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“Come on, we’re going to be late!” said Lyke. “You hate being late!”
“I only dislike being late to things I’m going to enjoy,” said Duvall, deliberately not walking faster.
“You will enjoy this,” said Lyke. “You love this stuff!”
“Spending an evening holding hands with a con artist in a dark room while they tell me some distant relative is trying to contact me from beyond the grave hardly sounds like my idea of a good time,” said Duvall.
Lyke huffed a breath, taking two steps backwards to be level with Duvall and quickly slipping his arm through Duvall’s, forcing Duvall to walk a little faster. Duvall was just being stubborn because it hadn’t been his idea, he practically lived neck-deep in books about spiritualism and the occult. Lyke thought that there couldn’t be that much difference in Duvall’s mind between books about ancient death rituals and a seance, surely.
“I don’t even know why you’re going to one of these things at all,” said Duvall. “Didn’t you just attend a seance earlier this week? How much more could the spirits really have to tell you?”
Lyke was glad that the cold weather meant his blush was hidden behind a thick scarf and the collar of his coat. “Yeah but you didn’t go to that one and I said I’d bring a friend next time.”
“Wonderful, so I could be scammed out of my money as well,” said Duvall.
“It’s not a scam!" said Lyke.
Duvall scoffed, but he did keep letting Lyke pull him along. Normally Lyke didn’t mind about being late to events, no matter how intimate or how specific the start time had been, but it felt rude to keep Es waiting.
He’d come across her services purely by chance, both of them in the sub-basement of some antique shop. They’d gotten to talking over old crates of sheet music and half-rusted candelabras, the dim gas lamps they were using for light making Es’ eye glow when she smiled. Her laughter had echoed off the stone walls, the most beautiful sound Lyke had ever heard, making his chest feel so light that he had to laugh too.
And so when Es had mentioned her line of work, and invited him around for that evening’s seance, why of course he’d said yes. There’d been other people in attendance, of course, no touching other than their hands as they gathered around the planchet of the ouija board. He’d felt sure that Es had been touching more of his hands than anyone else’s. He could still feel the phantom warmth of her hand at his elbow as they’d lingered by the door afterwards, long after the other guests had left, speaking simply to hear one another’s voices.
Es had mentioned, as the hour grew later and respectable reasons for his presence in her parlour grew slim, that she was hosting another seance later in the week, with a few spots available, if he had anyone who might benefit from such services.
“I’ll- You know, I actually have someone in mind who’d love this I’m sure, but he’s quite shy,” Lyke had said. “Would it be alright if I came again with him?”
He’d felt Es’ had flexed a little on his elbow, her body leaning towards his just slightly, only perceptible because of how focussed he was on her in that moment. Lyke felt his breath catch in his throat.
“Of course that would be alright Mr Lychen,” said Es. “I… It was a pleasure, having you here tonight. You were an incredibly… receptive presence.”
Lyke had floated home. He was still floating a little now, even as Duvall gave him an annoyed look, pulling his arm free of Lyke’s.
“Surely you don’t really believe you were in contact with some spirit,” scoffed Duvall.
Lyke shrugged. “Maybe. The universe is far more unknowable than modern science would have us believe.”
His words had the desired effect - Duvall spluttered, his cheeks flushed with anger and his steps hastening a little, as he always walked a little faster when he was annoyed. His irritation often came in bursts powerful enough to prevent real speech, always amusing to Lyke.
“Mr Chine agrees with me,” said Lyke. “If that goes any way to convince you.”
Duvall’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t see why it would.”
Lyke hummed, willing enough to play along with Duvall’s proclaimed ignorance. “He’ll be there tonight as well, you know. Perhaps he'll do a better job than I at convincing you to open your mind to such experiences.”
The flush in Duvall’s cheeks deepened. “I- Perhaps.”
Lyke grinned, reaching out to grab Duvall’s arm again as they reached the front steps of Es' home. “This is it! And-” He checked his pocket watch. “Five minutes to spare!”
