“I’m hungry,” Avery groaned.
Avery was dressed differently to Asa, though they both wore their metal vests from Jundres as Kaspar had proclaimed them to be good enough to protect them. His scarf was blue, a swatch of material taken from the off-cuts of Asa’s cerulean shirt. Their swords were suspended from slender leather straps that wrapped around their thighs, trapping the blade close to their legs. Their edges had been sharpened and were razor thin and gleaming. Avery’s sword glittered as he moved over to the window also, beams of sunlight being scattered by the small amount of metal that could be seen on the top edge of the scabbard.
“Too bad.”
Asa wasn’t interested. He shivered, snakes writhing in his stomach as he waited for the ethereal to come to them. He had told them that he was sorting something out, whatever that meant. He rubbed his hands along his too-tight trousers with a worried glance out at the silent streets. They both heard the front door slam shut. Brown and hazel eyes fixed on the door to their room. Asa’s stomach growled, and he reached up to rub the pain away. Avery glanced at him.
“When was the last time that you ate?” he asked.
Asa frowned. “I can’t quite remember. Where’s your bag? I’ll have something.”
Avery paled as he searched his body for the missing item, eyes darting to the floor and skirting around the walls. His expression grew stonier and colder as no bag miraculously appeared. Finally, he straightened his back with an inaudible click and turned to Asa, livid.
“First,” he growled, “we had to sleep on the cold floor with no blankets, now this! That bag was in this room, Asa, when we went to sleep.”
“Maybe they washed it?” Asa dismissed. “It’s fine.”
“Maybe, indeed,” Avery huffed. “Don’t worry about us, then. It’s “fine” because they are “washing” our only possessions.”
“Shh.” Asa slid down the wall and sat on the floor, holding his head. “Let’s both just be quiet.”
“But—”
“Inside voices, Avery!” he snapped.
A pause. Asa shut his eyes, the white room being replaced with the warm orange glow from behind his eyelids. His knobbly spine hit the wall at a thousand uncomfortable angles, yet he could not summon the energy required to move. He breathed in and out. It was a slow, comfortable rhythm, sending him into a strange half-sleep. Asa could hear the movements of his friend next to him but his hands were numb, a cosy apathy taking over his body. He heard the door swing open.
Shoes clattered upon the hard floor, forcing Asa’s eyelids open. The entrant was tall, with longish chestnut hair that sat on his shoulders. Asa blinked. It was just Kaspar. What did he want? Were they to be sent off again, now that they knew exactly what they were to face? He pulled himself up on the wall and faced the taller man. The calm black eyes frightened Asa to some extent, powerful as he knew they were.
He was wearing a brown coat over his strange clothes, a neat black cane in one hand. Asa nodded at him, and he returned the gesture with a stiff smile. He stepped towards them and handed Avery two battered satchels.
“They have been washed,” he said melodiously.
“Thanks,” Avery grunted, looking in the bags, before glancing up. “You changed our food.”
“We replenished it for you,” Kaspar replied. “Fresh food would just go off.”
“Okay.”
Avery handed Asa the lighter satchel. Asa rolled his eyes at the gesture but shrugged the strap over his head anyway, dropping the small weight onto his shoulder with a small wince. Kaspar lifted his chin and held the door open, beckoning them both to follow him. Asa led the way, face calm despite the discomfort caused by the fitted clothes.
“Breakfast,” the ethereal announced, leading them down a short passage to another room that was wood panelled and contained nothing but a large wooden table. “I will fetch the servants. They will serve us.”
Avery’s eyebrow twitched at the mention of servants. He drew a chair for himself with a loud clatter and sat relaxed. Asa lifted his chair over the floor and placed it a foot or so away from the table. He sat up upon his seat bones, a strange shiver going up his spine as he saw Kaspar firstly ring a bell then bark some commands in a harsh language to a group of grey-clad figures. One of them was smaller than the others, pinafore reaching down past her knees.
