*****
Luke wipes at the sweat on his brow, leaving a thick streak of dirt, as he continues digging a grave at the base of a thick oak. His muscles ache after two hours of endless digging and chopping at gnarled roots. Dirt covers his bare chest since his shirt has been turned into bandages that are wrapped around his swollen, blood-caked hands. He can still see specks of white on his dirty, exposed knuckles as he maintains a tight grip on the battered shovel. His mind begins to wander when he realizes that he isn’t sure if it is sweat or tears that drip off his chin. In truth, he could care less considering he is more worried about hungry scavengers coming after the box holding Stiletto’s remains. A few more minutes of furious digging is all that the shovel can take before it splinters in Luke’s hands. The sudden sound and sharp pain in his hands shock him into full awareness, but Luke can’t do anything more than stare at the shards of wood sticking in his numb palms.
“Not deep enough,” he hisses, using his teeth to pull out the biggest pieces. He picks up the head of the shovel and continues digging.
“Dig any further and I’ll be thinking you’re my cousin,” laughs a booming voice.
“Go away, Duggan. I want to be alone,” Luke states.
“I told you this was a waste of time,” whispers a second male voice, obviously younger and nervous. “Just give him the healing salve and let’s go back to the academy.
An urgent, female voice cuts through the air. “And I told the both of you that I didn’t need an escort. If you want to go back then do it. I’m staying whether you two or Luke like it or not. So, give me that package.”
“Arguing instead of leaving me alone is not helping my mood,” Luke snarls. He tries to start digging again only for the shovel to hit a large rock. The head splits down the middle and half of it falls away from what’s left of the handle. Luke grinds his teeth before trying to dig with his bare hands.
“This is pathetic. He’s already six feet down,” Duggan gruffly says. “Boy, grab him by the head and heave him out of there.”
“Yes, sir. Don’t hurt me for following orders, Luke,” requests the second male voice. “It’s just that Duggan scares me more than you.”
A large hand reaches into the hole, catching Luke by the face. He struggles weakly as he is pulled out of the grave and dropped on the soft grass. Luke tries to mask his anger at seeing Roland and Kira who are standing next to Duggan. The muscular Roland doesn’t try to hide his nervousness with his arms changing from crossed to dangling at his sides every few minutes. He is wearing his academy uniform as well as a pair of iron bracelets that have the number ten painted on them. He can only guess that the numbers reveal with how many pounds each bracelet weighs. Luke tries to pay more attention to Roland when he notices Kira staring at him with a look of fierce determination. Unlike her classmate, the heiress is wearing a fine shirt of ruby silk and breeches that are the finest leather. Luke can swear that he smells perfume wafting off her, but the stench of booze and smoke from the armored dwarf muffles all other odors.
“Why are you three here?” Luke angrily asks.
“We were worried about you and saw that your friends were busy. I . . . I mean, we thought you would want some company,” Kira answers with a shyness that doesn’t match the confident look in her emerald eyes.
“Be honest, girl,” Duggan kindly requests. “You live longer if you charge into the truth instead of tiptoeing around it.”
Kira blushes and looks away from Luke. “I’m not avoiding anything. It’s just that there is not much to explain aside from us worrying about him.”
“It’s too dangerous out here. That demon could come at us any moment,” Roland explains, rubbing his arms as if he is cold even though there is a warm breeze. “Look here, Luke. Kira saw you picking up the remains of your dog at the stables and talked me into helping her follow you. I don’t know why she wanted to do it, but she did and I was foolish enough to help. First, we went to the infirmary and took a pot of healing salve. Then, Kira had me take some rope from a utility shed for us to climb over the rear wall. It would have been easier to use a side door or sneak out the front, but she insisted on doing that. Anyway, we were almost over the wall when Duggan spotted us. We . . . persuaded him to go with us after a lengthy debate. By the time we finished all of that, you were long gone and it took us an hour to find you.”
“Traitorous bastard,” Kira mutters under her breath.
“How did they persuade you, old dwarf?” Luke bluntly asks.
“The girl promised me some ale from Bor’daruk. I ran out of that brew last semester,” Duggan claims with a glimmer in his eye. “Also, I was impressed that this boy could take a full beating from me and keep on his feet without crying.”
