[Infinity's End] Edge of Tomorrow - Ch 10
Jun. 30th, 2010 12:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
n_wilkinsonTitle: The Edge of Tomorrow
Series: Infinity's End, Book One
Summary: Ione makes a difficult decision when her allies call for her imprisonment, forcing her to flee for her life. In the hands of the Theravada, she meets Gale Arlen, rumored leader of the rebels, and learns what it truly means to choose a side.
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22)
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Chapter Ten
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Ione was beginning to think she was lost. She swore she’d passed that overly simplistic painting twice already, and all the halls looked the same. She was loath to ask for directions and flagging down the nearest rebel wasn't at all appealing.
Talya had dropped off clothes earlier and quickly vanished again, leaving behind vague directions to a place Ione could procure a meal. Ione had thought she followed them exactly, but when she ended up staring at a dead end somewhere in the deep recesses of Paragon, she knew she’d taken a wrong turn. And now, she couldn't even find her original starting point.
Frustrating.
“Any ideas?” Ione asked Aponi, but the butterfly was seemingly content to watch Ione wander in endless circles.
“Not a one,” Aponi replied cheerfully.
Ione sighed and paused in the middle of a four-way intersection, each hall looking exactly the same as the one she’d just investigated. Planting her hands on her hips, Ione glared at first one and then the next.
Nothing.
“I’ll bet that I’m not anywhere near the kitchens,” she muttered and picked a hall at random – the left – before shoving her hands in her pockets. “Otherwise, I'd be able to smell the food.”
Behind her, she heard a click and rattle, the sound of a door opening. Ione paused to glance at the corridor she’d just left and found a familiar face slipping out of a door. She debated for all of five seconds before turning to flag him down.
Sabriel noticed her immediately, no doubt keyed in to her footsteps. And Ione was momentarily captivated by the sight of the large dog that trotted out after him. He – at least she assumed the dog was male – was beautiful. Tall and sleek, all lithe muscle and dark fur. A hound of some sort, though Fenris would probably know far better.
“Your familiar?” Ione questioned without so much as a greeting, curiosity overwhelming her.
It was surreal to see so many spirits in a short time frame. It felt like she’d entered another world. One filled with rainbows and bunny rabbits and head wounds. She mustn’t forget that last part.
Sabriel chuckled, dropping his hand to pat the dog on the head and scratch behind his ears. “This is Anubis,” he introduced. “And yes, he has deigned to grace me with his powers.”
Anubis' ears flicked. “Sarcasm doesn't become you,” he commented, voice low and sonorous as he stretched.
“He's beautiful,” Ione said as Aponi stirred restlessly on her ear, feet digging into Ione's skin. It was as close to a bite as Aponi came without actually nipping her. Ione supposed she could let her get away with that.
Sabriel rolled his one eye. “Please don't tell him that. His ego’s big enough already,” the rebel said with a chuckle, and then, he focused on her. “Were you looking for something?”
Before Ione could even open her mouth to answer, her stomach growled. Loudly. A rather embarrassing sound that gurgled and then grumbled, prompting her to cover her belly with her fingers. Her face heated.
Sabriel laughed again. “It's past lunch time, but I think I can snag something from the kitchens. This way.” He motioned for her to follow.
Still flushing, Ione trailed after him. “This place is a maze.”
“Only to newbies,” Sabriel corrected and started down the hallway in the direction Ione swore she’d just taken. Several times already. “You'll get used to it.”
Anubis' claws clicked on the stone floor and echoed in the silence of the halls. “Don't lie, Sabriel. You still get lost even with the map Helene gave you.”
Ione stifled her chuckle behind her hand as Sabriel tossed his familiar an annoyed glare.
“Don't you have something you should be doing?”
Anubis tossed Ione a long-suffering look before trotting off in the opposite direction. His laugh followed him down the hall.
“If you get lost, I won't come looking for you,” he called over his shoulder and rounded a corner before Sabriel could form a proper retort.
“I won't get lost,” the man muttered under his breath, and he almost sounded like he were sulking.
“I hope not. I'm still hungry,” Ione inserted. Very effectively reminding Sabriel that yes, she was still standing there. And yes, she still desired sustenance.
“I can at least find the kitchens,” Sabriel said a bit loudly, as though hoping Anubis would hear him. “Anything in mind?”
Ione shook her head. “I'm not picky.”
“All the better then. I think Grayson cooked today, and well... that's always an adventure.”
“Grayson!” Ione repeated in stunned amazement, much to Sabriel's shock as he cast her a glance and very obviously stuck a finger in his ear. “Then, I'm not wrong. He's alive?”
Wincing, he lowered his hand. “A bit scarred but alive.” Sabriel grinned wolfishly, single eye glinting. “Oh, now that I remember, you were the one who kicked his ass, weren't you? He sulked about that for days. Weeks even.”
Ione shook her head, lost to scattered realizations. “I didn't know it was him. I thought he was dead. Everyone thinks that.”
“They're meant to,” Sabriel returned as they passed through another winding hall and ended up smack dab in front of a set of double doors. “If the nobles knew he was alive, they'd try to finish the job that started with his wife. A decidedly more difficult task now that he's with us.” Hinges creaked as Sabriel gestured her instead, the spicy smell of something making her belly rumble.
“His brother’s in my team. Well, was on my team. And Ryder hasn't been the same since.” She paused in the doorway to catch Sabriel's gaze. “He thinks you were the ones who killed his brother.”
“We didn't,” Sabriel answered, and there was enough ferocity in his tone that Ione believed him in an instant. “It was that bastard of a captain, Holmes. We were the ones who saved Grayson. Or to be more precise, a sympathizer to our cause.”
“Then--”
“They lied,” Sabriel intruded before she could even get her question out. “You really find it that hard to believe?”
Ione desperately wished she could. That she wasn't already doubting everything she’d fought and bled to uphold. That her beliefs weren't trying to crumble around her.
She turned into the kitchens, nose following the delicious aroma.
“Not anymore,” she mumbled.
The look Sabriel gave her was sympathetic, but he didn't press any further. Instead, he diverted the topic to something far more interesting – food. He introduced her to the few people lingering in the room, none of whom Ione recognized. Still, she had the feeling they weren't former nobles. The magic they held was a mere pittance, one not even holding a spark.
