing down at the note in his hands again.

“Right here. I know how much it meant to him.” Yago tapped a spot on the map.

“Cool. We should go there first. Me, Arnau, and Chop all had it on our lists as one of the strongest memories of Brody. If we’ll feel him anywhere, it’ll be there.” Silver traced the outline of his whisk tattoo as he spoke.

Feldspar leaned closer to look at the place on the map Yago had indicated. The post-it note next to it said “Tatooine.”

“It’s where we all got inked together,” Silver said in explanation. “It’s our friend Arnau’s tattoo shop.”

Feldspar reached over and ran his fingers over the familiar lines of Silver’s tattoos, the simple lines of his favorite whisk intertwined with intricate flowers and vines which bloomed into a cornucopia of food and drink spanning the length of his arm. It was beautiful and complex work, seamlessly blending disparate shape, color, style, and subject into a cohesive work of art. “You had all these done with Brody?”

“Nah, just the first one. The whisk. It was his idea one night when we were all partying. He made up all these feats in order to earn our first ink. You already know I got my whisk for making meringue the old fashioned way. Our friend Chop got a chef’s knife for prepping all the produce for Saturday night rush in half the time it should have taken. Pretty sure he got carpal tunnel from that one night alone.” He chuckled. “Yago got a grapevine for identifying all these different high-end wines based on a blind taste test. Liam got a bone. It took weeks for everyone to complete their feats to Brody’s satisfaction, and when we finally did he brought us all together and introduced us to Arnau. The rest, as they say, is history.”

Yago cracked a smile. “Didn’t Arnau let Brody take a turn with the tattoo gun that night?”

Silver let out a sound too choked to be laughter, but not sad enough to be anything else. “Yeah, for about five seconds. I don’t think he got past the start of the first line of that tattoo and Arnau was already taking the gun back from him. The tattoo he gave himself that night was pretty epic though.”

“Did he also have to complete a feat?” Feldspar asked.

“Tattooing himself was the feat.”

The faun jotted notes as Silver spoke, his spidery scrawl next to each landmark on the map notated what Feldspar guessed were memories of Brody from each of his friends.

Feldspar leaned over, trying to make out the writing. “What will you do with this?”

“His memorial. A wake of sorts,” Yago said.

“Technically it’s a walk, not a wake,” Silver said.

“Nice joke, dad.” Yago said with a hard eye roll and toss of his sleek, black horns. He leaned around Silver so he could speak directly to Feldspar. “My kind believes that when we pass, the spirit is scattered. Parts of it go on to the next life, and parts of it linger here. If you are in a place that meant a great deal to him, with objects that were personal in nature, you will be able to call his spirit back. We leave pieces of him at those places, to welcome his spirit to visit those memories as often as he wishes.”

Silver saw the confusion on Feldspar’s face and cut in. “Not literal pieces of him. Talismans. Things that were important to him, that are imbued with his spirit. I’m bringing this,” he said, holding up a well worn silver whisk. “Brody got it when he first started out in Paris, and he used this thing nearly every day. He even had a buddy weld the handle back together when it started to come apart. I'm going to leave it at Arnau's shop where I got my whisk tattoo with him.”

Yago held up a meticulously polished watch. “His favorite timepiece, keep in perfect working order and polished to a shine at all times. It was passed down from his grandfather. I’ll be keeping it at my wine bar.”

Feldspar examined the map, now understanding why some of Paris’ most famous landmarks were ignored entirely, while far-flung apartment buildings and small dive bars had dozens of post-it notes next to them. Silver and Yago must have spent the early morning hours organizing memories submitted by Brody’s friends so that they could walk the map of Brody’s life, plotting out which landmarks to visit and talismans to leave.

Yago surveyed their work and nodded to Silver. “I think it’s complete.”

Silver nodded. “Everyone’s meeting here in —“ he glanced at the clock and frowned. “— half an hour. Damn, that took longer than I thought it would. Guess I’d better get ready.”

