Chapter 46 #2
“Mmhm. William’s at the pool, and I think everyone else wants us to go down at some point, and we should maybe talk to Jocasta about our next job, but we can do that in the afternoon.
For now, if we’re worried about the others running away and ditching us, well, the next logical step is to start a band. Right?”
Malek laughed, but soon nodded. “So let’s get your lessons started.”
An hour later, the first callous was forming on Caspar’s finger. When they fell back into the bed, kissing and touching and exploring, Caspar wasn’t even mad that the lesson had been cut short. He figured there’d be more than enough time.
“Hey. Nat sent me something.”
“Oh yeah?”
Malek brought up the email with the scanned drawings attached. Caspar put down his buttered English muffin and squinted at the file. The glare from the large glass windows of the lounge area just outside the hotel pool made it difficult to see Malek’s phone. “Can I see for myself?”
“Sure,” Malek said, handing over his phone easily. “I mean, I gave you my ring and all. I think you can pretty much do what you want.”
Caspar smiled slyly. “Is that so? Well, it’s still polite to ask.”
“Fair enough. You read it over. I’m going to get more English muffins.”
Caspar dabbed his fingers on the napkin before he browsed through the photos.
They all appeared to be of tarot cards, like the kind that William had brought to the apartment.
The first one was for Death, which would have been ominous, save for the fact that Death appeared as a small blond-haired woman in a suit holding a briefcase marked with occult symbols rather than a scythe.
Oh. That’s Katja. Caspar quickly looked through the rest of the set and realized that they had all been reconfigured into the Major Arcana.
Katja was Death, while Natasha was The Hierophant, painted in gold with brass knuckles on the hand she held up.
William was Temperance, and spilled water from one hand to the next.
The Chariot card’s chariot had been replaced with the same Nissan Xterra they’d driven to safety, but with Jocasta behind the wheel and her angel medallion in place.
Ultima’s chair had been reconfigured into a throne for her card, making her The Emperor.
Malek stood at the centre of The Wheel of Fortune, his back tattoo transformed into the wheel itself.
When Caspar reached the end, he expected to see something similar to The Judge card for himself, but instead he was The Tower.
He seemed to step out of the fallen building, his body long and lean, his wings red like fire.
“What do you think?” Malek sat down at the small breakfast nook, his plate piled high with more eggs in addition to the English muffins. “I think it’s a good likeness. Nat takes liberties with some elements, but he gets the bulk of it right.”
“It’s… overwhelming. Makes me feel mythic.”
“You already were, Ghoul of Main Street.”
“But that was a lie. It was always a cover story.” Caspar slid back the phone, though the images still appeared in front of him, like a vision, each time he blinked. “These feel so much more real than that.”
“I get it. But that’s good, right? Proof that our legacy goes beyond us. That the work we’ve done, in spite of being solely for ourselves, also reaches beyond us, too.”
Malek’s voice took on the familiar, airy quality it always did when he talked about music.
When Caspar glimpsed at the email attachments again, under Malek’s encouragement, he could see what he was talking about.
They weren’t just myths or legends used to frighten people anymore.
They were important, and with Jocasta’s help and guidance, they could keep doing good work.
When Natasha and Katja emerged from the hotel hallway, holding each other’s hand and a pool towel in the other, Caspar waved.
Malek also turned around to greet them as they stepped into the bright sunlight.
Though everyone had made vague plans about going to the pool today, so far Malek and Caspar were still eating like it was their last meal, while the women were the only people to actually make it to the water.
“You know what I’ve heard?” Caspar asked after a couple more bites of his English muffin. “Natasha and Katja are going to take my house.”
“For another museum?”
“Maybe. I don’t know if they’ve decided yet.
I know I don’t want to live there anymore.
And since Anthony’s company has now been disbanded, and thanks to some wishes we had stored up, the land is free for something good to happen.
So maybe they’ll start a museum that honours the myths and the legends, you know?
I think they may ask Erwin for some help getting all the proper djinn artifacts, along with those tapestries I saw in the museum. ”
“Oh no,” Malek said with a light chuckle. “Why do I have a feeling there’s another job coming on here?”
“Maybe,” Caspar said. “I think that’s the safest answer right now. At least until Jocasta assigns us something.”
