by Linda Welch
“Just as well.” He frowned. “This is not a happy place and as far as I can discover, the accommodation is primitive.”
“Damn right it’s not a happy place,” I all but spat.
“The merchant was surly and remained so when I exerted my considerable charm.” Chris’ mouth pulled into a taut grimace. “I have never worked so hard for a smile.”
You won’t get one here. I could not wait to get away.
We stopped a few miles on and sat on the grass next the road beneath a tree’s spreading branches. I removed my helmet with relief, enjoying the air. Warm, humid, it was air and I had not felt it on my face for hours.
“What was that place?”
Chris shrugged.
“Dun Falmor,” Gia replied.
Goggles around his neck, Chris sat with me and Gia. He took five small, white paper packages tied with brown twine from a sack. Tutting to himself, he picked at the twine until he had it untied, unwrapped the parcels and flattened the paper away from what they contained. I waited for my portion with interest. Although no longer hungry after what I saw in the village, I’d not tasted Gelpha food before.
“This,” he said, pointing a long, strong forefinger with manicured nails, “is the local specialty.”
I squinted. Round pastries? He also bought tiny pink-frosted cakes and the other sack held three black glass bottles.
I took two bites of a warm, flakey pastry filled with a spicy mixture of dark, shredded meat and vegetables in a red sauce. It was good, and so were the cakes which tasted similar to Red Velvet cakes. The drink… .
I hacked, coughed, spluttered. “What the Sam Hill?”
“Sip it,” Chris instructed.
“Not on your life!” I corked the bottle and dropped it on the grass. The lukewarm amber contents looked inviting, but tasted like something I keep under my kitchen sink with the other cleaning supplies.
Gia rose up, went to her bike and came back with a flask, which she presented to me. “Here.”
I gratefully slugged back a few gulps of water, tepid, but at least it didn’t take a layer off the inside of my mouth. “Thanks. What is that stuff?”
Chris lounged back on one elbow. “Griffin’s Ale, a fine vintage.”
“Huh!” I scoffed. “If griffins piss, I bet one shot it in that bottle.”
“You are so refreshing, my dear.”
“Which can’t be said about that garbage.”
He smiled as he let his head hang back, hair a wide, glistening ribbon down his back, and looked up at the tree branches. “G, R, Y, P, H, O, N,” he spelled out. “Gryphon, not griffin. The High Lord’s father. I believe it was first brewed to celebrate his birth.”
The High Lord’s father? Lawrence’s dad, the missing heir. One of the missing heirs, because both Lawrence’s father and grandfather disappeared. From what Royal told me, Gryphon was a child when his parents took him into hiding in my world. Why they never reemerged to claim the High House, and why Gryphon fathered Lawrence and vanished again was a mystery the Gelpha would dearly love to solve.
I lay back, hands beneath my head and watched leaves spiral down from the tree, drifting back and forth before settling. One landed on my waist. I pulled one hand from under my neck to pick up the leaf and gently rubbed my fingers over it, then saw Chris watched the motion of my fingers with the tip of his tongue protruding from his lips. I dropped the leaf.
He stared intently from eyes gone smoke-gray.
Cut it out! I told my disloyal libido. I rolled on my stomach, angry with myself. I should be thinking of Royal, not going all gooey at a look from another demon’s eyes.
I rolled to my knees and up on my feet, went to the tree and spread my hand on the corrugated bark. It felt no different from bark back home. Apart from the manmade features and inhabitants, and the damn elusive sun, this world was little different from mine. How could that be?
Speaking to Gia in a low voice, Chris indolently lounged on the grass. Their voices murmured. He laughed lightly. He seemed relaxed around Gia, but that was his persona; the charming gentleman, always at ease.
When Royal and I, Gia and Daven went to the High House, the Gelpha bristled with indignation and what I perceived as hatred. I thought we had a fight on our hands. But Gia’s black gaze settled on them and they backed down, intimidated. Now I knew why.
Mothers.
Gia jerked me from my reverie. “Come, we should find lodging before night falls.”