Feldspar found himself watching Silver from the corner of his eye as they dressed. There was a sizable mirror on what had been Brody’s side of the bedroom and Silver was standing in front of it, adjusting his tie. He’d already combed back his eye-catching silver hair neatly as he always did, though he’d fussed with it longer than normal. Feldspar sidled closer, picking a piece of lint from his shoulder. Silver smiled tremulously at him in the mirror and Feldspar slid his arms around him from behind. Feldspar closed his eyes briefly, wanting to have a moment alone with Silver before the cares of the day took him.

“Today will be hard,” Feldspar whispered, resting his chin on Silver’s shoulder. Faeries lived a long time, and he was no stranger to losing friends. Silver nodded tightly, his lips pressed thin as if he could stop himself from crying by sheer will. “It will be hard, but good. If it’s not good, then you say the word and I will bring you home.” Silver gave him a reproving look in the mirror. “I’m serious, we can come back here whenever you are ready, even if it's twenty minutes after we leave the flat. I’ll cook and you’ll eat, and we’ll watch one of those awful programs you and Dani love so much. One way or another we will get through this day.”

Silver half-laughed, half-sobbed. “Real Housewives?”

Feldspar laughed. “Yes, that’s the one. Perhaps you can even turn me into a fan by the end of this trip. At the very least I may be able to contribute to your arguments with Dani about which character is most vile.”

“Doubt it. I won’t make you watch that garbage. I’d pick something better for your first time.”

“First time?”

“Yeah. You’re a TV virgin. I’m not going to let your first time be utter garbage like that.”

Feldspar laughed. “I’m glad you’re so concerned for my virtue and proper education.”

“Wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea about human culture.”

“Stars no,” Feldspar said with a small smile. He straightened Silver’s tie and gave him one last squeeze. “We’d better go downstairs, sweetheart. We don’t want to to keep everyone waiting.”

******

Brody’s friends had gathered in front of the apartment building, their breath white in the chill winter morning. Hugs were given and introductions made, before Yago took the lead and set off for their first destination.

Though Feldspar had heard tales of how different Europe was from his own homeland, he still found himself gawking at the sheer variety of life on the streets of Paris. Magical creatures — fauns, unicorns and the like — had been eradicated from North America’s shores eons ago. Faeries, who could often pass for human, had been the last hold-outs of the genocide wrought by humans there. The wars had started long, long before Feldspar had been made, and by the time he’d turned faery, the fae eradication was as inevitable as breathing.

The only reason any faeries remained at all was that they had all gone into hiding. The faeries of the Wood hardly ever left their safe haven. The only other faeries Feldspar knew, those in the Northern Expanse, lived among humans but responded to threats of exposure swiftly and brutally. Mal had alluded to smaller bands of faeries living in other hideaways across the continent, always secreted away from the humans. Feldspar had had few opportunities to meet faeries from other parts of the country, let alone foreign faeries and other types of fae creatures.

Halfway down the block Feldspar almost walked into a parked car when he caught sight of a siren humming to herself as she walked in the opposite direction. Silver snickered at him and tugged him along. Feldspar opened his mouth to protest that it wasn’t the woman’s allure that left him dumbfounded, but rather the novelty of seeing fae creatures out in the open. Before he could say anything Silver squeezed his hand and smiled at him. He knew the feelings of disbelief and wonder Feldspar was experiencing. He had felt them all his own first time visiting Paris. Feldspar just shook his head in amazement. He knew it was a day for mourning, but he couldn't help the thrill of exhilaration that sang in his blood. His kind were safe here. Utterly, completely, safe and free.

Feldspar wondered if it would ever be this way for his kind in America. He’d only paid passing attention to Mal and Dani’s hushed discussions about how to reach such a future. Dani, he suspected, was pushing Mal to open up the Wood to the human government, expecting that it would lead to a better future for both their peoples. She had never seen the battles Feldspar was born out of. She had no way of understanding the terror of that time, the horrors and defeat that had driven Mal, Gneiss and Feldspar to lead their people into the seclusion of the Wood.

