Saving Marigold: Lick of Fire Read online

  Little by little, other men joined him and Carlos, until there were seven of them, all freed from the same jail, plus their ‘hosts,’ a middle-aged gay couple. In addition to teaching them about Sanctuary and its rules, Seb and Steve maintained the boarding house, cleaned the common areas, and cooked breakfast and lunch for all of them. Dinner was the responsibility of a different boarder every day.

  Chris didn’t mind; he’d cooked for himself for years, and he wasn’t half bad at it. Carlos however had never cooked in his life, and had to be helped when it was his turn. A couple of the other men complained about the arrangement, but when Seb, a bear shifter who was close to seven foot tall in his human form, asked them in his most pleasant voice if they needed a ride out of Sanctuary since they obviously didn’t care to participate in communal life, they fell in line.

  And communal life seemed indeed to be the idea here. When Steve took Chris and Carlos to ‘shop’ for clothes and shoes the first day, there was no exchange of money. The cashiers in the clothes and shoe stores didn’t even ask for their names to put the items on a tab. At first, Chris thought he’d be limited in what he could choose, but when Steve insisted that he could take more than one pair of shoes if he wanted, he got both a pair of running shoes and a pair of comfortable ‘work appropriate’ shoes.

  The selection of clothes was also pretty good, some of them second-hand but with a lot of new items, too. Steve explained that when someone didn’t want one of their clothing items anymore because it didn’t fit right or they didn’t care for it any longer, the item was brought to a sewing atelier nearby. There, seamstresses cleaned the clothes thoroughly and repaired any wear and tear before putting them back in circulation; they also made from scratch new clothes of all sorts in different styles and sizes.

  Chris came back to the boarding house with two pairs of jeans, some slacks, shorts, various shirts and tee-shirts, underwear and socks, and a strangely guilty feeling about having taken all these things from a store without paying for them.

  “You’ll get used to it,” Steve said with a laugh. “And you will pay for it eventually, just not with cash. You’ll work for Sanctuary, do something that needs doing for the good of everyone, like Seb and I do. They’ll tell you about it when you’re formally welcomed in. There’s a reception once a month for all the new arrivals. The next one is next week.”

  And indeed, the following Saturday they were directed to walk to the central square, a good-sized park in the middle of the town. A podium had been erected in the center of the square near a stone statue depicting a large eagle in flight. Tiki torches were planted around the area, with tables of food and drink.

  Looking around, Chris could see the people that had been freed from the jail alongside him, but also others. Not all of them were new to Sanctuary, he realized, as he recognized some of the people he’d seen around while doing his morning run, as well as some members of the squad. He also saw his brother, with Violet on his arm. He went to them with a wide smile.

  “I see you caught him,” he said to Violet, offering her his hand to shake.

  She gave him a quick hug instead, laughing softly.

  “I did, yes. It took a bit of work, but I can be pretty stubborn when I need to.”

  “When you need to?” Idris interjected with a huff. “When are you ever not stubborn?”

  But the smile he couldn’t quite hide made the words teasing rather than a rebuke. Chris shook his hand, glad to see his brother happy, and yet a little miffed.

  “How long have you been here? Why didn’t you come and find me?”

  “Just a couple of days,” Idris said. “And we’ve been… busy.”

  His waggling eyebrows and Violet’s delicate blush made it clear exactly how they’d kept themselves occupied. Chris chuckled and looked around.

  “As good an excuse as any, I suppose,” he said. “Do you guys want to get something to eat?”

  The three of them approached one of the buffet tables, where a variety of cold foods was displayed on trays of ice in deference to the weather, still warm in this early evening. They loaded up glass plates and picked up metal utensils and a cloth napkin each.

  “Fancy,” Chris commented. “I’ve never been to a party like this where it wasn’t all paper and plastic.”

  “Sanctuary rule,” Violet explained. “We let as few single-use items come into Sanctuary as possible. And what does come in has to be easily recyclable in one of our centers.”

