The days after the raid on the Merchant’s base were a whirlwind of activity, the majority of which passed by in a blur. Pug was carried back to the workshop in Eleanore’s gentle embrace and laid down in his cot with explicit orders to rest and recuperate. The doctors Eleanore and Reid brought to see him concluded that, while they were distinctly unfamiliar with fairy biology, it seemed as though the Merchant had broken his legs. Based on how he felt, Pug was inclined to agree with their diagnosis. Neither Eleanore or Tourmaline wanted to leave his side as he recovered, the latter arranging her own cot to sleep in just beside his. Pug normally did not enjoy being fretted over and pampered, however, given the situation, it seemed like Tourmaline needed something to occupy her mind.
On the other end of the spectrum, Reid and Thalia hardly stopped by at all. Even on the first day, when Pug was delirious with pain, fever, and fatigue the two Wardens were only able to stop by long enough to make sure he was going to recover. Tourmaline speculated the Wardens were avoiding them, punctuating her point with a sullen grumble before stomping away to sulk. Pug had disagreed with Lina’s theory at first, believing it to be the product of the gnome’s frustration with the Wardens. As time went on and Thalia continued to fail to visit, as even Eleanore was kept in the dark, Pug began to suspect his gnomish friend was onto something.
Perhaps he began to embrace her opinions because she wouldn’t stop talking about it. The gnome was entirely disenchanted with humans, disgusted they allowed such a monster to live among them. It only became worse as when Eleanore let slip the information Thalia had the opportunity to rescue Jet, she had stood in the very store he was held captive in and had walked away. No matter how often Pug attempted to remind her the entire building had been ensorcelled and enchanted beyond measure, Tourmaline’s opinion of the Warden never changed. In fact, she began to suspect Thalia was deliberately withholding relevant information about Jet in an attempt to hide her own guilt.
Pug’s doubts didn’t go far. He thought he knew Thalia relatively well, as well as he could know her given how much time he spent with her. In particular the days leading up the raid had been spent in near constant companionship. It was rapidly becoming obvious to him Thalia was avoiding them, but in an effort to spare herself any guilt or recrimination? didn’t at all fit the Warden he’d come to know. It was more likely, in his opinion, that she thought she was doing them a kindness by hiding from them. He just wished Thalia would stop by long enough for him to tell her he’d rather know the truth than live in suspense.
He’d formed this opinion after nearly a week of ruminating. By the time the second week with no word had passed he’d found his patience thoroughly tested, though not in the least by Lina’s constant complaints. He thanked his lucky stars when, at the dawn of the third week, Reid and Thalia stopped by the workshop. Pug’s heart went out to them immediately, the pair looking worn and beaten down. Reid looked particularly poorly, his skin pale and perpetually damp with sweat. Sleep deprivation had carved deep lines into his face and stamped dark circles under his eyes. It seemed as though the Inquirer hadn’t slept a wink since he’d been let out of the hospital. Pug thought he ought to still be in the hospital, the Inquirer’s heart having almost stopped when he took a magical bolt to the chest. It failed to kill him outright, however he had spent the entire raid fighting for survival under the ministrations of the wizard and medics in the street while his Wardens fought and died inside the store.
And die they did, by the handful. Reid gave Pug as much information as he could about the aftermath of the raid, though Pug couldn’t bring himself to interrogate the weary Inquirer too hard.Quietly, Reid disclosed the team at the backdoor hadn’t had a wizard. They hadn’t had much in the way of magical defenses. Though, the ones who came in the front hadn’t gotten out unscathed either. Several had been hit as Caimon’s shield began to fail and the Black Dog had managed to kill two Wardens in their attempt to save Alphonse. Caimon himself survived though the wizard slept for a full week after the raid, recovering his drained magic.
Grim news delivered, Reid seemed to want to change the subject. He introduced himself to Tourmaline, smiling politely through the gnomes surly greeting. Lina pouted and stamped her feet, however she still grabbed the human’s outstretched finger and bobbed it up and down in an approximation of a handshake.Tourmaline looked ready to burst with questions and accusations, though she managed to hold her tongue. Reid asked about Pug’s recovery and Pug politely confirmed he was on the mend though his legs were still in splints. He still wasn’t able to fly for long, though he was getting closer to his old times.
“Probably because that’s the only way you can get around.” Reid laughed, his tone a tinge sour.
“Hopefully my legs heal soon or they’ll atrophy and I’ll have to fly everywhere.” Pug replied with a smile he didn’t really feel.
Thalia and Eleanore emerged from the back room, talking in low tones. Their faces were flushed and voices rough with contained emotion, Eleanore grasping onto Thalia’s sleeve. Thalia jerked her arm away, pulling her sleeve roughly from Eleanore’s grip. She passed by Reid like a stormfront on her way to the door, leaving the befuddled Inquirer to stumble to his feet after her. It was in his momentary distraction, Pug struck.
“Inquirer Reid, I know you’re probably busy with the aftermath and reports and everything.” Pug spoke quickly. “But Lina and I, we’re wondering if you had any information on our friend?”
