Deliverance smiled at his wit and they hurried back to Jack’s parked…car. Driving back in the daylight was eye opening. Lontown was whirring with activity on the ground, in the sky, and on the water. The only stagnancy was in the stately architecture and looming towers, providing constant in all that action.
Jack and Eleanor’s manor—which he referred to curiously like a human, with the name Hathaway—was even more resplendent in the sunlight. Creeping, luscious vines snaked along brownstone terraces and multi-paned windows reflected the brightness of day. The buttresses and lines of the imposing house were softened by the healthy primrose bushes blossoming about the grounds and the trickle of garden fountains.
Jack pulled the car around the side but did not park it in the garage. Instead he tossed the keys to a teenage-looking boy in the bricked driveway and gave him some instructions about oil changes? Perhaps cars needed their nappies changed like babies, Deliverance pondered.
“It’s a glorious morning and I’m ravenous for breakfast!” Jack said to her cheerfully as they entered through the main doorway. “We’re back in time that Mrs. Potter should not be too peeved.”
His gay, carefree smile, however, rapidly slid from his brow as he spotted two figures loitering in the foyer.
CHAPTER 13
Deliverance
“Damn, we should have come in the side entrance. At least then we’d have had some warning…maybe we can still sneak away,” Jack whispered, grabbing Deliverance by the arm and attempting to steal away before they were noticed.
“Jack!” A decidedly shrill female voice broke across the space. “Dear Cousin Jack! Is that you? It is!”
“Damn damn damn damn,” Jack swore under his breath, then plastered on a broad ostentatious smile and spun around to meet the two figures. “Aunt Claude. Cousin Caroline. How…unexpected to see you.”
Jack gave the two women pecks on each of their cheeks in obligation after closing the distance. They were a younger and an older version, one just a tad greyer and more wrinkled than the other. They were trussed up in layers of rustling skirts, with buttons and lace in intricate patterns. Each had pristine kidskin gloves lined with careful buttons and a fluted, folded parasol, in one hand. Deliverance could see some family resemblance in the brown eyes and dark hair, but these women were not blessed with Eleanor and Jack’s graceful cheekbones. Their faces looked pinched, awkwardly nosed, and perhaps a tad anemic. While Jack’s hair was lively and shiny, both of these women had frizzy curls teased into elaborate styles, which looked heavy and uncomfortable.
“Yes, I suppose it would be,” the elder said, drawly sniffing, “since you never call or write.”
“I was traveling, Aunt. You know I must often for work,” Jack answered. Deliverance noticed he did not invite them in for tea or to sit and chat. He merely talked with them in the hall. She wondered if that was rude in Arcanton or normal.
“Well, we were going to come over to discuss with you an overture on the part of Senator Ribald, but your other news must simply take president!” exclaimed the younger—Caroline, Deliverance assumed. Both sets of beady eyes zeroed in on her like birds of prey. They stared at her expectantly. She stared back.
“Oh…um. Yes. Aunt Claude, Cousin Caroline, this is Deliverance…my fiancée. Deliverance, this is my lovely Aunt Claude and her even lovelier daughter, Caroline…Great, now that that is out of the way, there’s a lot to do before the Senate session so you’d best be off. Love to you,” Jack said and attempted to rush them out the door.
“Jack Quentin!” Aunt Claude chastised him. “Do not be base!” Jack deflated as his aunt built ballast. “The last we heard from you, you were single and the most eligible of Arcanton were waiting expectantly to see who you might take a fancy to…and now you’ve just come back from a trip and…well this! A fiancée! From the Southlands of all places! Really, Jack!” The elder tut-tutted like a cranky hen.
“Everyone at the club was really quite put out, Jack.” Caroline sniffed, eyeing Deliverance like she was a satchel she might purchase. “Still, she is quite lovely.” The girl fingered Deliverance’s sleeve as she said it, considering her. Caroline’s bottom lip poked out like a fat earthworm. “I myself enjoyed the intrigue. Tell me, dear, are you pregnant?”
At this both Jack and Aunt Claude had a coughing fit.
“I…what? No!” Deliverance answered, her cheeks heating with indignation. Jack recovered from his fit and grimaced, his face pained. Deliverance could tell these were not some of his favorite people.
“Pity. That would have made for some intriguing gossip. When’s the wedding date? I may just say it anyway if it’s close. Would cause a right stir!” Caroline chattered.
“Caroline!” Jack barked. “You will do no such thing!”
She sighed at her cousin, but acquiesced when her mother seconded that order. “You’re no fun, cousin. At least say you’ll come to the ball. We’re hosting the debut this season. I am sure many of the girls making an appearance were hoping to catch your eye, but you should still come and bring your fiancée. It will be such fun to watch their disappointed little faces!”
Jack’s eyes started to gleam as though he was about to break down. “I, like everyone in Arcanton, exist merely for you amusement, cousin,” he said sarcastically.
