Black Icarus Resurrection

 
The two large, thuggish looking men brought the small, struggling figure before their leader. They did not release her — they’d learned that freeing any of her extremities quickly caused pain to their manly parts so they kept her fully restrained. Azura took one look at Laila's outraged expression and burst into laughter, but then quickly ordered his personal guard to see to her comfort — and the punishment of the men who had treated his “guest” so rudely.
 

As Laila stood before him, rubbing the circulation back into her sore wrists and shifting from leg to leg to do the same for ankles that had been bound too tightly, Azura observed the woman who had been his friend Noir’s aide de camp for so long. She had pretty features and a feminine build, despite her best efforts to hide those facts with mannish garb and a shaggy haircut that fell forward, hiding her features half the time. Her loyalty was invaluable in Azura’s view, as was her courage, and both earned his admiration. At least, that is what he told himself was the cause of his unusual tolerance of her disrespect toward him.
 

“How may I help you, Miss Laila?” he inquired in his drawling, bored voice. “But first, let me apologize for the rudeness of the reception my incompetent employees gave you and assure you that they will be treated appropriately for their mistake. Would you like some refreshments while my personal guard sees to getting you a chair…before they take care of those idiots?”
 

Azura looked meaningfully at the captain of the men who were leading away the security guards who had man-handled Laila, and he immediately directed one man to bring a chair over to Laila, while he took care of bringing a selection of refreshments personally. Once she was settled in a very comfortable cushioned chair, with a table laden with a dizzying array of the food, especially heavy on the sweet pastries she loved, Laila began to eat. Azura smiled; as usual, her appetite did not slow her down from talking.
 

“We need your help, Azura.”
 

He bowed his head slightly; at the same time, he signaled for all of his remaining henchmen, even the captain of his guard, to leave the room. Once they were alone, he stepped down from his throne-like chair, and joined Laila at her chair and table, even deigning to carry his own matching chair closer.
 

“What is wrong with my Noir?”
 

She wrinkled her nose at his calling Noir “his” but chose not to challenge it. No sense wasting time arguing unless it was worth it, she told herself, as she took another cake. “He’s not quite right, not since he came back from being a swan. He’s different…wild. Florian and Sugar call it feral. All I know is he’s like he was when….” She paused; even her eating stopped. She looked down at the floor.
 

Azura spoke quietly. “He’s more like the street rat he once was.”
 

Laila looked at the tall man. Her own voice was quieter than her usual tone. “I didn’t know him when you and he were boys, but I’ve known other street kids, and he’s said enough over the years for me to have an idea. So yes, I think that he’s like that, only worse. Back then, at its dehumanizing worst, he still had the memory of being the small, beloved child of two human parents. And he had you. Now, after months of really being an animal, he has trouble not slipping into those memories. He is searching for something he cannot find and we fear we are losing him.”
 

“What does du Roquefort think? Can he not solve this as he did the curse?” Azura was conscious of both concern for Noir, but also, he admitted to himself if not ever to Laila, satisfaction that the oh so perfect Duke was unable to solve this problem. The insipid blond might be his black cat’s soul mate, but obviously he was lacking in some critical way or they would not be coming to him now, would they?
 

It was perhaps not very noble of him to harbor such a petty thought, Azura conceded, but then, he never pretended to be the one who had cornered the market on nobility. He left that to Florian du Roquefort. And Noir.
 

Laila was shaking her head disgustedly. “Florian calms him as best he can — with music. But while that works for a little while, especially when he plays his flute and makes music that sounds like the wind, he is a little clever with that,” she added grudgingly, “it doesn’t last for long. Sooner or later, more sooner than later, Noir is out and running risks that he didn’t use to take before.”
 

“What types of risks?” Azura asked sharply.
 

“All kinds! He tries jumps he didn’t used to! Not just from rooftop to rooftop, but pointless ones, from clifftops into the water, almost as though he is trying to fly. He stares for hours at the water from our place in Dover. Oh!” She put her hand over her mouth.
 

Azura smiled wryly. “No worries — I knew of that place years ago. You have not spilled any secret. It is remote, and perhaps not the safest place for him right now. Not unless you have medical help nearby. I must think. Go home to Dover, if that is where you are all staying, and I will be in touch.”
 

Laila got up to leave. She paused. “We can trust you. Can’t we?”
 

Azura had risen to his feet as well. He took her hands in his. “In this case, Miss Laila, I find that you can. But it is not a good practice, generally, Noir would tell you, to ask the Devil, if he is trustworthy. That is something you should determine before you deal with him. Fortunately, in this case, he is.”

*******
 

“I cannot believe you went to Azura! Are you crazy, or simply besotted?”
 

Solomon Sugar did not raise his voice but the venom in his words was enough to make one wish he had, Laila thought. She had just told him and Florian of her visit to their great enemy, and while she had expected some negative reaction, which is why she had kept the trip secret until she returned, she had hoped they would at least hear her out before blowing their tops. She twisted her hands in her lap and tried to keep from losing her own temper. Failing, she jumped up and put her hands on her hips.
 

“He helped us a lot during the swan caper!” she reminded him — loudly -- cutting off what looked to be a full blown rant in the making.

He whirled toward her from the end of the room that his agitated pacing had taken him to. “The swan caper, as you call it, had been triggered by him in the first place! If he had not been friends with an insane maniac like Romanov, Noir likely wouldn’t have been caught in that trap!”
 

“I believe Ray’s actions as Noir caused his own problems with the Count,” Florian interjected mildly. He got up and poured a glass of wine for Solomon and a scotch for Laila. “Please, both of you, sit down and let us discuss this calmly.”
 

