"Me?" Aia squeaked, "Yeah, just for myself."
"Evening rush is in a couple hours. You're welcome to help me back in the kitchen, unless you have something more interesting to do."
Aia looked to Les, who shrugged at her. Aia mirrored him. "I guess I don't have anything else to do. Have you worked back there, Les?"
"This place hasn't burned down yet, has it?" Les laughed and shook his head. "She doesn't want me back there. No, I've been sticking to the gardens. I'm sure Garren didn't tell you that we can go upstairs and into the backyard, so long as we don't go outside the property. It keeps me from going completely insane."
* * *
Glancing over the page in his pilfered mystery story, Les watched as the regular patrons trickled in. Dinner time at the lodge was busy. More than twenty people were stuffed in the too-small common room along with the bartender, waiter, and numerous working boys and girls. The men who showed up were fairly predictable, most of them lower clergy at the monument. They each had individually perverse tastes in women, and Les had learned each one of them.
Women who presented to the lodge were less predictable, some seeking the comfort of another woman, others widows looking for men who reminded them of their deceased lovers. There were several younger people who came for the ale, watered-down as it was, as well as the gossip. Torvid's Rest was filthy with rumors of who slept with whom and which farmer was cheating the blacksmith and so on. Then, of course, there were the travelers. The travelers were conspicuous, because they were the only people desperate enough to touch the food. Alex was many things, but a cook she was not.
After almost a week of people-watching, Les had more than satisfied his curiosity in the inn's clientele. He preferred to hide out in his room or out in the gardens, but this night he knew he needed to stay out in the open until the new guy showed up. Teveres had to be almost as clueless as he was when he arrived at Torvid's Rest. If Teveres's reputation was anywhere near true, he was also just as enraged over the entire ordeal.
Les sipped his coffee - almost as watered-down as the ale - and leaned back into the shadows. Nobody noticed him anymore. He had become a permanent fixture in the basement of nowhere. Naturally, he had not told anyone but Aia and Alex about his status as baron. He preferred his alternate identity as The Mirror. Whatever the heyhateverperson he was fixated on talked about, he reflected their hopes and ideals back at them. He found that it was a fast way to make "friends," and an efficient means of gathering information. In the end, the exercise was little more than a source of amusement. The patrons of the basement were not there because their lives were going interesting places. Then again, it appeared that Les's life was getting a little too interesting.
Occasionally he saw a flash of auburn hair through the doorway as Aia scurried through the kitchen. Though busy, it appeared that she was having fun back in Alex's kitchen. He rather liked Aia, who seemed like a genuinely nice girl. It was too bad that she was stuck in whore prison with him, waiting for some unknown task which may or may not end in all their deaths. He had a feeling that she was the kind of person who served as the lone bright spark in the middle of a maelstrom - too good for her circumstances, but a godsend for everyone she touched. Aia and his wife back in Pelle would doubtless become fast friends, if they ever met.
In the first few days after leaving Pelle, thinking about Cadde back home all alone made him sad. He missed falling asleep against the warmth of her body, running his hand over the curve of her hips. Some mornings he would wake up with a pillow in his arms only to find he was still in the basement, waiting for his judgment. Eventually the sadness hardened into cold, unfocused rage.
He had worked in politics long enough to understand that the people at the bottom were not the people to fight. Garren and Alex were not intrinsically bad; indeed, they were civil and kind once he got to know them. Though they were complicit in the scheme to bring him to Torvid's Rest, hurting them would be pointless. It was someone at the top who needed to be punished. He just had to find out who it was.
Les almost dropped his coffee when Teveres walked out into the common room. Dayle had once travelled to Pelle for a council meeting while Les was baron. Even looking as disheveled and bruised as Teveres did, there was no mistaking him as Dayle's son. The son shared the same stature and sharp features as his father. Teveres was surveying the room the way Les usually would, looking for the right place to blend in. Les refilled the mug of coffee with the carafe on the table before he approached his fellow Deldri. It would be impossible to sneak up on the man; Teveres had already taken careful note of him, a calculating look in his eyes that made Les paradoxically self-conscious.
