by O. J. Lowe
“It’s a gift. Give me any subject, I can make it so colourfully cringeworthy, it’ll astound you.”
She stared at him, shook her head in disbelief. “Peter Jacobs, next time you want to talk to me, put your hand up. Otherwise I’m not listening to you.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“La-la-la-la-la.” She stuck both her hands over her ears and made the sound. Loud and noticeable. A few people glanced at the three of them, Scott hoped nobody recognised him.
“Okay, because that’s really mature,” Pete muttered. If anything, that made it worse. She couldn’t quite hide the grin as she did it again.
“And unattractive,” Scott added. “You’re embarrassing us, Jess. Knock it off.” There were a few more amused faces around them as the banter continued. She glanced around to confirm what he’d said wasn’t a lie, rolled her eyes and then strode off ahead with deceptive speed. Scott and Pete looked at each other and shrugged. The unspoken word lingered between them, a silent understanding of camaraderie in unity against a common enemy.
Women!
They’d found somewhere to eat, no problem. Since they were still in Burykia and not in a particularly commercial part of it, it was local cuisine or being fleeced at the aeroport for something that tasted like it had spent a week travelling in a dirty sweatbox from Premesoir. Pete, playing the cynic, had quipped that was Premesoir cooking at the best of times.
His experiences in Burykia had told him the out of the way places served just as good food as places you’d probably have to pay through the nose for where they had the basic amenities like running water in the bathrooms or air conditioning or even napkins and cutlery. Burykian food sat light on the stomach. More than that, it smelled damn good. Even walking the street, he caught the aroma on the air of exotic sauces too unfamiliar to name offhand, travelling from a small café just down the way. The village had the one main street, they’d found themselves heading down it, quickly realising it was too small to have a calling champion, meaning it wasn’t even as if the hours could be wiped away with the chance of prize money.
“So,” Scott said, jerking his head towards the café. “There?”
“No complaints here,” Pete muttered. “Long as we get something.” He rubbed his stomach theatrically. “I miss aeroships that serve food. Damn budget transport.”
“I don’t see anywhere else around here,” Jesseka said. “Come on, let’s do it. Reckon we can get some of that Burykianberry wine. Never seen them serve it anywhere else.”
“Funny that,” Pete said dryly. “What an amazing coincidence you’ve never seen Burykianberries in any other kingdom than Burykia. It’s like they’re indigenous to here or something, but that’d be crazy, right?”
She punched him on the arm. “No need for that now, is there?”
It was Scott’s turn to shake his head, couldn’t hide the grin as they made the walk. Tournaments came and went, yet this was the life. You couldn’t compensate for times like this, friends and loves out on the road, struggling to get by. Maybe he was an optimist. But a part of him had that sinking feeling that it wasn’t going to last forever. It tugged at him like a persistent pet, clamoured for attention in the back of his mind.
It had been busier than they’d expected it to be in the café. They’d waited a few minutes for a table, eventually finding the one they’d been assigned to be halfway between the kitchen and the exit, out in the middle of the floor, a moderately sized circle with a pair of V shaped couches around it. Scott sat on one side, Jess next to him while Pete went to the other and flopped down into it.
He’d felt more than a little awkward as he’d walked through, realising they were the youngest people in the room by a mile and people had noticed. Everyone else looked like they’d succumbed to middle age long ago; some of them had long since left it behind them. Still, as Jess had said, it wasn’t like there was much else to choose from.
The waitress, a plain-looking Burykian wearing a just-as-plain uniform had brought them menus and a large jug of water. In short order, three glasses were also on the table. Just as she’d mentioned, Jess had ordered wine. Burykianberry wine was a deep shade of crimson, almost pink and had a spicy overtone to it. Both Scott and Pete had helped themselves to some of it, much to her mock chagrin and the food had followed soon after, the sauces smelling even better up close. Nothing fancy, just meat and rice, noodles and peppers and tomatoes cut together and fried in the local delicacies.
