So there it was, laid down for the whole empty kitchen to see. Asa clutched at the loose material around his chest, breathing harsh and rapid. Thoughts raced through his brain so quickly that he could hardly catch a glimpse of them. He bit down any noise that he might have made, irrationally terrified of Avery hearing him. The sofa creaked in the sitting room, and Asa allowed himself to release a small sob.
“Asa?” Avery called across the apartment. “Was that you?”
Asa sprang to his feet and began to rummage frantically in the cupboards, slamming various jars onto the table as loudly as possible. “Was what me?”
“Never mind.” Avery’s voice quieted, and Asa froze back into an unnatural stillness.
“Food,” he mumbled. “Supper. Right, okay. Uh, toast. That’ll do. I’ll make toast.”
He fumbled some bread out of the bread bin and spiked it with two toasting forks, shoving them into the stove. The flames almost reached the crust of the slices, but merely turned them a golden brown. Asa flipped them, numb to the slight burning of his skin on the warmed metal. Soon, the smell of cooking bread filled the cramped kitchen. With an expert hand, he flipped the toast slices from the forks onto a plate and placed it on the table.
“Avery!” he called. “Food.”
There was little butter left in the pot, so he spread it onto his friend’s toast and split the last of the jam between them. He had meant to go to the market this week, but one thing had led to another and he had forgotten. The floorboards creaked beneath his friend’s heavy boots as he entered the room.
“Thanks.” Avery grabbed a slice of toast and crunched into it with relish. “You alright?”
“What?” Asa twitched. “Oh, yes. Great.”
He watched his friend chew for a moment, biting his lip. All of a sudden, the apartment felt too bright, too enclosed, too loud. The beige walls made him wince as he sank onto a stool next to Avery, cradling his aching head in his hands.
“Sure about that?”
“I’m fine,” he insisted.
There was a knock on the door.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Asa cursed, all too happy to have a distraction. “It’s like a sales day market place around here! First, no one ever comes to visit, then I get two in one day. Am I spoiled or just dismally unlucky?”
He strode to the door and slapped the chain across it, opening it with such rigor that the paint cracked where the chain hit. He looked out into the hallway.
“Letter for Mr. Asa Hounslow,” a stiff voice said.
“What is it this time?” Asa sighed, glancing back at his friend, who had eaten his toast. “I’m not going to buy anything from you, you know. Just go away.”
“That is hardly necessary.” Asa could see the person’s outline. He was long and thin and wearing a strange sort of red tailcoat uniform. “Don’t shoot the courier. You just need to sign for the letter. It’s urgent business.”
Asa ripped the letter from the spidery hand and scrawled his name on the scrap of paper with the pencil provided.
“Well, it better be urgent if you’re here at this hour,” he tutted, shoving it back through the crack in the door. “Are you happy now?”
“Oh, I’m effervescent.” The man sniffed, filing the paper in the briefcase he carried. “See you tomorrow, sir.”
“I’m sure I—wait, what does that even—?” but the man had gone, taking his signature and leaving nothing but the curiously rolled letter and a faint smell of violets. “What a strange person.”
Asa returned to the table, looking curiously at the letter.
“Who was that?” Avery asked, eyeing the paper in Asa’s hands. “And why did they give you an invitation?”
“No, it’s not an invitation, it’s a letter,” Asa murmured, feeling the seal with his fingers. “Don’t know who sent it to me. The seal’s all official and everything.”
“Interesting,” Avery replied levelly, having found something to occupy his wandering attention.
Asa flipped the letter over and grabbed his paper knife, excitement running like electricity through his trembling fingers.
“The paper’s so smooth,” he said, feeling the texture. “So creamy. It’s like silk.”
“Great,” his friend sounded distant, distracted. Asa looked at him, frowning.
“What’s bitten you?”
“Just thinking.” Avery stuffed something beneath the table, hiding it from view.
“About what?” Asa raised an eyebrow.
“Life, I guess.” Avery smiled tersely. “Go on, on with the mysterious scroll.”
