With a lingering smile, the woman started off. Utilizing her crutches, she tested the limits of her leg without delay. Small bursts of laughter escaped her as she discovered it supported her weight.
“If it ever needs anything,” Rhirvin shouted, raising a hand, “you know where to find me!”
The woman turned, raising a hand as well. “Thank you, Mr. Kelum. If it ever needs anything, I will surely find you.”
When she departed from sight and earshot, Rhirvin returned his attention to Umbriel. With his hands at his hips, he boasted an aura of pride. “You’re doing a good thing for people, Miss Dasyra.”
“Please, Rhirvin, call me Umbriel,” the Earth Mother said, a radiance about her too. “And yes ... good things seem to be the theme for Southeastern these days.”
“I should say so,” the mechanic laughed, sliding a hand over his head. “How’s things with Nico’s humanitarian efforts panning out?”
“I believe they are going well.” She stretched her arms behind her, feeling the fatigue that accompanied attaching a limb to the human body’s complex nervous system. “He works tirelessly to make sure the people feel heard.” Her look of accomplishment faded from her face. “We do not see each other as much these days.”
Detecting a sudden onset of sadness, Rhirvin tilted his head to the side. He knew her efforts took a great deal of energy from her, but he sensed her vitality shift stemmed from something else. “Are you all right, Umbriel?”
The Earth Mother found the machinist’s gaze. An aura of exhaustion clung to her. She tried to blink it away. Her lips parted to speak, but before she answered, Nicholai’s voice beckoned her attention.
“Rhirvin!” The Time Father approached the two, a grin on his face as he jogged up beside them. He extended a hand to shake. “Always a pleasure to see you, old friend.”
The man gripped Nicholai’s hand firmly, chuckling. “The one and only Nico! How’re things?”
“Great, great,” Nicholai replied, rubbing his hands together in uncaged excitement upon the completion of their handshake. “We’re well ahead of schedule on the institute’s construction. I had no idea how many souls would volunteer to help.” He shook his head as if he didn’t believe his own words. “I thought it was going to take years, but ... people really are coming together. It’s incredible.”
“Ah,” Rhirvin waved his wrist. “It doesn’t surprise me. People want positive change. Sometimes they just need someone else to make that first push.”
Nicholai nodded, absorbing the gravity of his good fortune. He sighed, cheerful as he stood, his hands at his hips. “And you, Rhirvin? Any exciting new inventions in that machine shop of yours?”
The man laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I perfected the cycle’s brakes, finally.” He pointed a finger at Nicholai, grinning. “Thanks again for returning it in one piece.”
With a nervous smirk, Nicholai nodded. “Of course, my friend. My apologies if it reeked of smoke.”
Rhirvin opened his mouth to speak but observed Nicholai’s attention as it shifted to Umbriel. The pair lingered in extended eye contact with one another, not saying a word. No exchange of words followed their near-kiss in the treetops of Nenada’s forest.
The machinist watched as Umbriel cupped her elbow. He continued to watch while Nicholai exuded a hitching breath before he stopped himself. Detecting that words were left unspoken between the two, he cleared his throat. “Well, I should ... get back to my, uh ... inventions,” he said, thumbing in the direction of his shop behind him.
The pair turned to view the man as he took several steps backward. “Uh, of course, Rhirvin,” Nicholai chuckled dimly, lifting a hand to wave. “Until next time, then.”
The man nodded, turning his back toward them as he blew out the breath he had held in his cheeks. Rhirvin Kelum wasn’t sure what was going on between the Time Father and Earth Mother, but he preferred to leave them to their privacy.
Umbriel watched Nicholai, pulling her arms closer around her torso as she looked him over. She smiled. “You look happy.”
Nicholai scratched at the base of his jaw, feeling heat rise in his face. “I am, yes,” he admitted, a quiet laugh slipping between his lips. His jovial appearance dimmed as he tilted his head to the side. “I wish I could say the same for you. Smile or not, you’re ... not yourself.”
