The restaurant was swanky and over embellished but had a nice view, perched as it was on the top floor of one of the tallest hotels in the area. I walked into the place first and flirted with the hostess to get a table near the man I immediately recognized from the billboard Thom had defaced. He was sitting near the windows, so I asked for the table next door. A gaudy scrollwork screen created a false sense of privacy between the tables, but I had a decent view of Walden through the gaps in the metal design. 

Pretending to look at my menu, I studied Walden while we waited, a little unnerved by how much he looked like his photo on the billboard down to the same wooden smile, but I caught a whiff of that otherworldly scent as soon as I passed his table and I knew he wasn’t as bland as he appeared although I had no idea what he really was. I kept expecting a forked tongue to come out of his mouth like the one Thom had expertly drawn over his image, but he played the part of a human too well for me to suspect him as anything else. He looked middle-aged and a touch overweight, his skin flushed like a man who enjoyed his food and drink a little too much. His suit was well-fitted, however, and looked expensive, cut to make his broad frame look elegant rather than bullish.

I looked down when I saw Thom approaching, staring at the menu without seeing it. 

“Walden,” Thom said tersely. “What’s this about?”

“So quick to focus on business?” Walden replied in a voice that was velvet on gravel, smooth and cultivated with a layer of grit underneath. “Why don’t we start with a glass of wine and get to know each other a little better first?”

“This isn’t a date,” Thom retorted. 

I could tell just by the way Walden shifted on his chair in my peripheral vision that he found the suggestion distasteful. “That’s certainly true. I’m a married man. And you aren’t my type.” He leaned forward, folding his hands on top of the table. “But I am civilized enough to start a meeting properly with a little small talk before jumping straight to the main event.”

“You must have more time than I do, then.”

Walden’s laugh grated on my nerves badly enough that I sympathized with Thom as he squirmed a little in reaction. “Good thing this isn’t a date. I pity your lovers if this is what you’re like in bed.” His crude sense of humor was at odds with his cultivated appearance and I wondered what he looked like when he was at home instead of pretending to be a businessman.

“Maybe I will order some wine,” Thom said sharply, “if only to endure this abuse.”

“You’re in luck, then, because I already ordered some.” 

The waiter arrived shortly afterward with a bottle. While Walden described the provenance of the overpriced wine, the waiter stopped by my table to ask if I was ready to order. I asked for a cup of coffee and handed back the menu, ignoring the waiter’s scowl at my cheap tastes. 

“Do you have any idea how much you cost me last night?” Walden asked, peering at Thom over the top of his glass as he swirled the wine around inside. The combination of his gesture and the slight twist of his lips made me think of Yun Seo even though Walden couldn’t have been physically more different. 

“Ask me if I care.”

Walden chuckled and took a sip of wine. “Destruction of property is a crime, you know. I have you on camera.”

“You have a cat on camera, I believe.”

Nodding, Walden set his glass deliberately back on the table, holding it down with his first two fingers. “You weren’t a cat the whole time.” He pointed at the bandage peeking out from under Thom’s sweater. 

Thom shrugged, a little too confident as he sneered at Walden and took a sip. “You don’t have me on camera doing anything illegal.”

“I know people who are good at doctoring footage,” Walden mused. “And I imagine it wouldn’t be hard to connect you to the vandalism if I tried.”

“That’s an awful lot of work to go to unless you see me as a threat.”

Laughing a little too loudly, Walden shook his head. “A threat? Hardly. You’re a nuisance. And because of our shared…” He lifted a hand in the air and turned it in a little circle as he finished, “...lineage, I am willing to overlook your juvenile behavior and try to broker peace.”

“Peace?” Thom shook his head. “Not a chance. You’re in my territory, endangering my people. I won’t stop harassing you until you leave.”

“I have just as much right to be here as you do. More, actually, since I actually own the property.”

“You don’t own anything,” Thom retorted, jabbing a finger at the table. “Just because some human gave you a slip of paper doesn’t mean a thing to me.”

Walden nodded slowly, and the glint in his eyes made me worry for Thom. He was losing ground quickly and Walden was far too smart for him. “Maybe not. But it means quite a bit to the true authorities of this land. If you haven’t noticed, humans are the power here these days.”

“Since when do we follow human laws?”