Solomon looked at Florian. He remained thinner than he’d been before the events of the year before, when he’d undergone a tremendously difficult test of will and self-denial in order to break a curse that a mad Count had cast on Ray — a curse that had changed his beloved Noir into a black swan! Florian had been required to maintain a complete silence while collecting sharp thistles, from which he then wove a cloth, from which he then made a shirt for Ray to break the spell, very much as in the old fairy tale of the seven swan brothers. The greatest difficulty came from the Count’s machinations to defeat them, as he had not been content to just let Florian work at his task, but had tried to capture Florian and turn him into a swan also! The whole escapade almost ended in Florian’s death on the stake by fire, and Noir being forever trapped as a swan, but they prevailed in the end. And yes, Azura had helped, so Florian was inclined to forgive much of his past evil…and there was much to forgive.
Besides which, he suspected that they needed him again now, as Ray was not making as quick or as full a recovery in the aftermath of their ordeal as they all had thought he had.
 

“What do you think Azura can do that we have not?” Florian asked.
 

“My question exactly,” Solomon said, his arms folded over his chest.
 

“Ah, but I am asking it sincerely,” Florian said, quirking his mouth up in a smile.
 

Laila would have stuck her tongue out at Solomon but knew that it was just as likely that such an action would earn her one of Florian’s quiet, but effective reprimands, so she restrained herself. Instead, she concentrated on how to best answer.
 

Silence reigned, until finally she shrugged and said simply, “If I knew that, I would just do it myself. But the truth is, say whatever else you want about Azura, the man is smart. Almost as smart as Ray is. And he knows Ray really well. Knows what Ray is like when he’s like, well, like this. Better than we do.” She saw Florian flinch slightly and felt badly about it since he was being nice about listening to her, but she forged on. “Given that, I figured that he might be able to come up with an idea that we can’t think of. And he won’t hurt Ray. Not when he’s down. That isn’t his way.”
 

Florian nodded. Even Solomon seemed struck by the sense of her words. He offered no more objection. In truth, even he was worried, very worried about his black cat, who was risking his nine lives far too much. Something had to be done, and if Azura was the person to do it…well, so be it.
Noir was a slim figure standing at the edge of the cliff, with the wind blowing his clothes against his form, revealing how slender he had become. His long black hair whipped back behind him, and in a flowing white shirt and silky black pants, he was a striking figure. One could imagine him with a sword by his side, Azura thought, as he walked silently up behind him. As much as he admired the beauty of his old friend in this setting, he was struck by how little it would take to send that slim figure soaring over the side of the cliff…gliding on the wind for a few moments…but then crashing to broken pieces on the rocks below.
 

“I miss flying,” Noir said, aware of Azura’s presence without turning around. Of course he was, Azura thought, with grim pride. Can one sneak up on a cat?
 

“I thought that might be it. I have heard rumors of your…unrest. That is…regrettable.”
 

Noir laughed, a harsh laugh that cut through the wind. He turned toward his old friend and it was only through years of practice that Azura was able to hide his shock. The green eyes that looked at him were barely human — they glittered with something feral, and yet familiar. They reminded him of both the swan he had seen in the Count’s lake, but even more of the wild, frightened boy he had befriended so many years before on the streets of Morocco.
 

“I cannot stand not being able to soar through the sky, Azura. I miss it so much. I did not know it would be so bad, being earthbound,” Noir whispered, his tone begging for help, much as a very much younger Noir had once looked to Azura to solve the ugly realties of the world they shared.
 

And Azura never failed him then. He would not now.
 

“There is a way for you to fly, my black cat. If you are willing to be part cat and part bird, and doing your best to keep the man part of yourself as well. Can you do that?”
 

Noir looked out over the horizon, where the sky met the water. “Florian begs me to do that too. I would like to make the promise, but only if I can keep it. I do not think I can without your help.”
 

“I brought you a way. But you will need to work at it…and did I mention, it is dangerous?”
 

This time, the gleam in the green eyes was pure man.

*******
 

“I find I have a complaint to lodge with you, Azura.” Florian handed the mysterious man a glass of very fine wine — the du Roquefort cellars had been purchased by Ray when he acquired Florian, but it was Florian who knew when to use the dustiest bottles. This occasion was such a time, he’d decided, upon seeing the bright look back in his lover’s eyes, notwithstanding his complaining words to his guest.
 

“And what would that be, your Grace?” Azura’s tone was mocking in the extreme, but his eyes were dancing. They both had seen Ray’s appearance when he’d come back that afternoon to get ready for dinner, and one look at him was enough to lift the weight from their shoulders.

The green look on Solomon Sugar’s face was merely an added bonus, Azura mused.
 

“Now that you have given Ray an airplane of his very own, along with an instructor in flying to teach him, and brought in engineers to pique his interest in design, I do not think he will have very much time for me at all,” Florian complained.
 

“Ah, there is that. Have you considered taking up a hobby? I understand you are quite talented at music.” Azura grinned.
 

Noir and Solomon entered the study just in time to hear Florian respond. “Well, actually, I was thinking of taking up jewelry theft as a hobby, since Noir is taking up flight like the Wright brothers, there is an opening in that field. I would hate for all those gems to go unclaimed.”
 

The shouts from Noir and Solomon, along with Azura’s laughter, made Laila drop the tray she was carrying from the kitchen.
 

She shook her head. “No sooner do I solve one problem than something else crops up! I’d better go see what it is,” she told the cat. He just yawned, and settled down for a nap by the stove.

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