Reid froze in the middle of standing up, looking between Pug and Thalia’s stiffened back. Thalia’s shoulders slumped as she turned around, and she only got smaller under Reid’s intense gaze. Pug saw Eleanore put her hands on her hips and give Thalia a look screamed ‘I-told-you-so’. It seemed this was, perhaps, the root of their argument.
“You haven’t told them?” Reid inquired in a low tone.
“Pug was still recovering, I thought it would do more harm than good.” She explained.
“And you feel responsible for failing to stop the Merchant the first time you saw him.” Tourmaline stated flatly.
“Of course. I’m not above saying I felt guilty.” Thalia paused, swallowing thickly. “And afraid. Afraid of how both of you would take it.”
“I’m well enough to hear it now, Thalia.” Pug said with a wan smile.
Thalia opened her mouth as though to reply, finding herself too choked up to speak at first. She cleared her throat and blinked her eyes, hard, in an effort to stave off the tears Pug could already see beginning to form. With a deep breath she mastered her heart well enough to speak, though her voice was still tremulous and weak.
“It’s hard to say for certain, given the fire. We’re not certain we managed to free all of the captives on the main floor.” Tourmaline paled then, though Thalia didn’t seem to notice. “Moreover, we found evidence of a basement and the… remains of the Wyldelife he’d brought down there.”
For a moment Thalia looked as though she were going to vomit, and Reid was quick to interject.
“The fire got to the basement, of course, but we were able to recover some of the records the Merchant had kept. I won’t go into it into too much detail, but it appears as if the ‘Faerie Dust’ moniker was a product of the monster’s sick sense of humor. In a very literal sense the Dust was made of Wyldelife, and other supernatural creatures.”
“Several of the beings who were willing to stay and answer our questions confirmed they’d seen a gnome brought to the basement as well.” Thalia took back over, nodding her thanks to Reid for the momentary reprieve. “Based on their testimony, what we recovered of the Merchant’s research logs, and the state of the building, we believe it’s unlikely Jet survived.”
“I see.” Pug said, at a loss for words. Tourmaline clenched his hand in her own, nearly crushing it in her grip.
“The ones who died in the fire.” She whispered. “Is it my fault?”
“No,” Thalia said firmly. “Don’t you ever think that. Without the distraction of the fire, without the assistance of the creatures you freed, we might well have all died that night.”
Tourmaline didn’t reply, bringing her hands up to hide her face. Pug put his newly freed hand on her shoulder, but couldn’t think of a single thing to say to reassure her. He realized there was likely nothing he could, or should, say. Sometimes you had to let a friend hurt and all you could do is be by their side as they processed it.
“Thank you, for telling us.” Pug said simply.
Pug reached out a hand and Thalia extended her own, the little fairy grabbing the tip of her index finger. He smiled at her and he saw it nearly broke the Warden. Whatever happened in the days going forward, he didn’t want Thalia to hold onto this guilt. She seemed the type to need a burden and if she were going to carry one he reasoned it ought to be the burden of responsibility, not blame. Thalia’s composure crumbled then, and she swept her small friends up into a nearly crushing embrace. Eleanore was close behind, though Reid only looked on from a distance with a faintly bemused expression.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Thalia blubbered. “I was afraid you’d blame me for failing to save him.”
“You did everything you could. You’re only human, after all.” Pug mumbled through a mouthful of cloth. Thalia shook her head and let out a small chuckle that was quite nearly drowned out by her tears. Pug was moved by how much the duty-bound human truly cared.
Pug managed to extricate himself from the crushing hug and murmured words of comfort. If Tourmaline was still bitter the humans had withheld the information so long, he couldn’t tell it. She had her face buried in Eleanore’s shirt as she sobbed, the human cooing and stroking her back gently with two fingers. Pug felt wholly unsure what, precisely, he could add to . Indeed, Pug found he couldn’t bring himself to cry, or rage, or feel much of anything at all. He felt like he was looking at the world through a pane of thick glass. The realization sent a jolt of fear through him, though even that was muted and distant. In a scramble he tried to remember the last time he’d worried about Jet or thought about him. Had he just not cared about Jet? What kind of friend, what kind of person did make him?
His thoughts only picked up speed as he turned over every stray thought and errant emotion in a vain attempt to find his grief. The emotions he thought he should have been feeling were nowhere to be found. Instead a rising tide of nebulous something began to choke him. It was as though there was too much, too much to hear and see and process. It was about to overwhelm him when he felt a firm and reassuring presence at his back. Pug looked up and saw Inquirer Reid staring down at him, his normally stoic expression softened by compassion.
“It’s okay, you’re in shock.” Reid murmured. “You can’t rush this kid, you have to let the feelings come to you when they’re ready to.”
“But I don’t feel anything, at all.” Pug whispered. “That can’t be right.”
“When the time comes, you’ll feel it. You won’t want to, but you will.” Reid paused, a darkness filling his eyes told Pug the old Inquirer knew all too much about grief. “You may not cry, or rage. Everyone does it differently, but it will come all the same.”
