“Obviously. Room 421,” Darius said.
“So not too far from us,” Odeon said.
“I’ll find her, wherever she is in the resort. Wander around, check out the haunts. Grab a few drinks. Some tacos or ramen. Check out the beach. I mean, this is work. But I’m afraid there are no shortcuts when it comes to locating a mark. Once I find her, I’ll let you know, Holly and Odeon. Check her room. Find the Skelty Key, bam, we’re out of here.”
“Sounds so simple.” Holly opened her bag, intending to change her attire. She’d brought clothes for sunnier, resort weather. To blend in.
“But it won’t be.” Odeon went to a mirror and tied his silver hair up into a bun on the crown of his head. It was a traditional Druiviin look, and Holly could only guess that seeing his parents brought back all the old monoliths that loomed in his head. Perhaps he lived far away from them to escape that pressure. She hadn’t seen him smile once since they’d arrived.
Shiro laughed. “Not at all, it never is. But let’s go from there. First let’s put on our resort attire. Odeon, you didn’t bring any luggage, so I’m not quite sure what you intend, chap.”
“I have clothing here.” He said, avoiding their gazes. He disappeared out through the door of their room.
Holly glanced at Shiro. “He seems different, here. Have you noticed?”
“Yes. Well, I get what he might be feeling. I always feel like a child when my parents barge into my life. I assumed that’s what he’s been feeling since they showed up.”
“I’ve never seen him put his hair up.”
Shiro opened his bag and pulled out a pair of white linen pants and a black short-sleeved shirt. It was like nothing she’d ever seen on him—he was always so formal. He took his vest off, then unbuttoned his dress shirt and removed it. Beneath his clothing his body was lean, yet muscled. Holly stared for a second, realized she was staring, and looked away uncomfortably. Shiro had always seemed so . . . so ridiculous and soft. Honestly she’d not even thought of him as a man, just a bit of a goof who took himself too seriously. It was unfair, in a way, that he was so normal beneath his clothes.
“Ms. Drake, I can see you staring. Or trying to not stare,” he said, pulling the shirt over his head.
“It’s not my fault. You’ve got a normal body beneath your costume,” she said, though she blushed. She busied herself with her own clothes. Prison had made her less cautious and private about her own nudity. But suddenly, having noticed that Shiro was . . . a man . . . she was suddenly extremely aware of what a woman she was. And then she began to painfully recall how little she’d been touched or held since Graf. And even with Graf, it had stopped being fulfilling and comfortable years ago. So. So. Long ago. So little . . . physical, intimate touch.
“Uh,” she cleared her throat. “I need to use the facilities.” She said, grabbing her bag and heading into the bathroom, where she shut the door. She swore she heard a soft chuckle from Shiro, both in her earpiece and in the room. She pulled out her communicator and muted the microphone.
“What’s going on there?” Darius asked.
“Nothing unusual, I assure you,” Shiro said. “Just the usual, actually. Holly is changing into her clothes, safely locked away in the lavatory.”
“What did you do?” Darius demanded.
Charly popped in too, ”Shiro, you better not have touched her.”
“I haven’t so much as laid a pinky finger on her. Relax.”
God this was embarrassing. Holly changed out of her traveling clothes quickly and dressed into a tank top and Bermuda shorts. Then she turned her mic back on. “Holly here, guys, shut up. Everything is fine. Shiro didn’t touch me. I didn’t touch Shiro. I gave him some privacy to change his clothes.”
She left the bathroom, leaving her bag in there, and then went out onto the balcony. Odeon was already out there. She sat in a chair next to him.
Shiro poked his head out to tell them he was going in search of their mark.
“Keep us in the loop,” Holly said.
“Will do.”
TWENTY-NINE
SHIRO was unable to find their mark the entire day.
Or so he said.
Holly had a hard time thinking he’d actually jeopardize their pay-out by feigning looking for her. He went everywhere. At first Odeon and Holly stayed in the room, waiting to hear from Shiro so they could make their move.
