Miles scratches his chin as he thinks. “Maybe I should offer four hundred gold for you.”
“What?”
“You know, outbid the two sexy dangerous ladies after you, the two with the big purse.”
“You’re seriously going to ask Yitch if you can buy me? Is that even legal anymore?”
Miles shrugs. “I guess it is for some people. Depends on who you and your family are. But I never tried to buy someone. Ha, I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
Pard shakes his head. “Well, it doesn’t matter, because you aren’t buying me. I won’t allow it.”
“Oh, you won’t allow it, huh?”
“Yeah, I’m not going to be your robe holder for the rest of my life.”
“But you would make such a fine robe holder, professor. You could even remind me about the Hiney whatever it’s called and Gildy’s globblygook of garbage whenever I need it.”
“Shut up, this isn’t a time to joke.”
“So you don’t like the idea? Because I think I could get used to it.”
Pard gives Miles a dirty look. “Anyway—back to the office—and off the buying me nonsense. We need to see that locket to expose Yitch, and soon.”
“No doubt,” Miles says, “and speaking of trial, that would be a trial I’d love to see, Yitch on the stand, sweating and squirming while getting his beak and feathers plucked. Now that, I would pay four hundred gold. Hmm—” Miles stares at the far wall as he wonders if it’s really possible to buy a Yitch trial.
Pard can see the gears turning inside of Miles’s head and cuts him off. “No way will whatever you’re thinking about Yitch and gold ever work. We need to do this ourselves, and if we can’t get in his office, no trial for the condor will ever happen.”
“All right, all right, spoil all my fun. I can at least dream, can’t I? But still, you’re missing something, or maybe you aren’t but haven’t mentioned it yet.”
“What’s that,” Pard says.
“As long as you’re in this school you’re in danger. If Yitch conspired to kill your parents, you’re a threat to him if you find out.” Miles wiggles his fingers at Pard, mimicking a seeros. “And the condor knows you can zap him now with your light trick. If he thinks you’re on to him about your parents too, he may get crazy.”
Pard sneers. “He would deserve a little zap, or even better, a big zap.”
“No arguing with you there, professor. But ideally the best outcome would be you staying at Fairstone and Yitch goes to prison, and not both of you dead or prison.”
“True, true,” Pard says. “So what do you think we should do?”
Miles shrugs. “Maybe we should sleep on it and go at it fresh tomorrow once Yitch settles down. For all we know Eeva may have taken care of your problem for you.”
Pard smiles. The thought of Eeva tormenting Yitch is indeed gratifying. Though the details vague since Pard never before thought of such wickedness that it appears Eeva is capable of. He rubs his sore head and then his tired eyes. “But who’s going to take care of Eeva?” Pard yawns. “Man I’m tired. I feel like I haven’t slept in a week; and my jaw is still sore from last night.”
“I know what we can do,” Miles says.
“What’s that?”
“We can celebrate! It just so happens my brother left an entire crate of the magical elixir we drank last night. I think it’s time for round two with the crossbones.”
Pard cringes and a nauseous sensation overtakes his body. “I don’t think—”
Miles cuts off Pard. “So you don’t want to let loose with more Sully ‘umping, professor?”
“Shut up.”
A STARRY-EYED PLAN
After a long day of tests, Pard is sound a sleep napping and a loud bang on his door wakes him. He jerks up to a seated position and shakes loose his groggy state.
Bang, bang, bang—
Pard glances at the clock and springs out of bed. “Six, shit, I’m late.”
“Open up, Pard,” Miles says from out in the hallway. “Don’t you, or I should say didn’t you have somewhere to be right now?”
Pard yanks open the door. “Sorry, I overslept.”
“Dang, I’ve been waiting for you in the courtyard for the last thirty minutes.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I think that stuff you gave me the other night is still in my system.”
“Quit being a baby. That elixir will make you a man.”
