Pale Kings

Chapter 3 - MIDNIGHT RIPPLES

Rowena stared at her reflection on the ladies room mirror. She saw bright blue eyes looking back at her, the same eyes she had seen in her father’s face, so many years ago. She could never deny where she’d come from, but with all the years gone by, and her father long given up to the ground, she was more than ready to forget about it.

Once, she’d thought to teach Thomas all about letting go of the past, but he had never taken to it. Thomas’s life was all about the long lost past, while Rowena was always pushing, greedily and with few qualms, for the next best future night.

This night, however, had turned out to be one of those nights she just couldn’t wait to be rid of. Thomas was waiting for her out in the car, with no intention whatsoever of owning up to what had happened. He’d let the Silver King walk out, without a word, without so much as a glance in his direction. Soon, Thomas would need his brother’s help, and if Rowena didn’t endeavor to bridge the gap between Thomas and Mr. Lee, they wouldn’t do the work for themselves.

She didn’t have the time to just stand there and stare at the alien reflection before her. She was late for a meeting
A river breeze blew through an open window in the back of the sterile restroom. It carried with it odd whisperings which bounced over the silver-gray tiles, and were magnified enough to be heard even by Rowena’s common ears. Two male voices, that was as much as Rowena could discern, even when she stood on tiptoes by the window. The men were too far away for her to make out any words. One of the speakers had a deep voice, like the resounding song of a drum, while the other spoke with the sibilant uttering of a snake. When this last stranger filled his side of the conversation, barely a sound could be heard over the gentle lapping of the river at the shore.

She wondered why anyone would be having a conversation at this hour on the grounds of the Tower, but as she could do nothing to figure out the men’s identities from here, she walked out of the restroom, leaving her curiosity behind. This was not for her.

As she exited the tower, Harry dismounted the dark SUV to help her in. She could see distress sketched over his freckled face, and immediately dreaded having to give Thomas the talk about upsetting the employees once again. Harry opened the rear car door a crack, before clearing his throat and announcing: “Ms. Rowena, I’m afraid we have a problem.”

And those were her favorite words; Rowena, afraid and problem. Thomas had been right, this night was damned.

“Is he gone?” she asked, trying not to sound too disappointed. Harry nodded. His mouth opened and closed, working hard to form words that would never come. Rowena waved her hand dismissively.

“It’s not your fault, Harry. You’re the driver, not his babysitter,” she said, and all the while a little voice whispered in her brain ‘you’re the babysitter, you’re the babysitter.’ The little voice sounded suspiciously like Thomas.

“Let us forget about him, Harry. We have more important things to worry about.” She couldn’t afford to waste any more time than she already had. She was late for a meeting. 

                *

Thomas sat on a dusty fire escape, on the side of an ancient building in Southwork. To be fair, all buildings in Southwork were ancient, built before the coming of the Strangers. But this building was the oldest amongst the old. The stones of its facade were worn and crumbling, age withering the splendor of its great size into crumbs. And yet, the old boy stood stalwart, weathering age and storm, due in most part to the unseemly powers of its occupants.

Rowena would be appalled to see what he was doing to his expensive dark suit. He relished that thought, and settled in, rubbing his buttocks against the dusty grill with warmth and generosity.

When young Devin stepped out of the window behind him and onto the fire escape, he found Thomas with an easy and comfortable grin on his lips.
“Good evening, Devin.” Thomas continued to smile.

“Good evening, sir,” Devin replied. He lacked the enthusiasm so evident on Thomas’s face. It was more than obvious that the young man was neck deep in some sort of trouble. Turmoil had darkened his chocolate brown eyes to onyx in the darkness.

Thomas’s eyes softened at the sight of Devin’s pain. He’d had doubts about the boy and his motivations. He’d believed that, in the end, Devin wouldn’t go through with it. But he had. And now the consequences were here, splattered like blood on the walls.

“I did warn you.” Thomas cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to sound like a pompous ass, but perhaps I am one and there’s nothing to be done.”

“I knew I’d feel this way, after it was done.” Devin’s confession came with slow footsteps, as he played with two copper gears over the iron grill. “It’s not that I wouldn’t listen to you, sir. It’s that I couldn’t go on living with what he’d done.”

Silence sat as third companion between them. The night slipped by them like shadows over the cobbled streets. Not a soul stirred. Their breaths misted out in hushed whispers. Out of clumps of clouds darkened with rain not yet arrived, there flew a crow with glossy feathers threaded with white, and perched on the railing above their heads. It spoke not a word.

Thomas sighed, a sound both of sorrow and exasperation.

“I’m wanted elsewhere, Devin.” He turned and grinned at the boy once again. He seemed somehow smaller to Thomas at that moment. Younger than he’d once thought him to be, but perhaps less innocent.

“Can you live with what you’ve done, Devin?” Thomas asked.

“Yes. Pain or no pain, I can live with it.” Devin looked up to find the Raven King had gone.

  
                                *

Thomas stepped past his own door as the first gray lights of dawn could be glimpsed over the city. These ghostly rays lit his way past the stillness of the hall. He stopped short as a gust of wind carried muffled voices to his ears. Rowena came from the living room into the hallway, and their eyes met. Hers were cold, his were fearful.

“Can I run?” he mouthed. She shook her head.

“Too late,” she mouthed back. “Welcome home, your grace,” she said cheerfully.

“You’re dead to me,” he replied.

“You have a guest, sir.” The smile never faltered over her red lips. She still wore her midnight dress. She was one of the loveliest creatures he’d ever seen and he would kill her as soon as look at her.

Thomas’s walk down the hall was filled with trepidation and contempt. He peeked over the door to the living room.

His brother sat on his favorite couch.

The assistant would have to die; there was no doubt in his mind. She smiled and batted her lashes at him.

“Rowena, be a dear and make us a cup of tea, won’t you?” Thomas ushered her out of living room. “Lapsang Souchong, there’s a girl.” Rowena went into the kitchen with a backward glance and a raised eyebrow. Thomas turned back to the intruder on his favorite couch.

“What in the name of unholy night are you doing here, Lee?” Thomas spat out, punctuating each word with a sharp breath.

“Relax, brother. I’m just here to talk.”