by Mark Tufo
I held longingly on to that knob, not quite ready to give up what I had fought so valiantly to reach.
“So close...I’ll be back,” I promised before I let go. I could nearly glide upon the layer of slime I’d laid down previously.
“How are you?” she asked tenderly, as she helped me back into bed.
“Bailey’s dead,” I sobbed. I had tried to hold it in, but here was the most comforting presence in my life, and everything was released. It was one thing to cry in front of Azile, quite another in front of Mathieu. I was of the old guard–one never showed weakness to a friend. But here was my heart; I had long moved past the point of caring who saw, and I could not stop the flood of emotions that poured forth. Bailey represented one more unfathomable loss in a deluge of them. One would think it would get easier to accept them as they began to pile up. If anything, it somehow got worse. To acknowledge the accumulation was oftentimes too difficult to bear.
“She is.” Azile had wrapped her arms around my head as I sobbed into her chest. “These are merely words, my love, and will not ease your heart right now, but at some point, you will be able to take some small measure of comfort from them. She died to save you. She is a heroine to her people. She knew she could not die a more meaningful death.”
She was right, but the only word I really heard was “death”. It all boiled down to the fact that she was no longer here. Dying well, dying bad, dying with dignity, dying with disgrace...none of it fucking mattered. That person was gone.
“The Tynes’ line has stopped with her.” I could not fathom that I was somehow responsible for the end of my best friend’s legacy.
Azile gently pushed my head away and laughed. “Is that your concern? You do realize that nearly half of Talboton is in one way or another directly related to Lawrence, do you not?”
I sniffed. “I do now.”
“All will be well again, Michael.” She rocked me gently until I fell back asleep.
When I awoke a few hours later, it was dark; a small lantern was burning in the far corner of the room. I shifted on my bed and once again placed my feet on the floor. I noticed the pain had eased significantly.
“They moved them.”
“What?” I asked.
“The drugs. Azile had them moved after your last attempt.”
“Dammit man! And you did nothing?” I asked of Mathieu.
“Sorry, I was a little laid up. It was a joke! Are you going to look like a whipped cur every time you look at me? I do not believe I will be able to take it.”
“I am sorry my friend, it just pains me to see you so injured.”
“I can now fulfill my lifelong dream of being a pirate.”
I was just about to question him his choice of words when Lana came in.
“It is good to see you up and about.” She came over and gave me a rib crushing hug. She still wore her signature affable smile, but there was also a weight of concern and responsibility around her eyes. Oh yes, she’d suffered loss as well. It would be a good long while before Denarth recovered from this war; at least a generation. It would take everything she had to help them through the dark times ahead.
We made small talk for a few minutes before she let me know that they would be having a service for Bailey when I was well enough. Her body had already been brought back to Talboton and most likely interred by now.
“Thank you, Michael Talbot.” She had been holding my hands.
“For what?”
“For everything. You gave us purpose, Michael, a reason to keep fighting on when we had nothing left to give. Your suffering, Bailey’s death, the death of all those people...it was for a significant purpose. We are alive, in part, because of the role you played. Denarth is very much indebted to you and moving forward, all of her inhabitants will know that history. Mathieu is making sure of it.” I could see she was anxious to get over to him.
“You are a good person, Lana Saltinda, verging on the edge of greatness; your leadership will heal your people. Thank you.”
She hugged me again before moving to Mathieu, where she reverted back to the lively young girl she still was. It was good to see them so in love. My friends looked happy, and in the end, wasn’t that what we were all fighting for?
I ENDED UP falling asleep. Apparently, listening to others coo and giggle while making kissy faces is exhausting. This was just another form of torture; at least I was confined to a more comfortable, spectator position. I was awoken later, obviously...how could it have been sooner? Mathieu and Lana were gone, possibly to find a more private room. It was the absolute quiet that caught me off guard and alerted me something wasn’t quite right. I should have known the danger I was in when I heard the first cry-out.
“The babies are here?” I sat up. Azile was walking down the aisle with them.
“They missed their papa,” she said, beaming.
I was all too willing to have them in the bed with me. “I thought I’d never see you two again,” I told them. They didn’t respond, they were practicing for their upcoming teenage years. I was all smiles for a few seconds and then I looked up to Azile. “Have they been here the entire time?”
“No, I left them with Sebastian and Oggie. Of course they came with me.”
“You brought our kids into an active war zone?”
“What exactly should I have done, Michael? I got a message you were captured and were being tortured to the point of death. It’s tough to find a reliable babysitter on such short notice.”
“Don’t be a smart-ass.”
“Yeah...wouldn’t want to hone in on your niche,” she responded without missing a beat.
“You shouldn’t have come at all.”
“You’d be dead if I hadn’t.”
“But at least our kids wouldn’t have been in danger.” I could tell she wanted to say something like They were never in danger or maybe I had it under control. She couldn’t though, she could not have been completely sure they were going to win the day. Then again, we both knew deep inside that nowhere would have been completely safe for these children.
