Phoebe

Phoebe sat in the corner booth of the milkshake place, thinking about Angelo Castelloro. She'd only met him in person once, where his blonde, boyish good looks made him seem even more cartoonishly cheerful than his voice on the phone. None of it actually hid his underlying menace. He was the head of the Castelloro family, and they were a brutal criminal gang with a range of violent interests across Saxe-Merovia and Anjou.

She didn't know exactly what he'd do to her if the team fell apart and she couldn't afford to keep racing. He'd spent at least a couple million Royals to get her this far and Phoebe couldn't pay back a penny of it. He might have her killed, or just take what precious little she owned, but one thing was certain: he'd take Soot from her.

It was cold in the café, mid-week-late-night deserted. Phoebe huddled, feeling like she was shaking. Did Angelo already know how bad the team's financial position was? Maybe it would be better if she just went back to the Hyperio estate. Took refuge in her family's name. Never saw Soot again.

"Are you ok?" Thessaly's voice cut in.

Phoebe jumped. She hadn't even heard the mermaid approach. Rubbing a hand over her forehead and up through her bangs, she tried to pull her thoughts together, only to look up at Thessaly and lose it all again. Her eyes were so rich, that deep purple so much like Soot's that it almost seemed to shine like the dragon's. This close up her skin looked soft as a cloud, a hint of rose in her cheeks.

Thessaly let her stare for a moment and then giggled. "You said something about milkshakes?"

Somehow, Phoebe made it through the process of ordering, even being quick enough on the draw to pay before Thessaly had managed to get her purse out of her delicate black shoulder-bag. She took her coat off before they sat down – not the oversized winter coat she'd worn the night they met – and underneath she was wearing a sparkling one-piece, creamy white to the waist and shimmering turquoise down the thigh-length skirt. She must have been freezing, but she didn't show it.

Her milkshake was half again the size of Phoebe's if you included the mountain of whipped cream on top. She took a long pull from the straw and then glared at Phoebe. "What's up? You look like hell."

Phoebe put her face in her hands and rubbed her eyes. Her own shake was a relatively simple vanilla thing, the flavour offsetting the cold that hit her stomach. She rubbed her forehead again. "I don't know how long I'm gonna be able to keep racing." Saying it out loud sent a feeling through her chest like the muscles between her ribs collapsing, her ribcage folding like a pop-down tent.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

"How so?" Thessaly tilted her head slightly to one side, mouth still on her straw. Her lips sparkled faintly.

"We're running out of money." Phoebe sank back against the seat, shoulders slack. "The prize money won't cover our costs, I was stupid to think I could make this work. I wanted to do something to say thank-you for helping with the interview."

The mermaid drank thoughtfully for a moment. "Well, I'm glad I was able to help. What happens if you have to stop racing?" She giggled gently, "You make it sound like the end of the world."

No Soot. Going back to mother and father and the estate. If Angelo didn't hunt her down and have her killed, or worse. Phoebe felt herself starting to shake, tried to hide it, and realised she was welling up.

"What's wrong?" Thessaly's voice wavered. "Oh, shit, they'd take Soot away from you, wouldn't they."

Phoebe screwed up her face, trying to hold her mouth closed, feeling her lips stretch, the chill of moisture framing her eyes, spilling onto her cheeks. All those chest muscles that had collapsed felt like they were back, cramped tight as dragons in a breeding ranch's stable.

"Here, try this." Thessaly reached over, offering her milkshake. "You'll probably hate it."

Phoebe stared at her, then at the drink. There were faint sparkles round the top of the straw where the mermaid had been drinking. Woodenly, she reached up and took the cup, watching it tremble in her hand. The cream on top was thick enough that it barely shook.

The shake tasted of sugar and unicorns and other things that idols were supposed to breathe. It was overwhelming and somehow simultaneously so insubstantial it was like trying to swallow a cloud. She lifted it back towards Thessaly, trying not to grimace too much at the sickly aftertaste.

Thessaly caught her hand, gently separating it from the cup and holding on. Her fingers felt tiny, like pipe-cleaners, but her grip was firm. Phoebe let herself be pulled back upright, her whole arm suddenly on fire, barely breathing.

"What would need to happen, for you to keep racing?" Thessaly's question was soft.

Phoebe took a drink from her own shake. With the lingering effect of Thessaly's, it was still too much. "I think… if I win the next race, we might be able to get some more sponsorship money, if we get lucky and can find more sponsors."

"You can win this one, right? You said this course suited Soot."

"Yeah."

Thessaly squeezed her hand again, thumb stroking over the back of Phoebe's fingers. "You've already done so much to get this far, right? I don't know the whole of it but some of what you've talked about… If that's what needs doing, I believe you can do it."

"Do you really think so?" The words came out ragged.

The mermaid smiled, and Phoebe saw tears twinkling in her eyes too. "I bet Soot believes. He's counting on you."

Phoebe folded, shaking with racking sobs, head bowed almost to the table, free hand clenched in the fabric of her pullover at her waist. Thessaly held on, saying nothing but what her touch could say.

Eventually, Phoebe managed to wipe her eyes clumsily on her sleeve and look up again.

Thessaly said, "Promise me one thing?"

Phoebe nodded.

"Even if worst comes to worst… don't cut me off. Don't disappear."