by Gin Hollan
She sighed with immediate relief as she undid her boots and pulled them off. She gripped them tightly under one arm, looking for Marble. She wanted her pet with her, figuring she needed a break too.
"Sam, can you lift Marble up for me?"
He scooped her up and gently set her on Arabeth's lap.
"Thank you," she smiled, holding Marble steady with one arm.
The cart lurched to a roll and they followed the road around to the north. Soon the rhythm of travel had Arabeth yawning and losing track of time. It was dark when the wagon stopped next.
// Chapter 6 //
"Arabeth, it's time to put your boots back on," Sam's voice called through the canvas, luring Arabeth back to alertness.
"Where are we?" She mumbled.
Sam reached out to help her down again. "There's an inn. We're stopping for the night."
"They probably board horses in the back. We will need to stay and watch in shifts make sure no one tampers with our cargo," Graham was talking in slow, cryptic ways, but Arabeth understood why. Being so far out of his comfort zone, he was controlling what he could. At this point, it was himself.
"I'll take Mabel and arrange for our accommodation here," Arabeth covered a yawn as she hopped down.
The rustic two-story building sat long at the road's edge. A well-tended path wound around back. There wasn't much more she could see in the moonlight, but it was enough to encourage her inward. The heavy-set inn keeper gave her a curious look, staring a moment at Marble sitting on her shoulder, but didn't ask any questions as he walked them up to a second floor room and crossed to start the lantern.
On the second floor, he pointed to the far end and said something Mabel would have to translate.
"He says the washroom is at the end," Mabel said.
Inside their room, it was as simple and well-tended as she had hoped. Two room keys later, she was hurrying Mabel up to one, fighting her own sleepiness. She almost laughed when she looked in the room. Everything was just a bit big, and Graham was going to feel odd about that. About twenty percent bigger. Why, though?
Simple, narrow, but comfortable-looking beds sat pushed up against two opposing walls. The air was crisp from a single open window between them. Matching the simple style of the rest of the room, a single lantern sat on the table. Another table, nearer the door, held a large ceramic pitcher, wash cloth, and a wash basin. There was a second basin on the floor with a large folded towel next to it, presumably to wash your feet.
To Arabeth, it looked perfectly comfortable. Feeling her tiredness return, she thought she'd better get back outside.
"All right Mable. You get settled in. The men and I will be taking turns guarding the wagon. When I’m out, you keep the door locked," she said as she turned the latch, testing the lock.
Mabel nodded and immediately chose the bed against the furthest wall.
Arabeth hurried to the bathroom. She felt a little silly when her feet couldn't quite touch the ground when as sat. It was like being a kid, all over again, she giggled.
Outside, Sam and Graham had led the horse and wagon back around into a small, open paddock. The horse stood free now, happily munching on a considerable amount of hay. It was better for a foraging animal to eat slowly and not run out, she knew. They'd stop when they needed to, if not deprived or given sweet feeds.
"It'll be easier to watch over everything in the same spot," Sam explained.
"No, that's perfect. That's what the innkeeper said."
"Innkeeper? He really goes by that title?" Graham scoffed.
"Well, it is a road-side inn," she shrugged. "With a tavern and all."
"So, real food?" he smiled. "And smooth drink? Finally, a sign of actual civilization."
"What's the room number?" Sam said, holding his hand out.
"You’re in eleven. First door, second floor." She handed the key to him. "We're in twelve, across the hall. Bathroom is at the end of the hall. There are personal care items in your backpack."
"Thought of everything, I see," he said, a little flat. Tired, she amended. "Who wants first watch?"
"I'll go first. Once I'm asleep, it'll be hard to get me up again," Arabeth said.
"Then second shift is mine. I like the air at night," Graham offered.
"That leaves me with the last shift. Someone may have to wake me," Sam said. "Was there an alarm clock in the room?"
Their shifts sorted, the men walked off, each carrying his own pack.
