offthebeatenpath

Flying, Em discovered, hadn't lost any of its thrill in the year she'd gone without. It felt every bit as wonderful and natural as it had in Duninnean, only now there was a hint of anxiety too, that she might be seen. She'd flown a few times since Halloween and the new understanding of her powers, but only at night, and usually further out from the city center, over quiet neighborhoods or wooded areas where there would be fewer people to see.

Autumn nights in England weren't exactly warm at ground level, let alone in the air, but she'd found if she bundled up, the warmth of her real clothes was just as real no matter what the projection over herself appeared to wear. So she could enjoy her flights without being too cold on her way back to the squat. Tonight she 'wore' a long, white dress trimmed in gold that matched the golden angel wings lifting her into the sky. The wings were the strangest thing, mostly because they didn't feel strange at all, as much an extension of her thought as they would be on her Knight of Swords. She wanted to fly, so they beat and she flew.

The moon was just past full, making it all the more likely someone could see her, but Em wanted to clear her head, and flying worked even better than Askani meditations sometimes. She could soar on the wind, looking down over the city, heart-free and head-quiet, no distractions, and just be for awhile.

Em had known it was a temporary situation from the beginning, and whenever she'd asked the cards something related, they'd hinted temporary would end fairly soon. So when the most responsible of the flatmates had said he wanted to talk to her not long into the new year, she'd been prepared for what he had to tell her.

The guy whose room she'd been staying in was coming back from Midsomer Newton or wherever - she'd never been entirely clear what English village he'd ended up in, mostly because no one seemed to tell her the same name twice - in a week, so she had to clear out by then.

She didn't like having to depend on anyone, and she could work something out herself, but Jag had said to call, that he would help. So she'd called, and they'd agreed to meet for a bite and to figure things out once they were through for the day.

Em thanked the middle-aged housewife type who'd been her last reading for the day, and once the woman left, packed up her cards, the tiny folding table, and most importantly, the can holding the last of the day's take. The rest was already tucked away elsewhere, so it wasn't as easy for someone else to grab.

She could do with a chance to warm up, and, if she let herself admit it, with seeing Jag again. It had been easier making friends at Muir. London was a far lonelier place for someone like Em, and would have been even if this had been her world from the beginning.