No Turning Back by Sharon T. Rose
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Three weeks later, Sylenn stood outside a tall building in Suljem. She stared up at its four stories, thinking. She hadn't meant to stop here, not really. But she hadn't been able not to stop, either. It was another scheduled prowl day for the beast, and she'd already tagged and picked up three Drones this morning. Now, just past noon, she found herself in the heart of the business district, in front of the building that housed the Ivrithan Today news-paper. And Jerell Graig.
She sighed and shook her head angrily. No use thinking any more about it; she couldn't simply--
Wait, she could. With her newfound ability, she could simply walk in unrecognized and watch him unawares. It would be a perfect way to make certain he suffered no ill effects from the cleansing, as Satherlin had officially dubbed it. She only needed a secret place to suit--
"Miss Jenfsen!"
Sylenn spun around into a half-crouch. Graig halted in his approach from the building's main entrance. After a second, she stood up, rubbing her sleeves self-consciously.
"What a pleasant surprise!" Graig resumed his stride toward her. "I didn't-- Ah, it's good to see you again! How are you doing today?" His big smile never slipped.
"Um, fine, I guess," Sylenn replied, ducking her head. Then she looked back up at him. "I didn't come here on purpose, to wait for you or anything. I just was walking by, and I remembered that you said you worked here, that's all."
"Certainly, certainly; I would never imply anything. I'm simply delighted to see you again." Graig didn't offer to touch her, but Sylenn thought that he might have wanted to at least pat her arm. He seemed like the type who would.
"So, um, I'll be on my way; didn't mean to disturb you--"
"Oh, not at all, Miss Jenfsen, not at all. I was actually on my way to get something to eat. Do you have time to join me?"
Sylenn hesitated. It was tempting. It would be a good opportunity to study him more. It would be a good opportunity to learn how to trust people more, like Satherlin had said. She knew she needed to open up and be nicer to people.
And Graig still smelled so nice. Clean human, despite the gaping hole where the Sukker had been. But even that was healing, if slowly, giving way to the man's natural, human scent.
"Um, alright."
"Excellent!" Graig beamed and offered her his arm. She was dressed in her customary hunting clothes, the vagrant's garb that still felt the most comfortable to her. Now, though, it didn't feel so comfortable as she gingerly slipped her ragged sleeve over Graig's smooth one. He seemed determined not to notice any discrepancy and led her proudly down the street.
He cheerily informed her that he'd planned to visit the bakery one street over and then dine in the park. She nodded silently as he chattered on.
It was strange, she mused as she walked beside him, noting the various glances of the passers-by. Who would have thought that she would ever find herself in a position like this? When she was a child, certainly, she had dreamed of beaus like any other girl. When the beast had consumed her, those dreams and faded into nightmares. Yet now here she was.
Her next wondering was why Graig was being so nice to her.
She wasn't much to look at, in her scruffy (though clean) clothes, her barely-brushed hair frizzing out from under the man's cap she wore low over her forehead, and scrawny figure. She knew her faced was still pinched from years of starvation and terror. The ministrations of Twanne and Konyetta had smoothed much of the roughness from her skin and helped heal many of the scars, but they were still there. She was still the kind of female that no respectable man should ever think about being seen with. Graig was obviously a respectable man. Why did he want to be seen with her?
Graig didn't seem to mind her silence and guided her into the bakery, the smells of which brought an enormous rumble to her stomach and a badly hidden smile to Graig's lips.
"Now, Miss Jenfsen, I'll not hear any polite refusals this time. I was planning to buy enough for several meals, so there will be plenty for you, as well. Please, pick something that appeals to you!" He waved grandly at the interior of the shop. Sylenn nodded and managed a small smile in return. He beamed; she hastily ducked her head and looked around.
It was a nicer shop than she was accustomed to being in, certainly. The woman behind the counter eyed her closely, rightly thinking that a drab like she appeared to be would try to steal something. Sylenn didn't do that (anymore), but the careful watch didn't bother her. She purposefully stuffed her hands into her pockets and focused on the wares.
After a short time, they exited the shop, Graig with a large parcel under his left arm and Sylenn's hand under his right. Walking two blocks over, they came to the park that Graig had mentioned. It was small but quite lovely. Sylenn recalled that the Descendants had fought a few Sukkers here barely a month before, yet already the damage was repaired and the beds replanted. She wouldn't have guessed it if she hadn't already known.
Graig led her to a wrought-iron bench and formally seated her. Then he sat himself and began unwrapping their lunch.
"I hope you don't mind, Miss Jenfsen, if I take a moment to offer a prayer of thanks for this meal. I'm a Sacerdotist, and I feel it a good thing to thank God for anything I eat."
Sylenn nodded and offered wryly, "I'd always thank God, too, whenever I got to eat."
Graig blinked, then smiled hugely. "I imaging you would! And I appreciate your understanding." He bowed his head and offered a simple, heartfelt prayer. Sylenn ducked her head but kept her cap on.
"Alright, then, let's eat! I don't know about you, Miss Jenfsen, but I'm famished!" He tore off a hunk of bread and handed it to her. They passed the small pat of butter back and forth and shared the slices of cheese. Eating seemed to be the only thing that kept Graig from talking, Sylenn decided.
