If Wishes Were Fishes Page 8

  Slowly, Keith shifted the rope, beginning to wiggle it against the barb of the hook. "I'll get you out of here."

  "I know you want to try. Thank you," Fish said. "Hey, it's not your duty though, okay? If it doesn't work, if things go bad, you get yourself out safe. I don't want to be trapped inside my own vessel, and I hate that it's not allowed to be mine anymore! But sometimes, people go through that, you know? That's just how it is sometimes."

  "You've got a right to live your own life as you," Keith said firmly, thinking back to the things the old man had said.

  "I mean, yeah, I've been trying. But if this is what he needed—"

  Keith was managing to get a bit of fray on the rope now. He sought desperately for something to say that would encourage Fish to help free himself. He wasn't sure that just untying him would do it. "Sometimes… sometimes people are lonely, yeah. And sometimes you can do things for them. But you can't do the things other people want forever, and it shouldn't come at the cost of your own freedom or happiness. You have to decide—"

  He thought about Shaunee, who shouldn't know about ghosts. About his own family, who he was keeping at arm's length. About two people trusting him with the person they loved, and two more waiting for him to accept their help to get out if he needed to.

  Suddenly furious, more at himself than anything else, Keith rubbed the rope against the hook's barb harder; let the curse break on its own false premise. "You have to decide what you're willing to do for others. You can't let it be decided for you! And if someone tries to make that happen, that's not someone you can help at all."

  Behind him, there was a crash, something huge landing in the room via the trap door.

  Keith froze.

  "There was no phone," Hemingway bellowed, his voice deep. He seemed massive now, filling the space behind Keith. "No connections, no escape, no way out of this place."

  He had to keep moving. There was no time left. He began sawing at the rope again, faster and harder, breath rough with fear.

  "You lied! You took advantage of my trust! And now you're trying to take my boy!"

  The rope gave, snapping hard enough that Keith was flung away by the force. Fish came tumbling down, rolling in the air as the rope unwound from around him.

  "Don't leave me again!" Hemingway wailed at Fish. The gutting knife he was carrying was huge now, dragging on the floor. Hemingway's arms were too long, bent all wrong

  Fish began to rise from the ground, shedding dry fish skin and scales everywhere as the wrappings he'd been tied up in came apart. "You don't get to decide that for me," he said softly, nearly tender. "I'll decide who I stay with, and I'll decide who I devote myself to. Keith?"

  Keith jerked his head up. "Yeah?" he squeaked

  Torn-off scales were catching the dim light from the trap door above, surrounding Fish in a haze of glitter. Fish turned his face slightly and Keith saw a bright, dangerous smile there, full of hundreds of needle-sharp teeth.

  "Go home," Fish said. "I just need to take a moment to kill this guilt of mine. Okay?"

  Keith nearly protested. He'd come here to help, he should see it to the end—

  But this was personal. It wasn't his business. Fish had told him to go, and if he stayed, Fish might feel obliged to protect him instead of doing what he needed to do.

  He didn't intend to trap Fish himself, either.

  For a moment longer, he just watched Fish's glittery, terrifyingly dangerous form, facing down the distorted figure of Hemingway, his knife lifting into the air, ready to strike Fish down.

  It was time. Keith took hold of the twine, that lifeline to his lovers, and tugged.

  Take me home, he pleaded silently, and the world went black as he watched Fish lunge under Hemmingway's knife.

  chapter ten

  Keith woke up in warmth and security, and knew at once from the sent of wet leaves and the familiarity of the setting that he was home. For a moment, nothing else mattered: not what he'd just done, not what might yet happen. He was home, and Hiraeth was holding him tightly, and Lucas was right there. He'd trusted them, and they were here for him.

  And then, suddenly, glass was shattering, the others were screaming and, over it all, there was a loud whoop of delight.

  "Uh," he said into Hiraeth's shoulder.

  Hiraeth's fingers rubbed at the base of his skull. "It's fine, it's fine. Oh, he's certainly naked."

  "No, seriously, what's happening…!" Keith pulled away, glancing over his shoulder.