The kitchens themselves were composed of one large room divided in half by a chest-height wall, one side for eating and the other for creating. Heat emanated from the stoves and ovens, and the smell of spices lingered in the air. Massive cupboards held various containers, both for the basic necessities and already completed baked goods.
“We don't have a chef or anything fancy like that,” Sabriel explained as he pulled down some items at her discretion. A quick and easy meal was fine for the moment. “So we split the duties equally. Though more often than not, we bribe the boss to whip up something nice.”
“I burn water,” Ione quickly interjected. “So unless you're interested in blackened bread and tasteless soup, I wouldn't suggest allowing me into the kitchen.”
Sabriel chuckled, slapping a few thick slices of yellow cheese on the bread and reaching for some kind of meat that looked nice and juicy. Rabbit perhaps? Ione's stomach gave a grumble of appreciation, though it was growing impatient.
“Then you're just like Kieran.” Sabriel couldn’t repress his shudder. “Apparently, the ability to mix chemicals doesn't equate to an ability to mix ingredients.”
Ione grinned. “He's always been like-- Ah, no thanks.”
Sabriel, in the midst of preparing to slop a huge spoonful of mustard on top of the bread, raised his brow but nonetheless complied. Instead, he slapped the pieces of bread together and handed it over to Ione, whose mouth watered at the appetizing scent. She bit into it gratefully and swallowed the first large chuck with a flourish.
“Where is he?” she managed to ask between bites.
“In his lab most likely,” Sabriel answered, putting away his ingredients and cleaning up after himself. He added a small laugh. “Half the time, he can't be convinced to emerge from there unless it's the boss doing the coaxing. Did you want to see him then?”
Ione shrugged and answered around a full mouth. “He's the only one I actually know here,” she said evasively, unwilling to admit her weakness.
Unwilling to admit she was overwhelmed by the changes and was desperate for something – anything – familiar. Her mind still hadn't settled, trapped somewhere between terrified and numb. She attempted to act normal for her own sake, but a part of her feared what would happen when she was left alone and to her thoughts. The stark reminder of all that she could no longer return to or call home.
The cold box shut with a dull thud. “You're his favorite. He talks about you all the time. He'll be glad that you interrupted him,” Sabriel put in with a grin. “Bring your food with you. He's just a few halls over.”
“Great, more confusing corridors,” Ione murmured but obediently followed anyway, careful not to drop any crumbs. Especially since Fenris wasn’t there to clean them up.
Sabriel snorted, finger tugging at the straps of his eyepatch and adjusting it. “You'll get used to it.”
Ione wasn't sure she wanted to. Since getting used to it implied that she’d be staying, and she wasn't sure she wanted that either. Though admittedly, she’d very few options. Unless she left Talemar altogether, an unappetizing alternative.
“Oh, and that corridor ends at the baths.” Sabriel gestured to a hall on their left as he passed. “Remember that.”
Ione peered down the passageway. “I'm pretty sure that's not the same one I just left,” she retorted, evidenced by the fact it wasn't lined with shuttered windows.
Sabriel laughed. “Nope. The one you used was for the healers and their patients. These are the communal baths.”
“Communal?”
She felt something settle in her stomach. Ione wasn’t all that body conscious, but the ideal of stripping in front of strangers was alarming.
“The boss feels that bath time is the best time for bonding,” Sabriel commented merrily. He hung a sharp right into a hallway that was painted, of all things, a soft carnation color.
Ione blanched. Nudity with strangers? No thanks. She’d been spoiled by her family's indoor plumbing, courtesy of their friendship with the Azura. Not many of her neighbors had been so fortunate, and Ione had never stayed in the barracks. Not to mention that the bathhouses at Conservatory had been divided by gender.
“Sounds like fun,” she responded weakly, wondering how long she could possibly make it without bathing. Or if there were a nearby stream, not too cold this time of year. Provided they’d allow her to leave their oh-so-secret base.
Sabriel stopped in front of a door that looked to be made from metal. Thick and ridged with a latch that seemed to require some heavy force and lacking in any sort of window or viewing portal.
“And these,” he continued, “are the labs. The only place inside Paragon that's behind a steel door.”
A part of Ione honestly didn't want to know. Then again, it did involve her uncle, and last she remembered clearly, he'd set fire to a very important building back in Meropis. The nobles had talked about it for weeks. That’d been only a month or so before he left, too.
“I wish I could be surprised.” Ione put her hand on the latch and stepped inside.
A wash of cold air instantly hit her, and Ione's skin prickled. It felt like an ice box in here, and her first sight was of a metal bookcase that was jammed with papers, scrolls, and various things she couldn't even begin to identify. A path led to either side, but as far as she could see, the walls were lined all the way around with shelves. All haphazardly organized.
Truly, this was her uncle's place of solace.
Ione carefully stepped in further, watching her feet where the occasional paper littered the floor. They must’ve been failed ideas because there was no way Kieran would allow something important to decorate the ground. Still, what they said about scientists and eccentricity must’ve been true. There was a sharp, acrid odor clinging to the air. That of many different sorts of chemicals and possible explosions. Also, she could hear voices.
“Sounds like Gale’s visiting,” Sabriel said from behind her, not bothering to walk cautiously and with hands shoved in his pockets.
Peering around a bookcase and finding yet another one, Ione turned down the new opening. Apparently, Kieran had accumulated so much junk that he had a maze made out of his furniture. Incredible. But not surprising. Again, he was friends with Souya. It explained so much.
“He visits often?” she asked. Too busy avoiding papers and other obstacles.
Sabriel shrugged, nonchalantly following her as Ione found a dead end. Or to be more precise, there was a something occupying the space. But it wasn't her uncle. Or even living. Anymore that was.
“No more than any of us, I suppose.”
Ione hummed noncommittally and cursed when she found an intersection of shelves and had a choice to go left or right. She settled for right after a brief moment of indecision, the voices growing louder. Perhaps she was getting closer.
Victory arrived when she stepped, blinking, from the concealment of the ridiculously tall shelves and out into the open space of the exact center of the lab. Her uncle was perched atop a high stool by one of his tables. Gale stood alongside, the two speaking intently. Kieran chortled at something, swiveled around in his chair, and happened to catch sight of Ione just as she lifted a hand to wave.