Lights already twinkled from Dun Falmor behind us. Gia and I donned our helmets, Chris his goggles, we mounted the bikes and rode on. I twisted my head to watch the town disappear, wishing I had been able to speak to one of the townspeople and ask why Orcus killed them.
The air became chill. I leaned on Chris’ back, my arms beneath his armpits, hands on his chest. The cold didn’t bother him.
One of his hands folded over mine and patted. “It won’t be long,” he said as velocity carried his voice past me.
A second later, his hand no longer patted; it stroked, his long, smooth fingers running back and forth over mine. I should pull my hand away. I should sit up straight. But I huddled against his back, holding on tight. I knew it wasn’t Chris; it was his delicious demon heat. It reminded me of Royal and I missed it, I missed him. But for now, a familiar, encompassing warmth soothed and warmed me and I didn’t want to let go.
Our headlamps pierced the night. Shapes reared around us; I couldn’t tell if they were ruins or natural monoliths. Windows in solitary houses far on our right shone yellow. We passed a farm, the outbuildings and house illuminated by strategically placed lamps atop tall posts. Ahead, in the middle of nowhere, light from a good-sized town made the sky above orange.
Gia pulled up and Chris braked to ease in beside her. The Harley idled, sputtering. What was clearly a large community sat on the flat plain. Red, yellow, white and orange lights twinkled in dark shapes which looked black in the twilight.
Gia and Chris cut their engines at the same time. The dead air settled over us, silent but for a low, distant burr. Traffic, if I were not mistaken.
“What do you think?” Chris asked Gia.
“It will have to do. We can circle and come in on the other side. I remember a few hostels in a less than desirable sector; basic, but we can slip in unnoticed.”
Chris would have sounded offended but for the lilt to his voice. “Surely you jest, dear Lady. I, go unnoticed? Why, the locals will - ”
Gia effectively cut him off by igniting her bullet bike.
He sighed theatrically, making sure I heard, before bringing the Harley to life, gunning the engine and following her.
We came to a crossroads and turned right. The road widened as we followed it in a wide loop bearing left around the town. Intermittently placed street lamps sprang up. We passed a big plant lit up like a nova, the stink of sulfur in the air. I turned my face the other way to avoid the glare which made me squint.
We angled nearer the town, in seconds at a crossroads where five roads met. We turned left. More lamps lined the road now. We were soon on the outskirts. We passed a small strip mall, darkened stores with metal grills over doors and windows.
Another turn and we rode between small, two-story, dilapidated buildings. Even in the dim light, I saw peeling paint and graffiti on walls. A few Gelpha moved along the sidewalk, striding with deliberation, hurrying to their destination. Others stood outside buildings, talking, or sat on the edge of the sidewalk with their feet in the gutter.
I would not call it a slum, but it was rundown, seedy.
We sped along, the bikes’ roar amplified by canyon-like streets. I couldn’t tell what we passed; I couldn’t read the Gelpha characters on the walls and doors and saw none of the universal, identifying signs familiar in my world.
We pulled up outside an anonymous building. From the depth of the entrance, I judged the walls were thick; they looked something like adobe. Pale yellow light shone from gaps surrounding shutters on large windows. A foyer lay beyond the
open door. At first my noise-deadened ears heard nothing, then faint voices and music seeped in, and I smelled a sweet, smoky aroma I could not identify.
Chris went inside but rejoined us in a jiffy, two keys jingling from his fingers.
In the small, rectangular foyer, a single warm orange ceiling light cast a lambent glow over the muscular demon behind the desk, bright enough to pick out the glinting strands in his hair and the swirling copper pattern in the camel-brown walls, but not dispel the shadows in the corners. The desk sat against the wall on our left, beyond that a wood staircase crept up till it turned to the right and out of sight. Beyond the desk, a hall led from the foyer to a door through which pale yellow light shone. The clatter of utensils and dishes, voices chatting and that smoky aroma pointed to a place which served food.
I cannot say Gia and I were inconspicuous as we followed Chris in the hostel wearing motorcycle helmets and visors. The Gelpha at the desk didn’t take his eyes off us.
