Explosive chemistry, p.6
Explosive Chemistry, page 6
Liliana sighed with frustration. She should just go home. She was terrible at socializing. But she remembered the image she had seen of the goblin healer dying, a sword thrust through his chest, and the raw grief on Pete’s face when he was minutes too late to save his dear friend. They would both die if she gave into fear now.
The goblin stood in the doorway uncertainly. “Um, well, thank you again. For bringing the sweater back. It really means a lot to me.”
“You’re welcome.” If someone said thank you, she was supposed to say, “You’re welcome.” But she should add something to keep the conversation going. “You gave it to me because I was cold.”
“Indeed. I did,” Nudd said and stopped talking again.
Liliana fiddled with the hem of her cape, running it through her fingers and watching the movement of the bright fabric. She wanted to go into the goblin’s house, but she hadn’t been invited. She knew the rule, but the goblin doctor seemed to have forgotten it.
That was okay. She understood. She forgot that rule, too, sometimes.
“Was there something else?” Nudd asked.
That was close enough. “Yes.” She walked under the goblin’s long arm and into his house.
He closed the door behind her.
She was supposed to say something complimentary. “I like your music. It makes me want to dance in the grass.”
“Um, thank you, I suppose.”
“I didn’t, though. Maybe next time.” Liliana walked into his large, open living room. “I don’t like beer much, but I like tea.” She had seen that when Pete came to visit, the goblin always offered him beer. She sat down on his overstuffed brocade couch near the crackling fire.
“Well, just make yourself at home then,” Doctor Nudd said. His lips twisted funny, and his voice implied that the words didn’t quite mean what they said.
Liliana ignored the possible double meaning and took the words at face value. “Thank you. I like your house.” She closed her human eyes and listened to the deep-toned tick, tock, tick of his big antique grandfather clock while he went into the kitchen and made her tea.
His kitchen was on the far end of his rambling house. Liliana explored with her fourth eyes without leaving the couch. Like Liliana, he had a section of his home dedicated to his work. Some rooms were like guest bedrooms, but with narrow, high beds. All empty now. His kitchen, on the other side of that part of the house, even had an autoclave, the big metal dishwasher that sterilized surgical instruments.
Every window in his house was open. It let in the cool, damp night air, so it almost felt like a sheltered glen in the woods, rather than a house.
His living room was relatively small and filled with a big, overstuffed armchair that looked like it was at least a century old and the worn, but comfortable couch she sat on. The couch and chair surrounded the fireplace, burning merrily to chase away the chill. The ticking clock calmed her nerves, and the crackling warmth seeped into her bones, until she almost felt relaxed. Doctor Nudd’s home was a good place, filled with peace and music and the welcoming scent of a hearth fire.
“I already know you are here, Siobhan. You don’t have to hide,” Liliana commented to the empty room, loud enough that the sprite should hear even in the next room under the goblin’s bed. She closed her fourth eyes so as not to disturb the sprite.
Siobhan popped her head up from behind the couch. “Wasn’t hiding.” She came around to face Liliana, hands in fists on her hips. “You going to tell anyone I was here?”
Liliana shrugged. “My father taught me it was dishonorable to tell other people’s secrets.”
“Who else’s secrets do you know?”
Considering, Liliana tilted her head. She could not think of any answer to that which would not, in itself, give away other people’s secrets. “That is not a question I will answer.”
Siobhan grinned at her. “Good answer, spider girl.”
When Doctor Nudd came back and handed her a cup of tea, Liliana said, “I like your clock a lot.” The tea smelled of cinnamon and orange peel, two of her favorite flavors. And it was properly brewed from hot water and tea leaves, not produced instantly from powder or syrup like some things that passed for tea these days.
“You like old clocks?” Siobhan asked.
“I love clocks.” Liliana smiled.