Alone with their 'cargo', Arabeth looked for a place to get comfortable. The next three or so hours would be more bearable if she could find a spot that was comfortable. Spotting a stack of hay bales stacked against the back of the inn, she walked over and dragged one back with her.
It seemed she'd barely settled in when there was a scream from the back of the wagon. Jumping up, Arabeth opened the flap on the back. Sitting up, looking scared and disoriented, sat the woman. Arabeth immediately pulled out the gun and aimed.
"Please, don't shoot. I'm not dead." She held her hands up. Her speech was slightly slurred, but not bad, considering she was supposed to be dead.
Arabeth paused.
"This is a ruse constructed so Mabel and I could escape.” She stretched her arms up, inhaling deeply, eager for breath. “I needed to dodge… a certain man’s attention. That is all."
“This seems a bit extreme,” Arabeth frowned. “And dangerous.”
“I suppose it would look that way, but I’m better thought as dead.”
Arabeth simply nodded. The woman’s speech was a little slurred. There was no doubt it was residual effects of being repeatedly knocked out. Presently she seemed harmless enough, but Arabeth suspected there was more to this story than the woman was currently ready or able to share.
A noise to her left drew her attention as Graham walked up.
"She's not dead, Graham," she said, quickly stepping in the way of his approach.
“I don’t care.” He reached out and pulled the gun out of her hand. Pushing her to one side, he aimed and shot. With a thud, the women fell back, asleep. There was a slight green shimmer over her body as she lay there.
"You may be foolish enough to trust someone who is possessed, but I have no such flaw,” he said, shaking his head. "Go get some sleep."
"Seriously, she says this was all a ruse."
"Yes, and when we deliver the princess to the castle, our reward will be great. Go to bed already," he turned, looking for a spot to sit.
A motion from the wagon made them both look. This time Melanie was sitting up.
"I need to use the facilities," she mumbled and scooted forward, dropping awkwardly out of the wagon.
"I'll show you where," Arabeth said, giving Graham a scowl as she took her tottering friend's elbow.
Graham stared, not sure what to say. He decided to sit on the hay bale, laying the weapon across his lap.
"Are you awake? Or is this sleep walking?" Arabeth wondered.
"Too tired. I need the bathroom… and water."
Arabeth closed the inn’s ground floor bathroom door behind Melanie and went to get glass of water. When she got back, she knocked. No answer. Slowly she turned the handle, realizing Mel hadn't locked it. She peeked in to see her friend, asleep on the toilet, leaning on the nearest wall. Arabeth tried not to laugh at the absurdness of the situation and went near enough to tap Melanie's shoulder.
"Mel, wake up. You're going to regret sleeping here."
"Mmm, water," Melanie said, taking the glass and downing it in one go. "Okay, out." She pushed the empty glass at Arabeth.
"Stay awake long enough to wash up and get into a real bed."
Melanie waved her out. “Fine. Two minutes. I’ll be out in two minutes.” The door shut with a thud.
Two minutes stretched into five. She knocked. “Mel, come on. You can’t sleep in there. You’ll fall in.”
Arabeth looked around. It might look odd, dragging a nearly-awake but could-be-a-drunk person outside and tossing them int
o the back of a wagon. She didn’t need trouble.
She banged on the door. Now that a bed was a choice, she’d hurry her to it. How could Melanie get any actual rest in the back of a wagon, anyway? Arabeth would sleep on blankets on the floor. She was tired enough to not care about a mattress. A pillow, though... that she would want.
The door creaked open and Mel stood, leaning heavily on a wall.
“Lean on me,” she said, pulling Melanie her way.
Upstairs in their room, Arabeth sat Melanie on the edge of the bed. As she dropped down, Arabeth quickly pulled a blanket off then took the second, smaller pillow. Melanie wouldn't notice them missing. She'd already fallen over sideways onto the other pillow and pulled her feet up.
As she set up her sleeping area in a corner, she mused at just how many mysteries were surrounding her and her friends now. The target on their backs grew larger by the day, it seemed.