The building itself was unremarkable, practically identical to the other houses in the row save for the small brass sign on the door: Lady Es: Spiritualist and Medium. Seances held twice weekly, for private sessions please enquire within.
“So we didn’t need to run all the way here,” muttered Duvall.
“Mr Chine seems the type to appreciate a windswept heroine,” said Lyke, climbing the small stone steps to pull on the heavy iron doorknocker.
Duvall made a strangled sound, quickly smoothing down his hair and tugging on his jacket as if to straighten it.
Mrs Marn Ancura answered the door, smiling up at Lyke and giving Duvall a polite but curious look. She was dressed similarly to when Lyke had seen her at the previous seance, her plain housedress made of a sturdier fabric than was fashionable, a practical choice for a lady physician.
“Mrs Ancura!” said Lyke. “Wonderful to see you again! This is my good friend, Mr M Leopold Duvall. I hope we’re not too late, it took us quite a bit longer to get across town than we’d thought.”
“Not at all,” said Marn, her voice fireplace-warm as always. “Come on in, everyone’s still getting themselves situated in the other room. Lovely to meet you Mr Duvall, I believe a mutual friend of your’s, a Mr Chine, is already in the waiting room.”
“I told you they were attending,” said Lyke.
Duvall pretended to ignore him. “Thank you Mrs Ancura. A delight to make your acquaintance.”
“Now who’s out here making such smooth talk with my wife?” said Bucho, ducking slightly as he stepped through the inner doorway. “Mr Lychen! Back so soon!”
“I told you I would be,” said Lyke cheerfully.
“I do like a man who keeps to his word,” said Bucho.
“Brought a good friend of mine with me too,” said Lyke. He put a hand on Duvall’s shoulder. “May I introduce Mr M Leopold Duvall? Duvall, this is Mr Bucho Ancura, Marn’s husband.”
Duvall looked between Marn and Bucho for a moment, no doubt taking stock of the height difference between them as Lyke had done on his own first meeting. Bucho, taking such a look with as much good humour as he had when Lyke had done it, smiled down at both of them, shaking Duvall’s hand vigorously.
“Always wonderful to make a new acquaintance!” said Bucho. “Now, let me take your coats and I’ll show you through to the parlour.”
The group moved to the parlour, where they were introduced to another pair, the obviously sceptical Miss Pickman and her more subdued companion Mr Alekest san Geraint, and reintroduced to Chine. The parlour itself was striking, the usual trappings of a stately home overlaid with the unique purchases of Es - for every picturesque landscape painting, there was something more abstract, candleholders that had been crafted to twist and bend like a willow tree under the candle’s weight, tiny colourful pottery and, in the corner, simply the largest fern Lyke had ever seen outside of a botanical greenhouse. He felt, just as he had the first time he had visited, immediately at home.
Chine immediately shook Duvall’s hand, though Lyke knew that they had been acquainted many times. Lyke shifted slightly on his feet, drawing Alekest into conversation about the origins of the porcelain figures that dotted the parlour, so that Duvall would have more of an excuse to lean towards Chine for his own conversation. Never let it be said that Lye Lychen did not help his friends at every opportunity.
Marn cleared her throat, gathering their attention to her. “The Lady Es has finished her preparations to connect to the spiritual realm. If you could all follow me?”
They trailed out of the room after her, into a small connected room. It was dark in the room, only a few candles to provide illumination to the low, round table. Es stood at the far end of it, draped in shimmering fabrics. She looked to each of them in turn, acknowledging them by name as she stepped forward to shake their hands. It was perhaps just Lyke’s hopeful imagination, but Es’ gaze seemed to warm as it alighted on him. He smiled, and she returned the expression, stepping forward to clasp his hands in greeting.
“Mr Lychen,” said Es, “how wonderful to see you again so soon.”
“I know you are only in town for a limited time, and so I must take every opportunity to admire your skill,” said Lyke.
