“Hand,” Enrico said holding his own hand back up with a tight smile.
The smile faded when the child hit Enrico’s hand out of its way with a casual violence, then smiled shyly to Aldera, and held its hand out again.
“Hand,” it said to Aldera.
“You should come out, it’s not safe,” Aldera said, her eyes focused on the child, but seeing the blood that dripped from between Enrico’s fingers.
“No. She didn’t realize she hurt me. Besides she just doesn’t understand the differences between our species.” Enrico took a cloth out of his pocket and began wrapping up the small cuts.
“! Ay!” the child said in Spanish.
“Yes, ouch. Amigo’s hand ouched Enrico’s hand,” Enrico said in Sansheren and reached out to use the child’s hand to pantomime the swipe that drew blood.
“Ouch. Enrico,” the child said in Sansheren and moved closer to him.
Enrico could see Aldera tense out of the corner of his eye.
“Yes, ouch. Enrico’s hand hurts.”
“Enrico hand ouch. Amigo hand ouch,” the child said, and Enrico saw Aldera relax, a little, when the child cradled its own hand as if injured.
“Amigo’s hand not hurt. No ouch. Enrico’s hand hurts,” Enrico said with a laugh at the serious expression on the child’s face.
“Amigo hurt Enrico?” the child asked, and Aldera moved back to sit on the lounge once more.
“Yes, Amigo hurt Enrico.” He relaxed as Aldera moved away. Relaxed, but he kept his finger on the trigger of the dart gun he wrapped into the palm of his injured hand with the cloth.
“Enrico hurt. Enrico blood. Taste? Taste?” the child begged and Enrico moved his hand out of reach with a frown directed at the child.
“No. No taste. You do not taste anyone you’re not going to eat.” He saw Aldera move forward in her chair. The child gave up its attempts to reach his hand after putting several new pinpricks into his arm.
“Pull your claws, Amigo. No taste Enrico. No taste Amigo. No taste Aldera. No taste people.” Enrico worked hard to keep his voice calm.
“No taste. Aldera?” the child turned and stared out of the glass at her.
“Aldera,” she echoed in agreement.
“Aldera hand. Aldera claws. Amigo hand claws. Enrico hand no claws.” Amigo offered her hand to Aldera again.
“That is right. Aldera and Amigo have claws on their hands. Enrico does not have claws. Aldera and Amigo are Sansheren. Enrico is human,” Aldera said and enunciated as she placed her hand against the glass.
“Hands,” and with that Amigo moved across the room and curled up into a ball in the corner.
Enrico shrugged to Aldera before he turned to leave the room.
“I would speak with you, tonight.”
Aldera’s voice held him for a moment, and Enrico opened the door and left.
#
“The risk was not necessary,” Aldera said from where she sat on the floor of Neavillii’s apartment.
“I had the gun ready; did you want me waving it in her face?” Enrico demanded from the kitchen as he finished piling one plate full of meats.
“It is customary that children be taught in a firm manner of the danger their reflexes pose to others. Yes, I would have you openly handle the dart gun.” Aldera met Enrico’s frown with an equally formidable expression.
“It does not offend the child if she does not know what it is for,” Yolunu offered as an interruption.
“I will not lie and I will not shoot if my life is not clearly in danger.” Enrico sat and placed his plate among the others on the floor.
“If your life is not clearly in danger? Do you think you would see the attack in time to respond? Your confidence is commendable, but foolhardy, my apprentice.” Neavillii followed him into the room and added a plate of dry fruit to the spread.
“I have told him it is much too soon to go into the nursery,” Aldera said as she passed a plate to the silent Thanera.
“And if I had not sped up the customary process of getting a child used to others? Would she still be alive?” Enrico challenged first Aldera and then the others present.
“I think not,” was Aldera’s reply.
“I would hope not,” Neavillii vehemently added.
“I have not met the child and so my opinion is not worth expressing,” Yolunu said while handing Neavillii a cup of wine.