Gia sped to the desk, a shadow shape moving through the foyer. She seemed to reform out of the air, leaned in to bring her face close to the Gelpha’s, and just like that she laid a geis on him. I presumed that’s what she did, because his eyes slid aside and concentrated on me and Chris, as if Gia were not there.
His eyes drilled my back as I followed Chris up the stairs.
were on the first floor, facing across the corridor left of the stairwell. Chris handed Gia a key, but his simmering gray eyes were on me. “If you need anything. A foot massage. A - ”
“Yeah, yeah, I know where you are.” I was in no mood for his inane chatter. I followed Gia, closing the door behind me.
“This is … ah … basic,” I observed as I perused the room.
Two single beds with thin, off-white covers sat side by side, a small brown table between them. Wooden pegs marched in a row on the dingy tan wall next the door. The floor was worn wood boards. Places on the walls were smeared, as if someone attacked them with a damp cloth but gave up after a few swipes. A single bare light bulb hung from the middle of the ceiling. That was it. At least the door had heavy bolts top and bottom.
A single door, the one we came in. Our room didn’t have a bathroom.
I pulled the helmet off and dropped it on the nearest bed. My head throbbed with a dull ache as I scratched my scalp, which itched with sweat. I wanted nothing more than to unbraid my hair and stand under a hot shower. I sat on the edge of the firm mattress and gave it the bounce test. It barely gave, and the springs creaked.
“Okay, so Dun Falmor had a crowd of dead people and I saw who killed them. It looked like a man covered in flames, and his men did the deed.”
Wearing her helmet with the visor flipped up, Gia stood near the door. “Orcus.” She shrugged one shoulder. “But we are here for Cicero, not the Burning Man. Forget what you saw.”
Forget? She had to be kidding. My mouth thinned as I gave her a sour look.
She brought the visor down and put her hand on the doorknob. “I’m going back out to look around. I won’t be long. Stay in the room.” She fastened the helmet’s chin strap. “Do you need anything before I leave?”
I parodied a wince. “Yeah, the facilities.”
The helmet nodded. “Very well. I will accompany you.”
So we were girlfriends going to the bathroom together? I made to follow her, but she didn’t open the door.
I reluctantly regarded my helmet. Right. Have to be anonymous. But I hated to wear the thing again. I opened my backpack and found my hoodie. Putting it on, I tugged the hood down so it all but hid my face.
Gia nodded. I followed her through the door. Chris’s door came open and he stuck his head around the frame.
I sighed. “We’re going to the bathroom.”
“If you need any help… ,” he said with twinkling eyes and wicked grin.
I shook my head in mute irritation. Did he never let up?
Gia led me to a door farther along the corridor, stood aside and gestured for me to enter. It did have a sign on a square piece of wood on the wall, but in that Gelpha script. Chaldean?
The bathroom surprised me. I expected an unsavory facility dingy as the foyer and our room, but it was spacious, with gleaming white tile floor and walls. A white ceramic commode and big, deep oval tub faced me. A pipe with shower head angled from the wall above the tub and a transparent shower curtain could be pulled around. A wood stool and small table were the only furnishings.
No towels. No washcloths. No guest soaps, shampoos and lotions. Travelers in Bel-Athaer must carry their own.
I brought my mini-products but did not think about towels.
At least a roll of toilet paper hung on a wall holder. I did what I had to and rejoined Gia, who leaned against the wall beside the door. A floorboard protested loudly beneath my foot as we walked back to our room. Feeling uncharacteristically edgy, I almost froze in place. The corridor was too dim. The deeply recessed doorways looked like dark hollows.
Gia stayed outside when I went in our room. “Bolt the door. I’ll bring something to eat when I return.”
The damn room didn’t even have a window. With nothing to do, I pushed my hood back, lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. I dozed, struggling awake each time I started to nod off.
I remembered the chocolate bar and shifted to ease it from my back pocket. It had gone soft, but I ate it anyway. Sitting up, I found my diet cola in the backpack, but the can felt warm. Did they have ice here? I’d ask Gia when she returned.
After what seemed hours, but had to be less, I decided to brush my teeth. I wasn’t hungry, I would not eat whatever Gia brought, and my tongue refused to stay away from the film on my teeth.
