Angst Box Set 2

by David Pedersen

  “Ooh,” she said, gawking all around in wonder.

  His heart thrummed in his ears as she looked up and down the street. It was peacefully quiet, being far too early for even the greediest of merchants. What he’d always taken in stride, Ada took in with gasps. The stone road was moist from melted snow, and wide enough to allow the passage of several wheeled carts. Her round eyes and dropped jaw made him look about. Sidewalks of cobblestone framed both sides of the road, and every hundred feet stood a black pole with a lantern that glowed brightly in the early morning haze. Glass-windowed shops along the sidewalks displayed food, and drink, and clothes, and everything Ada had never seen.

  “Is the whole world like this?” Ada asked.

  “No.” He chuckled. “Most of Yulth is woods, and mountains, and oceans. This is just one town in the kingdom of Pag.”

  “There are more?” she asked in wonder. “Can we see those too?”

  “Lots more,” he said. “But most are even more boring than Durgoon. It’s probably a little more exciting here since it’s a port town. We get a lot of ships and traders, but that just means people are busy and rude all the time.”

  “Oh,” she said.

  “But maybe someday we should go to a city,” he said, trying to keep up her excitement. “There are six in Pag, the biggest being the capital. They are huge, with more people than you can count. Mum says that’s where all the money from the towns go, so everything is beautiful.”

  “Maybe we should go there now,” she said, practically jumping up and down.

  “It takes days to get to a city. We should probably go home,” he whispered. “People will be up and about soon.”

  “No way,” she said. “We just got here. Quit being a ninny.”

  “I’m not a ninny,” he said.

  “Let’s go there,” Ada said, pointing at a bakery. She scrambled across the street before he could stop her.

  “Wait,” he said, a little too loudly. He followed her as she approached the window. “You’ve got to be more careful.”

  “No one is here to see us,” she said.

  “But horses and carriages cross that road all the time,” he said in concern. “They’d make a mess of you!”

  “What’s that?” she asked, pointing at the window.

  “Cake,” he said longingly. “It’s cake.”

  It wasn’t merely cake being displayed in the window, it was art. This confectionery was known to produce the finest, most beautiful, most expensive cakes in all of Durgoon. The cake stood in three tall layers of succulent red frosting thick and solid-looking as any wall. Yellow frosting laced the edges in loops that circled flowers of even more frosting. He’d never taken the time to look, and now couldn’t pull his eyes away.

  “What is cake?” she asked.

  “The best thing ever,” he said loftily.

  “And….”

  “You eat it,” Clod said, dragging his eyes away to glance at Ada. He suddenly realized that she’d never eaten anything. “You put it in your mouth, and it tastes wonderful. When you eat enough, you feel great. If you eat too much, you feel sick but still want more.”

  “That sounds amazing,” she said.

  “It really is.” He nodded vigorously.

  “I want some,” Ada said firmly.

  “Me too,” he said. “But they aren’t open, and I don’t have any money…”

  “I want some now,” she snapped, pushing at the door.

  “Yeah, so do I,” he said with a grin.

  Ada walked to the middle of the door, shoved roughly, and fell forward. The door had a smaller door that swung from a hinge on top. It was too small for a person, but just right for a pet, and perfect for Ada. She looked back, flashed him a mischievous grin, and then she was gone.

  “Ada?” he asked, dropping to his knees before the flap. Panic crawled up his spine and filled his mind with all the different ways they could get in trouble. He couldn’t yell louder; he might alert someone on the street. He was big enough to push through the door, but that might wake the owner.

  Clod stood and pressed his face against the shop window, trying to see what was going on. A shadowy little figure climbed up a chair and hopped over to the display. She leaned forward, breathing in the deliciousness, both increasing his worry and making him jealous. In all his life, he’d only had cake once, and it was like happiness you could eat.

  She lifted a hand over the frosting, ready to dig in. He shook his head, knowing that would be the worst thing she could do. This wasn’t just cake, it was perfection, and she would…then she did. The tiny hand dug deep into the wondrous morsel of frosting and produced a handful of bready goodness that she shoved into her mouth. Ada’s eyes went wide as she fell back behind the cake, out of sight.

