My sister, Laura, had been looking for a storefront for us before she disappeared. I'd sell my paintings and perhaps have a little studio area and she'd sell her own work. It was a way of separating her from Junior's control and a way for her to learn to handle her own finances, something she'd never been very good at.

But then she disappeared without a trace and the idea of a Granger & Granger storefront disappeared with her. But after Lynnie was born and I realised that my hobby—well profession now, isn't it?—might be poisonous to my child, I began looking once more for a studio space that was away from the loft, where I could keep paint thinner and turpentine and linseed oil and their like and not worry constantly about Lynnie drinking them and dying.

I could have moved into one of the artist spaces that Fallon Quinn maintained, but I really wanted my own space, something that I paid for out of my own pocket, something that had my name on it and no one else's. That's a man thing, isn't it' The need to stamp things with our identities, our names, our...essence. I don't suppose women suffer from that, do they' No, women are far more sensible about those sorts of things. They realise that they're leaving their mark subtly, importantly, without the need to pee on every fence post and tree trunk in the neighbourhood. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Anyway, I found myself an empty storefront in the WestEnd, in Riley Lo's building as a matter of fact. Lola had looked into space there before she disappeared, but they were all rented out. By a stroke of luck, however, there was one space available, right next door to an herbalist's shop and the best Indian food cafe I'd encountered outside of Curry Row on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. I snapped it up immediately and moved in within a week.

I brought with me all of my painting and drawing supplies, plus a large box of books that I felt relatively certain Piper had no interest in reading, the disreputable arm chair that had been with me since I was in my second year at University, and a large supply of scotch. And then I set about making art. I spent more time in the studio than I did at home, much to Piper's ever-lasting annoyance, I'm certain. But since she's a lady of good breeding—and far too good for me, I might add—she never once mentioned my extended absences, never once complained about being stuck in the loft all day with a baby, a grumpy bird, and a mountain of washing.

I didn't paint all the time. In fact, I spent more time reading and drinking than I did painting. It made me feel closer to my mother, I guess. It seemed like, when Lola and I were growing up, she always had her nose in a book. After she died, I cleared out her personal library before Junior could get his hands on it and discovered that Mum had a love for the fantastic. Her shelves had been lined with HG Wells, Jules Verne, Lewis Carroll, and Frank Baum. I had never read these books, never even heard of the authors, but I had the time now and I devoured them. I read The Time Machine and Journey To The Centre Of the Earth in one night.

My new-found literary taste was reflected in my work. My paintings shifted from near-photo-realism to what my art professors would have called "surrealist" or "abstract expressionist". The canvasses I produced were blobs and splotches of colours like faint shapes appearing through a heavy mist. Or they were bright, bold pieces with definite Gorky and Rothco influences. The pieces seemed to spring wholly formed from my mind onto the canvas. I could almost see the images travelling through the air between my head and the easel.

I found that I spent more and more time sleeping now, as well. After all, I quite often very, very drunk after hours of reading and painting and was probably quite a danger to those around me had I chosen to drive home. I added a small camp cot to the studio and began sleeping there most nights, losing myself in the most vivid dreams I'd ever experienced. These dreams often ended up on canvas, fuelling my desire to drink more so I could sleep more so I could paint more. I'd been sucked into a vicious cycle, one that would eventually seal my fate and set me up for a fall.

Despite Ollie's long absences, laughter was never very far away in the loft he theoretically shared with his wife and daughter. Half-Fae, Lyneth was developing skills faster than a human baby, already able to sit up and crawl at seven months, and as a result, she could do a lot more with her mother than Piper had expected. No matter how much they did in a day, or how much Lynnie wanted to see Ollie, the baby girl never complained when the sun set and it was time to sleep. As silence fell over the loft, Piper padded through the main room, tidying up the sheets of multicolored hand prints, hanging them to dry before slipping into the kitchen to feed the dog and the parrot. "Hmm," she mused, scratching Loki behind the ears fondly, "maybe I should feed myself, what do you think?"

