The New Fallen weren’t too tough and Jutmaek figured two to one would be good odds and three or four to one would be bad. As Jutmaek saw it, only if Truant’s people were used would the day be saved. That of course was if most of them didn’t immediately abandon the place. Jutmaek’s internal turmoil must have been poorly disguised for Talia noticed it and voiced her opinion.
“There might be another option you’re not considering,” said Talia.
“Hmm,” Jutmaek mumbled, still mostly inside his own head but with Talia speaking a sliver of it extended outward.
“Well, the New Fallen are still far away. They aren’t coming here on their own. They are being led here. Could we not use the same method and lead them away,” said Talia.
Jutmaek’s eyebrows rose, stunned that he hadn’t thought of it himself. He stood up.
“You’re right. Come on.”
From there, everything was straightforward. Jutmaek and Talia went to James and convinced him to sneak into the mass of New Fallen, talk with Dustin, and work with him to lead the other New Fallen away from Doraga safely. In return, James and Dustin would be permitted to stay. No more would they be left in the wilderness to fail in seclusion and slowly wither away. It may take time and Jutmaek wasn’t sure yet how he’d find the resources with the clan’s current state, but Jutmaek decided that in the future he’d try to make up for the mistakes of the past and try to take in and rehabilitate some of those pour souls.
James and Dustin were successful, Doraga didn’t fall that day. With Truant’s traitorous actions exposed, division within the clan fell away. But, they still had many problems to face. The weather was still bad and showed no sign of improving. Doraga was still failing and all Jutmaek could do was pray that his daughter would be successful and they would be saved. It wasn’t easy for Jutmaek to sit back and leave problems for others but if anyone could do it, Jutmaek believed she could.
Ch. 24: Approach
“Are you ready?” Bolevard asked.
“I think so. How do I look?” Sylph spun around so Bolevard could view her from every angle.
“Uhhh…” Bolevard gaped for a second, which caused Sylph to fall into a pleased fit of giggles. This was what she was going for.
“You look great,” Bolevard finally found his words. “But you could add a bit more color to your cheeks. The people here might be pale, but they aren’t white.”
It’d been a week since the run in with the old hunter and Bolevard’s successful convincing of the need to explore this world. It had taken a few days to find an appropriate settlement to visit. Too small of a town and everyone in it would know each other, making them stand out, but on the other hand, the larger the town the more likely it was to have ties to the central authority which had arrested and imprisoned both of them.
With a population of around ten thousand, Bolevard and Sylph settled on the town of Placerville. They spent a few more days, spying on what they could from the edge of the forest, until they were confident they were ready.
Obviously if they wanted to blend in, Sylph couldn’t go looking as she did, so she cast an illusion to make herself appear different. This removed the green from her skin and the points from her ears and replaced the orange prison jumpsuit with a simple pale green dress. As an elf, Sylph was both short and lean, but it was nothing inhuman so she was able to retain her basic body shape, which was fortunate. It would have been difficult to physically interact with anyone otherwise. She also kept her green hair. From their reconnaissance, they knew that most people had ordinary Xebryan hair colors but a few had strange colors, anything from neon blue to hot pink, so she figured it’d be safe to keep her green hair.
Sylph closed her eyes and wiggled her nose. Her skin sort of rippled as a new illusion replaced the old, adding a bit more pink to her skin tone.
“Better?” Sylph asked.
“Yes, now do me… I mean cast an illusion over me,” he added, realizing the implied undertones of his first statement Bolevard secretly agreed with.
“Sure?” said Sylph not fully understanding what was going on. Elves didn’t have hidden secondary meanings in their language, which was quite forthright. But, the interface tended to not translate literally but based on intentions.
Although Bolevard didn’t need to change his personal appearance to blend in, orange jumpsuits with bold serial numbers printed on the front and back didn’t seem like a fashion trend and they couldn’t be sure any of their images hadn’t been circulated to the public. They both agreed it was best to give Bolevard a magical makeover as well.
Sylph grasped either side of Bolevard’s head and pulled it down towards her. When their lips met, Bolevard felt a spark of electricity that washed over his entire body, but he’d been so caught up in other aspects of the moment that he’d barely felt it.
“Thanks, I know you were doing that only because it was necessary,” said Bolevard as he got a hold of himself. The spark he felt wasn’t all in his head but contained a physical presence as Sylph cast a spell over him as well.
“Yes, it was completely necessary,” said Sylph, glad she had an illusion covering her so Bolevard couldn’t see her blush.
Bolevard used a puddle of water to look himself. A white T-shirt and jeans, standard wear for the people of this world or at least this part of it, replaced an orange jumpsuit and Bolevard’s face changed. His black hair had been turned blond, his dark eyes were turned blue, and his wide strong chin was made more pointed. Bolevard understood the need for the change, but he couldn’t help but think, ‘Would she prefer I look this way?’
“All good?” Sylph asked.
“Yes, we’d better get going,” said Bolevard as he offered Sylph an arm. She gladly accepted it and pulled him close as they quietly walked together into the city. The two noticed many of the people in Placerville appeared to be travelers simply passing through and viewing the sights so to best blend in the two of them decided to pose as a couple visiting. This would help explain their unfamiliar appearance and any strange questions they might ask the residents while they were visiting.