“Unc--”
Her words died as he managed to clamber down from his stool, sprint across the room, and engulf her in the tightest embrace Ione had experienced since her last meeting with Ophelia. Or Souya. And wow, wasn't that parallel scary to draw? And she very firmly promised herself never to have the three of them in one place at the same time. Ever.
She was still considering that as she became surrounded by the smell of explosions and something sweet – chocolate perhaps. Her arms were pinned at her sides, and she quickly realized that it was futile to struggle. Really, one would be amazed that this man and Souya weren’t blood brothers with their oh so similar personalities and quirks. Though at least her uncle had never sent a flying kick to her face in the name of love and training.
Somewhere beyond her swiftly fading consciousness she heard the other two men in the room laugh. Aponi had been all too quick to fly away from Ione's ear for her own safety and now hovered somewhere nearby. The traitor.
“Ione! You came to visit me!” Kieran declared brightly. All but shoving her face into his chest. His arms impossibly tightened. For a man who disdained exercise, he was freakishly strong and had a grip like steel.
“You just saw… me an hour ago,” Ione gasped.
Air was becoming something of a priority. Her arms were stuck to her sides, but since Kieran had thoughtfully lifted her off her feet, she could bring her knee up without worrying about a tumble to the floor. Which would be bad only in that he’d undoubtedly topple over onto her, too.
Kieran snuggled closer. “And that was sixty minutes too long.”
Ione didn’t have enough breath left to respond. Instead, she was too busy trying to wedge her knee in between their bodies to give her chest room to expand. It didn’t seem to be working, however. And she had a second to wonder if he’d release her when she passed out. Or if he’d even notice.
“Kieran,” Gwydion – blessed savior in the guise of an owl – chose that moment to interrupt. “Kieran, dear, the poor child probably needs to breathe.”
Ione heard her chastising her human, but she couldn't see the small owl or much of anything with her tunneling vision. But just like Aponi, Gwydion had probably also taken to the air.
“I can resuscitate her later. I want my cuddle now,” he all but whined in her ear.
Ione's eyes widened in stark terror. She wished, vision almost black, that she hadn't forgotten how very affectionate her uncle could be. Certainly her brothers had always hid when he came to visit, leaving Ione to endure the brunt of his love.
“Annnnd I think that's enough hugging for today,” another voice inserted.
Then, there were hands that pulled Kieran away. That forced him from his death grip. Thereby saving Ione from the clinging, octopus arms by bodily pulling her free.
Ione sucked in a desperate gasp, relieved to be breathing again. Kieran, for his part, didn't look the least bit contrite. He just scratched at his goatee and grinned, shoving his hands in the pockets of his lab coat.
“Yeah,” Sabriel added with a snicker, eyes flickering between Gale and Ione, the former of who had yet to remove his hands from her shoulders. “I don't think Gale would like it if you broke his new favorite pet.”
Gale's glare whipped towards him. “She's not a pet,” he practically growled.
“Yeah,” Ione agreed absently, coughing into her hand. Almost expecting there to be lung tissue. “I'm not a pet.”
“Of course not,” Kieran put in with a sniff. “You're my darling niece.” He raised his arms, on the verge of harpooning her again.
Gale deftly stepped in between. Very effectively blocking her with his lanky frame.
Sabriel glanced between Kieran and Ione with eyes narrowed but thoughtful. “Are you two actually related? Like by blood?”
“No,” Ione answered at the same time that Kieran practically shouted, “Yes!”
Gale looked to Ione for the proper answer, prompting her to shake her head with a definitive negative. She cared for Kieran dearly, but she wasn't about to claim him fully just yet. Her family was strange enough without adding him to the mix that already involved Souya and her brothers. This was just asking for trouble. And unless her grandparents weren’t telling her something, they weren’t really related.
Aponi chose that moment to land once more on Ione's ear, her weight barely perceptible. Gwydion wheeled down and settled back on Kieran's shoulder. She fluffed her feathers, but it didn’t make her much bigger, only fuzzier.
The scientist pouted but perked when he again realized that his adoptive niece had come to visit him. “So you've decided to stay?” His voice was too damn bright for her comfort or liking.
Ione's eyes wandered away. She distracted herself with the many strange instruments and designs floating around the rather small, clear space.
“It's not like I have any other options,” she replied absentmindedly.
“Take your time and seriously consider it,” Gwydion chirped, yellow eyes fixed on Ione. “Make certain of your decisions. We don’t wish for you to regret.”
“Precisely,” Kieran agreed with a sage nod, hauling himself back onto his ridiculously tall stool. He practically had to launch himself up there. “I’m glad you came to visit. Saved me the trouble of dragging you here.”
Ione peered with interest at several of the more... unique items. “I had nothing better to do.”
Which was true.
She’d just arrived here and hadn't done anything more than eat, bathe, and think. The last of which she didn't really want to do at the moment. Better if she just kept on moving and stopped to consider later. Otherwise ,she would be absorbed in the “what ifs” and “should haves” and “wished I hadn'ts” and “if onlys”.
“If you're bored, I can introduce you to the Sergei?” Gale offered a bit too casually. He was hovering close by. As if afraid that Kieran would still fling himself forward to grab his niece.
Ione blinked at that statement. “The what?”
“That's just what the boss calls his commanders. The ones under his lieutenants,” Sabriel said, gesturing to Gale and Kieran at the second sentence. “I'm one of them. The strongest, so you know.”
Somehow, that didn’t come off as arrogant. Merely a statement of fact. Rain was wet. The sun was hot. Sabriel was the strongest.
Gale rolled his eyes. “And the most modest, too.”
“And I’d introduce you to my assistant, but she's still underground, still not outed to the nobles,” Kieran added, idly pushing a few oddly-colored vials across the top of his counter. “You can meet her later. I’ve a feeling you two will get along famously.”
“And you've already met Helene,” Sabriel chimed in, though Ione couldn't remember meeting her at all. “But I'll make sure to introduce you properly at another time. Ishmael… well, we’ll deal with him later.”
“You're not one?” Ione asked, surprised about Kieran since he seemed so important. At least, he appeared to hold a position of power. But then, she remembered the comment about lieutenants. How many did this mysterious boss of theirs have anyway?
