“For me, every book is an individual with its own identity and has to be nurtured and taken care of, so that it may survive for a longer period.”

― Anurag Shourie, Half a Shadow

“…do with her?”

“…same as Jo…”

“…lost your minds…”

“…wake her?”

“Faelan said not to. She will wake when she is ready.”

“Perhaps she is awaiting a kiss to wake her…”

“…honestly…”

I opened my eyes, having floated near the edge of consciousness several times before finally escaping the grasp of exhaustion. I blinked and looked around. I was in my old bedroom in ‘House of Figs’. Perhaps I hadn’t woken up at all? Maybe I was still asleep…

“Aunt Jo?” I called softly to the silhouette at the window.

It turned and gazed at me.

“I am pleased you are awake.” I clutched at the covers as Rob’s voice reached me. “Query, how do you feel?” My heart began to beat rather quickly. “Please, do not return to that state of alarm. I will go if that is what is required.” He walked to the door. “I merely wanted to watch over you. There is a warm drink on your bedside. Please, do not push yourself.”

He closed the door behind him.

After a few minutes, my heart returned to a normal beat.

“So…not a dream.” I whispered, sitting up. I couldn’t recall what had happened between passing out downstairs and being placed in the bed. Just a few fragments of conversation that had entered my subconscious were all that remained. I put my fingers to my lips, wondering if the werewolf had indeed had the brazen gall to kiss me but if he had, I couldn’t tell. “Charismatic pervert.” I murmured and looked to the bedside. The drink was perfectly drinkable and my throat was parched. Given that they could have hurt me when I was unconscious, I reasoned that the drink would be safe.

Amazing how quickly one’s powers of logic return after a decent sleep.

I checked my phone which had been plugged into the charger.

“It’s seven!” I gasped. “I’ve been asleep for hours!”

I hurried to the stairs and peered down them cautiously. I wasn’t sure what I would see when I descended. However, the only person in sight was Rob.

“Query, are you hungry?”

“Uh…yeah.” My stomach seconded that with a loud growl that could not be misinterpreted.

“I have prepared a meal in anticipation.”

It was scrambled eggs on toast. I ate it a little self consciously as Rob was watching me.

“Are you not eating?” I asked, hoping to get him to sit down.

“While I can perform the function of ‘eating’, I only do so as a social nicety. I do not require nutrients that come from food.” I put a forkful in my mouth and chewed it. Rob watched me eat. “Query, how does it taste?”

“Um…good?”

Rob blinked, his eyelids moving in perfect unison. I hadn’t realised just how used to ‘imperfection’ I was in humans. It really did set us apart from machines.

“If your hesitation to answer is due to concern over my feelings being hurt, you need not trouble yourself. I have no emotions.”

“None at all?” I asked.

Rob shook his head. “None.”

“I guess that’s what makes you such a good mediator,” I recalled the way he had been instrumental in bridging the gap between myself and the other fantasy characters…for the most part, “no emotions getting in the way, making it hard to be logical. No pride either.” I swallowed. “The meal…it’s nice. I mean, I suppose it’s a little bland…”

“I do not have Bastian’s skill with herbs and flavourings as I cannot taste the difference they make. I am inclined not to add them lest I injure you.”

The egg stuck in my throat. “Injure me?” I asked after forcing it down.

“Jo showed me how to make the dish I have prepared for you. I have seen the way Bastian adds flavours with ease and decided to be ‘creative’,” he paused, “it was not a success. Apparently a little chilli goes a long way.”

I felt a snort of laughter try to work its way through me. I kept eating.

“Where are the others?”

“Bastian, Rafael and Eustace have returned to their worlds. It was decided, after your asthma inducing panic attack, that you required some space to…think.”

“So…they’re back in their books?” Rob nodded and I contemplated how to get Rob back in his then it occurred to me that he’d left someone out. “What about Faelan?”

“Faelan was…” Rob paused. “To understand how he was, you would need to know what he did.”

“What did he do?”

“From what I understand of the healing abilities of the highborn elves of Ilanard, Faelan gave from his own spirit to heal you.”

I stared at Rob and he stared back without blinking. “He…gave of his own life?”

“Yes, that is an adequate explanation.”

Though I didn’t appreciate their invasion, I didn’t actually want anyone to get hurt.

“What happened to him? Why didn’t he go home?”

“He was unable to, so weak was he.” My heart was sinking in my chest. “After he healed you, he collapsed. I carried you upstairs to your bed and Bastian and Rafael carried Faelan out to the fig tree.”

“To bury him?” I asked in terror.

“Faelan is not dead. He was simply weakened. Faelan draws energy and life from natural surroundings. The fig tree and Faelan have an affinity together. They are roughly the same age.”

“That tree is a least a hundred years old, I think…”

“Faelan believes it to be closer to two hundred.” I finished the scrambled eggs and picked the plate up. “Allow me.” Rob offered and took it to the sink.

“You won’t rust?” I asked, watching him sink his hands into the soapy water.

“The composition of my body structure is not susceptible to water damage…and because of my substantial weight, I have not yet tested full submersion. I have a splash rating of three feet.”

“Like a watch or phone…” I murmured. “Is Faelan still out there?”

“He is.”

“I should probably thank him.” I went out the front door and down the steps. I tied my jacket warmly around my waist as a cold breeze was blowing. The sun had disappeared behind the sharp incline of the mountain edge and all the shadows were gone…or perhaps they had merged together to create one big blanket of darkness.

It was even darker underneath the fig tree. I looked up, peering through the leaves.

“Faelan?” I called softly. “Are you there?”

“I am.”

I looked in the direction of the voice but could not make anything out but shadow.

“I can’t see you…” There was a shift of movement and suddenly he landed on the lawn in front of me. I gasped and stepped backwards. “That’s quite a drop from up there.”

“I could fall twice as far and still land undamaged and on my feet.” He said with a hint of pride but given the impressive feat, I couldn’t blame him. “You seem much recovered.”

“Yeah…thank you.”

“No, I owe you an apology. I sensed a more serious condition this morning when I first cast calm over you but I did not address it.”

“It’s not your fault. I was really sick with a respiratory illness when I was little and the doctors told me that, while my lungs would get better over time, they’d never work like they’re supposed to.” I shrugged.

Faelan looked up at the sky, his alkaline features reflecting the moon’s very soft glow as it peeped out from behind a cloud.

“How man fumbles in light of what he does not know and dabbles in what he ought not touch…” He said softly. “Lesser beings are thee.”

Okay, that was a little arrogant.

“Well, unfortunately, we weren’t born with the ability to help someone by…whatever you did.”

“I am pleased, then, to have been in the…’right place at the right time’?” I nodded as he glanced at me, the question in his eyes as to whether he got the phrase right. He gave the smallest smile and looked up at the night’s sky again. “Your lungs will not trouble you again.”

“Wait,” I paused, considering his words, “you didn’t just stop the attack?”

“After this morning’s episode and seeing that it was only a temporary fix, I made sure you would not suffer it again.”

I pressed my hand to my chest. “So when you say ‘healed’...”

“I mean it in its entirety.”

The enormity of what he was saying was a little unbelievable…but I couldn’t just fob it off.

“Thank you seems too small now…”

“It was our presence that caused catastrophic stress upon you. Sorry seems too small a word as well.”