Ashamed that she could not disguise it better, Umbriel raised a hand to her face. “It’s ... natural,” she answered, clearing her throat. “As an empathetic person, I am often at the mercy of absorbing other peoples’ emotions. It’s been a rough several years ...” Her voice faded, though she tried to boost her despondency with a smile more optimistic than her previous one. “But I believe the people are filling with hope once more.”
Nicholai’s eyes fell. He had the pleasure of knowing Umbriel for both of those rough years. Feeling he knew her well, his gaze crawled up her ankles, her legs, her torso, until they reached her face. Though he feared her answer, he found himself asking, “Is that all that’s bothering you?”
She could keep nothing past him. Umbriel’s smile adopted a small sliver of authenticity. “I am proud of what you are accomplishing, Nicholai. I am. But with the gods reforesting Panagea more efficiently than you and I ever could, I just ...” Her voice fell. Their weeks spent bringing life to surrounding areas came to an end. Panagea recovered. With the whole of Northwestern covered in woodlands and all of Southwestern, as well, the time they shared became briefer and briefer. “I just miss you ...”
He felt it. The rise in his stomach. The quickening of his pulse. It was the same feeling that sprung on him at random the last several months. The same one he felt in the treetops of Nenada that night. Nicholai’s mouth experienced a dryness as he stood before her, rigid, but genuine. “I miss you too ...”
The pair lingered in eye contact with one another. They bathed in words unsaid. But any opportunities time granted them to speak fell to the wayside when tires rolled up behind them. Nicholai turned, watching as the elaborate steam car belonging to none other than Ganther Odenhardth crawled to a stop before his home.
The blue blood had an uncanny ability to show up when he was not particularly desired.
The driver exited, rushing around to open Ganther’s door. Sunlight caught the unnatural polish off Ganther’s footwear as he stepped out and onto Nenada’s cobblestone streets. He gestured for the chauffeur to return to his position before he inclined his chin and approached the two.
“Ganther,” Nicholai announced, the name coming out flat. “To what do we owe this surprise?”
“I have come to reason with you,” the blue blood announced, not caring to beat around the bush. He dusted off the sleeves of his arms before clasping his hands together. A quiet rage lived inside him. Ganther Odenhardth did not find joy in seeking Nicholai once more, but those who he had sent to pry up unpleasant information regarding the Addihein namesake had failed to produce quick results. He had heard nothing from Barron, nothing from the others. It seemed, if he wanted results, he had to secure them himself.
More frustrations rose still, that Ganther had failed to turn the people of Southeastern away from Nicholai’s favor. He thought, perhaps, revisiting the Time Father’s act of treason when he committed the ultimate taboo of freezing his division would change minds. Ganther’s frustration with the public only grew when they continued to revere the Time Father, despite his sins. Perhaps it was because they were frozen in time and did not know any better. Or, as Ganther had suspected all along, the public was filled with nothing more than thoughtless trash masquerading as human beings. Whatever the case, it irked him. Nothing he found could destroy this man’s public image.
Nicholai stole a final glimpse of Umbriel, his eyes issuing her an apology before he granted Ganther his attention. Putting on his diplomatic face, he swallowed his sigh. “I believe we’ve exhausted all our options as far as reasoning goes, Mr. Odenhardth. But I’m willing to listen to whatever it is you have to say.”
“I am a man of means, Mr. Addihein.” Ganther’s chest puffed as he reached into his interior pocket and pulled out a rattling satchel of coins. “I am certain we can reach an agreement that benefits us both. Every man has a price,” he started, sinking his fingers deeper into the bag. “What’s yours?”
Nicholai eyed the bag, pinching his lips together as he returned his focus to Ganther. “My political persuasion is not for sale.”
“Nonsense.” Ganther’s eye twitched as he held to his fraying calm. “Every man can be bought.”
“I just want what’s best for everyone,” Nicholai’s hand rose, gesturing toward Ganther, “including you.”
The blue blood grew rigid. Firm. His words squeaked out of his mouth tightly. “You are destroying my family legacy. I hardly find that to be good for me.”
Despite the tension, Nicholai laughed. “It’s one plot of land, Ganther. Your family owns half of Panagea. You’ll survive.”
The man huffed at Nicholai’s insolence. “It’s the principle.”
