“Tell me everything,” he requested and Penny scoffed.
“If we’re playing by your idiotic rules, you should at least answer Penny’s question first!” Annette argued, her anger evident.
Argent studied her until Annette’s anger deflated and she fizzled back into an annoyed and embarrassed silence.
Argent looked away from them, propping his chin on his hand as he spoke. “The way I see it, you owe me quite a bit…I don’t have to let you stay here. I didn’t have to use the last bit of my Whirlwind Water, which was very expensive I might add, to transport us here, and honestly you are not entitled to my help in any way.” He let his words resonate for a moment. “Disregarding that, I really do hate to see a person in trouble―that and I’m an avid fan of the theater,” he added, pointing toward the wall where his patchwork of ticket stubs had been tacked up. “Now, if you’re quite finished being obstinate, I’d like to hear the story, please.”
“Why do you want to know so badly? It doesn’t really concern you,” Penny argued, trying to sound casual.
“Seeing as how you’re all in my house with a dying friend and have little else than the clothes on your back, I would say that it rather does concern me. I’m not risking my neck if you’re going to get me negative attention from the law. And by the way, lying isn’t an option,” he replied, taking something that looked like a coin out of his pocket and setting it down on the table in front of him.
Annette gasped, scandalized. “You are not supposed to have that! Those are for rangers only! How did you even get one?” she squawked.
Argent laughed and leaned closer to her. “I make them for the rangers, Little Miss,” he informed her, and Annette backed down again, huffing.
Wondering why they were getting into a tizzy over such a little object, Penny turned her attention to inspect it. It was round and flat like a disc, a crescent moon on one side. Noting her interest, Argent gestured for her to pick it up. Penny lifted it between her thumb and forefinger, flipping it over to study the three colored stars in a line, one green, one blue, and one red, each color looking murky against the black background.
“Say something to it,” Argent prompted, seeming taken with Penny’s curiosity. Annette remained incensed as Penny cleared her throat and spoke to the coin.
“Erm…my name is Penelope Fairfax,” she stated, and the green star on the coin lit up.
Argent smiled and took it back. “It’s a Lamia Lumen, but in layman’s terms this is known as an Inquisitor’s Eye. They were once used publicly, sold in the streets to anyone with yuebells enough―but apparently people couldn’t deal with knowing the absolute truth all the time. Too many lives were lost and too many good things were destroyed over these. Because of all the fuss, many of the countries, including the Nations of Men and Goblins, outlawed them except for formal interrogation purposes. The nature of intelligent beings is a miserable thing, isn’t it? Worlds such as ours cannot live without lies.” Argent’s smile was bitter as he looked at the coin.
“You see, the green star lights up when someone is telling the truth, the red for a lie, and the blue for a bit of both.”
Penny nodded and leaned closer to Annette, getting an idea. Argent watched them.
“Can you―” Penny whispered, about to ask whether she could use her gift of persuasion to convince Argent to forget all about his interest in their story, but Annette was shaking her head.
“I’m just too exhausted. I don’t think I could manage it, even if I really needed to,” Annette whispered back. Penny chewed her lip and turned back to Argent for one last effort at trying to sway him.
“We’ve been through so much tonight, and we’re too worried about Hector to focus. Anyway, aren’t you tired? It’s near dawn!”
Argent scoffed. “I’m always tired. I’ve got to open up the shop in a couple of hours―no point in falling asleep now.” He shrugged and sighed. “Well, I guess if you’re not interested in sharing, neither am I. I’ll just tell the priestesses they’re no longer needed and I’ll show you all to the door. Good meeting you, Little Miss Annette. I’ve always been a huge fan.” He grinned at her and Annette rose to her feet in a fury, slamming her hands down on the table.
“You’re awful!” she cried, fresh tears swimming in her eyes. Argent chuckled, his expression portraying amusement, but Penny thought she detected the slightest hint of panic in his eyes.
“Look, I want to help you, but I know there’s something strange here. Especially with you three.” Argent pointed at Penny, then to Simon, and then up the staircase, obviously referring to Hector. “You three don’t belong here. I can feel it.”