Looking around at the sheer variety of creatures that surrounded him, Feldspar was starting to understand why Mal might listen to Dani. In Europe the fae were outnumbered by humans by a wide margin, yet they were left to go about their lives in peace, completely unremarkable to the humans. He hoped that whatever was happening with the European faeries’ visit to the Wood, it was moving them toward this reality and a future where they no longer lived in fear of discovery. A future where faeries like Silver and people like Dani wouldn’t have to choose one world over the other.

The tattoo shop was nestled between an old-fashioned candy shop and a stationery store with three-figure fountain pens on display. Feldspar gathered the neighborhood was both charming and insufferable to Silver. He stood outside for several minutes watching the candy maker pour molten candy out onto an enormous marble slab in the window, which he then began to shape and cut into neat shapes. Silver leaned into his shoulder, commenting on the techniques the candy maker had for safely handling the hot candy while it was warm enough to shape. Feldspar listened and held Silver’s hand as he rambled on, even as the rest of the assembled mourners had gone into the tattoo shop next door.

“We should probably go in,” Silver said, making no move to turn toward the tattoo shop.

“When you’re ready.”

The stood for a few more minutes as the candy maker set the finished candies to one side to cool. Behind him, red and white taffy spun through a machine, the arms pulling the stretchy candy in mesmerizing loops. The riot of colors and cloyingly sweet aroma of the shop were jarring in the face of why they were there. When the candy maker noticed them and nodded in greeting, Silver drew back into himself and tugged Feldspar toward the tattoo shop.

A wall of warmth greeted them as they walked into Arnau’s shop, quickly followed by a chorus of voices cheering Silver’s name in greeting. Feldspar had anticipated a somber gathering, but the atmosphere inside was cozy and festive. Yago had taken over the front counter and was pouring sparkling water and tea while the assembled mourners mingled in the shop.

“Silver, it is too long since we have been seeing you,” a human said, slapping palms with him.

“Fel, this is Arnau. He owns the shop and did our tattoos.” Feldspar shook his hand while complimenting the space. The building looked to be over a hundred years old and the shop was a perfect blend of retained antique charm and modern simplicity. The floors were original hardwood that spoke to Feldspar of primordial woods, full of life and mysteries to be explored. Arnau had decorated the shop’s exposed brick walls with artistic framed photographs of tattoos from different cultures. Intermixed with the tattoo photos were scenes of space and what Feldspar took to be ships for navigating between planets.

“Your ink, it is still looking good, yes?” Arnau said, holding his hands out expectantly. Silver obliged him by shedding his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves. Arnau examined his work, commenting continuously on the lines and colors they’d chosen, and how Silver might embellish what he already had. Feldspar found himself drawn in by the man’s passion, so reminiscent of Silver when he got to talking about food.

When Arnau asked Feldspar if he’d ever considered getting a tattoo he found himself looking instinctively to Silver as he replied. “I don’t know, we have no tattooist where I come from. Silver says I have to earn my first tattoo.”

“This is nonsense,” Arnau cried. “Silver, how are you doing this to him? Tattoos are not needing to be earned.” He mock scowled at Silver, who held his hands up in surrender.

“It’s tradition!”

Arnau grunted and shook his head. “Fel, there is no need for you to be listening to Silver and those idiots. You come to me and I will be making you a beautiful tattoo, yes?”

Feldspar smiled uncertainly and glanced at Silver. “I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it before meeting Silver.” He blushed faintly, feeling suddenly like he was on the verge of admitting too much. “I don’t know anything about tattoos. If I didn’t have a guide, whatever I chose probably wouldn’t turn out.”

Arnau chuckled and looked between them with a knowing but friendly look. “What things you have been telling him, Silver. You and Brody always were making ridiculous ideas.” He turned to Feldspar and leaned in conspiratorially. “This is my shop, the best Paris is having. And I am saying tattoos are art, and art is for everyone. This is the way, no?”

