The Ranger: Apollo's Story (Tales of Welkinia Book 2)

by J. M. Ivie

  I wished Jensen sent Barak in my stead. He had far more experience with women and how to deal with them. I breathed in and tried to realign my mind. Removed from my usual routine had already warped my brain, and I had been struggling to come to grips with the new time my body found itself in. When I rounded the corner I collided with someone. I stumbled backward.

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” a woman mumbled, picking up papers and threads.

  “It was my fault, don’t apologize.” I knelt down and began helping her pick up her things. I collected threads, patches of fabric, and sketches scattered all over the floor.

  “Thank you.” She turned to look at me with a ruby-lipped smile. Her coiled curls tickled her round jawline, and bangs covered her forehead. Her skin, a shade darker than Zahra’s, had the same satin-smooth texture. Her eyes were her opposite, well near black, like unlit coals ready to ignite. “I’m Nora. You must be the Archivist Zahra was telling me about? Mr. Andras Faithe?”

  “Yes. But please, I don't use my first name. Call me Apollo.” I accepted her outstretched hand and shook it. She was tiny, the top of her head coming at my chest. She would be one I needed to keep an eye on… “You’re on a first name basis with the Countess?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” She raised a brow, shifting her weight to the side to support the hand she propped on her hip.

  I chuckled, looking over the bundle in her arms. “Need help with that?”

  “Oh, thank you! I would appreciate the help. Actually—” she looked me over, “you’re just the right height.”

  “Pardon?”

  Before I received an answer, she pushed her bundle into my arms and gestured for me to follow. I did so without objection. I was curious where she was leading me.

  “Here we are!” She pulled off her shawl and spun around the dome-shaped room. The wide windows shed light on the many brightly colored fabrics that lined the walls. The only exit and entrance lay behind me. I noticed a machine in the room’s center, with small scissors placed here and there, occasionally mingled between tonged equipment. “My Nora Study, or my Noradom. Not sure what I will put on the plaque, though, I’m leading toward the latter.”

  I tried my best to suppress the laugh that inevitably surfaced. “Why am I here?” I placed the items I carried in on the desk, noting all the little items that could become weapons if needed.

  “Ah. Well, despite having a ladder, I still can’t reach it.” She motioned to a box on the top shelf. “I’m not tall, so I have been struggling to grab it for the last twenty-four hours!”

  “You’ve been reaching for that box for a whole day?”

  “Well, not a whole day. Half of the time I have been scheming on ways to get it down.”

  “And no one appeared during that entire time?”

  “There are a few rules.” Nora rested her hands on her hips as she blew a curl away, “One of them is no one—unless the house is on fire or if chocolate is being served—is to disturb me in this room. No one.”

  I shook my head and laughed. After grabbing hold of the ladder, I climbed to the top and fetched the box she had so desired.

  “Ah! So beautiful, thank you, love!” Nora snatched the box away from me and placed it on the table. She took in a deep breath as if preparing herself for something amazing.

  “What’s in the box?” I asked, looking over her.

  “Shh. You will ruin the moment if you speak another word!” Nora looked up at me—frustrated. “So either shush or leave.”

  I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t pull myself away… not until I saw what was so important. Finally she snapped the locks from the lid and pulled it open.

  S E V E N

  I PEERED INTO THE BOX, utterly let down after I saw what was inside. I expected a long-forgotten treasure, or some delicate artifact. With all the fuss she made, I expected more; however, what met my vision were sheets upon sheets of lace. She picked up a handful, allowing the web-like material to weave through her fingers.

  “Really?”

  Nora scowled as she held a sheet up for me to see. “Yes, really! Look at this! Only the most expensive materials were used in crafting these. Each one is unique and different. Custom made. Priceless! The work of a master.”

  “If they are priceless then why did you stuff them into a rusty old box?”

  She snorted a laugh and threw me a mischievous grin. “I’ll tell you why, Archivist. If any robber were to break into this room, they would take everything else but this rusty box.”

  “As would I! I still don’t see any value in these laces.”