“It’s just a letter.” Asa rolled his eyes but continued all the same.
The seal was easy to break; it was made of sealing wax rather than plain candle drips. Asa shivered as he remembered the thin man’s words, ‘I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.’ That was either quite ominous or exciting or both. Maybe this was his quest. Maybe it was time for him to be immortalised in literature. Maybe, his excited mind ran on, he was to be appointed as a member of the queen’s court. Had someone powerful become interested in his maps? What was in the letter? Somehow, he managed to pull the leaves of paper apart and unfurl the beautiful, crested paper. Before he even read the words, he was stunned by the decadence of the pages. Gilded edges, illuminated headers—they were expensive.
“What does it say?” Avery asked, exasperated. “Go on, read it.”
Asa nodded mutely, eyes flickering down to the elegant copperplate script under the letterhead. He cleared his throat, feeling his mouth go dry.
“To Mr. Asa Hounslow, re: the State of a Nation,” he read, feeling prickles of excitement run up his spine. “You have been chosen out of thousands of others to lead the way to a time of peace. Your quest shall be explained in full at the Palace Royale at Jundres in three days’ time. A carriage will be arriving tomorrow at first light to take you on the first part of the journey. Do not be late.”
He reread it, and then scanned it again, eyes not processing what he was seeing. He laughed as the message sunk in. It has happened, he thought. He had found his quest, or it had found him. He could not believe it, and at the perfect time. Something to give his life meaning, a purpose. Asa turned to Avery, a smile stretching over his face. He waited for the blond to say something, say anything, so that Asa could re-emphasise the news.
“Well, you’re not going to go, are you?” Avery asked simply, not looking at Asa.
“What?” Asa spluttered, a frown dampening his features. “No, of course I will go. Why wouldn’t I?”
The blond blinked, “I just assumed that—”
“What?” Asa asked incredulously.
“That you would share my stance on this whole adventuring business. It’s not right, able-bodied folks sacrificing their services to the community for the chance of some pitiful self-glory.” Avery shrugged, tossing his fringe out of his eyes. “You shouldn’t go, anyhow.”
“But an adventure!” Asa exclaimed. “A chance to prove myself, to be courageous! Isn’t that worth going for?”
“No.” Avery shook his head. “No, it isn’t. Call me old fashioned, but I like my friends un-decapitated.”
“You’re old fashioned,” groaned Asa. “Come on, Avery. You know that this is the chance of a lifetime. You know that this is what I’ve always wanted. Who knows, I may decapitate myself with a pen tomorrow; cartography is just as dangerous. Why don’t you come with me?”
“I’m fine, thanks.” Avery raised an eyebrow. “I, personally, am aware of my physical limitations.”
Asa turned his head so that he could examine his friend’s face. The statement was rather foreboding—it was as if he knew. But he can’t, Asa reminded himself. Asa had only found out recently. Avery was merely being his usual superior self, not that Asa minded about that.
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, trying to keep his face as open and unreadable as possible. “I am well aware of my physical limitations. I hope that I’m more aware of them than y
ou are.”
There was a pause as Avery looked to be considering his answer, and then a short bark of laughter.
“It means that you don’t have the tough and well-sculpted body of a miner.” He smirked, ruffling Asa’s longish hair. “You’re so small, Asa.”
Asa laughed too, out of relief more than anything.
“I am plenty tall for my career, thank you,” he mused. “You’re just a giant. You must be as tall as your father by now? You’re seventeen years old! Same as me. Slow down before you hit the sun, Avery.”
“I’ll consider that.” Avery smiled. “If you consider not going on that foolhardy quest.”
Asa was quiet for a moment. “I’ve got to go, Avery.”
“You’re too young to go killing yourself on some stupid mission,” the blond protested.
“I’m not a child,” Asa muttered sulkily, kicking the table. “And I’m as old as you, Avery, so don’t go telling me what to do. Look at me! When do you think I’ll get an opportunity like this again?”