He restrained himself from smiling at her, fiddling with his neckerchief as they sat in diminished silence. The ethereal snapped his fingers and the figures set to work, leaving the room. Kaspar seated himself at the head of the table, smiling beatifically down at the two of them. Asa managed to curve his lips up but Avery just looked angry.
“So,” the black-eyed being started. “What to do with you?”
“What do you mean, sir?” Asa asked. “You said that we must fight, and we will.”
“I mean,” Kaspar pondered, ignoring Asa, “where are we to go?”
“We?” Avery interrupted.
“Yes.” Kaspar nodded. “You didn’t think that I would send you off alone? That would be unethical.”
“You don’t care, though.” Asa wetted his lips, nervous. “You have no reason to.”
“Of course I don’t care about you two,” Kaspar laughed. “You are correct in that aspect. Why should I come, you ask? Well, I’m not altogether immune to the thrill of the hunt; I also hope that in following you we may find my sister. I have not spoken to Gil for many a year. Maybe she could help you more than I can.”
The door to the dining room swung open as a grey-uniformed woman entered. She set up the plates all around the table and began placing small pieces of mangled metal next to the green ceramic, together with blunted knives. Asa picked one of the spikier pieces up, turning it in his hand. He attempted to stab himself with it, causing small red indentations to appear in the skin. Kaspar stilled him with a scornful look and took up his own knife in his right hand and what looked like a small trident in the left.
“What are these, sir?” Asa inquired, mimicking him.
“This is a knife,” The ethereal explained patiently. Asa struggled with the urge to roll his eyes. “And this is called a fork. Do you not use cutlery behind the wall?”
“The upper classes use a foonif.” A wave of nostalgia hit him, forcing him to swallow and look down at his plate. It was painful in a way. “They look like a cross between a fork and that shovel item over there.”
“A spoon?” Kaspar smirked.
“Precisely,” Asa asserted.
“And the lower classes?” The ethereal asked in amusement.
“Well.” Asa felt uncultured, a savage eating from white tablecloths. “We used our hands.”
“You’re not doing that here,” Kaspar’s voice sharpened. “Sit up, please, and eat like a person. If you cannot eat like a human, then you will dine from a bowl on the floor like a common mutt.”
The woman returned at that moment, carrying a large earthenware tray that supported what seemed to Asa to be an entire feast of food. There were thin rashers of meat, slices of vegetables, and thick patties made from potato and something that he could not quite discern. She slammed it in front of them and directed a similarly clothed man to put a pot of something else next to it. They bowed mechanically at Kaspar then left, not turning their backs on the ethereal. Asa and Avery waited, gripping their cutlery as Kaspar served himself, then noticed them.
“Are you not going to start?” he inquired, spearing a slice of ham on his fork and chewing it for a few bites. He swallowed, gesturing for them to eat. “It’s not poisonous.”
Avery filled both of their plates fairly, dealing each of them portions of potatoes, vegetables, and, as an afterthought, meat. He passed Asa’s plate back to him and Asa thanked his friend, struggling with the unfamiliar tools. He would just be managing to get the knack of it, when a lump of potato would roll back off and splat onto the plate. He cursed under his breath each time and tried again and again, using the fork and knife in the clumsy fashion of an illiterate
wielding a pen. The metal scraped against the plates with a sound that made Asa grit his teeth and wince since it was so horrible.
The food was delicious, though. Asa and Avery attacked their plates with all of their usual gusto, somehow managing to shovel it into their mouths despite the difficulties they were having with their cutlery.
Once their voracious appetites had been somewhat sated, the black-eyed man cleared his throat. Asa forced his eyes up from his emptied plate, though he knew that he mustn’t stay here forever. Time ticked on as Kaspar straightened the cuffs of his coat idly and smiled at them. Asa was inclined to trust the powerful being, having heard his motives, but he saw Avery stiffen next to him as the ethereal spoke.
“I will take you to my sister by the route which I see fit. I trust that there are no problems with this?”
