Onboarding

The next night, Adrian waited patiently for Christine and Rhys. He'd invited them over to talk about their next move. A lot rested on whether or not he could convince them to go all in on this with him. He needed this to work.

A knock sounded on his front door. Adrian stood and opened it to find Christine waiting for him on the other side. He searched her face, but it was a mask. At least he didn't seem angry, he figured.

“Hey,” he told her. “Come on in.”

Christine shut the door behind herself and gave his apartment a once over, keeping any comments she might have had to herself.

“Have a seat,” Adrian offered. “You want anything? Coffee? Water?”

“Coffee would be nice.”

“Coming right up.”

Adrian busied himself with the coffee machine while Christine settled in.

“I want to revisit the idea of publishing my research,” Christine declared.

Adrian stifled a groan. Straight to business, like always. He picked his words carefully. “I’m not taking it off the table entirely, but we’ll need to discuss it later.”

“I don’t think you appreciate how important this is to me," she told him in a serious tone.

“I do,” he said sincerely, turning to lean against the counter as his coffee machine began to percolate. “When this is done we can have another conversation about it. If you still feel like it makes sense…I’ll hand over the book and let you do whatever you want with it.”

Adrian had no intention of following through on that promise; he was banking on the trip providing enough proof of what was really going on that Christine would see the wisdom in keeping things under wrap. If she still insisted on letting the world know about an ancient tome that summoned demons, he’d have to figure something else out.

“We’ve been ‘just a couple of meetings’ away from letting me do this for months now,” Christine insisted. “Forgive me if I don't believe you.”

“That’s what tonight is about,” he reassured her. “You’ll see.”

“Then let’s get into it. You said you tried the ritual. That it worked. Prove it.”

“Not yet,” he said. “We’re still waiting for someone.”

That perked Christine’s interest. “Who?”

“A guy named Rhys. He’s a coworker. I told you about him earlier. He’s involved too.”

“Well, when’s he supposed to get here?”

"Same time as you." Adrian checked the time and frowned. “He’s running late.”

Christine huffed and leaned back in her chair. The silence dragged on and Adrian began to grow uncomfortable, but Christine seemed content to sit and wait.

“So…what have you been up to?” he ventured.

“Trying to salvage my research proposal.” She said it matter-of-factly, not as a condemnation, but it still stung.

“I more meant like, hobbies or something.”

“I’m getting a PhD,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I don’t have hobbies.”

“Right,” Adrian nodded. So that hadn’t worked. The coffee machine beeped behind him and he took the opportunity to break away from the dying conversation. He had poured Christine’s cup when the second knock of the night sounded at the door. Adrian handed the coffee over and let Rhys in.

The boy stood there wearing what was quickly becoming his signature oversized hoody, looking uncomfortable in his own skin. Adrian stepped aside and let him pass, then quickly scanned the courtyard for prying eyes before he closed the door.

“Sorry I’m late,” Rhys told them bashfully. “I had to take the bus.”

“It’s fine,” said Adrian, although Christine looked annoyed. “Rhys, this is Christine. She’s an expert on the ancient Middle East.”

“I’m a candidate for a PhD in cultural anthropology specializing in Sumer,” she clarified.

“Right, like I said,” Adrian continued. “Christine, this is Rhys. He’s getting a degree in computers.”

“Robotics,” Rhys corrected automatically. “Are you at Marlinth?”

Christine nodded. “You too?”

“Yep. We have a good anthropology program right?”

“Best in the state,” Cristine said with pride.

“I don't mean to rush the introductions,” Adrian segued, "but we have a lot to talk about and not a lot of time to do it in." He sat down in one of the rickety wooden chairs at his table, letting Rhys take the love seat. “Here’s where we stand,” he continued in a firm voice. “Last Friday I made contact with an entity by the name of Araqiel. It heads a court of spirits with an interest in mortal affairs. I did this hoping for a cure to my disease. It offered me one, but only if I agreed to join as its knight. So that's what I did.

"However, the process is incomplete. I need to get my hands on an artifact before I can be fully vested in my position. And for that, I need help. I’m literally asking you to help me save my life.”

“Why us?” Christine asked.

A good question, and one he’d have to answer carefully. “Our translation of the ritual was incomplete.”

“I told you that,” Christine said pointedly.

“I was running out of time, I couldn't afford to wait any longer," Adrian defended himself. "The point is, we were missing some key details. Namely, that some of the people around me would be included in the deal. Araqiel refers to you as my…squires.