“The principle?” The Time Father felt his voice raise, though he tried to secure his sentiment. “You’re driving the people into the ground. They’re struggling. You built your business off their backs. You need them as much as they need you.” Nicholai shook his head, exasperated. “They’re Panagea’s greatest resource, and we’re letting them suffer. On top of that, they’re human beings—how do you not see that?”
“They chose their life,” Ganther growled, his nostrils flaring, “as I have chosen mine.”
“I’m sorry, Ganther.” Nicholai clenched his jaw, the muscles in his arms flexing as he gripped his palms. “I know you’re not used to being told no, but I won’t relent. I truly believe it’s for the best. You don’t have to respect it, but as a citizen of the Southeastern division, you do have to abide by it.”
Ganther’s lips curled. He lifted his hand to adjust his collar, feeling the sudden heat of adrenaline. “You’re making a mistake,” he whispered.
Unrelenting, Nicholai narrowed his eyes. “I am correcting one.”
Ganther shook. The Time Father’s defiance rattled him. Ganther’s grip on diplomacy fell away. His words flew from his mouth, packed with poison. “It’s been this way for hundreds of years!”
“That doesn’t make it right!” Nicholai retorted, his tone rising with Ganther’s.
Unable to chain his rage any longer, Ganther raised an arm. Nicholai’s mechanical hand shot out, securing around the blue blood’s wrist. The men stared one another down, locked in a heated exchange.
Umbriel tensed, preparing herself to react. Her eyes darted back and forth between the two, as their faces hovered inches apart from the other.
“Without me,” Ganther breathed, vileness in his eyes, “Panagea would have been nothing.”
Nicholai ground his teeth. Without submission, he scowled. “Without them, you would be nothing.”
A vein pulsed in Ganther’s forehead. The nails of his opposite hand bit into the soft skin of his palm. Lassoing his temper, he pulled out of Nicholai’s iron grip and smoothed his clothes.
He felt the weight of eyes on him. Nenada’s residents paused, watching. With a small spasm in his cheek, he turned to Nicholai, lowering his voice. “The Odenhardth name will remain immortal, Nicholai. If you’re not with me, you’re against me.”
Feeling a wave of testosterone flood him, Nicholai drew in an eerily slow breath.
Spying the wildness in his eyes, Umbriel reached out and laid a quiet hand on his shoulder.
Ganther watched, as the Earth Mother’s touch soothed the man’s rage. Nicholai’s shoulders relaxed. His muscles returned to their normal state of ease. Ganther’s eyes narrowed when he observed the two exchange brief eye contact.
Brief. But in that half a second, he witnessed an undeniable volume of feelings. Attraction. He might even guess it was love.
Nicholai swallowed, raising his chin as he looked once more at the societal elite. “We’re through here, Ganther. Please leave.”
It was difficult for him to gulp down his pride. Ganther Odenhardth never walked away from a battle. He never lost a battle. But as more and more eyes joined the crowd of onlookers, he saw the wisdom in a swift departure.
It didn’t matter. He was leaving with more information on Nicholai Addihein than he had before. A weakness, vulnerable for exploitation.
Without another word, and without waiting for the luxury of his chauffer to open his door, Ganther climbed back into his steam car and isolated himself. The engine started. In seconds, the vehicle rattled away.
The silent, hours-long trip back to the Odenhardth mansion gave the chauffer chills.
Upon returning to his homestead, the driver moved to make a quick exit. He knew Ganther did not enjoy waiting longer than he had to for the driver to open his door. The blue blood surprised him, however, when he held up a hand. “Stand down. I will get it myself.”
Lowering his prepped body back into his seat, the chauffer stared at Ganther through the vehicle’s mirrors. He did not know what to say.
The blue blood removed himself from the steam car and started up the steps to his home. A quick adjustment of his collar returned the loosened tie to its former glory. He swept swiftly through the halls, over to a hollow sphere, and opened its top. The contents of a high-class tavern hid inside, boasting various expensive liquors.