Taking a slow sip of wine, Walden swallowed and leaned back in his chair. “Since they stopped believing in us.” Chuckling, he asked, “Do you think you can really fight them all? They’re the ones who gave us our powers in the first place, and they’re the reason our powers are fading now. If we want to survive, then we need to learn how to live in their world.”

Thom slumped slightly and looked away, his profile so regal that he looked for the first time to me like the king that he was. “I’ll never do that.” Focusing on Walden again without turning his head, he said, “You’re part of the problem. By blending with them fully and forgetting your own heritage, you’re asking to fade away.”

I wasn’t entirely surprised to hear this argument, but it was a different angle on a conversation I’d heard before. It was obvious to me how hard it was for most folklore creatures to carve out a place to belong within the modern world, but I’d not considered how their origin might be a vulnerability as well. As much as humanity was a threat to them now, it had also been the source of their existence. 

“I doubt we’ll ever agree on this point,” Walden said with a sigh, “but I don’t want to be your enemy. I only want to find common ground.”

“As long as you are standing on my ground, there’s no room for compromise.”

I clenched my hand in my napkin in irritation at Thom’s stubbornness. 

“Your ground,” Walden repeated with a soft chuckle. “You’re so certain it belongs to you, but I’ve been here much longer than you, kitten. My bones are buried beneath the church you so recently defaced with your supposed art, and I’ve been watching over this land long before you were born.” He paused and leaned forward in his chair to look through the screen directly at me. “Your friend should know. He recognized me the first time we met.”

I froze, watching as Thom’s eyes widened with fear.

“I looked a bit different then, of course,” Walden added with a kind smile, and there was something about his brown eyes, glowing almost red from the table’s candlelight, and the wiry black and gray of his beard that triggered my memory of the black dog I’d seen watching over the children in Covent Garden, the first Unseen in London to notice me.

Sucking in a breath and releasing it with a huff of a laugh, I suddenly felt foolish. 

“Would you like to join us, young man?” Walden asked. “I suspect you might be able to talk some sense into your friend here.”

Finishing off my coffee and returning it to its saucer, I dug payment out of my pocket along with a tip so generous that even Yun Seo would have arched a brow before standing up. Thom was frowning at me when I stepped around the screen, his gaze wounded and doubtful as if I had somehow betrayed him. His reaction seemed childish, but I was too preoccupied with Walden to worry about Thom’s feelings at the moment.

“I didn’t recognize you,” I said to Walden as I sat down in the empty seat between them.

Walden pursed his lips and nodded. “Understandable. You’re only human, after all. I’m surprised you noticed me at all. Most don’t. Even some of the Unseen fail to recognize each other fully.” His piercing blue gaze shifted to Thom then, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I knew you were one of us,” Thom replied sharply. “Even if I didn’t know what kind.”

“I’m a church grim,” Walden said, returning his attention to me. “When a new church was built, it was believed that the first person buried in its cemetery had a duty to act as its guardian. In order to spare a human from such a burden, they would bury a dog alive under the cornerstone of a church instead. The dog’s spirit would guard the church and its surroundings for as long as it remained standing.”

The story sounded vaguely familiar, and I suspected I would find it somewhere in my father’s notes when I looked, but I couldn’t recall anything more than what he shared. “Is that what happened to you?” I asked with a shiver of unease.

Walden nodded calmly, continuing without an ounce of bitterness, “Many centuries ago, yes.” Glancing at Thom, he added, “Which is why I have a hard time listening to this nonsense about territory and heritage from a young upstart like this one who has never lived a life longer than twenty years.”

As much as I liked Thom, I found myself relating to Walden more in that moment. I was still shy of middle age, but I had lived a lot of life in my time and seen many things I could never forget while Thom seemed painfully young and naive, doomed to keep repeating foolish mistakes he’d failed to learn. “Aren’t you worried about being forgotten?” I asked Walden.

Chuckling, Walden shook his head and took a drink from his glass. “I would much prefer to be forgotten than to have more of my kind created out of fear. My brethren and I were born from cruelty. We’ve served our purpose for centuries. Being forgotten might be the only mercy we’ll ever be given.”