The sound of Ollie's key slotting in the lock caused the parrot to start squawking loudly and half-fly, half-hop towards the front door." Swinging open, the door revealed the disheveled, scruffy man in question, and the parrot screamed out in a way that had never been heard before in the loft as she headed for the rafters of the place." A deep furrow creased Ollie's brow and he stared up at the bird in utter incomprehension for a moment, as if he'd never before seen his pet." Then he turned that confused look on the dog and then the woman." He stared at them for the span of about fifteen seconds and then very slowly began nodding." "Oh, yes," he said, murmuring mostly to himself." "Poppy, Loki, and Piper."

The sound of the key in the lock brought a smile to Piper's face, but over the past months she'd learned the hard way not to make a fuss of greeting Ollie when he came back. Poppy's screech, however, shocked her into jumping violently, turning to stare up at the bird in amazement. As the deep blue of her gaze slowly turned to look at her husband in surprise, she felt Loki bristle under her hand, and her eyes snapped down to her dog. "Ah, ah," she warned the Malamute sharply, and thought reluctant, Loki settled back to his food. At least there was one animal in the house she had some control over. Shaking the food container, she refilled the dispenser in Poppy's cage. "It's here when you want it, Poppy," was called quietly to the African Grey glaring down at Ollie, and Piper finally met her husband's gaze, wondering what he was muttering about. "I was about to make something to eat," she offered quietly, trying not to let her impatience with his unpredictability show. "Would you like something?"

"Eat," he repeated dully, shuffling forward a step or two into the loft, leaving the door standing wide open behind him." He was wearing the same clothing he'd had on for the past three days and from the appearance of his stubbly cheeks and extremely mussed hair, that was the last time he'd showered as well." His hands and forearms were coated in layers of bright, multicolored paint and there were matching blobs on his shirt and torn jeans." His feet were bare and caked with mud." "Yes," he said after a moment." "I would like this." To eat." Food."

As he stepped inside, Piper found her gaze picking out those not so little details about his appearance, blinking in surprise when he left the door wide open behind him. "All right," she said slowly, wondering if it would be worth the inevitable explosion to broach the subject of his appearance with him. "Well ....it won't be ready for a little while, so you could clean up and shave while you're waiting?" She moved across the loft from the kitchen, stepping past Ollie to close and lock the door herself, her eyes never leaving him in quiet suspicion. "Ollie, are you all right?"

"All right?" he repeated again, using nearly the same tone of voice and inflection as she had just used." "I would like to clean up, yes." With water." In the bathroom." This will make me all right.?" He nodded and in a shuffling, shambling gait headed towards one of the only doors in the house"one that incidentally took him into their bedroom." He stood in the doorway for a moment, his head cocked to one side, giving him a look rather like Loki had when he heard or saw something curious.

Piper stared after Ollie, trying to hold down the uncharitable thought that he'd obviously drunk something more potent than usual. She watched as he paused in the doorway of the bedroom, and decided to help him out a little. "Why don't you go straight into the bathroom," she suggested, moving toward him even as she gestured to the appropriate door, "and I'll find you something clean to wear. Are you going back to the studio tonight?"

"Studio." No, I will not be returning there this night." Perhaps tomorrow.?" He turned and looked down at her, his hand reaching up to gently capture a lock of her shining chestnut hair." "So beautiful," he said absently as he stroked the tresses between his fingers." "Like sunshine on newly turned earth.?" He abruptly dropped the bit of her hair and turned to shuffle towards the other closed door, making a grunt of satisfaction when he discovered that it was the appropriate door this time.

Again, she found herself staring, this time as a slow flush painted her cheeks with the gentle brush of pink that accentuated her complexion's name of English Rose. It had been a long time since Ollie had given her a compliment of any kind, and the way he'd looked at her just then ....the gentleness of his fingers over that lock of her hair ....It had almost been as though he'd never seen her before. "I, um ....I'll bring fresh clothes and a towel in to you," she told him through a small but delighted smile, turning into the bedroom herself in shy amazement.