Es’ smile widened, pleased. “It is nice to have one’s work so appreciated.” She paused, lowering her voice slightly. “I do still have some time left in my schedule for a more… private appointment, if there was anyone in particular you wished to contact that was of a more personal nature?”
Lyke’s mind scrambled to think of an appropriately dead relative, perhaps the first time he’d held any true regret for not keeping any close familial bonds. “I- That would be wonderful, if you did indeed have the time to spare.”
“I always make sure to make time for those who appreciate my work.”
He could feel the warmth of her skin through the delicate lace of her gloves, the heat of it travelling up to his face. Behind him, Duvall gave a delicate cough.
“Ah, and I see you have brought a companion with you tonight,” said Es.
“Yes,” said Lyke, reluctantly letting go of her hand so that he could step back. “May I introduce Misters Chine and Duvall.”
“Wonderful to make your acquaintance,” said Es. “I hope that you find what you seek this evening.” She stepped back, gesturing towards the table. “If you would all take your seats, we can begin. I am sure you are all eager to experience contact with the other side.”
Duvall made an attempt to cover his scoffing sound with a cough. Pickman did not hide the disbelief on her own features, but she did take her seat politely enough. Lyke quickly took his own seat next to Es, feeling a thrill as she reached for his hand.
As with the first time he had seen her, Es did not disappoint. It was a little frightening to see the spirit brought forth, a young woman this time, blood stains on her mouth, cruel remarks spilling from her lips in a warped version of Es’ voice. After several pointed words she took her leave, Es’ body slumping in the chair like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Lyke could feel Duvall’s hand trembling in his own, but he left the comforting to Chine.
Marn quickly stepped forward, murmuring softly to Es. She met Lyke’s eyes, giving his a small nod, and together he and Marn helped Es towards her more private back room. Lyke could hear Bucho behind them, explaining the Es would need to rest briefly before they could speak to them once again, and guiding the group back into the parlour where light refreshments awaited for them to calm their own nerves.
Lyke and Marn helped Es to sit down on the daybed. Despite her layers of fabric, she felt much lighter than Lyke would have thought, as though she were a spirit herself under there, nothing but air suspended in gauzy fabric. Es lay back, her eyes closed.
“I had not thought it would be so bad every time,” said Lyke softly.
“She will be quite alright in a few moments,” said Marn. Her gaze flicked to the doorway. “I should check on our guests.”
“Go,” said Es softly. “Mr Lychen can take care of me.”
Marn raised her eyebrows. “Lady Es-”
Es waved a hand. “I merely need to lie down for a moment Mrs Ancura, you know this.” She paused, one eye opening to look at Marn. “We’ll be sure to keep the door open, if that’s what concerns you.”
Lyke felt his cheeks flush, and he focussed on adjusting the pillow under Es’ head.
“Very well,” said Marn. “If there are any- If you begin to feel concerned, please come and get me immediately.”
“Of course,” said Lyke.
He didn’t look up until he heard Marn’s footsteps retreat, blinking as he found Es looking back at him.
She put a hand on his shoulder. “There is no need for such concern, I assure you. It is an exertion to contact the departed souls, but it is an exertion I am well used to.”
“I believe I shall continue to hold concern for you nevertheless,” said Lyke.
Es managed a wan smile. “I suppose I can do nothing to stop you, and it would be… untrue of me, were I to say I did not… that I do not find something to appreciate in such things.” She paused. “I truly was surprised to see you back again so soon. I had not thought- Well. People often say they cannot wait for such an experience again, only to never be seen from until they wish to contact a deceased person about the location of their will.”
“I hope it was okay,” said Lyke.
“Of course,” said Es. “It- Your presence in such spaces adds a great deal to the positive energies.”
“Oh, good,” said Lyke. “I felt just the same about you when I saw you again.”
Es’ smile seemed more solid this time. Her hand moved from his shoulder to cover Lyke’s where they were resting on the mattress. Again, Lyke felt his breath catch at her touch. This time, however, he caught the quick flick of Es’ eyes to his lips, and the light from the gas lamps was bright enough for him to see that the flush on her cheeks matched his own.