I dove my hands into my pockets, feeling a little awkward. “Rob says you gave of your spirit to heal me?”

“Yes.”

“And that weakened you?”

“Temporarily. The rest amongst nature rejuvenated me enough that I can return to bathe in the divine light of the elves of Iffah. This will restore me fully.”

“Oh good.” I looked up at the tree. “The others seemed to know to bring you out here.”

“They know my friend and I,” he put his hand out to touch the trunk, his fingers trembling over the rough bark, “are kindred spirits. I help him to grow, he sustains me in weakness.”

I guessed at the meaning behind some of his words and while I had more questions, I was shivering.

“So you’re all better?” I asked.

“I have recovered enough to return to my world.”

Ah, the result I was looking for…only I kind of felt bad now, looking for an opportunity to lock them out of my world and life. I had to remind myself that I only had their word as to what had happened and how Faelan had helped. For all I knew, I might descend into a coma just like Aunt Jo. I had to get my life back.

“I’ll walk you inside then.” Faelan crossed the grass with me. I paused at the bottom of the stairs and looked back. If ever there was evidence he was not of this world, it lay in the impressions we left behind, or more accurately, the fact that he left none. The rich grass was flattened into the shape of my footprints but where Faelan had walked, there was nothing. It was as if I’d crossed the lawn on my own.

Faelan said goodnight to Rob and headed out the back to the Observatory. I looked at Rob and he looked at me.

“So…I guess that’s it for today.” I hinted vaguely.

“Indeed. Query, how do you feel?”

“I’m actually still tired.” Which was entirely true. A full belly, lungs that were working without straining and a body that was still begging for more sleep. “I guess I’ll go back to bed.” Rob stared at me, unblinking. “Should I walk you out?”

“Query, out where?”

I cringed. “To the Observatory…you know…to your world?” He said nothing. “You must be missing your home, right?”

Rob blinked. “I…have not returned to my world…in nearly five years.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“Your aunt granted me…asylum is the most accurate word I have to describe it.”

“But…” I floundered. “Your family…you must be missing them…or the people…or stuff…”

“I am a service robot and my…duties…have not been required for some time. When the door to this world unlocked, it was within the storage container where I had spent three years without being called upon.”

“Hold up,” I shook my head, “you were in a cupboard for three years?”

“It was larger than a cupboard, but yes.”

“And someone just…locked you in there?”

“No lock was required. I was told to stay there until my services were required.”

My head was reeling. “So…Aunt Jo said you could stay here instead of going back to the cupboard?”

“She did.” Rob paused and I saw a flicker of something in his artificial eyes but it was so fast I couldn’t identify it. “I have made an error. I have presumed that the same arrangement will exist with Bethany St James as it did with Johanne West.”

Oh no…he was asking me now?

“Um…well…I don’t know…I mean, it might be…awkward…having you in the house…”

“I was in the house when you arrived. There was no awkwardness then.”

I blinked and stared at his impassive expression. “Back up…you were here…the whole time?”

“I was in the office.”

“The office?” I recalled the locked door I couldn’t open. “But…you showed up when the others did in the Observatory!”

“I heard the doors unlock and simply arrived at the same time. If you recall, I came in behind you, which was a glass door and not a bookshelf.”

In the chaos of the moment, I had not thought about it, but Rob was right. He had not come from a bookshelf. He’d been in the house!

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I demanded, clutching my jacket tightly around myself.

“I…do not have that data.”

“What?”

Rob tilted his head in his expressionless manner. “The information to your query is not available. It is possible files have been corrupted or deleted.”

Oh well, why didn’t that surprise me?

“Query, may I stay?”

“I…sure…”

“Thank you.”

He did not question the hesitant way in which I gave him permission. My words were enough despite my expression doing little to convey confidence. Feeling deflated I went up the stairs and into my bedroom, shutting the door tightly behind.

“What am I going to do?” I muttered. “I can’t lock them all out if he’s here…but maybe…I can pull the books on the shelves of the others and lock them out and hide them. I mean, if any of them were going to stay, Rob is probably the one I’d object to the least. I don’t know how he’ll feel about my doing that…but then he doesn’t feel at all…so I could probably get away with it.”

Having decided what to do I waited for what seemed a decent amount of time before slipping on soft socks and creeping to the door. I eased it open silently and walked without sound to the stairs. I thought I was doing well.

“Query, do you require something, Bethany St James?”

I yelped, Rob standing where I’d left him, in the middle of the café floor.

“What are you doing there?”

“Waiting for you to wake up. By my calculations, even if you had fallen asleep the moment you were in your room, you are still lacking the seven point five hours of sleep required of humans of this world.” Rob stared at me. “Query, is something wrong?”

“No,” I gulped, “I just…wanted to see how you were…”

Fortunately, my lame answer washed over Rob’s head much like the subtleties of expression seemed to.

“I am operating within normal parameters. Thank you for your query. Query, is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No, no not at all.” I turned on the stair and went to go back up. I had an eerie suspicion he was staring at me and looked back at him but he was standing in the café, in the dark. “Rob?”

“Yes, Bethany St James?”

“You’re not going to stay there all night, are you?”

“I do not require sleep nor a bed.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Formulate algorithms based upon my knowledge of you and the functioning of ‘House of Figs’.”

I sighed, my plans for getting my life back shattered in the knowledge that I was being guarded by a synthetic knight that didn’t sleep.

“Goodnight then,” my shoulders sagged in defeat, “sweet dreams.”

I was on the landing, heading to my door when I heard Rob’s voice carry quietly to me.

“Strange…”

“What is?” I asked, leaning over the landing.

“That you should offer such a farewell to me.” Rob looked up at me. “Johanne West said the same thing the first night I became a resident of ‘House of Figs’.”

I felt a smile tweak at my lips. “That’s probably because it’s what she said to me every night when I stayed here.”

“Query, do you miss your aunt, Bethany St James?”

My heart ached. “Yeah, I really do. Do you?”

Rob blinked with perfect symmetry. “I lack the programming that would cause me to make connections of associations.”

“Ah…” I nodded. “Well, I’ll miss her enough for the both of us.”

“Thank you, Bethany St James.”

I’d failed to get all of them back into their worlds the night before and, with Rob in the café, I couldn’t prevent them from returning so when I came downstairs the next morning, all five were waiting for me at the table.

Any hope that the day before had been a bad dream vanished in an instant.

“Uh…hi?”

“Good morning, Bethany St James.” Rob greeted me.

“Hi!” Eustace, being the closest, lunged at me and gave me an angular hug. I was left reeling from his embrace and a little damp.

“My word, you’re even more ravishing this morning than you were yesterday.” Bastian bowed in a regal manner. “My princess…”

I eyed his outstretched hand but before I had to make up my mind as to whether or not to take it, Faelan interjected.

“As subtle as the mating call of a dragon.”

“Huh?” Eustace looked puzzled.

“Greetings Bethany, I hope you slept well.”

“Yeah, I did, thank you Faelan.”

Having had all the others greet me, my eye naturally turned to Rafael at the end of the table, drinking coffee. The eyes of all the others rested on him as well.