"You look a little lost," Les said casually. "Take a walk with me?"
There was the slightest smile at the corner of Teveres's mouth. He glanced back at the kitchen thoughtfully, where Aia again darted past the doorway. Mind made up, Teveres jammed his hands in his pockets. "Lead on," he replied.
Les took Teveres down the long hall past the guest rooms to a locked door. Alex had given him the key early in his stay; the door led to a staircase which took them up to the kitchen's garden. Two old sheds stood precariously against the inn's outer wall. The fence on either side was tall and lined at the top with barbed wire. The far end of the garden was bordered by the sharp slope of the mountain against which the lodge was built. It was purposefully difficult to get in or out of.
The stars were their only lights; the hallowed sound of wind through thshad throue mountains the only noise. The solitude of the garden was awe-inspiring compared to the constant hum of activity in the lodge.
Teveres studied the yard quietly, leaning up against the lodge. He raised expectant eyebrows in Les's direction. "Nice to meet you, too."
Les smirked and inclined his head. "I have no interest in playing games with you, so spare me the vague displays of rhetoric. The Kaldari have all of us on the cutting board."
"I wasn't playing," Teveres responded in earnest. "My name is Teveres, but you already knew that. I seem to be the one at a disadvantage."
"I sincerely doubt that you are disadvantaged in anything."
Teveres nodded curtly, stretching out his shoulders to fill the silence. He was clearly not a man who needed assurances of himself.
"I'm Les, Baron of Pelle." He held out his caffeinated peace offering, which was beginning to go cold. "The healer tells me you had a rough night."
A bemused expression on his face, Teveres took a sip cautiously before slamming back the entire contents with purpose.
Les laughed. "A little aggressive, don't you think?"
"Not nearly aggressive enough," said Teveres, tossing the mug to the ground. "So what do you want, Baron?"
"I'm not interested in taking anything from you." Les looked Teveres squarely in the eyes. "I think we can help each other. I don't know how much you already know about why we're here. Unlike some of us, I'm not a telepath."
"And I'm not a very good one," Teveres countered, pushing off from the wall to stroll the lines of crops. He plucked a few berries from one of the plants, popping them in his mouth. "The shit that's going down here is about to get ugly, I can guarantee you that. I don't think you want to be on any side of that conflict."
"What I want doesn't matter much anymore," said Les, falling in step beside Teveres. "I wouldn't be here if this was about what I want."
"Couldn't agree more." Teveres looked up at the sky, taking a long breath. "What did Aia tell you, exactly?"
"About you? Not much." Les gave him a sidelong glance, "Are you two...?"
The unspoken words hung just heavy enough for Les to gather that there was a latent something between the healer and the killer. Teveres, to his credit, did not balk at the question as some people would. Instead, he fingered the leaves on a struggling grape bush with a clinical eye. "She could do a lot better than me."
Oh really. Les nodded as if he understood more than he did.
"You're a good politician," Teveres commente
d, changing the s toanging ubject with a deft tongue. "I would say that it's the same as being a good liar, but I think that cheapens your skills. I need to know whatever you've found out if we're going to have a chance of getting out of this alive."
"Fair enough," Les said gamely. Anxious to do something with his hands during the inevitably long discussion, Les drew a hand-rolled smoke from his pocket. In his time at the lodge, Les had developed two new hobbies: pick-pocketing and smoking. The skills went together nicely. "Want one?"
Accepting the offer with an open hand, Teveres sniffed the roll discerningly. "Covash, very nice. I wouldn't expect a baron to carry this kind of contra
band."
