Intaglio: Dragons All The Way Down (33 page)

He laughed as he
left.

“Be good kids,”
he said, lifting a hand in farewell.

Cole blushed,
but Ava cackled.

“I always am,
Ollie,” she retorted.

Her father shook
his head.

“I don’t believe
it, but I don’t want to know, either.”

Her laughter
followed him into the hall as he locked the door behind him.  Ava stepped
toward Cole, throwing her arms over his neck.

“You and I are
gonna make up for some wasted time,” she said, kissing him.

Her mouth
slanted across his, tongue pushing insistently forward to taste him; in
seconds, they were tangled around one another.  Cole broke the embrace with a
groan, gesturing to the door.

“How long do we
have?”

Ava grinned. 

“Dunno... but
I’m guessing a while.”

 “Well, let’s
stop wasting it then.”

Before she could
respond, he leaned down, putting one arm under her knees and the other behind
her shoulders, picking her up and walking to the bedroom decisively.  Ava
laughed, squirming in his arms.

“Oh my god,
you’re not kidding about wasting time!” she shrieked as he moved her sideways
through the doorway.

Cole glanced
down, face serious.

“No, not at
all,” he said, “now stop wiggling, or I’ll drop you.”

She laughed even
harder, and Cole dropped her roughly onto the bed, reaching down to help her
out of her clothes.  He threw his own in a pile at his feet and then reached
over to slam the door.  Ava was still giggling, her cheeks flushed with
excitement.

“Just in case,”
Cole said, locking the door before stepping over to the bed.

: : : : : : : :
: :

Cole woke in the
dark.

Ava was asleep
in his arms, but the silence had been broken by something.  He heard the key in
the lock of the apartment's front door, and then the steady tap of Oliver’s
feet walking upstairs from the foyer.  He was whistling a repeated refrain as
he headed to his bedroom. 

Cole smiled,
pulling Ava closer into the curve of his arms.  Her shape pressed against his
own, fitting together like two pieces of a whole.  “Love you,” she murmured,
before going limp in his arms. 

Cole closed his
eyes, and followed her back into sleep.

Hanna crouched
in the sand, staring down at them.  The man cradled the woman in his arms,
their eyes closed as if in sleep, the way two children might rest: like
spoons.  Her hand was tucked in his, his mouth pressed in a final kiss to the
back of her neck.  Hanna reached up, wiping away unexpected tears. 

They were both
dead.

Taking a
shuddering breath, she hoisted herself to her feet, eyes taking in the rest of
the destruction as she began to walk once more.  In the distance, there were
faint grey bands – rocky cliffs – rising out of the water.  There was flotsam
littering the sand, the winged figurehead of the ship rocking gently in the
waves off shore. 

Everything
destroyed…

Hanna’s eyes
rose up the long stretch of beach, to the cliffs, and from there into the sky. 
Above her head, two birds wheeled lazy circles against a shimmering expanse of
blue.  She squinted, caught in the sight, her feet stumbling to a stop.

She turned back toward
the figures on the beach, throat aching.  There was something about them that
bothered her more than the others she’d seen, but what it was she couldn’t
say.  She lingered uncertainly.  The waves insistently lapped at her shoes, and
with a resigned sigh, she began walking again. 

There were other
people who needed her.

Ava stood in the
vaulted main room of the National Gallery, a crowd of people including
potential buyers and curators from across the country vying for her attention. 
Cole waited to the side, watching proudly as she mingled.  Tonight she’d handed
out a stream of portfolios, answering questions and gesturing to her work.   
This show was the next big step, her foothold in the art world.  Tonight
changed things for her.

Cole had been
thinking of Oliver’s reading a lot lately, wondering how things would play out
as this new part of Ava's life began.  The movement into a professional career
was a huge transition.  Cole’s job at the university, along with his own
studies, kept him busy; he knew that Ava had worried about this show and its
reviews.   If attendance tonight was any reflection, the career of Ava Brooks,
graffiti artist, was about to launch in a big way. 

The gallery was
packed.

Oliver had
already arrived; Cole had seen him duck outside to have a cigarette with Marcus
a few minutes ago.  Cole glanced over to the door again.  It was his own family
he was watching for.  Frank and Nina would arrive soon, and he was surprisingly
eager to see them.  He and his father had continued their sessions over the
course of the Spring and Summer.  It hadn’t been easy.  Cole was amazed by the
sheer amount of work there was in their communication, but he was far more
settled than he ever had been with his father.  They could talk.  Nina and Ava
had also grown closer, and the two women were developing their own connections
and dynamic. 

Ava was family.
The thought
filled his chest with happiness. 

Cole had just
turned back to watch Ava, talking to an elderly man wearing an obnoxious orange
tie, when a familiar figure stepped into view.

It was Kip
Chambers.

“Hey, Cole,” he
said warmly.  “How’re you doing, man?”

Cole tensed.  He
didn’t like Kip, – never had – but he was here now, offering his hand. Cole
reached out, shaking it quickly.

“Good... good. 
How ‘bout you?” he asked tersely, glancing at the woman on Kip’s arm.

It was Raya
Simpson, though she’d changed since the last time he’d seen her in the police
station.  Cole struggled to pick out what it was… the process of finishing a
stone sculpture popping, unexpectedly, to mind.  It was like all of Raya’s
sharp edges had been rubbed away, leaving her looking softer than he
remembered.  Her hair curled around her face; her body more curvy.  She smiled,
offering her hand too, and Cole noticed that she was wearing a pair of bands on
her left ring finger. 

‘Married,’
his mind
prompted.  That might explain the change.