And then, after two hours of people watching, dozing, and then soaking in the room’s private hot tub (for her headache), Odeon and Holly went for a walk out to the beach.
Shiro periodically checked in.
“Maybe we’ll find her before Shiro,” Holly said to Odeon as they got drinks at a cabana bar. “Bloody Mary.”
“Not water?” Odeon asked, squinting at her against the afternoon sunlight.
“What are you, my conscience?” Holly asked with a clipped laugh. Laughing still hurt. In fact, the hangover headache had crept down into her shoulders and try as she might, it seemed impossible to release the tension. She was longing for Odeon to touch her and work some of his magic, but fuck that. She was sick of needing people.
He blinked and looked offended. “I’m sorry Holly, I just thought you were still suffering from last night, when you got drunk so that you didn’t need my help.” He sighed. Then lifted his gaze to look at the female bartender, a Constie. “Xachot Branco, please.”
“I do still have a headache. But humans think that a Bloody Mary helps a hangover.”
“That seems unlikely, since the hangover is from dehydration, and a Bloody Mary has high salt content, plus alcohol. It will dehydrate you more.”
“Odeon,” Holly said, shaking her head as she took her drink from the bartender. “Thank you. Er, so Odeon, what is your training in, anyway?”
“Like my parents, I’m trained to heal with both song and simple medicinal treatments.” He wouldn’t look at her. The bartender handed him his drink. And Holly began strolling out to the beach, sipping the Bloody Mary. Odeon joined her, but still avoided her gaze.
“Is that what your parents are doing here?”
“Something like that.”
“Is that why you left and went to Kota?”
He didn’t say anything. Instead, Odeon sipped his drink and looked around, as though he hadn’t heard her. Holly bristled, but then, she could understand having secrets. Or just not being ready to tell someone how you felt about things. Or what had happened in your past that was so terrible.
As they strolled along, Holly kept her eyes open for Aimee Voss, and considered the silence, the beauty of the bay, and Odeon’s solemnity.
For all her experience living among the different races, she felt completely uneducated about them. Centau were too above humans, and Druiviin were simply rarer. Consties and humans were considered by both the Centau and Druiviin to be on the same level, morally speaking. Meaning that if someone was going to break the codes of civilization, it would be the Consties and humans before it was ever the other two.
So mixing with them was just an unusual thing to do. Odeon hanging out with Holly and the rest of the crew was unique and somewhat flattering. It was like being chosen. It made her feel special, to have a Druiviin think she was important enough to stick around with, to look out for, and care about enough to put a hand on her back or sing to her when she felt like shit.
God, she sounded like a wounded puppy.
They passed the edge of the groomed area of the resort property and crossed a road that belonged to the larger city that the resort resided within. The buildings clustering around the edges of the resort property were a white stucco with brilliant cobalt blue domes for roofs. A cat crossed their path. Seeing it reminded Holly of her honeymoon, the last time she’d been to the island on Itzcap. There were stray cats everywhere, lazing about in the sun.
She understood Odeon’s reluctance to talk about what he was feeling. But because Holly knew so little still about the general familial culture of the Druiviin she wasn’t su
re if what Odeon had done by leaving them and moving to Kota was such a terrible thing to do. Was his quiet, somberness at seeing them normal, as well? Was it just unheard of for a Druiviin child to not constantly do his parents’ bidding?
Odeon had adopted the traditional Druiviin bachelor male hairstyle and the same kind of resort clothing his parents were wearing. The surprising thing there was that the outfit was even still in their rooms. He wore a pair of sandals, long, puffy colorful shorts that belled out over his knees, and a close fitting white top. It was like hanging around a villager from a backwards town. He sipped his drink when they got to the beach where rows of lounging chaises were lined up.
“What should we do?” Holly asked thinking he might have a better idea where to go or what to do to make it more likely that they’d find their mark. “She might be anywhere. You know this place, it seems. Like, maybe you grew up here?”
