The Queen and the Ace. Is that what we are?
Maybe.
The valley was home again. Amelia was back home.
They both sat in the grass on a lazy summer day, taking in the warmth and not worrying too much about anything.
Amelia looked at him. “Do you have any more old enemies with deadly grudges you’d like to tell me about?”
“Honestly, I wasn’t expecting this one.”
“You must never again mock me for spending so much time on magical protections.”
“Never again,” he agreed. But it had been the gunshot that almost killed them this time, and what did she propose to do about that?
She grew pensive, uncertain. He thought he knew what was troubling her. Hell, they shared a brain, how could he not know everything about her? Maybe those hidden parts, what they couldn’t know about each other—that was what kept this interesting.
“What is it?” he prompted.
“Did you know? Could you guess what had happened, that she aimed for you and struck me instead, with that trap?”
“I knew it must have been something like that. She was shocked to see me walking around. She thought she’d left me for dead.”
“Yes, I think I know when that happened. We had. . .some sort of connection. Nothing like what you and I have, but she could sense me. I could push her.”
“I noticed.”
All in a rush she said, “You could have left me. You could have walked away. Your mind, your body could have been your own again. I know I have been a burden to you, and you were free at last—”
He got up from his spot and settled on the ground next to her. Right next to her. He moved with the intention of getting her to stop talking.
“But you didn’t walk away. . .” she continued. “You came back for me.”
He took her hand, which was just a little chilled, and maybe even trembling. He touched her chin. Leaned in, waiting for her to pull away. Expecting her to. But she didn’t, so he kissed her. Realized he’d been wanting to do that a very long time, just to see if he could.
She put her arms around him and kissed him back. The touch was a spark that shocked them both. They lay back together, cradled on the grass. Clinging to him, she pressed her head to his shoulder. Here, he wasn’t injured.
“I can feel you,” she whispered. “I don’t have a body, I am not real, how can we feel this?”
He rested his chin on her head. She tucked so neatly in his arms. “I don’t know.”
“Sensation is a response to stimuli detected by the brain. We can’t simply be telling our brains that we feel this—”
He could smell her hair, a scent like wheat in sunshine. It shouldn’t have been possible, but there it was. “I don’t know anything at all.”
“You came back for me,” she said again.
“You could have kicked me out of my own body, but you didn’t.”
“I would never.”
He held her close. “Neither would I.”
The valley wasn’t real. It wasn’t. But maybe it meant something that they imagined it together. The sunlight was warm, and Amelia felt solid enough in his arms. He wouldn’t ask questions.
Suddenly, she sat up on an elbow and looked down at him. “Might we go see the bison in Custer State Park on our way home? And Mt. Rushmore, we must see Mt. Rushmore.”
He hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. They’d probably need to get a ride home with Ben, which meant coming back for the Jeep, or towing it, or something. He didn’t want to think about it. He just wanted to be. “Didn’t we see bison when we went to Yellowstone a year or so back?”