Gale chuckled as though she’d just said something outrageously amusing. “Kieran works in an administrative position,” he explained with a wide grin. “He's got a special spot all his own.”
“That's enough, Gale,” Kieran said, voice pitched low and dangerous. The threat, however, was weakened by the pink that spread across the bridge of his nose.
Ione's brows tried to crawl into her hairline, recognizing that there was some private joke or truth between them and very curious as to what it could be. Unfortunately, no one seemed willing to elaborate. She’d have to pry it out of her uncle later then.
Kieran pouted. “I'm head of all things scientific and scholarly here, Ione,” he continued, snubbing his nose at Gale's continued snickers. “I don't command the Theravada, though they do occasionally obey me. Can't imagine why.”
“Fears of becoming the next victim to your experiments maybe,” Sabriel posed, he and Gale exchanging juvenile glances of amusement as they broke into sniggers again.
Sighing, the scientist adjusted his glasses. “Children,” he muttered and turned back to his vials of strange and unusual substances that gurgled cheerfully in their glass containers. “Honestly, I get no respect around here.”
Kieran reached for a green liquid with one hand as he continued to mumble. He uncapped it with the likely intention of pouring it into the bubbling mixture in front of him.
Gwydion ruffled her feathers. “Kieran dear?”
“You'd think I'd never contributed anything,” he added for Ione's benefit with the same attitude of muttered complaints she remembered from her younger days. It was almost cute of him.
“That's only partly true,” Sabriel teased. “Sometimes, you make tasty cake. So long as you're not poisoning us with your tea.”
“The boss banned him from the kitchen,” Gale put in an aside to Ione. Then, he cackled. “We almost never got that purple goo off the ceiling.”
Kieran swung his head around to glare at Gale again. He poured some strange chemical into the other odd chemical just as Gwydion's wing snapped out against his head.
“Don't--”
The words never passed her lips as something went kaboom and sudden noise filled Ione's ears. She couldn't see what happened. The instant Gwydion had spoken, Gale had thrown himself in front of her, and the most Ione felt was the ruffling of wind against her legs. The smell of something pungent and burning swiftly filled the room. Smoke was quick to follow, an unusual shade of chartreuse as it curled towards the high ceiling.
“--mix that with ammonia,” Gwydion finished weakly. She coughed on the thick, acrid odor.
“You can't blame this time on the boss!” Gale retorted all too cheerful considering that they had just survived an explosion.
Ione struggled to peer around the arms encircling her neck and shoulders, interested in assessing the damage. But Gale had apparently forgotten that he was all but lying on top of her. Either that or he was lingering for other reasons. She strongly suspected it was a mixture of both. Her uncle had just tried to kill them all, so it was probably good that he stayed. And it wasn’t like he was really that heavy. But she wasn’t certain how much she liked the idea of a human shield. She was only lucky that Gale hadn’t managed to bash her head in when he’d tackled her to the ground.
Ione rolled her eyes at that, and when she turned her head, she found herself face to face with a black snake. Quetz was watching her curiously and gave a wink when she noticed Ione’s attention, a mysterious thing since she didn’t think serpents even had eyelids. But then, Aponi still managed to have teeth, so really, was this all that weird?
Ione just smiled in a weak greeting as she promptly reached up to tap Gale on the shoulder. “I think it's safe now.”
He startled and abruptly drew back, the tips of his ears burning. “Oh, sorry. Instinct.” Red cut a swatch across his cheeks as his face started to heat up, too.
“Instinct. Riiiiight,” Sabriel drawled, one hand patting down the blackened remains of his shirt. As the closest to Kieran at the time, he’d suffered the brunt of the explosion, though it didn't seem to leave anything but his clothes worse for wear.
A human groan echoed through the room as Ione leaned around Gale, getting her first glimpse of Kieran. His face was blackened, his glasses were missing, and there was a starburst-shaped mark of ash on the table in front of him. Gwydion settled back on his shoulder, completely untouched, probably using her unearthly speed to avoid the worst of it.
“Oops,” Kieran murmured, touching his face with his fingers and coming away with a thick coating of smudge.
“Oops?” Sabriel repeated. He coughed again as he patted smoke out of his pants. “Oops? That's the third time this week! The boss is gonna be pissed you blew up the lab. Yet again.”
Kieran rolled his eyes as he slide off his stool in search of his glasses. That required more patting the ground than actual searching as he couldn't see without them.
“It was only a small one,” he argued reasonably. “And the damage is minimal.”
“To the right,” Gwydion chirped, serving as his eyes. “And next time, you should listen to me rather than go off on one of your muttered tangents, my dear.”
“Yes, yes, you are the great and wise Gwydion. While I… I am just the lowly human struggling to make it in this cruel, cruel world.” Kieran sighed. And then abruptly jerked. “Ow!”
Ione could only surmise that Gwydion had bitten him. She wondered if all familiars took out their displeasure via mouth and if she should start being wary of Fenris. Though perhaps it was just the small ones.
“You owe me a new shirt, Kieran,” Sabriel informed him, reaching down to haul the scientist up by one arm as he easily plucked the glasses from the floor. “And I thought you kept a spare pair.”
Kieran accepted them gratefully and rubbed his shirt over the blackened lenses. It did little good, only smearing more ash and soot.
“Put it on my tab,” he said absentmindedly. “And these are the spares. The others had…” He coughed then. “Well, there was a bit of an accident yesterday.”
Shaking his head, Gale turned away from the two of them and focused on Ione. “It'll take him some time to get this cleaned up. Want a tour?”
“I don't even think ten tours will help me learn my way around this labyrinth,” Ione drawled and gestured vaguely. “But lead on. It's better than my life in danger,” she added with a sidelong look at her uncle.
He didn't seem to have heard her, too busy trying to salvage his experiment and placate Sabriel all at once. Which made this the perfect opportunity for Gale and Ione to slip out unnoticed and into the cleaner air of the hallway. She had the feeling it’d be some time before Kieran managed to sort that particular mess out.
* * * * *
a/n: Not many answers, but lots and lots of hints. *Grins* I’m in the midst of a oneshot from this universe as well, smutty and fluffy and I’ll let you know as soon as it’s finished.
Thanks for reading! As always, feedback is most welcome!