He was as lean as Faelan but possibly taller and in his fitted Victorian styled suit with gothic embroidery in red and a dark red shirt, he was almost gaunt. This wasn’t helped by the chalky white of his skin. It was lacking any true warmth and he had shadows around his cold blue eyes. His hair was not as straight or as long as Faelan’s but it was black with the ends red like he’d let them soak up scarlet dye. There were also strands around his face, as sharp as black blades tipped with blood. He wore a large ring on his left hand and his nails were black. His lips seemed to be permanently set in a frown and his eyebrows only supported this observation.

He sat, turned to the side so he could cross his long legs with his cup in his hand.

When all eyes turned to him, his eyelashes fluttered slightly so we knew he’d sensed our perusal but he carried on drinking.

“And as usual, our resident vampire is less than communicative.” Bastian shook his head then turned to me. “How do you fancy some French toast? Or raisin toast? Egg in a hole?”

Eustace looked up excitedly. “Egg?!”

“What, no meat?” Faelan said pointedly.

“Hey, for your information, I had to eat all the meat in the café yesterday before the fresh stuff arrived. You can’t serve that to customers.”

“Query, Faelan, are not eggs also in the same category as meat?” Rob asked.

“It is less that they are unclean and more that they…smell unless properly prepared.”

“Egg in a hole it is!” Bastian chuckled with Eustace hovering nearby.

“Oh no, really, I don’t want to be a bother…” I insisted, suspecting that the war between the forces of good and evil was about to culminate in my aunt’s café over the offense of choosing the wrong breakfast.

“Enjoy the fruits of my labour today, for tomorrow, I shall be too busy.”

I paused. “Busy?”

“Reopening the café, of course.” Bastian cracked his knuckles and gave a wicked grin. “There are going to be some hungry ladies who have starved of my attention this past week.”

“Are you sure they do not come for my sweet desserts?” Faelan asked.

Bastian guffawed and even Rafael mustered the smallest smile.

“Oh…and just what new confection are you offering on the menu upon reopening? Cheesecake a la Faelan?”

“I already serve cheesecake but it is with forest fruits…” Faelan said, confused.

“Are you sure you’re not offering to feed it to the customers directly?”

“How would that be good manners?”

“Forget it, Bast,” Rafael shook his head, “he doesn’t get what you’re insinuating.”

“Agh,” Bastian shook his head, his mane rippling around his ears, “too heaven sent to be of any earthly fun.”

“So…no egg?” Eustace asked and the way his wide eyes looked at me pleadingly made me think of Oliver when he uttered the line, ‘please sir, can I have some more?’.

“I am planning on serving all my previous confections, as well as another I have been working on.” Faelan sighed as Rob explained to Eustace, no there was going to be no eggs. “Alas, there is no Jo to taste test it for me.”

“How come you never ask us?” Bastian demanded.

“Do not ask questions you do not have the fortitude to accept the answer to.” Rob warned.

Bastian rolled his eyes, put his hands on his hips and eyed Faelan sharply.

“How come you never ask us?”

“How can I explain this simply for your beast-like mind to comprehend?” Faelan paused. “Rob cannot taste and thus, cannot comment. Rafael only likes what I make when infused with coffee flavour. Eustace would eat anything, including the plate it came on, without taking pause to observe it for its aesthetic value and on you, Bastian, it would simply be a waste.”

My jaw dropped in horror.

Eustace roared with laughter, though he had been equally as maligned in the statement.

Rafael gave a small shrug as if conceding to the accuracy of Faelan’s statement.

Rob stood still, saying and doing nothing.

Bastian’s amber eyes glimmered with fire and he put his hands on the table.

“Are you challenging me?” He asked darkly and I heard a scratching sound. His nails had grown into claws and were digging into the tabletop. His ears flattened slightly on his head and I half expected him to start snarling.

“Take care not to damage the woodwork.” Rob ordered. Bastian looked at Rob and then back at Faelan. I trembled at the aura of violence suddenly emanating from him. He forced himself to stand up straight, removing his claws from the table. Faelan, despite facing off against a man who had suddenly become mythologically dangerous, had not shifted his gaze nor had panic filled his expression. “If the two of you cannot accept each other’s differences, you will not be able to work together to reopen ‘House of Figs’.”

“Um…who said anything about reopening the café?”

Everyone looked at me. I trembled at their gaze but the question needed to be asked.

“I just did.” Rob responded with pure logic.

“Yeah, okay…but I mean…the café can’t open.” Their stares became quizzical. Well, all of them except Rafael’s whose glare darkened.

“What?” He asked and my spine trembled.

“You…the…café…it’s Aunt Jo’s.” I blundered. “She’s in a coma…you can’t just…reopen her café without her here!”

“Why not?” Faelan asked.

I gaped at him. “Because…it’s her café! It’s her business! She’s…got to be here.”

“Actually, the terms of the agreement of ‘House of Figs’ operating as a company allow for the staff to operate it independently of the founder should the need arise.” Rob announced.

“I didn’t get that at all.” Bastian shrugged, having gone from raging to calm in less than a minute.

“It means Jo doesn’t need to be here.” Rafael interpreted.

“Yes but…you can’t expect the staff to know what to do when Jo not here.”

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“But we do.” Faelan insisted.

I blinked. “Hold up…are you saying…you work here?”

“As dim witted as Alice in Wonderland.” Rafael grunted.

“The staff of ‘House of Figs’ are in this room with you.” Rob explained.

I stared around at them. “All of you?”

“Specifically, Rafael is the barista, Bastian is the cook, Faelan manages the desserts and I fill in where I am required.” Rob explained.

“And I’m the mascot!” Eustace beamed.

I gaped. “What on earth did my aunt do?”

Rafael huffed loudly, slamming his cup on the table. “Do you not know anything, you foolish child?” He said and while he was shouting, his voice was oddly quiet and strained. “Do you know so little of your aunt that you cannot see her hand in everything we do and in ‘House of Figs?’. This is a waste of time, Rob,” he looked at the robot, “she cannot be convinced and she will always distrust us.”

“If you would stop talking about her like the enemy…”

“She isn’t the enemy. At best she is an apathetic child who is trying to explain and rationalise the wonder instead of experiencing it.”

“You despicable, unimaginable jerk!” I roared at him and Rafael took a step back. “I came here because my aunt sent me the key to this house! When I arrived, she was in a coma and I have done everything I can to understand what on earth is going on here without explanation. Maybe I don’t comprehend the wonder. Maybe I am a child in your eyes but I’ll tell you something, I’m the one my aunt sent the key to and if you even want the slightest chance of me unlocking the front doors and reopening this café, you better damn well remember that I was here first!”

“And where have you been for the past ten years?” He cried.

“Lost in my own personal hell!” I yelled back. “Not that you would have any idea of what I’ve been through!” Angry tears were filling my eyes. I blinked them back, shaking so hard I knew I couldn’t hide it. “You expect me to trust you because you’re telling me that Aunt Jo trusted you…but this key is proof that she did trust me and yet you won’t.”

The air between us was thick with tension and completely silent…although given how sharp most of their hearing was, my racing heart was probably on par with a rock concert bass beat.

Eustace shifted on his feet and Faelan put a hand on his shoulder, stilling his movements.

“The fair maiden is not the damsel in distress she made herself out to be.” Bastian chuckled.

“Backed into a corner, anyone would react out of self preservation,” Rafael leaned onto the table, eyes fixed on my, boring holes to my soul, “that is not the same as courage.”

