The Fire and the Fog Read Free Page A

sweeping his lute case out to the side as if it were a
fancy hat to be flourished.  ‘I shall of course endeavor
to…’  Gel began, and was quickly cut off by an exasperated ‘Oh
shut it’ from Mae.
    ‘Now hurry up and sit down, stupid’ Mae
snapped as she herself sat down next to Sheane, leaning back on her
arms, her legs stretched out in front of her rather than tucked
underneath her skirts like her sisters.  ‘Sheane won’t give me
any tea till you sit down, so hurry up, stupid boy.’
    Gel couldn’t help but grin as he sat down
across from the girls.  For twins, the two had certainly come
out differently.  Both were beautiful, of course. 
Neither girl could be called skinny, but their exteriors were well
rounded, and very well proportioned.  Flowing golden hair came
down to the mid-back on Sheane, while it barely covered Mae’s
shoulders, but in both cases the wavy golden locks framed faces
that must have been stolen from angels; or possibly cherubs,
whichever looked better.  Sheane had filled out more than Mae
so far too, but both had legs to die for, from the glimpses Gel had
managed to steal so far.  And he very much enjoyed stealing
glimpses.
    Gel shook his head quickly as he sat down, to
stop his mind going down that path yet again.  Suffice to say,
the girls were gorgeous.  And somehow they were Gel’s best
friends.
    ‘It doesn’t work if you call me stupid twice
in a row, Mae’ Gel said, setting his lute case down gently beside
him as he crossed his legs. 
    Mae stuck out her tongue while Sheane smiled
silently, and began to prepare the promised tea, her back straight,
her bearing demure. 
    Sheane had a basket beside her from which she
pulled delicately painted porcelain cups and saucers, as well as a
flagon of what Gel assumed would be well-chilled tea.  Gel
knew that there would be goodies in the basket as well; cookies,
muffins, possibly pastries, or maybe little tiny triangular
sandwiches and, while he couldn’t wait to try them, he wondered, as
always, how Sheane managed to pack the basket so full of snacks and
drinks and cups, and never break a one.  Sheane was a perfect
lady, that’s all there was to it.
    Mae, on the other hand, sat leaning back with
her hands in the grass, and she had already started to tear out
clumps of the stuff, most likely to dump on Gel’s head, or down his
shirt, at some point during the day.  She did so frequently
and, though he fought back, Gel always managed to wind up on the
losing side.
    Quickly, and more in an effort to stave off
any grass attacks from Mae than any urgent need to play, Gel leaned
over and began to remove his lute from its case. 
    ‘I wrote you a song on the walk over’ he said
as he made small adjustments to the lute’s tuning pegs, tuning by
ear and instinct.
    ‘Wrote who a song?’ Mae questioned excitedly
as she sat up, her small hands still clutching at wads of grass,
and leaned forward, hugging her knees to her chest.
    Gel sighed slightly as he finished his
tuning.  Sheane had sat forward excitedly at the prospect of a
song as well, and she sat absently holding a cup of tea out to the
side for her sister, her excitement-filled eyes a perfectly blue
match for her sisters, both fixed on Gel.
    They were both so beautiful.  Eyes like
sapphires surrounded by fields of golden-wheat hair.  Gel
didn’t really like that metaphor, but he smiled absently anyway,
already knowing what their reactions would be.
    ‘Can’t it be for both of you?’ he asked,
trying to inject his words with as much feigned innocence as
possible, eyes wide in what he hoped was an endearing
look. 
    Sheane smiled and nodded, her head moving in
small, quick jerks of assent, just as Mae spoke out vehemently.
    ‘No!  Pick one of us.’  Just as Gel
knew she would.  Mae always competed with Sheane, and Sheane
always deferred to Mae.  It was funny, really, but it always
made Gel feel even worse about choosing just one of the
sisters.
    ‘Fine’ Gel