Sohna and Vivian - My Brother's Keeper

“Since I’m not from this city,” he’d explained,“Virginia has no place to stay. I’m sure her father would want her to have every possible luxury ...” It wasn’t an argument that Murray, in his present state, could withstand. Still, he’d insisted that he couldn’t take them there himself - he’d need to be on hand in case Mr. Lewis returned unexpectedly. So he’d given her the address and made the call.

Once beneath the cooler shade of the trees, however, Virginia's mind cleared enough for her to remember that Wolf had obviously known something about the incident beforehand. She pulled on his hand and led him to a nearby bench.

“Are you tired, Virginia?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned for her welfare. His big green eyes looked at her as they usually did - as if she were the only other person on the planet. She had wanted to sound severe. It wasn’t going to be possible.

“No, Wolf,” she sighed. “I just ...”

He tilted his head, waiting quietly for her to go on speaking.

“I just got the impression that you knew something about what that was all about back there,” she said, thinking, oh, yeah, that was so clear of me. “With Mr. Murray,” she continued, giving the paper in her hand a feeble shake.“This.”

She’d half expected him to claim he had no idea what she was talking about - most guys would, she knew. But Wolf was not most guys. He looked guiltily away.

“Well?” she asked, trying to sound crisp and in control. The word came out soft and gentle instead. She couldn’t help it. His reaction made her want to hug the answers out of him.

“What’s going on?” she prompted.

“I don’t know, exactly,” he replied uncomfortably.

“Wolf,” she growled. If he was going to start doing that, she could certainly become serious, and quickly.

“I don’t!” he insisted. “Really! The exact things that happened were entirely up to Tony.”

“Dad?”

He nodded and scratched at his temple nervously.

“All right,” she said carefully. “Just tell me what you had to do with it.”

“I ... I gave him a dragon dung bean.”

“A what?”

“A dragon dung bean. It’s a magic bean. You get six wishes.”

“Six wishes?”

He nodded again.

“Just from owning this bean?”

“Oh, no. You have to swallow it.”

“And Dad swallowed it?” she asked incredulously.

“I presume so,” he said, scratching at his temple again. “I’d always thought that was why he could understand Prince Wendell - he’d used one of the wishes for that.”

An image popped into her head of her father, just before they passed through the portal into the Nine Kingdoms, saying “Watch this!” and then wishing he could understand everything the dog said. She’d thought he was nuts at the time. But they’d been separated almost immediately, and by the time she’d found him again, she’d grown so accustomed to the strange happenings there that it never occurred to her to question his ability.

“Am I right?” he asked.

She nodded absently, considering, then said, “Where did you get it?”

“Um ... I found it in my pocket.”

“What?” She looked at him skeptically.

“No, really, I did,” he insisted. “The mirror was in the cellar of the prison. When I stepped through it that was in my pocket.”

“It really grants six wishes?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I guess he must have used one on that Murray guy somehow. He was acting very strangely.”

“You can say that again,” she agreed. “Six wishes?” The idea was intriguing.

“Yes ... Oh, no, Virginia, no, it's not a good thing.”

“But you gave one to Dad.”

He looked instantly guilty again, like a little boy caught with his hand in a cookie jar, she thought.

“Um ... oh ... but that was before I met you,” he declared, as if that explained everything.

“And what exactly were you like before you met me?” she asked, primarily to keep him talking, expecting him to smile that sheepish grin he had.

His reaction surprised her - he looked abruptly away as if the answer pained him.

“What?” she asked softly. Had he really been in the prison for something serious after all, she wondered?

“Virginia ...” His tone was pleading.

“No,” she said, “Tell me.” If there was something bad in his past she wanted to know it now.

“I ... um ...” he started, then bit his lip. He took a deep breath and glanced at her remorsefully, then away. “I didn’t used to care what I did to people - non-wolfs - what happened to them,” he said quietly. “I don’t mean I went around killing anybody or anything - I just didn’t care how mean I was to them in general or what kind of tricks I played on them because I knew they didn’t care about me.” He slowly took another deep breath, glancing at her as if he half expected to be hit.

She thought for a moment. “Like you did to my grandmother?” she finally asked.