“Somehow, no matter what I did, you would always see it in a negative light.” I replied. “If you look for fault, fault you will find.”

“She is Jo’s niece, no doubt about it.” Faelan said with a half smile.

“Query, what do you want to do?” Rob asked. “And let it be known, if you choose to close the café…we will abide by your decision.”

“You can’t possibly…” Rafael started, his eyes going wide with fright.

“It is Bethany St James’ decision, given to her by her aunt, a woman we admire.” Rob looked at all of them for precisely the same amount of time each. “Query, what do you want to do, Bethany St James?”

I faltered and sank onto a chair, feeling the pressure of all of their eyes on me.

“I don’t know.” I whispered then looked up, mostly gazing at Rob as I knew he would hear me out. “I didn’t ask for this. I’m not trained for it and the one person I would have gone to for advice is unconscious. I thought I was coming here for a couple of days, not investing my life into a café I don’t have the first idea of how to run.”

“In the interest of full disclosure that you might have all the information, most of the running of ‘House of Figs’ was left to us, having been trained and guided by your aunt.” Rob explained.

“We would never make changes without her approval,” Faelan added, “she was our mentor, however, she enjoyed giving us creative freedom.”

“Seeing as the café was open before it was closed, opening it again wouldn’t change anything either.” Eustace said with roundabout logic.

“It’d also be a way of generating income to look after yourself and the café.” Bastian nodded.

I ran my hands through my short hair, still not accustomed to the cropped length.

“That’s true I guess.” I admitted. “But would it be legal?”

“Operations would continue under ‘House of Figs’ company policy.” Rob replied. “I studied legal text at length last night.”

“So…” Eustace eyed me with his big, blue eyes that made my heart twist.

My fingers twisted together. “I don’t know…” I glanced at Bastian and Faelan. “It would mean exposing you all to people…I saw how easily your own interactions nearly blew out of proportions this morning.”

Rafael gave a frustrated huff. Faelan looked admonished and Bastian paused.

“My conduct was unbecoming in the presence of a lady. I apologise and vow, as the alpha of the Wolfgang clan, that I will not allow my ire to be sparked again, at least,” he eyed Faelan, “not where anyone might see.”

“While I did nothing wrong in answering a question so bluntly posed to me,” Faelan responded, “I should have taken the decline of conversation into consideration. I apologise also.”

“Then shake hands on it.” I said before I could stop myself. Bastian and Faelan looked at me. Bastian went to hold his hand out to me while Faelan’s fingers twitched. “No, not me and you. You two.”

Bastian and Faelan eyed each other.

“For the sake of the lady.” Bastian said, holding out his hand.

“For the sake of ‘House of Figs’.” Faelan replied and grasped his hand. There was a tense moment as I’m sure both of them squeezed then let go, neither of them letting on if the grasp had hurt.

“Query, are all your fears allayed?”

“As much as I guess they ever will be.” I shrugged.

“So we’re opening the café?” Eustace asked, trembling with excitement.

“Yeah…” I barely finished speaking when Eustace suddenly leapt into the air in excitement and sprays of water shot out from his body, soaking all of us, even Faelan who had tried and failed to find adequate cover. Eustace looked around at the puddles of water, the soaked furniture and his sopping companions. “Oh…”

“Maybe we should take this one day at a time…on a trial basis.” I flicked my hands to get the water off them.

“Even I’ll agree that is a smart decision.” Rafael sighed and walked off.

A while later, dressed and wearing my walking shoes, I went downstairs and accepted a piece of raisin toast from Bastian, smothered in real butter.

“Rafael made you a coffee.”

“Oh, well…”

“In a takeaway cup.” Bastian handed it to me. “I know you are a sensitive soul but I will point out that it cost his pride to do so.”

I nodded and took it. Bastian walked to where two armchairs had not escaped the drenching of Eustace’s enthusiasm and hoisted one onto his shoulder. Faelan was mopping up the water on the floor.

“Faelan, you know about plants, right?”

“I am the resident expert…until Jo returns.” He nodded.

“I want to pick a pot plant, something that won’t mind being indoors.”

“Is it sunny in the room?”

“Not particularly and let’s pretend that someone might forget to water it every day.”

“Then a succulent will probably be best. There are some out the back that would suit.” Faelan led me to the courtyard where there were a cluster of small pots, each with a little coloured stalk sticking out of them. “These pots have three or four different succulents in them, creating a display of flora.”

“Some of them don’t look like they have anything at all.”

“They will all grow, given time.”

I chose one that had a couple of visible buds popping through the earth. It was going to be heavy carrying it all the way to the hospital but I was determined that Aunt Jo would have her indoor plant to greet her when she woke up.

Out the front of the café was a scattering of furniture, deliberately placed in the sunshine. Eustace was happily curled up on one. I tapped Bastian.

“Is that wise? Won’t it end up wetter than before?”

Bastian glanced over his shoulder. “He lost control before. When he’s concentrating, he absorbs moisture from the world around him.”

“He’s soaking it up?” Bastian nodded. “Well…it can’t hurt, can it?”

“And it keeps him in one place where we can see him.” Bastian winked.

I had to agree with that.

“Well, I’m going out.”

“Query, are you requiring more quiet time?” Rob asked, setting a chair with a padded seat into the sun.

“I’m going to visit Aunt Jo…” The moment the words were out of my mouth I regretted them. Immediately my world shrank and I jumped out of my skin as five bodies surrounded me.

“You’re going to see Jo?”

“Er…” I spun around, not really sure what to say and certainly not where to look.

“Can I come?” Eustace begged.

“And I.” Bastian insisted.

“I should like to accompany you.” Faelan added.

“I want to see her too.” Rafael said in a threatening tone.

“We cannot all go.” Rob announced. “If we want ‘House of Figs’ to be ready in time to open tomorrow, a great deal of work must be done today.”

“Surely one of us ought to accompany her,” Rafael argued, “to make sure that Jo is in fact, as she says she is.”

“I have a name…” I muttered.

“I’ll go!” Eustace declared.

“You are soaking up the water you carelessly dumped all over the café.” Bastian argued and Eustace’s expression fell flat. “I am not so encumbered…”

“But you do need to prepare the food for the breakfast orders.” Rob responded and Bastian folded his arms, looking aside.

“I need to prepare all the sweets for the menu.” Faelan nodded, already knowing what Rob would say.

“I suppose I would have something urgent with coffee to do?” Rafael demanded.

“Not at all but you have clearly not demonstrated the kind of behaviour that would endear yourself to Bethany St James, making the outing one of pain and not of pleasure.” Bastian snorted with laughter as Rafael glowered at Rob who turned to me. “I am currently unoccupied and do not have anything urgent to do that I could not accomplish overnight as I do not require sleep. Query, may I accompany you?”

“Um…don’t you need to be here to keep an eye on things?”

“My eyes are fixed components in my approximation of a human male’s head.” Rob replied.

“She’s saying she still doesn’t trust that we won’t somehow destroy ‘House of Figs’.” Rafael’s tone was exasperated.

I was getting very tired of Rafael’s anti-me attitude over everything.

“Fine.” I said. “Rob and I will go to the hospital and you, Rafael Grayson, will be in charge.”

“Me?” He was stunned which pleased me.