Scott’s food had a rich taste of onion, garlic and lemon to it, the flavours clashing in his mouth. That was the beauty of Burykian food. You’d never expect it to catch on as a trend, but it didn’t just work, it thrived. The wine aside, you could find places in all five kingdoms that sold the food ready-made for those that couldn’t or didn’t want to prep it themselves.
Jess’ food was just as good, she speared a length of prawn coated in a thick purple-coloured broth and bit down on it, halving its size with one bite. She let out a little moan of contention; he had to smirk. He’d heard her make that sound before, never in public.
“Is that genuine aphrashi?” Pete wondered, looking over his dish of ginger noodles and stuffed peppers. Scott noted he still wasn’t eating meat. He had to give his friend credit; he’d kept that vow up a lot longer than he thought he would.
“Yup,” Jess said. “Good aphrashi.” She took another bite, swallowed and smiled. “You ever eaten it?”
“I’ve tasted the sauce in the past. I know a guy who used to drink a cup of it every day. For his health, he said.”
“Well there you go,” Scott said. “Can’t argue with that. Don’t want you getting sick, eh? How’s the noodles, Petey?”
“Fair. Ginger’s a bit strong,” he said. “That aside, it’s good.”
Scott made a face at the mention of ginger. “Don’t understand how you can eat that stuff, it’s foul.”
“Can’t beat a bit of ginger,” Pete said. “Excluding present company obviously,” he added, gesturing a fork towards Jess’ hair.
“Do you mind? Someone might lose an eye if you call me ginger again. This is auburn, you blind dick,” she said, furrowing an eyebrow. Scott smirked inside. He’d seen that before. And he had to admit, it looked fantastic.
“Ginger if you’re a guy,” he said. “Redhead or auburn if you’re a girl. That’s the way my sister used to tell it.”
“Sounds about right,” Scott said before the thought struck him. “Sharon’s a blond!”
“Wasn’t always.” There wasn’t much arguing there, he didn’t want to dwell on his mixed experiences with Pete’s sister when he’d rather be eating.
They’d continued the meal, finishing the main and moved onto a final course on Pete’s suggestion, a sticky local delicacy with a taste of honey and nuts, coated in cream. One large dish and three spoons, the way the waitress assured them it was meant to be eaten, in broken words. Looking around told Scott that she wasn’t lying. A few other tables had the dish out on it, whole families enjoying it at their leisure. Jesseka had taken one bite and refused to eat any more. He couldn’t fault her. The nuts were bitter, and the honey had a strange tang to it, not unpleasant but unable to place the flavour. The cream was horribly sweet, made him want to cringe. Still, he’d managed to get a decent helping down, once he’d gotten used to the strange blend of textures and flavours, he’d found it wasn’t bad. Jess on the other hand had helped herself to more of the wine, blood flushed into her face as she drained the contents of one glass after another.
As Pete had excused himself, Scott found his mind wandering onto the Quin-C and what was to come. It wasn’t to be a long train of thought, he found himself distracted by Jess sidling up to him on the strange shaped chairs, rubbing his chest with her hand.
“Hey,” she murmured. She sounded a little sleepy. He put an arm around her, kissed her forehead tenderly. He could smell the sauce on her breath as she exhaled. “Remember how we were supposed to be on vacation? And now we’re running
across the kingdom again.”
“Yeah… I know,” he said. “Sorry. I mean it. I… I didn’t know this was coming up.”
“Why is it whenever we get comfortable, something shows up?” she asked, straightening herself up. Annoyance had crept into her voice and he didn’t like the way it looked like it might go. “If it’s not Pete, it’s someone else. If it’s not someone else, it’s something else. Where does it end? I mean I was enjoying that hotel. We were relaxing. Together. Just you and me. And then we get kicked out because he froze up the swimming pool when you fought him. Banned for life. From a fucking hotel!”
“It thawed out,” Scott said. “And…”
“And you didn’t help things either. You don’t have to fight someone just because you were challenged to a duel.”
That stung a bit, he blinked several times. How in the hells was he supposed to put her right diplomatically? How was he to tell her that that was exactly what he had to do? It was part of the Caller Code. Still, what more to expect from her. She could be like this sometimes. Usually when he least expected it. Best just to ride it out. She didn’t understand. More than that, she didn’t want to understand. Their disciplines were too different.