He closed his eyes and nodded, exhaling in a quiet little self-mocking chuckle.

“So is that what you were really in prison for?” she asked.

He looked up.

“No,” he said. “I was in prison for eating almost a whole herd of sheep.”

She couldn’t stop herself from laughing a little as she wondered for a fleeting moment if he’d actually been guilty, then quickly concluded it was certainly possible - after all, he had eaten an entire henhouse full of chickens. And she couldn’t deny that he’d been terrorizing her grandmother when they’d met - and been apparently going to attack Virginia herself with a meat cleaver. But since then she’d seen him play a very dangerous game to both break the curse on King Wendell and save two hundred people from being poisoned to death. Not to mention the several times he’d actually saved her life.

He was still regarding her hesitantly, a look of complete misery on his face. She really couldn’t stand it - she reached over and hugged him, hard. Beneath her hands she felt the tension go out of him as he drew her closer; heard it also in the ragged sigh he let escape. She couldn’t believe how much she loved him. She’d thought once that she could never possibly trust anyone with her whole heart, and now here she was with Wolf, whom she’d known for not quite six weeks. But strangely, the length of time didn’t matter at all - while she knew she’d had an existence before they’d met, she could no longer even imagine herself having ever been without him. It didn’t matter in the least what he might have done in that same unfathomable past. She loved him now.

But she did have to admit it would be difficult for her grandmother to see it that way. Fortunately that was something she didn’t have to worry about just yet. She did still have to find out what was wrong with the Murrays, though.

She looked up at Wolf, smiled, brushed the hair out of his eyes, and sighed. “Okay, so Dad must have made six wishes,” she began. “And one of them involved the Murrays. Why exactly aren’t the wishes a good thing?”

He held her close for a moment more before answering, though he didn’t let her go even then. “Because dragon magic is so unpredictable,” he explained softly. “Most of the time the wishes backfire - they only work the way you’d want them to in a very few instances.”

“Like Dad wishing he could talk to Wendell?”

“Yeah, that was one of the few times.”

“And whatever he did to the Murrays seems to be working ...”

“Well, it’s hard to say. We don’t know exactly what he wished for. What terms and conditions he may have set up.”

“Terms and conditions? You make it sound like a contract.”

“Oh, it is.”

The words sent a chill down her spine. What, exactly, had her father gotten into? She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know - no, she knew she didn’t want to know - but sticking her head in the sand wouldn’t make whatever he had done go away. She took a deep breath.

“What kind of a contract?” she asked. The words stuck in her throat but she managed to get them out. “Does Dad owe anybody or anything something for those wishes now?”

“Oh, no,” said Wolf, understanding her immediately. “Nothing like that. I only meant the wishes are granted to the exact letter of the wish as stated. Never to the spirit of the wish. Well, hardly ever, at least. And there’s absolutely no way to tell beforehand whether or not you’ll be pleased with the results. In fact, it’s almost like they have their own agenda.”

She thought for a moment.

“Well,” she hypothesized, “Maybe if you were very, very careful about how you stated the wish? So there wasn’t any room for doubt about what you wanted?”

“People have tried that. It doesn’t do any good.”

“But ...”

“Virginia ...” Where he held her, she felt the pressure from his arms increase and his hands tighten. “You don’t want to swallow one. Even if it worked right, dragon magic is very powerful. Too powerful, really, for people to handle - it’s a terrible strain on their systems.”

She gave him what she called ‘the look,’ figuring he was simply being protective because he thought she was pregnant. Not that, in this kind of instance, he shouldn’t be if it turned out that she really was ...

He reacted to her stare by looking her straight in the eyes and saying, “It makes you throw up for a minimum of three hours right after you swallow it.”

Oh, she thought. Nevermind. Out loud, she said, “Did you tell Dad this?”

More guilt. Apparently not. Time to change the subject, she thought. Sort of. “You keep saying dragon magic. What does it have to do with dragons?”

He relaxed a bit.

“It’s a dragon dung bean,” he told her. “There’s a particular kind of plant that dragons like to eat, only they can’t digest the seeds.”

He can’t mean what I think he means, she thought.

“I don’t know how it works or anything,” he went on, “But somehow, on the way through the dragon’s system, the seeds pick up some of the magic from ...”