Chapter Eleven is coming up, in which we meet some of the Sergei, learn a bit about Gale's past, and Gale gives Ione a present!
Series: Infinity's End, Book One
Summary: Ione makes a difficult decision when her allies call for her imprisonment, forcing her to flee for her life. In the hands of the Theravada, she meets Gale Arlen, rumored leader of the rebels, and learns what it truly means to choose a side.
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22)
Chapter Ten
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Ione was beginning to think she was lost. She swore she’d passed that overly simplistic painting twice already, and all the halls looked the same. She was loath to ask for directions and flagging down the nearest rebel wasn't at all appealing.
Talya had dropped off clothes earlier and quickly vanished again, leaving behind vague directions to a place Ione could procure a meal. Ione had thought she followed them exactly, but when she ended up staring at a dead end somewhere in the deep recesses of Paragon, she knew she’d taken a wrong turn. And now, she couldn't even find her original starting point.
Frustrating.
“Any ideas?” Ione asked Aponi, but the butterfly was seemingly content to watch Ione wander in endless circles.
“Not a one,” Aponi replied cheerfully.
Ione sighed and paused in the middle of a four-way intersection, each hall looking exactly the same as the one she’d just investigated. Planting her hands on her hips, Ione glared at first one and then the next.
Nothing.
“I’ll bet that I’m not anywhere near the kitchens,” she muttered and picked a hall at random – the left – before shoving her hands in her pockets. “Otherwise, I'd be able to smell the food.”
Behind her, she heard a click and rattle, the sound of a door opening. Ione paused to glance at the corridor she’d just left and found a familiar face slipping out of a door. She debated for all of five seconds before turning to flag him down.
Sabriel noticed her immediately, no doubt keyed in to her footsteps. And Ione was momentarily captivated by the sight of the large dog that trotted out after him. He – at least she assumed the dog was male – was beautiful. Tall and sleek, all lithe muscle and dark fur. A hound of some sort, though Fenris would probably know far better.
“Your familiar?” Ione questioned without so much as a greeting, curiosity overwhelming her.
It was surreal to see so many spirits in a short time frame. It felt like she’d entered another world. One filled with rainbows and bunny rabbits and head wounds. She mustn’t forget that last part.
Sabriel chuckled, dropping his hand to pat the dog on the head and scratch behind his ears. “This is Anubis,” he introduced. “And yes, he has deigned to grace me with his powers.”
Anubis' ears flicked. “Sarcasm doesn't become you,” he commented, voice low and sonorous as he stretched.
“He's beautiful,” Ione said as Aponi stirred restlessly on her ear, feet digging into Ione's skin. It was as close to a bite as Aponi came without actually nipping her. Ione supposed she could let her get away with that.
Sabriel rolled his one eye. “Please don't tell him that. His ego’s big enough already,” the rebel said with a chuckle, and then, he focused on her. “Were you looking for something?”
Before Ione could even open her mouth to answer, her stomach growled. Loudly. A rather embarrassing sound that gurgled and then grumbled, prompting her to cover her belly with her fingers. Her face heated.
Sabriel laughed again. “It's past lunch time, but I think I can snag something from the kitchens. This way.” He motioned for her to follow.
Still flushing, Ione trailed after him. “This place is a maze.”
“Only to newbies,” Sabriel corrected and started down the hallway in the direction Ione swore she’d just taken. Several times already. “You'll get used to it.”
Anubis' claws clicked on the stone floor and echoed in the silence of the halls. “Don't lie, Sabriel. You still get lost even with the map Helene gave you.”
Ione stifled her chuckle behind her hand as Sabriel tossed his familiar an annoyed glare.
“Don't you have something you should be doing?”
Anubis tossed Ione a long-suffering look before trotting off in the opposite direction. His laugh followed him down the hall.
“If you get lost, I won't come looking for you,” he called over his shoulder and rounded a corner before Sabriel could form a proper retort.
“I won't get lost,” the man muttered under his breath, and he almost sounded like he were sulking.
“I hope not. I'm still hungry,” Ione inserted. Very effectively reminding Sabriel that yes, she was still standing there. And yes, she still desired sustenance.
“I can at least find the kitchens,” Sabriel said a bit loudly, as though hoping Anubis would hear him. “Anything in mind?”
Ione shook her head. “I'm not picky.”
“All the better then. I think Grayson cooked today, and well... that's always an adventure.”
“Grayson!” Ione repeated in stunned amazement, much to Sabriel's shock as he cast her a glance and very obviously stuck a finger in his ear. “Then, I'm not wrong. He's alive?”
Wincing, he lowered his hand. “A bit scarred but alive.” Sabriel grinned wolfishly, single eye glinting. “Oh, now that I remember, you were the one who kicked his ass, weren't you? He sulked about that for days. Weeks even.”
Ione shook her head, lost to scattered realizations. “I didn't know it was him. I thought he was dead. Everyone thinks that.”
“They're meant to,” Sabriel returned as they passed through another winding hall and ended up smack dab in front of a set of double doors. “If the nobles knew he was alive, they'd try to finish the job that started with his wife. A decidedly more difficult task now that he's with us.” Hinges creaked as Sabriel gestured her instead, the spicy smell of something making her belly rumble.
“His brother’s in my team. Well, was on my team. And Ryder hasn't been the same since.” She paused in the doorway to catch Sabriel's gaze. “He thinks you were the ones who killed his brother.”
“We didn't,” Sabriel answered, and there was enough ferocity in his tone that Ione believed him in an instant. “It was that bastard of a captain, Holmes. We were the ones who saved Grayson. Or to be more precise, a sympathizer to our cause.”
“Then--”
“They lied,” Sabriel intruded before she could even get her question out. “You really find it that hard to believe?”
Ione desperately wished she could. That she wasn't already doubting everything she’d fought and bled to uphold. That her beliefs weren't trying to crumble around her.
She turned into the kitchens, nose following the delicious aroma.
“Not anymore,” she mumbled.
The look Sabriel gave her was sympathetic, but he didn't press any further. Instead, he diverted the topic to something far more interesting – food. He introduced her to the few people lingering in the room, none of whom Ione recognized. Still, she had the feeling they weren't former nobles. The magic they held was a mere pittance, one not even holding a spark.
