The Warlock

15 | a song

Bina sings a song she made up as her manifestation enters my demesne. She's only found the lyrics for the chorus so far, which goes:

Reenie Reenie Reenie / Wants to be a Queenie / Reenie Reenie Reenie / In a teeny bikini / Trying to get steamy

Thusly she serenades me as she pads up the balustraded promenade to my lounge. "I have managed the stairs on two legs," she announces in triumph. "Hello, Reenie!"

"Did I not say we weren't doing that name?" I coax my flagstones into a telescoping whorl and fill it with fluid to display my view for my sister.

"I'm returning fire. If I'm Beany, you're Reenie." She flops down on my couch, glad to be free of her bipedalism. "I'm here to confront you. Why are you crying?"

"What?" I touch my face and my finger comes away damp. "Oh. What the hell."

"I don't have to call you Reenie. I'm sorry. I'm just fucking about."

"It's not that. It's—" I surmount a step aloft of my humanoid's emotional cocktail and peer into its admixture. "I think it's because Caspar just took an innocent life."

"The Degmar guy?" Bina lays her wolfy head on my lap. I absently scratch it. "That was Jordan."

"That's not how he sees it." My exhale has an unwelcome shake in it. "He feels himself disappearing. Metaphorically," I hasten to add, as a curious look crosses Bina's face.

"Just because he's killing people?" Bina's ear quirks. "But you're scooping them up and giving them all that room to run around. And they'd end up here anyway in a few decades."

"I know. I know that. But it's hurting him." I manifest a handkerchief from lacy epidermis. "Oh, Bina. I think I made a mistake."

"What? By picking Caspar? You love Caspar."

"No. I untethered my manifestation." I indicate my body. "And now I cry and such."

"Oooh." Bina licks her chops. "And you can't just tether it again?"

"I can. I should. I don't know." I wipe my eyes. "I don't want to. I'm not making any sense."

"Crying's okay. You can cry. I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to."

"Thank you, Bean." I scratch her muzzle. "Do me a favor, all right? If ever I make a decision and you think Irene's compromised, because of this whole—" I indicate my body. "Me situation. Tell me, all right?"

"I will, my love."

"And if I still don't listen to you, kill this body. Eat it or something. I give you permission ahead of time."

"Okay." She repositions her fuzzy body to facilitate my scratches. "It smells tasty. I wouldn't mind."

"Thank you, my dear."

I observe Caspar's calloused fingers work through his stolen uniform's buttons. It's tighter on him than it was on the dead man. With luck, nobody's looking as closely as I am. "What did you want to confront me about?" I ask.

"You keep scooping the guys Jordan kills," Bina says. "You don't need to, right? Not according to your agreement."

"What, do you want them? You can have them."

"Oh, no. No, it's no problem. I don't imagine Jordan cares overmuch and I know so much less about them." Bina crosses her paws. "I'm just curious."

"It makes Caspar happy."

Bina noses up against my palm and I dutifully start scratching her muzzle again. "Will that keep him kind, do you think?"

"I don't need him to be kind," I say.