Pard stands with hands on hips. “I hardly think—”
Miles gestures toward the clock and then to the door. “You want to argue or see the girl you were supposed to meet, oh, about two minutes ago?”
“Right.” Pard tugs on a sweater, swings on his cloak and scarf, grabs his pack, and darts for the door. “So I guess you planned on coming with me today?”
“Umm, yeah, that was the plan,” Miles says. “Or did the crossbones make you forget that too?” Miles shakes his head. “Anyway, never mind about that, I need to study for Professor Ames’s nut buster. If it wasn’t for my father who cared about my grades, I wouldn’t care and be happily taking a nap right now, but it’s getting that time of the semester where I actually have to focus.”
Pard glances back at him as they race through the hallway. “Huh, so you do care about your studies. I thought it was a trick or something to want to get tutored by me.”
“That’s a stupid trick. I can imagine a million other things I’d rather be doing right now than studying some stupid treaty that doesn’t matter or the Battle of Bupkis. A trick?” Miles laughs. “What did you imagine my intentions were?”
“I don’t know, maybe to torment me, or maybe you pity me and wanted to see how the kid who lives on the servant’s floor lives. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Shut up, you’re an idiot.” Miles shoves open the main door of Fairstone and skips down the stairs. “Come on, we better pick up our pace and get to the library, lover boy, or the girl might give up as easily as you did at your trial.”
Pard rolls his eyes, tightens his pack strap, and jogs.
At the edge of town, they both slow their stride, out of breath.
Miles rests his hands on hips as he continues forward. He looks up at the fluffy clouds rolling over the twilight sky. “I think the best way for us to get into Yitch’s roost is for one or both of us to meet him inside of his office and then one of us lures him outside. That way we already have a reason to be in there, and while one of us occupies Yitch outside, the other one inspects the goods. What do you think?”
“Sounds like a plan that might work,” Pard says, “probably the best idea so far. So how do we lure him outside?”
“Not sure—still working on that part of the plan.”
Pard peeks behind as they cross the bridge over the Greysin River, and there is Star, following fifty feet behind them and not even trying to hide. “We have company.”
Miles looks back. “Screw this.” He turns around and speed walks straight toward Star.
“What are you doing?” Pard says, turning and following Miles.
“Finding out what this freak show with a tattoo, crazy eye, and goofy cap wants with you.” Miles aggressively points at Star. “Hey, why are you following us?”
Star says nothing and continues to move closer, gazing at Miles with his silver eye through the monocle.
Pard tugs Miles’s arm. “Come on, leave it be, let’s get to the library.”
“No, I can’t. I don’t like low-life scum suckers skulking in the shadows following me around. Besides, it’s still light out in the middle of Greysin.” Miles points to other townsfolk walking around. “What’s tattoo face going to do, shank or kidnap two Fairstone boys out in the open?”
“I guess not.”
Again, Miles flicks his head at Star. “I said, why are you following us, freak show?”
Star continues to ignore Miles, and he strolls past Pard.
Miles turns and follows Star. “You going to ignore me?”
Miles grabs the back of Star’s duster coat and forces him to stop.
“That would be a mistake, Lord Marlow,” Star says, “the fifth and most inconsequential son of the lord of the North.”
“What would be a mistake?” Miles says back with a snap.
“Touching your betters.”
Miles snorts and lets go of the coat. “You, my better, you have to be joking?”
Star glares at Miles with a calmness and coldness over his stubble-laden face that makes Pard uneasy. “I rarely joke.” Star points to the tattoo under his left eye. “But when I do joke, it’s really quite a good laugh.”
“Well, your face is a joke, and you look like an idiot with that stupid star.”
Pard grabs Miles’s wrist and tries to pull him away. “Enough, Miles.”
Star gives Miles a sinister, calculated grin. “Maybe I can make a joker out of you sometime, Lord Marlow.”
Miles puffs out his chest in contempt. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Come on,” Pard says. He forces a smile toward Star. “Sorry, excuse us, we have to go now, good day to you.” Pard Yanks Miles then quickly walks away with baggage in tow.