The squealing cork was the only sound around him until he poured the amber contents into a crystal glass. Ganther picked up his beverage and gave it several methodical swirls before he took a contemplative sip. The Time Father and the Earth Mother. He was surprised he had not made the connection sooner. Ganther never hesitated to exploit a man’s greatest weakness—and often, those weaknesses directly correlated to the heart—but someone had already beaten him to the murder of Nicholai’s lover.
How fortunate for Ganther that the Time Father seemed to have found another. There was no bargaining chip more effective than the lives of loved ones.
“M’lord?” A knock at his door stole Ganther’s attention. A servant stood at a distance, clutching papers in his hands. “The mail for you, m’lord. Important documents from the Northern division, looks like.”
“Set them on the table,” Ganther ordered with a dismissive flick of his wrist.
“Of course, m’lord.” The servant took a deep breath as if entering Ganther’s chambers required a summoning of courage. He quickly set the papers on the table before excusing himself from the room.
Ganther swallowed another mouthful of the soothing, burning drink. Without abandoning his beverage, he whisked over to the table, lowering himself into a nearby chair. His eyes jumped to the papers. They did not bear the official wax seal of the Northern Time Father, but they were marked from one of the Northern town’s mayors.
He did not wish to burden himself with things. Additional stresses. But perhaps the contents would take his mind off Nicholai Addihein. Much as he wished to devise a strategy to destroy the man, the Southeastern Time Father left a sour taste in his mouth. It was best to think of him in small doses.
Balancing his drink carefully on his knee, Ganther reached over to grab the letter. Forgoing the gentlemanly act of utilizing his letter opener, the depleted man tore it open with his bare hands. His eyes scanned it hastily.
He chastised himself for not leaving it on the table to be dealt with later.
The body of his great-nephew had been discovered in the Northern town of Breffery. What was left to be identified, after the corpse fell from an incredible height, had evidence of bullet wounds. It was a letter of condolence from Breffery’s mayor.
Ganther’s jaw tightened. The audacity of someone murdering a blue blood was not to be taken lightly. The Northern division employed many ornithopters, however. Discovering who, exactly, ended his nephew’s life would be a challenge.
He folded the letter back to its original state and returned it to its envelope. He’d deal with it later. While it was a
stab against the Odenhardth namesake, it wasn’t as if it was his favorite nephew in Panagea ... and now he’d have to work the inconvenience of attending a funeral somewhere into his already busy life.
Another knock at the door earned Ganther’s contempt. “What is it now?” he barked, the noise jarring.
Without waiting for an invitation, Barron’s boots carried him across the room. Over the fancy rugs and into Ganther’s space, he plopped himself down in the chair across from the blue blood’s. He wore a grin on his face, clutching papers in his hands.
“Barron.” Ganther lifted his drink, bleeding it dry before he set the glass on the table. His face showed his surprise at the man’s unannounced presence. “You’d best come bearing good news. I don’t know that I could take another set-back today.” He straightened himself from his slouched position, analyzing his visitor with suspicious optimism. “Then again, I trust you wouldn’t show unless you had something valuable to say to me.”
Barron’s grin only grew broader. “I trust you have something valuable to show me if you want the information I found.”
Ganther’s cold stare pierced the informant. He showed no appreciation for Barron’s smug attitude, but a small thrill leaped at the possibility behind the man’s discovery. With his elbow on the chair’s arm and his index finger pressed into his temple, he sighed, reaching into his pocket to seize the money Nicholai had rejected. He tossed it to Barron without ceremony.
The man caught it, jostling the unseen coins in his palm to assess the amount without opening the bag. Satisfied with the weight of it all, he leaned forward, holding out a letter.
“What is this?” Ganther murmured, barely reaching over to take the documents. The last letter he had opened did not treat him nicely; he was soured on the experience altogether.
After setting the satchel safely into the lining of his pockets, Barron leaned back, feeling the relaxation of financial freedom. “The record keeper at the archives said Nordjan would be our best bet to gain information on the elder Addihein,” he said, folding his arms behind his head as he crossed one leg over the other. “So, after I found what I needed in Western, I paid the Northern Father a little visit. Took me a little longer than normal; sorry to keep you waiting. But I think you’ll like the results.”
The Panagea Tales Box Set Page 105