Where is he?

A young, wiry man in a bright blue shirt and hip-length white jacket stood waiting next to his boyfriend’s short flashcyle, a shining red machine lined up alongside other small vehicles in the parking lot of the Port Administrative Authority.

It was cool under the winter clouds, and the wind shifted his hair. He hadn’t had it cut recently, and it was a mess. The roots, which were mostly black, were now exposed at least four centimeters. He lifted a hand to push a copper-colored curl away from his eyes.

Maybe it was a mistake to overwinter here, he thought.

He was a mountain man, and normally he would have spent winter helping to repair gear and setting out on the first, cold-weather harvest of the year with his mates. But late in the previous summer, on what was supposed to have been a short vacation at S.O. Port, he’d fallen, hard, for a man who worked in the market.

Another small knot of people headed in his direction, and he spotted Gil right in the middle.

Gil didn’t look pleased to see him, and as he came up on the other side of his bike he asked, “Why are you here?”

“Because you didn’t come last night.”

“So?”

“You didn’t warn me you weren’t coming.”

Gil unlocked his bag and pulled out his helmet, which he unfolded. “Why do you think I’m always going to come?”

Surprised, Tassater Fennery just stood there, wondering why it was his boyfriend was being so cold. Gil put his leg over his bike, and Fennery snapped out of it. Seeing Gil was about to leave, he slipped on behind him, as he had done a hundred times before.

“Fen, get off,” Gil said.

“I’m coming with you.”

A few seconds ticked by, and then Gil said, “Suit yourself.”

The bike quietly lifted from the ground as heat filled the space below their feet, and then they were off.

Fennery didn’t feel like shouting against the wind, so he sat gripping Gil’s waist and thinking about the sudden change in his attitude. They sped uphill, through the trees, and fifteen minutes later the path flattened out. Left and right, as far as Fen could see, there was a tall fence. Standing open in front of them was a gate, and a guard waved them through.

Fen knew Gil’s employer - he had even met him before. But he had never been to his house.

Whereas the trip through the trees had been along a dirt path, they were now on a gravel-paved road, and Gil turned left past a small stone building. He followed the road as it circled smoothly along in front of a series of houses. Then, it curved in the other direction and cut across a wide, open yard towards a mansion at the opposite end. Tall trees lined the approach to the mansion and when they came up to the front of the building, Gil cut left and turned into a shed where other vehicles were parked side by side.

The two men dismounted in silence. Fennery was tempted to say something, but it could wait - Gil was finishing up work for the day. They could talk after.

The length of the shed was open to the road. The underpinnings were old wood, and the floor was gravel. At the end that connected to the main part of te mansion there was a heavy gate in front of a white door. Gil waved a key in front of the gate and it unlocked. The door swung inward with just a gentle push.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Fen followed him in.

“Stay here,” Gil said, waving his hand in the air as he turned and walked off.

Fennery waited for ten minutes pacing, and staring at the damp stone walls, until he began to shiver. Where the hell is he?

He stood in the low archway where Gil had turned and exited to the right. Fen peered to his left, where the passage turned away underneath a darkened window. Then he turned back, and headed off the way Gil had gone. He ignored doorways off to his left and followed the passageway to where it ended in a staircase. Up, or down?

He went up.

At the landing was an open door. It led into a short, square room with a door to the left and an open archway in front. He approached the arch and looked out into a grand hallway that was wide enough to house a small luxury yacht. It was ringed round with a white balcony and as he surveyed the room he realized there were armed men at either end. He shrank back away from the opening.

Curious now, he ascended the next flight of steps. The door there was locked, as was the door on the third floor, where the stairs ended. He went back down, thinking to return to where Gil had left him. But as he passed the little room on the first floor, he heard a heavy creaking sound, and he couldn’t help but to peek out to see what it was.

The armed men were standing at attention. Five men were crossing the room. The golden-haired one, Fen recognized as the owner of the house. At his side was the shortest man in the group, a blond wearing an ugly, mustard-colored suit that marked him as being Thurinian. Whatever had been said to him was too soft for Fennery to hear, but the short man now said, “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll let you know.”

The owner, a man that Fen knew as ‘Yaeru,’ grinned. “Tell Emery he won’t know what hit him.”

Fennery pulled himself backward as the men disappeared to his right, but suddenly, there was a heavy blow across his back.

He was hurled forward, through the archway, and his head hit the tiled floor as he landed on his side.

“Who are you?”

Fen looked up to see a heavy man standing over him. He was too shocked to speak. The man had come out of nowhere.

The man lifted his eyes to look across the room. He shouted, “Greg! You know this guy?”

Fennery lifted himself from the floor as men surrounded him. The loud creaking noise resumed and the big man asked again, “Who are you?”

“Tassater Fennery.”

“And?”

“I’m sorry - I was just looking for somebody.”

From behind him came an amused voice. “Oh? Who?”

Fen half-turned, and saw men moving aside. As he turned all the way around, he realized it was the owner - Yaeru.

Fen shook his head. “I’m sorry, I was supposed to be waiting downstairs… it’s just that he didn’t come back so I was looking for him.”

“You were supposed to be waiting downstairs?” The owner locked eyes with him for a second, and then looked him over, as though searching for something. “Who were you supposed to be waiting for?”

“I don’t want to get him in trouble.”

The owner tilted his head and looked Fen in the eye. “Whoever it is, he’s not in trouble. I’m just curious why you’re up here.”

Fennery licked his lips. “I was just curious what the house was like.”

“Do you want to see it?”

“Uh…”

“Oh, just say yes,” the man laughed. “Do you know who I am?”

Fennery nodded and said, “Yaeru Ter’rin.”

With a twinkle in his eye, the man said, “That’s almost right. I go by Tellurin. But I’ll let you call me Ter’rin. Come on.”

And with that he walked off towards the open door near the back of the great hall. The guards made sure Fen followed.