Of course maybe I was projecting or transferring or whatever it was when you got freaked out about one thing but were really freaked out about something else. Just because my last attempt to save one of my friends from a terrible fate had backfired horribly, it didn’t mean this one would.
The ritual drew to a close with Dr Bright stepping up to Elise, making a few final incantations, and kissing her on the lips.
I was slightly shocked but immensely relieved to see the doctor leap back in surprise as Elise turned from stone to flesh, or to the illusion of flesh.
“That … was not anticipated,” she stammered.
Elise stumbled like the little mermaid, and I dashed forward to catch her, yet again remembering too late that doing those kinds of things with a broken arm was a poor life choice.
She looked up into my eyes and for a horrible, horrible moment I thought she might have forgotten me. “Miss Kane,” she exclaimed. “You are alive.” She righted herself and began giving me the once-over. “But you seem to have fared poorly in the battle. You are quite in pieces.”
Quite in pieces didn’t cover it. In the time she’d been gone I’d—fuck. What had I done? I was way drunker most of the time than I should have been, way more inclined to sleep in my clothes and in my office or with whoever would have me. Sure I was injured but more than that I was a fucking miserable out-of-control mess and seeing Elise again made it clear how far I’d let myself slip. “Yeah,” I told her “I’ve not been eating the bananas either.”
Her look of dismay at this news was so familiar I burst into tears. And out of whatever passed for instinct for a person made entirely out of stone and stolen fire, she hugged me. “We are not where we were, are we?” she said after a little while. “I think perhaps some time has passed?”
I explained. And it was harder than I thought it would be. Losing her had been bad enough, getting her back and then having to explain how I’d lost her and what a shitty job I’d made of un-losing her, or of baseline taking care of myself while she was gone, was more than I could even. I choked through it, in the end, and thought she took it well, but then she’d always been stronger than I was. “Then I got a message from Dr Bright here saying she could help,” I managed, sputtering my way towards an embarrassingly phlegmy conclusion, “and we put you back together. And that’s kind of it.”
Elise took the doctor’s hand and shook it. “I am most gratified, Dr Bright.”
“Not at all.” For somebody who’d accidentally brought a statue to life with magic, she was doing surprisingly well. “And please, call me Nick. It’s been … instructive.”
When Nicola Bright had gone, I led Elise out into the rain and we stood on the pier at Canary Wharf watching the grey-brown waters of the Thames dance and churn in the storm.
“I confess myself worried,” she observed. “Miss Nimue has always been an ally, and with Miss Saint-Germain no longer to be relied upon, I worry that we are rather alone.”
I put an arm around her. It felt good but weird but good to know she was in my life again. “Not totally alone. Eve’s still around. And Tara is …” actually what was Tara? She was on my side, definitely, maybe more so than Julian had been because Julian was a fundamentally selfish creature and incapable of changing. But I didn’t want to put a label on what me and Tara had, if it even made sense to talk about us having a what at all. “She’s with us too, I think. And maybe we’re overthinking it anyway. It’s not like anything’s happening. Apart from the rain.” I shrugged. “And I’ve always liked rain.”
“I believe all will be well.” She patted me gently on the arm, and I winced. “But I must insist we bring you to a hospital at once,” she said. “You have left this far too long without treatment.”
I sighed. “You’re right. I don’t know how I ever managed to get along without you.”
She insisted on hailing a cab immediately, and with the rain drumming on the roof like improv jazz, I let myself be carried away into the city. I leaned my head against Elise’s shoulder and shut my eyes. Yes,