He nodded, clearly still very distracted by what he found waiting for him in the bathroom." He stared in bewilderment at the faucets on the sink and in the tub, the handle on the toilet, even the bottles of toiletries lined up on the shelves." He bent down, moving like an old, arthritic man, and carefully turned the hot water tap in the tub." When the water began flooding out, he jumped back with a startled yell.

Piper appeared in the doorway quickly, clothes and towels draped over her arm. "Shhhh!" she told him hurriedly, drawing the door closed behind her. "You'll wake Lynnie up, and you know how loud she gets when she's not happy." Setting her armful of cloth down, she leaned over automatically and adjusted the flow of water until it was at a temperature that wasn't going to remove his skin. Straightening, she found herself face to face with her husband. "Ollie, you're behaving very strangely, you know."

"I am sorry, Piper." I have had a very trying day." I will try to do better.?" He gave her a smile that was very nearly normal for him before he began removing his clothing.

Relieved to see that smile, Piper dared to curl her hand to his cheek, ignoring the rasp of stubble against her palm. "It's wonderful to have you home," she told him fervently, rising onto her toes to brush a gentle kiss to his lips. It wasn't a demanding gesture, not even suggesting a want for more; it was just Piper showing her love for her husband in a brief moment of vulnerability before stepping back. "I'll see what?s in the fridge."

"One moment," he said, taking her elbow gently." "This thing you've just done." This putting your mouth against mine." It is something that people do when they are feeling affection towards another." Does this mean you are feeling affection for me?"

Piper's eyes widened, her surprise showing once again as she lifted a hand to tuck her sable hair back behind her ear. "Ollie, I love you," she said in a disbelieving tone. "You know that, I've told you and shown you as much as I can. You can't stand there and tell me you don't know what a kiss is, or what it means. We've been together almost a year, we're far past the time when you could have pretended to be a virgin."

"Tea, love," she told him gently. "I've got into the habit of having chamomile tea in the evenings. It helps me relax when I'm ....when you're not here." Her smile was a little guilty, feeling as though she'd begun to blame him for his absences already. Shaking her head, she slipped from her seat. "Putting the pot on just means I'll set the tea to brewing."

"Oh, yes." I greatly enjoy tea." It is very relaxing.?" The dull look fled from his expression to be quickly replaced by something far more normal and happy." He moved to the sink and began washing the dishes, taking his time and doing everything deliberately and carefully, as if he'd never done it before.

It felt odd to have him back home for the evening, but Piper would rather have had odd than loneliness. She did keep an eye on him as she loaded the ceramic ball, pouring boiling water into the teapot and leaving the tea to brew. Turning back to him, she leaned a hip against the counter, one hand gently reaching out to still his. "I think they're clean now, love."

He jumped, clearly startled, when she touched him." "Yes, they squeak now," he said, demonstrating it to her, when he caught up with her words." "I will dry them now and put them away."

"Just put them in the rack to air dry," she told him, pulling the plug to drain the water away. His jump hadn't gone unnoticed, but she wasn't going to draw attention to it, concern overpowering any wish to know exactly what he'd been up to over the past months.

He nodded and then glanced around the loft in confusion." "Does the small person sleep all the time?" Will she awaken soon?" I wish to...to...speak with her."

"The small person?" Piper's brow rose in subtle disapproval of this classification of their daughter. "Her name is Lyneth, as you well know, and despite everything, she is your daughter, Ollie. She's missed you dreadfully." Stifling a sigh, she stepped away, hiding the sting that came with his admission of wanting to be with Lynnie and not her. "She'll wake up at about 6 in the morning, she usually does. I'm afraid you'll just have to put up with me for the time being."

"I have...missed her as well," he finished after a moment's pause." Then he frowned at Piper, annoyance flashing in his hawkish eyes." "It is no hardship to be with you." You are my wife." I have chosen you above all other women."