  Nora’s face puckered. “You’re a rib, Mr. Faithe.” She fidgeted with the silky lace, letting the soft material caress her fingertips. “Come.” She turned, grabbed hold of my cravat, and tugged me toward the window. She held the lace up to the light, “Hold your hands below the shadow.”

  Curious, I did as she said and let the lace cast its shadow on my hands. The image of a phoenix danced along my fingers with wings which appeared to flap, and flames that seemed to burn. “How?” I looked up at her, finding her face still stern and her features piqued.

  “Because, I told you. The work of a master.”

  I dropped my hands and looked at her. “I apologize for insulting your laces, my lady, before I knew more.”

  She laughed at me, plopped the lace into my hands, “Apology accepted,” and scuttled off to her machine. “Keep the phoenix lace. Let it remind you of this moment and to keep your mouth shut more.” She winked at me and gestured for the door.

  “I cannot keep the lace, my lady. You said it yourself… it’s one of a kind.”

  She grinned, tracing her finger along the rim of the open box, “Don’t worry,” she paused, looking at me without moving her head, “If I ever truly miss it, I can make another.”

  My jaw dropped and my stomach twisted, “You made these?”

  She nodded. “Oh, and Apollo,” she said. “No more ‘my lady’. Please, call me Nora.” She smiled and pointed her chin to the door. “Go on, love. The Countess is waiting.”

  ___

  I folded the lace and placed it in my coat pocket as I began my trek toward the library. My stomach growled and my hands shook. When I glanced at the clock mounted on the wall above the statue of the Winged Man, I noticed it was half-past nine. I cursed below my breath, realizing I missed my meeting with Zahra by a half hour.

  From the corner of my eye I saw her. She had pulled her hair up on one side and secured the curls with a hummingbird clip, drawing attention to her slender neck. Despite the nagging fear still stirring in my gut, I had to admit that she looked stunning. My heart seemed to shift inside my chest, moving about till it buried itself in my throat.

  “Ah, Mr. Faithe! I’ve been waiting for you.” She tapped her wrist in gesture for the time, “You missed our breakfast meeting.”

  I bowed my head to her, my heart pounding against my bones. “Forgive me. I lost track of the time.” I scratched my neck, struggling to soothe my prickled nerves.

  Her brow quirked upward, her silent show of disapproving my tardiness. “I hope this will not be a foreshadowing of what is coming.” Her left cheek sank in, wedged between her beautiful teeth I imagined. “Well, come along. We can talk over what I need from you.” She spun on her heel and walked. I followed.

  The delicate sway of her body hypnotized me, causing reason to slowly slip from my grasp. Zahra is a Countess. I hate her and those like her… I nearly groaned aloud. The feeble sound of protest grew louder in my heart till a tangible pain took its place.

  I stopped as the warm sun traced my face. I watched small birds flutter back and forth, drinking the water which danced in the fountain nearby.

  Zahra rang the bell at the door and waited patiently. A servant came out not too long afterward. She muttered something, asked her a question, the servant shook her head, and Zahra nodded. After a moment, the servant left, and Zahra walked over to me.

  “Come, sit.”
Zahra settled herself into a seat, pointing out a heavy leather-bound notebook. “The most important documents are on this list here. They need to be examined thoroughly, cleaned, and placed in the new glass cabinet Azu purchased.” She handed me a paper with words scribbled on it. “Next you are to file my mother’s personal letters by date and sender.”

  My stomach dropped inside. It was bad enough I was wearing the attire of a mudscraper, but to organize an entire library and office mindlessly? That seemed a unique type of torture.

  “I would also appreciate it if you can make a list of the letters and packages that arrived. I’ve tried my best to go through them, but, reading books and letters all day can get tiring. I need to answer the oldest first and so on.” She took in a breath of air. “And then we have the library itself. Books need to be wiped down and organized according to the author on the shelves, and sub-categorized alphabetically.”

  I sighed and looked over the document she slipped across the table toward me. “Anything else?”

  She nodded. “At the end of every day you need to report to me directly. If anything has confused you, put it aside and we will talk it over when I get the chance.”

  I nodded. “Well, when will I be introduced to my master?”

  Zahra tilted her head to the side as if confused by what I said.

