Construct

by Luke Matthews

  Jo Tellis was a bit on the frumpy side, favoring comfortable clothes over fashionable. She kept her hair in a ponytail to the middle of her back, the graying strands not easily distinguishable from the bright blonde of its nature. Her jovial smile was motherly and wise, and it remained the predominant image of her in Samuel’s mind even though it had only lasted a few seconds upon their first meeting. During the chaos of their arrival he had relayed Mane’s fate to her, but there hadn’t yet been time for the whole story, nor any time for her to express the sadness that had crossed her face at the hearing.

  Samuel had yet to move from the slab-bench in the entry since they had arrived. He had no concept of how long he’d been there when Jo emerged from the room at the back of her house, removing her thin-rimmed glasses for just enough time to wipe her brow and stretch her back. Samuel rose, and Jacob had emerged from his room without prompting; it was obvious sleep had evaded him. Neither of them spoke while they waited for Jo’s verdict.

  “Have a seat, you two,” Jo said, replacing her glasses near the end of her nose. The two of them obeyed, claiming the same seats they’d used before, and Jo sat down beneath a wall filled with needlepoint pictures in worn wooden frames. A tired smile came to her face. “She’ll be all right.”

  Jacob blew out the breath he’d been holding and slumped back onto the bench, and Samuel, buried for so long under the darkness of the last few days, felt as though he’d seen a tiny break of light.

  “Now, there’s still some danger here,” Jo said. “She hasn’t woken up yet, and I’m not sure when she will. Only time will tell if it’s just her body taking time to recuperate or—”

  “If she’s in a coma,” Jacob finished. Jo just nodded.

  “Her injuries?” Samuel asked, not entirely sure what he was asking.

  “Her leg will be fine,” Jo said. “She’ll have a limp for a while, but I was able to get it straightened out and set right, so even that should go away. Her gut was the harder of the two to work out. That stab is gonna keep hurting her, in some way or another, for the rest of her life. But it’s closed and it’ll heal, with time.”

  “I…I don’t know what to say,” Samuel said.

  “There’s nothing to be said,” Jo replied with her matriarchal smile. “You three have a place to stay safe and warm as long as you need it. I can keep the guard at bay, and once this blows over, you all can find your way again.”

  “Thank you,” Jacob said.

  The sadness crept out from behind Jo’s eyes again. “Mane always had a habit of taking in strays. I guess I picked it up from him.” Her voice caught in her throat and she nodded again, giving them one more strained smile before patting them both on the knees. “You can go in and see her, but try not to disturb her, okay?” She nodded again before padding off to the front of the house.

  Samuel was standing before the door before he even knew he’d stood. He hesitated and looked over his shoulder to find Jacob still halfway back down the hallway.

  “You go on ahead,” Jacob said, without prompting. “I don’t think…” he trailed off, never finishing his sentence, then stepped down the side hall and into his room.

  • • • • •

  Judging by the number of times Jo came into the room for routine checks, Samuel figured he had spent at least three days at Eriane’s bedside. She tended to leave Samuel to his thoughts, but every so often would ask something of their journey, or of the fight in the Grotto, or of his time with Mane. Samuel was never forced to answer the same question twice, and felt he had recounted his entire waking life to her in a short amount of time, which was a stark reminder of how short his time had been.

  As Eriane lay in her bed she looked as beautiful and untouched as when they had first met, save the long splint around her leg and the hefty bandages around her midsection, which Jo changed regularly. Her sleep was not peaceful, often interrupted by weak moans and the thrashing of her head against her pillow, her mind replaying untold nightmares from which she was unable to defend herself. Still, she did not wake, and Samuel worried.

  It was on the morning of the fourth day that Jacob had come to the room. His entrance was tentative and at first he wouldn’t approach Eriane’s bed, but Samuel kept quiet and let him move at his own pace. Jacob crossed the room and tilted his head to look down on her, taking up her hand in his own for the briefest of moments before his jaw trembled and he let her go. He took a deep breath, and walked over to Samuel.

