Nightshade

Aine leaned against the window of her bedroom, listening to the ticking of the birch grandfather clock in the far corner. Her seafoam green skirts draped over the window-seat and delicate jewel earrings dangled from her ears. She twisted a gold ring around her finger as she looked out into the gray of the fog, seeing nothing but a branch standing silent and still just beyond the glass.

“Aine,” said a voice behind her. Aine turned. A woman leaned against the door-frame and sighed. Her dark dress stood out from the pastel floral wallpaper and her feet were bare on the wooden floorboards. One arm was crossed over her chest while her free hand held a cigar. “He’s here,” she said.

“Who?” Aine asked.

“Syl'nyy. He's come for dinner.”

“Oh. Yes.”

Aine smoothed her skirt and rose from her seat. The woman detached herself from the doorframe and walked out of the room. Aine trailed out behind her and into the hallway, following her down the marble staircase that led to the foyer. At the bottom of the stairs, with his back to them, was a Syl'nyy, a tall, slender man with pale hair. He was pulling off his brown leather gloves and he turned as Aine and Renn reached him, a grin spreading across his face. He swept Aine into a hug. “You found her, Renn!”

“It’s been so long,” Aine said wistfully as she pulled away.

“Months,” Syl’nyy agreed. “With everything going on…”

“I’ve hardly seen this one either.” Aine grabbed Renn’s arm. “I’m so glad it’s all over. Well, as good as over. I hope I’ll see more of the both of you.”

“Well,” Syl’nyy said, absent-mindedly twisting the gloves in his hand. “I'm afraid my absence won't end with the war. I’m starting on a new project once the treaty goes into effect. I’ve been asked to put together a team to further study the Alandra. So, I’ll be spending a lot of time there.”

“Oh, I remember when we were working up there. My mother always complained about how much time we spent on ‘that deathtrap’. Of course, she’s always been one to overreact —don’t tell her I said that— really it’s safe. Well, not what we were doing, but she doesn’t have to know that. Oh, I’m babbling. Renn said I do that sometimes. Anyway, make sure you visit us.”

“I will,” Syl’nyy promised. “I’ll probably need your help with some of the data we find, so ditto.”

“Well.” Aine paused and looked up at Renn. “I don’t know how many chances I’ll get to come up, but call me anytime you need.”

“Aine still tinkers with some small old tech down here,” Renn said. “Don’t you darling?”

“Yes, well. Nothing compares to the whole space station that is the Alandra, but I keep in practice.”

“Why don’t we take Syl’nyy up to his room so he can get some rest before dinner?” Renn suggested. “I’m sure he’s tired.”

“Oh, yes.” Aine smiled. “We have you in the back of the house if that’s alright. It’s where you always liked to stay anyway."

Renn led the way up the stairs and into the second story hall.

“So, tomorrow is the big day.” Syl'nyy remarked.

“How do you mean?” Aine asked.

“The party?”

“Oh, yes.” Aine put her hands together. "Renn has told me everything has to be perfect.”

They came to the end of the hall, where a smaller staircase was nestled into a passageway with deep green walls.

“It's the biggest party Aine's ever thrown,” Renn said as they began to climb.

“It's the biggest party ever thrown,” Aine corrected. “At least on the planet. It's a perfect way to celebrate the treaty. There hasn't been an event this big on Laisren since before the war started.”

They arrived at the next floor and ended up in a large, dim hallway. Renn opened the first door to the left and waved Syl’nyy and Aine through.

“Here it is,” Aine said, pulling the velvet curtains open. “I remember when my father had this room remodeled. Remember, Syl’nyy? It used to be blue, pale blue, but my father always preferred red. He liked strong colors. Maybe dark blue is a strong color, but not pale blue. Maybe he should have done dark blue. Then the room would still be blue but strong like he preferred and we already have so much red in the house…” Aine trailed off and looked over.

Syl’nyy was sitting on the bench on the end of the bed, nodding. “Dark blue would be nice.”

“Well.” Renn cleared her throat. “We’ll let you get some rest before dinner.”

“Yes,” Aine agreed. “We usually have it around seven.”

“Half past this evening, Aine,” Renn corrected.

“Really?”

“You insisted on seven thirty so that Syl’nyy had time to rest.”

“I did.” Aine laughed tightly. “Silly me. Planning the party has had me all over, hasn’t it?”

Renn gave a strained smile. “See you at dinner.” She took Aine’s hand and pulled her out of the room. “Can you go check with Margaret on dinner please?”