  The shattering sound had been the fishbowl, and the man to come out of it was, indeed, very naked. He was extremely tall, slender to the point of willowy, and with many long, rainbow-colored fins cascading down from his head in the place of hair. His entire body seemed to have a faint rainbow-like sheen to it, iridescent and beautiful.

  "Hey!" Fish said in delight, and flung himself bodily onto Avi and Pertu. They scooped him up, enveloping him in a hug, laughing and crying a little, dancing around while Hiraeth casually withdrew from Keith, reaching over to the kitchenette and grabbing his dustpan, starting to sweep up the glass from the broken fishbowl before they could step in it.

  Lucas slid out of Hiraeth while they were all busy, sinking down next to Keith as they watched the reunion together. "You okay?" he asked, soft.

  "I'm good," Keith said, tilting his head toward him. "Knowing you guys were there to catch me helped a lot with a pretty scary situation."

  That made Lucas grin, his entire expression brightening. "Yeah? I'm glad. It did kind of feel like we were doing something. We could feel you not… here? But we could feel you. And just… all we had to do was keep in mind we could bring you back to us, where you belong."

  Avi was bawling now, clinging onto Fish and crying hard enough that the seizing force of his body was causing flower petals to rain down around the three of them.

  Keith smiled, watching that. "…I felt that way. It wasn't like last time, when I felt so alone. I felt… protected."

  "Sap," Lucas said, smiling.

  Laughing, Pertu peeled her way out of the hug, brushing petals off her shoulders. "Hiraeth, do you have any spare underwear I can toss the big guy in? We might have to go out to get more clothes but… I mean, you know."

  Hiraeth hmmm'd. "I have some of Keith's—" he began, playfully.

  Keith huffed. "How much of my underwear have you stolen?!"

  "Some of mine will do just fine, though," Hiraeth said.

  "That's great," she said. She turned, grinning, the tip of her tongue poking out of her teeth, to face Keith. "Thanks."

  "N-no, it's—"

  "But," she added, "do you mind giving the family a couple minutes? Not long, just…" She gestured between herself, the sobbing Avi, Hiraeth and Fish.

  It should have been awkward, being the one to save him and then being asked to leave the room. Even an hour ago, he thought he would have felt excluded, like an outsider.

  But no. They just needed this moment to spend with each other. He understood.

  "You got it," Keith said. He got up, offering a hand to Lucas as if he really could help him to his feet. Lucas rose without it, but stayed close as they headed down the stairs to the closed-up shop room below.

  It was quiet down here, dark and peaceful, and Keith relished it. As wonderful as it was to succeed, to help Fish get back to his usual self, mindwalking had so many ways it could go wrong.

  "You look tired," Lucas said.

  Keith nodded. "It's not easy to do," he admitted. "I'm exhausted, and there was just so much. I feel… overstimulated, I guess, it's just a lot to take in. I could really use some quiet time."

  "…I don't think you'll get it," Lucas warned, glancing back the way they'd come.

  Keith heard it too: footsteps on the stairs. He raised his head, about to greet Hiraeth—

  But it wasn't Hiraeth. Avi was there, shoulders hunched, face blotchy with tears. He sniffled, rubbing his eyes with the heel of a hand. "Hey," h
e said.

  "Uh, everything okay?" Keith asked, taken aback. "He's fine, right? He didn't go right back to it?"

  "What—no, nothing like that." Avi shoved his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunching even further as if he could hide inside himself. "I… I wanted to talk to you."

  Keith tried to steel himself, leaning a little into Lucas's cool presence for courage. "Sure. Of course. What is it?"

  "…Thanks. For getting Magari back."

  "Magari—Fish? I mean, of course. I'm glad I could," Keith said, a bit startled. He picked at the side hem of his thankfully-dry jeans with his fingernails. "None of you deserved that and… I mean. I think F—Magari deserves a chance to… to live his own life. Surrounded by the people he chooses and… and in the form he chooses. Not to be locked inside himself like that, so…"

  "Yeah, I mean, obviously, but…" Avi bit down on his lower lip, worrying at it with flat teeth, then sighed. "You're actually an okay guy."

  "Uh, thanks?" Keith said, taken aback.