“Great story. Leave that healing salve on the ground and I’ll use it when I’m finished here,” the half-elf says. He walks over to the waist-high box of dark wood and attempts to carry it to the grave. Luke is barely able to lift the heavy box since his muscles are still strained from digging.
“Let me help you with that,” offers Roland who steps over to grab the box. Luke lashes out at the young man, connecting with a solid punch to his stomach. Roland grimaces more from shock than pain, but still moves away from the crazed half-elf. He is about to try and help Luke again when Duggan pulls him back.
“I think we’ve done enough here. He needs to be left alone,” the dwarf whispers, forcefully pushing Roland back to the academy.
Kira keeps her eyes on Luke and takes a seat on the grass. “I’m staying here. Thank you both for bringing me here, but I’m not ready to go back.”
“There is nothing you can do here, except watch the boy wallow in his grief and self-destruction,” Duggan mentions. Kira has already turned away from him, carefully watching Luke struggle with the box.
“She’s made up her mind. Best to let her be,” Roland says.
“Ah, to be young and foolish again. I’m surprised the young survive to my age anymore with such idiotic decisions,” Duggan admits as he walks away. “Don’t come crying to me if you get in trouble!”
Kira ignores Duggan and Roland as she stares blankly at the action in front of her. Luke manages to pick up the box only to move it a few inches and collapse against it. A few times he pushes the box along the ground, but his progress typically ends with a root catching the box and Luke flipping over it. The cycle of stubbornness continues for twenty minutes before Kira stands up. Luke is again on his back as she kneels beside him and opens the healing salve. The half-elf is about to protest when she rubs the cool medicine onto his skin and his burning aches melt away. He can barely feel her touch as she massages the salve along his arms, across his shoulders, and down his chest.
“Does this feel better?” Kira timidly asks.
“That tone of voice doesn’t suit you,” Luke groans as he gets to his feet.
“Being an angry, self-destructive jackass doesn’t suit you, so I guess neither of us are acting like ourselves,” Kira contends. With a twinge of pride, she watches Luke pick up the box with ease and carry it to the edge of the grave. He gently lowers it into the hole, but stays on his knees after he lets go.
“I found him at the base of a Zaria statue when I was eight,” Luke softly says, fresh tears flowing down his cheeks. “Stiletto was probably three months old, so it was easy to hide him in my jacket. It took my parents a month to figure out that I was only eating half of my meals and giving the rest to Stiletto who was hiding in my room. I’m surprised I was able to hide him for so long. He grew very quickly and my mom cleaned my room once a week, but she still didn’t find him for a while. She was so angry the day she found him under my bed with her favorite cloak as a blanket. I had to get my grandfather to help me convince my parents to let Stiletto stay. I’m glad they agreed to it because he was the first friend I ever had who didn’t judge me by my bloodline. Stiletto loved me for who I was and how I acted. He would follow me to the Chaos Void and back if I led him there.”
Kira
puts a gentle hand on his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I can tell that Stiletto wasn’t just a pet to you. He was your family.”
Luke reaches up to take her hand and move it away, but something stops him from letting go. Seconds feel like minutes as he silently holds Kira’s hand, staring into the open grave with a blank expression stuck on his face. The sound of hungry crows snaps him out of his trance and he scrambles to his feet. A small yelp forces him to look down and notice that he still has Kira by the wrist. Her arm is painfully twisted over her head while she desperately tries to avoid falling into the grave. Luke carefully relaxes her arm, pulling her away from the edge.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Luke claims as he lets go.
“Is this how a Callindor thanks people?” the heiress snaps, rubbing at her sore wrist.
“I said I was sorry. Besides, you didn’t have to take my hand in the first place,” the half-elf defiantly argues.
“Let’s get our stories straight here. You took my hand, which is why I’m the one with an aching wrist,” Kira says while she rolls up her sleeves. “Now, how about we cover Stiletto before those crows attack? Unless you want to continue being the depressed warrior who doesn’t need any help.”
