Need to catch up?<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Though she retained her composure until she left Johnson\u2019s office, Fiona\u2019s legs wobbled like, well, a newborn foal\u2019s the moment the doors closed behind her. She groaned inwardly at the comparison and took a moment to catch her breath.<\/span><\/p>\n Had she done it? Had she really fooled him into believing she was there for the good of his company? His cause?<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span>But you do believe in his cause,<\/span><\/i> she reminded herself. She hadn\u2019t spoken a word of a lie to him, but sharing a common goal wasn\u2019t justification for her subterfuge. It was just another layer of cover. No matter how much good she might contribute to the preservation of the planet, she was still a liar.<\/span><\/p>\n And he was\u2026he was\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n Maybe if her new boss would have appeared in his true form, he wouldn\u2019t have been so unnervingly attractive.<\/span><\/p>\n She\u2019d seen centaurs before. On the street, TV, even fashion shows. The fact that Mr. Johnson had met her on two legs had almost been more disconcerting than the sight of a human torso on a horse\u2019s body.<\/span><\/p>\n Um, yikes.<\/span><\/i> Her brain screeched. Describing a centaur that way was beyond offensive. It sounded like something her father would have said. Besides, it hadn\u2019t been just her boss\u2019s body that had affected her so, though the spell on him had been exceedingly kind. Even in his true form, the strong features of his profile would have been enough to catch her eye. He didn\u2019t look any CEO she\u2019d ever met before. His dark brows seemed perpetually pulled down in concern. His short, dark hair had a slight wave to it that had made her fingers ache to run through it. And she did not often ache for a man on sight.<\/span><\/p>\n Not a man, <\/span><\/i>she reminded herself as she wandered the claustrophobic labyrinth of hallways. <\/span>At least, not a human man.<\/span><\/i> And that involved a lot of complicated thoughts she didn\u2019t need to explore at work, about her brother\u2019s mortal enemy.<\/span><\/p>\n What if I went back in and told Mr. Johnson the truth?<\/span><\/i> She didn\u2019t have any particular loyalty to her brother. He wanted to keep on destroying the planet and exploiting the astrals to clean up his industrial messes. It was more appealing to be on the right side. Johnson\u2019s side.<\/span><\/p>\n Word would get back to Blayde. It would always get back to him. And Larkin would face the consequences.<\/span><\/p>\n The rumors that had dogged their friendship for years had never bothered Fiona, in part because they\u2019d been somewhat true. Though she\u2019d never gone public, she and Larkin had dated, for a time, but pixies didn\u2019t understand the meaning of going slow. Their incompatible sexual boundaries hadn\u2019t gotten in the way of maintaining a close platonic relationship.<\/span><\/p>\n Then came the addiction. The scandals. The passing out in the gutter outside a sex club. If their relationship had been romantic for much longer, their friendship would not have survived. Blayde accused Fiona of attempting to cultivate a goody-goody image, but the truth was that after a lifetime in a family that craved the political spotlight, she didn\u2019t want the tabloid spotlight, as well. It was more difficult to avoid. She supposed helping Larkin helped her, too.<\/span><\/p>\n Maybe that\u2019s the only reason you\u2019re doing it.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n No. Larkin had already been warned that her label no longer felt their investment in her work was safe. Why mount a world-wide tour for someone who would miss half the dates while she hopped in and out of rehab? And the old adage about all publicity being good publicity wasn\u2019t true; fans and tastemakers had tired of Larkin\u2019s misadventures.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cMs. Star?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n How long had she been standing there, one hand on the wall to regain her stability? The faun who\u2019d introduced himself as Mr. Hobb during her HR appointment approached warily, his serious face taking on an extra layer of concern.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m so sorry,\u201d she began, wondering if her tone struck him as suspicious. \u201cI think I stumbled over something.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThese halls are so winding and similar, I\u2019ve gotten dizzy in them a time or two.\u201d He put his hands behind his back and rocked a bit on his cloven hooves. \u201cMay I help you find your way?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThank you. Mr. Johnson told me to go back to HR for an I.D.\u2014\u201d <\/span>Oh no.<\/span><\/i> Some newer cameras removed glamours in their images. Trasket owned the patent; all their surveillance equipment utilized the technology. What were the chances that a major company like the Chiron Corporation would have similar devices?<\/span><\/p>\n Of course, astrals didn\u2019t have the prejudice and fear of magic that her brother did. They probably didn\u2019t care about glamours.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cRight this way,\u201d Mr. Hobb said and gestured down the hall behind him. \u201cSo, Mr. Johnson put you on bioluminescence.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Was the faun impressed? \u201cYes…is that a good thing? I hope?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n He shrugged his thin shoulders. \u201cAny opportunity is what you make of it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s very profound.\u201d It was also a phrase she\u2019d heard often from her father, both at home to shame his children and in his public statements about poverty.<\/span><\/p>\n Mr. Hobb knew. He couldn\u2019t have used the phrase accidentally.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not mine,\u201d he admitted. \u201cI must have heard it somewhere.