Trust the Shade

“Huh. I did… didn’t I? Shit.” I reviewed the discordant, smudged, whacky memories swimming in the back of my mind.

“Think about it!” Shady added. “If you’ve managed to make yourself move at seventy miles per hour to chase me down as a nine-year-old kid, you can assuredly… push me down and punish me as you desire, Ashy. Come on, give me some of that cute aggression.”

I squeezed her wrists harder and Shady let out a small whimper, dropping the loofah.

“Wishes upon Wendigos are real then?” I asked.

“Very real,” she let out, panting, the tight shower wobbling ever so slightly, the lightbulbs flickering like sputtering candles.

“Could I wish to be all powerful, vanish the Frontenachii Fleet, make myself into the… genuine Emperor of Mankind? Punch warships out of the sky, move faster than humanly possible outside of Darkfall?”

“No,” she stated. “I think that the Netherweave Fold is an incredibly personal thing that only works in places of higher aetheric density. It involves… Love between two best friends bound by blood and soul… a mental link between you and me. Resonance between two fully open hearts. If it was something that could magically and instantly break the rules of everything everywhere, then my insane, selfish Elders would assuredly succeed at harnessing its power. I think that the more personal a wish is, the more it targets me and you, the better it works.”

“Oh you think so?”

“I do. We should…”

“Experiment on it?” I filled in.

“Yes,” Shady stated, “Since I’ve arrived on Earth, I’ve been digging things in the wrong direction. I forgot the most important thing that made it all work between us… Trust.”

“Yes, some trust would be nice,” I agreed, releasing her wrists.

“We should… rebuild the trust bridge between us,” Shady wiggled her wet breasts against me, sliding lower. “Make it bigger, stronger, indestructible… like it used to be.”

“Uh-huh.” Most of my attention was preoccupied by her curves pressing against me being splashed by hot shower water.

“What would you wish for, Ashy?” She asked, looking up at me.

“To beat the Frontenachii.”

“What did I just say?” She asked. “It has to be… personal… about us. Between us. Me and you. No Frontenachii.”

“Fine. Then… I wish to remember us.” I considered it. “Every moment that’s been worn down by antipsychotics meds and time… and to make new memories too… maybe to rewind time to the moment you vanished from my life and not have to suffer for thirteen years taking pills, being judged by my parents, therapist and peers for being a batshit insane boy.”

“Agreed,” Shady slid even lower. “I too wish to carve out a moment in time just for us. To grow up with you… to not have to deal with my Wendigo Elders or my Black Shuck dad and my pompous Omnithornian friends… to get away from what I did as a Deathseeker. To reach a point in our lives where I can scare you without scaring you, to… always make you smile.”

Shady pressed tight against me under the warm spray, her body pinning my back to the cold tile as water pounded steadily across her broad, sparkling shoulders and ran in rivulets down her soaked mane. She slid both palms slowly down my ribs, blade-claws rapidly blunting so they felt only like firm warm pressure points gliding over skin.

She dipped her head and then a silver-blue tongue flicked once across my belly. Then another lick lower, the tongue texture softening and transitioning to indigo. By the third lick the excessively long tongue became dark red.

I felt like things were rapidly going to escalate into shower lewdness, but then she suddenly pulled away. I looked down at her.

“I want you,” she whispered. “I want you so bad… but no.”

“No?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Again, this… Is me pushing things, getting what I want right now as the dominant Prima. And while that’s nice and all… I’m pretty sure that such would dissipate the desired effect. When we had sex, reality slid sideways, but this didn’t accomplish much in terms of usefullness… except for making me feel nice. I want niceness for both of us, not just me. I want to… build up the Netherweave Fold to its crescendo. To tease you and have you tease me as much as possible, all day long… until neither of us can stop. Until reality breaks… hard… for both of us. Until our… combined wish comes true.”

“Aight.” I agreed. “Out of the shower then. Shoo. Quit teasing me with your massive… antlers.”

Shady chortled.

“I brought your clothes n’ stuff… it’s in your backpack in the corner.” She gave my chest one last proprietary pat, then squeezed herself backward out of the shower stall with the grace of a seven-foot cryptid extracting herself from a phone booth. Her antlers did the jelly-phase thing again to clear the doorframe, and she vanished into the loft, leaving a trail of wet clawed footprints on the tiles.

I stood under the spray for a solid minute, letting my pulse return to its relaxed baseline. Then I washed whatever Shady missed.

“Toothbrush,” I muttered to myself. “Toothbrush… clothes, sanity. In approximately ascending order of difficulty.”

Emerging from the shower, I spotted my college backpack crammed into the corner. It contained my toothbrush, deodorant, a fresh pair of jeans, socks, boxers, and a plain gray henley. Shady had also packed my backup phone charger and… a single granola bar with a large bite taken out of it.

Ah. Classic Shady tax.

I brushed my teeth, toweled off, used the toilet, dressed in my old clothes plus the Sage-made meme shirt and emerged from the bathroom looking and smelling like a functional adult.

Shady was sitting cross-legged on the floor-mattress, tail swaying in a slow metronome. She already dried herself and her outfit through some Wendigo thermodynamics I wasn’t going to question.

She stood up from the bed and arched her back and neck to level her dark skull-head with my eyes.

“Ashy.”

“Yeah?”