“What your cousin so inelegantly meant to say, was that when we heard the good news, we wanted to come by and congratulate you, and also extend our invitation for the ball in felicitations,” Aunt Claude said, eyeing her daughter with resigned disenchantment.
Jack traded glances with Deliverance. He looked panicked. He must need an excuse to refuse the invitation, Deliverance thought. What if… she started to work up a fake cough. She gave a couple chuff chuffs into her gloved hand and looked back at Jack. He looked at her uncomprehendingly. She tried harder, with a little more volume. COUGH COUGH COUGH.
The two women’s gazes snapped to her, regarding her strangely. Jack, having finally caught on said, “Oh, right. See, we will have to send our regrets because obviously, Deliverance is ill.”
HACK HACK HACK. She gave a couple chest deep wallops in there for good measure. When they looked unconvinced, Deliverance hocked some phlegm in the back of her throat for the coup d’état. A couple flecks of spittle flew across the foyer and speckled the wallpaper. They stuck there like glistening beetles.
After a couple beats, Aunt Claude said finally, “Well. There is that… lucky for you the ball is not for another week. We shall see you there, nephew.”
As they turned to leave, Aunt Claude stopped and said in an exaggerated whisper behind her hand to Jack, “And get the girl a cough suppressant, for Christ’s sake!” With a whirl of satin and hairspray, the interlopers left.
After Jack shut the door firmly behind them, his shoulders began to shake. At first, Deliverance thought he, himself, was taken with a coughing attack. But when he finally turned toward her, she could see he was not coughing, but laughing.
“Bloody brilliant!” he cawed as the laugh roared out of him. Tears threatened to stream down him face as his chest was wracked with bellowing, wheezing laughs.
Deliverance too began to laugh. It was rather ridiculous. “But it didn’t work. They’re still expecting you!” Deliverance managed between gasps. They
had both slid down the walls into sitting positions, not being able to keep standing and laughing at that rate at the same time.
“That, my darling, will be our penance for witnessing that brilliant display. Besides it’s a week away. I’m sure we can figure out a suitable cover story and get you up to speed enough. It might be fun to dance, quite literally, underneath all their noses,” Jack replied, hugging his aching ribs.
“We’re really not supposed to be here then? Narisis?” Deliverance asked.
“Perhaps you’re not supposed to be here, but you ought to be.”
CHAPTER 14
Deliverance
“Jack, who is this Christ person everyone keeps referring to?” Deliverance asked over breakfast. Eleanor had joined them and was sitting next to her, watching her every move.
“Oh how novel!” the girl piped, but quieted when Jack shot her a look.
“He’s like one of your gods,” Jack answered.
“Oh? You have different gods here?” Deliverance asked, although she had been expecting something like this. One of the few treasured books she and Cat had stored in their floorboard cache was a thick volume called Odysseus. Deliverance read the book, cover to cover, several times, absorbing the Plaedian masterpiece. When she learned Jack served in a conflict against Plaedes, she felt a tinge of sadness that Odysseus’s society should find itself on the wrong side of a war.
“Yes, the Narisi gods are only really still acknowledged on Nar. In the Outside we have many other gods. Some worship one, others many. Christ is one of them,” Jack said.
“What are your gods like?” Eleanor asked, poking at her eggs. They had taken on a gelatinous sheen due to her inattention.
“Well there is the main god we are supposed to worship, the God of Names or the Naming God. He is the definer of the female power. The Abbot has us pray to him to give us judicious work and to help us retain humility…but there is the Hunter God and the God of Horizons, as well as several lesser spirits like the mer-people and the fae…Mum and I prefer the Hunter God and the God of Horizons, although we keep this fact to ourselves and our rituals to our side of the island,” Deliverance explained patiently to the younger girl.
The younger girl mulled this over before asking, “And what are the Hunter God and the God of Horizons like? I suppose the Hunter God brings you good luck in hunting and good aim? Something along those lines?”
“Yes, you would be correct in your assumption. He is my personal favorite. He also bestows grace and stealth, agility, and cunning. In depictions he is lithe and blends into the backdrops of wherever he is painted. He represents independence, which is why I like him best. Now the God of Horizons is less concrete. He is change—change of the time of day, change in the sky, change in stars, change in the seasons. He is depicted as a glorious god shedding skins or robes and donning new ones as time marches on. He is also fate and serendipity,” Deliverance told her.
“How fabulous and intricate! Why does your…Abbot? Why does he prefer you worship the God of Names?” Eleanor asked, the keen interest sparking in her intelligent eyes.
Before Deliverance could answer, Jack snorted and broke in, “Because the so-called God of Names represents power limitation. The male half of the island has to keep their thumb over the female half somehow in their impotent state.”
Deliverance opened her mouth, then shut it again. She had been ready to protest such a harsh depiction of her fellow islanders. But perhaps he was right? The thought left a sour tang in her mouth.
“Tell me of this Christ,” she said instead.
“Well, he was a man but also the son of God. He was born a little less than three thousand years ago. The Plaedic-Romanis butchered him and when they did that, supposedly he took away sin and made it possible for humans to enter into heaven,” Eleanor expounded.