// Chapter 7 //
Arabeth awoke to a knock on the door the next morning.
"Excuse me, but are you staying another night? You'll need to leave in thirty minutes if you are not." It was a younger male voice, delivering his short speech with authority. He must be the innkeeper’s son, she decided. Propping herself up, she was surprised by how bright it was through the window. She was stiff from being on the floor, but at least the bed gave her enough shade to get a good sleep.
How long had they slept? She checked her pocket watch. It was going to be noon in half an hour? She bolted out of her make-shift bed, gathered the blanket and pillow and tossed them on the bed, thinking to quickly wash her feet and tend other personal needs. Melanie was still asleep, as expected. Mabel had just sat up and was rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Which of the guys was watching the wagon and why hadn't someone woken her up for another turn watching?
"What was all that noise last night?" she asked before noticing Melanie in the bed across from her. "Oh... did something happen?"
Arabeth sighed and turned to look at Mabel.
"Is there something you're not telling me, Mabel? Something about the woman in the wagon?"
Mabel's complexion blanched and she had trouble making eye contact.
"Is there a chance she's not dead?"
Mabel nodded.
"And that she's actually your mother?"
Mabel heaved a sigh then nodded again.
"Tell me what's going on. It'll be easier to help you both if I know the facts."
Melanie mumbled something from under the blankets on the other bed.
"Your friend woke up last night? ... Is that why she's inside?" Mabel started slowly, hesitating.
"Yes, and no, Mabel. Now tell me the real reason we’re taking you to Owen?"
"We need to change our identities and leave the country. Mom says that's the only way to escape the family."
"You're not free to come and go, as you like?"
"I was born to the family, so they say I belong with them. My dad died and the family doesn’t trust us to keep their secrets. She doesn't want me growing up into that life, now that she understands it."
"Are any of these secrets about a man named Tanner Stein?"
Mable’s head shot up and she stared wide-eyed at Arabeth.
“Is another secret about a functional automaton?”
Mable nodded slowly. “They’re not supposed to work anymore. They need a seer to run them, and all Seers are loyal to the King. That man found a way to make one work, without another person. He uses a device he calls a Controller. He is starting his own army.”
“Which side of that army are you and your mother on?” She didn’t need to ask, if Mabel’s trembling meant anything.
“Mother says he’s crazy. We’re going to warn the King.”
“The good news is, Tanner Stein is dead.”
“Really?” she looked hopeful then shook her head. “No, wait. My mom says he is part of a group… that it's more than a political thing.”
Arabeth waited, hoping the silence would prompt her to elaborate.
Mabel shook her head. “My mom will know how to find them, but she protects me. She says I need to ask fewer questions and focus on getting her to the King before that pistol puts holes in her memory.”
Arabeth walked over to where Melanie slept and gave her shoulder a light shake. "Come on Mel, we need you to walk out of here on your own two feet. Nap time is over." As she removed her hand, an electrical static charge shot out six inches then radiated out around Melanie. "Is this your way of saying no? We have a job to do - an important one. You can sleep in the wagon. I'll buy you a pillow, even." This was crazy stuff, like Tesla had found a way to use people as a conduit. That would be crazy.
Melanie mumbled something then tried to sit up. The static field still surrounded her.
"Try harder, Mel, or shut that electricity off so I can help you up."
Melanie sighed and the static dissipated.
"Good. Let's get you on your feet now." Arabeth took Melanie's elbow and used it to guide her up and around toward the door.
"Mabel, be a dear and get the door, would you?"
They made their way down to the bottom of the stairs with a bit of patience. The odd sight turned a few heads, and more eyes.
"Melanie, you do this every year. Can’t you find a better way to mourn your parents?" Arabeth lied loudly when she noticed people looking over and the odd one staring.
It hadn't occurred they might be staring because they looked foreign. How many of them understood her? Her mouth felt like sand as this sank in.
"We’d better leave, fast."