“You owe me a collar, you butt.”

“A… collar?”

“A nice one. Black leather. Silver buckle. Maybe some studs. Nothing tacky.”

“Like from… Hot Topic?”

“No, from a pet store.” She grinned.

“You want me to collar you too while we’re there?”

“Yes.”

“In public.”

“Obviously. Preferably with a cute cashier watching so I can enjoy you sweating through the transaction.”

“A dog collar?”

“A fashion choker,” she corrected. “You gave Nexxali one. I want one too. Purchased by your hands with your money as a statement of romantic intent!”

“Ah… right,” I dimly recalled promising her such sometime recently in between my insane moon-nuking shenanigans as the Emperor of Earth. “Yeah, sure.”

“Good boy.” She licked my face again. I wiped Wendigo spit off my cheek. She did a small, excited hop, antlers bobbing, tail doing a happy swish.

Galateya appeared from a walk-in closet in her ridiculous outfit with the resigned composure of a diplomat wearing a novelty hat at a state dinner. Sage trailed behind her in the full motorcycle leather suit, helmet tucked under one arm, visor tinted dark enough to be illegal in most states.

“Ash.” Galateya addressed me. “Are you going to be okay alone with her all day?”

“I don’t see why not. We’re… sorting things out,” I said.

“From what you told me, the last time you two ‘sorted things out,’ she threw you into a lake,” Galateya added.

“I… wasn’t in a fully-me mindset at that time,” Shady stated, blushing with silver-violet-blue stars dancing on her cheeks.

“Hrmph.” The dragon exhaled a small plume of frost. “If she throws you into anything…”

“There will be no throwing,” Shady insisted. “I’ll be nice to my Ashy, promise.”

Galateya stared at Shady, possibly using her Truth-sensing powers and then relaxed. “Very well. You seem to be honest about that at least.”

Sage saluted us with a gloved hand. “Good luck on your date, Emperor McMuffin! Don’t let her eat you! At least not before lunch!”

“OUT we go,” Galateya commanded, steering the helmeted Skinwalker toward the stairwell.

She then stopped in front of me and offered me a tight, warm hug, then a kiss on the cheek. Then she released me, sending Shady a draconic warning look.

“Have fun, you two sexy punks.” Nexxali giggled, smooched Shady, then smooched me, tickling my cheeks with gold whiskers and padded after Galateya and Sage.

Sage manifested in front of me with a flash of fiery red hair and kissed me fiercely, making my head spin. She shoved my car keys into my hand and then vanished just as rapidly.

I looked at Shady as the trio went down the stairwell.

“Hey,” I said. “Is she… No, are you going to be okay without Nexy? She’s been your mental anchor since she reconnected your brain.”

Shady tilted her head, reached up, and parted the dark feathers along the left side of her skull. A small, dark neural interface band blinked underneath, faintly pulsing blue against the black fuzz.

“Kawthy made us matching brain-tethers,” she said. “I can feel her humming right now extra-excitedly about the exploration of human-shops.”

“So you two have brain-texting now.”

“Basically. She’s currently sending me the serval equivalent of a thumbs-up emoji and a cozy purr-hug.”

“I see.”

We descended through the old cafe, past the bookshelves and the unoccupied counter. Books and Nooks was empty at this early hour, chairs upturned on tables. The morning light cut through the Art Nouveau stained glass windows in dusty golden shafts.

Shady and I stepped out into the fresh, chilly morning fog clinging to the Pacific coast like wet cotton.

My red jeep stood in front of the cafe where Sage had parked it slightly crookedly. The cracked tail light was held together with packing tape, and a bumper sticker I had slapped on at some point last year read “HONK IF YOU’VE BEEN ABDUCTED.”

Shady squeezed herself into the passenger seat. Her antlers pressed against the ceiling and then phased through the roof, protruding from the top of the car like a novelty hood ornament.

“You could, you know, phase those all the way in.” I commented, getting into the car.

“Eh. They need fresh air.”

I started the engine. The jeep coughed, shuddered, and complied.

“Where would you like to go?” I asked.

“Mmmm… Pick a nice place for breakfast that allows dogs.”

“Aight. The beach it is.” I said.

We pulled out of Cascade downtown. Pine trees crowded the road on both sides, morning mist hanging in the canopy. Shady rolled down the window and stuck her muzzle out like a dog, black feathers fluttering in the breeze, eyes closed.

I glanced at the Wendigo princess. Her resting-bitch-teeth-grin felt… almost serene, the jagged edge of boss energy somewhat muted.

“Hey,” I said. “Tell me about you.”

“You know about me.”

“I know about Princess Aquillianne Quantivia Frontenachii, fugitive Wendigo royalty, Deathseeker dropout, etcetera. I’m asking about Shady. The kid I built cardboard forts with. You know… Honest stuff. No made-up nonsense.”

Her silver eyes cracked open. “Made-up nonsense is fun, though. Remember when I told you I was the exiled queen of a mushroom kingdom and you believed me for three days?”

“I was seven.”

“You built a mushroom throne out of cardboard and papier-mache. It was adorable.”

“Shady.”

“Fiiiiine.” She pulled her head back inside the car, tucked her legs up onto the seat in a position a chiropractor would file assault charges over. “You want the honest stuff.”

“Yeah.”

“How about a deal then?”

“What kind of a deal?”