My Funny Valyntine: Book One - The Pull

Chapter Twelve - Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

i.

Latin and Valyntine sit at the island in his kitchen, drinking coffee. The conversation lapsed more than an hour before as noon drew close.

"So this is what you did every day?" Latin asks, refilling his cup for the third time. "You waited for it to take you?"

"Not exactly."

"Touché," he says, raising his cup to her.

"It usually picked the same two days for a few weeks at a time," Valyntine shrugs, the turtleneck bunching up around her ears. "Always during the week, never on the weekend, never two days in a row, always around noon, ends with the five-whistle. Not a difficult routine once I got used to it." She takes a drink of her coffee, adding, "But yes, to be safe, I'd go down to the front stoop of my building each day and wait a couple of hours, you know, just in case."

"I don't think I could have gotten used it. It would have put me out of my mind. Or, as they say in the West, driven me, 'off my nut.'"

"I spent a lot of time convinced I was screwy," Valyntine points her index finger at her head, near her temple, and moves it in a circle.

"What convinced you otherwise?"

"The rain. I knew I wasn't imagining the rain. Everyone in the coffee house talked about it. I read the headlines about the flooding down south, and the landslides up north, making life miserable for the miners and loggers. I feel stupid not making the connection to magic. Like a complete fool, I..." she trails off, peering out the window to the sky, seeing only a few sparse wisps.

"You thought you were causing the rain, didn't you?" Latin asks.

"How did you-?"

"Valyntine, it is my job to listen. It is my job to know. Of course, you blamed yourself." He dumps the last of his coffee into the sink.

"Since we're on the subject," she says, trying her best to change the subject, "it's after one o'clock. I don't see any clouds gathering from the north. Does that mean we're leaving?"

"We have to wait for nightfall."

"That long?" she blurts. "I mean, um, why do we have to have, you know, wait for nightfall?"

"It's harder to follow someone at night. We have to assume we're under observation at all times."

"I thought you said no one knows about this place."

"No, I said no one can access the lift. Not without one of the two keys." He holds up the one she watched him use last night, displaying it to her before putting it back in his pocket.

"How can you be sure someone won't steal your sister's copy?"

"A key to the lift must be given for it to work," Latin says. When confusion covers Valyntine's face, he adds, scrunching up his nose, "Another of those pesky weaver additions."

"What if she gave her key to-"

"Stella will never give away the key. She tried leaving it behind when she left. It took me a few months, and more planning than I care to admit, but I eventually got it back to her. I convinced her to keep it should she ever find herself in real trouble, and needed somewhere safe if circumstances turn dire."

"Okay," Valyntine says, nodding. "We wait for nightfall. Can you tell me where we're going or how long it will take to get there? Or does the voodoo apartment keep you from telling me?"

"Regrettably, it will take us quite some time to get there. We have to take the long way. The Saints live in C'est si Bon, near Daven Port."

"The Saints? The fuck are they?"