by Adam Dreece
“I hope so,” she replied, closing the door.
She turned and stared at the door a couple of yards down the corridor. She could just feel the tension emanating from the room she was sharing with Elly. Part of her wanted to walk out the front door and head home. She slid her feet along the floor until she came to the door and slowly opened it.
Tee was relieved to see that the oil lamp on the nightstand between her and Elly’s beds was turned way down, and Elly was rolled over, facing the wall. She listened intently for moment, and heard Elly’s breathing rise and fall rhythmically.
She closed the door and changed into one of the long nightshirts the innkeeper’s wife had provided them. Hoping that tonight would be free of dreams, Tee climbed into bed.
As she tried to drift off in the comforting glow of the light, Tee kept jolting awake as she did every night, with images of the arrow going through Pierre’s chest and him lying on the ground, his life slipping away. She wished she had her mother and father to hold her, to have their parental warmth wash away all the wrongs of the world.
She thought of all the recent lessons with her father and mother about the history of the Tub, the Fare, and the purpose of Minette, along with a million other secrets and responsibilities that had made her feel like she was drowning as they poured on her shoulders. She’d argued intensely to be allowed to share some of it with Elly, until her parents finally told her why she couldn’t. That night, she’d cried herself to sleep.
With a big sigh, Tee rolled over to turn off the light and found Elly glaring at her, her blankets pulled up to her chin.
“I can’t take it anymore,” said Elly, her voice trembling. “I don’t know who you are, I don’t know where my parents are, and I have no real idea where we are going.”
Tee felt cornered, and lowered her gaze. She started to roll back towards the wall when Elly yelled, “I can’t take this! Don’t turn away from me!”
Tee took in a big breath. Her face was drained, as if her soul had been leaking out since the beginning of the journey. She forced her gaze up to meet Elly’s. It pained Tee to see her best friend’s chin trembling.
“You’re supposed to be my best friend,” said Elly, a few tears escaping.
“I am,” said Tee flatly, mentally applying all of her strength to keeping the cork on her bottled emotions. “I—”
“I nothing,” said Elly, sitting up and bringing her legs in so she could hug them. “You’ve been lying to me—”
Tee’s eyes flared and she sat up as well. “Lying? You have no idea what’s been going on. I have not been lying to you.”
“Then tell me!” yelled Elly.
Tee’s jaw inched forward while she thought of how to answer. “I can’t!” she said, gesturing wildly as she stood. “I can’t! I’m not allowed!”
“What are you talking about?” asked Elly, standing to look at Tee eye to eye. “Where do you go in the early morning when you think I’m asleep?”
Tee felt betrayed by the remark. Not by Elly, but by her own sloppiness. “Everything. Everything has to be a secret, and I have to protect everyone! You just have to accept that!”
Elly threw her hands up. “Why? Why do I have to accept that?”
“Because that’s all I’m allowed to do,” said Tee, tears streaming down her flushed face. “And if you’re my best friend, then you need to accept that, too! I don’t have a choice.”
Elly backed off for a second, returning to sit on her bed. Tee copied her. “I miss Pierre too, you know,” said Elly, fishing for what was at the root of everything.
“That’s not what this is even about,” said Tee, deflated, hanging her head. “It just makes everything ten times worse.”
There was a knock at the door. “Is everything okay in there?” asked the innkeeper’s wife.
“Yes,” replied the girls in unison.
“Okay, well…” said the woman, wondering what to say. “Try to keep it down.”
“We will,” replied Elly, glancing at the door.
Tee stared at the oil lamp’s flame, trapped in its clear, curved glass cage. For all of the size and grandeur of the glass, it was unable to protect the flame from being tossed about by the wind of the outside world.
Elly felt lost seeing the distant, brooding expression on Tee’s face as Tee watched the flame. After several minutes, Elly started to cry again.
At first, she thought it was out of a sense of betrayal, and then out of a sense of loss of their friendship, but finally Elly realized it was because she felt helpless to ease the burden that was crushing Tee.