  Chris nodded thoughtfully, enjoying his deviled eggs even as he considered her words. Seb and Steve had mentioned that very little ended up thrown away in Sanctuary, but he hadn’t thought of all the implications.

  “What about the food?” he asked, indicating his plate and the various vegetables, eggs and bread on it. “Does that come in from outside or is it local?”

  “Mostly local,” Violet said. “We’ve got fields, orchards, animal farms, hydroponic farms, greenhouses, fish ponds. You name it, we probably grow it, or are trying to grow it. Some things are just more easy to buy from outside than to grow, like exotic fruit or coffee beans for example, but if the gates closed tomorrow and no food came in anymore, we’d be fine indefinitely.”

  “Fascinating,” Chris murmured, and considered the food with a different perspective.

  At the back of his mind, old habits resurfaced and he started putting together a lesson plan on how to explain sustainability to his students. It was always bittersweet to remind himself that he didn’t have students to teach to anymore.

  “The way you’re saying ‘we,’” he said to Violet, “I’m guessing you’ve lived here for a while.”

  She nodded. “I was born here.”

  Idris, who’d drifted for a moment toward the ‘warm food’ table, came back in time to hear her answer and lightly bumped his shoulder against hers.

  “Did she tell you she’s practically royalty in Sanctuary?” he said, tongue in cheek.

  Even as Chris raised an interested eyebrow, Violet rolled her eyes.

  “There is no royalty in Sanctuary.”

  “Well, what do you call your mother, then, if she’s not the queen? President? Prime Minister? Supreme Leader?”

  “Mostly, she calls me ‘Mom,’” Lily Littlewings said dryly as she approached them, a younger woman who looked a lot like Violet at her side. “And other people in Sanctuary call me Lily, as I’ve told you repeatedly.”

  Idris gave her his best shit-eating grin. “That you did, Ma’am.”

  She chuckled softly, as did the woman at her side.

  “Chris here is Idris’ brother,” Violet said, talking to the two women before addressing Chris. “I’m sure you’ve met my mother already, Lily Littlewings, and this is my sister Rose.”

  With his hands full, Chris contented himself with nodding a greeting at both of them.

  “I didn’t realize you two were brothers,” Lily Littlewings said with some surprise, then shrugged. “Of course I hadn’t met Idris yet when I first met you, Chris. How are you finding life in Sanctuary so far?”

  “Almost too good to be true,” he admitted with a half-smile. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

  “A common reaction,” she said with a nod. “But I assure you, there’s no trick, no bait and switch. We’re upfront in what we do and what we ask of the people who live here, and anyone is free to leave when they want.”

  “Do you two have family outside of Sanctuary?” Rose asked, her eyes going from Idris to Chris. “You can bring them here, if you want.”

  “Our parents live out west,” Chris said when Idris didn’t look like he would answer. “But I’m not sure they’d want to leave their house and their friends.”

  “They’re not paras, right?” Violet said.

  Idris nodded. “Correct. They did their best at raising two kids with powers, and they’ll probably want to visit us at some point, but I don’t think they’d be comfortable around that many paras.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Lily Li
ttlewings said. “I’m sure if they had an incentive, like being close to their grandkids…”

  Both Violet and Rose groaned together; it looked like the topic of grandchildren might be one their mother raised regularly. Idris, for a brief moment, looked like he’d been struck by lightning, and Chris had to refrain himself from teasing him.

  “Don’t you have a speech to make?” Violet said, shooing her mother away. “Stop pestering us already and go do your job.”

  Lily Littlewings, clad in a royal purple evening gown, with a golden feather brooch pinned to her chest and matching earrings and necklace, turned on her high heels and started walking regally toward the podium… but not before she’d stuck her tongue out at her daughters like a naughty child.