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n She gave him her most guileless smile. Though her brother might accuse her of being too good, Fiona was still a Trasket. Lying was in her DNA. \u201cWell, I\u2019ll be sure to remember it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Though she had just come from the human resources department, she couldn\u2019t have found her way back without Mr. Hobb\u2019s help. She breathed a sigh of relief as they reached the door. \u201cThis is my stop.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n The faun blinked at her.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a human expression. About public transportation.\u201d Not that she had ever used public transportation even once in her entire life.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAh. Astral humor is…less micro-observational. Humans joke about oddities in daily, unquestioned occurrences, whereas fauns, for example, find humor in the age of the cosmos and the unchained, malicious whimsy of fate.\u201d He paused. \u201cWe also find flatulence quite amusing.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Fiona pointed to the door. \u201cI\u2019m going to go inside.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Mr. Hobb bowed at the waist. \u201cIt was a pleasure to be of assistance.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n The human resources department was an octagonal room with doors on all sides. <\/span>Not at all confusing<\/span><\/i>. Fiona picked the one labeled \u201cNew Hire.\u201d Inside, she filled out form after form on their nearly-obsolete tablet. A middle-aged human woman took Fiona\u2019s company photo\u2014without any glamour-related snafus\u2014and issued her a company handbook data chip and an identification card with a silvery holosigil.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThis is compatible with all warded doors of a level four or less,\u201d the woman explained cheerfully. \u201cBioluminescence is on the seventh floor, wing b. Now, that\u2019s a liminal floor, so you\u2019ll have to present your I.D. to the security system.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry, what\u2019s a liminal floor?\u201d Fiona asked.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s in a liminal space. It exists half on this plane and half in the astral.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n If Blayde knew of such a thing, Fiona would have heard about it. What her brother wouldn\u2019t give to know a place between the worlds existed.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAnd don\u2019t forget your sprite.\u201d The woman lifted her plump little hand and a ball of blue light rose from it. \u201cThe building is a little confusing. Just tell your sprite where you want to go and it will get you there.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cOh. Thank you. It <\/span>is <\/span><\/i>confusing,\u201d she agreed, eyeing the sprite warily.<\/span><\/p>\n The HR woman\u2019s rosy cheeks fell a little as her smile turned from professionally friendly to truly empathetic. \u201cIt\u2019s overwhelming to be a human suddenly thrust into their world. I understand. I was there in Central Park for the first veil tearing, and it was almost mind-altering. But for the most part, we\u2019re still so sheltered from each other\u2026\u201d She drifted off sadly. \u201cBy tomorrow, everything will seem a little less strange. And the next day, even less. And then it becomes the new reality.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Fiona didn\u2019t know how to respond. She followed the eager ball of light hovering near the door.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWelcome to your new reality,\u201d the woman called after her.<\/span><\/p>\n The unnerved feeling those words inspired haunted Fiona all the way to the elevators. The sprite bounced along happily, like an airborne, featureless puppy. Although, when she thought of it that way, it sounded a bit horrifying.<\/span><\/p>\n The elevator stopped and the screen above the buttons illuminated. A quick scan of her I.D. zipped the car upward. Just as her ears popped, the chime announced her arrival and the doors opened onto a world Fiona could never have imagined.<\/span><\/p>\n She stepped from the marble floor of the elevator and onto a pebbled path bordered by lush, green moss. Swirls of gleaming steel rose overhead in impossibly intricate arcs, dividing an iridescent bubble of ceiling into a pattern of prismatic domes. The path split into three and led off into a forest of unearthly willow trees with swaying, emerald-colored leaves.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou must be Flicka.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Fiona startled at the voice. A silver-tinted woman walked toward her across the moss, clad in what appeared to be a fur dress. Her long white hair cascaded down her back in soft tendrils. She offered her hand for a shake; a black claw topped each finger. \u201cSorry. I forget that mortals can be overwhelmed on their first trip to our floor. We\u2019re a little unconventional here. \u201cEalusaid. Director of bioluminescence.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cEalusaid,\u201d Fiona repeated, shaking the gray woman\u2019s hand. \u201cIs that your first name, your title…I\u2019m sorry, I don\u2019t mean to ask an offensive question\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Ealusaid held up one hand to stop her. \u201cSelkies only have one name. And we\u2019re very informal here.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThat will take some getting used to.\u201d Fiona laughed despite her nerves. \u201cI\u2019ve never worked for a company that\u2019s so…relaxed.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s why we\u2019re so successful. Happy workers are productive workers. Your human capitalism is designed to be its own worst enemy.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Fiona could only blink in response.<\/span><\/p>\n Ealusaid beamed. \u201cLet me show you to your office.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n It took Fiona a moment to get her feet working. The shock that such a place existed momentarily froze her to the spot. For one perfect instant, she forgot why she was there. That she would have to betray all this beauty.<\/span><\/p>\n The sprite followed Ealusaid down the path and into the forest of familiar, yet totally alien, vegetation.