“Asa—”
“No.” He held up a hand. “I just want to do this. Can’t you let me do what I think is right? I know how to take care of myself. I’ve done it for five years now.”
“Well, you obviously don’t,” Avery snapped, before slapping a hand over his mouth. “No, I’m sorry, that was harsh.”
“Do you think?” Asa said, a twinge of something moving in his chest.
“I’m sorry,” Avery repeated.
“Yeah.”
They did not speak for a few moments, the silence tense and awkward. Asa could feel his stomach churning nastily in his unease. He looked down at his long, sallow fingers as they clutched the scroll, shifting microscopically in his seat. His companion noticed the movement and decided to break the silence.
“Well, it’s not like you could go, even if you wanted to.”
Asa refused to look at Avery. He did not know how he should feel. On one hand, he was legally an adult and he didn’t have to take this from a gangly teen who still lived with his parents. On the other, Avery was his only friend. He was the only person with whom Asa had bothered to keep up correspondence. If he didn’t think that Asa could do it, then maybe Asa himself should doubt it.
“I could, too.” It sounded childish, even as he said it.
“No, mate, you couldn’t.” Avery’s eyes bored into Asa’s with that unfamiliar intensity. “I don’t know what strange ideas you’ve developed since you moved in here, but they’ve got to stop. Face it. You aren’t physically able to go on a two-day horse ride, let alone a quest of whatever extremes Queen Ria will send you on. Give up on these foolish notions and stay home. Didn’t you say that you had a map-making business or something?”
“I did,” Asa replied cagily. “But working is a different business. Can’t you understand that I don’t want to be here, to be this, for the rest of my life?”
Avery made a choked noise, like a cross between a cough and a sneeze. The muscles in his back rippled with the movement, a flicker of energy twitching across his shoulder blades. A slight look of hurt crossed his features before being reined in, and he gave a tight smile.
“Were you going to lie to me?” His voice was low and rough.
“About what? I have nothing to hide,” Asa said, feeling nervous.
“How about your little . . . surprise?” Avery replied, slamming his large fist down on the table, something small clutched in it. Asa managed to tease the paper out of the strong grip, and uncrumpled it, confused. Heat began to surge through him as he scanned the familiar page for what must have been a dozen times that night.
“You’ve been reading my letter?” he exclaimed, pushing his chair backwards across the tiles as he stood up, shaking. The resultant screech of wood on stone made Avery flinch. “How dare you?”
“How dare you not tell me?” Avery, still sitting at the table, albeit looking stormily up at Asa, was calmer than he. “I’m your best friend.”
“Wrong tense there, Avery,” Asa pronounced every syllable of the other’s full name, relishing the aggressiveness he could convey through doing so. “Wrong tense. You were my friend. However, friends don’t poke into their friends’ private business and they certainly don’t tell them about it afterwards. For goodness’ sake, you’re such a complete and utter idiot. You’ve ruined everything.”
“Watch it, there.” Avery hardly seemed bothered by Asa’s denouncement of their friendship. “It said not to exert yourself.”
Asa grit his teeth. “That is none of your business. You wouldn’t understand, anyway.”
“I may not have gone to some fancy school in the town, but I still want to know,” Avery asserted, raising his eyebrows. “Simplify it.”
Asa glowered at him, brown eyes darkening with ire. He clenched his fists, wanting nothing more than to slam them right into Avery’s mild face. His body shook, without him even intending to do so. He opened a cupboard at random, feigned interest in the contents, and then turned away for the sheer pleasure of slamming the door as hard as he physically could.
“They told me that it was the worst possible scenario,” he grunted, slumping onto the table. “I was born with a dodgy heart. That’s why I never did rough games when you met me. But it’s been getting worse. It soon may be too weak to keep me alive.”
Avery gaped before clearing his throat, his eyes wandering over the room. He seemed to be trying to look for a new topic of conversation, biting his lip.
“We’re all going to die someday,” he mumbled, not looking at Asa.