“I- You made mention of a private session,” said Lyke. “Might you have time tomorrow?”
“You know,” said Es slowly, “I do believe I have the entire evening free.”
The private session was quite different than that of the group seance. Marn and Bucho greeted him as usual, both of them moving to sit together in the parlour, on the opposite side of the room. The curtains of the parlour had been drawn tight to protect them from the chill of the night air, the glow of the fireplace making it feel as though their room was separate from the world. Instead of waiting for him under layers of fabric, Es sat neatly on one of the couches in the parlour, dressed in a delicate-looking lace tea dress. She patted the space on the loveseat next to her. Lyke glanced towards the seance room, but Es shook her head slightly.
“I thought perhaps you and I should get to know each other better before we proceed,” said Es, pouring them both a cup of tea.
“And how do you propose we do that?” asked Lyke.
Es hummed. “Well, perhaps we… May I have your hand Mr Lychen.”
Lyke quickly set his teacup down, spilling a little into the saucer in his haste. “Of course.”
She took his hand, carefully examining the lines on his palm. Lyke’s eyes skidded from the points of her fingers to the movement of her eyes, to the small movements of her lips as she mouthed words to herself. He could barely breathe, not waiting to do anything to disturb her concentration, or to make her move back.
Es hummed again. “Very strong life line, here-” she touched a finger lightly along his palm. “More than one, here, that means you’re very full of life- Though I admit, I could tell that from speaking with you the very first day we met.”
Es was smiling, and so Lyke smiled back.
“And here,” said Es, touching her fingers to another part of his palm. “A long love line. It means you’re likely to have few relationships but they’ll be longer ones, more touching, but more heartbreaking too.”
Lyke shifted a little in his seat, aware of Marn and Bucho on the opposite side of the room. “Oh?”
“I’m afraid so,” said Es. “I’m afraid I speak from experience when I say that such lines do not always feel like the blessing they should be.”
Lyke shifted towards her on the couch, almost without really meaning to. “I apologise on behalf of any person who was so foolish as to wrong you.”
“There was no wrong done,” said Es. “Just… a too-quick parting, though I…”
Her eyes slid towards Marn and Bucho. As if they had received a signal, Marn stood up, touching Bucho on the should to get his attention.
“Lady Es, I have just remembered I have the household books to complete,” said Marn. “I really must get them down today, and of course I will need Bucho’s assistance. Would you mind awfully if we stepped away for a moment?”
“Not at all,” said Es.
Marn smiled, giving Lyke the kind of look that would have made even Chine blush as she and Bucho left the room, closing the doors rather pointedly behind her. Lyke felt something squirm hotly in the pit of his stomach, the sensation not exactly calmed by Es’ slow exhale.
She gave him a look. “We do not have to keep the doors closed, if…”
“No, this is quite alright,” said Lyke quickly.
Es huffed a laugh. “Not just for… Well. Sometimes I find that I wish to speak privately, and there are some who… Often people do not wish to be in private with someone like myself.”
“I can’t even imagine why,” said Lyke.
Es raised an eyebrow. “You do not fear the spirits I hold inside me?”
Lyke tilted his head to one side, thinking for a moment. “No, not really. It was startling to see during the seance, don’t get me wrong, but- I do not think you wish me harm. I do not think any spirit that you would invite here would do me harm. I trust you, especially in this.”
Es’ face softened. “That is… It is not a sentiment I often hear, not since…” She pressed her lips together, pausing for a moment before she carefully removed her glove. “My heart line, here, do you see? It’s deep, but it breaks off here. A short love, but one I’m afraid that I… that I can never quite let go of, or make let go of me. It’s why I began performing seances in the first place, to try to reach out to them, to see them again.”
“And did you?” asked Lyke.
Es swallowed. “Yes. Oh, yes, I still… Sometimes, when I miss Dyre Ode too fervently that I feel myself begin to fade into it, I reach out to them, and I can feel them reaching back.”