Penny choked on her tea. “What? How could you possibly―”
“Because he’s a crafter, Penny,” Annette answered for her, sounding rather bitter.
Argent nodded with approval. “Brilliant assessment, Little Miss.” He smiled. “Perhaps I should give you more credit. Was it the comment about the Inquisitor’s Eye?”
“I could tell from the second I saw you. Your hair, your eyes…I’ve never seen such obvious features,” Annette said, a hard edge to her voice. Penny must have looked as lost as she felt because Annette turned back to explain.
“You can tell a crafter because of their hair and eyes―even their skin or teeth, maybe. They sometimes have an unusual color or quality to them, owing to the high amount of magic that’s in their bodies.” Annette turned back to Argent, her eyes narrowed. “Generally the more magic they’re able to manipulate, the more distinct their features are.”
Argent half-bowed from his sitting position.
“I still don’t understand how he can…” Penny left off, not wanting to say anything concrete to confirm Argent’s theory about the three of them not belonging in Elydria.
“It’s because he can feel the magic around us. Crafters know where it is, how to use it, how they can change it…he can probably sense that you, Simon, and Hector are giving off a different magical field than the rest of us, isn’t that right?” Annette looked at the crafter.
“Precisely,” Argent agreed, looking impressed. “You know, I expected you to be obnoxious, but I never would have guessed that you would be smart, too,” he teased Annette, and she glowered back at him. “She’s spot on, though―I can feel your buddy over there sucking up all the used up magic in this area as he sleeps.” Argent looked over at Simon on the floor.
Penny recalled Hector’s theory about magic of Elydria becoming the raw material for dreams. “The magic’s getting changed into something else—something like a different color, or a different shape. It’s floating around you especially, Penelope. Did you know?” Argent raised his brow.
“Perhaps,” Penny hedged, shocked at the uncanny similarity between both Hector and Argent’s grasp on how magic functioned.
“Now listen. I’m willing to make you a fantastic offer here…if you tell me your story and agree to help me with a few harmless experiments after your friend up there is in a more fit condition―if he survives―I’ll let you stay here for free until you’re ready to move on. I guarantee you won’t find safer quarters in Hulver.”
“Will you help us find the airstation and the palace while keeping me safely hidden here?” Annette bargained, her eyes narrowing in a fiery gaze.
“Certainly.”
“And you won’t breathe a word? Some very unsavory folks have it out for us―you should probably know that, too,” Penny added, knowing that Annette would accidentally-on-purpose fail to warn him about the danger. Argent thought it over for a minute, then shrugged.
“I suppose I’m going to die at some point anyway―I might as well do something interesting on the way,” he concluded.
“Then you’ve got yourself a deal.” Penny reached out to shake his hand, a gesture he did not understand. She lowered her palm, feeling awkward.
“Now, let’s hear this story before I have to get to work.”
Annette and Penny looked at each other with tired eyes. Not seeing a
ny way around it with Hector’s condition, Penny started at the beginning.
AFTER HOURS OF Argent asking very detailed questions, policing them with the Inquisitor’s Eye and snapping his fingers in their faces to keep them awake longer, they fulfilled their end of the bargain. Argent seemed very interested in the magic they could perform, more so than the events that surrounded them.
“If this is true…I think…yes, that might work,” he mumbled as he chewed on the ends of his stubby fingernails. He stood up and headed toward the door at the far end of the room, stopping just before going in to speak Penny and Annette.
“Make yourselves at home. Take whatever you need, just don’t break anything. Also I would advise not going outside―goblins won’t take kindly to a pair of young girls covered in blood. Bathroom’s upstairs. You’ll be expected to compensate me for anything you eat or drink,” he said and entered the other room. Penny caught a glimpse of another messy space before Argent shut the door.
Annette rose wearily from the table to look out at the light streaming in through the brilliant windows. All of the windows in Argent’s house seemed to be made of collections of jewel-bright pieces of stained glass. Penny peered over Annette’s shoulder.