Aine nodded and made her way down the passage and into the kitchen, dodging a maid as she did so. Inside, a tall woman with graying hair was stirring a saucepan and a young scullery maid was scrubbing dishes, wrist deep in soapy water.

“Margaret?”

“Yes, M’lady?” she turned to look at Aine, still stirring.

“Are we still on track for dinner at seven thirty?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Perfect.” Aine turned to leave.

“Lady Adair?”

“Yes?” Aine stopped and turned.

“Is Master D’loh here?”

“He is, he just arrived.”

“Would you bring him up a pastry before dinner?” she pointed her her chin at a pan of tarts on a cooling rack. “For old times’ sake?”

Aine smiled and wrapped a tart in a cloth napkin. “I’ll have to sneak it past Renn.”

“And the housekeeper.” Margaret winked.

Aine smiled back and took the pastry out of the kitchen and back towards up the three flights of stairs she'd just come down. Just as her hand was about the close around the doorknob to Syl’nyy’s room, she heard her name spoken in a hushed voice. She hesitated, nearly reaching for the door again before stopping herself. She held her breath and hovered in the door frame in silence.

“You weren’t lying when you said she wasn’t doing well,” Syl’nyy said in a low voice. “How did she get so bad so quickly?”

Aine heard a sigh, and then Renn’s voice. “Between her father’s death and the war… We’ve tried so many doctors and medications but nothing seems to work. It’s so bad now I worry about having guests, in case of a…” Renn paused. “An episode.”

“Does she still see...” Syl'nyy paused. “It?”

“Yes. And her meds have lost their effectiveness. I can hardly leave her alone.”

“I can keep an eye on her during the party tomorrow night,” Syl’nyy offered. “Give you a break.”

“Oh please, yes.”

“Maybe…” Syl’nyy paused. “You said she seems centered when she’s working with old tech… Maybe it would be beneficial if… if she came to work with me on the Alandra. She was amazing when we worked there a few years ago. Maybe it’ll do her good. To be back there, to be doing something… I don’t know. Just a thought.”

There was long pause.

“Maybe,” Renn said. “I’d be glad to have some time to myself. Taking care of her has… taken its toll.”

“Why don’t you think about my idea, and get back to me after the party?”

“Yeah,” Renn agreed. “I’d better get downstairs, make sure—”

Hearing that, Aine pulled away from the door and hurried down the stairs, onto the second floor, then down the first. She descended finally to the servant area and dashed for the kitchen.

Margaret looked up, startled, as Aine swept in. “What is is?”

Aine's words caught in her throat and she couldn't unstick them. She set the pastry on the counter as tears stung her eyes. Margaret put down her spoon. “Take care of that for second, will you?” She said to the scullery maid. And then to Aine, “Come over 'ere.”

Once pulled into the safety of the pantry, Aine swept Margaret into a hug and let her tears flow freely, sobbing into her shoulder. Margaret patted her back and her hair gently. “There, there. It's alright. Let it out now.”

Aine pulled away, wiping uselessly at the tears flowing down her cheeks. “I can't do this,” she said, sucking in a shaky breath. “I can't. I can't.”

“Oh, Aine.” Margaret put a hand on her shoulder. “You just have to get through the party.”

“Then what, Margaret? I don't know if I can go on like this.” Aine covered her face with hands and a sob shook her.

“You are strong. You can do it.”

“I'm not.” Aine's voice was muffled by her fingers.

“I remember when you were a little-un.” Margaret gently pulled Aine's hands from her face. “You were stubborn as sin and so brave. I remember all those times you'd stick up for poor, shy Syl'nyy.”

“I'm not that little girl anymore,” Aine whispered. She met Margaret's eyes. “I don't know what happened to her.”

“These are hard times.” Margaret smiled and squeezed Aine hands. “You'll find her again. Take it a day at a time.”

Aine nodded and wiped her tears. “I've such a headache," she said quietly. “Could I have a painkiller?”

Margaret nodded and left Aine alone in the pantry. Aine heard Renn call her name from the stairs that led to the ground floor.

“I'm coming!” she called, rubbing her temple. She pushed through the pantry door and back into the kitchen, where Renn was waiting. She took Aine by the arm and led her up the stairs onto the ground floor. As they walked, she leaned over and whispered into Aine’s ear. “I need you to have some composure. Especially tomorrow. Just, smile. Smile and try not to talk too much. Can you do that?”

Aine nodded.

Renn let go of her as they reached the top of the stairs. “Good.”