“Clocks are class.” Siobhan ran a hand down the carved and polished wood of the old clock, watching the brass pendulum swing back and forth for a moment. “All that intricate interwoven delicate machinery, just to keep track of time. Normals invent the most amazing things.”
“I like the sounds they make,” Liliana said. “And they always know the time. I don’t always know when I am.”
“I think I almost understood that.” The flower sprite perched on the arm of the couch to Liliana’s right. Sitting up there put Siobhan’s eye level even with Doctor Nudd’s as he settled in the big armchair by the fire to sip his own tea.
“You must remove the needle from the badger.” It was one of the turning points in the goblin’s future that Liliana had seen.
“And you’re speaking nonsense again, spider girl,” Siobhan said. “Is that a requirement for fortune-tellers?”
“Not you.” Liliana ignored the irrelevant question. “Doctor Nudd. You must remove the needle from the badger.”
Doctor Nudd’s broad face scrunched at the bushy brows. “I’m afraid that makes no more sense to me than it does to Siobhan.”
“You don’t have to understand,” Liliana told him. “Just remember.” She was afraid he wouldn’t remember her advice at the crucial moment. She needed him to remember.
The spider-kin reached across to the big armchair and touched the back of his hand. “You gave me your sweater because I was cold and took glass out of my skin. I don’t want you to die. Remember to remove the needle from the badger.” For a moment, she looked at the goblin, forcing herself to meet his big, wrinkled, oak-brown eyes with her dark blue first eyes.
Doctor Nudd’s deeply tanned face managed to look flushed. He looked down at her small hand on his gnarled fingers. “I shall certainly do my best, madam.”
Liliana nodded and patted his hand, smiling. He would remember. It would buy him time. She would take care of the rest.
She sipped her tea contentedly, enjoying the warm peace of the gentle goblin’s home. This social visiting thing wasn’t so hard, really. She could do this.
Doctor Nudd sipped his tea too.
The ticking of the clock and the crackling of the fire seemed strangely loud in the silence.
Siobhan downed half a bottle of dark beer in a few gulps. “Well, as much of a barrel of monkeys as this is, I’m going to dash.”
Liliana looked around the room, confused. She didn’t see any monkeys.
Doctor Nudd’s eyes widened. “Oh no, no. No need to rush off so soon.”
“Well, you know me. Places to be, toys to tinker with.” Her nimble feet got her to the door before Nudd could lever his large frame from the armchair. She didn’t take the bass guitar with her, so Liliana assumed she would return another time and play music with Doctor Nudd again. Maybe they would let her come next time they played and dance in the grass.
“You really don’t need to leave me here.” A note of something urgent entered Doctor Nudd’s voice. “You should stay for a while.” The note turned to pleading.
Doctor Nudd must really like Siobhan. Liliana wondered if they were lovers. It was forbidden, of course, for two Fae from opposing courts to have a relationship that close, but it still happened sometimes.
Siobhan left with a mischievous grin and a blown kiss. “Best of luck to you, Doc.” To Liliana she gave a cheery wave. “Slán go fóill, spider girl.”
“Goodbye,” Liliana said as social rules required.
The tall, gangly goblin closed the door behind the flower sprite slowly and made his way back to his armchair.
They sat in silence while Liliana sipped her tea.
The goblin tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair.
He crossed his legs.
He uncrossed his legs and crossed them the other way.
His foot tapped in the air.
“So was there something else you wanted to tell me?” Doctor Nudd asked when her tea was gone and she set the cup down.
Liliana considered the question. In addition to sharing one’s home space and sharing food or drink, friendship building usually involved some sort of sharing of personal information. She could find out pretty much anything she wanted to know about the goblin simply by opening her eyes and looking, but he knew almost nothing about her.
“My father was lion-kin,” she said. “He told me about fighting as a gladiator in Rome many centuries ago. But he was an animal tamer in the circus when I was little.”
“Oh?” the goblin said, perking up a bit. “Rome’s heyday was before my time, actually. I’ve never heard of a beast-kin living that long.”