Outside, Penny saw the front door of Argent’s tiny home led directly to a flight of stairs, which stretched down to a shop-front of a most bedazzling variety. Beyond the storefront was a smoggy city with tightly wound streets, trafficked by goblins talking and pushing wheelbarrows.
“We’re really here. We made it to Hulver,” Annette breathed, gazing out with wonder at the small glimpse the view offered of the city. Penny stayed quiet for a moment as she stared out at the world beyond, her head fuzzy and her mind miles away from where she stood.
“What are we going to do Annette?” she asked in a small voice. Annette turned and sighed.
“We’re really here. We made it to Hulver,” Annette breathed, gazing out with wonder at the small glimpse Argent’s stained glass window offered of the city. Penny stayed quiet for a moment as she stared out at the world beyond, her head fuzzy and her mind miles away from where she stood.
“What are we going to do Annette?” she asked in a small voice.
Annette turned and sighed. “I don’t know,” she whispered, looking as lost as Penny felt. “I thought this would be easy, you know? Gavin always makes everything look easy.”
Penny lowered her head, expecting this would be the moment where Annette would start to blame her for what had happened. In a twisted way, she almost wanted Annette to blame her; the uncomfortable fact had gone unsaid for too long. Penny sank into a weak squat and covered her face with her hands, the emotions within her brimming over the surface. A small, miserable noise escaped and Annette knelt down beside her, running a comforting hand up and down her back.
“I’m sorry. I never meant for this to happen…if it weren’t for me we’d all be fine. No one would be hurt and we’d be on our way to the castle without any trouble, but now we’re stuck here with this…creep. I should’ve just—how could I let this happen to you? To Hector? What’ll I do if he dies, Annette?” Penny half-sobbed, keeping her face covered. She bit down on her tongue hard to fend off the tears.
“It’s not your fault, Penny. You didn’t do it on purpose, and Hector’s going to be fine. We all are. I don’t know exactly how yet, but I know we’re gonna get out of this.” Annette peeled Penny’s hands away from her face and tipped her chin up. She smiled, and that alleviated Penny’s misery more than any of her prior words had done. Annette helped her up and led Penny to the corner where Simon still lay sleeping.
“Come on, let’s try and get some rest. I’m minutes away from passing out,” Annette said.
They produced a couple spare blankets and pillows from the mess of Argent’s house and curled up on the floor beside Simon. Annette fell asleep right away, but Penny found she could not so much as close her eyes. She stared at the bizarre compilation of lights and lanterns Argent had turned his ceiling into, her mind unable to shut off while Hector’s fate was uncertain.
Two hours after they had laid down, Argent emerged from the side room. Penny kept still and shut her eyes, hoping Argent would think she was asleep. He puttered around for a moment before leaving for the shop. Several minutes later Penny could hear clangs and thumps below her as Argent opened for business.
Another half hour crawled by and Penny fell into a pseudo-sleep, but her momentary sense of calm was upset by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Penny sprang to her feet, her entire body quivering. She watched two sets of goblin feet descend and waited at the bottom of the twisting stairs, her hands clutching her chest.
The first gobless, petite with shining white hair and milky eyes, halted when she noticed Penny. Penny’s stomach twisted with fright and she found she could not muster the ability to speak.
“Can understand goblin?” the priestess asked in botched Andronian.
Penny licked her dry lips and commanded her lungs to breathe. “Yes. Please, can you tell me…” she begged in Gobblish, unable to finish the sentence.
The gobless leaned forward, her expression unreadable. “Ah, yes. Your friend…”
It was quite a struggle,” the gobless said as she strode downstairs. “Argent called at the exact right time. If he’d waited any longer we would’ve lost him.”
“He’s okay?” Penny exhaled, feeling weak with relief. The first gobless nodded and gave a grin that would have looked terrifying at any other moment.