Bolevard and Sylph entered town around midday. There’d be more eyes that may spot them leaving the forest then but if anyone did see, it would be a lot easier to explain too. See a young couple walking out of the forest in the middle of the day and you think, ‘Oh, they must be coming back from a morning nature walk.’ See the same thing in the middle of the night and you think, ‘Someone’s up to no good. I wonder which one is the murderer and which one is simply helping dispose of the body.’
Of course, none of that turned out to be a problem. Neither saw anyone as they made their way onto the nearest sidewalk. In fact, two blocks down they still hadn’t seen anyone.
“It’s strange how deserted it is, isn’t it? There were always people up and about by this hour,” said Bolevard.
“I’ve been thinking the same thing, but maybe it’s just a holiday or some sort of regular rest day. We only scouted for a few days,” said Sylph.
‘Or maybe someone spotted us ahead of time and cleared everyone out as they prepared to recapture us,’ a part of Bolevard wanted to say, but he did his best to silence that part. If it was correct, there was nothing either of them could do about it. All voicing his concern would do was worry Sylph and Bolevard couldn’t be the one to bring a frown to that face.
“Hey look, there are a few people in there,” said Sylph, pointing to one building that had a sign out front that read: Angie’s Diner. Sure enough, Bolevard could see a few souls through the restaurant’s large windows.
“Let’s go in and take a look,” said Bolevard. The restaurant was on their list of good places to visit anyway. There were generally a decent number of people and hence conversations they could listen in on to and get a lay of the land without drawing the least suspicion. Everyone needs to eat and regardless of where you go, interactions with restaurant staff are pretty much the same everywhere.
For once, Bolevard was glad he was a bit o
f hoarder, probably a side effect of growing up poor, hell, of still being poor. It was the only reason they had money to pay with. Among the hunter’s things had been a wallet filled with slips of paper. Being from Xebrya, which used coins made of semi-precious metals, Bolevard hadn’t recognized the slips of paper as currency until he’d watched the town and saw people trade with them. Now they could buy lunch and maybe a few more things to make life easier.
As Bolevard and Sylph walked through the door, a little bell chimed to announce their entry. The diner was almost entirely empty, which was strange for lunchtime. There was an old man seated in a back booth, taking sips from a cup of coffee as he stared out the window, apparently at nothing as the town was still. And there was a pair of employees, a homely waitress in her early 60’s with unnaturally dark hair that she thought convinced people she was ten years younger and a young Hispanic cook in a white apron and hairnet despite the fact that his head was clean shaven.
When Bolevard and Sylph first walked in, both employees were too preoccupied to notice the chime of the bell. Both had their eyes glued to the television hanging on one wall. Bolevard and Sylph marveled at the device, having seen nothing like it before. On screen was a pair of news anchors at a desk. Below them was a banner that read: 12 Bodies Found in San Diego Basement.
“The bodies all had their throats slit and although the police are still having trouble identifying the victims, signs indicate all were undocumented immigrants and the case is being treated as a xenophobic hate crime. The residence in question had been unoccupied for the last 6 months, after its owner died at the age of 87. Currently the police are asking for the cooperation of the public. If anyone watching this saw anyone enter or exit the premises in question during the past few months, please call this number,” said the male news anchor.
“As sad as this story is, it is just the latest case in the ongoing refugee crisis that has resulted in an estimated ten thousand deaths near the US –Mexico border. Upon hearing about this case the president said quote, ‘This is a very bad… very sad…bad… awful… terrible…’ I’m sorry, I can’t… Can we just roll a clip? I’m sure we have it on video. Can we just do that please, I’m sorry,” said the second news anchor. She grabbed a glass of water and drank from it. The broadcast went oddly still and silent for about fifteen seconds as someone behind the scenes found the appropriate clip and started it up.
“This is a very bad… very sad… bad awful terrible situation,” the president began. He was standing behind a podium in a room full of reporters. “I’ve seen the images and they’re just very bad. I mean, I don’t think anyone can find words so if this isn’t coming out right it’s not my fault. I mean it’s just all bad. And I think if anything this whole situation, and by that I mean this whole refugee situation not just this particular… situation, proves that I’ve been right all along. We need to build a big beautiful wall along our southern border that will keep away all the bad stuff. And I mean all the bad stuff. It’ll keep away all the crime and all the drugs and all the bad people. Which is especially important in these hard times where the American people can’t afford to bear the costs of the world. It’s a sad thing but that’s what I think people should take away from this sad thing.”
The clip ended and the television returned to the two news anchors.
“And that’s the point of view of the president,” the second news anchor summed up.
“Now to today’s top story,” the first news anchor took over. “In international news, the latest talks between India and Pakistan have collapsed as India reasserted its right to do whatever construction projects it wishes within its own territory. The Pakistani President responded less than an hour later.”
The video shifted to another clip, this time with a middle-aged Middle Eastern man speaking before the UN. The man spoke in his native tongue, but it was dubbed over in English.
