by Gin Hollan
"And what does it mean?" Sam asked.
His hesitation bothered her. It worried her, actually. In the end, her strange blood didn't mean anything, but this would change their core beliefs about who she was. She wasn't about to dispel the myth of her heritage here, where it could well keep her and the others safe.
"My grandfather was part of a team fighting an unnatural Army. The only way they could succeed was by altering their own physiology."
"Are you still human?" Graham looked intrigued.
“Let's test you and Sam,” Arabeth said, then looked at the clerk.
"Of course we're human!" Melanie snapped "She's got human parents, remember?"
"But that's why you always get that one doctor? I always thought that was odd," Melanie said, smiling.
Sam held his hand out for the man to test. His expression was guarded, and Arabeth couldn't tell what his motivation was, but at least he was willing. She already knew what his result would be. He had the silver, too. She'd known for a while, but it as a weird topic. She'd never told him.
Graham hesitated to get tested but the man insisted.
"You're taking this a lot better than I thought you would," Arabeth smiled at Melanie.
"Are you kidding? Nothing about me is normal, anyway. It's nice to have an explanation now."
Graham's expression clouded over when the test revealed his was normal human blood. “There you have it. I'm boring. Happy now?” He said.
Arabeth laughed. "It's all good, Graham. You don't want this." She turned to the clerk. "Thank you for your help. We won't forget it."
"But what about the competition?" Graham's voice went up a notch.
"If you want to come back in a month and compete as a guest, you can do that with Miss Barnes' or this other lady's signature," the clerk said. "You won't be eligible for any prizes, but you would be a great asset to any team, I'm sure."
“Since we're here, maybe we can spectate," Arabeth suggested. Frankly, she'd like to watch it once before any of them jumped in head-long.
"No, I'm sure we all have better things to do," he shrugged, nose crinkled with disappointment.
"No one is more disappointed than we are at not seeing you compete, Graham," she laughed. "You have a flare for the work."
He looked up at her, eyes wide then laughed.
Sam frowned and looked at Melanie.
"He likes to make things that explode."
"So, we're staying?" Sam asked.
That made them all pause. Stay or go home. That was becoming an increasingly complicated question but waiting for a month just to compete in a Tinkering competition was fluff.
“We can't afford to,” Arabeth said, her exasperation showing. She had a mission and people had to stop derailing it.
// Chapter 17 //
“Now that we're not being followed, escorted, or chased, I need to eat," Melanie said. "Can we grab something hot and fresh?"
"We'll need to park the horse first," Arabeth agreed.
"If there's a stable, I'm guessing it's near an exit or in the basement so the smell drifts less," Sam said.
"Let's ask someone," Melanie offered then stopped to point at something. "Or go read that."
They walked over to a large, colourful map sitting on a slanted pedestal.
"All right... uh, do any of you understand what language this is?"
"Symbols are symbols," Graham said, leaning in to look.
"Look for a town hall or mayor's office. Whatever they'd call it here," Melanie said.
"Ah, ha!" Arabeth said, pointing at a small blue square. "That is a hotel. They'll know where everything is. They may even have a map."
Melanie made a face. "Fine, we'll take the easy answer."
When everyone laughed, it was like their tension evaporated. Arabeth wondered if they'd ever operate as a team, even with Graham's impended defection. It was good to see Sam smile again. And laughing. They'd needed that.
She locked the moment away in her memory, knowing that she had hard days coming. Confronting a king over an incursion could get her killed, maybe... probably. She needed a strategy.
They found the hotel and to Arabeth's relief, it had a six stall stable. The doors into the lobby stood twenty feet tall, but narrow, with a lounge area that was more coffee shop that waiting area. The stable sat around to the right.
"What is your horse's name?" the hotel clerk asked. It was another young woman. Was this normal here?
"Dave," Sam said.
"What?" Arabeth said, almost laughing as she lifted Marble off the horse's back.
"I've never named a horse before. This one seems like a Dave."