Elly thought of one of her mother’s favorite phrases: I will protect you however I must, even if that means protecting you from you, when I need to. A soft, sad smile emerged.
Lost in thought for a long time, Tee came to a thought she couldn’t escape. When she finally looked away from the flame, she noticed Elly was sleeping sitting up in her bed, leaning against the wall.
“Elly,” whispered Tee. Elly didn’t stir. Tee furrowed her brow and returned her gaze to the lamp, questioning her decision. Was she just fooling herself into thinking that what she was going to do was okay?
Tee let go of her cradled legs and stretched them out. She stared at the flame a little longer, gathering some confidence. Planting her hands on the edge of the bed, she said, “Elly.”
Elly’s eyes fluttered open. “Yeah?”
Tee lowered her gaze to the ground and took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Your last name is DeBoeuf.”
Elly’s face wrinkled as she pushed the sleep away. “No, it’s not,” she replied groggily.
Tee turned to the flame. “Your last name is DeBoeuf.”
Elly thought for a moment. There was a weight to how Tee was saying it that Elly couldn’t dismiss. She was awake enough now to know that it was impossible for Tee to be making a mistake. “What are you talking about?”
Tee chewed on her lip before meeting Elly’s gaze. Elly was surprised to see none of the defenses that had been there earlier. Despite the black eye and emotional wreckage she could see in Tee’s face, there was a drive and determination in Tee’s eyes that filled Elly with hope.
“Your mother’s real name is DeBoeuf, not Oeuf,” said Tee, knowing that her parents wouldn’t approve, but thinking that somehow, her Grandpapa would.
Elly shook her head incessantly. “No, no, that doesn’t make any sense. We both know when a couple marries, the stronger of the family names becomes the couple’s new last name. My dad’s last name is Plante. Plante versus DeBoeuf would have been a no-brainer.”
Tee stood up and sat beside Elly. She took Elly’s hand and stared into her eyes. “Elly, your last name really is DeBoeuf.”
Elly studied Tee’s conviction, then how Tee was holding her hand. It reminded her of when Tee had learned of the death of Elly’s dog, Chichi, and had sat Elly down to tell her before anyone else could.
She bounced her gaze around the room, her brow furrowed in a mix of emotion. “Why would my parents lie like that?” she asked slowly.
Tee let go of Elly’s hand and leaned against the wall alongside her. She stared at the flame. She knew she had to be careful with what she shared, but felt there was another piece that Elly deserved to know. That Tee needed her to know. “Your mother’s mother is alive.”
Elly stared at the flame, too, soaking it all in. “So… Madame DeBoeuf of the Tub is my grandmother?”
Tee nodded gently. “You’re more connected to the Tub than I am.”
They sat there, staring at the flame in silence, each wondering about similar things.
“Did you have to betray someone to tell me that?” asked Elly.
Tee stared at the ground and shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it right now. Okay?”
Elly wasn’t sure what to make of everything. She watched Tee as she crawled back into her bed. She kept wondering why she hadn’t given her best friend a hug for sharing, why things still felt somewhat weird
.
As Elly drifted off to sleep, she dreamt of her mother telling her, as she had many times, that noble deeds always came at a price.
As the door opened and Tee stepped through with the early morning light behind her, Franklin had a smug grin on his face. He was sitting on a chair, enjoying a cup of tea at the large oak table, with two fresh pieces of jam-covered toast on his plate.
“Planning on sneaking upstairs so you can pretend to wake up when Elly–” Franklin stopped as he saw Elly come up behind Tee. “Hmm.”
Tee gave Franklin a fake smile and nabbed a piece of toast from his plate.
“My toast!” said Franklin, scrambling to get it back from Tee, but she dodged him easily.
“This? This is just bread,” said Tee.
Elly closed the inn door and smirked at Franklin, who was shaking his head as Tee headed upstairs to wash.
“You guys were loud for a bit last night. What happened?” he asked, leaning forward. He could tell by the expression on Elly’s face that while the gulf between them had shrunk, something was still there.