“He’ll probably make it,” the priestess said and patted Penny on the shoulder. She pulled a collection of flasks and bandages out from her bag and set them on the table. “Be certain that he drinks this medicine three times a day for at least a week, and avoid all types of exertion. By next week he should be back on his feet―as long as you don’t move him. Do not hesitate to call us back if his condition declines. Oh yes, and this all comes to one amethyst and two emerald yuebells,” the gobless reminded her and Penny experienced a twinge of panic. Hector’s wallet was currently miles away onboard the Royal Dirigible.
“Erm, Argent has money, I think,” Penny stammered, knowing that though it was an awful thing to do, she had no choice.
“Ooh, he’s not going to like that. Well, let’s go. Farewell.”
Penny shot up the spiral staircase and into Argent’s room. There was a desk piled with several well-loved books, assorted papers and a number of rather expensive and unusual objects. Penny saw a shimmering stone that looked to be made of brilliant green glass beside a box sealed shut by a lock. Next to them sat a jar of discolored jelly with something white and slimy suspended within, a pink glass mirror set with diamonds, and another puppet with a white face, tangled black hair, holes for eyes, and a dirty, smock-like dress the color of faded ink.
At the far end of the room, lying in Argent’s bed under a green quilt was Hector. Penny tiptoed over to him and saw that he was sleeping, a pained expression on his sallow face. His glasses were set on the bedside table, and Penny saw that in place of the shirt he wore a collection of blood-stained bandages.
For half an hour Penny stayed beside Hector, monitoring his condition. When he did not stir once, she stumbled over to the washroom nearby, longing for a bath. It took a great deal of washing to scrub the bloodstains, sand, and sea salt away.
Wrapping herself in a towel, Penny peered through the colorful windows in Argent’s bathroom to get another look at Hulver. Whereas Iverton had been orderly and clean, Hulver looked as if no amount of rhyme or reason had been bothered with in the design or construction of any structure in the entire city. The roads curved around off-kilter buildings and formed a veritable maze of pathways. Penny stepped down from the bathtub, looking at the bathroom walls. She ran her fingers over a painted moon and several images of galloping creatures and dragons winding around clouds and stars, figuring that Argent had painted them on the walls himself.
Back in the kitchen, deep exhaustion started to descend. In a daze Penny
wobbled over to the deflated heap of blankets and collapsed beside Annette. Without the nagging sense of anxiety gnawing at her, she fell into a dreamless sleep.
PENNY EMERGED FROM blissful nothingness to a loud crashing sound and leapt up with a start. As her eyes adjusted she saw Argent standing before her, eyeing her spastic reaction with a grin. She groaned in vexation and Argent laughed.
“Good morning, little sis. Though it should be ‘good evening’ now, I suppose.” On the kitchen table lay the source of the crash: her and Hector’s travelling bags, Simon’s collection of luggage and all of Annette’s suitcases.
Argent stepped over to Penny, a crooked grin on his pale face. “I’m pretty sure this is the part where you say ‘Thank you for carrying all our ridiculously heavy crap all the way from the Air Harbor, Argent! You’re the best!’” he mimicked, and Penny looked at him, nonplussed.
“You went and―? But how did you―”
“It’s not exactly hard to spot the Royal Dirigible of Iverton next to all the janky goblin airships. I just went aboard and told the captain that you all had found accommodations and would be out in the city for a while. He didn’t seem to be too concerned about what was happening, so I just went and picked up this stuff. Though I shouldn’t take all the credit, Hyde and Kasper did most of the work.” He shrugged, and Penny saw that he held Hyde and Kasper’s controls in either one of his hands. Argent’s lips curled back again and he made the two puppets dance around the floor, creating a display that was both humorous and disturbing to Penny.
“Thank you, Argent. That was very thoughtful of you,” she said, glad that she would have her clothes and possessions.
“Oh don’t get me wrong, I really just wanted the money for the priestesses back. By the way, I took the liberty of taking that from your friend’s wallet, along with a modest delivery charge. Hope you don’t mind,” Argent added and the warmth Penny had been feeling toward him vanished.
The Angel of Elydria (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 1) Page 29
