Feargus

  So, my plan not to spy on Adeline Blanchett wasn’t going so well right off the hop. When I checked in at the Peak that morning, there was a letter waiting for me from Alexander reminding me that he (on behalf of Faust) was expecting a personality and effectiveness analysis on Adeline within the week. So not only did I have to write a detailed report on her behaviour specifically, but I still had to keep an eye on the crew, which now, unfortunately, included one of the the most interesting people I’d ever seen.

  The cruelty of it all, mates.

  After a quick cookie with V, reading and burning the letter, I made for the city. I’d been up most of the night working on the papers for Della and Derek while Zacharias watched over my shoulder. He had a lot to say. Such as: “That doesn’t look quite right,” and, “Take your time, Feargus Finlay,” and, “You should have waited for the previous section to dry.” I see why V called him daddy, but I knew: poor chap was spiralling. I had to find something for him to do as soon as possible—something to make him feel productive and in control. But for now, I had other business.

  It was still early in the day, so I went straight to the Tragers’ townhouse instead of the Jaskar to find Della and Derek, and I knocked three times with the bronze heart.

  Della answered the door.

  She smiled as she does, scooping me inside as she does. “What a nice surprise.”

  “It’s good seeing you, too, Dells—is Derek home?”

  Derek usually wandered around the house shirtless, but I could tell he’d put one on for my benefit that day. He tugged the hem and adjusted his collar as he made his way around the corner, meeting his wife with a quick kiss. Della looked to me expectantly, Derek looked hopeful.

  “I can’t stay long,” I said. “But I brought you these.”

  I dug out the identity documents from my bag, which I’d wrinkled and weathered some for authenticity. “I wasn’t sure your birthdays, or your exact ages before you—” I gave Della the papers, waiting while they looked them over.

  “Jack,” Della said, “how did you even know?”

  Derek put an arm around her waist.

  “Alexander might have mentioned something.” Seemed Derek hadn’t told Della my real name, again, for my benefit. I didn’t want him to have to keep things from his wife. Secrets will eat you up—I know it. “And my name’s actually Feargus.”

  Della tilted her head, looking to Derek who then just nodded.

  “Well, whatever your name is, love—we can’t thank you enough.” All smiles, Della clutched the papers as if they might vanish if she didn’t. Derek just watched me, quietly.

  Della was eager to bring the paperwork over to the orphanage, so she left in a tizzy and I was left standing, alone, in the atrium with Derek.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “You really are a mystery,” he said.

  “Aye, I wanted to thank you both. When I met you I was—look, I’m still not totally in a great place. But for a second, with you and Dells, I had—it was nice.”

  Derek didn’t say anything, but he stepped forward and put his hand on my back, and pulled me in for a hug. That was it—just a hug, and that was more than enough.

  I left shortly afterward.

  I returned home for a serious conversation with my roommate.

  “Aye, but I really don’t see the point,” I said.

  “You make the bed in the morning, Feargus Finlay, so it’s ready for you when it’s time to turn in.”

  “What if I like getting into a messy bed?”

  “Who likes getting into a messy bed?”

  “If it matters so much to you, why don’t you make the bed?”

  “Five notes per day, and I will make the bed.”

  “I’ll do you one better, Strawberry Rhubarb Pie. Fifty notes per day, and I get you a real job.”

  I sat on the unmade bed, and Zacharias turned his chair around to face me. Had to figure a broke, high maintenance man might be interested in raising the stakes.

  “Go on, I’m listening.”

  After getting comfortable, I held my hands up, bracing at least one of us for impact. “I need you to spy on my friends for me.”

  “No—for one, that’s absurd. For two, I’m not ready to reintegrate.”

  I rubbed my beard. “Is it so absurd, though? I’m not asking you to reintegrate or even participate. In fact, the idea is not to interfere at all. Observe, and then report back to me. Do it for science, mate.”

  “Can you not spy on your own friends, Feargus Finlay?”

  “I’ve already been crossing lines. I’ve… seen things. And now there’s this lass.”

  “A lass?”

  “Aye, and spying on her feels wrong.”

  There was a pause. “More wrong than spying on your sister?”

  “Aye, because my sister recently confirmed what I should have already known: that wherever she is, I am, and wherever I am, she is—it’s not spying if we’re always together anyhow.”

  “Well, that’s a stretch.”

  “You’ll see. I’ll tell her everything one day. She won’t care.”

  Zacharias leaned forward on his knees. “And what about the others?”

  “Michael understands duty. Strauss understands everything as long as it makes sense. See, I finally realized I have to trust my mates, and trust that they trust me. With this in mind, being their shadow was starting to feel less weird, and then—”

  “The lass.” The Law raised his eyebrows.

  “Aye. She doesn’t know me, I don’t know her. And normally, I’d have had fewer issues with spying on strangers than I would spying on my friends, but this one is distracting.”

  “Are you saying you find her sexually attractive?”

  “No—I mean, aye—she’s cute. But, have you ever known anyone who taps their spoon against their mug three times before taking a sip?”

  Zacharias shook his head.

  “Aye, me neither. So, that’s why I need you to spy on my friends.”

  So, after an hour’s worth of back and forth, some questions, and a debriefing in terms of what to expect from RAAM, my new employee stepped outside the cabin, invisible, but headed out alone into the world for the first time in over four hundred years.

  I waved to him from the door, and there I was, by myself again: a free agent with way too much knowledge and a food-related problem.

  What now?