“We don’t have any shovels, so we have to do this by hand,” Luke points out, expecting her to back down and leave him alone. “Your shirt is going to get ruined and your hands will get dirty. You should just back out of this and watch.”
“Well, my hands are already dirty from rubbing that salve on your mud-caked musc . . . bod . . . on you,” Kira states, showing him her slightly dirty palms. “Though, you are right about the shirt because it was expensive. Guess I don’t have a choice.”
Luke smiles victoriously until she reaches for the bottom of her shirt. “You can’t be serious!”
Kira reveals a simple white undershirt and places her silk shirt over a low branch. “Get your mind out of the mud. I’m wearing a cheap, academy-issued undershirt that I can easily afford to destroy. I’ve been wearing this thing ever since our little accident in class. Now, put your tongue back in and help me with this.”
Hours pass as the pair uses every method they can think of to fill in the grave. At first, they try to cup their hands and fling dirt into the hole. It isn’t long before Luke starts stiff-arming the piles of dirt that are close to the edge. Kira is the first to attempt the embarrassing tactic of throwing the dirt behind her like a dog. Unfortunately, she ends up sending more dirt onto Luke than into the grave. A few minutes of playful retaliation ensues before they decide to finish their work. By the end of the third hour, they have only covered half of the wooden box and their hands are throbbing in pain. Kira whimpers, fighting the urge to complain about the hard work. Luke can see the exhaustion in her eyes while she holds out the lower part of her shirt, filling the cloth bowl with dirt. He doesn’t even realize that he’s staring until she looks up and blushes. Turning away, Luke goes back to figuring out new and less strenuous ways to fill the grave. By the end of the fifth hour, they are done filling the grave and it only cost them one shirt, two pairs of boots, and most of their dignity.
“Not sure if it was a good idea to use our shoes to carry the dirt,” Kira gasps as she sprawls on the grass next to an equally exhausted Luke. A ladybug lands on her nose, but all the girl can do is helplessly twitch her face in hopes of scaring the insect off.
“We should be fine. Walking barefoot back to the academy will be fun. Besides, your undershirt would have been destroyed if you kept using it to carry the dirt. There’s already a hole showing off your bellybutton,” Luke says, glancing at her struggle against the stubborn ladybug. “Let me help you with that.” He puts his finger on her nose, letting the ladybug climb on. Before he can move his hand, Kira sneezes and sends the ladybug tumbling into the grass and out of sight.
The heiress sniffles. “Sorry.”
“Thanks for helping me today,” Luke says, wiping his finger on the grass.
“It was nothing,” Kira quickly blurts.
“You barely know me and yet you came to help. That’s a lot more than nothing,” Luke states with a gentle chuckle.
“Why won’t you say my name?” she asks.
“I’ve said your name,” Luke insists, his voice revealing a hint of doubt.
“You have never said my name. Not even during class,” Kira mentions. She groans as she rolls onto her side to look at Luke. She tries to look at his face, but is distracted by the smooth scar running diagonally across his torso. She finds herself wanting to run her hand along it like she did in the infirmary.
“I haven’t had a reason to,” the half-elf stubbornly claims.
“You’re lying,” Kira accuses him, a mild scowl on her face. “You could have said my name when you thanked me just now. Listen to me. I can say you’re names easily. Luke. Callindor. Luke Callindor. There. I said all three versions without any hesitation. Saying a person’s name is easier than you make it seem.”
“Showoff,” Luke snaps with a grin.
“Jerk.”
“Brat.”
“Deviant.”
“That’s a bigger word than I expected from you.”
“Bastard.”
“Bad kisser.”
Kira quickly sits up as she exclaims, “I am not! Oh, for the love of Nexus the Dreamer! I shouldn’t have moved like that. My body hurts. Anyway, I am not a bad kisser. You’re the one who needs to work on your technique.”
“Give me a break. You touch your lips to the other person’s lips,” Luke callously argues, making sure to avoid eye contact. “Kissing is not as complicated as girls make it out to be. It isn’t like we’re talking about how to kill a troll with a slingshot.”
Kira leans over Luke, placing her hands on both sides of his head and staring into his eyes. “Be honest with me, Luke. Did you like the kiss or not?”
