The duelist 7, p.5
The Duelist 7, page 5
“Gee, thanks, Dad,” Rylan snarked as he pushed my hand off him. “I missed you, too.”
“Is that Tone I hear, young man?” I asked as I looped him in a loose headlock. “Are you giving me backchat?”
“So what if I am, old man?” he volleyed, and I had to stop right where I was so I could teach him a lesson via noogie. “Ahh, stop, stop! You win!”
I threw back my head and laughed long and hard, and then I pulled the kid in for a proper hug. “I missed you, kiddo. I never thought I’d say that.”
“Hey!” Rylan pouted and tried to break free of my embrace, but I only laughed and squeezed him harder.
“Why do you want to run away from my love?” I practically yelled in mock-pain, and then I tried to make a grab for him.
He was too fast and danced away from my vise-like fingers, but as I chased him down the corridor and around a corner, I had to come to a screeching halt in the middle of the hallway so I wouldn’t bulldoze over Rylan.
“What…” I trailed off when I peered over the top of the teenager’s head and saw a wide-eyed Vel-Rala standing stock-still in a sheer nightgown.
“Oh,” Rylan said as he politely averted his eyes to the floor. The cockatoo-woman was wearing clothes that definitely did not belong outside of a bedroom. “Sorry, Vela, I didn’t see you. Um, are you okay?”
“Alex Brightwood,” the woman said as if Rylan hadn’t even spoken, and her coal-black eyes stared into mine with a flatness that unnerved me but prevented me from looking away at the same time.
“Hello, Vela,” I said as I placed my hands on Rylan’s shoulders from behind. “Long time no see. How have you been?”
“Alex Brightwood,” she repeated, and I tried to ignore how the corridor seemed to be losing its color and oxygen the longer she stood there emanating her strange aura. “There is something I must tell you. It is of grave importance, and one day it will save your life.”
Chapter 4
There was an abounding silence after the cockatoo-woman proclaimed what she did, and Rylan and I exchanged looks.
Then Rylan sighed, and his expression seemed to portray that a half-naked cockatoo-woman talking about life or death without any sort of context seemed, if not normal, something he’d at least witnessed in the recent past.
The way he suddenly cleared his throat and shot me another look confirmed my suspicions. Something had been going on with my loyal estate manager while we’d all been gone, but the question was, what?
“I’m going to go see if any of the Terrans need help crossing from the courtyard to the palace,” Rylan said as he gestured over his shoulder with his pointed thumb. “I’ll catch up with you later, Dad.”
“Good idea, kiddo,” I said and squeezed his shoulder, and when Vel wasn't looking, I mouthed a quick thank you to him before he ran off.
Then I turned my attention to the enigma before me.
“Alex Brightwood,” she said once more, and her voice sounded like she had the worst case of laryngitis in the world. It creaked and groaned through her vocal cords like a rusty screen door, and had we been close to any source of water, I would have interrupted her in order for her to take a drink.
As it was, I could do nothing but stand stock-still and wait for her to talk.
But she didn’t make another move, and I internally sighed when I realized I would have to get the ball rolling.
“How have you been, Vel?” I asked her as I took a tentative step toward her. “Do you feel alright? You look a little pale.”
Then, quicker than I thought she was currently capable of, the cockatoo-woman rushed at me faster than I was prepared for, and the end result had her and her fathomless black eyes just inches away from my face.
“You must heed me,” she said with a low burning intensity. “Do you promise to heed me?”
“Well, considering that it is life and death, I do heed you,” I said, and I made sure my tone was absent of any facetiousness. Whatever it was she had to tell me, she fully believed it, and for all of our problems in the past, the last thing I ever wanted to do to anyone on my Crew was belittle them. “What is this about?”
My question seemed to give her pause, and she backed up a half-step out of my space, which was a bit of a relief.
“This is about life and death,” she said with a confused frown as if she was unsure as to why that needed repeating. Then she rummaged around in her robe and pulled out an object with little aha noise. “See?”
The cockatoo-woman held up what appeared to be a plain silver service bell with a decorative handle. It was definitely a nice little trinket, but I failed to see what a bell had to do with life and death.
I didn’t want to be rude, though. After all, her intense expression tipped me off that I’d better take this just as seriously as she did.
“I have to admit, I don’t see, but I trust you,” I said before she could get upset. And then, to make sure she knew I was sincere, I took the ordinary-looking bell from her shaking fingers and tucked it into my armored belt so the handle was visible for her to see. “I’ll never go without it.”
“You shouldn’t,” she agreed with a frantic nod. “Not even between rooms. It must be on your person at all times, do you understand me?”
Instead of calming her down like I thought it would, me going along with whatever her superstition was seemed to agitate her even further, and I worried I’d just taken a big misstep.
“This is obviously very important to you,” I said as I gently took her arm and hooked her hand into the crook of my elbow. “Why don’t we get something to drink down in the kitchen?”
The non sequitur seemed to throw her out of her head enough so the impending panic was no longer a problem, and for a lack of anything else to say, the cockatoo-woman nodded and let me lead us both to the homey kitchen next to the hearth.