Swallowing his mouthful, Graig asked, "If I may ask, Miss Jenfsen, how have you been these past weeks?"
Sylenn took her time chewing and swallowing. "Fine. Doing things, running errands for my brother."
"Oh? And how is he doing?" It was the kind of thing one would say at a polite party (Fulenthen had by now attended a few of those, at Laillmen's behest), something one said but didn't mean or care about the response to. Graig, however, seemed to be genuinely interested. He was quite good at being sincere, she decided.
"He's fine. Still mad at me, but he'll get over it." She took a large bite.
"I see. He must care for you a great deal." Graig took a mouthful as well.
"Um, yeah," Sylenn mumbled around her meal. "Guess he does. He just shows it, um, forcefully."
"I can understand that!" Graig laughed. "I was a terror when it came to my sisters! I wouldn't let them have an inch of space when I thought they'd stepped out of line. They were not pleased with me, as you well know." Sylenn murmured something and took another bite.
When the silence dragged on, she asked, "How many sisters do you have?"
"Two, and both of them happily married to men I approved of," Graig replied with a grin. "One older, one younger. I'm quite grateful that they put up with me for so many years!"
He sobered, looking down into his lap. "I am also grateful that they forgave me for my actions earlier this year."
Sylenn paused. Did he mean ...?
"I hope that it does not alarm you to know, Miss Jenfsen, that I was ... taken, I suppose is the word for it, by a Sukker. But don't worry! The Descendants were able to free me from it! The newest one, Fulenthen Sonelion, used a new technique to completely free me. But when I was under its sway, for that month and six days, I ... did things and said things that were hateful and horrible. I still cannot believe that I did that. It is my great shame.
"And my redemption, in a way. It forced me to realize some things about myself that I hadn't ever considered, which is the reason why I've taken such an interest in you, Miss Jenfsen. I know you've been wondering about my motives; I can see it on your face. I realized, when I awoke from that dark month, that I'd become incredibly self-centered, so focused on
"That means paying more attention to what goes on around me and to the people I may come across. Life is too precious to waste, I think." He smiled at her, and she could see a shadow of concern in his eyes. She thought for several minutes as she finished her meal.
"Am I a charity case, then?"
"Of course not!" Graig immediately denied. "I think of you as a fellow human being and an intriguing woman whose company I am fortunate to keep!"
"'Intriguing'?" Sylenn repeated glumly. "I'm far more freakish than intriguing."
"Not at all, Miss Jenfsen," Graig assured her.
"You've decided you won't waste your life, so you take up with a beggar woman?" she shot back. "Trying to get a bit more variety, is that it?"
"Not at all, Miss Jenfsen," Graig repeated calmly. "And I know that you're pressing me for honesty. I hope that you believe that I am being honest. I was first concerned for your safety and your wellbeing. As we talked a bit more, I realized that you are an interesting person and that I wanted to get to know you better. Yes, I did hesitate. I wondered what I was doing, reaching out to someone so obviously capable of taking care of herself. And, yes, a part of me found your dress and manner cause for concern. I let that thought have its run, and then I set it aside.
"What someone else says, does, or wears is never an excuse for my own words, actions, or thoughts. I had a choice to make as I stood on the side-walk and watched those ragamuffins slink off. I could go on my way, having done my good deed for the day, or I could challenge myself to be the better man and make certain that you were well. I'm rather glad I did stay, Miss Jenfsen; I'm very glad to have met you and gotten to know you little."
Sylenn stared at him, trying to keep her laughter and disbelief hidden. For whatever good that did; Graig seemed to be able to read her like one of his news-papers. The bizarre thing was that Graig took himself seriously; he actually thought he meant what he'd just said. All that about ... Fah! She ducked her head under her cap.
Graig laughed self-consciously. "I know, I sound like a mad man. And much as I would like to say more to convince you of my sincerity, I fear I must return to my office. I do appreciate you stopping to have lunch with me, Miss Jenfsen, and I hope that we will meet again." Graig stood and smiled down at her.
Sylenn darted a glance up at him, carefully keeping her hat brim covering one eye. The man was a fool. She shrugged noncommittally.
"Well, again, thank you, Miss Jenfsen. I apologize that I'm not able to see you to your destination. Ah, if you're ever around this area again, I usually finish with my work duties about five-thirty in the evenings. If you'd like to join me for a real dinner, you only need let me know." He gathered the extra food, bowed, and left.
Sylenn watched him go. Poor simp; he was going to be sadly disillusioned one day. And how stupid did he think she was? He did think of her as a charity case, as some kind of atonement for his "sin" of being taken by a Sukker. As though anyone had any control over whom a Sukker took for its host; they seemed to take anyone who wasn't a Descendant. There wasn't any way to predict who would or wouldn't become a Drone any more than you could predict who would or wouldn't become a Descendant. While Descendants were always born to a previous Descendant, those bloodlines were scattered far and wide across Alluvia.
Now would be a perfect time to sneak in to see him at work, to see if he acted the same around others as he did around her. To see what effects his time as a Drone had on his life, aside from the nonsense he spouted to her. Sylenn rose from the bench and made her way out of the park, toward some buildings that had a promising alley-way between them. She got half way there before the beast scented prey. Snarling, she changed directions.