“I suspect we won’t find her till dinner. She’s likely to be in some kind of resort healing ceremony. And if she’s hiding out, then she’s most likely still in her rooms. Which means she may come out for the evening performance and dinner. And,” he sighed. “She may not.”
“And in that case? What? We break into her rooms and hope she’s just out and we’re lucky?”
“Perhaps yes,” Odeon said. “Otherwise, this job won’t get done.”
Darius had kept on their cases, until it was night on Kota. He was sleeping now. Which was a blessed relief, because Holly had no idea how to speed up the process of finding her, short of breaking into her rooms without Shiro having her pinned down.
Holly found an empty chaise and reclined on it. Odeon paced beside her rather than relaxing himself. “Odeon, for the love of god, we’re in a resort. A spa. Can’t you sit down and take a breather?”
“For others, this is a place of relaxation. Not for me.”
“Why not? What the hell?” She knew that her brusque, attacking tone was unlikely to yield the results she wanted, so she sighed and stood up. “Let’s go.”
“Where?” He asked, his eyes narrowing as he watched her warily.
“Anywhere you want.”
“Into the village?”
“Sure,” she said.
They backtracked across the sandy pink beach to the narrow road and hailed a bike cab, boarded the first one to stop, and headed into the village.
“What if Shiro finds her?” Odeon asked as they jostled along.
“I doubt he will. Or he has and he’s been keeping it from us.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I’ve no idea.”
Shiro cleared his throat in Holly’s earpiece. “Chaps. I can hear you. Still haven’t found her. Will keep you posted. Think it’s going to be later before I can locate this sneaky mark.”
“Yes, keep us informed, Shiro. We’re both starting to think you’re sabotaging the mission,” Holly said, touching her ear. He muttered a snarky affirmative response. Then Holly turned to Odeon in the cab. “You like this village, eh?”
He avoided her gaze. “The resort is the last place I want to be. I don’t have fond memories of growing up there.” And that was all he would say on the matter.
The rest of the ride through the narrow, twisty road was done in relative silence. But Holly felt like it was less a punishment from her Druiviin friend than a break from the duress he’d been feeling at the resort. It was strange—such a lovely place for him to hate it so much. What could have transpired there that would make him loathe it so drastically?
The village itself was built into the coast on the other side of the bay from the resort. White stucco buildings with vivid cobalt blue roofs hugged the steep hillside. Cats lounged on walkways and stucco fences. Constie and human children ran and played through the street, laughing and shouting and kicking balls. Odeon’s face began to brighten and his smile returned. Seeing him relaxing again made the tension melt from her own shoulders. The saying was that the Centau architects had modeled many of the city and villages located throughout the 6-moons on actual places from the homeworlds of the various races. But Holly had never gotten the chance to ask them. And since she’d been born and raised in the 6-moons, she had no memories of Earth.
“What’s to see here? What shall we do now? These are your next two hours, till dinner, Odeon.”
He stared at her briefly, blinked, and then leaned forward to shout something about ‘city center’ to the cab driver.
Holly leaned back and took in the view, wishing that she had the luxury to enjoy the trip rather than feeling the stress of a time-crunch. All of this resort experience would be much more relaxing if she didn’t have a deadline looming. She needed to finish the stupid job for the money—otherwise she’d be trapped living with Meg and Lucy forever, which despite how much she loved her sister, sounded like fucking torture. But that not might be the worst to happen if she failed at the job.
What would happen if they didn’t get the amulet back? Would it be a scolding and “you’ll never work in this city again” or would it be something much worse? That thought reminded her of the gun nestled against her back. She had to keep wearing a loose shirt or jacket over it to keep it concealed, and today she’d donned a classic vacation shirt, but of course she hadn’t brought one because prison. She still only had two outfits since getting out. Before going anywhere, she’d slipped into a high end resort shop and bought one, then returned to their rooms to get her gun and put it on.