“That is a rather truncated version,” Jack quipped.
“And heaven is like…the Fields in the Fades?” Deliverance asked, noticing the girl enjoyed having her attention in conversation. She blossomed like a begonia in the spring sun when she could voice the ideas rolling around in her sharp mind.
“Yes, I suppose they would be similar. Many religions have a heaven or Fields-like place associated with them,” Eleanor replied. Ah, so Eleanor was astute to the world around her too, drawing parallels across cultures.
“A man who was butchered does not seem to be a powerful icon,” Deliverance commented, curious although not wanting to insult their god if they believed in that one. She remembered Jack might.
“Yes, I agree your Hunter God seems more awesome and powerful. And yet, it is not necessarily the image of the man himself but the great waves his life has caused since then that are a testament to his power,” said Eleanor. “Whole dynasties, revolutions, advancements in science, terrible wars and hard-won peace—these are all byproducts of this one man-god’s existence.”
Deliverance was amused by the girl’s savvy. Brains ran in the family, no doubt. “I shall have to learn more about him then. And does your brother dictate what god you must worship?” she asked.
Eleanor snorted. “Not bloody likely. I may take up your Hunter God if it pleases me.”
“Eleanor, language!” Jack chastised her, finishing his meal. It had been a pleasant affair in the sunny dining area, which Deliverance understood was for informal meals. Fresh mums dotted the table in cut glass vases, and cinnamon hung in the sunlight beaming through the room-height shuttered windows. “Now I have to see if I can track down Lord Asher, and I have a few other political errands to attend to while I am out. I am leaving Deliverance entrusted to you and Mrs. Potter, Eleanor. Remember you have a job to do!”
Eleanor nodded sagely. “You can trust me. We will get her squared away!” the girl promised seriously.
“I know I can, monkey. I must be off.” He plopped a kiss atop his sister’s head and looked to Deliverance. He hesitated, but then grasped her hand and kissed it as well. “I shall see you lovely ladies later this evening!” And with that he was out the door.
Deliverance’s cheeks warmed slightly at the gesture. She was not expecting that.
“It is okay to blush. My brother can be charming when he wishes…it just is not very often he wishes it!” Eleanor said with a bit of a smirk. She jumped to her feet. “Come along, we are to meet Mrs. Potter in the drawing room.”
***
Eleanor brought her to the same room they had the family meeting in last night, but promised a proper tour of the grounds at a later point that afternoon. Mrs. Potter was in the room, busily arranging a series of objects on a tabletop.
The morning sun leaked through the windows like shafts, ensconced on either side by an outlandish amount of fabric for drapery. Deliverance thought the valances looked a bit like some of the seashells that used to wash up on her beach.
“Good heavens!” Mrs. Potter exclaimed once Eleanor had shut the doors firmly behind them. “Jack cannot go a day without attracting trouble!”
Eleanor sniffed. “To be fair, Aunt Claude and Cousin Caroline are rather like bloodhounds. Once they catch a whiff of upward mobility, they are dogged. Hah, get it?”
“Buzzards, more like,” Mrs. Potter grumbled.
“Aunt Claude and Cousin Caroline are not our favorite people,” Eleanor explained as she began demonstrating the various ways a lady should sit on a piece of furniture. Deliverance mimicked her whilst listening. “When Mummy and Daddy died, they were about as cold and distant as you could get. They certainly were not any help. It was Stevens and Mrs. Potter who stepped up and helped Jack take care of me. He was only fifteen at the time. I was two, still in nappies.”
“I am so sorry, Eleanor!” Deliverance replied, a lump forming in her stomach, both of sympathy and empathy, as her own mother was most likely at risk at this very moment. It sent a restless chill down her veins.
“Please, call me Eleanor. Jack does. It’s okay. I do not really remember them, but it was quite hard on Jack. I wonder if in part he ended up joining the Republic military because of it. Although I think mostly it was to spite Aunt Claude. She and her slimy husband Reginald ferreted out Jack had an inheritance to come into when he turned 18. They figured it out when he was 17, and suddenly began fishing around for ways to become executors of Jack’s estate before he came of age. Everyone was expecting him to start university at Oxdale that autumn, but instead he pulled a fast one on everybody and joined the military, as an enlisted man no less! Normally people from our social standing might choose to become officers, but he did not want to wait long enough for Aunt Claude and Uncle Reginald to weasel their way into our inheritance. Besides he said it would do the Quentins good to have some association with the real world. Jack is a firm believer in the common man. The regular bloke, if you will.”
Deliverance now understood why Stevens and Mrs. Potter were family and Aunt Claude and Cousin Caroline were simply odious attachments. Eleanor had switched from sitting posture to standing posture, although she seemed rather pleased with Deliverance’s carriage, and so moved on to Mrs. Potter’s table. Laid out were various cutlery, as well as napkins, fans, a parasol, and a couple curious square objects Deliverance later found out were called a laptop or computer, and a cellular telephone.
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