"Except that it's a mare. She needs a girl's name," Arabeth said.
"Then Davin. That name works for both genders," he said.
"Sure. Davin," she turned to the hotel clerk. "The horse's name is Davin."
The horse's ears flicked forward, as though it realized it was being talked about. Arabeth ran her head down it's face softly, smiling. "I like that. Davin."
"Is that a short horse's name? 'Cause this is a short horse. Almost a pony," Melanie joked. "I've never been comfortable around horses, but Davin seems right."
Within moments they were registered and ready to get settled in. The clerk gave her a map. The hotel seemed large, being three floors up, with dozens of rooms on each floor.
"I'll take her to the stable. You all can get settled in your rooms and then meet back here for dinner," she suggested.
"Sounds good," Graham said.
"Graham and Melanie can get our rooms sorted. I'll lead her. You're carrying Marble," Sam said. "I want to see where our newly inaugurated horse will be staying,"
Arabeth caught a curious look in his eyes and nodded. "If you two don't mind...."
"No," Melanie and Graham both said, exchanging a look.
The clerk handed them keys and explained how to find their rooms. "Take a chair lift up to the fourth floor, turn and go down the hall to the left. Your rooms will be on the right side - numbers 4211 and 4213." She handed each of them a key.
“Follow me to Davin's stall,” she smiled and walked to a wide hall off the main area.
"Here we are.” She pushed a half-gate open. “She'll be kept in hay and water, but if you are here more than a day, I suggest you come down to walk her. They seem to like that."
Sam walked her into the ten by ten square pen as Arabeth marvelled that an underground city would allow so much space for one horse. Then again, she was paying very well for said space, and people probably put a couple horses in at time. That was fine. Davin didn't seem to be a young horse, although Arabeth hadn't checked her teeth for age. She'd probably earned a bit of luxury.
Davin walked back to the door and watched them walk away before she turned to her feed, unconcerned. Sam put his arm around Arabeth's shoulder as they walked away. A clerk hurried past, not giving them a second look.
"I want people to know they'll have to go through me to get to you," he explained.
“It seems unnecessary....” she said softly. Of course, he'd say this. He was always charmingly protective. "But it's probably wise, considering our circumstances."
Now, away from the assumptive glances and gossip of home, he was being more open about his feelings toward her. How had she never caught on? She considered moving is arm, thinking about how he didn't say something before she got married. What man does that?
Forget that - how had she never known her own feelings for him? She blushed and looked away, pretending to look at the wall art as they walked to the dining area.
“I don't see them yet. Maybe we should find our rooms,” Arabeth said. “Good food tastes better with clean teeth.”
“Alright,” Sam said, still resting his arm across her shoulders.
Using the swing lifts, an unnerving task considering they were using unmanned pulleys and levers, they found their floor. Sam put his arm around her shoulder again as the walked to 4211.
Arabeth trie
d her key first. It worked and she opened the door. Melanie came walking over, grinning oddly.
"I'm not sure what kind of culture we've stumbled into, but they must have expected me to sleep in the same room as Graham without a ring on either of our hands. As if!" she snorted.
"Yes, a lady like yourself should be cautious," Sam smirked.
"Anyway, I had a maid let me in." She stuck a key out Sam's direction and held her hand out for the other one. "Good luck sleeping. I'm sure he snores. We're going down for supper soon?"
“Yes,” Arabeth frowned. "I'm sure the maid didn't just let you in," Arabeth said, shutting the door as Sam left.
"Well, not straight away. She did have to confirm." She dropped onto one of the two beds, bouncing to test it. "They're soft. Really soft. And they smell good. I don't know how I'm going to sleep, but I'm going to give it my best effort."
"I'm looking forward to a proper shower," Arabeth said, going to check the bathing room.
"Can we shop? I know you'll run out of money soon, but I really need new socks and so forth." She fiddled with her shirt. "I smell horrifying. I'm glad they provide soap - I'm showering with my clothes, so I can clean them, but I think this shirt needs an overnight soak."