“They don’t, normally. But my father did.”
The clock ticked pleasantly. Liliana enjoyed looking into the flickering light of the fire. She wished her little house had a fireplace.
Doctor Nudd tapped his fingers on his armchair again. “So you’re a pride-child then, one of Andrew’s subjects.”
She nodded. “I swore fealty to Andrew Periclum when he became king after his father died.” Andrew Periclum’s father and his father’s father had been pride-kings in North Carolina. It was expected that the only son would take his father’s place. “It was a surprise to everyone when the old king died. Andrew Periclum was barely twenty, very young for a pride-king.”
Doctor Nudd grunted agreement. “Not many people die in car wrecks anymore.”
Liliana remembered her brother Jason telling her that no one would challenge Andrew Periclum when they had arrived in the broad glade outside of Fayetteville where the succession was to be held. A tree stump had been carved generations ago into the shape of a throne that looked like it simply grew there.
Back then, she had looked at the skinny twenty-year-old who was to be the new King of Lions. “That’s good,” Liliana told her elderly brother. “Because he does not look very formidable.”
Petros chuckled beside her. “Neither do you.”
Challenging the new king was generally only done when the old king had no sons, so combat was necessary to determine who would succeed the dead king. The only other reason for a challenge was if the eldest son, the obvious heir, was considered unfit to rule for some reason.
One sturdy, determined-looking lion-kin in work boots and a plaid shirt had called challenge, much to the surprise of all the other lion-kin, hyena-kin, and other pride related people who had come to witness the succession. The man shifted to demi-lion form and roared, “I am the King of Lions and my word is law!”
A few members of the pride backed the challenger by transforming and roaring agreement that he was the king, not Andrew Periclum.
Since there were now two claimants to the throne with pride members backing both, this meant that the ritual combat had to be fought to determine the new ruler.
There was a whoop of excitement from the crowd, who had come to witness the succession. Several pickups and one large moving van all carried sturdy steel triangles of various sizes and power tools. Liliana had wondered why until that moment. Many hands lifted the triangles out and brought them to the center of the glade.
A muscular giant of a man with night dark skin directed the many volunteers with a booming voice and an air of respected authority. She heard those building the traditional arena call him Mr. Magoro.
Andrew Periclum simply stood by the carved throne, waiting as if bored by it all.
Liliana wondered why Mr. Magoro wasn’t going to be the new king, as he seemed far more suited to leading, but he hadn’t challenged Andrew Periclum.
Within an hour, the triangles were put together like a three-dimensional puzzle into a huge dome. Once completed, the dome of triangles resembled some playground equipment Liliana had seen, but was far larger, over twenty-feet tall in the center. Two smaller domes were attached to it on opposite ends. Melee weapons were placed in the smaller domes–swords, maces, axes, knives, and shields.
The people who came to witness the succession now jostled for the best vantage point around the dome, an air of excitement like the audience at a sporting event taking over the crowd.
Liliana melted into the space between her two elderly, but far larger brothers, never comfortable in a crowd of strangers, but even less so as they got rowdier and noisier and pushier.
Jason and Petros bracketed Liliana, each putting an arm around her, sheltering her with their big bodies as they had since they were children together. Their wives and grown children surrounded them in a clump.
Surrounded by family instead of strangers, she opened her fourth eyes and watched the succession combat from the safe space. Her fourth vision was unimpeded by the many large lion-kin bodies between her petite form and the dome.
Andrew Periclum entered one of the domes through a hinged doorway, and the stocky man who had challenged him entered the other. One person accompanied each of them. The man with the slender, young Periclum was huge, with claw scars across his face. He also looked far more formidable than the skinny, barely grown boy, even though they were about the same age.