Feldspar smiled. “Just the same, I’d rather get my first tattoo with Silver, so if he says I have to earn it, I’ll earn it. Even if my arm falls off attempting to make meringues.”

A bark of laughter nearby made all three turn. A man dressed in in a white chef’s coat and pageboy cap stepped into their circle. “Silver, have you been torturing this poor faery with Brody’s test of might? I am uncertain Brody himself could have made meringues entirely by hand.”

Silver smiled and clapped the newcomer on the shoulder. “Hey, Liam. As a matter of fact, I have done it myself, so I know it is absolutely possible.”

“I’ve seen him do it, multiple times,” Feldspar chimed in. “I’ve eaten so much of Silver’s meringue that I can honestly say I don’t ever want to see it again.”

Arnau and the newcomer exchanged a glance their eyes lit up in obvious mirth. “My, my, how polite conversation has changed of late,” Liam said dryly. Arnau chortled and Silver rolled his eyes.

Feldspar considered his response, feeling very much like Silver’s friends were assessing him. “Do not misunderstand me, Silver’s meringue is delicious, the best I’ve had. You should be so lucky to have a taste,” Feldspar grinned as Arnau’s chuckles turned into full-blown laughter. Liam’s lips twitched and he lifted an eyebrow as if to urge Feldspar on.

“Shut up boys,” Silver said without venom.

“What?” Feldspar cried in mock affront. “I was simply complimenting you, sweetheart.” Liam’s lips curled up in the barest hint of a smile under his handlebar mustache.

Silver shook his head, blushing. “Very mature, idiots. Especially you, Liam. You’d think someone your age would have grown up by now.”

Liam’s mustache twitched. “What can I say, you children keep me young at heart.”

Feldspar’s laughter trailed off. He looked more closely at Liam, who at first glance appeared to be an ordinary human in his thirties. There was something terribly old behind his eyes. It reminded him uncomfortably of how Mal looked when he was full of the magic and presence of the spirit of the Wood: old and disturbing and powerful.

Liam locked eyes with him and the rest of the room melted eerily away as the solemn man filled his vision. Liam opened his mouth deliberately and licked one of his teeth, opening a chasm of dread in Feldspar’s belly. He stared, transfixed, at Liam’s canines. They were long and wickedly sharp. Not teeth, fangs. Feldspar’s breath caught as his instincts and his mind warred with each other. This was no human. This was also Silver’s friend. He was a terrifying threat, someone he didn’t want anywhere near him and Silver. He was a part of Silver’s life outside of the Wood, holding a piece of who his lover was, someone he wanted to get to know. Feldspar let his breath out slowly, willing his warring thoughts to settle. Liam blinked and snapped his mouth shut, and Feldspar felt his entire body release.

The moment had spanned only half a heartbeat, but he felt shaky as he assessed the creature he’d mistaken for human. That was a vampire. He leaned closer to Silver and grabbed his hand. He knew his own was clammy but Silver was just going to have to bear it. If he was going to continue introducing Feldspar to new friends without a quick “by the way, this one’s a vampire/werewolf/literal demon,” he was going to have to accept a certain level of silent panicking. Silver glanced at him and his brow knit together in concern. He smiled and squeezed Feldspar’s hand reassuringly, then shot a stern frown at Liam. Liam shrugged a shoulder in a gesture that was more bored than apologetic.

Feldspar took in a steadying breath. He refused to be afraid. Despite what Liam was, he was still one of Silver’s friends. “So Liam, how did you know Brody?” Feldspar said, relieved that his voice came out steady and strong.

“My butcher shop is the best in all of Paris, if not Europe,” he said, matter of fact. “It was where he shopped for himself, especially when he was looking to impress someone.”

Silver smiled. “Did you know he bought steaks from you the first night I started sharing his flat? He made a whole thing of it, with candles and wine. I was freaking out, thinking that this dude who I’d always seen as a friend — a super straight friend — had other ideas of what living together was going to be like. He kept dropping all these hints all night about ‘new chapters’ and stuff like that. Finally when it was time for bed he brought me back to the bedroom and all I saw was this tiny room with pretty much nothing but a bed. I must have looked completely freaked out because he finally broke and started laughing about how he’d got me.” Silver let out a shaky breath. “I miss that idiot.”