“This doesn’t feel like the right place or time. I just buried Stiletto and-” Luke starts until a quick, dirty hand covers his mouth.
“In my homeland, this is the perfect time,” Kira states, her voice low and serious. “In the eyes of our deceased loved ones, we do not lie or hide our feelings. We honor them with our honesty by being true to ourselves. So, I request that you answer my question.”
“Well, in my homeland, we honor the dead with silence and mourning. I guess this puts us in a stalemate. Now, please let me up,” Luke requests. Kira starts to get up, letting her hands gently run along Luke’s arms. When she gets to his palms, she can feel his muscles twitch as if they are about to close around her hands. She briefly hesitates in anticipation, but Luke refuses to give in to what his body wants to do.
“I guess we know where we stand with each other,” Kira sadly mumbles.
“I guess so,” Luke agrees.
“Damn it. My bracelet fell off,” Kira whines.
She bends down to pick up the shiny bauble just as Luke begins to get to his feet. They are unable to avoid clunking their heads together, sending a dull thud echoing throughout the trees. Luke falls straight down while Kira tries to land on the soft grass instead of falling back onto the moist dirt of Stiletto’s grave. She pushes herself forward at the last second and tumbles toward Luke, feeling her lips gently graze his mouth. The tingling sensation is brief since her momentum takes her over Luke and sends her face first into a pile of unused dirt.
“That’s disgusting,” Kira mutters while spitting the dirt out of her mouth.
“Excuse me. Can you get your chest off my face?” Luke asks from beneath her.
“Gyah! Sorry. Very sorry. I didn’t mean to. Honest,” Kira rambles after she frantically pushes off Luke.
“At least they were soft,” Luke mumbles under his breath.
“What was that?” the heiress asks with a half-hearted glare.
“Sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“Don’t worry. I still love you.”
“Should I ignore that?”
Kira stares at him in horror before
scrambling to her feet. “Yes. It’s probably for the best since it just slipped out. You know, we both have so much going on in our lives that we’re very confused and people our age have such terrible control of our emotions. I should get going to where it is safe and you have a demon to slay. You don’t need the emotional ramblings of a foolish girl on your mind. Just, don’t mention this to anybody until we figure it out. Not that we have anything to figure out since it was obviously a slip of the tongue that meant nothing. It was probably the exhaustion talking or something I accidentally swallowed while shoveling dirt is making me hallucinate. Damn it. I’m making such a scene in front of Stiletto’s grave when it isn’t your people’s way. This isn’t right, so I’ll shut up now. First, I’ll apologize to Stiletto for this scene. Now, I’ll shut up.”
“We’ll talk about it later,” Luke promises, flashing her a half-smile.
“Fine. Now, I will . . . it’s getting dark out here. Maybe you should walk back with me as my escort,” Kira proposes when she looks out at the sunset.
Luke takes her by the hand, his smile growing. “Your word is my command, princess.”
“Not funny. Don’t hold my . . . well, for a little bit won’t hurt,” Kira says. She lets Luke lead her away from Stiletto’s grave without a word.
“I’m such an idiot,” Kira whispers under her breath.
*****
“I have been at this for an entire day and I still don’t know if I can do it,” Fritz admits as he sits in his immaculate room with piles of books spread about the floor. “The mechanics of such a spell usually take years to learn. I don’t see how I can make a moving, infallible illusion with only a few days to prepare. I don’t even know where to start. Are you listening to me, Aedyn?”
“I cannot possibly ignore you,” Aedyn states from a stool in the corner. He peers into a barrel that is filled with some type of odorless oil. “Now, while I must agree with you, I will admit that I have faith in your abilities. So, eat your breakfast.”
“From your mouth to the gods’ ears, literally and hopefully,” Fritz grumbles in frustration. He closes one book as he flips through another and places a dust-covered tome in front of him. “Please don’t move anything in this room. I keep everything in order, so I can find it in case of an emergency. Everything has its own special place. I might be an eccentric inventor, but I have some pride in my room being clean. Unlike a certain priest who doesn’t have to prepare for this trap.”
Beginning of a Hero (Legends of Windemere) Page 30