"I wouldn't have expected to end up in this kind of place. I thought I'd broaden my palate while I still could." Igniting his own cig before passing Teveres the similarly lifted lighter, Les took a long drag of the minty herbs, savoring the tight warmth expanding into his chest. As he exhaled his body became artificially buoyant, like floating still amongst ocean waves. He cleared his throat. "Here it goes..."
Chapter 7
It was past midnight when the kitchen finally began to wind down. Wiping sweat from her brow, Aia finally extinguished the last burner on the brick stove. She worked in close quarters with Alex, the lodge's kitchen hardly bigger than her own back in Nivenea. Aia was pleased to have spent at least a few hours doing something to get her mind far, far away from her troubles. Salt, pepper and vinegar were elements in her life that she could control. The food that the kitchen produced that night was, according to Alex, the best they had ever made. The money they cleared was substantial. Dishes in the sink and a rag in hand, Alex had a dance in her step while she cleaned.
"I might have to steal you from Garren," Alex chirped, "You have a talent for this."
Aia grinned to herself, covering a pot of sauce from the stove for storage in the icebox. "My grandmother always told me that alchemy and kitchenry are kindred sciences."
"The more I hear about your grandmother, the more I like her."
"You two would have gotten along," said Aia. She meant it, too. Her grandmother loved vibrant personalities such as Alex's.
Aia's peripheral vision caught the glimpse of Les and Teveres as they slowly trekked back through the common room. Teveres's color had returned, and on his face she saw the bright smile that he shared so sparingly. He was deep in conversation with Les, who he seemed to genuinely like. The energy coming off of their exchange lifted the room.
"You should go talk to him," Alex said softly, nudging Aia's shoulder. While working in the kitchen, Aia expounded on her frustration over Teveres's attitude, leaving aside some of the more sensitive details. Alex was a willing, receptive listener. Aia had never had a close female friend like most women, but she imagined that if she were to have one, she w thould have to be like Alex.
"I don't think he wants to talk to me. I wouldn't want to talk to me."
"Honey, I've learned something about Garren over the years. If you don't get your personal things out of the way while you have the time, he's not going to give you the time later. You should go."
Aia watched Teveres quietly for a moment. He was beginning to cross into the hallway. Before he could get there, Alex near-forcibly pushed her out the kitchen doorway.
All but a few patrons had cleared out of the common room, the last stragglers gathered around the bar. Les and Teveres looked up at Aia in unison as she approached, making it clear that she was an outsider in their pack. She nodded at both of them. "Looks like you two get along alright."
"Imagine my relief," Les said with a cockeyed grin.
Teveres's earlier joviality dimmed with Aia's approach as he tried his best to put on a polite front. In the shady common room light she could swear she saw him blush slightly. His energy retracted inwards in a show of dilute shame.
Sensing the tension, Les nodded off towards the hallway. "Well, I'm done for the night. Unfortunately I will see both of you here in the morning."
As Les departed Teveres slowly edged in the same direction. He cleared his throat, "I'm rooming with Les tonight, so I guess I should-"
"Can it wait? I thought we should talk."
Teveres hesitated. "Here?"
"Well, wherever. I just... I didn't mean to attack you. I was frustrated."
His smile was weak. "My sisters did always tell me that I'm a frustrating person."
"They're probably right," Aia joked, attempting to lighten the mood. She went to take a seat at the shadowy far-corner table and waited until he took a seat opposite her. She crossed her legs indelicately, avoiding his gaze. "So Les explained things to you?"
"He did."
His curt responses were making it difficult for her to work in what she wanted say. Sighing loudly, she caught his eyes - his pretty, otherworldly eyes - and for millionth time resisted reaching out to touch him. "Are you okay now?"
He looked at her fearlessly, regretful but relieved. "As okay as I'm going to be, yes," he paused, "Likewise, I did not mean for you to see any of that last night. It was... impolite."
"Well, it was not what I expected for my first time sleeping with a drunk man."
His cheeks flushed more deeply. He was smiling in spite of himself. She leaned forward to speak. "You know, you're not a bad person. I honestly believe that."