“I have not met the child either, only… I myself left the nursery at just barely four years. I feel for this child. Enrico, my friend, I would be honored to be introduced to your child tomorrow during the lunch hour.” Thanera’s comments startled the room.
“My apprentice has piloting lessons scheduled for the entire day,” Neavillii said firmly.
“We could plan for two runs, and be back for the lunch hour.” Yolunu offered through a bite of food.
“That is not necessary. I am certain that the talented nursery staff can handle one small child tomorrow,” Neavillii said, and Enrico bristled at the warning look she gave Yolunu.
“As you wish, my patron,” Enrico said through clenched teeth after the silent exchange passed.
“Amigo will be introduced to a crèche of other children tomorrow. It is best that she not be disturbed,” Aldera offered.
#
“What happened?” Neavillii kept tight control of her voice as she stormed into the infirmary.
“The children refused to accept the child Amigo. Only the bravery and reflexes of the most beautiful Aldera saved its life.” The nursery medic bowed to first Neavillii and then Thanera.
“Is she okay?” Neavillii asked as she moved further into the room in search of the correct bed.
“The brave child Amigo refused to defend herself and thus suffered severe injuries. But they are no longer life threatening.” The nursery medic pointed at a bed on the far side of the room. A small, unidentified lump could be seen amid the tangle of tubes and wires.
“The child Amigo has been adopted by my apprentice and so I am honor bound to care for it. I am under no obligation to care about it. I was asking for the health of the valiant Aldera.” Neavillii spotted her target and left the confused medic standing with Thanera.
“I will visit the child,” Thanera said into the awkward silence before she moved away.
The medic paused in the doorway and then crossed to stand beside Aldera’s bed. “She is sleeping now; she suffered only a few injuries. The most notable was here,” she pointed out a long but shallow gash on the sleeping Aldera’s arm. “She should be on her feet tomorrow,” the medic finished.
“And the other children, how has this incident affected them?” Neavillii did not raise her eyes from Aldera’s face.
“They show no signs of distress. I think we were lucky, although I will not allow Amigo back into any crèche. The others agree with my decision.” The medic’s voice did not sound as confident as her words.
“That is understandable. Your performance has been exemplary; no one will question your decision.” Neavillii looked up and held the eye of the other.
“What of your apprentice? It is known that she has strong feelings of attachment to the child. Should we take care of the matter while she is not present?”
Neavillii glanced to the corner where Thanera was sitting.
“No. He has been hurt too much. I will tell you when, not before.” She punctuated her sentence by holding the medics gaze once more before moving to stand beside Thanera.
“What does she say?” Neavillii felt her hostility toward the child soften as she stared down at the small face.
So obviously in pain, the child kept whispering words.
“A human word, I don’t know it. She also asks for Aldera by name, and Enrico. When will he be here?” Thanera heard the faint accusation in her voice but could not call back her words.
“They landed even as I called you, he should be here soon. The word is for pain. Curious, she keeps saying it for Aldera, not herself.” Neavillii brought her
finger to the child’s face and stroked a small bare spot.
“Her concern for Aldera was noted when we cleared the room. Though she would not defend herself, Nogina has stated that the child bared her teeth and used a fallen dart gun in defense of the beautiful Aldera.” The medic shrugged, devaluing her own words.
“Indeed.” Neavillii looked from the child to the doorway of the infirmary. Running feet accented by the occasional clash of Enrico’s metal cane could be heard approaching.
“Where is he?” Enrico shoved the doors open.
“Your brave child is here, my friend.” Neavillii moved to give him room.
“You said Aldera was hurt, where is he?” he glanced at the bed before walking down the aisle toward the one bed that held an adult form.
“The lovely Aldera is sleeping off the effect of her injuries. She will be fine.” Neavillii walked in his direction, a frown growing on her face.
“It is my fault. I should’ve listened to him. I should’ve listened to you.” Enrico sat on the edge of Aldera’s bed and fought the tears that pressed against his eyelids. One tear escaped and trickled down his face.