Avery shrugged noncommittally but Asa shook his head. The ethereal would get them there by the fastest way, and he was certain that any lack of cooperation on their part could land them in some sort of trouble down the line. He tied an extra knot on his neckerchief and licked the salt from his lips, savouring the luxurious taste of meat. He was hardly ever able to afford it at home.
“No problems on our end, sir,” his voice was more strained than usual.
He coughed into his hand. Asa assumed that it was a one-time occurrence, but something was off in his throat and it settled into a painful hacking sound, into his hands. Kaspar handed him a napkin with a grimace, and Asa wiped his hands on the clean cloth, seeing with a twinge of concern that the white cloth was tinted with tones of frothy pink once he was done.
“We will be setting off soon,” the ethereal said. “See to it that you have your bags with you and your swords are sharp. They should be. I tended to them myself. Our journey should finish within the realm of a week, if you are interested.”
He left them in the dining room. Asa frowned at the piece of soiled cloth, wondering where he could discard of it. He held it gingerly, glancing around until a small hand took it from his grasp.
“I’ll take this, Master.” It was the girl from yesterday. She made a disgusted face, scrunching her small nose up as she stuffed the damp cloth into her pinafore pocket. “My job.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” Asa thanked her. “I didn’t ask you to.”
“No, I have to,” she replied.
“Your knowledge is good for someone so young,” Asa said appraisingly. “How old are you—seven? It cannot be your first language.”
“I have ten years.” She gave him a small curtsey and Avery a nervous half-wave. “My mother was teaching me.”
“Your mother? Was she the lady in the grey dress?” he asked.
The child’s face crumpled for the briefest of moments, and then she blinked away building tears. “No, sir. She was my nanny. Mother is dead.”
“I’m so sorry,” Asa said. “What was her name—what is your name?”
“I’m Alice,” the child said. “My mother was named Rose.”
“I’m sorry if this is rude,” Asa probed, “but how did she die? She was the queen, wasn’t she?”
Alice looked downcast. Her face fell, her bottom lip trembling as she dug bitten fingernails into her palms. She glanced around the room to see if it was empty, then looked up into Asa’s face with her open eyes, willing him to understand. Asa leant forward until they were close, a palm-length apart.
“Nobody has parents around here,” she told him. “They’re gone now.”
“But how?”
“The wizard came, my master. He sent his curses all over our town. He killed the warriors; he killed the mothers. We children ran off into the woods under the mountains but when we came home—” Her small hands shook as she tried to show him what happened. “They wouldn’t wake up. We tried and tried but our grandparents, they pulled us off. Their eyes didn’t look at us. I ran home and saw my father and mother lying in the hall. Master was next to them. He saw me. He caught me, and told me that I wasn’t a princess now. He told me that I belonged to him.”
“Oh.” Asa was struck dumb. He racked his brains for something to say.
The child smiled at his upset. She picked up his dirtied plate and stacked the rest on top, before heading to leave. “Don’t worry, sir. There’s nothing wrong with being here. At least I’m at home.”
Something rankled inside Asa’s heart at this. His lips stretched into a vague shadow of a scowl as the small girl left the room, tottering under the heavy crockery. When the tall man re-entered with a sharp bang, he did not jump, as he usually would have. Asa kept his gaze fixed on the table in front of him. He heard Kaspar and Avery making forced conversation through his horrified stupor. He did not want to travel with a man who could inflict that sort of pain upon a child.
But no, he half-convinced himself. Kaspar was good. He was just strong, strong enough to hold his own against Erebus. In the end, could Asa complain about his choices in leadership? He had no idea how to rule a country. He had no right to contradict the ethereal. Avery was looking possessive, something clasped in his hands. There was a mulish look written across his features. Asa shook himself out of his stupor and stood unsteadily, walking around his friend to stand at his side.
“I’m keeping it,” Avery said.
“It is rubbish,” Kaspar retorted, holding out his hand. “It has no place with you.”
“It’s mine.”
“It is dead!”