“I said I was sorry about that,” he said slowly. “I didn’t invite him. What can I do when he shows up uninvited?”
She raised an eyebrow suspiciously. This, he didn’t find adorable. Rather, the opposite. It made him want to tell her to shove her suspicions where the sun wouldn’t touch them for a thousand years. He refrained, decided he liked his teeth where they currently were.
“How did he find us?”
Scott gulped; suddenly realising he didn’t have an answer to that question. It was like being interrogated by one of those Unisco guys. You probably were guilty; they just hadn’t decided what of yet and were hoping you’d incriminate yourself, saving them the trouble. Passing it off as luck wasn’t going to cut any ice. She had the look of a hungry dragon about her, focused on pouncing when he tripped up.
“Okay, so I might have been in touch,” he muttered. “I got a message off him; he said he needed to talk. I didn’t know he was going to show up. Just like I didn’t know I was going to go to the Quin-C.”
His voice rose, he felt angry as he said it. He was amazed nobody had glanced over to see the argument. Maybe they didn’t understand the language. Or care. Nice if Hoko was the only town in the kingdoms where you could have an argument without everyone trying to listen in. It was unlikely. Nosey bastards existed everywhere; the sad fact was they were never going to go extinct. “Let’s not start this stuff again.”
“What stuff?” She sounded genuinely outraged. “What stuff are we talking about then? Come on, let’s hear it. This should be good.”
Coming to a place that served wine had been a stupid thing to do, in hindsight. He didn’t know who was worse. Her for doing it, or him for facilitating it.
“Jess…” he started to say. “I mean it. Let’s not do this. I’m not in the mood.” He meant it as well, letting the hard edge creep into his voice. It might not do a damn bit of good, if she meant to go off on one, there was likely little he’d be able to do to halt it. All he could do was just go with the flow, hope it wasn’t too bad. “Stop. Calm down. You’ll embarrass yourself.”
That was the moment Pete chose to return, dropping down on his chair with a sigh of relief. “Who’s embarrassing who now?” he asked with interest. “What did I miss while I was out?”
Scott caught Jess’ eye. He shook his head ever so slightly, mouthing the word ‘truce’ at her. It’d wind her up, if the past was anything to go by, but at the same time she was just too damn proud. Whatever their problems were, it was between her and him. And while she might be okay doing the argument in front of complete strangers whom she would never see again, doing it in front of someone they both knew was something entirely different. It was anathema to her. She’d rather die. Even if it was someone she didn’t much care for, like Pete. Strange but something he was entirely thankful for. He didn’t want to have to put up with her shit for much more than he had to. That was enough for tonight.
Either way she nodded and that was enough for him. That was the end of it, he hoped.
“Ah, were just talking,” he said. “Just about something that happened the other day. Was funny. You had to be there, right Jess?”
“Yeah, right,” she said lazily. “Something happened other day. Was funny. You had to be there apparently.”
He rolled his eyes at her, fought the urge to shake his head. You could at least make the effort, he felt like saying. It wouldn’t have done anyone any good. For a moment it might have felt good, but the long term would have been killer. It would have been monumentally stupid. Last thing he needed was a blazing row. Second to last thing he needed was Pete’s inevitable sarcasm following said argument.
“Anyway, are we paying and getting out of here?” he eventually did say instead. He avoided looking at Jess as he got to his feet. “I mean, we can’t stay here forever now, can we?”
“I don’t know, it’s not a bad place,” Pete said. “Still I get what you mean. Moving on has its charms.”
“There’s probably worse places to be,” Jess muttered sarcastically. “I can think of better as well.” That was said with a pointed look at Pete who looked nonplussed at Scott, shrugging as if to ask, ‘what have I done now.’ Scott said nothing, realised there wasn’t an easy way to tell Pete to ignore her.