“So just because I don’t live for centuries at a time, my heritage doesn’t matter?” Thom demanded, slapping a hand against the table to get Walden’s attention. “Did you know that this is my last life? It’s number nine. I have nothing to look forward to after this and little to leave behind for those who follow. Maybe you’re tired of living, but I’m not.” 

I turned to gape at him in shock. When he’d talked about living multiple lives, it hadn’t occurred to me to question if there would be a limit.

Walden sighed, pushing his wine glass across the table and spreading his hands wide. “What would you have me do?”

This question startled Thom into silence, and I realized that for all of his bluster Thom had no idea what he wanted. All he knew was that he didn’t want what was happening. He was a rebel without a cause.

“You want a legacy,” I said, thinking out loud. “Right?”

Thom nodded with reluctance, thick brows furrowing in thought. 

“Your art is temporary,” I mused. “Street art is ever changing, murals can be painted over and they’re meant to be transitory, art of the moment not intended to last the test of time.” Walden started to smile a little, a hint of curiosity lighting his eyes as he listened. “You are rebuilding the city,” I said to Walden, “forging a path for the future and the generations yet to come, but most modern construction is generic and lacks character. You are creating something new, but it doesn’t have the permanence or gravitas of what came before. Perhaps Thom’s art can give your work some of that? A sense of truth that will reflect the heritage you both share?”

Thom was staring at me as if he’d never really seen me before, eyes wide and lips slightly parted as if he’d never expected me to have more layers than what he’d first observed. I realized that in spite of his mysterious air and secretive nature, Thom wasn’t very deep. He was so single-minded in his approach that he didn’t know how to recognize when someone else wasn’t doing the same. 

“Make art about this place,” I explained when I realized he wasn’t going to get to the explanation on his own, “and the Unseen who inhabit it.” I nodded at Walden. “He can make sure it will last long enough to become a part of history. You’ll get your heritage, and he’ll get peace.”

Thom frowned, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as he puzzled over this solution, looking for flaws. Voice heavy with reluctance he said finally, “That would help. But what about my people? They’re getting pushed out of the place they’ve always called home.”

“Surely you could find a way to provide them with housing options they can afford?” I asked Walden.

His smile broadening, Walden nodded. “I think we can find a compromise for that.” Tilting his head at me, he added, “You’re good at this. Almost as good as your father.”

I gasped for breath as shock hit me hard in the chest. I’d known my father traveled for his research, but I hadn’t expected to encounter anyone he’d met. “You knew him?”

“A little. He passed through here a while back and asked endless questions. He even settled a few disputes before moving on, a skill that obviously runs in the family.” 

“He was always good at diplomacy,” I agreed, my throat thick with emotions I had been refusing to acknowledge. “He used to say that most conflicts could be resolved if people knew how to really listen to each other. He was optimistic like that. He expected people to always want the best for themselves and others, but that isn’t true. Knowing how to listen isn’t enough. You have to want to hear and understand.”

Walden’s expression darkened, the weight of his years settling into his features and making him look suddenly old and weathered. “You used the past tense. Was his death the meaning of the banshee’s warning?”

I saw Thom shift in my peripheral vision, his attention sharpening.

“Surely not,” I replied. “He died over a year ago.” Now that I was thinking about his death, I realized it had almost been two years already. How had that happened? How had so much time passed without me finding peace with the loss?

Walden frowned deeply. “I’m sorry to hear that. He was a good man.”

Throat tight, I nodded. “He was.”

“The Banshee’s warning struck me as odd. I can sense impending death as well, after all, and the death she was predicting did not have the usual flavor.”

“What does that mean?”

Walden shrugged. “I’ve lived a long time, but I don’t know everything. All I do know is that while death marks the end of something, it is not always the end of life. Sometimes it is simply a transition to something new.”

I nodded even though I still didn’t understand. 

Walden patted me on the shoulder before returning his attention to Thom. “You should thank this young man for helping you out of this mess, Tildrum,” he said in a fatherly tone. “If you’re up for the scenario he described, I can make it happen. You’ll have your legacy – at least as long as I’m a guardian of this place.”

Thom gave me a lingering look before nodding at Walden. “I want to see details before I agree, but I’m interested.”

Lifting his glass in a salute, Walden finished off his wine. “To our future, then, and our past.”

Thom raised his own glass and added, “To leaving a mark before we fade away.”