The tiny bottle of shampoo caught my eye as I took toothbrush and toothpaste from my backpack.
Royal enjoyed helping me with my hair. I went into something akin to rapture as he dried it with the demon heat of his hands. My sight blurred. I imagined him behind me as I sat between his knees, a skein of hair sliding through his palms. I felt his breath on my bare neck.
I had to stop slipping into daydreams of Royal. It helped neither him nor me.
I pulled my hood low on my forehead, slid the bolts aside and closed the door behind me as quietly as I could. Getting to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and leaving took less than five minutes.
Standing squarely in the middle of the passage, legs apart, a man blocked my way. I did not mistake him for a guest.
Clad in tight-fitting black from head to toe - slippers, pants, long-sleeved shirt - an attached hood covered his head and a mask or piece of material his lower face. I couldn’t even see his eyes. Only his pale hands showed. He moved lithely as he slid along the corridor toward me. Closer, I saw a black strap stretched from his shoulder diagonally across his chest to his waist.
His left hand went behind his back, his right over his right shoulder. Completing the Ninja effect, he lifted his hand, bringing with it a long, gleaming, slightly angled blade.
Uh oh.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I crouched, brandishing a toothbrush in one hand and tube of toothpaste in the other.
Then he looked up and I saw his pale-blue eyes. Human. I can hold my own against humans.
I threw the toothbrush and toothpaste at him.
And he ducked! What Ninja ducks dental hygiene products? They must not teach defense against that type of lethal weapons in his dojo.
Underestimating your opponent may be your last mistake. I swore and rocked sideways as his blade slashed out, but the edge sliced into my upper arm. With a yelp, I slammed against the wall and my hand automatically clamped on the wound. Blood oozed between my fingers.
He joined both hands on the sword’s hilt, raised it high and came at me.
I had seconds to notice the way he held his sword, the tendons on back of his hands standing out, skin leached of color from the strength of his grip. A downward cut is hard to pull out of if you put as much power into it as this guy did. Efficient if your vic
tim is paralyzed by terror or pain, or tied down, not so much if they are nimble. This guy was not a pro, but I was injured and stunned that he managed to cut me. I was finished if I waited for the blade to descend. I tried to believe the sting in my arm which would soon blossom into pain was not there, nor the blood running down inside my sleeve to the back of my hand.
Attack often is the best means of defense and surprise is a huge advantage, so I moved a second before he reached me and brought the blade down on my head. Clasping my hands, bobbing down, I ducked beneath his left arm and twisted behind him, and put all the power I could muster into elbowing him in the kidneys.
His back arced into the blow, his arms jerked up. I shoved him into the wall with my shoulder. He had the wherewithal to twitch the blade aside before it cut his face, and his shoulder caught the brunt of the collision.
He turned and swung before I could close in and go for his sword arm, sweeping the sword in a wide arc which brought the tip perilously near my ribcage. I skipped back.
He swept the sword again as he came for me. Moving back was my only choice. I needed a weapon, but I only had my empty hands.
A door on my right opened. I dodged toward it and barely missed a cut meant for my nape. Another black-clad figure who had materialized behind me cursed as his long blade struck the door frame and lodged there. The door slammed before I could reach it, but as I headed in that direction anyway, I rammed into the new guy. His wrist hit the heavy doorknob, his hand came open. His sword hung from the doorframe.
I didn’t go for the sword; I would not know what to do with it. I swiveled past Ninja Two and ended up with my back to the wall a few feet behind him but still on the wrong side; he stood between me and my room.
My peripheral vision caught another black shape coming at me kitty-corner. Jesus Christ! Where were they coming from? They seemed to slip from crevices, like roaches.
Lucky for me they weren’t adroit. I collapsed and tumbled to the other side of the corridor as Ninja Three swung his blade. It slashed over my head and this guy struggled to keep his balance.
Nope, despite the swords and mysterious black outfits, these guys were not professionals. Ninja One’s overhead hack when he could have got me with a sweep or stab told me that. A real Ninja would have had me at the beginning. I was fortunate they didn’t carry guns. Mine would come in mighty handy right now.