That annoyance wasn't missed, and the sable-haired woman ducked her head, hiding the guilt in her expression behind the fall of her hair as she checked on the tea. "I'm sorry," she apologised quietly. "I've missed you too." A faintly bitter laugh huffed from her lips. "Isn't it ridiculous" I'm jealous of my own daughter."

"You are worried that I wish to put you aside in favour of your child?"" He asked this question so sincerely that it was quite clear that he was truly worried that she felt this way.

"Our child," she corrected without conscious thought, not daring to look at him as they touched on this tender subject. "And, uh ....yes. Yes, I am. I know I haven't exactly been the easiest person to live with, especially not during those first few months, but I have calmed down a lot, Ollie, I promise. No more mood swings."

His frown deepened when she made her admission." "This is not acceptable." I do not wish to put you aside unless you are unfaithful or do not wish to remain my wife." The child is my daughter." It is not within social norms for me to have relations with her." I wish to be normal."

"Oh God, Ollie, I didn't mean that!" Piper couldn't help it; she giggled, lifting her hand to cover her lips as she turned to face him, blue eyes sparkling with amusement. "I don't mean anything like that, I just ....I'm jealous because you and she have always had this perfect relationship, and it's only recently that she's even given me the time of day. And then you come back tonight, almost your usual self, and you state a preference for her company. It's childish and stupid of me, but it still hurts." She shrugged. "I'm being silly. It doesn't matter, forget I said anything."

"He...I have not been a good and proper husband to you.?" He shook his head and clucked his tongue in obvious disapproval." "This must not be allowed to continue." Tell me how to be better." I wish to be a good provider and companion."

"He?" Her eyes focused on his sharply, picking up on the one word he no doubt wanted her to have missed entirely. "What do you mean, 'he'" Are you saying you're not my husband?"

He laughed in amusement." "Of course I am your husband." I am Oliver Hudson Granger, the third." Brother to Laura and Paige." Husband of Piper." Father of Lynneth." Who else would I be?"

"In this town?" But Piper was easily reassured, having no reason to mistrust anything Ollie said to her. She smiled, shaking her head lightly. "I'm sorry, I'm a little paranoid. Forgive me?"

He nodded." "You are forgiven," he said, though it was obvious he was a bit distracted by something." "Will you forgive me?"

"Of course I will, I already have," she promised, stepping closer for a moment. Her palm curled to his jaw once again, stroking her thumb over his cheek tenderly. "If I hadn't forgiven you, I would have thrown you out when you came in through the door, love." The tip of her nose brushed his in a gentle nuzzle before she touched another kiss to his lips, her eyes closing to enjoy the taste of him without being hurried along before she gently withdrew once again. "You don't need to stay up with me, I won't mind if you go to bed."

He wound his arms around her, holding her close as she tried to slip away from him." "I have no desire to sleep," he said softly before capturing her mouth in a tender kiss, a gesture that hadn't been experienced in the loft for months." "I wish only to learn how to be a good husband." You will teach me?"

If she'd been of a mind to object or protest, that urge was swept aside by his kiss, reminding her of everything that had been missing between them since Lyneth was born and they had lost time for one another. Piper sighed softly, the sound trembling between their lips as her arms rose to curl about his waist. Her lips brushed his as she nuzzled to him tenderly. "You already know," she murmured lovingly, full of faith in her husband's ability to relearn what he seemed to have forgotten.

"I do hope so," he commented as he pressed another kiss to the centre of her forehead." "I do not wish to continue hurting you."

Her eyes lifted to meet his, solemn and sincere. "Then don't go away again," she said quietly. "Don't leave us for days and weeks not knowing if you're ever coming home again. I can't bear the uncertainty, Ollie - if you don't want us, just say so, and we'll be gone. I don't want to be a burden on you."

Jon arrived at the coffeehouse right on time and took a booth toward the back, hoping to remain incognito. He had arranged to have Vicki drop him off so that the Bentley wasn't sticking out like a sore thumb outside announcing his presence. Unlike others in his profession, he liked to maintain a low profile as much as possible, though he was friendly enough to fans when he was recognized. He was sitting in the back booth, enjoying a cup of coffee and a danish and awaiting his cousin's arrival. They had a lot of catching up to do, but Jon had asked Ollie to meet him here for a specific reason.