  “Can we talk?”

  They sat in the parlor, silent longer than Samuel had expected. Jacob almost spoke three times, but seemed to think better of it, and now Samuel was beginning to grow impatient. He quelled his agitation by studying a shelf filled with dolls in hand-crocheted gowns, and waited for Jacob to make the first move.

  “In the past,” Jacob said, “I would have just left a note.”

  Samuel was confused, but waited for Jacob to continue.

  “I’ve made some pretty big mistakes since you and I met, Samuel,” he said. “I have a lot to make up for, but there’s one thing I want both you and Eri to understand above all else: I never led them to you. I wouldn’t do that.”

  Samuel leaned back and Jacob took a deep breath. “I know how it looks,” he said, “especially here in Kelef. You have to believe I was trying to help.”

  Samuel mulled over how to respond. “There’s a difference between trying to help us and just not trying to screw us over, Jacob.”

  Jacob lowered his eyes and nodded.

  “So,” Samuel said. “What happens now? Now that I’m not so…interesting anymore?”

  Jacob ran a hand over his mouth. “It’s not like that anymore, Samuel.”

  “Oh?” Samuel said.

  “Yeah,” Jacob said, meeting Samuel’s gaze for the first time. “Look… When I first met you, I knew there was something different about you. Something that put you above the rest of the constructs I’d known. I was intrigued. In the past, that would be enough for me – it was all I’d ever sought. In the past, once the intrigue ran out, or things got a little too hairy, I’d be smoke in the breeze.”

  “So what’s stopping you?” Samuel said. “It’s not like you owe me any kind of debt.”

  “No, I don’t,” Jacob replied. “But something in me wants you and Eriane to know that…that I’m not just in this for the intrigue anymore. That the two of you…you matter to me.”

  Something about Jacob’s demeanor told Samuel this might be the most genuine thing he’d said since they met. “You have a long road ahead of you, then.”

  “I know,” Jacob said with a nod. “Which is why I’m leaving.”

  Samuel shook his head. “I know I’m not very old, Jacob, but that doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I have some loose ends to tie up. If I’m going to throw in with you for the long haul, I have to…put a few things away.”

  “How long?” Samuel asked, reeling in genuine surprise at Jacob’s admission he intended to stay with them.

  “I don’t honestly know,” Jacob said, crossing the room to lay a hand on Samuel’s shoulder. “Not long, I hope. I know trust isn’t something that has ever, or ever likely will, come easy between us, Samuel. I promise, though, I’m not just stepping out on you like Pare did.”

  Anger and regret stabbed through Samuel at the mention of Pare. It was beyond Samuel’s imagination that someone as close to a brother as Eriane had ever known could see her, in her state back in the Grotto, and turn his back. Of all that had happened to them, that was the one thing for which Samuel was least prepared.

  He felt a squeeze on his shoulder. “This will not be the last time you see me,” Jacob said. Samuel knew he meant it. Jacob handed him a folded letter. “You’ll probably head there anyway, but if you need me you can find me in Balefor. There’s a moneylender there named Jenner. Give him that. He’ll know how to get in touch.” There was an uncomfortable pause. Jacob nodded and left the room, leaving Samuel unsure of whether anything had been resolved be
tween them. The next morning Jacob was gone.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  * * *

  Samuel spent his time by Eriane’s bedside doing his best to sift through what images Acthemenius had pushed to him. Like all the memories he had received, they were incomplete, but now covered a span of time so much longer he couldn’t discern a starting point. There were more points of reference, but his fragmentation was not repaired, so it was still a mess.

  And perhaps that was the key. As far as he knew, Acthemenius had survived the attack. Colton never made it into his hideout, and Bales didn’t seem to be doing the destruction himself, so maybe he could take a moment and pay the old construct another visit. Who knows what kind of mood he would be in after the attack, but it was Samuel’s only chance at sorting things out. He gave Eriane’s hand a pat and she stirred but did not wake, so he made his way out into the hall.