Star points at his tattoo and then to Pard. “See you soon, Pard Wenerly.”
“Asshole,” Miles says. “I can’t believe that asshole.” Miles whirls around and gives Star the middle finger. “Screw you, go get another star on your face, you loser piece of filth!”
Pard yanks Miles forward. “Stop it. You’ll make him mad.”
“So what! He’s following us, and we need to find out why. Hey, you need to grow a pair.”
Pard ignores Miles and continues to set the fast pace with the library now in sight. “Just move.”
They climb the library stairs and enter, and just inside, Selby is waiting for them by the door.
“Hey, guys,” Selby says with a smile. “I almost thought you forgot about me.”
“Hey, Selby,” Pard says. “Sorry, we got held up.”
Miles scowls and grunts.
Selby’s eyes narrow. “What’s gotten into him?”
“Some guy following us, it’s nothing, pay no mind to Miles. He’s just tempered.”
Selby peers out the window. “All I see is old lady Mildred and her partner old man Bolton walking her miniature poodle.”
“It’s nothing.” Pard shakes his head and then he freezes, as Penter, on the other side of the front of the library, legs crossed and sitting in a large-cushioned viridian chair next to the fireplace, and with a newspaper in hand, he slowly lowers his arms and rests the paper on his lap. He hooks the handle of his coffee cup with his finger then sips it as he nonchalantly glances at Pard over the steaming brim.
Pard sucks in a deep breath. “Right, let’s go to the back to our normal spot.”
Miles grunts.
“Okay,” Selby says with a bright smile.
They make their way through the library and reach their table.
Selby sits and removes a thick, worn book from her backpack, the leather dark-grey. “Hey, I brought something for you to look at today.” On the cover, Rue letters and En symbols. “It’s a Ruen book, like yours, Pard, it’s the book I was referring to as the reason I’m studying Rue. It’s my father’s.” She laughs in a sweet but mischievous way. “He would kill me if he knew I took it out of the house. It’s worth more gold than I can imagine, as you probably know. But I still wanted to show you anyway.”
Pard sits next to Selby and scans the grey cover. He traces his finger over the leather and black symbols.
“What does it say?” Selby says. “It’s definitely not a creature book like yours. The illustrations inside look more like people and towns and maps.”
“Book of the Rue, The Fifteen Places of Fae and Forests,” Pard says, opening the book and leafing through the supple pages. “It looks like a history of an ancient Fae people and places in the Northern Country, mainly the mountain area bordering Lasteane, Erden, Iinia, and Latvin, near the Ranin Forest. There are cities and towns in here I recognize that are still around. Here is a page on the city of Grenia, and here’s another one about the city of Flor, though these accounts are from over three thousand years ago. Wow, this is so cool, Selby.”
“I thought you’d like it. Fae people? I thought that was just myth and legend stuff. Stories our grandmothers used to tell us, not real, like Wintermore.”
Pard nods. “My mother used to say some of those ancient stories are true, but just twisted from the thousands of years of retelling.” Pard continues to leaf through the book, and then he closes it and flips it over.
“What are you looking for?” Selby says, leaning in closer.
“Usually in the back of these texts there is a section dedicated for the owners of the book to add notes and what not.”
“Huh, that’s interesting.”
“Yeah, and sometimes you can piece together a history about the book by the notations.”
Pard opens the back cover to a few blank pages, then leafs through them until he reaches the last page with writing on it. His face goes still.
“What is it—what’s wrong?” Selby says. “What does it say?”
“It says DW, formally DV, who received this book from KV, now passes this volume on to PW.”
“What does that mean?”
Miles, mind sharp and focused, scowls and leans across the table. “It means your father, the mayor, is a scumbag conspirator to murder, same as Yitch and the starry-eyed asshole following us all the way to the library.”
Selby gasps and presses her hand over her mouth. Then she sits up straight and gets defensive. “How dare you! Who do you think you are saying such things about my father and Headmaster Yitch?”