“Yep. And if the house is in disarray when I get back, you’ll be the one I blame.” I put my hand on the gate latch. “Coming Rob?”

“Indeed.”

We exited the grounds and began to walk out of the cul de sac. Though I had dealt Rafael a stunner with my announcement, I was still riled up with his arrogance.

“Query, do you fear that Rafael will not perform his duties adequately?”

“Huh?” I looked at Rob then shook my head. “No, not that. I just…don’t get his attitude. He’s acting like everything that’s gone wrong is my fault…even though I only showed up two…two and a half days ago.”

“Though I do not know the details of his particular story and world, from what I have been able to infer, Rafael views ‘House of Figs’ as a type of sanctuary. Query, may I hold that for you?”

“Huh?” Rob held out his hands and I gave him the pot plant. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

We walked down the hill and up the other side. “Why on earth would a vampire see a café in another world as a sanctuary? I mean, it’s not as if he’s forming his own harem of vampire worshiping women…is he?”

“Rafael has never displayed vampiric tendencies here.”

I thought about this. “But he must do, mustn’t he, in his world?”

“To this extent I have not inquired. Query, am I walking too fast for you?”

“Maybe a little. You’ve got quite a long stride and I’m not as tall.” Rob slowed his pace for me. I studied him a moment, considering what he was wearing. “You’re from the future, right?”

“I am from a fictional future, yes.”

“I thought we’d all be wearing silver jumpsuits or something a bit less…ordinary.” I gestured to Rob. “The chinos, loafers, tshirt and tan cordory jacket are a little…normal.”

“These are the clothes Jo bought me so that I would fit in better when dealing with customers. When I first arrived, I wore something similar to what you described.”

“Oh…” That actually made sense. While not as distinctive as a werewolf’s ears or even Faelan’s pointed ones, Rob’s ‘perfection’ made people take a double glance at him, like the heat rising off the road on a hot day. It was easily dismissible but it was also attention gaining. Wearing something futuristic would have just made it impossible to look past him.

As he walked beside me, past the rows of cottage styled B&Bs, close to the CBD but far enough to enjoy the quiet as the sign advertising them said, I realised that, to the casual observer, Rob looked like a rather handsome twenty-ish year old.

“Query, do my clothes meet with your approval?”

I studied him. He looked quite good in the clothes. They helped blend him in to the background of ‘normal humans’ although one ‘query’ out of him and they’d start questioning if he was entirely sane.

“You do. Are they new?”

“Query, is the term ‘new’ relative to the fashion trend at the time?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Then my answer is no.”

“Oh…how old are they?”

“Two years.”

I blinked. “But you’ve been here longer than that, yeah?”

“These particular clothes were only purchased two years ago. However, I came through to your world five years, two months and sixteen days ago.” Rob tilted his head and I wanted to push it back upright. “I have been told when I recount the hours and seconds that I am being redundant. Query, would you like to hear them?”

“Ah, no, I’m good.” Rob righted his head and we kept walking.

My eyes travelled upwards to his hair. I had this inane urge to touch it, to see if it was as plastic as I thought it would feel. Abruptly I realised he was looking at me and I sensed another ‘query’ coming along.

“Hey Rob,” I blurted before he could speak, “where did the name ‘Rob’ come from?”

“It is simply a nickname, short for robot.”

I paused. “Was that my aunt’s idea?”

“It seemed appropriate. Calling me ‘Robot’ would invoke unwanted interest.”

“What were you called in your world?”

“I did not have a specific name, or, more accurately, I had many names.”

“Many names?” We turned a corner, skirting the edge of the CBD that was filled with kitsch shops, bakeries, vintage and second hand stores as well as the normal shops modern day residents needed.

“Each new owner can choose to name me according to their wishes.”

“Oh,” we continued to walk, “Rob, how many owners have you had?”

“Officially, thirteen.”

“Really? What about the unofficial ones?”

“I have been stolen and as such, all names I was called during such times were unofficial.”

My jaw dropped open. Bare branches rattled over our heads. Spring seemed so long away.

“You were stolen?”

“I was.”

“Why didn’t you report your theft?”

“By the time I was stolen, my replacement had been announced. It effectively made me outmoded. Had I reported myself, I would have been dismantled or upgraded.”

“Jeepers…” We entered the grounds of the hospital, cutting through the gardens. I walked on the bark chips and saw Rob taking the path. “Dismantled for you means the same as death?”

“It would if I was alive.”

“Fair enough…but what about upgrading? Isn’t that…better?”

“I have no say in the matter.” We crossed the carpark. “There is also the possibility that they will erase my memories and I will forget everything.”

“Okay, so upgrading sounds about as bad as dismantling.” I conceded. “You say ‘they’…who is ‘they’?”

“The humans who survived the blight of the earth. We robots serve them and keep the remnant alive and well, as all the humans on my world’s earth have perished.”

It was a chilling thought as we entered the hospital. I knew the way easily by now and led Rob through the building to the ICU ward. The nurse at the station recognised me and nodded as we passed.

“She’s in here.” I said and walked into the room. “Hi Aunt Jo. I’ve brought a friend.”

I walked to her side and, wanting to convey a sense of confidence, took her hand and gave it a squeeze, looking back at Rob. To my surprise, he was still at the doorway.

“You coming in?”

“I have not been given permission.”

“Uh…you may come in.”

Rob tilted his head. “Query, is this permissible as the occupant herself is unable to grant permission?”

“Yes.”

Rob nodded, put his head back upright and entered the room.

“Aunt Jo, you remember Rob?” I gestured for him to come closer. “Say hello.”

Rob blinked. “Jo is unconscious.”

“Apparently coma patients sometimes recall people talking to them.” I explained.

Rob seemed to process this. “Jo, it is Rob. Query, do you intend to wake from your coma?” It would have been both the best and the most terrifying thing in the world had Aunt Jo opened her eyes, looked at Rob and replied to his query. While she did not, at least I was spared the nightmares. “Query, should I speak more?”

“Ah…yeah.” I held out my hands and he gave me the pot plant. I found a place in a sliver of sunshine from a gap in the curtains for the pot plant to rest. Behind me, Rob began to give Aunt Jo an account of everything that had happened at ‘House of Figs’ during her absence. I tested the soil and found it was a little dry. “I’m going to get some water.” I told him and left the room. The water dispenser wasn’t far and in less than a minute I was back at the doorway.

Rob was leaning forward, his voice hushed as he spoke, ending with,

“I am sorry, Jo.”

My heart gave a quiver of fear. Rob seemed unaware of my presence and after a long enough pause I made a few footstep sounds then walked into the room.

“Here you go,” I told the plant, avoiding eye contact with Rob, “have a good drink and grow big and strong so that Aunt Jo has a friend nearby when she wakes up.” I brushed my hands off and turned to Rob, frightened he would see the evidence that I’d heard what he’d said written across my face. Instead he was studying the machines.

I had some experience with life sign monitoring hospital equipment and was impressed at its level of technology, though in the end, it hadn’t done much good. However, as Rob studied them, it dawned on me that here was a sophisticated machine designed to look like a human studying real world machines that were rather primitive in comparison.

“I suppose these seem foolish to you,” I observed quietly, “I mean, where you’re from, humans probably don’t get sick anymore and hospitals don’t even exist.”