  Avi stomped over and hopped up onto the counter, crossing his legs and frowning at Keith. His eyes were still wet, his lips trembling. "No, I mean, I guess that was obvious from the start, I was just… I was a dick."

  "Kinda, yeah," Lucas said, in a but-that's-none-of-my-business tone

  Grimacing, Avi shrugged. "It's just, humans don't live long at all. Dad might fall in love easily but he… really feels things hard, all the time. He's seen some shit… well, we all have. Everyone does if you live long enough and… I mean, sometimes even if you don't. But dad's like Magari. He lives through tough times and resolves to love harder, to trust more, but the hurt's still there. You know? And humans… they live hard and fast. I thought… maybe, dad'd fall in love with someone else again and you'd get jealous and break his heart. Or, worse—"

  "Worse?" Keith prompted mildly, when Avi didn't continue, too tired for anxiety now.

  "What if you have a good, long relationship together? What if you become such an integral part of his life that he can't imagine spending any of it without you? And then…" Avi's gaze shifted from Keith's face to Lucas's. "Then you die. You leave him even lonelier than before. Almost all human souls move on immediately, not end up ghosts like Lucas. And even if Lucas is in a relationship with dad too, you're his tether. Either you die and Lucas moves on, or you die and Lucas loses himself."

  Keith drew closer to Lucas, that old fear welling in him and choking any response he could make. He'd come so close to losing Lucas once already.

  Lucas reached out like he could pull Keith in with his insubstantial arms, his brows furrowed, his expression tight and abruptly miserable. His features faded in and out of sight, as if shadows were crawling over them, and his voice was shaky, even desperate as he tried to find an answer. "I mean, we can't plan on that—things are already weird with us both, so who knows what will happen—"

  "No," Keith said, hoarsely. He pressed his hand into, through, Lucas's. "It's still true. It's a real concern. We're going to leave him alone someday…"

  Would it be better to leave him now? While things were still new? Keith hated the thought; he loved Hiraeth already, just like he loved Lucas. He wanted to be with Hiraeth, share the rest of his life with Hiraeth—but was that an unfair thought? If Hiraeth felt the same way, but had so much more 'rest of his life' to live without Keith …

  Avi braced his arms behind himself on the edge of the counter, shoulders raised, head down. "Yeah, you will," he said, a strange resignation heavy in his voice. And then he drew a deep breath and sighed, raising his head, looking between Lucas and Keith again. "But humans live in the here and now, right? Like Lucas said, you can't really plan for how things will end. A lot of Others find dad flighty, you know? Too human-like. Because he does his best to live in the moment, enjoy things now while he has them, instead of thinking long term. And maybe that's a good thing."

  Keith felt almost dizzy with how abruptly his thoughts were forcibly yanked out of the dark rut he'd begun to find them in. "Is it?"

  "Maybe we're just lying to ourselves," Avi said, "by thinking we could plan. I mean, none of us thought that Magari would end up cursed. We didn't even know what had caused it. So… maybe you all have the right idea. Anyway…" He pushed off the counter, landing on his feet and walking up to Keith to glower in his face. "I guess you have our blessing, but if you do break his heart, I'll find you and make you sorry. Even if you're dead at the time."

  Keith wheezed. "Cool. That's… that's a cool thing to say."

  Avi stared at him for a moment—then, abruptly, laughed. It brightened his face entirely, and suddenly, the resemblance to Hiraeth was undeniable.

  He held out a hand, tilted it slightly, and waited until Keith took it.

  "My name's Sciamachy," he said, still smiling, his eyes reddened and wet. "It's the one I use among Others, but I guess you're basically one of us now."

  "Oh," Keith said weakly. He stared at Avi—at Sciamachy—moved and confused, still in an emotional whirlwind.

  "You…" Lucas began, tentative, voice scratchy with unshed tears. Keith was reminded abruptly of how insecure Lucas had been about getting to develop his own relationship with Hiraeth. "Is it really all right?"

  Sciamachy shrugged. "What's all right is up to you guys, not me. You're into some weird shit, after all. Come upstairs," he added before either of them could react to that. "We'll order dinner. I bet Magari's hungry after only getting to eat stupid fucking fish food all this time."