“It must be difficult, to have them here but so far away at the same time,” said Lyke. “Far more than if they were simply overseas, the other side is such a… such a terrifically long distance. The longest distance there is.”
Es gave him a watery smile. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
Lyke took her hand, pretending to examine it. “Ah, but you see it’s- There, you see? Not a cured broken heart, but a mended one.”
Es hummed, her face close to his as she looked down at her palm. “Ah, yes, I see. Dyre Ode often said that there would be more than one love in my long life.”
“There,” said Lyke. “It must be true.”
Es let out a breath, and Lyke could feel her exhale against his lips.
“Perhaps,” said Es, “we should do what it is you came here for.”
Lyke blinked. “What? Oh, yes, of course.”
Es put her glove back on, standing to dim the gas lights and carefully bring out the wooden ouija board. She gestured for him to stand, guiding him to sit in one of the plush chairs in the corner. She brought one close to his, the two of them facing each other, their knees touching. Lyke felt as though his whole face must be flushed bright red, though he was a little reassured to see that Es’ cheeks were flushed a light pink. There was something steadying to know he was not entirely alone in his feelings.
She sat down opposite him, resting the ouija board on their knees. Lyke had to shift a little closer still to keep the board level, Es’ knees between his. He swallowed at the feeling of her lace gown brushing against the fabric covering the inside of his thighs. Es placed her hands on the planchet and Lyke copied her, their fingers pressed against one another’s.
“Now,” said Es, “Mr Lychen, please focus your energies on whom you wish to contact.”
Lyke’s mind went blank. He still had no plan even so much as sketched out for this part of the evening. It did not help that Es was so close, her head tipped back and eyes closed, letting him watch the graceful length of her neck as she swallowed. His heartbeat thudded in his ears.
After a few minutes of nothing happening outwardly, Es lowered her head. “Mr Lychen.”
An entire pamphlet’s worth of chastisement in two small words. Lyke felt himself flush.
“I… admit, I did not have anyone in mind when I asked to meet with you,” said Lyke.
Es smiled. “I have my own confession in return - I thought as much.”
Lyke grinned. “Oh?”
“Yes,” said Es. “From our very first meeting, I thought that we might be something of the same mind.”
She shifted her leg, the distinctive sliding sound below them as she slipped her foot free of her shoe, her foot resting suddenly and warmly against Lyke’s ankle. Lyke gasped, shifting his hands so that his fingers were tangled with her’s on the planchet. Es’ foot slid higher, just under the leg of his pant. Lyke swallowed, wetting his lips. Es’ eyes followed the movement.
“Lady Es,” said Lyke, his voice sounding far steadier than he felt, “Would you mind if I removed my jacket?”
“Not at all,” said Es, “I suppose it is rather warm in here.”
Lyke quickly shed his jacket, tossing it onto the couch behind them. He glanced down at Es’ gloved hands. “May I?”
“Of course,” said Es, holding out her hands.
Lyke carefully peeled the lace gloves from Es’ hands, massaging the skin as it became bared. He could hear Es’s breath quickening, the sound enough to embolden his to have the courage to press a kiss to her wrists, her palms.
“Mr Lychen,” breathed Es.
He looked up, scarcely able to believe in his good fortune as he leant up to meet her in a kiss. Her bared hands tangled in his hair, one of them sliding down to toy with his borrowed tie. He felt like molten heat was sliding through his veins, the warmth of it like the heat of the middle of summer, enough to make him want to lie down and laze in it, to indulge in all manners of desires.
His own hands had settled on Es’ waist, feeling the muscles shift there under the layers of fabric. He shifted closer, the ouija board clattering to the ground between them.
“Sorry,” said Lyke.
“It doesn’t matter to the spirits and so it doesn’t matter to me,” said Es. “Kiss me again, please.”
“Who am I to refuse such a polite request from a lady?” said Lyke grinning.
His lips found hers, and then, trailing off course a little, found her neck, laving over her pulse point in a way that made her shudder and grasp his shoulder in an extremely gratifying way.