The kitchens themselves were composed of one large room divided in half by a chest-height wall, one side for eating and the other for creating. Heat emanated from the stoves and ovens, and the smell of spices lingered in the air. Massive cupboards held various containers, both for the basic necessities and already completed baked goods.
“We don't have a chef or anything fancy like that,” Sabriel explained as he pulled down some items at her discretion. A quick and easy meal was fine for the moment. “So we split the duties equally. Though more often than not, we bribe the boss to whip up something nice.”
“I burn water,” Ione quickly interjected. “So unless you're interested in blackened bread and tasteless soup, I wouldn't suggest allowing me into the kitchen.”
Sabriel chuckled, slapping a few thick slices of yellow cheese on the bread and reaching for some kind of meat that looked nice and juicy. Rabbit perhaps? Ione's stomach gave a grumble of appreciation, though it was growing impatient.
“Then you're just like Kieran.” Sabriel couldn’t repress his shudder. “Apparently, the ability to mix chemicals doesn't equate to an ability to mix ingredients.”
Ione grinned. “He's always been like-- Ah, no thanks.”
Sabriel, in the midst of preparing to slop a huge spoonful of mustard on top of the bread, raised his brow but nonetheless complied. Instead, he slapped the pieces of bread together and handed it over to Ione, whose mouth watered at the appetizing scent. She bit into it gratefully and swallowed the first large chuck with a flourish.
“Where is he?” she managed to ask between bites.
“In his lab most likely,” Sabriel answered, putting away his ingredients and cleaning up after himself. He added a small laugh. “Half the time, he can't be convinced to emerge from there unless it's the boss doing the coaxing. Did you want to see him then?”
Ione shrugged and answered around a full mouth. “He's the only one I actually know here,” she said evasively, unwilling to admit her weakness.
Unwilling to admit she was overwhelmed by the changes and was desperate for something – anything – familiar. Her mind still hadn't settled, trapped somewhere between terrified and numb. She attempted to act normal for her own sake, but a part of her feared what would happen when she was left alone and to her thoughts. The stark reminder of all that she could no longer return to or call home.
The cold box shut with a dull thud. “You're his favorite. He talks about you all the time. He'll be glad that you interrupted him,” Sabriel put in with a grin. “Bring your food with you. He's just a few halls over.”
“Great, more confusing corridors,” Ione murmured but obediently followed anyway, careful not to drop any crumbs. Especially since Fenris wasn’t there to clean them up.
Sabriel snorted, finger tugging at the straps of his eyepatch and adjusting it. “You'll get used to it.”
Ione wasn't sure she wanted to. Since getting used to it implied that she’d be staying, and she wasn't sure she wanted that either. Though admittedly, she’d very few options. Unless she left Talemar altogether, an unappetizing alternative.
“Oh, and that corridor ends at the baths.” Sabriel gestured to a hall on their left as he passed. “Remember that.”
Ione peered down the passageway. “I'm pretty sure that's not the same one I just left,” she retorted, evidenced by the fact it wasn't lined with shuttered windows.
Sabriel laughed. “Nope. The one you used was for the healers and their patients. These are the communal baths.”
“Communal?”
She felt something settle in her stomach. Ione wasn’t all that body conscious, but the ideal of stripping in front of strangers was alarming.
“The boss feels that bath time is the best time for bonding,” Sabriel commented merrily. He hung a sharp right into a hallway that was painted, of all things, a soft carnation color.
Ione blanched. Nudity with strangers? No thanks. She’d been spoiled by her family's indoor plumbing, courtesy of their friendship with the Azura. Not many of her neighbors had been so fortunate, and Ione had never stayed in the barracks. Not to mention that the bathhouses at Conservatory had been divided by gender.
“Sounds like fun,” she responded weakly, wondering how long she could possibly make it without bathing. Or if there were a nearby stream, not too cold this time of year. Provided they’d allow her to leave their oh-so-secret base.
Sabriel stopped in front of a door that looked to be made from metal. Thick and ridged with a latch that seemed to require some heavy force and lacking in any sort of window or viewing portal.
“And these,” he continued, “are the labs. The only place inside Paragon that's behind a steel door.”
A part of Ione honestly didn't want to know. Then again, it did involve her uncle, and last she remembered clearly, he'd set fire to a very important building back in Meropis. The nobles had talked about it for weeks. That’d been only a month or so before he left, too.
“I wish I could be surprised.” Ione put her hand on the latch and stepped inside.
A wash of cold air instantly hit her, and Ione's skin prickled. It felt like an ice box in here, and her first sight was of a metal bookcase that was jammed with papers, scrolls, and various things she couldn't even begin to identify. A path led to either side, but as far as she could see, the walls were lined all the way around with shelves. All haphazardly organized.
Truly, this was her uncle's place of solace.
Ione carefully stepped in further, watching her feet where the occasional paper littered the floor. They must’ve been failed ideas because there was no way Kieran would allow something important to decorate the ground. Still, what they said about scientists and eccentricity must’ve been true. There was a sharp, acrid odor clinging to the air. That of many different sorts of chemicals and possible explosions. Also, she could hear voices.
“Sounds like Gale’s visiting,” Sabriel said from behind her, not bothering to walk cautiously and with hands shoved in his pockets.
Peering around a bookcase and finding yet another one, Ione turned down the new opening. Apparently, Kieran had accumulated so much junk that he had a maze made out of his furniture. Incredible. But not surprising. Again, he was friends with Souya. It explained so much.
“He visits often?” she asked. Too busy avoiding papers and other obstacles.
Sabriel shrugged, nonchalantly following her as Ione found a dead end. Or to be more precise, there was a something occupying the space. But it wasn't her uncle. Or even living. Anymore that was.
“No more than any of us, I suppose.”
Ione hummed noncommittally and cursed when she found an intersection of shelves and had a choice to go left or right. She settled for right after a brief moment of indecision, the voices growing louder. Perhaps she was getting closer.
Victory arrived when she stepped, blinking, from the concealment of the ridiculously tall shelves and out into the open space of the exact center of the lab. Her uncle was perched atop a high stool by one of his tables. Gale stood alongside, the two speaking intently. Kieran chortled at something, swiveled around in his chair, and happened to catch sight of Ione just as she lifted a hand to wave.