  Chuckling, Chris excused himself to go put his empty plate and fork in a waiting washing tray, picking up a glass of something bubbly on his way back to stand with his brother and the two sisters. Lily Littlewings now stood near the podium, while one of her twin assistants was tapping the microphone with a finger.

  “Good evening,” he said. “Good evening everyone. Thank you for being here tonight at the Welcoming Feast. You’ll hear from a couple of people in a few minutes about what you can expect from life in Sanctuary, but before that our queen—”

  Lily Littlewings hid her face behind her hand and shook her head, eliciting a spatter of laughs from the audience, including from her daughters. It looked mostly like people who’d been in Sanctuary for a while were laughing, while the newcomers like Chris seemed more uncertain this had been a joke.

  “—Lily Littlewings would like to say a few words to you. Lily, if you please.”

  He stepped aside and offered her his hand to help her climb the three steps up to the podium. She accepted his hand, although she said, quite audibly, “I knew there was a reason I liked your twin better.”

  More laughter followed, before silence fell as they all listened to her.

  “First, let me make something clear. The next person to call me ‘queen’ will get my royal foot to their rear end.”

  This time, everyone laughed. She waited until they’d quieted again before continuing.

  “Now. Welcome. I’ve said it to each of you as you arrived in Sanctuary, but let me say it again, let me make it perfectly clear to you that you are welcome here. Welcome to be who you truly are, without hiding your powers or fearing they might land you back in a cell. Welcome to join us and stay as long as you want, for the rest of your life if you wish. Or welcome to enjoy our hospitality only long enough to recover from your ordeal before going back to the outside world if that’s what you want. If that is your decision, we’ll provide you with a new identity to use when you leave our walls, and help you in any measure we can. If on the other hand you decide to stay, you’ll be provided with everything you need. All we ask if that you contribute to life in Sanctuary in whatever way you are able to. More speakers tonight will give you examples of what you may do by telling you how they are contributing, and you’ll have time to think about it. For now, please enjoy the food and company, and allow me to say it one last time: welcome to Sanctuary.”

  Chris clapped along with everyone else, although it was a little awkward while holding a glass. Violet and Idris excused themselves for another trip to the buffet table, leaving Chris in Rose’s company.

  “Are you a pyromancer like your brother?” she asked without preamble.

  Chris was briefly taken aback by a question he’d truthfully never had to answer before. Their nature as paras had always been a secret. And now, it was all out in the open. He’d need some time to get used to it.

  “No, I’m not. I’m some sort of telepath.” Keen to avoid her request for a demonstration, he asked, “What about you? Do you share powers with your sister?”

  She nodded. “Yup. We’re both phoenix shifters, like my dad. I always found it fascinating how some family members share powers, and others have powers that are completely different.”

  “It’s not something I ever gave much thought to,” Chris admitted. “I don’t think I ever knew more than a half dozen paras before coming here.” He grimaced as a bitter memory resurfaced. “Or before being thrown in a UIPP jail, I suppose.”

  She looked sympathetic.

  “I honestly can’t imagine what that’s like,” she said. “I was born and raised here. The outside world always seems odd to me.”

  He certainly could understand that.

  “Are you going to stay?” she asked in between sips from her bubbly drink. She looked genuinely interested in the answer, and not merely asking for the sake of conversation.

  “I’d like to,” he replied with a smile. “I was a teacher, on the outside. Social Studies, although I was a few credits shy of being certified to teach Language Arts as well. I’ve seen some kids around while I was out running, so I’m guessing you have a school? Would there be room for me there?”

  “Definitely. We’re well staffed for the lower grades, but we could use more teachers in the middle and high school. We don’t have a lot of kids, but paras that are qualified teachers are hard to come by. I’ll have the principal of the upper school get in touch with you, and you’ll be back in a classroom in no time.”