“It is true that the current human race does not suffer the same maladies as the ones that had rendered the rest of the population of earth extinct,” Rob admitted, “however, if I may be so indulgent as to surmise an emotional response, it comforts me to know that Jo is being watched over by machines. They sing to her.”

“Sing?” I asked.

“Yes. Query, can you not hear their melody?”

I shook my head and opened my mouth to speak. Rob put his finger to his lips and I remained silent. At first I was curious then the silence became awkward and then…slowly but surely…the light beeps, whirs and electronic noises of the machines in the room began to coalesce. I had never opened myself up to the awareness of them, sure that silence was meant to be filled with noise. Standing in the room, listening to the symphony singing around my aunt, I was suddenly confounded that I had never noticed it before, missing out on something quite astonishing.

I had resented the beeps and chirps of hospital equipment in the past as they recorded the decline of health. However, in this room, with their consistent melody, I realised that they were letting me know that she was alive.

It wasn’t ideal but it wasn’t as frightening as it once had been.

“Query, is our visit at an end?”

It was with reluctance that I left the room, promising to return tomorrow.

We walked quietly out of the hospital grounds, back towards ‘House of Figs’.

I glanced at Rob who walked at the same pace with his stride adjusted to my height.

“Thank you, Rob.” I said at length.

“Query, what is your gratitude in regard to?”

“For helping me hear the music of the machines.” Rob did something weird with his face. I recoiled as his lips tightened and widened and his teeth showed in some kind of maniacal snarl. “What are you doing?!”

“Smiling.” He said and horror washed over me. “Query, is this not an adequate simulation?”

“Hell no!”

“Query, would you like me to stop?”

“Yes!” I was nearly faint with relief as his face dropped back into his usual blank expression.

“From the interactions of the customers of ‘House of Figs’ and Jo’s own encouragement, my social database has grown to include the ‘positive influence of a smile’ and the notion that, ‘a first impression is a lasting impression’.”

“You’re liable to give people nightmares with that smile!” I wanted to shut my words down even as they left my mouth but I couldn’t do so. “Sorry, Rob. I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

“I am incapable of feeling hurt, both physically and emotionally.” Rob assured me yet I felt wretched all the same. “I have been practicing my smile in front of the mirror and felt I had an approximation of a natural smile…”

“Yeah, it didn’t look natural. It looked forced.” I paused. “You weren’t designed to smile?”

“Not in the open, friendly manner that you and your aunt do.”

“Well…what does your programmed smile look like?”

Rob actually frowned. “Query, do you really wish to see it?”

There was an odd atmosphere in the conversation and though Rob insisted he did not have emotions, I could almost sense a reluctance emanating from him.

“You know what, I’m good.” I assured him and then, because I could feel my phone buzzing, trying to get my attention, I drew it out of my handbag and distracted myself with it. “Eden, dad…oh Casey…” I frowned and hit call, putting the phone up to my ear.

“Bet! I thought you’d disappeared for good!”

“I’m still here.” I chuckled. “Listen, Case, Aunt Jo’s not improving and, well… ‘House of Figs’ needs me here…”

“What you’re saying is, you won’t be back anytime soon, is that it?”

“Well…”

“Don’t beat around the bush. It’s okay. Your aunt needs you and probably will when she wakes up, right? It makes sense that you stay.”

“Thanks Case.” I sighed.

“You need me to send up clothes?”

“Actually, that would be great.”

“Bag, suitcase or two suitcases?”

“You know what? A suitcase will cost the same as two getting it here. Might as well pack both. That way you should be able to fit all my clothes into them and most of my shoes.”

“Makes sense. Will do as soon as I can. I’ll let you know when they’re on their way.”

“I’ll transfer some cash…” I cringed, knowing I was promising something I did not have.

“You’re broke and we both know it. I’ll cover it now and we’ll sort it out later.”

I nodded. “You’re the best, Case.”

“Adios amigos!”

I hung up and put the phone away as we turned into the cul de sac. As we passed the house with the bright blue roof I heard someone calling out to us.

“Rob!”

“Query, how are you, Mr Dunn?”

I tensed, wondering what Gary would think of Rob’s ‘query’ but the old man just chuckled, looking craggy and old in his well worn clothes.

“Formal as ever. Rob, I hate to tear you away from your lovely companion,” I blushed, “but I need to clean out my gutters. The last time it rained, the water couldn’t flow and I ended up with damage in the back wall.”

“Query, Bethany St James, would it be permissible for me to assist Mr Dunn?”

“Yeah, Rob, it’s fine.”

Gary opened the gate and ushered Rob into the overgrown yard. “Jet’s inside if you want to say hello.”

“Ah…okay I guess.” I went in the front door. The house had been built, probably in the seventies and it retained some of the outdated feel. However, the furnishings were all coordinated…perhaps a little too coordinated. The lounge room looked like came straight from a Swedish depo catalogue. The carpet wasn’t brilliant but had been covered with a rug from the same store. There was a cubicle unit with a plastic pot plant, a weird ornament of abstract design, some books with dust on them, a tissue box and a picture frame looking so impersonal, they could have been put into anyone’s home and not looked out of place.

The kitchen, while very neat and tidy, again had the appearance of a catalogue and, apart from the dust, would look appropriate in a showroom somewhere. It was arranged into a horseshoe cooking area that looked into the dining room with a table that could probably extend to accommodate six or even eight people from its four person size. There was a bowl on the counter with a pile of oranges in it, probably from the orange tree I’d seen out the front.

“Wow…Swedish vibe or what?” I whispered then sighed, knowing that my upbringing had made me able to discern between budget furnishings that looked smart and haute couture designed houses. I hated that about myself. “Jet?” There was no answer and I recalled how distracted he was when I’d come across him playing his game. I peered through the house, not willing to go snooping into anyone’s room. I spied some photos on the wall and paused to look at them. There was Gary as a young man in mountain climbing gear with clouds behind him and mountain peaks poking through, taken I presumed just as he’d reached the top of the pinnacle. There was one of him, a lot older, standing in front of the house I was in. There was another with a woman who seemed a bit younger with a kind face. Though she wasn’t in a traditional wedding dress, they were in their best clothes and I suspected it was the day of their wedding. The next was one of Gary and Jet as a young boy, leaning over the table, Gary possibly helping Jet with his homework. I think the photo was taken without their knowledge. It was sweet. The last one was of Gary standing with Jet who was older and holding a certificate.

“School graduation maybe?” I mused. “It looks like Gary’s played a big part in Jet’s life. Speaking of Jet…where is he?”

There was a room at the back of the house with a closed door. Having no other options, I rapped on it. “Jet?”

It then occurred to me that I was trying to get the attention of someone I wasn’t that fond of in the first place. I held my breath and turned to leave.

“What are you doing here?”

I cringed and turned back to see Jet standing in the doorway in cargos and an oversized tshirt.

“Uh…your grandpa said I could come in…” I blundered.

Jet stared at me and for a moment I wondered if he’d completely forgotten who I was.

“Oh…why?”

“He asked Rob to help him fix his gutters.” I shrugged.

“Oh.” Jet frowned. “So…you want a drink?”

Hoping for anything to move us beyond the awkwardness of the moment I agreed. Jet got down five glasses and, of course, they all matched. He opened the fridge and peered inside.