“Never mind,” she said. “I don’t want to know.”

Although she already did.

Mrs. Murray was waiting for them at the entrance to the building. She was a tall, attractive blonde at least fifteen years younger than her husband. Virginia had always wondered if their marriage had been a ‘society alliance,' and if that was that kind of thing her mother had rebelled against when she'd run off and eloped with her father.

Well, I'll never know now, she thought, wishing she hadn't recalled that comparison as she fought a sudden rush of tears.

"Miss Lewis!" Mrs. Murray exclaimed, rushing up to them. "How delightful to see you again!" The bizarre concept of Mrs. Murray being delighted to see her immediately drove all thoughts of her mother out of Virginia's head. She was too accustomed to being looked down upon from the woman's lofty heights, both literally and figuratively.

"Hello, Mrs. Murray," she said tentatively.

"Oh, you must call me Linda," said the woman. "It just wouldn't do for you to refer to me in such a formal manner. And is this your fiancé, Mr. Wolfe?"

"Yes, he is."

Wolf smiled and held out his hand. Linda looked somewhat scandalized, but accepted his hand and shook it, with a single, subservient nod of her head.

"It's so terribly disappointing that Mr. Lewis couldn't have joined you as well," she said, returning her attention to Virginia, "But Bob explained the circumstances. You have our deepest sympathy." She hesitated for a fraction of a second, her eyes searching the space behind them, then asked hopefully, "He hasn't managed to join you since you spoke with Bob, by any chance, has he?"

"No, sorry, he hasn't," Virginia told her, then found she had to get right in the woman's face and tell her again, as she had with Murray. What in the world had her father actually wished for? But Linda was quite helpful after that - introducing them to the doorman, providing them both with keys, and explaining the operation of the elevator. Her ingenious introduction to the building, uttered in a lobby containing several apparently quite rich tenants, of "This place is so much better cared for than our building!" nearly made her choke.

Once inside the penthouse, however, Virginia was somewhat disconcerted to find six more people waiting for them. Where are they coming from? she wondered. Linda introduced them quickly: Justine, Larry, Edna, Joe, Mary, and Roger. Oh, yeah, Virginia thought, she'd remember that. One of them (was it Justine?) again asked if she was sure her father hadn't been able to join her yet. But even though she answered no, although they all seemed terribly disappointed, they treated her and Wolf with excruciating politeness.

"We took the liberty of having the apartment decorated for Mr. Lewis," explained Linda, "So he'd have an appropriately elegant place to come home to. It's Sidney Vale!" - she gestured expansively, making Virginia wonder for a moment if someone else was going to appear - "He's the absolute rage these days, but if Mr. Lewis is not happy with the result, of course everything can be redone immediately."

Virginia noted that Sidney Vale was extremely partial to potted plants and the color white. "Um, did you get rid of all our other stuff?" she asked.

"Oh, heavens, no," was the reply. "It wouldn't be our place to do that. All that junk is in the storage room in the basement."

Virginia nodded.

"But - and I hope you don't mind us taking the liberty - we did transfer all the personal belongings into the new pieces," Linda went on. "And you'll find the clothes in the closets. We understand that it's simply not possible to purchase a gentleman's wardrobe without a proper fitting."

She continued on introducing them to the penthouse, taking them on a detailed tour of every room, replete with testimonials from the staff about how they took so much pride in keeping everything spotless and in perfect operating condition. Eventually they got to the kitchen.

"Ohhhh ..." squealed Wolf softly, unable to completely contain himself at the sight. "Huff, puff!" Virginia squeezed his hand and elbowed him in the ribs. He looked at her with a pained expression.

The room was outfitted in stainless steel for professional food service, complete with restaurant-sized appliances, including a walk-in refrigerator. Two of the staff, a man and a woman - Virginia could no longer even recall what names Linda had reeled off, much less who these two in particular were - had donned aprons and were waiting there expectantly.

"We've stocked all the ingredients for the most popular dishes," said the man.

"What would you like us to prepare for you?" asked the woman.

"Rack of lamb, delicately seasoned with fresh rosemary and garlic, and then flashed in a very hot fire for exactly seven seconds," ordered Wolf before Virginia could stop him.