He ran a hand through his sand-colored hair, leaninheshair, lg back in his chair. "It doesn't seem to matter what I want to be, or what I seem to be. I always hurt the people around me. You have to know by now that you should just leave me here alone."
Please, don't leave me here alone. The words from her suicide attempt two years past resounded in Aia's mind, the same voice that kept her alive through her trials in Seldat. His voice.
She must have looked dazed, because lines of concern showed on his face as he lowered his tone. "I'm sorry. I know you mean well, and I can't keep putting my problems-"
"No, it's alright." Aia's voice was a distant echo in her ears. She couldn't process the significance of it, whatever it really meant. She could think of no easy way to discuss it. "I just... I didn't want this to be awkward. I know your life is complicated. I want us to be... friends. I'm here for a reason. My grandmother would say it was the gods will."
"I'm not sure the gods have anything to do with me. I'll deal with what comes. I always have."
Even if it shouldn't be your burden.
"So tell me," he rewarded her with the same expression he wore when he walked in with Les. "What do you think of our newest associate?"
"He's a good guy. It's times like these that I'm glad I don't have to blindly trust most people, because I'm not sure I'd trust him otherwise. It's probably the best thing about reading minds, knowing if someone is honest."
"At times it feels dishonest to be able to vet others around me while they cannot know my motives. I always have the upper hand in a conversation, even if it's just a slight edge. Unfortunately I don't have your precision."
"My precision?"
"When you were... well," he motioned over his skull, "I could feel it, and I could tell you were learning very specific things. You can read exactly the words I am thinking when we communicate."
"You can't?"
He raised an eyebrow. She realized suddenly that she was asking him to reveal a weakness, and was surprised when he continued. "You project words to me when you're communicating. If I were to try to collect them myself, it would not be so clear. I can feel emotions and intentions; anything more than that I consider luck. It does seem that you lack certain qualities I have, though."
"Oh?"
"Unless you are very subtle about manipulating people."
The way he spoke was just a tad cold, enough to cause her apprehension. "Manipulating?"
"If the target is poorly self-aware, I can... guide them... to certain actions."
"How?"
"It's difficult to explain if you have no reference for it.&querse for iot;
"Why don't you show me?"
He shook his head vigorously. "You don't want that. Even the ungifted can feel violated by it."
"It's not a violation if I'm asking for it."
"The next time I do it, you'll know. You can be sure of that."
Their conversation lulled and tension built back up between them. Aia could think of several things she wanted to discuss, all of them inappropriate. If they were anywhere else, she could think of plenty of normal things to talk about. It seemed inappropriate to discuss commonplace topics at such a juncture. She could ask about the day she attempted suicide, or his relationship with Veni and his possible child, but those questions might not go over very well.
Politely bidding Teveres good night, Aia retreated to her room. In the waking moments before she slept, Teveres's words in her head were both soothing and puzzling. The two of them had always been connected, even in Seldat. It should not have been possible over such distance, yet she was certain the voice was his. His force of will kept her believing that her life was worth living all those years, even if he did not seem to remember. Perhaps he never knew.
* * *
"You need to thrust," Teveres demonstrated his instructions with his stick. "Like this. Slashing around might tire them out, but hitting organs is what will take them down quickly."
Les mirrored Teveres's movements almost to Teveres's satisfaction. Les's hair stuck out all askew, his ill-fitting, borrowed t-shirt was soaked with sweat in the cool evening air. He was panting, each movement more anemic than the last.
The sun was setting over Torvid's Rest. The coastal western breeze blew through the garden's leaves, making soft swishing sounds. Teveres had cleared out a circular arena in the corner of the garden where the fence met the mountain face. He removed all the rocks and weeds, creating a smooth surface on which to practice knife work. Aia sat on a weather-torn bench just outside the circle, her black cloak spun tightly around her. Les gave the bench a longing look.
Tragedy (Forsaken Lands) Page 10