Midnight Soul (37 page)

This I could live with because everyone knew,
if something was aesthetically pleasing, that was all that
mattered.

What was most concerning was the location of
the hem, this being at my upper thigh.

Yes.

My
upper thigh
.

Everything beyond was exposed.

Bare
.

I could be risqué. I could even take that to
extremes. In fact, there was a time I enjoyed taking it to extremes
and reveling in the reactions that would get. And I had not been
out in society for some months but I had a feeling that was a part
of me that had not changed.

But this was outlandish.

Indeed, there was a good possibility that
when I walked, the flaps of the short coatdress would fan out and
show
everything
.

A woman had to have
some
mystery, most
assuredly.
That
mystery particularly.

And this could not be so different in the
other world. If that was the case, surely Valentine or Noc would
have told me.

Even generally, I was not a woman to hide her
charms. Because of this, the plunging neckline of the long-sleeved
dress did not concern me. And I was not a woman who had a problem
with adding flair. Therefore, the peculiar belt that seemed made of
shiny gold I liked quite a lot.

But I had never in my life exposed my legs as
such to anyone but a lover.

And this did not get into the shoes.

They were like Josette’s in the sense that
they, too, were constructed of a very small number of straps
(precisely, three). One across the toes that was somewhat wide. Two
that came up from the sides of the heel and wrapped around my
ankle, those being exceptionally dainty.

They were also shiny gold, which was
lovely.

But the heel included a golden spike at the
bottom back that was elegant to gaze upon, but it had to be at
least four inches tall, therefore standing upon them forced me to
my toes.

Needless to say, walking was nigh on
impossible.

However, it explained Noc’s statement about
“spiked heels” from many months before.

Indeed it explained it
literally
.

One could not deny (and I myself had admired
just this in the full-length mirror) that the dress did wonderful
things for my figure and the shoes did miraculous things to my legs
(and bum).

But what would Noc think of me, seeing me in
such attire?

And what would he think when I took one step
toward him and fell flat on my face?

“How are you going to walk on those
shoes
?” Josette cried my thoughts out loud, injecting a
goodly dose of the concern I myself felt in each word.

“Carefully,” I answered.

“I can imagine,” Josette muttered, still
staring at the shoes. “Though, they’re very pretty. But I can’t
imagine other-world women walk about on them much. Instead, they
must sit and have them gazed upon admiringly, don’t you think?”

What I thought was, to get to any seat one
had to walk on them. So although I very much wanted off my feet at
that moment, I, and any woman wearing such footwear, was out of
luck when the necessity arose to ambulate.

“Do tell me you’ve practiced walking,
Franka,” Valentine said. “We’re set to leave soon. Noc is already
at your appointed meeting place, waiting.”

My body jolted because my heart leaped so at
her words I feared it had torn right out of my chest.

“I’ve practiced,” I replied and took a step,
then another to show her.

I’d gotten quite good at balancing while
standing. And I was becoming adept at slow steps.

A natural gait would take some doing. Much
longer than the time I had.

It might take days.

Or weeks.

Though I would prefer to wear what I was used
to, superb quality slippers, and not wear those kind of shoes at
all.

Suffice it to say, for myself and for
Josette, we should have requested other-world garments and footwear
some time ago so we could become accustomed to them.

It was too late for that now.

“Well, practice some more,” Valentine
ordered. “I’m taking Josette and I’ll come back for you.”

“What?” Josette asked on a whirl from facing
me to doing the same with Valentine.

“I beg your pardon?” I queried on narrowed
eyes.

“I’m taking Josette to my home. She can
settle in. I’ll come back for you as you’ll be going somewhere else
and at that somewhere else, Noc wants only you,” Valentine
replied.

Noc wanted only me.

My belly clenched.

“No offense,
chérie
,” she said to
Josette. “But you’re not invited to their reunion.”

“That’s quite all right!” Josette chirped, no
longer showing concern we’d be separated upon entry to this
parallel universe and turning bright eyes to me.

“Circe is coming around to take Josette out
to dinner,” Valentine carried on. “This while I finish up some of
my own business here and make my final return home. Then, of
course, I’ll be around should she need anything.”

I wanted to see Noc. I wanted to see a Noc
that didn’t invite Josette to our “reunion.” I missed him and had
been waiting for months to see him again and now that wait was
over.

But I
needed
to see to Josette.

“I think it’s best if Josette and I travel
together and stay together, at least for a time,” I informed
Valentine. “When we both become accustomed to getting around in our
new world, then we can go off and do things alone.”

“Nonononono,” Josette said swiftly, shaking
her head in a negative to strengthen her words. “I’ll be just
fine.”

“See,” Valentine lazily swung her hand
Josette’s way. “She’ll be fine.”

I looked to Josette. “My dear, this is our
adventure, and I’ll emphasize the
our
in that statement.
It’s my responsibility to look out for you. I can’t leave you to
your own devices the instant you get there.”

“Mistress Valentine is taking care of me,”
Josette replied.

“Indeed I am, and it’s all sorted,” Valentine
added, quite definite about that, and I knew she was as she lifted
her hands, and without delay, the room started to turn green.

I knew what that meant.

I took a step toward her. “Sister, this needs
to be discussed. Josette is my charge and—”

“Practice on those heels, Franka,” Valentine
cut me off to advise. “You have fifteen minutes to make certain you
don’t take an embarrassing tumble the first time you see
Noctorno.”

The very thought of that arrested me and the
workings of my mind for a moment before I realized the room was
becoming greener and I needed to act with haste.

I lifted my own hands, certain there was no
way to beat Valentine’s magic, but I had to try…for Josette.

“Valentine, listen to me…” I began as clouds
of blue started swirling through the green.