  Clod tapped on the glass, and then again. The door creaked open, making him jump back and look up and down the street. The door opened more, and tiny Ada was beckoning him in. He shook his head even as she nodded with cheeks full of cake and her face smothered in red frosting. She was gone again, and he had no choice but to follow.

  He’d never made so much noise in his entire life. The hinges of the door needed oil, the wood floor needed nails, and he needed to be light as a feather. Wishing and worry didn’t help as every footstep into the bakery seemed louder than the last. When he was finally certain that nobody was rushing into the room, he found Ada sitting on the display, stuffing her face.

  “What are you doing?” he whispered loudly.

  “It’s soooo gooood,” she said, shoving handfuls of frosting into her mouth. “Hab sum.”

  “I can’t… We shouldn’t,” he said, his whispering filled with panic. “We could ruin it, and…”

  The cake already looked like it had been attacked by a small animal, and there was far too much damage to fix. Neither his magic, nor the best baker in the city could’ve repaired that piece of art. He took in a deep whiff of baked goods and was immediately overwhelmed with hunger. Reluctantly, against every ounce of better judgment, Clod reached out with a large finger and dipped it deep into the red pastry. Life had never tasted better, and he was dizzy with wonder. The cake was actually more delicious than it looked.

  Footsteps upstairs made time stop. The shop owners. He stood there, dumbfounded, with a tasty finger in his mouth, listening to worried voices.

  “What’s going on down there!” a woman shouted.

  “Gotta go,” Clod said.

  “Bring the cake,” Ada urged.

  “What?” he asked.

  “We already broke it,” she said. “They can’t use it anymore. It will go to waste.”

  That made so much sense that Clod grabbed the top two layers and shoved his way out the door. They ran across the street and down the path, leaving angry voices far behind. His eyes darted to Ada, who moved surprisingly fast for being so small.

  “This way,” he said, taking a deer trail away from the house.

  They rushed through the crunchy snow, giggling at the armful of red cake he held like a baby. After several panicked minutes, they stopped to listen. Nothing. Sweet nothing. Clod carefully pressed his back against a large tree and slowly sat down on a pile of dry leaves. He looked at Ada, who squinted as she listened.

  “I think we’re safe,” she whispered.

  “Let’s eat,” he said.

  He could only imagine that this is what a feast for kings and queens would taste like. The sliver of cake his mother had brought him from a party was no match for the red pile of deliciousness that the two delinquents demolished. Clod ate until the cake was gone and his belly distended. Ada’s small body lay across the girth of his stomach. She was covered in so much frosting it looked like she’d bathed in it.

  “So good,” she mumbled, lowering her head to his chest. “Best day ever.”

  “Yuh,” he said through a comforting burp.

  A beam of warming sunlight reached through the trees, baking Clod and Ada in sleepy content. Here he was, with a stomach full of cake a
fter spending the morning with his best friend. She was right; this had to be the best day ever. It wasn’t even cold out. It was actually…sort of…sleepy…

  “Get off,” Clod said to whoever was nudging his leg. “Leave me be.”

  The nudge became a kick, sharp enough to make him open his eyes. Sleep had made his vision foggy, and he couldn’t quite make out the tall figure hovering over him.

  “Get up,” Learned Yugen snapped, baring his teeth.

  “Wut?” Clod asked, blinking rapidly. He rubbed sleep from his eyes even as his teacher grasped his wrist with his talon-like fingers.

  Yugen pulled him to standing, and Clod panicked that Ada may fall from his chest, but she was gone. She was really gone. Ash from her remains powdered his tunic, making him sigh. He smiled, in spite of her departure. He’d never been on such a great adventure. Then Clod winced. No adventure had ever made his stomach hurt so much.

  “He’s here,” Yugen shouted. “I have found him!”

  “What’s going on?” Clod asked, turning away from his teacher.