“We’re doing
great,” she said happily, squeezing Cole’s fingers before stepping back.  “Kip
and I wanted to talk to you for a second.”

A sense of déjà
vu rose in Cole. 
‘Oliver was right...’

“I’m not sure if
you’ve heard,” Kip began.  “But Ry’ finished her documentary this summer. 
Editing is gonna be a few more months, but we had an idea we wanted to talk to
you about.” 

He glanced at
Raya and she picked up the story.  They’d obviously talked about this more than
once.

“Well, if the
film just featured established artists,” she said, gesturing to the room, “like
Kip or Ava, then I’d use a well-known gallery to show the film and the
graffiti.  But in our case, a lot of the people are really young, some of them
still in high school.  There was one young woman, Moira… Mora…”

“Morag,” Kip
interjected.

“Right,” Raya
said with a smile.  “Someone like Morag should get exposure, but given her age,
we thought that perhaps the university gallery would be a better venue.”

Cole’s mind was
starting to react with a series of ideas.  He and the two other interns were
curating the university gallery, and this kind of show would be perfect for his
thesis and project.  It was exactly the kind of real modern artwork Cole always
argued about with Wilkins.  The kind of artwork that changed the world and made
a difference to people’s attitudes.

Art that
mattered.

Cole’s gaze went
back to Kip.

“So when Raya
brought it up to me, I immediately thought of you.”  He grinned boyishly. “I
just figured since you and Ava are together, you probably have a better sense
of how to set up a show that really captures this art form.  It wouldn’t be
pre-packaged or warped by preconceived notions.  It’d be real.”

Cole found
himself nodding, adrenaline pulsing through him.  This was exactly what he
wanted to do as a curator.

“Yeah, Kip,”
Cole said, smiling genuinely now.  “I’d definitely be interested in something
like that.”

Chambers nodded,
clapping his hand on Cole’s shoulder, then stepping back to Raya.  Kip had a
matching ring on his left hand, Cole realized in surprise.

“Well,” Kip
said, glancing at his wife, “should we get going?”

Cole hesitated. 

“You don’t want
to say hi to Ava?”   He could see she was deep in serious conversation with the
man with the orange tie.  “I could go get her if you wanted,” Cole offered.  It
felt weird even saying it, but he felt like he ought to ask.

“No, no… don’t
interrupt her,” Raya said, “I’m not feeling great tonight.  Evenings are a bit
rough for me.” 

Kip dropped his
voice conspiratorially. 

“First
trimester’s a bitch. Besides...” Kip added as Ava shook hands with the man in
the orange tie, “I think Ava’s just about to steal my agent.”

Cole glanced to
Simpson in shock as she rolled her eyes.

“Kip’s agent for
Asia.  I’m still his North American agent, or at least for the next six months
or so.”

Kip pressed a
kiss to her temple before turning back to Cole.

“We figured we’d
just pass on our congrats through you,” he said with a grin, “and I’ll contact
you in a week or so about the university show.  There are several really
amazing graffiti artists in Ry’s film – Morag in particular.  You’ll like what
they’ve created.”

Cole’s heart was
thudding in excitement.  He needed to talk to Ava… now!

“Good man, I’ll
look forward to your call.”

“Alright,”
Chambers said, “We should run.”

Cole shook their
hands again before they left the gallery, arms linked.

Dragons.

: : : : : : : :
: :

Oliver and Frank
stood in front of one of Ava’s paintings, making awkward small talk.  The show
had been a resounding success; now, hours later, it was slowing down.  The
Sergeant Major cleared his throat, glancing over at the man beside him. 

“So you’re just
back in town for the show then?”

Oliver nodded,
his eyes on Cole and Ava.  They stood with Chim and Suzanne, grinning and
laughing together as if nothing else in the world existed.

“Yeah, I’m in
the city until Tuesday, then back on the road,” Oliver answered.  “I’ll catch
back up with the symphony in Copenhagen.  Not to worry though, I’ll be back
next summer.” He looked over at Frank, waggling his eyebrows.  “Had to twist
some arms to get that into my contract the last second but I did it... things
are in the air then.”

Frank Thomas
shifted uncomfortably.  It was the vague sort of reference to knowing things
that made him uneasy.  It wasn’t the first time it had come up with Oliver
Brooks, and he was still not sure he believed in it no matter what Cole said. 

“Something’s
going on next summer?” Frank asked guardedly.

Oliver winked.

“Nothing for
sure yet...” he answered, his eyes drifting back to Ava and Cole.  She leaned
into him, Cole’s arm looped around her waist, their motions somehow in sync
even as they talked.  “Just a sense I’ve got.” 

Frank nodded.

“Well, then,
I’ll make sure Nina and I plan to be around.  The house and the grounds are
beautiful that time of year.”  He coughed nervously.  “Lots of room for...
uh... outdoor events and such.  I’ll make sure we don’t plan a vacation away.”

Oliver chuckled,
reaching out and squeezing his shoulder.

“Might be a good
idea.”

: : : : : : : :
: :

The gallery was
nearly empty except for a few final patrons and the curatorial staff.  Ava
stood at one side of the room, barefoot, her shoes held in one hand. Cole was
beside her.

“Richard
Ashton,” Ava said, grinning.  “Kip sold him the panels I did.”

“The ones from
the collaboration?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Kip apparently
just couldn’t bring himself to paint over them,” she explained, “so he showed
them to Rick, and he got really excited about my work.”

Cole grinned,
kissing her gently before pulling back.

 “The guy in the
orange tie?”  he asked.  “I remember him from that first opening.  The one Kip
had earlier this year.  He was on the phone, talking in Mandarin the whole
time.”