“I’ll be fine,” Josette promised.

Valentine stepped closer to her.

I ignored her. “Valentine—”

She smiled her smile that
I
had
perfected (back in the day).

And then she and Josette disappeared, the
green drifted away and there was nothing but the floating clouds of
blue that had no purpose for I’d called them up to beat back the
green and that magic, as well as Valentine and Josette, were
gone.

I dropped my hands and the clouds
vanished.

“Blast!” I snapped, too loudly. “Blast,” I
whispered, my eyes darting to the door in hopes it didn’t open.

I’d already said my farewells to my brother,
sister and nephews. These were not moments I relished, at the same
time I knew I would never forget them and the warmth and love they
communicated.

But during them, Kristian and Brikitta shared
they were worried about my upcoming adventure. Previously they both
were all for this it, but now that the time had come, they were
getting cold feet. Especially when they learned communication
between worlds could be difficult.

If Kristian heard aught amiss—say me
shouting, “Blast!”—he’d come running, even more concerned, and I
didn’t want to have to say farewell to him all over again.

Once was enough.

Noc had been right.

Goodbyes sucked.

It would be worse if my brother saw me in
this dress.

He might not allow me to go at all (though
he’d have a time of it stopping Valentine from doing anything—the
woman, I’d found, was a force of nature, literally).

Annoyed at Valentine, but knowing she was
correct, I did not want to take a tumble in front of Noc, I started
walking tentatively again in those beautiful but bloody
uncomfortable (and dangerous) shoes.

I found to my distress (and some shame) that
as the minutes passed and I moved around in those shoes, not only
did my feet hurt more and more, but I thought less and less of
Josette, what she was now experiencing and the fact I was not
experiencing it with her as we both had thought we would.

No, I thought more and more of seeing Noc
again.

With me in this dress.

And these shoes.

And just seeing…
him
.

I shook my hands feeling my palms perspiring
as I tried a faster pace, finding my footing.

Damp palms due to fretfulness.

Unthinkable.

Ah, but what had happened to the Franka
Drakkar I once knew?

You do know the answer to that
,
Antoine noted in my head.

I stopped dead.

I hadn’t heard him in months. Even before Noc
left me. Definitely not after.

She never actually existed
, Antoine’s
voice carried on.
A part you played,
mon ange,
beautifully. But you’ve quite literally taken off the costume
and face paint, put on new, and are now ready for a different role.
The role, to be banal, of a lifetime. The role of you just
being
…
you.

I turned my head and saw myself in the
mirror.

Was that me, the woman with her hair flowing
unhindered, her cheeks pink with excitement (and what Valentine
said in her world was fittingly called “blush”), her eyes bright
with nervousness, her breaths coming fast from anticipation?

I always loved your legs
, Antoine
murmured.

“
Mon cœur
,” I whispered.

Farewell, my Franka. I’d bid you be happy,
but I don’t need to.

“Why?” I asked.

You’ll see
.

Those simple words made a tickle run down my
spine.

He said no more.

“Antoine?” I called.

He didn’t speak to me, and in my soul I knew
he never again would.

“Antoine,” I whispered, feeling not-so-oddly
pleased the last I heard of his voice, he sounded happy.

But mostly I felt uncertain that I was facing
my greatest adventure and in doing so had long since let him go and
was moving on.

That greatest adventure was not going to a
parallel universe where women were referred to as infants (of a
variety of species) and wore death-defying shoes.

That adventure was living life from that
point on simply as me.

Franka Drakkar.

A woman prone to generosity (even if I had to
force it on those who were stubbornly opposed to it), outgoingness
and sociability.

And also a woman who was a practicing
witch.

On this thought, the room filled with
green.

I turned to where I sensed her joining me and
Valentine appeared right there.

She cocked her head to the side. “Ready?”

I was.

And I was not.

“How odd would I seem if I went to your new
world in my own attire?” I queried.

“Nothing is odd in New Orleans,” she
answered. “This is one of the vast number of reasons it’s the
greatest city in my world…or yours.”

“Then I—”

“Rubbish,” she stated before I could even
finish my thought, lifting her hands, the green of her magic
returning.

“Valentine,” I snapped.

“Come closer,
ma petite sorcière
.”

I came closer but repeated on a sharper snap,
“Valentine!”

She smiled again as I sensed the room
receding and then there was nothing but her magic shrouding us.

I did not find this alarming.

What I found alarming was her smile.

It was another one I’d perfected many years
ago.

And it was the one I’d indulge in when a fine
bit of conniving was about to come gloriously to fruition.

“What have you done?” I demanded to know.

I got no answer.

Instead, suddenly, I had earth beneath my
feet, bright lights, loud noise and movement everywhere, and I was
experiencing an odor so foul, it would have turned my stomach.

It did not because it did not have my
focus.

My focus was on the fact that Valentine had
gone.

And right in front of me, Noc was
standing.

I stared up in his extraordinary blue eyes
and watched his head jerk in surprise at my abrupt appearance.

My.

He was right there.

Right there
.

An inch away.

So
there
, I’d barely have to sway and
I’d brush against him.

“Frannie,” he whispered, saying the name he
gave me with unhidden affection and relief.

Bloody hell!

I was going to burst into tears.

“Noc,” I forced out.

“Frannie,” he repeated.

Yes. Drat it all!

I was going to start weeping within moments
of starting my grand adventure!

Bloody
Noc
.

Slowly, his lips formed one of the grins I so
adored and he raised a hand. In it were long strings of shiny
beads, gold, purple and green. He lifted them over my head and
settled them around my neck.

They appeared like they’d be heavy, but as
his hands moved away, leaving them behind, they were light.

Light and bright and festive.