“Unc--”
Her words died as he managed to clamber down from his stool, sprint across the room, and engulf her in the tightest embrace Ione had experienced since her last meeting with Ophelia. Or Souya. And wow, wasn't that parallel scary to draw? And she very firmly promised herself never to have the three of them in one place at the same time. Ever.
She was still considering that as she became surrounded by the smell of explosions and something sweet – chocolate perhaps. Her arms were pinned at her sides, and she quickly realized that it was futile to struggle. Really, one would be amazed that this man and Souya weren’t blood brothers with their oh so similar personalities and quirks. Though at least her uncle had never sent a flying kick to her face in the name of love and training.
Somewhere beyond her swiftly fading consciousness she heard the other two men in the room laugh. Aponi had been all too quick to fly away from Ione's ear for her own safety and now hovered somewhere nearby. The traitor.
“Ione! You came to visit me!” Kieran declared brightly. All but shoving her face into his chest. His arms impossibly tightened. For a man who disdained exercise, he was freakishly strong and had a grip like steel.
“You just saw… me an hour ago,” Ione gasped.
Air was becoming something of a priority. Her arms were stuck to her sides, but since Kieran had thoughtfully lifted her off her feet, she could bring her knee up without worrying about a tumble to the floor. Which would be bad only in that he’d undoubtedly topple over onto her, too.
Kieran snuggled closer. “And that was sixty minutes too long.”
Ione didn’t have enough breath left to respond. Instead, she was too busy trying to wedge her knee in between their bodies to give her chest room to expand. It didn’t seem to be working, however. And she had a second to wonder if he’d release her when she passed out. Or if he’d even notice.
“Kieran,” Gwydion – blessed savior in the guise of an owl – chose that moment to interrupt. “Kieran, dear, the poor child probably needs to breathe.”
Ione heard her chastising her human, but she couldn't see the small owl or much of anything with her tunneling vision. But just like Aponi, Gwydion had probably also taken to the air.
“I can resuscitate her later. I want my cuddle now,” he all but whined in her ear.
Ione's eyes widened in stark terror. She wished, vision almost black, that she hadn't forgotten how very affectionate her uncle could be. Certainly her brothers had always hid when he came to visit, leaving Ione to endure the brunt of his love.
“Annnnd I think that's enough hugging for today,” another voice inserted.
Then, there were hands that pulled Kieran away. That forced him from his death grip. Thereby saving Ione from the clinging, octopus arms by bodily pulling her free.
Ione sucked in a desperate gasp, relieved to be breathing again. Kieran, for his part, didn't look the least bit contrite. He just scratched at his goatee and grinned, shoving his hands in the pockets of his lab coat.
“Yeah,” Sabriel added with a snicker, eyes flickering between Gale and Ione, the former of who had yet to remove his hands from her shoulders. “I don't think Gale would like it if you broke his new favorite pet.”
Gale's glare whipped towards him. “She's not a pet,” he practically growled.
“Yeah,” Ione agreed absently, coughing into her hand. Almost expecting there to be lung tissue. “I'm not a pet.”
“Of course not,” Kieran put in with a sniff. “You're my darling niece.” He raised his arms, on the verge of harpooning her again.
Gale deftly stepped in between. Very effectively blocking her with his lanky frame.
Sabriel glanced between Kieran and Ione with eyes narrowed but thoughtful. “Are you two actually related? Like by blood?”
“No,” Ione answered at the same time that Kieran practically shouted, “Yes!”
Gale looked to Ione for the proper answer, prompting her to shake her head with a definitive negative. She cared for Kieran dearly, but she wasn't about to claim him fully just yet. Her family was strange enough without adding him to the mix that already involved Souya and her brothers. This was just asking for trouble. And unless her grandparents weren’t telling her something, they weren’t really related.
Aponi chose that moment to land once more on Ione's ear, her weight barely perceptible. Gwydion wheeled down and settled back on Kieran's shoulder. She fluffed her feathers, but it didn’t make her much bigger, only fuzzier.
The scientist pouted but perked when he again realized that his adoptive niece had come to visit him. “So you've decided to stay?” His voice was too damn bright for her comfort or liking.
Ione's eyes wandered away. She distracted herself with the many strange instruments and designs floating around the rather small, clear space.
“It's not like I have any other options,” she replied absentmindedly.
“Take your time and seriously consider it,” Gwydion chirped, yellow eyes fixed on Ione. “Make certain of your decisions. We don’t wish for you to regret.”
“Precisely,” Kieran agreed with a sage nod, hauling himself back onto his ridiculously tall stool. He practically had to launch himself up there. “I’m glad you came to visit. Saved me the trouble of dragging you here.”
Ione peered with interest at several of the more... unique items. “I had nothing better to do.”
Which was true.
She’d just arrived here and hadn't done anything more than eat, bathe, and think. The last of which she didn't really want to do at the moment. Better if she just kept on moving and stopped to consider later. Otherwise ,she would be absorbed in the “what ifs” and “should haves” and “wished I hadn'ts” and “if onlys”.
“If you're bored, I can introduce you to the Sergei?” Gale offered a bit too casually. He was hovering close by. As if afraid that Kieran would still fling himself forward to grab his niece.
Ione blinked at that statement. “The what?”
“That's just what the boss calls his commanders. The ones under his lieutenants,” Sabriel said, gesturing to Gale and Kieran at the second sentence. “I'm one of them. The strongest, so you know.”
Somehow, that didn’t come off as arrogant. Merely a statement of fact. Rain was wet. The sun was hot. Sabriel was the strongest.
Gale rolled his eyes. “And the most modest, too.”
“And I’d introduce you to my assistant, but she's still underground, still not outed to the nobles,” Kieran added, idly pushing a few oddly-colored vials across the top of his counter. “You can meet her later. I’ve a feeling you two will get along famously.”
“And you've already met Helene,” Sabriel chimed in, though Ione couldn't remember meeting her at all. “But I'll make sure to introduce you properly at another time. Ishmael… well, we’ll deal with him later.”
“You're not one?” Ione asked, surprised about Kieran since he seemed so important. At least, he appeared to hold a position of power. But then, she remembered the comment about lieutenants. How many did this mysterious boss of theirs have anyway?
Gale chuckled as though she’d just said something outrageously amusing. “Kieran works in an administrative position,” he explained with a wide grin. “He's got a special spot all his own.”