A pot of leftover stew was warming up on the flames, and when I lifted the lid, my stomach rumbled in appreciation at the smell of someone who knew how to cook with spices. I looked around, but the friendly sloth-man and chef extraordinaire, Arvid, was nowhere in sight.
For the time being, I would just have to make sure his excellent cooking would not go to waste.
I must have gotten into my preparations a little too much because when I turned back around, the cockatoo-woman was fast asleep with her head pillowed on top of her arms.
Then, as quietly as I could, I tried to set the two helpings of stew and the pitcher of clean water down quietly on the table, but even the smallest vibration had her jerking awake.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, but I waved it away as I handed her a glass of water. She took it in her trembling hand and gulped down half in one breath.
“No need to apologize,” I said nonchalantly and then topped off her glass when she set it back down. “After all, you’ve given me the ability to avoid death in the future, right?”
“I don’t really know,” she admitted after she had drained her second glass. Then she wiped the corners of her mouth dry and folded her hands primly on top of the table. She seemed a little more composed, but the crow’s feet around her eyes and the lines around her mouth said otherwise.
“Well, let’s start with what you do know,” I suggested.
Vel’s coal-like eyes snapped to mine with some of that old spark I recognized, and I never thought I would miss the type of attitude she was capable of throwing with just one look.
“All I know,” she started with a terseness to her diction that made me want to chuckle, “is there’s something inside of me that will not rest unless I do what it says. I don’t know if other people have the same experiences or not, but it is a type of madness I would not recommend or wish on my worst enemy.”
“Sounds pretty awful, actually,” I said as I dunked a new spoon into the rich gravy-like broth.
Oh, yes, come to Papa.
“Picture something inside of you that won’t stop screaming and screaming and screaming until you do what it says,” she said just as I brought a spoonful up to my lips.
If her goal was to put me off my appetite, then she would have to try harder because it had been a while since I last had something that tasted so good in my mouth.
“How do you feel now?” I asked her around the chunks of spiced meat and boiled vegetables. “Do you feel better or worse now that you were able to listen to the voice?”
“Better, I suppose…” she trailed off again and then looked around the kitchen as if she was seeing it for the first time. “I’ve never felt this way before, so your guess is as good as mine. By the way, I hope you don’t think I’m just a vapid person who makes a big deal about nothing. I wasn’t really intending on coming here in the first place, but I couldn’t not.”
“I’m sure everything is in good hands,” I said as I finished up the last of the leftover stew. “What do you say to something a little stronger than water? I think we both earned it.”
“That sounds agreeable,” the cockatoo-woman said as she wearily pushed away her water glass.
I smiled kindly at her and then turned around in search of a flagon of wine. Then I heard an alarming thud behind me, and when I whipped back around with two wine glasses in my hands, I realized I really only needed one.
Apparently, the poor woman had finally allowed the exhaustion to catch up with her because she was lying face-down again on the table, and I was pretty sure she was out for the count this time.
“I’ll take that wine,” a familiar voice spoke out moments before the voice’s owner peered out from the staircase above the kitchen.
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you eavesdropping was rude, Bodin?” I mock-teased as I gazed upside down at that familiar raccoon face. “So, you decided to join the getaway party, too, huh?”
“When Vel became so adamant on coming, I just had to go with her.” My trusty friend and carpenter sheepishly removed his ever-present painter’s cap and twisted it in his hands. “But don’t you worry, sir. Mel has everything under control back at Ithaca.”
“I definitely trust you and your brother,” I said as I topped off his glass of wine. “I’m pretty sure between everybody we’ve got working for us nowadays, I’ll never have to worry again. How is that going, by the way? Jenner mentioned in one of his letters that Ithaca has serfs now?”
“Yes, Ithaca now boasts seven serf families that wish to unite under the crest of Brightwood.” The raccoon-man replaced his painter’s cap and then took a sip from his glass. “They are hard workers and have already begun to transform the land around the estate.”
“What about Icarian?” I asked him about my second estate as I took a sip from my own glass. The taste of fiery fruity pebbles hit the back of my tongue, and I’d never missed such an odd combination before now.
“Icarian doesn’t have any serf contracts, but according to Vel, several merchants in the markets are curious about joining under the Brightwood Crest,” Bodin informed me. “They have been seeing how well your kolee and bumble honey enterprises are doing, and there are talks of merchant and craft contracts in the city. Vela knows more about all that stuff, and I’m sure she can tell you once she feels better…”
The raccoon-man trailed off as he gazed at the slumbering woman. He smiled a fond smile, but behind his masked eyes, he appeared a little forlorn.
“How long has she been feeling this way?” I asked as I gazed at the poor woman’s white-feathered crest. She seemed peaceful now, but a moment ago she was frantic and even slightly insane, so I tried to keep my phrasing and questions simple and to the point.
Based on how Bodin’s shoulders curled inward slightly, I could tell no amount of phrasing would ever be gentle enough given the situation.
“It started out with the little things at first,” he began as he rubbed his brow under the brim of his hat. “I thought she was just being superstitious all the time-- like not wanting me to leave without a special button or without tying my shoes a certain way. But over time these little inconsequential things began to add up and take priority in her mind. I don’t know what’s causing it, but I’m deathly afraid the love of my life is going mad. That’s why I couldn’t let her come alone.”