“We’ve got water…lemonade…ginger beer.”

“Water is fine.” I suggested, putting three of the glasses back.

Jet turned around and looked at the two glasses on the counter. He blinked, doing a double take then got down three more glasses.

“Oh, sorry,” I blundered, “were you pouring drinks for Gary and Rob too?”

“No?”

At this point I was too confused to press on. Jet poured us our drinks, leaving the other three glasses.

“You want to…sit…somewhere?” He asked vaguely.

“Sure.” We walked to the lounge room and I sat on one of the armchairs while Jet took the other. There was a three seater against one wall which looked like it was mostly neglected. I suppose, in a house where only two people lived, seating five in the lounge room was kind of…pointless.

I wished fervently I’d had the presence of mind to decline the drink and sit. I sipped the water.

“Your pops has a nice house.”

Jet looked at me quizzically then looked around as if studying it for the first time. “It’s a bit…old.”

“So is he.” I pointed out.

“Hasn’t changed since I was little.” He put his drink down. “I think that’s why I like it here.”

“You came here a lot?”

“Yeah.”

Talking with Jet was not an easy task. “Are you here on holiday?”

“No. My mum has a new boyfriend…and he objected to my still living at home.”

“He kicked you out?” I exclaimed.

“He said I was taking advantage of her.” Jet shrugged. “I like it better here.”

“Still, that’s pretty rough.” I had to rein in my disgust. I didn’t want to say anything cruel about his mother. And there was the possibility that Jet needed to be pushed out of the nest. After all, hadn’t Gary called him lazy and useless?

We heard footsteps on the roof and there was a scraping sound through the guttering.

“Rob’s clearing the gutters.”

“Pops didn’t say he was going out. He always says if he’s going out.”

“What?” I frowned then shook my head. “No, no, we were just passing on our way back from the hospital. He called us over from the front yard.”

“You let your fantasy guests out of the café?”

“Just the one.” I insisted. “They all wanted to visit Aunt Jo. Unless he talks, Rob gets the least amount of attention.” I leaned forward. “He actually lives in the café. He was there the whole time, locked in the study.” Jet nodded as if this was normal. “You know, you’ve taken all this in very casually. I mean, if it was me…and it was me…I’d have had an asthma attack brought on by full blown hysteria…which I did. Why aren’t you more freaked out?”

Jet shrugged his angular shoulders. “There’s enough weird things in this world. Why would fantasy characters be any different?”

“Uh…because they’re not real.” I chuckled at my words, hearing how silly they sounded after all I’d experienced.

“I read manga and watch anime where characters from the real world get sucked into fantasy worlds and they are given powers and usually rise from the lowest ranks to be a hero.”

“Seriously? That’s common?”

“Yeah. So it makes sense that, eventually, some of them would have crossed over to our side.”

“Yes…but they’re stories and creativity and imagination. Not real.”

“The stories had to come from somewhere.”

I shook my head, stunned at how Jet was justifying the fantastic turn my life had taken. It was just another day for him.

“Ah, being a good host, Jethro?” Gary appeared in the doorway with Rob behind him.

“I offered her a drink.” Jet said.

“Wait,” I looked at him, “Jethro?”

“Did he tell you that his name is Jet?” Gary snorted. “That’s just his…oh his whatchamacallit from his gaming things.”

“User name?” I raised my eyebrows at him. “So, your full name is Jethro?”

Jet gave me a blank look.

“Yep, my step daughter gave birth to a seventy year old man.” Gary shook his head. “Rob tells me you’re reopening the café.”

“Oh…that’s the plan.” I blurted.

“It’ll be nice to have it up and running again. It’s been sorely missed. Oh the amount of disappointed expressions of people who read the ‘closed’ sign on the gate and the cars that drove past every day…” Gary looked at Jet. “You know, if you made yourself useful, you could get a job there just three doors down from your own front yard. Sweeping floors, watering plants…you might even learn something.”

Jet eyes shifted downwards. “I don’t like getting my hands dirty.” He muttered.

“If you want to accomplish anything in your life, you’ve got to get a little dirty.” Gary retorted. “You might finally appreciate the real world if you touched it once in a while.”

I could see Jet hunching down, his posture going into defensive mode. Suddenly I felt sorry for him. “Well, the café is really run by Rob and the others…they’d be the ones to decide if we had any work for Jet. Why don’t we go ask them together?” I looked at Jet pointedly. “Come on, then.”

I had the feeling he was going to protest or flat out refuse but he stood up stiffly and followed us out of the house, the front gate and up the road.

Rob and I walked in unison while Jet lagged behind. At the gates of ‘House of Figs’, Rob went in first and I paused, allowing Jet the chance to catch up.

“I’m not good around people.” He muttered.

“You don’t say?” I snorted. “Look, I figured Gary needed you to make an effort so an effort is being made…but if, and probably when, the guys say they don’t need your help…you’ll at least be able to go back to your pops and tell him as much.”

Jet frowned then nodded. “Okay.” He agreed and came into the yard. “Why is the furniture out here?”

“Eustace had an…incontinence problem.” I giggled to myself.

“Oh.”

“Welcome back,” Bastian greeted from the veranda where he and Faelan were cleaning the bay window at the right hand corner of the house. “How was your date?”

“Date?” I looked at Jet who raised an eyebrow. “We didn’t go on a date.”

“With Rob.”

“Oh,” I shook my head, “wait, that wasn’t a date either!”

“You really ought to stop teasing Bethany,” Faelan rebuked in his calm way, “lest she refuse to reopen ‘House of Figs’.”

Bastian gave me a sultry look. “I bet I could get her to change her mind…”

“Ugh…” I muttered and opened the front door.

“No snacking! Lunch will be ready shortly!”

My stomach rumbled at the smells coming from the kitchen. Rafael was behind the coffee counter, cleaning the serving station that operated out of the bay windows that Faelan was putting the polishing touches on, cleaning the windows to a perfectly transparent finish.

“How was Jo?” Rafael asked Rob.

“She is as Bethany St James said she was, in a coma.” Rob replied.

I bristled, knowing Rafael was testing my word and not being subtle about it either.

“You’re in charge of the coffee?” Jet looked at Rafael.

“I have been trained in the art of being a barista.” He replied curtly.

“Faelan does the desserts.”

“I do indeed and I suspect my cheesecake is just about set.” Faelan announced as he came inside, washing his hands and opening the fridge.

“Bastian cooks the meals…”

“Wrong,” Bastian walked in, still without a proper shirt on, flicking the towel he’d used over his shoulder, “I create masterpieces of culinary perfection, a grillardin if you will.”

“Rob, what do you do?”

“Although my original purpose was physical rather than mental, the algorithmic state of my mind adapted itself naturally to processing bookings, tallying totals, preparing financial statements, paying bills…”

“And Eustace?” Jet looked at me and I shrugged.

“He said he’s their mascot.”

“So…?”

“I think that means they don’t trust him to do anything…so they gave him a title.”

Jet nodded. “Then I have a question…what are you going to do?”

I started. “Me?” He nodded again. “But…I…that is to say…I don’t…” I floundered. “Hang on, weren’t you coming here to ask if you could have a job?”

“I thought I came here on the pretence of asking for a job.” Jet returned.

