The Messengers Menagerie (The Courier Chronicles Book 1)

by Joey Anderle

Back up in the attic, Booker found himself lost. “Would you look at that, bigger on the inside.” He remarked tugging on the nearest rack, he weighed the idea of climbing to the rafter to get a better vantage point. “I mean, no harm if I don’t get caught.” He reasoned, careful with where his hands and feet found purchase, “Alleyoop,” he grunted. Carefully treading atop the racks, playing a self-indulgent game of I spy as he went along to keep himself preoccupied, “I spy with my little eye, something…” His eye caught an overflowing box containing watches, jewelry, and bracelets with padding at the bottom to keep them in safe condition, abandoned in this place. Booker grinned at the finding, “Something shiny.”

  He paused for a moment, combing his fingers through his hair, after lightly sifting through the box, “Well I can see why you’d want to stick all this in a box in the attic.” Booker quickly became depressed as his digging rewarded him nothing, but accessories that didn’t go with what he already had on.

  “Come on, there has to be at least something to go with these shoes,” Booker complained.

  On the brink of calling it a lost cause, a bracelet buckle caught Booker’s eye with its dull silver sheen. He let out a soft gasp as he pulled it from the pile. “Come my pretty,” he cackled inspecting it, “And it goes with the shoes!” Wrapping it around his left wrist. He pulled the strap to keep it snugly on his wrist. He modeled the bracelet for himself, “Welcome to my wardrobe.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Booker noted a door opening, freezing for the moment as he waited to react to whoever found their way up here.

  —

  Auralee took two steps into the attic, “Goodness Alphonse, why do you keep this place so dark?” Conjuring a red light in her hand to solve her issue, she continued into the room. The door shutting behind her spooked her. Auralee shuddered and straightened herself out, “Nothing but the breeze Aura, you are better than these childish fears.” Slowly she made her way into the maze, inspecting everything she could, attempting to dissect its reason.

  —

  Booker craned his head attempting to figure who decided to join him. Unsure which of the elves had meandered their way up top until a crimson light radiated from where the door was. “Hi Auralee,” He rubbed his hands together with a deep, conniving thought. “Oh man, if I spooked her up here with one of these antiques.” Booker looked around for the right tool for the job before suddenly halting his search, “I’d probably be dead before I would finish laughing.” He concluded. Attempting to move forward, a hapless step sent him flailing about as quietly as he could, knocking something over as he tried to regain his balance. Whatever he hit thudded heavily onto the floor.

  Across the room, Booker could watch Auralee’s reaction to the sound as her red light swung in his direction, “Hello? Booker?” Auralee called out, the orb moving through the grid-like maze

  “I’ll take that as my cue to get out of Dodge,” Booker pulled the leather strap to release the buckle, so he could slip it into his pocket, to no avail. He panicked inspecting the accessory to see what went wrong. Soon finding the prong of the buckle that threaded through the holes in the wrist strap had fused back with the buckle making it a single solid piece of metal, “Ooh shit,” Booker observed with a particular calm, “would you look at that.” While accepting his future fate of having to forever match some part of his outfit with the wrist wear, a shriek bounced off the walls from where Auralee was. Booker tensed himself as his head flooded with decisions, “Should I stay or should I go now?”

  —

  Auralee strolled down the aisles, making her way over to where she had heard the noise, “How does he have this much stuff?” She questioned after passing her hundredth vase, “What makes these special, what are these?” Auralee paused as she let her fingertips touch a smooth blue and white vase.

  “Ming vases,” Alphonse informed her from behind.

  She shrieked and straightened as her eyes shot open, sending her orb to the ceiling to explode in a brilliant light as her arms flung out knocking the vase over.

  Alphonse steadied the Princess with one arm and caught the vase with the other, “I would appreciate you not knocking over my beautiful things, Aura.”

  She took a steady breath, “You shouldn’t be sneaking up on your royalty,” Auralee scolded, “What brings you up here?”

  "Up here? To my attic, the attic which belongs to me where I keep my lovely things.” Alphonse glanced about his rather lofty attic he helped build so many years ago, that he owned. “Well, our courageous Bodyguard has slunk away somewhere up here,” Alphonse gave a quick glance around his labyrinth, “I hope.”

  —

  Booker heard Alphonse’s words while he moved from shelf to shelf, “What is Alphonse doing up in his attic?” Booker paused adjusting for a new plan, rolling his sleeves down his arms to cover up the bracelet he had managed to pick up along the way.

  —

  Down the aisles, Alphonse led Auralee through his rows of stuff and memories with the aid of another bright light, idly picking a couple of things off the shelf as they passed.