“I’m Lord Miles Marlow, fifth son of the Lord of the Latvin and Protector of Bastin, that’s who I am. Who the hell are you to question what I say?”
Pard’s eyes shoot open telling Miles to back off.
“Pompous prick.” Selby snatches the Ruen book away from Pard, slams it shut, and is about to stand.
Miles snaps forward and rips the book out of Selby’s hand.
“What do you think you’re doing? Give me my book back!”
“Your book?” Miles says, and then he snorts. “Are your initials PW?”
“Miles, give it back to her,” Pard says. “It’s okay.”
“The hell with that. I’m not giving her your book back so she can take it home to daddy dearest. And a lowborn daddy dearest at that.”
Selby squints in fury. “Pard’s book, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying PW—how many PW’s do you know, Selby Barrow?”
“None, but that book is thousands of years old.”
“Pard’s initials are PW.” Miles flicks his head at Pard. “What’s your mother’s name?”
“Really, Miles, it’s okay, we don’t have to do this right now.”
“Name, Pard?”
Pard shakes his head and looks away. “Dora.”
Miles nods at Selby. “DW, Dora Wenerly.” Miles turns back to Pard. “What was her maiden name?”
Selby stares at Pard.
Pard purses his lips. “Vonn, Dora Vonn.”
Miles taps his finger on the Ruen cover. “DW, Dora Wenerly, formally DV for Vonn, who received this book from KV, probably her mother, now passes this volume onto her son PW, Pard Wenerly.”
“Impossible,” Selby says.
“Pard, what is your grandmothers name?”
“Kora Vonn.”
Miles grins, pleased with himself. “It all makes sense now.”
“What makes sense?” Selby says.
“How and why Pard’s parents were killed, their stolen items, one of those items in my hand right now, this Ruen book, was given to the mayor to cover-up the murders and conspiracy, and Pard’s mother’s Ruen locket, also stolen, is now residing in Yitch’s office.”
“Lord
Yitch? The headmaster of Fairstone?”
“Yes, that same one. Him and your father and whoever else conspired to steal Ruen items from Pard’s parents. When the robbery didn’t go as planned, they killed them, and what better way to cover-up such a thing than for the headmaster at the school and the mayor of the town to conspire to cover it up together.”
Selby presses her hand over her mouth and slumps in her chair. “I can’t believe it, my father. I just can’t believe it.”
“Believe it! Yitch has already been trying to get rid of Pard with a sort of farce trial, and now there are shady men following him.” Miles turns to Pard. “We need to collect all these items as evidence against those responsible for your parents’ death, before they all disappear. We need to get into Yitch’s office like right now and see that locket. If it really is your mother’s, which it is, we need to steal it back and present everything to Professor Videl or Professor Ames.”
Pard slowly nods as it all sinks in and what must be done. With kind eyes, he looks at Selby. “I’m sorry you had to hear your father might be apart of this, and maybe he isn’t and came into possession with this book by accident. But Miles is right, this is my family’s book, and I can’t let you have it back with all that’s going on right now.”
Selby shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing, my father couldn’t have—”
Miles snorts. “Couldn’t he?”
“I’m sorry, Selby,” Pard says.
“Why are you telling her you’re sorry?” Miles says. “Her father’s the piece of crap who probably conspired to kill your parents. She should tell you she’s sorry.”
Selby sighs. “Miles is right.” She turns to Pard. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t believe it yet.”
Pard touches Selby’s arm to comfort her. “Look, let’s assume your father is innocent for the time being and got this book unknowingly.”
Selby forces a smile.
“Come on, Pard,” Miles says. “We need to get inside of Yitch’s office right now.”
“Without a plan?”
“We need to find out what’s really going on here before this gets more dangerous, and before all the evidence disappears. We’ll figure out something on the fly. I’m sure something will come to me.”
The Ruens of Fairstone (Aeon of Light Book 2) Page 18