“While it is always nice to hear an apprentice say such things, I would rather you believed to begin with. In this instance, it is I who should have listened.” Neavillii placed her hand on his shoulder.
“He could have died,” another tear escape when he turned to stare at Neavillii.
“She would have died were it not for your brave Amigo. The child would not defend herself but did defend Aldera.” Neavillii reached her free hand to his face and caught the third tear in the recess of a claw.
“He would not have been in danger if I had listened-“ his words were cut off by Neavillii’s claws pressed against his mouth.
“Do not say in despair what you’ll regret later. Aldera is fine. Your child needs you now. She worries after Aldera and needs to see your love.” Neavillii held her fingers close for a moment longer and then stood and held her hand to him. Enrico moved slowly as he accepted it, not bothering to wipe clear the blood that dripped from his cut lip.
“Maybe later, I do not think I can right now.” And he reached for his cane.
“Would you shame me so? Your child is injured, comfort it,” and she walked away.
#
“I told you to comfort it, not bring it home,” Neavillii said from the apartment doorway, and Enrico turned to see her staring warily at the small child that sat on the floor rolling the ball against a wall.
“I had no choice.” Enrico sat on the couch. He was unwashed, and the faintest hint of black chin hairs could be seen on his face.
Three days had passed since the nursery incident and he had spent his entire time floating from Aldera’s bed to Amigo’s. Aldera was up and around the next day as predicted, and Amigo healed far more rapidly than Enrico ever believed possible, short of a miracle. The medic’s lecture about clot factors and tissue death did nothing to dissuade him from what he knew was superstition.
“Indeed. I suppose the nursery would’ve been rather adamant about her removal. The empty room will serve. Place her within and go wash yourself, you stink.” Neavillii wrinkled her entire face in objection to the body odor that permeated the room.
“Stink,” Amigo added with an attempt to imitate Neavillii’s expression.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Amigo.” Enrico laughed as he pushed through his exhaustion to stand.
“Apestan,” the child repeated in Spanish before sneezing violently and then shaking its head.
“C’mon kid,” he said with a smile.
“No. Enrico stink.” The child scooted across the floor without standing until it was sitting at a wary Neavillii’s feet.
“You need to go into your room now.” Enrico did not move toward the two as he spoke.
“No sleep. Catch.” Amigo picked up her ball and gently threw it upwards so that it crested just above Neavillii’s head.
“Catch, huh? Go ahead, we will be fine.” Neavillii caught the ball as it started its descent and threw it across the room. Amigo moved in a blur that Enrico couldn’t follow, and caught the ball before it hit the floor.
#
“I have found some sobering news; I would ask your opinion as to whether I should lose it again?” Thanera asked by way of opening as she walked into Neavillii’s office.
“Indeed,” Neavillii said as an encouragement.
“Perhaps I should take my question to another,” Thanera reconsidered. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, my Lady.” Thanera turned and walked to the door.
“Hold. Come back and sit,” Neavillii said loud enough to stop her.
“I should not have brought this to your attention, my Lady. He is your apprentice, you would be honor bound to include his feelings in your opinion.” Thanera sat in the offered chair.
“If you will tell me the information, I promise to answer you first without considering my apprentice and second with emotion. You may choose which to accept.” Neavillii smiled as she leaned forward to offer Thanera a small candy from her desk.
“It is Amigo; in attempting to determine her age, I have found evidence of her birth line. Her mother is still alive,” Thanera said, and Neavillii frowned at the bad news.
“Indeed. And who is this parent that would leave her child behind during an evacuation? Was she so badly injured?” Neavillii took a piece of candy and collected her thoughts.
“No, she was not injured. It was Tadesde. Amigo is of Tadesde’s blood. Do we have to notify her?” Thanera gave Neavillii a desperate look.
“So it would seem. Tell me, who is responsible for the child’s creation?” Neavillii tried to find a solution to the dilemma she felt herself sliding into.