  Auralee glanced over as Alphonse ripped open a packet with his teeth, “What are you doing?” She asked him.

  “This can serve as a target practice opportunity,” He explained, with a twitch of his ears he whispered back to Auralee. “Now stop here,” Alphonse dumped the contents of the packet into the barrel of his pistol.

  “Why, how?” She wondered.

  “To make sure he doesn’t try this again,” Alphonse answered. “And by… just watch and learn.”

  Atop the rafters behind the duo, Booker remained still like a statue as he sought to figure what Alphonse was fiddling with in his hands, Rubik’s Cube perhaps? Either which way, once they turned from the aisle where they were currently standing he was in the clear to slink back into the cabin and wait. He could already imagine himself sitting in one of the chairs like a megalomaniac villain, waiting to twirl around and tell them about his evil shark pool with lasers.

  But why were they still standing there?

  Booker’s brows arched as he heard a familiar metallic click, like the sound of someone cocking a gun and then Alphonse turned around, pointing something at him in a dueling pose as something clicked again.

  Alphonse gave his final words, “Good night, Sterling.”

  Reanimated in a flash, the confused Booker put a hand up in defense as he begged, “No, Alphonse!” Diving off the rafter as Alphonse pulled the trigger and ignited the gunpowder in his pistol. The sound of a gunshot deafened the room, and a large puff of smoke appeared as Booker's body thudded onto the floor.

  “WHAT WAS THAT JACKASS!” The mass of Booker on the floor cried out.

  “What have I told you about using my attic?” Alphonse questioned, placing his finger on the side of the gun as he inspected it.

  “YOU SHOT ME!” Booker responded.

  “I shot at you,” Alphonse corrected, “I didn’t load anything more than powder.”

  “That gun must be as ancient as you; it could’ve exploded in your hand!” Booker sounded frustrated as he picked himself off the floor

  “I’ve kept up with it after all these years, it served well during my days in the Continental Army.” Alphonse walked to Booker, setting his flintlock pistol on a nearby shelf cap. “It also came out of retirement to serve you a lesson.”

  “This is why we have so many issues,” Booker started to turn away and walk.

  Alphonse put a hand on his shoulder, twisting him back around and then pulling him close by the collar of his shirt, “We are having issues because some of us can’t grow up for a minute and accept responsibilities for one's mistakes and move on to improve.” He growled at Sterling

  Booker attempted to show no reaction, but his breathing gave away his concern, his eyes looked down, and he sagged his shoulders, “Yes sir, sorry sir.”

  Alphonse let go of Sterling and brushed his shoulders to get rid of the wrinkles his grip had formed, “Splendid.”
<
br />   Auralee finally spoke up, “I would like to remind you, gentlemen, we still have my kidnappers to worry about, and after some thought, perhaps more.”

  Booker's head tilted and looked at Auralee from over Alphonse’s shoulder, with her statement. Booker's eyes slid to the side looking at Alphonse, “I want danger pay.”

  “That’s nice,” Alphonse turned sideways and offered a hand for Aura, “Let us discuss this in my living room please.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Auralee watched as Alphonse and Sterling went back and forth in a heated discussion she didn’t have much knowledge about. She thought it was something important as there was no other reason for their tones to match the voices she heard when politics became rather tense at home.

  “I am not driving a damn Edsel!” Booker shook his head and made a gesture with his arm to strike out the idea of driving such a failure.

  “That’s a nice opinion you have,” Alphonse answered.

  “What did I do to deserve this?” Booker paraded around the living room.

  “You jumped on my roof then climbed down into my private attic,” Alphonse dangled the set of car keys.

  “What have I done recently?” Booker corrected.

  Alphonse turned and looked at the clock, one eyebrow raised, “That was maybe twenty minutes ago!”

  “We’ve already dealt with that,” Booker shrugged his shoulders and looked at Alphonse innocently, “water under the bridge.”

  “You still have my Condo keys,” Alphonse pointed out.

  Fishing them out of his pockets Booker flashed them at Alphonse, “I will trade you these keys,”

  “My keys.”

  “These keys,” Booker continued, “For, andIAmMeetingYouInTheMiddleHere…a Ferrari?”

  “How the hell is a Ferrari meeting me in the middle?” Alphonse asked, incredulous.

  “Alright fine, Lambo.”

  “No,” Alphonse rejected.

  “Beamer?” Booker offered

  “Nope.”

  “Benz.”

  “Wrong.”

  Booker pursed his lips, humming with indecision, “Alright, you talked me down, Tesla.”

  “Give me the keys or, get this, you walk.” Alphonse smiled at Booker who hid behind Auralee’s chair.