Reid’s reassurances did little to assuage Pug’s worries, the words hollow and falling flat to Pug’s ears. He had little control over how he felt, but to be devoid of anything at all haunted him far more than he thought any other feeling could. He knew all he could do was move forward, however for a brief moment he wasn’t sure he could. Perhaps he’d be locked in this moment forever, unable to change or move on. Tourmaline, perhaps sensing his inner turmoil, broke away from Eleanore and Thalia and moved towards him. Pug met her eyes, helpless, and what he saw there finally broke him. With a blubbering cry he all but tackled Tourmaline, the stout gnome absorbing the impact without budging. As they held each other and cried, all Pug could think about was how her eyes held softness and care and, more importantly, what they didn’t hold.
She doesn’t blame me at all. Pug wondered, realizing how deeply he had wounded himself in his own guilt.
***
It was quite a while later the last of the tears dried and the last snotty kerchief was stowed for washing. The four of them had exhausted themselves with their emoting, what with Tourmaline, Pug, and Thalia crying their hearts out why Eleanore busied herself with reassuring and consoling her friends. She’d made about a dozen cups of tea throughout the ordeal and was beginning to look a little haggard and worn herself. Or at least, as haggard and worn as a lady of her standing could afford to look. Inquirer Reid had maintained his stoicism, compassionately choosing to vacate the premises when it became evident they weren’t going to calm down in short order. He returned a few hours later and a few kebabs richer, which he shared amongst the party. Thalia, in particular, seemed oddly happy with the food though Pug couldn’t tell why.
“I have something I’ve been meaning to ask you, Pug.” Thalia asked, the first to break the awkward tension formed in a room full of people who had just watched each other cry.
Pug cocked his head, curious. He had a mouthful of kebab he was working on, but he nodded at the Warden to continue.
“What magic do you cast on your spear? I’ve never seen anything like it. Are you a wizard?” Thalia blurted, and though she was the first to vocalize it, curiosity was evident on everyone’s face.
“I’m not a wizard or sorcerer or anything of the like.” Pug stated. “That was just my natural magic.”
“Natural magic?” Thalia echoed, while Tourmaline nodded sagely. She’d be familiar with the concept, but some concern must have occurred to her as she stopped nodding along and pursed her lips.
“The creatures of the Wylde and other supernatural sorts are all beings of magic, to one degree or another.” Pug explained, clearing his throat. “While we can learn to cast spells using our magic, most of us just use what comes most easily to us. This is called our natural magic, as it tends to exemplify some part of our nature.”
“And your magic made you poisonous?” Thalia arched her brow.
“Fairies are nature spirits, we’re each named after a particular flower. My flower happens to be poisonous, and I channeled a bit.” Pug explained, trying to remember how they explained it in his nursery school.
“How do they know what to name you? Is there a test or something that tells your parents what plant you take after?” Eleanore chimed in, inquisitiveness sparkling in her eyes.
“Our parents don’t name us? We’re born named after the concept we represent. Tourmaline is the same, in a way she’s a tourmaline spirit.” The humans appraised Tourmaline with eyes full of newfound appreciation and wonder, however his gnomish friend finally seemed able to voice what bothered her.
“So you are the same! I’ve been wondering what kind of flower a pug is.” Tourmaline said, consternation written clearly across her face.
“Pug isn’t my name!” Pug tittered.
“What?” Lina cried.
“Pug is a nickname, Belladonna and her coterie used to tease me with it.” Pug chuckled. “I asked everyone I knew to call me by name, so it wouldn’t have power over me anymore.”
Tourmaline gaped, stunned at the revelation. Pug got the sense his friend was upset though he wasn’t sure why. He tried to meet her eyes but the gnome studiously avoided his gaze. Before he could prod her as to what was wrong his attention was called elsewhere.
“What’s your real name then?” Thalia interjected, oblivious to Tourmaline’s mood.
“My name is Foxglove.”
“Then where did Pug come from?” Eleanore wondered
“I’m named after a moth. The foxglove pug lays its larva in the flower. It’s a play on my true name and on my wings.” He spread his wings to show them, momentarily forgetting about his maiming at Gregor’s hands. “Oh. Well my wings were brown and tan, you know, before. Fairies usually have beautiful, colorful wings.”
“And sets you apart from all the other children.” Eleanore grumbled, meeting Pug’s gaze with sympathy. “I know how it feels, Pug, and I’m sorry. They probably won’t like your new wings all that much either.”
“They’d find some reason to mock me no matter what.” Pug smiled at Eleanore reassuringly. “I can guarantee these are going to be the most beautiful wings in the village. Well, aside from Orchid’s.”
Something in his tone must have given him away, some note of wistfulness or loneliness. In any case, both Thalia and Eleanore perked up at Orchid’s name and began to question him with increasing intensity. Their badgering about who she was, how long he’d known her, what she was like, kept him from addressing Tourmaline like he meant to. It wasn’t long before his friend shuffled away to lie upon the cot Eleanore had provided for her. Assuming her terseness had been born of fatigue, Pug resolved to let her sleep the pain of the day away.