  “Half the town has been looking for the thief who broke into Haim’s bakery,” Yugen said vehemently. He placed a hand on both Clod’s shoulders and jerked him about so they could see eye-to-eye. “Even if you have no magic, we are connected, boy, as I am with anyone who enters my classroom. That’s how I know what my students can do, and that’s how I sift through the useless and potentially evil children to find the good ones.”

  Clod covered his mouth with a hand, barely nodding in acknowledgment of Learned Yugen’s greatness.

  “It was simple to track you down,” he said with a sneer. “You think it would be that easy, breaking and entering like a half-wit? Everyone will finally see what you are.”

  Clod’s head reeled, his stomach churned painfully, and he turned away.

  Yugen grabbed his chin and drew it forward. “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he said sharply.

  “That’s him!” Clod recognized the woman’s voice from the bakery.

  “Oh, Clod,” his mother said from nearby.

  “What do you have to say for yourself?” Yugen asked.

  Clod opened his mouth and threw up all over his teacher. It spewed out in great clumps as mounds of partly-digested too-much-cake coated Yugen’s robes. He hurled again and again until it was finally done. The small crowd that gathered was silent, staring at Clod and Yugen in awe.

  “Sorry?” Clod asked. It wasn’t really an apology.

  Age 14

  “Thank you, Mister Haim,” Clod said as he stepped out of the warm bakery and into cold spring showers. “Thank you for everything.”

  After three years of not-so-hard labor, he was officially free from his sins. Breaking into the bakery with Ada had been a gloriously bad adventure, and not without cost. Stealing a cake meant for visiting royals was unforgivable. Clod was too big to spank, maybe even too large for a flogging. Learned Yugen had recommended that a public wailing with a reed would leave the right kind of scars Clod would never forget. But by law, it had been Haim’s decision, and the baker had decided to talk with him before deciding his fate.

  Haim was a maestro of confectionery, a baker well recognized throughout the kingdom of Pag. The man was also a malgam, which made it a miracle he’d become anything. Part human, and part something else, Haim would typically have been flagged as an unwanted, if not for his gifts.

  The old man was pale green, with wispy gray hair that reached his lower back in a long braid. He may have been larger than Clod, but it was hard to tell, as his great shoulders hunched over as if they were too heavy for him to carry. His keen yellow eyes were too small for his head, yet they never missed a stolen cookie or frosting spread too thin. Two thick tusks jutted out from his lower jaw, rising up to his bushy white eyebrows, often making his words hard to understand.

  If he’d been a fighter, everyone would’ve feared him. Fortunately, he was a baker who made delicious, beautiful cakes. People accepted him because of what he could do. Clod liked him because Haim seemed to care.

  Clod had never been so scared as the first time he stood alone in the room with Haim. The moment of frivolity with Ada had already left him drowning in guilt. This was a hard-working man taking care of his family, and he didn’t deserve the troubles Clod had brought him. He also looked like he could break Clod like a quill.

  Haim paced the small room, clenching and unclenching his thumbless hands with nails that could’ve gutted Clod in a breath. When he finally stopped pacing, Clod stopped breathing.

  “How was it?” he asked, his low, resonating voice slurring around the saliva that constantly gathered at his tusks.

  “How was wut?” Clod said, choking down his fear. “Uh, sir?”

  “The cake,” Haim said.

  “I…it was…” Clod gulped.

  “Say it, boy!” Haim spun around and faced him, growling like an animal.

  “That cake was the most delicious thing I ever tasted,” Clod said in clipped words.

  It was hard to tell, but it looked like the old malgam smiled. “What do you do?” he asked, wiping saliva from his chin.

  “Do?” Clod asked.

  “We’re all magic. You’re magic,” Haim said, waving a green hand. “Tell me.”

  Clod was still scared, but that growl made him more frightened of not speaking, so the entire story sort of tumbled out. He told Haim about how the other kids had bullied him, how alone he was until he made Ada. That eventually he learned not to care so much about the bullies since he had a friend, but many still hated him. He explained how Yugen seemed to hate him more than anyone. Finally, he got to the part about the cake, and eating it, and how good it was. Haim nodded for a long time, rubbing those stalagmite tusks growing from his mouth thoughtfully.