Ollie, prompted by Piper's urgings, dressed in clean clothing, shaved and showered, and left the loft." Still a bit puzzled by the Morris Minor that Piper assure him was his car, he skipped driving in favour of walking the ten or so blocks to the coffeehouse where Jon had asked him to meet." He ducked inside, eyes wide at the scent of roasting and freshly-brewed coffee that assaulted the senses the moment one entered the place." "This must be heaven," he muttered and drew a smile from the girl behind the counter." She helped him order a cafe American and then went in search of his cousin.

Jon waved a hand to greet his cousin and let him know he was there, a warm smile on his face. Whatever arguments they may have had in the past had either been forgiven or forgotten, most likely the latter.

A tenuous smile settled on thin lips as the artist made his way towards the waving man." From a quick study of a photo album he found at the loft, he was fairly certain this was Jon, but was perturbed not to know for certain." They had been very close growing up, after all, best friend and quite inseparable." Ollie took a seat opposite Jon and gave him a slightly more confident smile." "Hello, Jon," he said.

"Ollie, it's good to see you," Jon smiled, waving over the waitress to take Ollie's order. "How've you been" How's Piper and Lyneth?"" "Coffee, sir?" the waitress asked as she arrived at the table and handed Ollie a small menu that listed the various coffees and desserts available.

He glanced up at the woman and then nodded to the counter." "She helped me order an American," he said with a smile that seemed a bit forced." The woman nodded and left, headed to get Ollie's order, and the artist turned to Jon and stared at him for a moment before answering." "My wife and my child are behaving quite well." I have been...good," he said after a moment, seeming to struggle with the basic social niceties.

Jon arched a brow at Ollie's reply, or more accurately, at the way Ollie has phrased it. My wife and child" Behaving" A small frown crossed Jon's face, as he immediately noticed something off with his cousin. While it was true, he had no recollection of his past before the shooting, he knew Ollie well enough to know he was acting strangely. "Are you okay?" he asked, looking concerned.

His face creased in a frown." "Yes, I am okay." Why would I not be?" Am I supposed to be unwell?"

"Ollie, it's me....Jon. You don't have to act all....cordial with me." Jon frowned and sighed, suspecting his cousin was acting this way because of something he'd done. "Look, I know we've kind of lost touch, and I'm sorry about that, but I'm trying to sort things out and put my life back together." He wrapped his hands around the cup of coffee in front of him before continuing. "I asked you here because I wanted to ask if you'd do me the honor of being one of my groomsmen."

"Groomsmen," he repeated, seizing upon the one word in all of that that didn't confuse him and send him into a tailspin." "You wish for me to care for your horses?"

The frown deepened and Jon leaned back to give Ollie a hard look. "Is this some kind of joke" I want you to stand up in my wedding."

"Wedding," he repeated once more and his eyes unfocused as his head tipped to the side, almost as if he were listening to someone speaking from far away." He slowly nodded." "You wish to join your life with a woman." Like Piper and I have." And you wish me to help you do this."

"Uh, yeah....The hell is the matter with you?" Jon leaned forward, lowering his voice for himself and Ollie alone. "Are you high or something" Been sneaking into Gigi's stash?"

"Gigi...she is our cousin, too." She sells illicit substances.?" He shook his head and leaned back in his seat when the girl returned with his coffee." "I have not been sneaking into her stash." I do not know where this stash is." I would not be adverse to trying those substances, however." I wish to have my mind altered and perhaps enhanced."

"You're a family man now. You should stay away from that stuff." Jon gestured for Ollie to keep his voice down, glancing around to see if anyone had heard him talk about Gigi, smiling warmly up at the waitress when she returned with Ollie's coffee. "Keep it down." And then Jon blinked at his cousin's admission. "Wait, what?" He narrowed his eyes. "No, you don't. That's not a good idea. Take my word for it."