  “The library.” I laughed, brushing off my hands. “My master—the library.”

  “Oh!” She giggled, pressing the heel of her palm to her forehead. “Forgive me, my mind is otherwise occupied this morning.”

  “Ah! The Archivist and the Countess!” Nora settled in to a seat beside Zahra, nestling close to her. “Is he behaving, love?”

  The Countess shook her head, laughing. “I feel as if you and Mr. Faithe have already met.”

  I nodded, “Yes, she was the other reason I was late for our meeting.”

  “Well, that makes sense.”

  Nora’s eyes widened. “If he didn’t appear to your meeting, it was purely his own fault,” she grumbled. “He didn’t need to help me.”

  Zahra turned and looked at me with a soft grin, something between surprise and adoration.

  Nora thumbed at the large document in the table’s center, “Has he shown you his remarkable gift?”

  “What gift?” Zahra and I both asked in unison.

  “His gift of making amazing assumptions.”

  Zahra rolled her lips, doing a not-so-great job of hiding a smile. “Well! As much as I would enjoy staying with the both of you and talking, I must be leaving. I will speak to you tonight, Mr. Faithe.” Zahra bent her head and walked away just as the servants brought out breakfast.

  “Well, well, well! Looks like we will eat together this morning, Mr. Faithe,” Nora giggled, rubbing her hands together as the servants set the food down on the table. “Unless you find my company nauseating.”

  “You have a truculent personality, honestly. It’s very abrasive.”

  She tilted her glass with a grin, “Not as abrasive as yours, I can assure you.” After a moment of quiet, Nora stared at me long and hard. I wished I could know what she was thinking. I assumed she was studying me.

  “Is it rare that you be in such close company with a commoner?” I asked. “Are we as vile as you assume?”

  “You’re quick of tongue, Mr. Faithe. Perhaps it would appear wise if you kept some of that salvo to yourself. At least, until you know who it is you are speaking to,” Nora muttered through a grin.

  I laughed, shaking my head. “I am fairly certain I know who I am speaking to. You’re a Noble, are you not?”

  “Your gift of making assumptions is honestly mind-boggling.” Nora grinned as she poked at her food with her fork. “Baroness, actually, seeing I haven’t been born into the Hierarchy. Zahra’s mother, the former Countess of Winsdale, employed my mother as her seamstress. They weren’t as close as Zahra and me but they were close just the same.” She chewed her food whilst talking, head bent toward her bowl, “Mother passed away ten years ago, and I was destitute before I invented those laces. The women become undone around them! Some men find them fascinating as well. The laces drew attention to my garments… and well, I only create dresses for the most reputable of customers. I keep them guessing. Brilliant, is it not? Flip the table on them. I used to beg for work, and now they beg for my services.”

  I released a sigh, finally understanding her. “So, you followed in your mother’s footsteps and became a seamstress.”

  She nodded. “I love sewing. Especially sewing for Zahra. She has such a lovely figure and looks amazing in all kinds of outfits, don’t you agree?”

  A lump formed in my throat and it became difficult to swallow my food. When I tried to force it down, I coughed.

  Nora clicked her tongue and leaned back, surely knowing what she had done. “What about you, Apollo? Was your father also an Archivist?”

  My head felt as if it were spinning. The only thing I remembered was: he was a Noble. A Noble who had cast my mother and me from the society and him with no explanation. “No. I don’t know what he did,” I lied.

  Her eyes darted up, staring straight into mine. “What about your mother?”

  “I’ve been on my own since I was seven.” I wanted out of this uncomfortable conversation.

  “What happened to her?”

  Rage boiled in my stomach, and, judging from her expression, the same fire that welled in my gut worked its way into my eyes. “She was… taken.”

  Nora blinked a few times. It was as if she tried to apologize with her expression for asking.

  “I raised myself since seven,” I said, trying to ease out of the subject. “If you couldn’t already tell.”

  She smiled. “I was wondering why your manners are so deplorable.”

  “Tell me, does the Countess have any suitors?” I asked to change the topic.

  “Ah, are you interested in her?” She leaned forward.

  “Is it wrong to just inquire?”