Liam lifted an eyebrow and his lips twitched, which seemed to be as close as he ever got to actually smiling. “He was as bothersome as a fly at high tea, yet I cannot help but agree. Now that he is gone I find I miss him buzzing about my shop.” His voice, naturally quiet and low, became almost a whisper. “He seldom came to my shop knowing what he required. He was forever coming in with a long and convoluting tale, which he would lay before me and ask me to provide the best cut to suit the occasion. It was absurd. He insisted that I pair meat selections with the mood of the story, not simply the etiquette demanded by the occasion.” He turned his large, hypnotic eyes on Silver. “I do believe he came to my shop that day, now that you mention it. He was prattling on about a particular talented, sheltered faery who had a natural talent for cooking,” he tipped his head to Silver and his eyes softened. “He was quite pleased to have you moving in part-time. He babbled at length of this faery from the new world, never mind that I told him there were no living faeries in America. Nothing I said could dim his enthusiasm. He sounded half in love with you. Accordingly I sent him off with a pair of perfectly marbled steaks and a wine recommendation. I had hoped the meal might lead him to a romantic liaison, thereby leaving him less time to loiter about my shop telling extravagant tales and haranguing me to gallivant about town with him.”

“Haranguing you? How many times am I carrying you out of the clubs each week?” Arnau cried, poking Liam in the side.

“I did not say his haranguing was unsuccessful. He could be quite insistent and I must admit I do see the merits of socializing on occasion.”

“He was that,” Silver said. “He brought us all together, didn’t he, no matter how much we resisted in the beginning.” He pulled the whisk from his pocket and smiled fondly at it. “We love you, buddy, and we’re all going to miss you.”

A gust of warm air blew through the shop, despite the fact that all the windows and doors were shut. Goosebumps rose on Feldspar’s arms. Silver gasped and leapt sideways into Feldspar. Feldspar wrapped an arm around him instinctively as the warm wind enveloped them. “Wow,” Silver breathed. Yago caught Silver’s eye from across the shop and grinned, his eyes shining with tears. “He’s here,” he mouthed. He gestured at Silver as if to urge him on.

“Hey Brody,” Silver whispered. He drew in a shaky breath and wiped his eyes with the palms of his hands. “Thanks for coming.” The wind swirled through the shop in response and the space fell reverently silent as all the mourners turned to Silver. Tears ran down his face and he drew in several shaky breaths before he could continue. He held up the whisk. “I, um, brought you something. I hope you remember it. You’ve gotta. You used this thing way beyond its breaking point and you still loved it more than any of the other whisks at our flat.” He placed it gently on an empty floating shelf near the entrance of the shop. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you, I guess. Thanks for teaching me… everything? You taught me so much about how to live in this world, how to make the most of every single day. I hope you keep doing that, wherever you go next.” Feldspar heard a few murmurs of agreement and well wishes directed toward Brody’s spirit. Silver drew himself up straighter. “And one more thing. I’m also so fucking mad at you. I know you didn’t mean to, but shit man. It was so stupid to die that way. I’ll get over it, but you should still be here, and I wish you were. I’m going to miss you, bud. We all will. So come back sometimes and visit us, if you want.” He paused and laughed a little to himself though his tears. “Just go easy on us. I’m not sure we can handle ghost pranks,” Silver said, earning a chuckle from the assembled mourners.

He fell silent and the wind caressed them one last time, eddying around each of Brody’s friends gently. Feldspar could almost hear words carried on the breeze. He strained to listen, and though no distinct words materialized when he glanced at Silver he could see that he was listening intently too. Silver wiped his eyes, laughed, and shook his head in wonder. And just like that, the warm wind disappeared. taking a piece of Silver's grief with it.