Elly glanced at the stairs, and then back to Franklin. “Tee had a nightmare. A nasty one,” she said, smiling.
“A nightmare?” repeated Franklin in disbelief.
Elly nodded, her eyes going wide. “Yup. Tee dreamt you tried to kiss her.” Elly made an ick face.
“Very funny,” said Franklin, crossing his arms.
“Horrifying, really,” said Elly, nabbing the other piece of toast and heading up the stairs.
Franklin growled. “Fine then! I’m going out for a walk. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Knock yourself out,” said Elly. “Please.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Karm'ing Home
“Just over this next hill,” yelled Christina to Mounira as the King’s-Horse raced over the grassy plains. Even though they’d been riding the entire day, the ride kept having new thrilling moments.
They’d stopped three times to rest and check how the King’s-Horse was doing. On the first stop, Mounira watched Christina do the diagnostics and tighten some of the belts and bolts. By the third time, Mounira was the one doing it, and Christina smiled with pride and took the time to answer questions until she’d completely exhausted her patience.
“What’s that?” yelled Mounira as a ruined castle came into view.
Christina tilted her feet backward, slowing the King’s-Horse down. “Welcome to my home. This was once the castle of the great city of Karm. Now, it’s just Karm, a place long-forgotten.”
“Are we in Belnia? I noticed we turned south when we bolted past that second border patrol,” said Mounira, remembering the excitement.
Christina chuckled. “That was a bit fun, wasn’t it? We’re in the kingdom of Myke. It’s quite different than its neighbors, but it’s home.”
Only the ruined castle remained to rise above the grassy plains of what had once been Karm. At the fringes were old forests. It gave the castle a haunted appearance.
“It looks like a giant came along and kicked down the front wall, then hit the towers with a tree. How long ago did this get smashed?” asked Mounira.
Christina brought the mechanical horse to a trot. “That battle was probably three hundred years ago or so.”
“You live in a ruined castle in the middle of nowhere? There aren’t even any roads to here,” said Mounira, remembering the route they’d taken.
“Would you search here for a group of illegal inventors, scientists, and engineers?”
“No,” said Mounira, shaking her head as she looked about.
“Exactly,” said Christina, dismounting. She opened the King’s-Horse’s mouth and held the trigger, allowing her to pull it forward.
Mounira sniffed. There was a burned metallic scent in the air. “What’s that smell?”
Christina stopped and sniffed the air, then touched the heart-panel, confirming her fear. It was red-hot. “Yig, I think we may have fried the engine.” She smiled at Mounira. “You don’t know what that means, do you?”
Mounira wore a cheeky expression. “Yig? No. But you seem guilty, so I’m going to think it’s a swear.”
Christina shook her head. “No, not at all. It’s, um—”
“You know, you’re a bad liar,” said Mounira. Christina went to help her off the King’s-Hors. Mounira pulled away and acrobatically dismounted. “La la!”
“Only when I want to be,” replied Christina with a half-smile. She then put her fingers to her lips and gave a shrill whistle.
Mounira tried to cover her ears, realizing for the first time that she couldn’t with only one arm.
From behind overgrown shrubbery and huge stones fallen from the crumbling castle walls appeared a dozen warriors, armed with crossbows and rifles.
“Mounira, I’d like you to meet my… family,” said Christina, not sure how to put it in Frelish.
“Family? I suppose,” said a towering, bald man with a chest like a tree trunk. The pointy orange beard at the end of his chin made it look like his fierce face shot fire. “I’m Remy Silskin,” he said, bending down on one knee and holding out his hand, palm up, towards the petite Mounira.
Mounira looked at Christina and then at him. There was a look between the two adults that told her they had some bond, but she didn’t recognize it. “Um, I’m Mounira of Catalina of Augusto.” She studied Remy’s hand and wondered. Shrugging, she pointed at it and said, “I don’t know what that means.”
“Oh,” said Remy, smiling and glancing up at Christina. “My palm is facing up, meaning I have nothing to hide, and my fingers are apart, meaning that I am half of the greeting. You complete the greeting.”
