Dealing with the Dark | One Quirk Later #4

 *screams into the void* 

Wow! Don't those fortnights fly past!

...and yes, as predicted, this Quirk fought me most of the way. It's not what I expected it to be, either. It's a smol awkward gremlin of a story with just enough heart for me to forgive it.

Edit 13.9.20: Updated the story to Version 2! If it still doesn't make sense please let me know. I have a terrible habit of letting my characters get away with spilling ZERO beans, and that is why I need to get my family to beta-read. Because in my head I have just enough info that it make sense, and my characters actually mention none of that info. Ratbags.

 

Dealing with the Dark

“You are sure you wish to do this?” 

No, I’m not. I don’t care so much that I lost my shadow. But they also took the colour from my eyes, my ability to sleep anywhere but under the stars, and the last two letters from my name, leaving me at ‘Li’. No one knows what my name was before that. I don’t remember what my name was before that. 

(Lily? Lisa? Lian? None of them feel familiar.)

“Positive.” 

“You are sure? Didn’t—last time you passed through the willow gateway, that ended with you cold all the time.” 

The ability to feel heat. That was a fun one to lose. 

“It’s not like I have a choice, do I?” I fold the map, carefully, along the worn lines. “It’s autumn, so the gateway’s going to be on the east side of the lake. Shouldn’t take too long to find.” I’m pretty sure they’re toying with me at this point, after all. 

Trinket slides down from the roof of my car to sit knobbly-kneed on the bonnet beside where I’m leaning. “You really need to get better at bargains.” 

“I am better at bargains.” 

“It would have been hard to get worse—” 

“Apparently Michael was.” The snarl in my voice is unintentional and probably cruel. Trinket’s been a tight friend with his family from before he was born. “And he wasn’t an outsider to this life.” 

“He was seven, Li. He did not know what he was doing.” 

“Seven is old enough to know not to bargain with the fae!” I push off the bonnet, throw myself into the driver’s seat, and slam the door. 

Without touching the bitumen, Trinket swings in the open passenger window. “You are right. I should have looked out for him more. I did not, and the both of you have suffered for it.” 

I’m not angry at her. Or I shouldn’t be. Really, the only ones to blame are the fae who tricked a seven-year-old into deals he didn't understand. I take a breath and reach across her dangling feet to stuff the map in the glovebox. “Have you seen him recently?” 

“A day and another ago.” She tugs one of her ears around and nibbles on it. “He seemed calm. His mother says he has been almost lucid, but it is getting worse as the gateway to the fae nears opening. She looks old, Li. You should visit.” 

I should. I won’t. I can't make myself.

There’s a teddy, only the length of a finger, in the inner pocket of my jacket, and I find myself rubbing the threadbare fur. It’s a bad habit, and Trinket shoots me a rebuking look. 

“Li. Do not signal your weaknesses.” 

“It’s not like they don’t already have everything they can hit me with,” I shoot back. Her pale eyes half-disappear behind heavy lids, but I continue. “This is it. I can’t keep doing the same thing over and over, I can’t keep losing. I have less than two months, and if I lose as much as him in that time, I’ll be useless. This is the last time, and it has to work.” 

“You plan to hurl yourself at them until you are victorious or decimated.” 

I shrug. 

“Oh, Li.” 

She’s thinking of Michael, I’m sure of it. If I follow his path too closely, attempt and lose too many deals with the fae in a frantic attempt to break his childhood bargain, I’ll eventually slip up and bargain away even my memory and my mind. Piece by piece. I’ll end up in a bed beside his, staring at the wall all day.  

At least, I hope my mother-in-law would care for me as well. But I’d be a hypocrite to expect her to take that extra burden. I can’t make myself even visit him. 

I don’t want to approach the fae having faced the very visible consequences of failure, embodied in the shell of my husband.

(If I live through this, I’ll visit, sit by his bed and tell him it’s all over now.) 

“I’m desperate,” I admit. “I have to do this. For Michael and for Luca.”

Trinket pats my knee, fingers bony over my jeans. “I will follow you.” 

“What—no, you don’t—” 

“Into the dark, and beyond, however far you need to go.” Her voice is slightly wet. “For Michael and for Luca.” 

“Trinket, no.” She was practically Michael’s family, extended that to me without question when I married him, and wept with us when the fae came to collect on the deal he had made with them. She gave him what help she could when he went after the fae to break the deal, and she has kept me alive ever since I took over his quest. But I can’t let her come this time; I haven’t confessed why not and I don’t know how. “It’s not—this is my family, and I’ll take the risks. You shouldn’t be involved. It’s the fae.” 

“It is rude to contradict your elders, Li, and I have fifty years on you.” She grins—it doesn’t reach her eyes—and wiggles around to click her seat belt. “Besides. You are his mother, but you are not the only one who would do anything to get Luca back.” 

I don’t want her there when I deal with the fae. I cannot have her there when I deal with the fae. 

They told me I could end Michael’s childhood bargain, hold our firstborn child again, if I put Trinket into their power. Not because they want her. Because they want to see me do it. 

Tiny, innocent Luca in exchange for the creature who is all but his grandmother.

I don’t want her there, because I’m afraid of what I know I’ll chose. 

I start the engine. 

I do feel like this maybe needed more... explanation? set-up? actual investment of Plotting Time and also a handful of Beta readers to look at me in bewilderment? but hey! I had very little idea of what was going on with this gremlin o'mine, so you shall have just as little.

Also—as I said last time—I am terrible at titling. *awkward laugh*

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Shout out to The Story Sponge, who has written about two Avonlea-spinster-style sisters who find a girl on top of their car! and it is just as awesome as it sounds.

And to Samantha, who took the "into the dark" prompt in a direction I did not expect and it hits hard.

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Now I shall go and read all the lovely posts you guys have been writing on your blogs, because I have NOT been doing that, and I should be.

The next Quirk will go up on the 26th of September, plus or minus a couple of time zones! See you all then!