“Shall we stop at the café for lunch?” Zach asked.
Zander checked the time, thought a moment, then opened his mouth to reply when he suddenly stopped in his tracks. Zach and Zain nearly bumped into him before they could stop themselves.
“What is it?” Zain asked, scanning their surroundings for danger, ready to shift in a moment if necessary.
“Nothing dangerous,” Zander said. “It’s just…do you see that woman?”
“What woman?”
“I see her,” Zach said, his voice low and a little bit dazed.
Zain followed his brothers’ gazes until he, too, spotted the woman they spoke of. There were at least twenty other females walking along the wooden sidewalks and a few more walking along the gravel road between them that was rarely used for vehicles, but he knew exactly which one had caught their attention.
She was taller than most women, at least six feet, he guessed. She had pale blue hair that was pulled over her shoulder in a thick braid that bounced gently against her hip as she walked, and a figure that, once upon a time, would have had him hot and hard with just one look. Now, a completely different part of his body reacted to her. That made him nervous enough that he instantly put up his guard.
“I bet she’s a Lobo,” Zach said as they watched her step off the sidewalk and cross the road, her movements smooth and graceful, like a dancer. “Is that red and blue thing on her shoulder a bird?”
She stepped back onto the sidewalk not too far from where they stood, then opened a door and vanished from their sight.
“Did she just go into the armory?” Zander asked. “Yes, it’s a bird, and why do you think she’s a Lobo?”
“Yes, she went into the armory,” Zach replied. “And her hair is blue. Lots of Lobos have blue hair.”
“Not all of them,” Zander said. “But you might be right. What do you think, Zain?”
“I don’t know,” Zain replied with a shrug that belied the wariness in his eyes. “What difference does it make?”
“Relax, Zain, we’re not going to follow her or attempt to speak with her, or anything of the kind,” Zander said gently. “Come on, let’s go to the café for lunch. Then we’ll catch the next VTOL to the spaceport, catch a shuttle up to the Shadow and be on our way back to our patrol post before dinner.”
***
Bean entered the armory and paused just inside to give her eyes a chance to adjust to the dim interior. Then she stepped up to the counter to wait for Jed to finish with his current customer.
“What a fascinating place,” Iffon said, craning his neck around as he looked at the myriad weapons, targets, shields, armor, ammunition and other mysterious items visible from where they stood.
“Fascinating?”
“Very fascinating. That surprises you?”
“Yes, it does. Why does it fascinate you?”
“Have you looked at me lately, Bean? I’m not your average treetop tenant and community birdbath patron. I have certain abilities of the uncommon variety. But no matter how many times I change my physical form I’m forever limited to a be-feathered creature with talons and beak as my only weapons.”
“Don’t forget you can also fly, and you have very good eyesight.”
“That’s true. But my point is that you and all other manner of sentient humanoid beings have the incredible ability to choose whatever weapon you wish to make or pick up. For you, the possibilities are endless. For me, they never change.”
“Are you saying you wish you were human, Iffon?” Bean asked blandly.
“I most emphatically am not,” Iffon replied with an indignant squawk and a spirited ruffling of feathers. “I’d rather be a bird than any other creature I’ve ever seen or heard of. I’m just fascinated by your abundance of choices.”
“Oh. All right then.”
“You did that on purpose.”
“I did what on purpose?”
“You…you…you got me ruffled.”
“I got you what?”
“Ruffled.”
“Iffon, you're not making any sense. I’m starting to think we need to cut down on your pie intake.”
“What has one got to do with the other?”
“See? That’s exactly my point.”
“I have your mother’s order, Bean,” Jed said as his previous customer headed for the door. He paused, staring at the bird on her shoulder. “Is your bird ill?”
Bean glanced at Iffon who was crouched down on her shoulder, his head waving back and forth slowly, beak open wide. “No, he’s just a little, you know, odd.”
“I see. Well, one moment.”
She nodded politely, trying not to look at Iffon again for fear she’d laugh herself stupid. She focused intently on watching Jed retrieve a leather weapons carrier from a shelf. He laid it on the counter in front of her, but before she could reach for it he began untying the straps holding it closed.
Maybe she was supposed to verify her mother’s order before she took it? Having never purchased a weapon before, or picked one up, she had no idea. She didn’t know what her mother had ordered, either. She was trying to decide if she should vox and ask when Jed unfolded the carrier’s three sections, revealing the contents and diverting her attention completely.
There were three different types of objects, all held carefully in protective sheaths and loops. One section held what appeared to be six pair of chopsticks. They were made of a warm ivory material, each one intricately carved with tiny leaves and vines that had been painstakingly painted in various shades of greens and blues. Sprinkled among the vines were flowers and birds which were painted different colors for each pair.
Like any chopstick, they were thick at one end, and gradually thinned almost but not quite to a point at the other end. They looked far too fancy to be used as eating utensils, though. Bean suspected they were intended to be used as hair ornaments.
The next section held half a dozen hair sticks of the sort she often used herself. They were meant be used to hold hair up, like the chopsticks, but hair sticks were too short to work well with hair as long and as thick as hers. She used them to dress up the thick braid she generally wore.