  Firelight flickered into the entryway from the parlor, and Samuel found Jo there with her feet pulled under her on one of the large couches, knitting something out of smooth, cream colored yarn. She raised her eyes above her glasses as he entered.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked.

  Samuel nodded. “Everything’s fine. At least, there’s no change, that is.”

  Jo set her project aside on the couch, giving Samuel her full attention. “What do you need?”

  “I need to know what it’s like out there,” Samuel said, “if you take my meaning. If it would be safe for me to go out into the city.”

  Jo tipped her head back and forth above a curt shrug. “Maybe, maybe not,” she said. “The fervor has died down some, but some very public murders and what appeared to be a riot have the guard clenched up pretty tight right now. Especially since there were guns involved.”

  “I need to see if I can get back to Acthemenius,” Samuel said. “He’s the only one, right now, who might be able to help me sort all of this out.”

  Samuel’s hopes sank with a quick shake of Jo’s head. “Oh, that’s not going to happen, Samuel.”

  “What happened?” he asked, unsure whether he wanted to hear the answer.

  “You see, after you all escaped down there, the Guard came in. Most of the people, the ones who were still alive, that is, had come back to their senses, and didn’t remember a damned thing. That wasn’t all of them, though. The few who did remember described an ancient-looking, battered old construct right in the middle of all the strife.”

  “And they all thought it was Acthemenius,” Samuel concluded.

  Jo nodded. “He’s long gone. The guard’s been looking for a reason to douse him for a while. Word is they finally rounded him up and tossed him in the canner bin.”

  “Canner bin?” Samuel asked.

  A wry grin crossed Jo’s face. “I forget how young you are. It’s a construct prison,” she said, her smile fading. “And Kelef’s bin is one of the deepest in the world, bored right out of the mountain under the backside of the Keep. Sorry, Samuel, but there’s no way anyone, especially you, is setting foot in there. Acthemenius is gone.”

  • • • • •

  As lost as ever, Samuel sat by Eriane’s bedside mulling over what to do next, but his lack of experience left him floundering. The more he brooded, the more defeated he felt. He had no leads, no direction, and the only people who could have provided any for him were dead or locked away in an inaccessible dungeon. Pacing back and forth in the room, all his pent up frustration boiled to the top and he slammed his hand down on the closest surface.

  “Damnit!” The small side table he struck clattered broken to the floor.

  Eriane stirred again, in the midst of another nightmare. Her head rolled toward him and a dry noise escaped her throat that might have been a word. She had cried out in her sleep before, but something about her movements drew Samuel’s attention and he rushed back to her side. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead and Samuel took her hand in his, and his frustration melted into a brief hope as he watched her wrestle with some unseen aggressor. The hope was quick to fade; he knew better than to get himself worked up, and in his sadness he wished he could cry for her.

  Eriane settled, appearing to have defeated whatever disquiet had roused her in the first place. She lay back into her pillow, took a deep breath, and opened her eyes.

  • • • • •

  After Eriane awoke, Jo hustled Samuel out of her room and would only let him back in at prescribed times to visit while she recovered. Over the weeks while she regained her strength, their time together was limited. Eriane spoke very little, answering any questions with curt phrases just informative enough to get her point across. The subject of the Grotto was rarely broached, and Samuel couldn’t bring himself to speak of Pare. Eriane never mentioned him.

  After a while, they fell into a routine. Samuel helped around the house while Jo tended to Eriane’s recovery. After she’d found the strength to stand, Samuel would spot her as she learned to navigate with crutches. He sat to the side while Jo and Eriane took meals together, and watched over her while she spent her days by the window in Jo’s parlor. Eriane was distant, entangled in her own mind and blocking out the rest. It seemed to Samuel, all her effort focused on getting healthy again and avoiding any real outside engagement.