“For some insane, unknowable reason, Michael Talbot, I love you beyond compare. Come hell or high water, I was not going to let you die out there. Yes, I took a risk, but one I felt justified.”
How the fuck could I argue with that? It would be a lie for me to say I wouldn’t have done the same. I dropped the need to pursue a pointless argument. First off, because it was against a woman and the odds I would win were actually less than nil, in fact, probably the entire thing would most likely be turned back around and somehow I would be the one in trouble, and secondly, she’d already won. After all, she was safe, the babies were safe, and I was alive and with them. What better outcome could there have been? I squished some baby faces, I held them over my head for a bit, and I was about to start teaching them swear words, but their mother decided it was time for their nap.
“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Don’t go anywhere.” She leaned over and gave me a kiss.
The only place I was thinking about going was dream-town. Just the half hour playing with the munchkins had worn me out. I was nowhere near back to normal. I still had a layer of crust over me from the bug bites; the only noticeable difference was that it was getting thinner. My ribs had more or less slid back into place. The multitude of physical injuries were on the mend. It was going to be the head-fuck that took a good long while to fade; it would never fully heal. My thoughts, whether I was sleeping or awake, never strayed far from that pole. I was thankful that Azile was back before I could fall too deeply down my well of despair.
“That Ganlin necktie thing,” I said as I involuntarily touched my own. “Have you always been able to do that? I mean, I’m just thinking ahead to when I inevitably piss you off and maybe you’re having a bad day. Like the kids are screaming, Oggie just puked on your good rug, and the damn cat just happens to show up, because you know how they can bring a room down. I’d ummm....just hate to have my head pop off, if you know wha
t I mean.”
“Do you know magic?”
“I knew a couple of card tricks back when I was like, eleven.”
She laughed. “No. Can you perform magic?”
“Like hide the salami?” She looked at me with a questioning stare, I don’t think she got it and I wisely decided not to explain it. “Yeah, no. I don’t know any magic.”
“There are checks and balances in place for channeling the forces of nature...what you call magic, the strongest of which can only be used on those that can also wield it.”
“Remind me to never get a wand. You should have maybe done that when we encountered them in the woods before they got to Denarth.”
“Oh. How silly of me! If only I hadn’t been a little busy having your babies.”
“A real woman knows how to multi-task.”
“You certainly know how to be a charmer. Now move over.”
She actually had to help, but there was enough room for her to finally fit next to me. “Well, it worked, didn’t it? I got you into bed with me.”
“I know joking is your coping mechanism, Michael, but I’ve never been more frightened in my life than when I saw you out there. The lifeline that tethered you to this earth was frayed and rapidly pulling apart from the stress. I had to do what I did.”
“And I thank you for that.”
She turned on her side and propped her head up with her hand. “Those checks and balances, Michael...I’ve used more than I should have, between this damned war and saving you.”
Now it was my turn to be concerned. “What exactly does that mean?”
“I’m not entirely sure; not many survive the Reckoning to tell their tale.”
“The Reckoning? What the hell, Azile! Can’t we just go home and you can use the white magic to plant tulips or something? Won’t that balance the ledger?”
“Doesn’t quite work like that.”
“Sure, sure it does.” I was talking out my ass at the moment. “You’ll have to save puppies and help old women cross the street for a few years, maybe even get a cat or two out of a tree, but then...”
“It’s more like this. Let’s say you robbed a bank.”
“It wasn’t a bank.”
“This is hypothetical.”
“Oh. Okay, keep going.”
“Let’s say someone robbed a bank. Just because they became a minister after the fact doesn’t let them expunge their first transgression.”
“But Azile, you weren’t doing what you did for personal gain. You were doing it to help others.”
“That’s a fine line, and it’s a matter of perspective. There will be some that say that all that I have done was for personal gain. That I’ve helped in this war so that my life will be better.”
“Who the hell are they? And who gives a shit what they say?”
“There will be a tribunal.”
“Like, of witches? There are more of you?”
“‘Sort of,’ to answer both of those questions.”
“So, where the hell were they when all this shit was going down? They could have helped.”
“Not really.”
“Are they French? Is that why?”
“You have got to let go of your old prejudices. They are not of this earth; at least not anymore.”
“So spirits, ghosts...whatever, are going to judge your actions on this plane? What do they give a fuck? They’re dead. Not like they had any irons in the fire.”
She spent the next ten minutes calming me down. I was ready to head to the underworld and go exact a little vigilante justice.
“I’m sorry I ever brought it up.” She was exasperated.
“I’ll let it go for now. I’m sorry.” I fell asleep with her looking at me. Normally that would be a pretty difficult thing; not this time.
The next morning came. When I awoke I was once again alone. For the first time in a great many days, I felt somewhat human. I could even get up and not feel like I needed assistance. Taking a leak by yourself is very satisfying. Cannot tell you how nice it was to not have to use an urn; that kind of thing signifies the last human indignity—when someone else has to clean up after you. By the next day, I only needed someone nearby in case I teetered, soon I would be shuffling around all on my own. Azile and I found some quality alone time, I don’t think that needs any further explaining. There had yet to be a night where I had not woken in terror, bathed in a thick sheen of sweat. So far, I had not screamed externally, though there was plenty of it going on in my head. When Azile questioned me on it, I told her the truth. How hard would it be to figure out anyway? Torture has a fundamental way of changing a person. There was no reason that I would be exempt.
