Chapter 11
The clotheshe’d found for me are too big, but not big enough to be his. I wonder if they belonged to members of his crew, but the white fur cloak seems to be made from the beast that tried to eat me. The tan leather pants are warm and soft, though I roll up the legs twice. The beige tunic is knitted from a fine wool and hangs to mid-thigh, the neck is a plunging V. Without a bra on I feel bold…but also like I belong in this odd city where the ghosts rule over the living.
“Whose clothes are these?” I pull new socks on, also wool. I’m warm, properly warm in what feels like forever. Being warm in bed and warm in a bath is very different to being warm while walking around and getting on with life. I put on my old soft soled boots, even though they aren’t suitable for hiking around a mountain, they’ll be fine while inside the mountain city.
I remember fairy tales my grandmother told about trolls that live in mountains, but Indiz is no troll, and I find it hard to believe that any troll could create such beauty.
“They were already here.”
“And the ones you’re wearing?” The pants had to have been made for him. They fit him too well.
He nods, but I sense that there is something he isn’t telling me.
“It’s like this city is waiting for the people to come back.” We’re interlopers at best.
“Are you not happy? Do you want another?” There’s a look on his face that I can’t work out. I’m not sure if it’s annoyance or disappointment.
I tilt my head and study him. “I don’t want anyone else, not that it would matter if I did because there’s no one here.”
And if I was here for the rest of my life, I’d never have to worry about dating again.
His lips thin to a line. The desire that had existed is gone.
I take a breath and speak softly. “Why is it okay for you to go exploring and find me clothes—for which I am grateful—but I can’t?”
“Because that is the rule.”
“Whose rule? There’s no one here.”
“Nobody here,” he corrects.
I blink and stare at him. We’re back to this, where he won’t tell me more. I close my eyes, but heat blooms on my cheeks at the idea of the ghosts watching us in the bath. But I have seen no signs of anyone, or anybody here.
“Why do I have to follow the rules of your imaginary friends,” I mutter under my breath.
Indiz grabs my arm. “They are not imaginary.” It’s fear I see in his eyes. Whatever or whoever is here scares him and if they scare him then I should be too. He releases my arm. “Put on the fur and I will show you around. So you can learn where it is safe to explore.”
“Have you met the people who live here?”
Indiz glances around as though looking for something or someone. “Yes. But I cannot say more. Please understand.”
But I don’t understand anything. I have more questions. I don’t mind following rules if they serve a purpose. Wear the harness in case something goes wrong. Keep the knife in your boot. Don’t fuck aliens.
The last I didn’t understand why it was important, now I do: aliens give good head.
How can I go back to a human lover now?
Indiz leads me out of his room, leaving the wet towels spread by the fire, and up endless flights of stairs. He points out common rooms and balconies where the view can be admired. Every so often I’ll glimpse a light in the darkness. As we climb higher, I press myself to the wall. I don’t walk confidently near the edge like him. I’m breathing hard by the time we reach the top. I didn’t need to go all the way up, but now I’m here the rocks seem almost translucent. Sunlight streams in through the opening and bounces off the stone so everything gleams. There’s no railing on the bridge that he walks out on.
There are no railings at all. One slip and I’m dead.
I keep my back to the wall, because for all the dazzling beauty I’m afraid of tripping to my death.
He holds out his hand. “I used to be afraid of falling too.”
Has he been here too long? What if he jumps while holding my hand?
I glance down. It will be instant, though there are a few bridges to hit on the way to the ground. “Why aren’t you afraid now?”