Mounira smiled and burrowed her brown. She’d never heard of such a thing. “Where I come from, I’d usually slap it or shake it.”
“Slap it?” said one of the women with a crossbow, shocked. “That’d get you shot around here, little lady.”
Remy shook his tattooed head. In the blink of an eye, his fierce green eyes transformed into the gentlest Mounira had seen. “Don’t mind Angelina. She’s wary of strangers.”
“You’re all strange to me,” Angelina replied, chuckling.
Mounira put her hand palm down on Remy’s, and spread her fingers. Gently Remy curled his fingers up, locking them together, and they shook gently before he released her grip.
“You pick up things fast,” said Christina as she slung her backpack over her shoulder and re-closed the saddlebags.
Turning to Angelina and the others, Christina asked, “Can you get this King’s-Horse downstairs? Canny and Sonya are going to have a field day with it if the MCM isn’t melted. Also, I left something special for them.”
“MCM?” asked Remy, staring at the mechanical horse in shock.
“Mercury-copper-magnetic engine,” said Mounira proudly. “It’s really got some kick to it!”
Remy frowned at Mounira and then Christina. “You found one?”
Christina smiled. “Actually, I found two. The other isn’t even sealed. I left it in a saddlebag.”
Mounira watched Christina. It was almost as if she was a different person. The hardness that had inhabited her face and speech was missing here. Mounira could tell that Christina was among her family.
“That’s… unbelievable,” replied Remy. Christina leaned over and gave Remy a kiss on the cheek. He nodded in appreciation. Mounira again detected something, but wasn’t sure what it was; it was something she’d not run into before. There was no romance, almost as if they were two magnets that pulled in opposite directions, but still had a bond.
Remy’s high-cheekboned face went solemn. “You heard about the palace?”
“That they were bombed from the air, yes. That’s why we rushed back,” said Christina, very businesslike.
He turned to Mounira, thinking. “I mean no disrespect, little lady, but Christina—why did you bring her here?”
Christina paused, not ready to share why, particularly with that audienc
e. “She’s by herself, she’s smart, and she reminds me of a young Luis.” Everyone stopped and stared at Mounira.
“Because she’s a Southerner?” asked a male voice in the background.
“No,” snapped Christina, “because she’s got that spark. She helped me assemble this rocket-cart that we flew off a cliff and used to save some friends.”
“She did that?” said Remy, rubbing his chin. “Well, Little Luis, welcome.”
“She has done more than that, but let’s not get into it,” said Christina.
Mounira saw the heads bob in acceptance, bringing a big smile to her face.
“Well,” said Remy, putting his hand on Mounira’s shoulder, “if you’re going to follow in Luis’ shoes, you’re going to need bigger feet.”
“Are you Christina’s husband?” Mounira asked, stunning everyone and making Angelina burst into laughter.
“I love this kid!” said Angelina, doubling over.
“Ah…” said Remy, glancing at Christina, confused.
Christina rubbed her forehead. “She asks a lot of questions.”
“Can I keep her?” asked Angelina.
Christina watched the members of her various teams stream into the grand hall. It had been a very busy twenty-four hours since she’d returned, and she was anxious to get the all-hands meeting over with. If she was lucky, she’d be able to catch up on some sleep before they had to leave in a few days.
Christina smiled as Mounira came into the room with Remy. Her avowed protector and her sidekick, together. It made her smile deeply for a moment. Her thoughts then turned to Tee. Christina hoped she’d judged the girl correctly, and that she’d find some way to get to Costello safely. It had been a calculated risk—one that, if it went wrong, would have far graver consequences than her personal feelings of guilt.
Christina waved to people she hadn’t seen in months. It was strange. They lived in the equivalent of a small town, yet despite there only being two hundred of them, there were some people she didn’t see regularly.
She’d given a lot of speeches in the grand hall over the years—some of them uplifting, some of them chilling. All of them had brought her group together more tightly.