  Something was different, and always would be. Even Samuel knew that no person of any age could go through what Eriane had experienced and come out the other side unchanged. Still, there were moments where the old Eriane would shine through, and in the past week or two she’d even smiled and allowed herself to laugh. After an amusing conversation with Jo during supper one dark winter night, Eriane stood from her empty plate, walked over to Samuel, threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight, then slid away to bed without saying a word.

  The gesture froze him in place, and even Jo had stopped in her tracks. “I think that girl’s going to be all right,” she said.

  For the first time in weeks, Samuel thought so too.

  • • • • •

  Eriane wasn’t back to her old self. She was something new now, different, and Mane’s apprentice was gone forever. Her demeanor was more serious and, in spite of the occasional smile or sly remark, she was anything but jovial. She’d begun to take walks in the morning and had denied Samuel’s company, noting he still couldn’t be seen in public for fear of being recognized, and Jo agreed. A young girl, bundled up and out for a walk in the snow, wouldn’t draw attention, but an ancient and very unique construct would.

  Eriane spoke one evening of having visited the city library several times. When Samuel pressed about what she was looking for, she would shrug off the question and explain that she loved libraries, especially after living with Mane. Although she rarely spoke after returning from her walks, she would sometimes draw Jo aside and engage in short, low conversations Samuel wasn’t able to overhear. The conversations felt like preparations, and Samuel was beginning to go stir-crazy at not being included.

  As safe as he was here, the time for him to leave was approaching, and he needed to address it with Eriane and Jo sooner or later. The conversation wouldn’t be comfortable, but he couldn’t avoid it forever. Samuel approached her one afternoon as she returned from another outing, shaking fresh snow from her hood and dropping her book-laden pack by the door.

  “Eri, can we talk?”

  Eriane shot him a look of concern, like she was about to get in some kind of trouble. “Um…sure, Samuel.” She led them into the parlor.

  “I need to do something,” Samuel said.

  Eriane furrowed her brow. “Like what?”

  “I don’t know,” Samuel replied. “But I can’t just sit around here anymore, now that you’re back on your feet. I feel like you’re safe here. You have a place where you can make a life for yourself, and I think it’s time for me to be on my way. I have so much to figure out, and so many things—”

  “Wait a minute,” Eriane interrupted him, holding up her hand. “What do you mean, time for you to be on your w
ay?”

  “Well…Eri…” Samuel stammered. “You seem to have found some comfort here, and you get along well with Jo. I just assumed—”

  “You assumed wrong,” she said, flashing genuine irritation.

  “I…”

  “Samuel,” Eriane said. “The only thing I have in common with Jo is Mane. She’s been asking me for weeks to tell her stories of his life, of mine and…my life with him.” Maybe the quiet conversations weren’t what Samuel thought they were. “She’s a wonderful woman and she’s done so much for me, but if you think I’m going to let you set out on your own after everything we’ve been through, you’re insane.”

  “I can’t put you in any more danger, Eriane,” Samuel said. “You were almost killed, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if you’d died.”

  Eriane’s face was unsympathetic. “Well how about you let me be responsible for me, then?” she said. “Samuel, you still don’t get it. My decisions are my own. Mine. And my decision is that I need to help you figure out whatever it is we’re in the middle of now. Not you. WE.”

  “But—”

  “Ah-ah…” she said, waggling her finger. “No but!”

  It was apparent Samuel had no room to argue this point, and he wasn’t sure that displeased him. “Okay, then.” He paused. “Where do we start?”

  Eriane smiled, an unfamiliar expression playing across an all too familiar face. She unshouldered her pack and moved to sit in the parlor, waving for him to come over. When Samuel caught up her eyes were closed, her breath uneven, obviously fighting with words that needed to be said but wanted to be buried.

  “When Pare and—” her words caught, and it took her a moment to recover. “When we were at the library, we found a passage in a book, a really obscure book of myths and legends. It was…It was about you.” She pulled a book from her bag and set it on the table in front of her.