The road and cab rose until it crested a hill and swung inland slightly, widening into a town square with a fountain in the center and shops arranged around the edge of the square. Above the shops were apartments. The cab stopped in front of a shop with a cafe sign over it and Odeon got out. He took a breath and exhaled, then straightened his shoulders, ran a hand over his hair as though to check, and went inside. Holly followed him as the cab rode away with the ding of a bell.
Inside, the cafe opened up into a shop with pastries and espresso, kasè, and various types of tea. There were guests seated at tables, chattering away or reading. The air was relaxed and an ocean breeze swept in off the coast from an open back wall, where windows and double doors stood open to let in the setting sun. Odeon went to the counter and ordered a tea, and asked Holly what she wanted. A kasè, and then he muttered something in a native Druiviin language and then went out to the patio to sit at a table overlooking the bay. Holly followed him, choosing to not hold it against him that he was so distracted. Around them guests of all races mingled, talking incessantly, happily. Holly had never seen anything like it. Consties and Druiviins. Centau and humans. It was like the barriers that separated them vanished inside the cafe.
The server brought their drinks out to them and said something to Odeon in a Druiviin tongue and then left. Odeon sipped his tea. “She’ll be out in a moment.”
“Who will?” Holly asked, sipping her kasè.
“You’ll see.”
Had Odeon left behind a lover? The mother of his child, who he’d also left behind? Holly’s mind ran rampant with hundreds of scenarios where Odeon was an unfaithful lover or deadbeat father. Most of them seemed completely uncharacteristic of the quiet, gentle person who currently sat across from her. But having made the terrible decision of marrying Graf, who’d seemed like a complete saint, Holly knew that appearances were only thin veneers that concealed the sometimes vast darkness that lived in a person.
That was when an elderly but spry female Druiviin came out of the cafe. She wore casual linens and her silvery hair was dark with age. She wore it flowing to her shoulders, with a smattering of braids, and her eyes were bright and vivid, while a faint smile played at the corners her mouth. Light from the waters of the bay seemed to dance across her ageless face. It was only the color of her hair that confessed her age—it was the opposite of how age manifested in humans.
“My Odeon,” the woman said. “Is it really you?”
He stood up and hugged the woman. He spoke to her in their language and she responde
d. There was a back and forth where Holly listened, but understood none of it. Their expressions flitted from concerned to irritated then brightened back to open and friendly.
Holly sipped her kasè and watched the other guests, suspecting that at some point all would be revealed. For now she’d settled on that the woman was some kind of relative. Or a mentor. Someone who he loved and appreciated more than his parents.
“Holly Drake,” Odeon finally said in English. “This is my grandmother, and this is her cafe. I passed much of my childhood here.”
Holly stood and exchanged the customary cheek-kisses and then sat back down. “Holly Drake, lovely to meet you. Odeon tells me so much about you.”
“Does he? It’s just Holly,” she said with a smile. “Yes, wonderful to meet you. Your cafe is simply breathtaking.”
“Ah, thank you.”
She sat down for a bit and chatted with them. Mostly Holly just listened as they finally conversed in English—solely for her benefit, Holly suspected.
And then the sun had dropped until the calm waters of the blue bay nearly swallowed it and it was time to leave. Odeon said goodby to his grandmother and Holly thanked her for the drink and the chance to meet her. They hailed another cab, and soon the two of them were sitting inside it, on their way back to the resort.
Before Odeon could close up and withdraw again, Holly took his hand and held it for just a moment.
THIRTY
IT wasn’t a romantic gesture. And Odeon seemed not to take it that way—she was glad, and then she let go. While he hadn’t told her what bothered him so much about the resort and his parents, Holly could sense something. She felt she’d put the pieces together and understood at least a small portion of what he might be feeling. She muted her mic and gestured for Odeon to mute his.
When his was also muted, she said, “So, this isn’t anything. You don’t have to tell me. I get it. We all have shit in our past that troubles us. I have mine. You have yours. And if you ever want to tell me, I’ll listen. But I want you to feel like you have an ally once we’re back at the resort.”
Eye of the Colossus Page 19