These were much nicer than any she owned, though. The stick portion was a six-inch-long flat blade of the same ivory colored material as the chopsticks. At the top it was about half an inch wide, narrowing gradually to a point at the other end. That was the part intended to go in the hair, which was significantly different from the ones she used. The tops were more than an inch wide, each carved into a different type of flower. Like the chopsticks, the flowers were stained in a variety of different soft colors.
The third and final section held a dozen throwing knives. She thought that’s what they were, anyway. Having used her mother’s practice knives for several weeks, she wasn’t sure if that’s what she was looking at or not. They had the right shape, but they seemed much too thin, and too narrow as well. They were also made of the same ivory material rather than steel, which confused her further.
It only took Bean a few seconds to look over the items in the carrier. They were very beautiful, she thought, though why an armory would offer hair ornaments was a question she couldn’t begin to answer. One thing she did know was that they couldn’t possibly be for her mother. The hair ornaments were specifically designed for use with long hair, and her mother had always worn her hair short.
“These are lovely, Jed,” she said. “But I don’t think this is what my mom ordered.”
“As a matter of fact, they’re exactly what I ordered,” Saige said from behind her. Bean spun around, which Iffon had anticipated, luckily.
“I don’t think I understand.”
“Those are all made of Kunian steel,” Saige said, moving to stand beside Bean at the counter. She pulled one of the hair sticks from its loop and held it up. “See here?” she asked, running one fingertip down the back side of the flat stick portion. Bean looked closer and saw a series of thin, wavy indentations. Saige then turned the h
air stick over and pointed to a long, narrow clip just below the flower. When she was sure Bean had seen it, she gripped the stick portion and gave it a little tug, pulling what appeared to be a sheath off of the blade.
“The lines on the sheath will help it remain in place in your hair, as will the clip. When you tug the flower top, the sheath remains in place, baring a very sharp blade that will cut through absolutely anything.”
She offered the sheath and the hair stick to Bean, who accepted them with a little smile. She examined the bared blade, noting it had a tiny raised area on the back and front near the pointed end to make it easier to hold if she wanted to throw it.
“I’ve seen Salene’s sai, Mom. They look like steel.”
“I know,” Saige said. “With Kunian steel’s recent rise in popularity and demand, they’ve begun making new colors. We thought ivory would help prevent anyone from suspecting what they really are.”
Bean slid the blade back into the sheath, feeling a tiny click when it was in place. Then she lifted her braid and slipped it in, weaving it through her hair a little to keep it in place, and making sure the tiny clip held a small section of hair. Then she grasped the flower top and pulled it firmly, but not too hard. With another tiny click the hair stick slid out of the sheath, its blade bared. She returned it to the sheath where it clicked into place once again.
“This is ingenious, and gorgeous,” she said, her fingertips brushing against the intricately detailed pale pink rose on top. “I thought Kunian steel had to be grown to the shape you want, but this looks carved.”
“You’re correct, Bean,” Jed said. “They must be grown in a mold. My extremely talented wife hand carved each design in wax. They were then used to create molds for the Kunian steel. Once the finished products were returned, she painted each one.”
“So much time and work were put into these,” Bean said softly. “And it shows. They’re so beautiful. I’d be proud to wear these every day even if they weren’t weapons.”
“I’m so glad you like them,” Saige said. “The chopsticks are the same, except the sheaths only cover the lower third or so.” Saige smiled. “They suit you, Bean. Beautiful and sweet on the outside, but incredibly strong on the inside.”
Bean turned with tears in her eyes and threw her arms around her mother, sending Iffon hopping to the counter. “Thank you, Mom.”
“You’re welcome, baby,” Saige said, hugging her back, reveling in the honest emotion not just in Bean’s eyes and voice, but in her expression as well. “Your fathers wanted to be here but they had to go to the shipyard in Berria to iron out some issues with the ship.”
“That’s okay, I can thank them later. I’m curious about the knives though. They look different from yours.”
“They are different,” Saige said. “We thought that since you’ll be using telekinesis to guide them, and since they’re unbreakable, weight didn’t matter quite so much. It’ll be easier and more convenient for you to carry these, but they’re still well-balanced with comfortable handles for throwing or holding.”
“Thank you so much Mom, and please thank Kinna for me, Jed. I don’t even have words to tell you how much this all means to me.”
“That’s okay, Bean, we got the message,” Saige said, smiling.
Bean returned her smile. It was faint. But it was real. Then she turned to Jed. “Is there anything in particular regarding caring for these that I need to be aware of?”
“Not really,” Jed replied. “Like your mother said, everything is made from Kunian steel. That means they’ll cut anything, so you need to be careful with them. The hair ornaments have attached sheathes, as you’ve seen, but the knives don’t. Make sure to use only the knife belt that I just realized I forgot to give you.” He bent down, then stood again with a small bag. “The belt has sheaths that are lined with Kunian steel. If you try to use anything else to hold them, they’ll cut right through it. There’s also one ankle sheath and one forearm sheath in there with the belt, and six practice covers that Kenna insisted on making for you.”
