Seven
Tav drove clear through town and stopped at a café Eli had never seen before. It was called The Sun. It was a grand name for an unassuming hovel, the sign hand-painted and faded with age.
“Best coffee in the city,” said Tav.
Eli said nothing, still exhilarated by the rush of wind on her face and the simmering panic of running away from her life. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe.
“Need help?” Tav offered a hand, but Eli, already feeling in their debt, swung herself off the bike gracefully. She made herself breathe again.
Tav raised an eyebrow appreciatively. Eli had to smother a smile. She spent so much time obsessing over what her body was made from that she often forgot how well it moved. She wasn’t used to being admired. It felt dangerous.
Eli liked danger.
“Thanks for the ride. Smoother than it looks.”
“First time?” Tav sounded surprised. “You didn’t seem nervous at all.”
“I don’t get nervous.” She wasn’t bragging — it was the truth.
“Another hole in your ‘shy’ story.”
Before Eli could think of an appropriate response, Tav had turned and walked inside. A bell tinkled faintly as they entered. Eli smelled rose petals and sage. It reminded her of the apothecary Circinae used to take her to when she was little. No one told her what had happened to him. People vanished in the witches’ city all the time — not always by choice, but often enough that she had never been too worried when an acquaintance disappeared for a month or a year.
Then again, magic ran on sacrifice, and the world sometimes took what it was owed.
“Large Americano and whatever my friend wants,” Tav told the barista, leaning on the counter. “God, I love your necklace.”
The woman behind the counter blushed and stammered a “thank you.”
Were they friends? Is that what Eli wanted?
“Large coffee. Black.” Eli unconsciously stepped into a patch of shadow and leaned against the cracked wooden wall. The barista slid a large mug across the counter.
“Grab us a seat,” said Tav. “I’ll find you.”
Eli should have downed the coffee, turned around, and marched out the door. Returned to her mission. Instead, she found herself taking the mug, shrugging, and then sitting down at a table in one corner.
The sun streamed in through the windows. Eli felt very visible. It was strange. She wasn’t used to being looked at the way Tav looked at her — like she was a person, like she was more than a witch’s tool. She wondered if that reflected poorly on her training. Did she stand out when she was supposed to blend in?
But she liked it.
Tav was still flirting cheerfully with the barista. Eli surreptitiously inspected her palm. It was unblemished, but the scent of smoke lingered. Frowning, she placed it back on her knee under the table. She sipped the coffee, wincing as the heat burned her lips, and watched Tav’s purple spikes catch the light, turning violet and lavender and royal blue. Before long, Tav was in front of Eli, all eyes and leather and smiles.
“Thanks again.” Eli kept reaching for words and watching them slip through her fingers. She shouldn’t be here. Strangely, she didn’t feel anxious. Her heart was beating smoothly, her breathing even and calm. She felt more relaxed than she had in years. Not dream-lulled, like she sometimes felt with Kite, but the kind of calm that comes with warm sunshine on a Sunday morning.
“Nice to have the company.”
A pause.
“I like your name,” Eli offered.
“Thanks. Picked it myself.” Tav winked.
“Where’s it from?”
“I read Dawn like a million times. Just one of those books that sticks with you, you know?”
“Dawn?”
“Humanity’s almost been destroyed by nuclear war? The main character mates with an alien — well, kind of. And the aliens have three genders?”
Eli shook her head. “Never heard of it.”
“Dude. You need to fix that immediately. Octavia Butler is amazing.”
“Yes, sir,” said Eli, arching an eyebrow.
“Thank god. My good deed for the day is done.” Tav took a sip and then sighed. “Best. Damn. Coffee. Ever.”
Eli was about halfway through hers and still hadn’t felt the angry kick of caffeine that would jolt her into action. She felt at peace.
“What is this place? It’s … different.”
Tav studied her face intently before answering. “I don’t know,” they said. “But something about it always brings me back, even though it’s never on my way. It just feels … right.”
Eli nodded. She could feel it, too. “Why did you bring me here?”
Tav looked away, a slight frown wrinkling the skin around their eyes. “I don’t know exactly. Finding you like that — like you’d walked out of a storm, or maybe a story — and you were crackling with this kind of energy. I just knew you needed to be here.”
“What kind of energy? Do you see auras or something?” Eli had met some of the new age types who played with fortune-telling and rituals. She had always laughed at them before, but maybe humans had their own kind of magic.
“Something like that. Yeah. And yours was … wild. Like nothing I’d ever seen before.”
“Is that a pick-up line?” Eli found herself smiling.
Tav laughed. “Hey, it usually works like a charm.”
“I’ll bet.” Eli rolled her eyes. Her gaze snagged on a succulent on the bar, its leaves writhing wildly. She blinked, and the plant was static again. Ordinary.
“Any time I get tired of driving around town, feeling stuck and tired and frustrated, I come here,” Tav said, dragging Eli’s attention back to them. “And then I feel a bit better. I sound crazy, I know.”
“No.” Eli caught their eye. “No, you don’t. I feel it, too.”
Tav leaned back and stretched. “I wish I could stay here all day. Forget about the world.”
“No.” Eli played with the handle of the mug. “You’d get bored.”
“True.”
There was a pause as they both finished their drinks.
“There’s one more thing I’d like to show you,” said Tav, looking out the window. “Will you come with me?”
“Okay,” said Eli, surprised by how much she wanted to.
Eli enjoyed the second ride better. She could feel the sun on her shoulders, the warm leather on her thighs. She watched Tav’s body moving with the rhythm of their breathing. The wind in her face was warm, tossing up dirt and gravel and dead insects.
Tav stopped at a hill just past the city limits. It was a rocky outcropping looking over the river. Eli had never come here. It was too far away from the heart of the town, where ghosts stalked prey and assassins stalked ghosts.
Tav clambered over the rocks carelessly and Eli followed, trying to remember to scuff her feet or kick stray pebbles. She didn’t need to show off.
(She wanted to show off.)
The sky was beginning to darken. Eli had never figured out how time worked between the worlds. But it was late afternoon at least — she could see the sun thinning like a worn-out blouse, and night coming into view behind it.