  She sounded happy at the prospect, and in truth so was he. He’d wanted to be a teacher for as long as he could recall, and he’d thought his career was over for good after he’d been outed as a para. To be able to teach here, surrounded by other people like him… Not only that, but teach kids who were paras themselves and wouldn’t have to hide what they were like he and his brother had needed to do when they were in school…

  “I can’t wait,” he said, and raised his glass.

  Even as Rose started to lift her glass to clink it against his, her mother, who’d been engaged in conversation just feet away, made it clear that she’d been listening to what they were saying.

  “Would you wait, though, if it was for a good reason?” she asked with a thin smile as she came to them.

  Chris raised questioning eyebrows at her.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Littlewings, I’m not sure what you mean.”

  She grimaced. “Oh gosh, call me Lily, everyone does. Or everyone should, at least. What I mean is, I have a project for you, if you are interested.”

  Rose excused herself, and Chris wondered if it was because she already knew about this ‘project,’ because she didn’t care to know, or because she wanted to give them some privacy. Whatever her reason, he couldn’t help but feel a little wary.

  “What kind of project?” he asked after taking a sip from his drink.

  “I think you might already know about it,” Lily said with a wry smile. “Our dragon shifter friend? The one who’s in a strange sort of coma?”

  The alcohol seemed to roil in Chris’ stomach, and he suddenly wished he’d had more to eat. He’d tried not to think about his conversation with Petro in the past few days, because this wasn’t a way in which he cared to use his powers, but deep down he’d suspected the subject would come back on the table sooner or later.

  He’d found a couple of excuses he’d intended to offer. But how could he say no to the woman in charge of Sanctuary? How could he refuse to even try when moments earlier she’d announced he was welcome to live here, all expenses paid, as long as he did his part and worked for the good of the community?

  “I can sense your reluctance,” she said when he failed to provide her with an answer right away. “What is it that troubles you?”

  He considered her as he took another sip from his drink to give himself a few seconds. He remembered the deep peace he’d felt when she’d taken his hand, back on the tarmac. Had that been real, or merely an effect of being freed at last? He wished he felt that peaceful right now, but didn’t dare ask to touch her hand. She’d called herself an empath; might she be able to feel the shame and guilt encroaching on his thoughts? Or should he just admit to them and be done with it?

  “My power,” he began, but hesitated about how to
continue. He started over. “I can go fairly deeply inside someone’s mind. Further than they might want me to go. I can ferret out secrets they’d never want anyone to know about. If I try as hard as I can, I don’t think there’s anything anyone could keep from me. And if I try that hard, I don’t think anyone could stop me from implanting thoughts into their mind, either.”

  When she continued to look at him with impassive eyes, he tried to make himself clearer still. “I’m talking about brainwashing. I’m talking about an invasion of someone’s most private thoughts. If that woman is truly as out of it as Petro said she is, there’s no way she could consent to me even taking a peek into her head. What right do I have to force my way in?”

  She nodded thoughtfully, and for a moment he believed she might drop it. Her next words, however, proved otherwise.

  “We had to sedate her at times in the beginning when she was agitated,” she said. “We’ve had to force feed her with a tube when she wouldn’t eat. An aide has to help her with toileting. She never consented to any of this. Never consented to having strangers take medical decisions for her, touch her in very intimate ways. Do you think we should stop and leave her to die of hunger in her own filth because she can’t tell us she wants our help?”

  “No, of course not. But it’s different. You’re helping her.”

  The barest hint of a smile touched her lips as she tilted her head to one side.

  “We are, yes. And what is it exactly you think I’m asking you to do if not help her?”

  Chris opened his mouth, and closed it again without uttering a word. Seen under this angle, then yes, it seemed like a good enough reason to at least try. And yet, his old reluctance refused to disappear quite so easily.

  “Do this much for me,” Lily said, sounding very serious. “Go see her. Meet her in person. Just brush against her mind. Surely you can do that. And then decide whether you want to help this poor child come back to us or not. Will you do it as a favor to me?”

  How could something sound like complete blackmail and yet at the same time feel so reasonable?