Free Fall of Light by Nina Kiriki Hoffman

somewhere, but asking him to find and use it might wake him up. He looked so peaceful. She murmured to the lock. It opened for her. Again she sensed a shift in the house, not like the lurch of an earthquake, more like something stirring under the surface of a street. When she touched the door handle, she felt a slight squirm, as though the metal were the skin of some smooth reptile. Then a low-level rumble, like purring.
    Uneasy, she crossed the threshold with Corvus in tow.
    In the front hall they had to maneuver between movie equipment; parts of the B&B’s downstairs were being used as a set. Corvus moved just as she had told him to, gracefully and stealthily. “Go to your room,” she said. He led her up the stairs, his hand still in hers, and down the hall to one of six doors. She talked to the lock on his room and opened the door, and then the door to the next room down the hall opened. Neil Aldridge leaned out.
    â€œWhat the hell is going on out here?” he said.
    â€œWe just got back from supper. I’m putting him to bed,” Opal answered.
    Aldridge glared at her. “No games,” he said. “I need him fresh tomorrow.” He glanced at his watch, shook his head, and retreated into the master bedroom. As he shut the door, Opal heard him say, “The monster is bedding the makeup girl,” and a murmur from someone else, a woman.
    Opal sighed and drew Corvus into his room. It looked nice, spacious, brown-walled and ruffly, everything gingham or patterned with tiny flowers and edged with fussy lace. The bed was huge, a good thing; Corvus could fit on it if he lay diagonally from one corner to the other. The weird household spirit, ominous yet welcoming, was present under the surface here, as well. It didn’t really feel as though something was ready to pounce or menace. Just as though something was watching. Maybe licking its lips. Opal shuddered and closed the door behind her.
    â€œAll right,” she said to Corvus. “Do everything you need to, to put yourself to bed comfortably.”
    He went into the bathroom and only partially closed the door. Water ran, and toothbrushing sounds drifted out to her. The sound of a long and abundant piss. The toilet flushed, the water ran again. Good. Even in his sleep, he washed his hands after using the john.
    Now was a good time for her to leave. She glanced around the room, wondering if she should do anything else for him before she headed back to her own hotel. Tell him he could wake up when he’d rested or when the alarm went off, she supposed. She went to the bedside table to check the alarm clock. They had to be in Makeup at ten. She had no idea how long it took Corvus to wake up, shower, eat. Should she set the alarm for eight thirty? Nine? Maybe it was time to wake him up and let him run his own life. Then again, that might just confuse him. She set the alarm for eight thirty.
    He emerged from the bathroom, naked, eyes closed. He gathered her up and pulled her onto the bed with him. There was a folded quilt at the bottom of the bed, and he tugged it up over them, then settled on his side, his arm tightly around her, snugging her back against his front. He was so large she felt as though she had a warm, breathing mountain behind her. His arm was muscular and heavy. She had seen his upper body before, but now she thought about what else she had just seen when he came out of the bathroom: respectable, but not intimidating. Oddly attractive, like the rest of him. Not at all erect, however.
    He sighed into her hair and dropped more deeply into sleep.
    She lay in his embrace, her heart bumping, and wondered what to do next. Wake him? Escape by persuading his arm to let go? Stay where she was? The director already thought they were sleeping together, and hadn’t told them they couldn’t.
    This was a bad idea, though. Corvus didn’t know what he was doing. Besides, she was still fully clothed, including her shoes, and