The aeroship wasn’t going to leave for another few hours yet. With food out of the way, Pete had suggested sleeping at the port, even seeing if they’d let them back on the ship for the duration so they could at least suffer some semblance of comfort. Jess had been all for getting a room to share between the three of them. Scott had shot that idea down immediately. He’d travelled with Pete before, he knew for a fact he was a snorer and he didn’t want to suffer it again unless he had to. Something which looked more and more likely by the minute. Plus, he didn’t want to hear Jess complaining about Pete snoring either. Anything for a peaceful night.
Hence the wandering through the streets with the sunlight slowly fading and the nightlife, such as it was, coming gradually into a peak. Some activity lingered on the streets, but not much. It was a pleasant night, warm without being overbearing, quiet but for the gentle wind sweeping listlessly through the empty path, a lazy wind sounding not entirely comfortable with its own presence.
“Peaceful enough for you?” Scott asked, leaning in close to Jess so only she could hear him. “I mean…”
She gave him such a pointed look he shut up. Pushing the point wouldn’t do him any favours.
“It’s a nice night,” Pete said. “Seems a shame to spend it cooped up in the station waiting room. Maybe there’s somewhere out here we can bunk down. Sleep under the open air.”
“You know who does that?” Scott asked. “People who can’t afford motel rooms for the night.”
“Or people who don’t want to pay for motel rooms,” Jess chimed in. That might have been directed at him. He ignored it. “People who don’t want to pay for more than one anyway.” Okay, it had been directed at him. He wasn’t against sleeping outside. He’d done it before. It wasn’t uncommon amongst junior spirit callers having to sleep outdoors until they won some credits. Those who didn’t come from credits had no choice. He’d had some nice nights out under the stars. The best ones, in hindsight, had been when he was alone.
“You know what I miss?” he said softly. Both Pete and Jess looked at him, Pete with curiosity, Jess with acid-tipped ire. He bit down the urge to say, ‘being single sometimes’ and smiled. “I miss that first trip we ever took. Remember that? Our first big adventure.”
“Remember it?” Jess said. “Not likely to forget working in that place. Or our first meeting.”
“I definitely do,” Pete quipped, leering around at her. “You were pretty much ass naked wrapped around… Was it a centaur? I’m not sure I’d call it dancing. Not the stu
ff you’ll see mainstream anyway. But it sure as hells was entertaining. I didn’t even realise some of that stuff was legal.” Jess glared at him, made like she wanted to punch him out. He ducked back, shot a grin at her. “Best thing I’ve ever paid fifty credits to watch. Just sad you didn’t let me stuff them in your thong.”
“I think it was,” Scott said as if Pete hadn’t spoken. “But not the point. You remember how we were then? Psyched up for the future? Everything was changing. I’d just become a caller, Pete had won some tournaments and you’d decided that taking your clothes off for credits wasn’t something you wanted to do.”
“It’s a very flippant way to put it,” Pete said. “But yeah. Are you feeling nostalgic?”
“Sometimes I miss it,” Scott said. “It felt less complicated back then. You know what I mean?”
“Sort of,” Pete nodded. Jess hesitated for a moment and then inclined her head briefly. Scott grinned. And with that, the subject had been well and truly changed. Scott Taylor, for the win. Him one, friends zero. He made a mental note never to say that out loud.
It had been a lie. He didn’t miss the old days one bit. They might have been simpler; he couldn’t deny that. But they hadn’t been better. He didn’t have any more problems back then than he did now. They’d just been traded up for different problems. It was starting to sound cynical but that was life. He was better off now than back then. End of story. A lot better. Very little of it he’d swap for what he had now.
“Hey, what’s that?”
He looked up, suddenly curious as to what Jess had seen. Against the dimming sky, he saw the outline of something huge stood straddling the outskirts of the town, something an interesting shape. Vaguely he recalled seeing something similar from the air as the aeroship had come to land and suddenly his curiosity was caught. If nothing else, it’d while away some time. As he moved closer, he found himself getting a clearer look and his interest rose further. He found his pace quickening as he cut the distance towards the small garden ahead, both Pete and Jess following him. It sounded like they were as suddenly curious as he was.