"Christine, you were the last person to tell me a secret: that you’d cheated on that test in undergrad. Rhys, you were the last person to give me a gift: that bag of chips from your lunch. Apparently, those were the criteria, so like it or not, we’re in this together.”

“Who are the others?” Rhys asked. “You said there were more?”

“Yeah. I don’t know them as well as you guys. I don’t know some of them at all really. There’s a cop who pulled me over, a barista I got coffee from a lot, a neighbor, and…someone I had a business deal with once.”

“Where are they now?” Rhys asked.

“Living their lives, I’d guess. Like I said, I don’t really know them.”

“If we can fix this quickly enough they might not ever need to know about it,” Rhys offered.

“Maybe,” Adrian dissembled. He knew that that probably wasn’t in the cards, but now was not the time to say so. He needed Rhys on his side, and that meant keeping alive the hope that the situation was reversible. Adrian would let the squires off the hook if he could, of course, but if it came to choosing between fixing their changes or curing himself, it wouldn’t be a hard choice.

“You know that this is insane, right?” Christine spoke up, looking deeply skeptical.

“I know how it sounds, but it's the truth.”

“I believe him,” Rhys said, turning to Christine. “After what I saw...” he shuddered. “This is something big.”

“Show me,” Christine said simply.

“What?” Rhys squeaked.

“I want to see.”

Rhys looked to Adrian for help, but Adrian didn’t offer any. If this is what Christine needed, then Rhys would need to take one for the team. “I’ll turn around,” was all Adrain said.

Seeing that he wasn't getting out of this, Rhys' face fell with shame. "Fine," he mumbled. "Just...be quick. Ok?"

Christine nodded and Adrian turned his back. He couldn't watch what was happening, but he heard the sound of Rhys lifting up his sweatshirt and Christine moving over to inspect. After a minute, Christine resettled and indicated that Adrian could look again. He turned to find Rhys looking mortified.

“I'll admit it’s unusual,” Christine conceded. “But not impossible. Gynecomastia happens.”

“You don’t understand,” Rhys protested. “I didn’t look like this until a few days ago! My body changed. I watched it happen.”

“Maybe your lymph nodes are inflamed,” Christine suggested.

“These aren’t lymph nodes!” Rhys insisted.

“Seems more likely than a demon,” Christine insisted, oblivious to Rhys’ growing distress.

“Let it alone,” Adrian intervened. “If you don’t believe me,” he asked, “then why are you here?”

Adrian caught a flush rise up Christine’s pale neck. She took a strand of her hair and worked at it between her teeth. “I’m willing to admit it’s possible. I’m not sure that it’s probable.”

She’d dodged the question, he noted, but he chose not to pry. Whatever the spirits had done to get her here, it probably wasn’t something she’d have been any happier to share than Rhys had been.

This would be a lot easier if he could just summon Araqiel and prove he was telling the truth. Unfortunately, it had been quite clear that he was not to disturb it until he'd retrieved the artifact, and Adrian was not willing to cross that line.

Another idea was to ask the whispers to act up. Sending them at Christine would be pretty hard evidence. Unfortunately, it would also show his hand. From what he'd heard from Rhys' story, the spirits had converged during his transformation. If Christine and Rhys thought that he had control over the spirits, they might blame him for the changes. It wasn't worth the risk.

With no better options, Adrian was **** to live with Christine's one-foot-out-the-door attitude. “I’ll take what I can get,” he said, “because this is a big ask.”

“What is?” Rhys piped up.

Adrian sighed. “We need to go to Scotland.”

“Not a chance,” Christine replied quickly.

“I can’t go to Scotland,” Rhys agreed.

“I need to get a cloak worn during the Gunpowder Plot, and it’s in Scotland, so that’s where we need to be too.”

“I can’t just leave my program,” Christine laughed. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“There’s no way my parents would let me go,” Rhys said.

“Your parents?” Christine asked. “How old are you?”

“Twenty two,” Rhys replied defensively.

Christine narrowed her eyes like she didn’t believe him, then turned to Adrian. “Why is he even here?”

Rhys stared at Adrian like he was wondering the same thing.

“He can help,” Adrian said. “Look, call in sick, say your grandmother passed, I don’t care. This shouldn’t take longer than a couple of days. I already bought the tickets.”