"Want a surprise?" Arabeth walked out of the bathing room holding up a soft, fluffy housecoat and a cloth bag. "We can send our clothes out for cleaning. If we stick them in this bag tonight, they'll be cleaned and waiting on the door by morning."
"I love hotels!" Melanie nearly yelled as she jumped up to grab the housecoat. "Can we get food at night, too?"
"I'm sure it's possible, but let's not," Arabeth said as she walked back to have her shower. Locking the door behind her, she felt at peace for the first time in days. It wouldn't last, but she had this moment. She was glad for that.
As she pondered their situation, a growing sense of unease filled her. It all boiled back to Sebastian, still. He was the one who said she should look to the king if she wanted to catch the person responsible for attacking Blastborn. He was the reason Heather and Mable disappeared without a word.
How had he known their full names, background, and their current location? They hadn't shared more than first names at the gypsy camp. And he had stolen her listening device. What was the point of that, if he already had an effective method in place? Had he sent her off after the king as a decoy?
Finished her shower, she hurried to get ready for dinner but putting on dirty clothes felt counter-productive. She shrugged them on anyway and straightened herself out as best she could. Dinner. A hot plate of something made to order sounded like heaven, even if she wore rags.
They'd have to find a place that understood the nature of travel. Hopefully they had roast fowl. And some mixed sweet vegetables. She caught herself thinking a moment too long about food and laughed.
"Ready?" she asked Melanie.
Melanie just nodded, her eyes on something in the unseen distance, beyond the walls. That was odd.
"What's going on, Mel?"
"Nothing... I mean, I hope not."
"Talk," Arabeth said, sitting in a nearby chair.
"I don't want to worry you."
"You already are, so tell me what's going on."
"It's fine. I was just thinking, but it's nothing serious. Certainly nothing impending."
"Not yet, you mean."
"Right. Not yet. Let's not spoil our dinner."
Arabeth smiled, but it felt weak. If Melanie's thoughts were based on periphery information stored in her subconscious, they should pay attention. But later, after dinner.
The ladies went into the hall and knocked on Sam and Graham's door, although they had adjoining rooms and could have easily all left from one room. Was that another moral slip this culture had made, or was it coincidence? Arabeth chose coincidence.
"We should try the hotel restaurant," Graham said.
"They'll be used to travellers. They might not even view us as completely grubby," Melanie added.
"Did the clerk give you a coupon or something to say that?" Sam laughed.
They walked to the swing lift but Arabeth hesitated at the entrance. How often these were used? Melanie was right when she said a person couldn't have a problem with heights and live in this place. Sitting on it as it rose was one thing, but this time they'd be going down four stories - and it would feel a little like falling, like a controlled crash.
"Prefer the stairs?" Sam asked.
"Well, no. It's just... we're putting a lot of faith in these."
"No different than a lift, except it's only lowering your weight, not an entire carriage," Sam added.
"And you can look down to see how far and fast you go," Melanie added, with a chuckle.
Sighing, Arabeth stepped into the loading area and sat down. She didn't think of herself as the cautious one, but this trip was making her second-guess that. Melanie, who usually second-guessed everything and hesitated constantly, now acted quite the opposite.
"When you're already in the pond, you should swim," she said.
"Right, that's the spirit!" Melanie smiled.
// Chapter 18 //
They were seated at a comfortably sized round table, examining the menu when a young man walked up and sat with them.
"This is probably rude, but we need to talk," he said, waving to a waiter for another menu.
"You're dressed as a friar," Melanie said.
"Observant," Graham rolled his eyes.
“What can we do for you?" Arabeth asked, not letting his sudden approach put her off.
"I'm here to help you."
"Really? How much will it cost us?" Sam said.
The youth blinked a few times, then smiled. "Well, nothing. Friars don't get paid. You can send a donation, but you don't give me anything."
"And how do we know this isn't a charade?" Graham continued.
