It seemed Loren Brae had its own secrets, just like I did.
“And I see you, wee one. Do you have a name?” I asked, happiness lighting me up. I’d finally found my familiar.
“Gloam.”
“Gloam. As in the gloaming?” I tilted my head to study his eyes—the color of whisky in firelight—and to examine his golden russet coat for any further injuries. The gloaming was a time of day in Scotland when the day shifted to nightand gilded light brushed across the land. The fox resembled this light, and I could picture him shimmering through the twilight as he slipped through the forest.
“Aye. It’s nice to finally meet you, Faelan.”
“Och, so youaremine.” I lifted a hand and waited until Gloam bobbed his head once, before reaching over to scratch behind his ears. “I must say, Gloam, you’re an exceptionally handsome fellow.”
“I know.”
Gloam’s eyes slitted closed, and his mouth opened in a smile as I continued to scratch. I chuckled at his words. I could hear him perfectly in my mind, as though I had my Sony Earbuds in, and his voice sounded like he was permanently amused.
“Cocky as a wee dug with two tails, are ye now?” I laughed as Gloam opened his mouth and made a soft huffing sound, like he was chuckling at me, and I ran my hands over his sides. “Is there any other place you’re sore, my wee friend? I’m worried for you.”
“It’s just my leg. A trap.”
“Oh no.” I sighed. He’d been lucky with just the broken bone then. Traps could also rip through ligaments or tear flesh, so I was pleased he’d only snuck away with a break. Nevertheless, I wanted to keep him close for monitoring. Today was Sunday, and I hadn’t planned to open the clinic today, because I needed at least one day to actually settle into my flat upstairs, as well as make some sense of the office. Still, being interrupted by an emergency call wasn’t uncommon, and it would seem odd to anyone stopping by to spot a fox on my desk. “That’s such a shame, Gloam. That must have been quite scary. I’m glad you managed toget yourself here for help. Listen, I had planned to organize down here, but I’m worried someone may see you. Want to come upstairs with me and I’ll unpack a bit and you can have a wee rest while I do so? I just want to make sure you’re in tip-top shape before you go back outside.”
“I’m quite tired. I could use the rest.”
“I don’t blame you. We’ll get you sorted out.” I scooped him up, and he burrowed into my arms, resting his head on my shoulder. For a moment, I just held him, shocked at the realization of just how much I needed a hug. Likely from a human, but this one still filled me with an overwhelming sense of comfort. His fur was so soft, it was like cuddling a real-life stuffed animal. Some of the tension I’d carried with me since moving here eased as I locked up and headed to the flat. Nudging the door open with my shoulder, I carried Gloam inside my new home.Ournew home, I supposed, if the fox wanted to stay here with me. From what I knew about familiars, they liked to choose their domain.
The flat wasn’t much, a simple one-bedroom, with the main door opening to a galley kitchen and lounge area and a second door that led to a bedroom with an en suite bathroom. But it had a cozy couch, and two large windows that overlooked the stunning waters of Loch Mirren. Already I could see myself curled up by those windows, watching the light play across the water, while reading my favorite romantasy novels with candles lit. I didn’t need much, as I was used to moving, but still I liked to make each new spot my home in my own way. I paused as I realized that this time, my stay would be different. I owned the place and could decorate how I wished. The thought intrigued me, as I’d been so good about not acquiring anything that Icouldn’t pack up and easily leave with. Looking around, I realized just how sparse it was in here.
The apartment had come furnished with a simple loveseat, a small table with two chairs, a bed, and a chest of drawers. Both rooms had small closets, as well, but I’d yet to do much digging. Now, I carried Gloam to the couch and settled him gently on the soft cushions.
“How’s that? Comfy?”
“Aye, that’ll do me just fine.”
“That’s grand then. I’ll just try to make sense of my life here, while you rest. Then we can have ourselves a wee chat, all right?”
Gloam just closed his eyes, and I took that as agreement. I had about a million questions for my wee familiar, but since I had no idea just how long he’d been injured, it was more important that he rest for now and regain his strength. Humming softly to myself, I crossed the room and put the kettle on and then moved to the first box in the middle of the floor.
Pausing, I brought a hand to my heart and took a deep breath, and then another. Focusing on a spot outside the window, I forced Gloam’s pain from my body and exhaled a smokey dark cloud that writhed in the air before disappearing out the window. Healing always taxed me, though I’d grown strong with it over the years, but I always needed to expel the pain I took in. I’d need to gulp about a pot of my rejuvenating tea before I’d feel normal again.
Picking up the scissors, I slit the tape on the top box. Two suitcases and four boxes. The entirety of my personal and professional belongings. At least it made it easy to move on, as I’d done over a dozen times in the last seven years. I’dforced myself to be sentimental over very few things in my life, and as I slit the first box open, my gaze moved to one of those items.
A framed photo of me and my mother, Eriska, taken about ten years ago. We sat on the grass, a field of wildflowers haloing our heads, a picnic spread before us. It had been a rare day of sunshine and laughter, neither of us talking of tomorrows, both knowing fate was unavoidable. She’d always been destined to leave me, as it was written in the stars. Or so she’d told me again and again, preparing me for the day she’d known was coming since she’d had a vision when I was just four years old.
It would have been easier if it had been an illness to take her, as maybe I would have been able to help—to do something,anythingat all—but instead it had been a patch of black ice and an elderly driver that had ended her life. And even though she’d prepared me for it, promising me our time together was short, her absence took up more space than her presence had.
The kettle clicked off, shaking me from my despondency, and I stood with the picture in hand. Moving across the room, I put the frame on the windowsill, where I could see it and speak to her when I looked out over the loch.
Gloam shifted, letting out a soft laughing sound in his sleep, and I pressed my lips together. I’d never had a pet before, though I’d taken in plenty of strays and nursed them back to health. I’d never wanted to get too attached, since I’d always known that the things you loved got taken from you.
It made moving on easier.
And letting go almost impossible.
A sharp hammering of knocks startled me, and Gloam popped awake with a startled yip. A doorbell rang somewhere in the flat, connected to the vet’s office below, and I moved to the window to peer down at the front door of the clinic.
A man stood there, cradling a dog, his shirt covered in blood, his face ravaged with grief.
So much for my day off.