"Wolf!!!!" she exclaimed.

"Make sure the time is precisely accurate," he added.

"You just ate!"

He looked at her, surprised.

"But Virginia, that was nearly two hours ago," he told her.

It was too late to stop them, anyway, she realized. At his first words, they'd bounded into action. At least he likes his meat rare, so it won't take very long to cook, she thought.

They spent the remainder of the time before the meal being shown the Master's bedroom, briefly, and then Virginia's. The youngest of the female staff smiled and curtseyed to her.

"I'm going to be your personal maid," she announced.

"Um ... that's very sweet of you but I really don't need a personal maid," said Virginia. She'd had one forced on her at Wendell's palace. Fortunately, the girl, Emma, had understood, but they'd still had to spend some time arranging it so that she wouldn't get in trouble for neglecting her duties. Here she had no intention of going along with such a thing at all, as she was certain this one would be less accommodating.

"Oh, the daughter of Mr. Lewis should not be without one," the girl insisted, confirming her worst fears.

"I don't want one," repeated Virginia more firmly.

"That is very irresponsible!" scolded the girl. "It doesn't matter what you do or don't want. It's what's best for Mr. Lewis that matters!" Her voice softened a bit as she continued, "We do have someone to act as valet for your fiancé. ------ Roger!!!!" she called.

"NO!" cried Wolf. "No, I don't want a valet, either!"

A young man appeared.

"At your service, sir," he said.

"Oh, um ... thank you, but ... I don't really need a valet!" said Wolf, glancing helplessly at Virginia. "I didn't even bring a change of clothes!"

Roger appeared slightly shocked by the statement, but quickly recovered.

"That's all right, sir," he said, "I'd be honored to call the tailor for you. I'm certain he could be here just after your meal to take your measurements."

Wolf looked absolutely aghast, his mouth open, his eyes huge and round. Virginia bit her lip, imagining what the tailor would make of his tail: A little extra room here, a little tuck over there ... In a way he sort of deserved it, she thought - he'd been the one to provide her father with the magic bean (she refused to even think about what it could be called otherwise), so it seemed only right that he should have to suffer some of the consequences. The whole scene would have been laughable except that she was in virtually the same predicament. And it would do neither of them good in the long run for Wolf to be discovered for what he was. She could just envision the headlines of the Enquirer or the Star: Wolf-Man Discovered in New York, Has Furry Tail! No, she thought, she had to put a stop to this, fast. "Excuse me!" she said loudly, to get their attention. "Did my father specifically state that my fiancé or I were to have personal servants?"

Abruptly, the girl paused in a glassy-eyed stare, though only for a moment. Finally she said, "No, but ..."

"No buts!" Virginia insisted. "If my father insists on us having personal servants when he returns, then we will be sure to ask for the two of you. But until then, we do not want servants! Is that clear?"

"Well ..."

"Dismissed!" she ordered, thinking God, I hope this works.

Fortunately, it did. But the same tactics did not work so well when it came time for Virginia to shoo them all out of the apartment.

"Oh, but we have to keep everything spotless for when Mr. Lewis returns!" Linda informed them. Virginia had rather expected something like this, the way they'd all hovered over her and Wolf while he'd eaten the lamb he'd asked for. Every time one of them would pick up a glass, someone would wipe away the moisture it left on the table, and every time Wolf put down his knife, someone would take it away and give him a clean one. She'd half expected them to start washing his plate before he'd finished eating. As it was, they ran the vacuum under the table the moment the dishes had been cleared, even though neither of them had dropped anything, bumping aside their feet in their enthusiasm.

Finally, though, she managed to convince them that her father wouldn't be returning for at least a week, so they could come back then and clean up any mess she and Wolf might make. She'd rather have had them come back when she called them, but it was hard enough getting Linda to agree to the week.

Virginia closed the door behind them, sighed heavily and leaned her head against it. It was only late afternoon and already she felt exhausted. She bit her lip and fastened the locks quickly, although she figured it would do little good against the Murrays, then turned around. Wolf was standing just behind her, closer than she'd thought. He was smiling at her with that private, slightly shy smile she'd first seen in the swamp. As he touched her face, she decided that she wasn't really all that tired after all.