Their waiter came over and set a bowl of bread sticks in the middle of the table to politely get their attention.
"Would you like to order now?" he asked.
The friar added a bowl of chicken soup to their bill and munched on some bread sticks as he waited for their attention. He was pretty skinny, Arabeth realized. Thick dark brown curly hair, bright green eyes, a ready smile, and a friar's robe couldn't hide that. He seemed healthy, though.
All eyes turned to the kid again as the waiter walked away.
"Right, as I was saying, I can help you. All I ask is that you let me travel with you a while. I can't say why I feel compelled to do this, but there it is."
"Can't say?" Sam asked.
"I don't have the words to explain," he said. "I think it's a 'God' thing. I'm still new to the friary."
Graham smirked but didn't say anything, but Arabeth wasn't about to discount matters of faith. He was on their side. That counted as good, so far.
"We're not going to be interesting. We're just headed home," Arabeth shook her head, wondering if this kid was what set off her foreboding.
"That's fine. I like travel."
"What's to prove you're not a thief in friar's clothing?" Sam asked. He didn't seem suspicious.
"I... uh, well... I guess nothing. I've never been out in these clothes, so no one can tell you it's my new normal. But I'm no thief. I mean, I was. That's how I wound up in Friar's garb. I'm not a thief now."
"How old are you, kid?" Melanie asked, munching on a bread stick. “What's your name?”
"Kennen, and I'm seventeen. And a half."
"So, why help us? Kennen with no last name,” Arabeth smiled, not quite sure what to think of the interloper.
"I told you, it's a 'God' thing." His soup arrived, distracting him. A moment passed, then another as he busily worked on the large bowlful.
"And...?" Melanie prompted.
"Oh, and I overheard some of the monks talking about you and how pathetic your situation is."
"That's relevant. Why didn't you start with that?" Sam said.
"Well, you really wouldn't have believed me then." His
frown deepened.
"What is less believable than a 'God' thing, as you call it?" Arabeth said, oddly patient with his faith-based explanation.
"The toxic crystals you had - do you still have them?" he asked.
"Sure, they're stored until we leave," Arabeth said.
"Once they're cleared up again, they can be used to hear things far away."
Like Arabeth's listening device, she realized. Why would Sebastian take her device, then? Was he afraid she would use it against him, or was it as much a mystery to him as the crystals were to her?
"This is about Sebastian again, isn't it?" she asked.
"I am getting sick of that name," Sam grumbled.
"No, not really. He wants us reporting everything we do because he donates, but I’d rather be stuffed in a crate and sent to Anataka. That man gives me the creeps."
"Back to the crystals," Melanie said, leaning forward. "What do you mean, they can listen? What's the range on them?"
Arabeth suddenly reached into her pocket, feeling for the crystal she had tucked away. It was still there. Was it a transmitter of some kind? Were they being listened to using that?
"I'm not sure. Pretty far. Once they're set up in a pattern, sound starts to resonate between them when the distant crystal feels voice vibrations. In essence, the field crystals relay that voice."
"The field behind the castle seemed pretty organized," Melanie said.
"And sections did seem to follow patterns," Arabeth agreed. "But why didn't we hear anything?"
"He may have taken the key crystal out while you were there."
"What's that, and why do you know so much about this?" Graham asked.
"There's only so much to do at the Friary. Reading passes the time."
"You didn't happen to bring one of those books, did you?" Arabeth felt her hopes rising.
"No, most crystal chatter is experimental. I'm not even sure how I got that book. It was just there, on my bed one day."
"Seems convenient, right?" Sam said.
"Too right," Melanie agreed.
Arabeth considered the crystal in her pocket. Had she interrupted a pattern when she took it? Who was he using that field to listen in on? She would have to be an idiot to think he would let her freely walk around, opening up secret channels and finding out who he was eavesdropping on. She'd have to drop this crystal in a box too. Maybe something padded, so the vibrations around it seemed minimal.