“Practice covers?”
“These knives, as you noticed, have a different size and weight than regular throwing knives, so you’ll want to practice to get accustomed to them. But, they’ll cut anything, which makes practicing with them dangerous. The covers are lined with Kunian steel like all of the sheathes, and fully cover the sharp edges without changing its weight or size significantly.”
“Give Kinna an extra special thank you, Jed, and thanks to you, too. You’re both so thoughtful.”
Bean sensed a familiar presence behind her and turned to see her Popi. She went to him and gave him a big hug, barely noticing when Iffon leapt onto Saige’s shoulder. “Thank you, Popi, for the wonderful gift.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, hugging her back. “I wish I could stay and watch you examine them, but I’m afraid we need to get back to Berria.”
“We?” Saige asked.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. There are some design issues that we really need help with.”
“Sure,” Saige said. She hugged Bean again, then paused when Iffon spoke to all three of them.
“I need to rest for a time. Would you mind, Lord Ban, pretending to take me with you? I’ll become invisible when you leave and meld with Bean.”
“Sure,” Ban said, tapping his shoulder.
Saige moved to stand beside Ban. “We’ll see you this evening, baby.”
“Okay Mom,” Bean replied, her features blank again. When they vanished, she remained facing away from the counter until she felt the familiar burning sensation of the meld.
“Rest well, Iffon.”
“Thank you, Bean. I’m going deep, if that’s all right.”
“No problem. See you later.”
Bean waited as Iffon faded until she could no longer feel him, then turned back to the counter to see that Jed had already closed the carrier and tied it. He put the bag holding the sheathes and belt on top of the carrier and handed them to her.
“Thank you, Jed,” she said, “and don’t forget to thank Kinna for me too, please.”
“Don’t worry, Bean, I’ll tell her.”
“Bye,” she said, then left the store. She paused on the sidewalk to put the strap attached to the carrier over her shoulder, then began walking, swinging the bag in one hand.
The weapons her parents had gifted her with were not only of the finest quality and workmanship, but also stunning works of art. She only hoped that one day she’d be able to do them justice.
***
The Falcorans were seated in front of the window of the café which looked out over the Garrison. They were several doors down and on the opposite side of the road from the armory, so they had no trouble seeing the tall, graceful young woman as she stepped out onto the sidewalk.
She only walked a short distance before crossing to their side of the road and out of their view. Zander was disappointed at that, then remembered she’d have to pass right in front of the big picture window directly in front of them. He waited, his body growing tense with anticipation until, finally, she appeared mere inches from where they sat.
Time seemed to slow down for Zander as he took in the sight of her, his sharp Falcoran eyes missing nothing. Shiny, pale blue hair in a thick braid, with some sort of pink flower ornament in it. Clear green eyes sparkled with bits of gold, her soft pink lips plump and gently curved. She wore a pastel pink t-shirt tucked into faded jeans that gently hugged her slender form, and lightly scuffed white sneakers.
He was absolutely certain that he’d never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. He did his best to capture every detail of her, suddenly afraid that he’d never see her again. One step before passing out of their view she suddenly stopped, her body stiffening. She turned her head to look toward the road so sharply that her long thick braid swung around and hit the window. Then she took off running.
Zander was out of his chair in an instant, using Air in an attempt to exit the café as quickly a
s possible. He was forced to slow down because of a group of people blocking the doorway. Eventually he managed to get out of the café, through the crowd that was gathering on the sidewalk, and onto the road.
He stopped when he spotted the young woman standing right in the middle of the road, her back to him. Zach and Zain joined him in attempting to assess the situation.
A tall, pudgy man with a thick black beard and greasy hair hovered several feet above the ground, his eyes all but bulging from his head as he spewed all manner of filthy words and vile threats. Zander was furious that any man would say such things in front of the women and children who made up a good portion of the growing crowd.
Zain had taken two steps toward the man, his eyes nearly glowing with anger, which surprised Zander immensely. A flare of hope ran through him to see Zain’s strong emotional reaction, and he immediately decided not to interfere.
Before Zain had a chance to say or do anything, however, a tall broad shouldered man with slashing golden eyes and long black hair stepped out of the crowd and approached the young woman. He waved casually at the foul-mouthed man who immediately stopped speaking. His mouth was open, and he was still making unpleasant grunting noises, but the Air gag effectively prevented further bile from leaving his tongue.
“Hello Bean,” he said, stopping beside the young woman. Zander was more surprised that the young woman’s name was Bean than he was by the sudden appearance of Prince Garen.
The young woman…Bean…looked up at the Prince, a touch of strain around her eyes. “Hi, Uncle Garen.”
“What happened here?”
Bean’s forehead creased in what appeared to be confusion, then smoothed. “This man just struck a woman holding a very small child. When she cried out, he kicked her hard enough to send her almost all the way to the sidewalk.” She shook her head as though trying to understand how anyone could do such a thing. “Then he ran over there and was about to kick her again, but I couldn’t let him do that so I…well…I raised him up off the ground.”
Bean's Heart (Hearts of ICARUS Book 7) Page 8