By the end of the week I was nearly self-sufficient. I could walk like I was in my eighties, which I’ll tell you right now is worlds better than those in their nineties. I had a smile on my face as I exited the washroom.
“You see something you like?” It was Azile.
“You want to see?” I put my hands by my waistband. I halted all thoughts and actions with her next words.
“You need to get dressed.”
I knew immediately why, though I had been repressing the thought of it as much as possible. It was the memorial for Bailey. I cannot tell you how much I wanted to be selfish and say I was not feeling well enough to do it; most likely I would have been granted a pass. But just because I did not want to do something didn’t mean I could not. Azile did her best to help me into some decent clothes. It was nice to wear things that were not covered in mine or someone else’s blood. Looked like the whole damn city was seated in the pavilion in the center of town. Lana had set up a dais on the top of the steps that led into the city building. Long wooden benches, which looked like they had been built for just this occasion, were completely filled and more people were standing in the back where I hoped we could be. Azile gripped my hand hard as I faltered and led me up to the front where there were two seats available next to Mathieu.
Mathieu’s eyes were already red-rimmed. I wish I could have said it was because he had been imbibing on his newest cask, but I knew better. There was quiet murmuring throughout the crowd that ceased the moment Lana climbed the steps. I let my mind wander to take in the day. I had not been outside since my rescue. The sky was a brilliant blue, of a color that not even the clouds had the desire to disturb. I could hear birds singing outside the walls; on occasion, a few would take wing over our heads. I could not help get the impression that they were sort of an honorary Air Force fly by. This was the type of day young couples hike to secluded spots with their basket of wine and cheese and then enjoy nature in all its splendor; certainly not the kind where a trusted ally and friend is honored for her sacrifice. I was acutely aware that I was the entire cause for this gathering. I could feel countless eyes upon me and did my best to shrink within the confines of my clothes; I was alive. The beautiful, noble leader of Talboton was not. It was a gentle nudging from Azile that let me know Lana was speaking about me and that perhaps I should listen.
“...Michael, would you like to say a few words?” Lana had her hand out to me.
“Fuck no,” was on the edge of my tongue—thankfully it stayed there. I had a difficult time standing; Azile stood and helped me up. Not sure if my legs betraying me was deliberate or psychological. She helped me up the stairs where she handed me off to Lana who stepped aside so I could use the dais to support myself. I cleared my throat.
“Bailey was my friend.” I had to pause, I looked off into the distance, past the throng of people sitting there. I swore I almost caught a glimmer of Bailey way back there urging me on. “Like most friends, we didn’t agree on everything, even had a few hard times, you might say. Through it all, I found her to be the most caring, loving person I’ve ever met in my entire life. She was the great granddaughter of the truest friend I have ever had the honor to know. The Tynes bloodline ran strong through her, and that she sacrificed all for me only strengthens the ties that bind us. I don’t know if any among
you loved her more than I, but if so, my heart goes out to you. I do not feel worthy to stand here while she has traveled on. I will make it my goal in life to honor her memory. Rest in peace, Bailey Tynes. You will be sorely missed.”
Lana helped me down the stairs but instead of sitting, I continued on and out of the square to where I thought I had caught a glimpse of Bailey.
“As far as eulogies go, I know it was fairly weak,” I spoke softly aloud, hoping she would hear me. “I was never good at putting words to my feelings. I loved, no—I love you, Bailey. I know it is peaceful where you are; it must be. Please tell BT I’ll see him soon and that he doesn’t get to count this one on his ledger.” Now I was openly weeping. I let my back scrape against the building as I slowly sank to the ground. I was on my butt with my head hanging low, tears falling into my lap.
A shadow came over me. “I’d like to go home,” I said to Azile without looking up.
“As would I.” Her slender hand reached down to help me up.
That night we ate dinner with Lana and Mathieu, who were gracious enough to not constantly be fondling each other. Mathieu was especially happy with his new leg which he showed off on as many occasions as he could. It was a good night and it went a long way to pushing the demons away into the far corners. Yeah, they still lurked, but I couldn’t see them for the moment so I could live, for now, in ignorance of their existence. Mathieu had indeed been working on a fine brew, and we worked our asses off to put a dent in the small keg. By the time Azile and I headed back to our room she had to once again assist me, but this time, it wasn’t because of my injuries.
The next morning came too soon and not soon enough. I felt like crap, but I was ready to go. I quickly packed my few possessions: my hand axe, rifle, and some ammo, then I remembered Azile had brought the twins and everything that entails.
“How the fuck did you get here woman? Pack mule caravan?” I asked as I packed up enough stuff to supply a small continent.
“If you quit complaining and hurry up, we could possibly make it home by tonight.”