Each opponent stripped off their shirts and shoes and chose weapons from those available. Andrew Periclum chose a sword and shield. His opponent chose a two-handed axe. The big man with the scarred face hooked the shield onto Andrew Periclum’s arm, nodded, and opened a hinged section of triangles leading into the big central dome.
The stocky challenger and Andrew Periclum faced each other. Both transformed to big, demi-lion form, with full, shaggy manes falling to the middle of their backs, and fur covering their bare torsos. Andrew Periclum’s mane was scraggly and short. It would probably fill in more when he got older.
They roared, big fangs bared at each other.
The crowd all transformed and roared with them. Liliana felt her brothers shift to demi-lion on either side of her, becoming far larger and furrier. She was used to them doing that, though, so it didn’t disturb her. The sound of so many lions all roaring in one place was gut rumbling and nearly deafening, but oddly comfortable. Lions were family.
When that sound died down, the big man with the scarred face who had helped arm Andrew Periclum shouted, “Begin.”
The crowd shouted a loud whoop and growls of excitement in anticipation of a good fight.
The stocky lion-kin swung his big axe at Andrew Periclum, who ducked neatly, and brought his sword up to the other man’s neck in a single motion.
Stocky lion-kin’s eyes widened. He dropped his axe and raised his hands.
The crowd suddenly got quiet as everyone there held their breaths.
Liliana gasped in surprise. At only twenty, Andrew Periclum was a far more formidable fighter than Liliana would have thought.
“I yield,” the stocky challenger said.
Andrew Periclum chuckled darkly. “You shouldn’t have challenged me in the first place.” And he slashed across the other lion-kin’s throat.
Blood spurted, but Andrew Periclum side-stepped so it didn’t splatter on him.
As the lion-kin who called challenge dropped to his knees, clutching his throat, blood spurting between his fingers, Andrew Periclum turned to the crowd, and roared, “I am the King of Lions and my word is law! Any who say otherwise must face me here!”
After a moment, the crowd erupted in roars and shouts of, “Andrew Periclum is the King of Lions!”
Liliana’s brothers did not join in the shouting. She could feel the rumble in their big furry bodies as they both growled low.
Simon of Nemea, their father, had always taught that it was the height of dishonor to kill after someone had yielded.
Slowly, in the center of the dome, the stocky lion-kin shifted back to human form as he died. A man in worn blue jeans, bare torso stained with blood lay on the grass in the glade.
Her third eyes were also open, and Liliana had rarely seen so much disgust and anger in her brothers’ auras.
Jason and Petros were both too old to call challenge themselves, but she knew they considered it.
Jason had no sons, only daughters, and it was not traditional for lionesses to lead the pride.
Petros’s son stood watching beside his father. He was already middle-aged but had married late in life. He shook his head when his father looked at him. His arm went around the waist of his pregnant wife. His aura showed a mix of protectiveness and fear.
Petros nodded understanding. His son would not risk death in the dome if death meant abandoning his wife and unborn child.
Liliana blinked, bringing herself back to Doctor Nudd’s home with the crackling fire and the sonorously ticking grandfather clock.
Liliana, her brothers, and their families had all sworn fealty to Andrew Periclum on that day about two decades past, even though they didn’t like him, or truly want to serve him. He was the new king of the lion-kin pride of North Carolina, and by extension, leader of all beast-kin in the area. Both her brothers moved away from Fayetteville after that, taking their families with them. They didn’t want to be where the new king would call on them for service to the pride. They feared what he might order them to do.
Andrew Periclum had never asked for any service from Liliana, for which she was glad. She didn’t even know if the pride-king remembered that she was the daughter of a lion, and therefore a pride-child.
Since Liliana had already sunk roots in Fayetteville, her business thriving, her clients counting on her to advise them, her brothers had left Liliana behind. That was the last time she saw them. They had already been old men. She hadn’t watched them after they moved to the coast, not wanting to see her strong brothers wither and die of old age. Lion-kin did not live for thousands of years without the venom of a spider-kin to keep them young.