Avery brought his closed hands out in front of him and opened them, revealing his treasure. A flawless dried flower lay on his palms. His hazel eyes softened as he looked at it, before reaching to put it back into his bag. A hand’s length away from the clasp, his arms stilled. Avery attempted to move against the invisible force that was holding him fast. His gaze darted to Kaspar, who was smirking.
“What are you doing?” Avery said.
“I told you that it was rubbish,” Kaspar said. “In this house, we dispose of our waste.”
He rubbed his ancient hands together for what seemed to be several lifetimes. The tanned digits of his fingers seemed at that moment to be growing visibly warmer. A strange red-orange glow surrounded the outline of his body as he muttered something under his breath. When Asa was finally convinced that they were once again in the presence of a madman, his head snapped up, white eyes fixed upon Avery. They had no pupil or colour. They were blankly horrific.
Asa’s mind stumbled on this fact. The eyes had changed colours. Avery was frozen next to him, though Asa wasn’t sure if he would have moved had he been able to. Though he could not hear it, he could have sworn that he could feel a crackling being emitted from the ethereal, sending shivers up his spine and making his clothes tick when he moved. There was a hush, nothing moved, no one even breathed. Then the rose on Avery’s palm burst into flames.
Like a reflex, the blond’s hand grabbed shut over the tongues of heat licking the crisp petals. He winced, as did Asa, and an audible hiss emitted with the unmistakable smell of burning flesh. He did not drop the flower. Kaspar glanced at Avery as his face hardened, sharp jaw growing more defined in his ire. He brought his fist up to his face and flicked open his fingers, blowing the grey ashes in the ethereal’s smug face with determined misery. Asa sucked in a short breath as he saw the blisters forming on Avery’s callused palm. The skin was shiny and red, stretched across the heel of his hand and below the knuckles. Charred pieces of petal were trapped beneath the skin, sealed in by the heat of the flames.
“How dare you?” Avery spat, coughing out the words in obvious pain. “She gave it to me.”
“Who gave it to you?” Kaspar cocked his head, calmer than he ought to be in the circumstances.
“Lili.”
“Lili who?” The black eyes challenged.
“I don’t know.” Avery’s voice held a note of uncertainty. He wetted his lips. “She wanted me to remember her.”
“And what a good job you did of it,” sneered the ethereal.
Asa was growing more and mo
re certain of the black eyes’ malevolence. He grabbed hold of Avery’s tense elbow, only just stopping his friend from landing a swift punch to Kaspar’s stomach. Avery bared his teeth, hissing with anger.
“Asa, stop it, let me at him!”
“No,” Asa regulated his voice. “We must work with him, Avery, you know that. Fighting won’t help us here.”
Avery snorted, resting a hand on his sword, and Asa rolled his eyes as he let him go, fully aware that his friend would never attack anyone with a blade. It may have looked confrontational, but the gesture was defensive. They exchanged tired grins, and Asa placed himself in front of his companion, just so that he would be able to stop anything from happening if the ethereal decided to push it.
The black-eyed man did not. He merely shoved a chair under the table with somewhat alarming ferocity and pulled the door open, holding it in place for them. With a jolt of astonishment, Asa saw that he did not use his hands to do so. Glancing up at Kaspar, he caught the change of his eyes from solid white to black once more. Kaspar smiled at him, revealing rows of needle-like teeth behind his thin lips. He ducked under the doorframe and, taking a deep breath, Asa and Avery followed him.
The town outside was silent, except for the mumbling footsteps of the glazed-eyed civilians, trudging rhythmically along together. They moved between the stumbling figures, pushing them aside as though they were dolls instead of real people. Asa bit his lip as he did so, feeling uneasy. How did he know that they were unaware? He didn’t, but he swept civilians aside with a hand that barely hesitated. They would pause, blink stupidly, and then move on again. Kaspar trod a clear path in defiance of the stream of people, heading towards the steep peaks that emerged above the houses. Thick coats of leafy trees, which gave the impression that they were furred and rocky heads rising up into the clouds, covered the peaks. Without either Asa or Avery knowing it, the ground beneath their feet started to slope up.
His Frozen Fingertips Page 17