“You should know, I’m not really a lady,” said Es, “In titles, or… elsewhere.”
Lyke paused, the information taking a moment to filter through the haze of heat in his mind “Oh, that’s- I mean, I’m not a gentleman in title or elsewhere either.”
There was a pause and then Es laughed, the sound rumbling under Lyke’s lips. Lyke grinned, returning to his task of trying to draw out a particular sigh from Es’ lips. He returned to her lips and then, feeling bold, slid to his knees in front of her. Es followed, bending to kiss him, one of her hands still tangled in his wispy hair.
Lyke shifted forward, close enough that he could feel her arousal against him through the fabric of their clothes. Es shuddered, gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly in her hand. Lyke could feel arousal pulse through him in response, the desire for her enough to make his mouth water.
He touched his hands to her ankles, slowly sliding them up her stocking-covered legs until her reached the garter clips. He looked up, his breath catching in his throat as the deep flush on Es’ cheeks, her lips bitten red and her eyes dark as they met his. She gave a small nod and Lyke fumbled to quickly unclasp them, letting the stockings fall down of their own regard as he continued to push the layers of her dress and petticoats upward - not to expose her, just a little, just enough that he could duck his head under them.
The world around him became muted, the scent of Es’ arousal heavy in the air, the heat from her bare skin enough to make him feel as though he was pressed against a fire-grate. He pressed further still, feeling heat flood through him at Es’ gasp. The soft cotton of her undergarments did little to hide her arousal, and Lyke quickly pulled them down, Es lifting her hips so they could slide free. Lyke took a moment to admire her, pressing a hand to himself and letting out a groan.
“Mr Lychen,” said Es softly from above him, “if you please …”
He didn’t need more encouragement than that, licking a stripe over her, luxuriating in Es’ moan above him before he took her into his mouth. His focus narrowed down to their points of connection - the feeling of Es against his tongue, her hands finding their way to his hair, the thud of his own arousal in the back of his mind, driving him forward, his hips moving in time even as he dedicated his hands to Es’ pleasure.
She squeezed his shoulder, a sign she was growing close, and Lyke redoubled his efforts, giving her space as she began to thrust up into his mouth. He let himself release one of his hands on her, quickly pushing it inside his pants and moaning as he easily sank two fingers into himself.
Es’ voice was a whisper above him, indiscernible through the layers of fabric and heat that surrounded him but urging him on just the same. He could feel Es begin to tremble and he added a third finger, just as Es tipped over the edge, spilling into his mouth. It didn’t take him long to follow after that, the taste of her enough to bring him most of the way there, and Es’ delicate fingers through his hair pushing him over the edge.
He panted against her thigh, feeling almost dizzy as he crawled backwards, clumsily helping her to right her clothing. She drew him close, guiding him to sit back down on the love seat, where it was more comfortable to collapse against one another. Lyke lifted her hand, drawing a finger lazily along what he thought was her heart line. Es hummed, leaning against him.
“This has been,” said Es after a moment, “a very enjoyable evening.”
Lyke laughed. “Oh yes. Very enjoyable.” He paused. “My dear Lady Es, you don’t happen to have any plans for tomorrow night, do you?”
“I do, in fact,” said Es, “I have tickets to the opera.”
Duvall had once said, and Lyke was inclined to agree, that there was no one less appreciative of a night at the opera then Lye Lychen. Duvall himself had proclaimed that Chine was a better partner to see performances with, though perhaps, now that Lyke was thinking about it, this had likely been some kind of ruse on Duvall’s part.
“Ah well,” said Lyke, trying not to let his disappointment show on his face. “Perhaps another night I could-”
“I have tickets to the opera, where I hold a private box,” said Es, putting her hand very deliberately on Lyke’s knee. “If you would like to accompany me?”
“Oh, a private box, that's a different matter entirely! Yes, absolutely,” said Lyke. “I’d love to.”
The corners of Es’ eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Wonderful. I’m quite looking forward to it.”
“Do you know,” said Lyke. “So am I.”