  “Mmm,” Booker made a sour face as he looked away, “But I would be walking out with a new Condo.” He pointed out to Alphonse.

  Auralee looked up at Booker, leaning on her chair with the keys loosely swaying in his hands. Rolling her eyes, she snagged the keys and tossed them to Alphonse quick enough that Alphonse almost didn’t react fast enough to catch them and it took Booker a moment to realize he no longer held the keys that were now soaring through the air.

  “You two are like my brothers, always bickering about something.” She sighed as she took command of the situation with the natural tendencies of royalty. “We still have another day before I am allowed back into my home, and until just recently our biggest concern was a perpetually distracted guard.” She glanced over her shoulder at Booker as she finished the sentence. Booker noticed her stare and looked over his shoulder into the kitchen to try and see who Auralee was talking about. She rolled her eyes and continued, “Now, we know someone or something is attempting to kidnap me,” She looked to Alphonse, “So with the remaining time we have today, what can we get done to confront the threat by tomorrow?”

  Alphonse combed his fingers through his hair, “We don’t need to confront the threat, just put the threat at ease.” He answered.

  Booker kept his left arm socked away in his jacket pocket doing all his gesturing with his right to hide the borrowed wrist wear, “Well I don’t know about you, but having a bounty out for me doesn’t make me want to look for peace negotiations.”

  Auralee frowned, “Why would the bounty be out for you and not me, sure you’ve made a splash, but nothing significant enough to warrant a full-fledged bounty.”

  Alphonse came in to fill in the gaps, “Well, whoever put out the hit likely knows you’re with him. My thought is there's a wink to go along with the description of who the actual target is.”

  “Makes sense,” Auralee nodded, “It would be foolish to put a contract out specifically for a Princess, but her bodyguard that isn’t a bodyguard…”

  “Hey,” Booker butted in offended.

  “You just hid in my attic for a solid 15 minutes to avoid walking through the front door,” Alphonse shut him down. “Whoever it is, has resources and is willing to use them, but why, what is there to gain?”

  It was Auralee’s turn to look at Alphonse offended, “What do they have to gain, from kidnapping a Princess?”

  With a horizontal wave, he shut Auralee down too, “Is it kidnap or kill, this information is surprisingly relevant.”

  “Yes,” Booker answered. Rewarded with a scowl from Alphonse, Booker continued, “At least from what I’ve heard.”

  The tall elf squinted down to Booker, “Heard from where? Haven’t you been pursued the entire time?”

  “Ahm,” The human scratched the back of his head with his left hand and turned away. “Delvar and Mordecai,” He muttered.

  “I’m sorry who,” Alphonse leaned in, turning his head to exaggerate his anticipation.

  “A pair of Freelancers that were sent after us,” He admitted, “I managed to incapacitate them for a moment and asked a couple of questions.”

  Auralee rolled her eyes. If by incapacitate you mean pull them out of the wreckage, she thought to herself.

  “Where did you bury their bodies?” Alphonse tapped his chin trying to figure it out.

  Auralee’s face became smug, crossing her arms as she turned to Booker, Yeah Booker, her eyebrows seemed to question him, where did we bury the bodies?

  Booker peered back at Auralee’s expression before turning back to Alphonse, “There were no bodies to bury.”

  “Did they go through the effort to conjure assassins?” Alphonse looked to Auralee, perplexed.

  The Princess raised her finger up to explain; however, Booker managed to get his question in much faster than she could answer Alphonses question.

  “Wait!” Booker's head snapped to Aura, his eyes wide with excitement, “You can conjure things?”

  “Yes, and they typically dissipate or disintegrate when terminated,” Alphonse looked back at the Runner. “Which you would have known had you killed them, so how were there no bodies?”

  And I might’ve gotten away with it too had I not opened my mouth, Booker lamented. “Because I let them go,” He confessed, “I saw no reason to put in all the extra effort for such little gain.”

  “What extra effort?” Alphonse wondered aloud.

  “Digging holes is hard work, dammit!” Booker slammed his left hand atop the nearest couch to accent his point.

  The duo of elves rolled their eyes at him.

  "Stop hitting things," Alphonse told him, “So we have a pair of Freelancers running about who know there's a bounty out on you, and so you let them off because digging holes is hard?”

  “Well when you put it like that,” Booker's eyes looked for an exit out of this situation.

  “Then again, we can’t solve every situation with ‘kill all the baddies’ like we were in some paranormal science fiction book,” The senior elf reasoned out, “Perhaps they could become of use later down the line.”

  Booker hummed, nodded along with what Alphonse said, attempting to stay out of trouble if he could.