“Wow, thanks.” Asa rolled his eyes. “This is why I didn’t tell you, you know. I don’t want you to coddle me. I want you to treat me the same, and in your case that means being an insufferable git.”
Avery offered a weak smile. “I can work with that.”
“You’d better,” Asa warned, tugging his hair in anxiety.
“Don’t do that,” his friend protested. “You’ll get hair everywhere.”
“Hey!” Asa brought his hands down from his head. “One, I still haven’t forgiven you for invading my privacy—”
“It was right there on the table.”
“Two,” he continued fluidly, ignoring the interruption, “my house, my rules. And three, who even cares if there are a few tufts of hair around my house? Gives the place character.”
“Gross.” Avery shuddered.
“You can have it when I’m gone,” Asa said, stroking the table with a kind eye. “The house, I mean, not the hair. Of course, you’ll get lots of that too. Just the few things I’ve owned.”
“Me?” the blond asked.
“Well, I’ve got no one else to give it to,” Asa stated. “I’m sorry if you don’t want it or anything. You can sell it, if you wish. You can even have it right now. I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“You’re still going on that ridiculous quest?” Avery asked. “Are you mad?”
“No, I just have less time to achieve my life goals, so I figured that I should take what I can get.”
“You’re nuts,” Avery said, shaking his head. “Barmy. You’ll die before you’ve got halfway there.”
“What a way to go.” Asa shrugged, dismissing the negativity. “I’ll be alone, free.”
“You’re actually choosing to shorten your life?” Avery sighed. “Whatever next? You’re different, I grant you that, but not in a way that merits praise.”
“Stars, Avery, I’ll see stars. It’s too bright to see them here. All we can get glimpses of are the moon, on occasion. I can hardly remember what the little things look like now. I remember that they lit up the sky, like light shining through a curtain. I want to see them again before I die.”
“It won’t be like the stories,” his friend warned him, breaking through his reverie. “You know that it’s going to be tough. Won’t have a roof over your head, for a start. No warm food. No warmth. It’s winter. Being out there at night when you’re sick is not a good idea.”
“There are villag
es inside the walls, Grandpa Hounslow told me so,” Asa insisted.
“The walls are set up for a reason,” Avery groaned. “They are put there so that we don’t run the risk of running into evil things. Those villages are as crumpled as Salatesh was, all those years ago. Erebus wouldn’t let intruders into his territory. You won’t go through the walls anyway. Only the One Hero is able to get through, and they go through extensive training first. No, you’ll be going over the Moving Mountains, freeze to death, and die.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Asa concluded, rubbing his hands together. “I guess I’ll need a cloak though. Maybe some food?”
“You can’t be thinking of doing this alone!” Avery’s voice cracked. “Believe me, you can’t. I don’t want you to die alone and scared in some foreign place. You’re too important to me. Don’t go, please. Don’t go.”
“I’m going, Avery,” Asa said finally. “I can’t let this slip away from me.”
“Then I’m coming with you,” Avery stated.
“What?”
“You heard me,” he said, hazel eyes softening. “If you won’t stay safe at home, then I’ll ensure that you stay safe in some other place. I’m giving you my dagger, is that what they say?”
“I have your sword,” Asa said, a slow grin spreading across his face. “And believe me, Avery, there is nothing I trust more to keep me safe.”
TWO
ASA WOKE EARLY THE next morning. He lay still in bed for a while, listening to the quiet sounds of a house in rest, too comfortable to move. It was still dark out; the room was shadowy and dim to his blurry vision. Asa could only just see to the end of the bed where his bare feet peeked out from under the duvet. He stretched, only letting loose a startled squeak when his flexing fingers caught on some warm figure in the dark.
“Who’s there?” He pulled his arm back and crawled to the edge of the mattress, gasping for breath. It was too dark for him to discern who was in his bed. Mind racing, he ran through all of the possibilities. There was only one. “Avery?”
“Mmph,” the muffled reply came. “What, Asa?”
His Frozen Fingertips Page 2