“The insidious actions of the rogue Indian state breaks prior legal agreements between our two nations, generates several humanitarian issues, and threatens to negate the purpose of this esteemed body. To that end my government wishes to remind India that whatever you build can be even more easily knocked down.”
The television returned to the news anchors.
“After these comments, India expelled all Pakistani diplomats from the country. Pakistan did the same shortly thereafter. Experts say that while India-Pakistan relations may have had rough patches over the years, it hasn’t been this bad since Pakistan’s original founding in 1947…”
As the television ran, Bolevard and Sylph slowly drew closer to it to get a better view. Eventually, they were right beside the waitress and cook. It was only then that they were noticed.
“Oh, a customer. Sorry I didn’t hear you come in,” said the waitress. The nametag pinned to her chest said Angie, as in Angie’s Diner. This was her place.
“Doesn’t seem like there’s very many people here today,” said Sylph conversationally.
“Yes, well. There’s just old Herb, right now, but he’s here every day. This town is mostly for tourists and I’m afraid they’ve all been scared away for a little bit because of the coming storm. Most everything is closed. I was thinking about closing today as well but… old habits. I haven’t been closed a single day the last 23 years, I’m not about to end the streak without a fight,” said Angie.
“Storm?” Isaac asked, glancing out the window to the sky. There wasn’t a cloud in sight.
“You haven’t heard…,” Angie frowned. “Well I guess that’s no surprise either. Both of you have been so enamored and entangled with one another. I guess it’s only fortunate you came up for a bit of air.”
Bolevard opened his mouth, which Angie took to be an attempt as some form of denial. She would have been correct.
“There’s no use in trying to hide it. Just because I’ve put on a few years doesn’t mean I don’t know what young love is like,” said Angie. “As for the storm there are four hurricanes heading for the US right now. Two are in the gulf and one is riding up the eastern seaboard. I guess that’s relatively normal except it’s happening all at once. But, that’s pretty far from here. The real problem is the fourth one that’s headed smack dab into California. Who ever heard of a hurricane hitting California? Sometimes I think god’s gone a bit crazy these past couple years.”
Bolevard and Sylph nodded in general agreement though they only understood about half of what Angie was saying. They weren’t familiar with the names of most of the places.
“So what are the two of you here for? I never forget a face and haven’t seen you two here before so I assume you’re from out of town,” said Angie.
“Yes, we’re from the eastern seaboard,” said Bolevard, copying something that Angie said earlier. He didn’t know where that was but from the conversation, it sounded far away.
“Really, what part?” Angie asked, setting both of them on edge. Fortunately, the chatty woman couldn’t help but keep talking. “Let me guess Florida or Georgia, both of you look a little tan. But I didn’t hear much of an accent so maybe somewhere a bit further north, like Maryland.”
“Maryland,” said Bolevard.
“Florida,” said Sylph at the same time.
“I’m from Maryland and she’s from Florida,” said Bolevard, trying to correct the mistake without even knowing if what he said even made sense.
“Ahh, long distance relationships are hard. I’ve never had much luck with them, but don’t worry I have an excellent eye for these things and you two are going to make it,” said Angie.
Both Bolevard and Sylph gave each other a nervous look. Both were wondering if this woman’s extremely personal interaction was typical of everyone in this world.
“Were pretty far inland so they say the wind won’t get too bad, I hope that you have someplace good to stay before it hits tonight,” Angie continued.
“We’re staying at my uncle’s cabin. It looks pretty tough I’m sure we’ll be fine,” said Sylph.
; “Really what’s his name? Maybe I know him, and his cabin,” said Angie, making Bolevard start to regret bumping into this woman despite the plethora of information they were gathering.
“His name is… Rod Sharp,” said Bolevard, just making something up. The name was less inappropriate in his language.
“Hmmm, don’t know any Sharp,” said Angie.
“That’s not surprising. It’s a sort of a second home. My uncle rarely uses it,” said Sylph.
“Ahh, that explains it,” said Angie as if she knew everyone in this town of several thousand people. “Well I’m just glad you have somewhere safe. Do you have any supplies stocked up? Just in case, things get gnarly for a few days. I know Karl the town’s main grocer is planning to close at two.”
“We have enough,” said Sylph. “Though we were hoping for something a bit more immediate.”
“Oh,” Angie laughed. “And here I go looking like some untrained newbie. Of course.”
Angie reached behind a nearby counter and pulled out a couple menus.
“Right this way.” Angie led them to a booth. Sylph and Bolevard sat across from one another. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order.”
Angie sauntered back to the television. There, she shooed away the cook to heat up the stove. She remained behind to continue watching.
“At least we got some information, though I’m not sure yet what to make of it,” said Bolevard.
“Yes, though I don’t think we will have much more luck today,” said Sylph. With the storm coming, going around town would draw too much attention. It was better to wait until all the people came back.
“So, I guess there’s only one thing to do,” said Bolevard.
“What?” Sylph asked.
“Figure out what the hell, rancher’s eggs are,” said Bolevard, the interface having automatically translated the Spanish on the menu, huevos rancheros. “Do you think that ranchers are the ones here who lay eggs?”
The Ice Lands Page 34