  “Not unless you mean something vile by it.”

  “I mean nothing by it, just merely curious.”

  “You’re testy, aren’t you?” Nora grinned and nodded. “Well, there are several men… one in particular doesn’t seem to give up. He is an uptight pig if I say so myself. Though, he is handsome, and tall, and rich.” She shot me a sideways glance, as if trying to assess my mood. “His name is Rai Masters, Emperor of the Crēov province, the protector of Autumnfall, and the Lord of Hurricane Hall.”

  E I G H T

  I ENTERED THE LIBRARY with little anticipation. Once the large, beveled glass doors opened I froze. A beautiful sight lay before me, yet, I dreaded every inch. Books, crammed into the shelves that lined the walls along three levels, bombarded my vision with color. A vast open window stood at the end of the library. There were tables, a small office tucked into the corner of the room where I was to work, and red velvet carpets along the hardwood floors.

  With a glance to my left, I found the Countess’ study. It was twice the size as I expected it to be. A pair of glittering stained glass doors led out into the garden. The ability to move quickly and agilely seemed to be at a disadvantage in this room.

  “I see you have found your master.”

  I turned to see the Countess walking out of a secluded corner of the library. My heart skipped a beat seeing her. I bowed, “Yes, it seems I have.”

  “How do you like her?”

  “Her?” I watched her, uncertain how to respond. “She is beautiful. Elegant. And I dislike her very much.”

  “Do you always speak so candidly, Mr. Faithe?” Countess Zahra circled me.

  “You asked what I thought.”

  A smile spread on her face, “So I did.”

  I turned to face her, and my eyes fell into hers. It was like staring into an emerald with a star trapped within the layers of crystal. Beautiful, unique, and puzzling. There were mysteries which hid behind those eyes—ones which unsettled me.

  “Something you wish to say, Mr. Faithe?
”

  She jarred me from my thoughts, causing my heart to race. “No, my lady.” I bowed, trying my best to break eye contact with her.

  “I’ll be in my study. If you need me, you will find me there.” Zahra turned around, and I watched her till she vanished beyond the doorway.

  ___

  The day ticked away slowly. Every second passed like slow torture. I hauled books from a shelf and placed them on the table. After I cleaned them and made far too many notes, I traversed up the ladder and grabbed another bundle of books.

  “Mr. Faithe?”

  Zahra’s voice startled me. Not used to the new slick spats, my foot slid, and I toppled off the ladder. I could only watch, helpless, as books tumbled on top of me.

  “I’m so sorry! Are you all right?” She hurried to my side, clutching her dove-pin around her neck.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I laughed, more shocked by my clumsiness than the actual pain in my left arm and cheek.

  “Your elbow!” Zahra grabbed my arm and showed me the sleeve of my shirt cut open—my elbow covered in blood.

  I cursed below my breath. “A fall couldn’t have—” I stopped after catching sight of a rogue nail sticking out from the floorboard.

  “Here, come along. We need to clean that.” Zahra’s brows knitted as she stood.

  “It’s nothing you need to bother yourself with, my lady.”

  “Nonsense. It was my fault you fell. You’re in my home, and you’re under my protection, so come along, Mr. Faithe.”

  I paused. The way my name fell from her lips unnerved me. “Call me Apollo, please. I’m not used to the formality.”

  Her body tensed as she stopped. After a moment she relaxed and smiled. “Only if you’ll do the same for me.”

  My heart skipped a beat. Perhaps that was worth getting cut up for.

  ___

  I sat in the large bathing room with my sleeves rolled halfway up my bicep. Zahra had vanished behind a doorway and I was alone. The room smelt clean, with the distinct scent of roses and vanilla. I tried to place it. It smelt vaguely familiar. The smell seemed to soothe and excite all at once. I wasn’t sure what it was… I shook the thought away and tilted my head to examine the rest of the room. There was a tub dug into the middle of the glossy quartz floor, half shrouded from my view by a white room divider. The place was dome shaped and made entirely of glass. From the panes, I could see the garden that surrounded it. I hoped that if you looked from the outside, the entire place would appear like a mirror, allowing the privacy one needed.