“I’m sure there’s a reason for her behavior,” I tried to reassure my friend, even though I was mildly concerned. “And maybe it’s a reason we can figure out. Just don’t lose hope. That’s the last thing that’ll help anybody.”
My words were supposed to comfort the raccoon-man, but I couldn’t help but see the parallels in my own situation with Amaya.
Each new facet of her power was something that seemed to pull us closer to the inevitable, but thinking that I was bound to lose her? Was it really inevitable? That might be a mistake waiting to happen.
Regardless, the other man seemed to understand where I was coming from, and he signed out a little in relief.
“You’re right, Mr. Alex,” he said and then drained the last of his wine in one long gulp. “We are nothing without hope.”
“That is definitely something I will most gladly drink to,” I said and then took a page out of his book as I downed my own wine.
“I’d better get her to bed properly this time,” Bodin said after a few moments where we sat in shared silence. “This is the first time she’s had proper rest since we've left Nata, and I should thank you for that.”
“All I did was accept a lucky bell,” I said.
“Whatever it takes,” Bodin said and then gently gathered the cockatoo-woman up in his arms.
“Get some rest, too, okay?” I patted the other man on the shoulder as he passed me. “I’m going to need someone who can help me fly this thing.”
“It’s good to have you back, Alex.” He smiled faintly and then ascended the stairs at the back of the kitchen toward the second floor.
I sighed and sat back down at the sturdy table as I soaked in this little slice of home.
The galley was quaint like the rest of the three-story structure, and where Ithaca and Icarian had splashes of luxury and opulence strewn throughout the properties, the detachable top part of Monger Manor had more of a country home feel.
Like if the Burrow in Harry Potter could fly.
But by far the best feature of this place was how much light poured in through the natural skylights. Even the window over the galley sink allowed for a surprising amount of brightness to illuminate every nook and cranny.
Maybe it was because I’d spent such a long time in semi-darkness, but whatever the case, I found myself wanting to bask in the sun for a moment like a happy dandelion.
I decided to take this rare moment to myself and gathered up my empty stew bowl and the glasses so I could wash them in front of the open window.
Dishes were one thing I never minded doing whenever I lived with roommates or had to share the house chores. There was something meditative about the warm water and making everything clean and put to rights that I really liked, so even though I only had a handful to clean, I took my time and let the sun pouring in from the window caress my face.
Then a sound caught my attention on the breeze, and I paused what I was doing for a moment. When nothing but the wind greeted me, I resumed drying the glasses with the towel in my hand, but I soon stopped when I heard it again.
That was definitely not the breeze this time, but a sob.
I set aside my towel and leaned over the sink to try to see through the window where the heart-breaking crying was coming from. Just when I thought all emotional crises had passed, someone somewhere tried to muffle their growing, painful sobs, and they weren’t doing a very good job of it.
From what I could hear, it sounded like that person was on the balcony above where the kitchen was, so I decided to investigate.
It turned out the modest study was right above the kitchen, and when I entered, the sound of crying grew louder so I followed it out to the balcony.
I didn’t know what I was expecting, but seeing the normally stoic ibex-woman curled over herself as she sat on the balcony’s ledge was not it.
It was such an unusual sight that I stood there for a moment in indecision as she continued to cry. I looked around hoping maybe Horus was somewhere nearby, but it was just the two of us.
I could walk away and try to find Horus, but something in me felt wrong about leaving her to cry by herself for even a second longer.
Anwaar was practically my sister-in-law, so after one more look around for any sorts of reinforcements and finding none, I carefully approached her in a way that wouldn’t startle her since we were so high up.
It was obvious when she became aware of my approach by the way she stiffened and tried to fiercely wipe away her tears, so I didn’t call attention to the fact that she was sniffling and climbed up on the ledge next to her instead.
“I apologize, I’m just about finished here, and I’ll go,” the distraught ibex-woman said as she clutched her cloak tighter around herself.
“Don’t leave on my account,” I said casually as I looked out across the canyon. The sky was such a vibrant blue, almost azure like a lapis lazuli, and the breeze smelled sweet like summertime.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as if I was just there minding my own business so Anwaar could have a moment to compose herself.
When her tears seemed to be dry, I shielded my eyes from the sun and glanced at her to make sure she was alright.
“You don’t have to stay, you know,” she said with a grim half-smile. “I’ll be alright in a moment.”
“I’ll leave if you want me to,” I said in a tone that hopefully telegraphed a “no pressure” sort of atmosphere. “But if not, I’ll just sit here and enjoy the sun on my face.”
“It is glorious, isn’t it?” She tilted her own face more into the sun and took a deep breath. “Thank you. For staying. Your presence isn’t the least bit agitating like I thought it would be.”
“Right…” I trailed off as I tried not to snort in my amusement. She was definitely an acquired taste to most, but I’d learned by now not to take her blunt manner to heart. “You know, I’m also a pretty good listener, too. Just saying, if you think it’ll help.”