Christine gave another look around his apartment. “Three round-trip tickets to Scotland.”

“Yes,” Adrian said darkly. “Why?”

“It just doesn’t seem like you could afford it,” Christine answered.

Her bluntness took Adrian aback. “Add it to your pile of evidence then,” he spat. “Araqiel paid for it.”

“The demon buys plane tickets?” Christine chuckled.

“It...gave me something to sell for them. It doesn’t matter. You’re here right now because some part of you understands that however ridiculous it may seem, this is happening. You need to stop throwing up speedbumps and get on board. If we get back and you aren’t one hundred percent convinced, I’ll give you the book. Does that sound like a fair deal?”

Christine thought it over. “Fine. But I want it in writing.”

“Done.”

“I can’t just leave the country,” Rhys whined.

“Rhys, you’re an adult. Tell your parents you’re going on vacation.”

“I can’t just-“

“Yes. You can.”

Rhys fell silent.

“So let's say we do go to Scotland,” Christine said. “Then what?”

“Then the work begins. I know roughly where the cloak is, but we’ll need to track down its exact location.”

“Sounds like a needle in a haystack.” Christine didn’t sound confident.

“It may be,” Adrian admitted. “But there’s no other choice.

“I’ll start looking into it then,” Christine sighed. Adrian smiled; she wasn’t enthusiastic, but he knew he had her. “Maybe I can find someone who’s involved with 1600s England.”

“Good,” Adrian said. “It’s a start.”

“When do we leave?” Rhys asked.

“Two days from now,” Adrian answered. “Flight’s at ten. I’ll send you both the information.”

The meeting dragged on for a while longer, but the conversation was focused on logistical questions such as where they would stay and whether or not their passports were in order.

Adrian was in the middle of explaining their layover when he felt his muscles tense. "Oh shit."

"What's wrong?" Rhys asked.

Adrian didn't have time to answer. The cramping was already starting. He collapsed out of his chair and fell to the ground, hands clutching his thigh muscles.

Rhys raced over, concerned. "What's happening?"

Adrian waved him off, speaking through gritted teeth. "It's ok. It'll-."

His words were cut off by an intense spasm.

"What do I do?" Rhys seemed frantic and Adrian did not have the presence of mind to handle him just then.

Thankfully, Christine walked over and put a hand on Rhys' shoulder, pushing him back and giving Adrian some space. "Do you need anything?" she asked calmly.

"Pill bottle," Adrian gasped, pointing towards the counter.

Rhys rushed over to grab it, but Christine took it from his hand. "How many?" she asked.

"T-two," Adrian stuttered.

She measured them out and handed them over. Adrian dry swallowed them. They would eventually cut the attack short, but they didn't work instantly. In the meantime, Adrian had to deal with the pain on his own. His traitorous legs twitched uncontrollably, each muscle contraction sending shooting pain up his spine. Rhys watched on helplessly as Adrian's body contorted in agony; Christine's assessment was more muted.

In the end, it passed, like it always did. Adrian was breathing heavily and he ached everywhere. Too exhausted to pull himself back up into his chair, he scooted back up against the wall.

"So that's what you're trying to cure," Christine stated, her brow pushed down with the faint trace of compassion.

"Yeah," Adrian breathed.

"Does it happen a lot?" she asked.

"Used to be no. That's the second time this week though." He paused. "I'm getting worse."

Christine rummaged through his cabinets until she found a glass, then filled it in the sink and offered it to him. Adrian accepted it gladly.

Rhys was staring at him fearfully. "I'm fine now," Adrian told him. "You can calm down."

"It looked pretty bad," Rhys said.

"It's over."

Rhys didn't seem convinced, but Adrian was too busy working over his tired muscles to worry about anyone else. "I think we should call it a night," Adrian stated.

"We still have a few things to go over," Christine replied.

Adrian looked up at her from the floor. "I'm a little worn out," he said dryly. "I'll text you guys the rest."

"We're really doing this?" Rhys asked.

"I don't see us having much of a choice," Adrian answered.

They finished their goodbyes and, when his company had finally left, Adrian shuffled over to his bed and collapsed. He was spent, physically and emotionally.

He hated this, corralling other people. He’d never been good at working with others. He’d grown up alone and he’d stayed alone. Maybe there really was a way to cut the squires loose like Rhys wanted. If so, Adrian would jump at the opportunity. He’d have to bring it up with Araqiel.