The coffee forgotten in front of him, he looked around as Jon did but did not see what Jon was looking at." "There are many great artists and writers who have had their mind altered and who have produced great masterpieces because of these illicit substances." I, too, wish to create a masterpiece.? It is my most fervent wish."

Alban Elved, the autumnal equinox, was days away and Ollie's behaviour had changed in a startling manner. He was anxious, worried, and restless, and had taken to spending hours alone with Lynneth, locked away in her bedroom or more often than not, taking her for long strolls along the city streets, where inevitably, they would end up in the Southern Glen.

True to his word, the artist had not picked up a brush in over three months, preferring to spend time with his wife and child. He only spoke to his agent when she phoned to ask after more of his work. His answer was simply to say that he was taking a sabbatical, but would return to painting after the beginning of autumn. His few remaining pieces were bought by collectors for an exorbitant price, due, no doubt, to the fact that they were so rare.

The young family took short holidays as often as they could during those blissful months of summer. They went camping and sailing, slipped through the Nexus to Earth and explored the Greek Isles, the south of France, and even England, Scotland, and Ireland. And despite the beauty and breath-taking grandeur of the scenery, not once did Oliver paint, draw, or sketch what he was seeing, though he did stare long and hard at his daughter and wife whilst they were at play, rambling through fields of red poppies just outside Aix-en-Provence, or climbing ancient oak trees in Sherwood Forest, or feeding baby goats in Naxos. It was as if the man knew that these sights, these people wouldn't last forever and he was determined to stock up on memories. Or perhaps he knew that he wouldn't last forever.

He and Lynnie had developed a language of their own, it seemed, and frequent spoke solely to each other in the sibilant tongue. Sometimes, it even seemed as though they communicated with each other without even speaking, gazing long and intently into each other's eyes, or one of them would bark out a laugh and give the other an amused look.

There were frequent reminders that Lynneth was a faerie child, too. Things would go missing and the girl would know exactly where they were, even before her mother discovered their absence. Lynnie would also demand that tiny bowls of milk and cream be set out, that branches of rowan wood be tied together with red ribbon and hung above the hearth, and that her mother grow potted heather at every door and window in the loft.

It almost seemed as though Ollie was back to his normal self, the self that existed before the onset of the summer months. He was kind and generous with his time and affections, he laughed and joked with his girls, as he called them, and showered them with little presents. Every time Piper would tell him that such lavish gestures were unnecessary, he would simply shrug and say, "I want you to remember me." If he noticed the barely restrained terror that flashed through his wife's eyes after this proclamation, he didn't react to it in the slightest.

But as August became September and the trees began turning and the nights cooling down, Ollie's behaviour changed. There were no more holidays or gifts, no more teasing laughter. Instead, it seemed as if the Oliver that existed before May had come back, moodier and more withdrawn than ever. The discussions he had with his daughter were more silent now than not and the air crackled around them like thunderstorms as unspoken arguments ensued. It was almost as if Piper no longer lived in the loft with them; she was shut out of their lives, their attentions, even their eyes moved over her as if she just simply wasn't there.

A week before the equinox, Ollie clumsily made love to his wife and there was something final in his caresses, as if he'd made a decision to leave and this was his awkward way of saying goodbye to her. The next day, he left the loft before the sun rose, leaving Piper and Lynneth behind, sleeping or huddled beneath the bedclothes wondering what had happened to the Oliver who had been there that summer.

Over the next six days, the artist only came home to eat or fall exhausted and nearly unconscious into his bed. He did not speak to either of his girls, didn't even look at them, and the only emotion he displayed was fear and anxiety. He checked door and window locks multiple times a day, spoke silently to the dog and bird both, and sprinkled wood ash in a line across the hearth as if creating some sort of barrier.

Finally, on the Thursday before the equinox, Oliver left the loft and didn't return. No one, not Jon or Dom, not Fallon, not even the building super at the Zen Gardens where Ollie maintained studio space, had seen him. It was almost as if the man had disappeared from the face of the planet.