Caspar went back to butter his English muffin when he caught a glimpse of a familiar woman entering the back lounge area. Her curly brown hair and the graceful way she walked left no doubt—it was Amara.
Caspar froze. His stomach sank and his wings bristled under his shirt.
When Malek followed his gaze and noticed her, his mouth fell agape as well.
Caspar was ready to bust his wings out of his shirt and fly them both away from there—but Amara waved with a soft smile.
She made her way to the coffee machine, filled up a mug, and then sat at the table next to them.
Caspar and Malek both looked at one another, unmoving.
“Hello,” she said after a moment. “I know you two took the crown.”
“Shit.” Caspar rubbed his thumb around the ring over and over again.
It wouldn’t work to call Malek, obviously, but the motion still made him feel better.
He glanced out to the pool to see if there were gargoyles or any type of police, but only saw Natasha and Katja splashing one another.
They didn’t seem at all perturbed by the appearance of Amara at their hotel.
“It’s okay,” she said after a moment. “I’m not here to harm you.”
“What are you here for?”
“The coffee? Look, I knew someone would come for something in that storage unit. I didn’t have any gardeners scheduled that day.”
Caspar’s face went red. He knew their luck had been too good. Amara had known all along when they broke in. She might have even made it easier by leaving out security information and invitations, not to mention making her password so easy to figure out.
“So why did you do it?” Malek asked. “And why come here again if you wanted us to take the crown? I don’t understand.”
“I’m in the business of collecting artifacts.
My story about meeting George at an auction is true, but we both had very different goals.
I wanted to bid on the item to free the djinn inside, but he wanted to keep it in a museum.
So after we fell in love, I told him my story.
George understands my side of things, but he still likes auctions and estate sales.
He likes owning things, and, well, we compromise a lot.
That’s the key to any good relationship. ”
“And how do you compromise?”
“He buys whatever he wants, and I insist we have a public collection. We have a gala, and then wait to see what goes missing. When I figure it out, I replicate the piece.”
“You’re a forger?” Malek asked, his eyes wide with awe. “You make fakes?”
“Yes. But only after the piece has been appraised by the museum. That way, it’s the best of both worlds.
The person who needs the item is free to have it, and George never has to know which one of his special pieces has gone missing.
Normally,” she added, leaning back in her chair, “I don’t go and see who has taken the item.
But you two seemed like a special case.”
Caspar and Malek both glanced at their plates before meeting Amara’s eyes again.
She explained a bit more about how she vetted the real jewel thieves and scavengers who came to pillage from their collection, and only allowed those who really needed the items to take them.
They had the whole system down to a science.
Caspar was in awe at Amara’s skill and care, but also because she still looked so, so familiar.
Her brown eyes and soft liquid voice. Curly hair just like his mother.
When she met his gaze, she gave a simple nod and smiled.
“Interviewee 261,” she said slowly. “I shared my story a lot before I met George.”
“Oh, wow.” Caspar’s heart pounded. She was part of his family. And now, she was also part of Malek’s. “Wow.”
“I know. It’s a lot to take in. But I wanted you to know, Caspar, that there is good in this family. It’s possible to leave, still keep your powers, and be happy. It’s not a simple choice, but it’s possible with compromise.”
“Compromise?” Caspar repeated.
Amara merely nodded. “Compromise doesn’t mean splitting yourself in two. It means working together for the best possible outcome.”
Caspar was quiet for a moment as he took in the information. When he caught Malek’s gaze, he saw the smile dance on his lips. A family. A family. We’re all a family again.
“Thank you,” Caspar said. “For telling me all this, and for coming all the way out here.”
“Oh, it was nothing. This hotel does have good coffee. And English muffins.”
“They really do.”
Amara rose from the table, ready to leave, but Caspar called out again.
“Yes?”
“There are tapestries in the basement of the museum. Ones with djinns with wings. They weren’t in your unit, but do you know who they belong to?”
Amara smiled. “I have an inkling. Let me see what I can do about freeing those up as well.”
“Thank you,” Malek said this time. “Really. We both appreciate it.”
When Amara held her mug of coffee up to cheers, they all clinked their glasses together. The sound was like music to Caspar’s ears.