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWhat kind of trees are these?\u201d Fiona asked as they passed beneath a branch glistening with dew like diamonds.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThey\u2019re willows,\u201d Ealusaid explained. \u201cLiminal spaces do strange things to creatures who spend a lot of time in them. These trees would look exactly the same on the mortal plane as they would on the astral but existing between the two changes them.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n That sparked an alarm in Fiona\u2019s mind. \u201cWhat do you mean, it does strange things to creatures who spend a lot of time here? I\u2019m going to spend whole workdays here.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYes, and in a week or two, you\u2019ll notice the effects,\u201d Ealusaid stated as though it weren\u2019t the most horrific thing Fiona had ever contemplated.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cRight, but what kind of effects?\u201d she asked, a note of panic creeping into her voice.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cNothing major. We\u2019ve noticed slight telepathy, ability to communicate with the elements. The tiniest horns. Really, nothing to be alarmed about.\u201d The selkie stopped in front of one tree. \u201cHere we are. Your office.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a…tree.\u201d Fiona could almost hear her brother\u2019s sneering tone. <\/span>\u201cWell, isn\u2019t that quirky?\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n \u201cMore of a pod, really.\u201d Ealusaid motioned to the tree and the leaves drew back, revealing a snug space outfitted with a desk, chair, and computer, exactly as one would see in any office.<\/span><\/p>\n It was just that the walls were vibrant, gently throbbing vines.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou can log in with your badge,\u201d Ealusaid explained, gesturing to the computer. \u201cThe first thing you\u2019ll want to do is check your interoffice messenger app. Every morning, you\u2019ll find daily assignments and schedules there. Unfortunately, you\u2019re going to spend most of your day working through new hire questionnaires and videos about policy and procedure. But we do have a daily lunch meeting at around one, so feel free to join us in the conference pod.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Sure. I\u2019ll just…join you in the conference pod.<\/span><\/i> That was a completely normal thing to say.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cGreat. I\u2019ll just…sit down and get to it,\u201d Fiona said, with a little bounce on the balls of her feet to transform some of her nervous energy into feigned enthusiasm. The thought of being alone inside a tree unnerved her, but Ealusaid left her there, all the same, the vines zipping closed behind her.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cOkay.\u201d Fiona breathed, bracing her hands on her workstation. At least, something about the place was normal. If she\u2019d had to balance on a toadstool and type on a hollowed-out log or something, she would have officially backed out.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cBacked out of what?\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n The voice startled her and she scooted backward, nearly colliding with the wall of vines.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cBe careful!\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n \u201cWhat the fuck?\u201d The voice had clearly come from inside her head, reverb like water ripples surrounding every syllable.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re hiding something,\u201d<\/span><\/i> the voice whispered, sibilant and sinister. <\/span>\u201cWhat could it be\u2026 Trasket?\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n She sat up straight.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s an important word. Certainly got your attention.\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n \u201cW-who\u2019s there?\u201d she rasped.<\/span><\/p>\n The vines rustled, as if in a little dance.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d She shook her head. \u201cNot possible.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s possible. And I can do it to other creatures here. Even the other trees.\u201d<\/span><\/i> The tree seemed almost gleeful. <\/span>\u201cShould I keep that a secret? Trasket? I mustn\u2019t think it too loud\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n Was she being blackmailed by a tree?<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n A telepathic tree.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAlso, yes.\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n What the hell could it possibly want? It was a tree!<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cCandy.\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n A tree that wanted candy.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re blackmailing me…for candy.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cChocolate, preferably. If I\u2019m busy enjoying my candy, I might just forget the word \u2018Trasket\u2019 altogether.\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n Very slowly, Fiona put her head down on her desk.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Need to catch up? What is\u00a0The Business Centaur’s Virgin Temp? The Business Centaur’s Virgin Temp prologue The Business Centaur’s Virgin Temp chapter one<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":12761,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[283],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12818"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=12818"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12818\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12819,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12818\/revisions\/12819"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/12761"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=12818"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=12818"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jennytrout.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=12818"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}