“The records show that Tadesde was hospitalized after she betrayed the peace talks with the mercenary Timone three years ago.” Thanera kept glancing up from the printouts she held to Neavillii.
“Indeed. Immediately after?” Neavillii allowed a slight smile to escape.
“Yes, the resuscitation team filed a paternity complaint against the mercenary Timone, only to have it rescinded by Tadesde,” Thanera said, and gave Neavillii a confused look with the hardcopy.
“Then, House politics aside, Timone could be considered the child’s father, would you not agree?” Neavillii’s smile grew at Thanera’s confusion.
“I… Yes, it could be said.” And she waited for Neavillii to reveal her thinking.
“Timone is the human Tim. Family to my most loved wife Morgan. Is it not totally unheard of for an apprentice to foster the child of a master’s beloved’s other wife?” Neavillii nodded her head to herself as she concluded her logic.
“Morganea is your wife and Timone is Morganea’s wife? And Enrico is your apprentice so he is only fostering Amigo? It is just politics,” Thanera stated with a frown.
“Was the child named?” Neavillii asked.
“Politics,” Thanera repeated. “But it is preferable to contacting a mother who did not care enough to evacuate her own unnamed child. Especially if that mother is Tadesde.” Thanera smiled sadly with a shrug as she finished piecing the entire idea together.
“I will correct the records. What will you tell Enrico?” Thanera asked.
“The truth.” Neavillii sat back in her chair with a new frown.
Chapter Eighteen - Wergol - 2012
“I’ll have whatever I had last night.” Morgan was the only customer at the bar, and only a few patrons occupied the tables throughout the tavern.
“Hair o’ the dog, coming right up.” Denise moved from the center of the counter where she was drying glasses and poured Morgan a half shot of whiskey.
Morgan downed the liquor without thought and then spent several seconds coughing. “It didn’t hurt last night. What do you have that’s a bit friendlier?” Morgan wiped moisture from her eyes as she spoke.
Denise was laughing bitterly. “You hurt last night, the whisky just made it bearable. Here, this is Demmes
ole. It’s made from flowers and is the choice of most of my Sansheren patrons.” Denise poured a delicate, stemmed glass full of a lavender colored wine.
“It smells wonderful,” Morgan sipped from the glass cautiously. “Lilacs!” Morgan made eye contact with Denise as the memories flooded back.
“I forgot,” Denise said, and Morgan thought it was an apology.
“There’s no reason for you to remember me.” Morgan stared at the wine as she twirled the glass between her fingers.
“You might have remembered if you hadn’t been in the sack with Timmy boy every time you came over,” Greg said from behind Morgan.
She didn’t look up as he sat beside her.
“The lilacs were in bloom, remember?” Morgan turned and held the wine glass to Greg.
“I would have been doing schoolwork if Tim hadn’t swept me off my feet.” Denise smiled, but they could see the edge of her self-control.
“I remember you looked beautiful with the lilacs in your hair,” Greg said to Morgan after smiling sadly in agreement to Denise.
“She’s beautiful now,” Denise said in a wistful voice.
“Tim once said you would be the kind of woman wars are fought over: god, he was right.” Greg reached out and ran a fingertip through an escaped strand of hair on the side of Morgan’s neck.
Morgan continued to look down at a glass of wine without moving.
“You had a crush on Tim, didn’t you?” Denise asked. She was pouring Greg a glass of beer and did not notice the blush that darkened Morgan’s face.
“Yes,” Morgan blurted out before gulping at the last of her wine.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” Denise said as she and Greg realized the state of Morgan’s current emotions.
“He got married. She worked here with Denise. Before we bought out Denise’s contract,” Greg said and took a long swallow from his own glass before continuing.
“That was ten years ago. Some Sansheren bought her for a party, to entertain Tadesde we heard.” Denise poured Morgan a second glass of wine and then slammed the bottle down in awkward anger before walking away, to serve another client.
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