“So you are here to spend more time with Bethany?” Faelan carried plates to the table. “Are you forming an attachment of bonding?”

“Woah!” I gulped and Jet lurched back.

“No!”

“I should think not,” Bastian glowered lightly at Jet, “or else his puny body would soon be crushed within my jaws as I challenged him for the hand of the fair lady.”

“Okay, Bastian!” I put my hands on my hips. “You know your ‘game’ that you’re playing? Imagine you’re at level eleven…dial it back to four!”

“As you wish.” He said, not discouraged in the least going by his wink.

“I have noticed that, if you bite at his goading, his strength of resolve only grows.” Faelan remarked quietly.

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that.” I sighed.

“Lunch is served!” Bastian announced, delivering a mound of melt in the mouth pulled Mongolian beef, perfectly seared vegetables and sides and crusty rolls to the table.

We sat down and made our own rolls. I saw Jet carefully lay a spoonful of the beef on his plate, then a spoonful of coleslaw, separate to the beef, seared slices of tomato and zucchini each in their own little place on his plate and then the roll. He proceeded to eat each pile separately.

I recalled his remark on not liking it when food touched and chose not to comment on it.

Jet clearly had his own little idiosyncrasies to get him through day to day life.

I built up my own roll. Though Bastian’s manner was overwhelming, it seemed he toned it down when he cooked. The flavours were balanced and each element worked in conjunction with the others. It had to be the best roll I’d ever eaten. Not that I wanted to give him the satisfaction of knowing as much.

Rob, not eating but sitting with us as I supposed his social programming told him he ought, offered to pour us drinks. The lemonade was unbelievably good, tangy and refreshing.

“This is incredible,” I breathed, “Faelan, did you make this?”

“I did.” Faelan nodded.

“You could bottle this and sell it by the crateful.” I drained my glass.

“Though it is a popular refreshment at ‘House of Figs’, it is far outdone by Rafael’s coffee skills.”

Rafael was drinking from his cup and licked his lips, fangs appearing at the corner of his mouth. When he wasn’t the centre of attention, he might have almost been called relaxed but the moment his name was mentioned and we all turned to him, he stiffened, clutching the cup like it was his shield.

“Aunt Jo really enjoys coffee.” I offered before he could say something abrupt. “I was thinking I should take a bag of beans to her room just so that it smells of coffee. I suppose you would know her favourite blend, right?”

His eyes flickered. “Of course.” There was a long pause. “I shall prepare a small satchel of it.”

“Thank you.” I answered sincerely and turned back to my roll, hoping that my interaction with Rafael was at its end.

“So…nobody answered my question.”

“What was that, Jet?”

“What did you aunt do around here?”

I swallowed my mouthful. “It’s a pretty good point. I mean…what did she do?”

“Are you serious?” Rafael asked. “You are not even aware of what Jo’s role was here?”

“Not with all of you doing what you do.” I insisted, feeling his words scrape against me but trying to keep a level head. “Am I expected to do something? I haven’t had any training!”

Rafael made a gruff noise and put his long fingers to his forehead, shaking his head.

“Unbelievable…”

I was winding up to give him another mouthful when Rob interjected with his usual, emotionless peace keeping way.

“Query, are you concerned that a vital cog in the ‘House of Figs’ machine will be missing should you not fulfill your role?”

“Well…yeah.”

“Then allow me to alleviate your concerns. Johanne West provided the training for all of us to perform the duties she would have had to do on her own should we not.”

“Yeah…but she can’t have done nothing.” I insisted.

“Haven’t you been paying attention?” Rafael demanded. “Jo did everything.”

I shook my head, defeated. I couldn’t get these guys to make sense about anything.

“Query, would you care to assist me in seating customers and taking their orders?” Rob asked. “It requires the least amount of training and I could observe how you interact with customers to polish my own…manner.”

“I guess I could do that,” I paused, “but I would like to visit Aunt Jo once a day.”

“That is a given.” Bastian wolfed down the last bite of his third roll. “Damn I’m good.”

“They are delicious.” I admitted and spied Jet eating everything separately. “Oh…so we ought to ask, while we’re here, is there any work Jet could do?”

He tensed up at my words.

The other four considered what I’d said.

“There is not sufficient work inside the café to warrant an extra person…” Rob tilted his head.

“I don’t do well with people.” Jet insisted. “Trust me, they’ll all end up offended and not coming back.”

“This ‘not doing well’ complication…would it also translate to dragons?” Faelan asked.

Jet gulped. “What do you mean?”

“Eustace is part of the staff of ‘House of Figs’,” Bastian explained, “but if he’s not watched, he can get a little…out of control.”

“That’s an understatement.” The vampire muttered from behind his coffee mug.

“Jo would have him help her when deliveries were made,” Faelan continued, “however, without her guidance, Eustace might become distracted by something and the goods will never arrive at their intended destination.”

“Eustace needs a handler?” I giggled.

“He needs a bloody leash.” Rafael’s words were quiet but I knew no one had missed them.

“He needs supervision.” Rob nodded. “In the past, we have all combined our efforts to watch over him but it was Jo who guided our young water dragon.”

“I really don’t think…” Jet blundered. “Look, I can’t even keep a goldfish alive…”

“Dragons are notoriously difficult to kill,” Bastian pointed out, “besides, you wouldn’t need to do it twenty four hours a day. Just when there are customers in the café.”

“Oh!” I looked at Jet. “Why don’t you set up a gaming console in the sitting room upstairs? You could show Eustace how to play and even get some of your own game time in. It works all round!” Jet still looked unconvinced. I turned to ask Eustace what he thought when it suddenly occurred to me that Eustace was not present. “Where is he?”

“He was getting underfoot so Rafael suggested that he return to his world to burn off some steam.” Bastian’s amber eyes darted at the vampire.

“We were all thinking it.” Rafael stood up. “Don’t pretend otherwise.”

I noticed that no one denied it.

“So…when are you thinking about opening?” I asked Rob.

“Tomorrow.”

“What!”

“Query, is this not acceptable?”

“It’s just…isn’t it a bit soon?”

“Everything is in place, Faelan has prepared a number of confections for display…”

“And I will continue to do so.” He nodded.

“Bastian has his menu organised…”

“Dishes fit for a werewolf king.” He chuckled.

“And Rafael has serviced the coffee machine.” Rob blinked. “Query, are we missing something?”

“Oh, no…just…” I shrugged. “I suppose we’re good to go then.”

“I shall make the announcement on the ‘House of Figs’ social media page.” Rob paused, tilted his head and blinked. “Done.”

“You have wifi?”

“Indeed.” Rob blinked three times. “The announcement has received several ‘likes’ already.”

I looked at Jet and pulled a face.

“This was supposed to get Pops off my back, not actually get me a job.” Jet muttered.

“If it’s not this job it’ll be another one. You really want to stack shelves in the middle of the night or pick fruit in season?”

Jet huffed. “Fine.”

“What hours does the café open?” I suddenly had visions of the place being open from five in the morning until midnight.

“The barista window opens at seven while the café opens at eight and the service closes at three in the afternoon. Booking a dinner party has been temporarily suspended.” Rob looked at me. “Is this adequate?”

“I’m sure it’s fine.” I gulped down the last of my lemonade. “Oh gosh…I hope it’s fine.”