  ***

  Hiraeth's studio apartment was small to begin with. It was made even smaller by cramming six people into it, even if one of them couldn't eat. Keith sat with Lucas on one side and Magari on the other, at Magari's insistence.

  "I spent all that time watching you try to help me," he'd said. "And I hadn't expected to come out of this with a new friend? But it's really rad that I did."

  What could Keith say to that? He shuffled over awkwardly. "T-thanks."

  It did mean that Keith didn't get to sit next to Hiraeth, but Hiraeth didn't seem to mind. He sat between his son and Pertu, one leg stretched out casually so his toes rested a little way into Lucas's leg, and caught Keith's eye to give him a smile.

  Keith smiled back, then looked around again at everyone. There was no sign on Magari's face of the frightening, sharp-edged smile that Keith had seen in his mindscape, just bright, silly grins that Sciamachy teased him for and Pertu returned with growing soppiness.

  And it was fine, anyway, Keith decided, if Magari could be dangerous. Maybe, if you were the sort who wanted to please others, it was important to be able to be dangerous when you needed to be. It certainly wasn't dampening Keith's feelings of warmth, of belonging, of feeling like somehow this group that had kept him on the outside had suddenly welcomed him in—

  "Oh come on! Your plan started and ended with murder. You had no idea of what to do next when that didn't work!"

  "Oh, like you did?! You're the one who didn't want to try anything risky, you just went running to daddy—" Abruptly, Pertu and Sciamachy's quiet conversation turned into shouting at each other over Hiraeth's head, fierce and surprisingly loud.

  Keith froze, his adrenaline spiking, and glanced at the others helplessly. Hiraeth didn't seem to feel that anything was particularly amiss, nonchalantly ducking out from the line of fire and squirming over to sit with Lucas, who looked back at Keith and shrugged, equally lost.

  Magari tugged his sleeve, and Keith glanced over at him. He wasn't sure how much of his alarm showed on his face, but Magari grinned at him sweetly and ducked down toward him.

  "They're always like this," Magari murmured. "They fight and make up and fight and make up. They're not actually mad when they argue and don't actually need to soothe each other after, it's just a hobby of theirs. It took me a while to realize it wasn't broken and I didn't have to fix it."

  Keith felt himself relax a little at that. "I didn't realize. They disagreed with each other a lot
about what to do when we were trying to help you, but they didn't… shout."

  "For them, shouting means it isn't serious," Magari said. "They were too worried about me, you know."

  "They love you."

  Magari's cheeks took on a pale blue coloration—maybe his version of a blush. "They do," he agreed. "Ahh, even now I want to downplay it! But they love me and I love them, and they never need me to do anything for them that takes away from me."

  Keith thought about what he'd seen in that beach cabin. Even knowing it was metaphor… "Was it hard to get used to?"

  "Their arguing…?"

  "No," Keith said. He glanced at them; the argument seemed to be winding down, Avi's voice having dropped to a sulky whine while Pertu hissed at him from between her teeth. "The idea that you could just make your own choices about what to do, and however they reacted to it was on them."

  Magari tilted his head, looking at Keith thoughtfully with those placid, wide eyes of his. He said, "Ahh, yeah. You're a fixer too. And I'm grateful for it, since you helped me, but it's hard, right?"

  Keith almost apologized, but was at least self-aware enough to know that was entirely contradictory to what they were talking about. "…It can be, yeah."

  "Yeah. It was hard," Magari said. "But… you're the one thinking your thoughts. You're the one feeling your emotions. You're the one who wakes up in your own skin every day. So you're the one who gets to decide what makes all of those things the best experience for you."

  It was hard not to argue that. He had empathy; he felt other people's feelings. If his powers kept growing, he might hear their thoughts. He ended up in other people's skins far too often. But…

  It didn't have to be literal. It was a metaphor, and he agreed with it. "That simply, huh?"

  "Well, it's not simple, yeah? It's not. But," Magari said, "even if you fall back now and then, or make mistakes, or get stuck in your own head, you get to keep making those decisions for the rest of your life."

  "—What're you talking about?" Sciamachy asked him, frowning. His nosiness seemed to have distracted him from picking any further fights with Pertu. "Something about your life?"