  “You sculpt,” he said.

  “Yessir,” Clod said.

  “If I teach you to sculpt cakes, will you eat them all?”

  “Wut?” Clod asked.

  “Will you steal my cakes?” Haim asked, articulating each word.

  “I promise never to steal again, sir,” Clod said. “Even if the cakes are really good.”

  That almost-smile crept up Haim’s cheek once more.

  “I want to meet your Ada,” he said. “I’ll feed you both cake. You learn to sculpt frosting. No more stealing. Three years.”

  “Yessir,” Clod said, staring at the floor.

  “Is there anything else, Clod?” the old man asked.

  “I…” Clod said.

  “Show me respect,” Haim said sharply. “Look me in the eye when you speak.”

  Clod looked the malgam in the eye and saw stern kindness, which filled him with confidence. This man wasn’t hateful for someone different. Just the opposite: Haim understood. Looking into his eyes, Clod didn’t see Yugen’s bitterness, he saw acceptance, and it gave him strength. “I’m sorry, sir. I mean it.”

  “I believe you,” Haim said, setting a heavy hand on Clod’s shoulder. “You have tough days ahead, but know that you are forgiven.”

  Haim hadn’t lied. While it wasn’t hard labor, like mining or castle-building, it certainly wasn’t easy. Hefting flour, stirring vats of batter, delivering enormous cakes without dropping them or eating them. Learning how to be delicate with frosting while forming it into shapes took years.

  Haim taught him how to create words, and then flowers, and then people, and then dragons—all with frosting. The baker was far more patient than Yugen, though less patient than his mum. Smacks to the back of his head were sharp without hurting, and pats to his shoulder were more rewarding than any hug. And now, three years later, he could walk away forever. But really, he didn’t want to.

  A large, familiar hand rested on his shoulder. Haim slurped loudly around his tusks before speaking. “You come back tomorrow, son, and get paid. You have gifts.”

  “Really?” he asked, looking back at the baker.

  The old man nodded, his eyes smiling where his face couldn’t. Haim s
hook his hand firmly, like a gentleman.

  “I’d like that,” Clod said. “I’ll be back after school, sir.”

  “For your mum and Ada,” Haim said, pressing a waxed bag into Clod’s hand. He laughed gruffly. “Don’t forget to share.”

  Rain dripped off the wax coating, leaving the delectable contents dry.

  “Thank you, sir,” Clod said, placing the bag into the pocket of his tunic.

  The old malgam nodded and returned to the bakery, closing the door behind him. Large globs of rain pattered the cobblestone road, immediately soaking through his thick rust-colored tunic. The dusky clouds overhead were menacing enough to scare away the sun, making it so dark he didn’t see her until she announced herself.

  “Tag,” Ada said, tapping his leg and scurrying off.

  “Now?” he asked in disbelief.

  She didn’t stop to answer, so he followed as best he could. Despite the storm, the main road was still busy with gruff-looking wagon drivers and horsemen. Any patience they may have had for a playful teenager was washed away by the poor weather. This was a bad idea, and worry made him clumsy. Clod’s shouts for Ada to slow were drowned out by the wet clopping of horse hooves and poorly timed claps of thunder.

  It was hard to believe that a sixteen-inch-tall girl of clay could be so nimble. She moved like a fox, dodging between wagon wheels and around ignorant riders who didn’t take notice. Clod worried that she would be squished by, well, everything, or even worse, washed away into the gutters.

  Despite his concerns, he couldn’t hold back the smile. She scurried out of town, scrambling around trees near the path toward their house. Somehow, her tiny legs were faster than his lumbering ones. His heart raced, and he gasped for breath. Running was something other people did, and something he avoided like vegetables.

  Clod finally gave into his lost breath, leaning against a tree to catch it. More than anything, he wanted to collapse underneath the canopy of leaves, and hide from the rain. A panic rose in him. Ada would only be here for part of the night, and he would be distraught if she were lost to the woods. He could barely make out a rustle of leaves amidst the pattering of rain. A tiny giggle made his head jerk about. He could just make out her little body peeking from behind nearby brush.