“That's enough, Gale,” Kieran said, voice pitched low and dangerous. The threat, however, was weakened by the pink that spread across the bridge of his nose.
Ione's brows tried to crawl into her hairline, recognizing that there was some private joke or truth between them and very curious as to what it could be. Unfortunately, no one seemed willing to elaborate. She’d have to pry it out of her uncle later then.
Kieran pouted. “I'm head of all things scientific and scholarly here, Ione,” he continued, snubbing his nose at Gale's continued snickers. “I don't command the Theravada, though they do occasionally obey me. Can't imagine why.”
“Fears of becoming the next victim to your experiments maybe,” Sabriel posed, he and Gale exchanging juvenile glances of amusement as they broke into sniggers again.
Sighing, the scientist adjusted his glasses. “Children,” he muttered and turned back to his vials of strange and unusual substances that gurgled cheerfully in their glass containers. “Honestly, I get no respect around here.”
Kieran reached for a green liquid with one hand as he continued to mumble. He uncapped it with the likely intention of pouring it into the bubbling mixture in front of him.
Gwydion ruffled her feathers. “Kieran dear?”
“You'd think I'd never contributed anything,” he added for Ione's benefit with the same attitude of muttered complaints she remembered from her younger days. It was almost cute of him.
“That's only partly true,” Sabriel teased. “Sometimes, you make tasty cake. So long as you're not poisoning us with your tea.”
“The boss banned him from the kitchen,” Gale put in an aside to Ione. Then, he cackled. “We almost never got that purple goo off the ceiling.”
Kieran swung his head around to glare at Gale again. He poured some strange chemical into the other odd chemical just as Gwydion's wing snapped out against his head.
“Don't--”
The words never passed her lips as something went kaboom and sudden noise filled Ione's ears. She couldn't see what happened. The instant Gwydion had spoken, Gale had thrown himself in front of her, and the most Ione felt was the ruffling of wind against her legs. The smell of something pungent and burning swiftly filled the room. Smoke was quick to follow, an unusual shade of chartreuse as it curled towards the high ceiling.
“--mix that with ammonia,” Gwydion finished weakly. She coughed on the thick, acrid odor.
“You can't blame this time on the boss!” Gale retorted all too cheerful considering that they had just survived an explosion.
Ione struggled to peer around the arms encircling her neck and shoulders, interested in assessing the damage. But Gale had apparently forgotten that he was all but lying on top of her. Either that or he was lingering for other reasons. She strongly suspected it was a mixture of both. Her uncle had just tried to kill them all, so it was probably good that he stayed. And it wasn’t like he was really that heavy. But she wasn’t certain how much she liked the idea of a human shield. She was only lucky that Gale hadn’t managed to bash her head in when he’d tackled her to the ground.
Ione rolled her eyes at that, and when she turned her head, she found herself face to face with a black snake. Quetz was watching her curiously and gave a wink when she noticed Ione’s attention, a mysterious thing since she didn’t think serpents even had eyelids. But then, Aponi still managed to have teeth, so really, was this all that weird?
Ione just smiled in a weak greeting as she promptly reached up to tap Gale on the shoulder. “I think it's safe now.”
He startled and abruptly drew back, the tips of his ears burning. “Oh, sorry. Instinct.” Red cut a swatch across his cheeks as his face started to heat up, too.
“Instinct. Riiiiight,” Sabriel drawled, one hand patting down the blackened remains of his shirt. As the closest to Kieran at the time, he’d suffered the brunt of the explosion, though it didn't seem to leave anything but his clothes worse for wear.
A human groan echoed through the room as Ione leaned around Gale, getting her first glimpse of Kieran. His face was blackened, his glasses were missing, and there was a starburst-shaped mark of ash on the table in front of him. Gwydion settled back on his shoulder, completely untouched, probably using her unearthly speed to avoid the worst of it.
“Oops,” Kieran murmured, touching his face with his fingers and coming away with a thick coating of smudge.
“Oops?” Sabriel repeated. He coughed again as he patted smoke out of his pants. “Oops? That's the third time this week! The boss is gonna be pissed you blew up the lab. Yet again.”
Kieran rolled his eyes as he slide off his stool in search of his glasses. That required more patting the ground than actual searching as he couldn't see without them.
“It was only a small one,” he argued reasonably. “And the damage is minimal.”
“To the right,” Gwydion chirped, serving as his eyes. “And next time, you should listen to me rather than go off on one of your muttered tangents, my dear.”
“Yes, yes, you are the great and wise Gwydion. While I… I am just the lowly human struggling to make it in this cruel, cruel world.” Kieran sighed. And then abruptly jerked. “Ow!”
Ione could only surmise that Gwydion had bitten him. She wondered if all familiars took out their displeasure via mouth and if she should start being wary of Fenris. Though perhaps it was just the small ones.
“You owe me a new shirt, Kieran,” Sabriel informed him, reaching down to haul the scientist up by one arm as he easily plucked the glasses from the floor. “And I thought you kept a spare pair.”
Kieran accepted them gratefully and rubbed his shirt over the blackened lenses. It did little good, only smearing more ash and soot.
“Put it on my tab,” he said absentmindedly. “And these are the spares. The others had…” He coughed then. “Well, there was a bit of an accident yesterday.”
Shaking his head, Gale turned away from the two of them and focused on Ione. “It'll take him some time to get this cleaned up. Want a tour?”
“I don't even think ten tours will help me learn my way around this labyrinth,” Ione drawled and gestured vaguely. “But lead on. It's better than my life in danger,” she added with a sidelong look at her uncle.
He didn't seem to have heard her, too busy trying to salvage his experiment and placate Sabriel all at once. Which made this the perfect opportunity for Gale and Ione to slip out unnoticed and into the cleaner air of the hallway. She had the feeling it’d be some time before Kieran managed to sort that particular mess out.
a/n: Not many answers, but lots and lots of hints. *Grins* I’m in the midst of a oneshot from this universe as well, smutty and fluffy and I’ll let you know as soon as it’s finished.
Thanks for reading! As always, feedback is most welcome!
Chapter Eleven is coming up, in which we meet some of the Sergei, learn a bit about Gale's past, and Gale gives Ione a present!