Wobbling as they hurried as they could, Arabeth realized she’d left her pack behind. "Mabel, go back up and get my pack please, then meet us out back, by the wagon.”
The girl hesitated.
“Don’t worry - we’ll wait for you."
Mabel nodded and ran back upstairs. Melanie stumbled slightly, but Arabeth encouraged her out the door. As they made their way around to the back, Arabeth paused. Sam stood talking with two strangers, both of them in military-style uniforms. All three looked to be deep in conversation, but one of the men glanced when Arabeth rounded the corner.
Hopefully they believed whatever Sam was telling them. He did speak the crime-fighter’s parlance. They had a sleeping woman in the wagon, and she was almost literally dragging another one out of a roadside inn. If that didn't look suspicious, nothing did. How would he explain? She stopped long enough to catch her breath. Melanie was a bit heavier than she looked.
Mabel came running around the corner, nearly hitting them both. That got the attention of all three men.
"Uh oh," Arabeth said. She wouldn't curse in front of Mabel, but there were stronger words in her head right now. Hopefully Sam quickly said enough for her to play along with whichever story he had cooked up. She walked over to join the conversation, or interrupt it, whichever needed to happen.
The two men were tall, like the people in the gypsy camp, and their posture smacked of faked ease. Running wouldn't be an option. Urging Melanie forward, she walked her to the wagon.
"They caught a virus somewhere. I can't put a finger on what it is, but they sleep all the time. We're heading to Owen right now, to a specialist." Sam's words were strong enough, foreign enough, and strange enough that the two men kept their distance from the wagon.
The two men took a step back.
"And the girl?" the other one asked.
"She's the daughter of the one in the wagon," Arabeth said.
"And you are?" the taller of the two asked.
"She's my wife," Sam said, smiling. “Arabeth. We really need to get going. The day will be hot.”
"I think we'll wait until the Captain gets here."
"Can I at least help this one into the wagon?" Arabeth asked.
The other officer nodded. As she went past Sam, he rolled his eyes when she blocked the view of the others then turned back.
"It would be good if you didn't try to stop us. As family, we are mor
ally obligated to get them medical attention. We hope it's not contagious, but truthfully, we're not doctors."
The taller one took another step back. Glancing at the other man, he shrugged.
"Dennis, you go with them. I'll wait for the Captain," he said to the shorter one.
"I have other business to attend to here. You should follow at a safe distance, to make sure they get where they need to go," he replied.
“Arabeth, you go while we sort this out,” Sam said, waving one hand dismissively at her.
Taking Sam's cue, she helped Mabel into the back then went to snap the rope and lead line onto the horse. Arabeth hoped Melanie didn't do anything electrical before they got down the road and out of sight. There was no doubt the guards would know what that meant. Where was Graham? If he was still sleeping after the doors had been knocked on, that was his own fault.
From the corner of her eye, Arabeth caught the silhouette of a short, middle-aged man hastened toward them from near the inn. Graham. He walked briskly up and withdrew the gun from under his coat, jamming it lengthwise into her side.
"Take this. Nothing is worth jail time," he said.
Arabeth took the pistol, relieved. "We don't know if they're against the law here," she whispered.
"Is Hicks back with those guards?" he asked, using Sam's last name.
"Yes, and he'd better hurry - I don't plan to dawdle."
As they walked on, Arabeth let the horse slow to a more ambling pace, sympathy for the beast generated by complaint from her own sore feet. Hers were apparently city boots, she conceded.
Current supplies should last them a week, if they were spare in their consumption... but then there was Mabel, and her unconscious mother.
The mother... what was her name? If she knew it, she'd forgotten. Arabeth would have to ask. Either way, they'd have to help the two get to the safety of the contact waiting for them in Owen. Then they could head east. They might get lucky and discover one of the underground rail areas. Would they all look like a strange architectural challenge? Should she share that secret with Sam and Graham, or was that something that would bite her in the butt when she got home? Somehow, nothing got easier the more she thought about it.
