Chapter 58

Tough Choice

Glass panes separated Evon on the balcony from us inside. He was leaning on the banister and staring out at Lavenfauvish. Hiccup, Erik, Abigail and I sat on barrels. Butlers circled us. Tension tightened the air.

Erik shook his head. “A fool, attacking you like that.”

Riggvelte faced me and bowed low. “I have failed to protect you as our guest, Mr. Thrush.”

“Nonsense,” said Hiccup. “You held the man at bay, and it was I who bade him forward. I, the real fool here, did not read the air. I should have sensed something amiss.”

But these creatures could not sense things the way that I could. They could not smell the speed at which blood traveled through the human body, nor what emotion blood carried. They could not hear the whispers of the heart or the stealth of quieted breaths. They could not listen.

“I killed his anger,” I said. “Now he suffers.”

In all the veins around me, adrenaline was beginning to cool down, like lions laying for naps. There was one smell of quiet rage that I picked up, one smell of shallow breaths, one sound of a speeding heartbeat: Abigail. She had been silent so far. Her leg bounced and her gaze bore through the glass panes.

“That’s no excuse,” said Erik. “I know that you’re Thrush and all, but he could just as easily hurt someone else next time. We need to bring this incident to the authorities.”

“Why?” I said. “What will they do?”

“Punish the man,” said Riggvelte.

“Investigate,” said Hiccup. “It will be considered a crime in court. He’ll be jailed.”

I gazed where Abigail gazed, at Evon. The creature suffered in silence, but these other companions wanted to keep him suffering? Why double suffering?

“I shall dispatch for the guard,” said Hiccup.

My ears switched toward Abigail. She clenched her jaw. Her leg stopped bouncing.

“He’s a danger,” said Erik. “Anger like that was out of control. You were right, Thrush. He had no reason to be angry—not for something like that.”

Abigail’s eyes became thin edges. She went still. Her heart beat faster.

Hiccup nodded to Riggvelte. “I can sympathize with losing half a life’s work along a quest path, but to turn violent like that…Gah! I should have never given the wretch a second chance. Fetch the guard Riggvelte.”

Abigail went stone still. She stood and turned to us. “Just a moment, Riggvelte. What Evon did was wrong, and he’s clearly suffering…Thrush, how can you say that he doesn’t know what real anger is? You can’t compare his anger with someone else’s because someone will always ‘have it worse’. If Evon experiences anger and suffering, that anger is just as real as the anger you felt when Margaux kicked Boggo.”

“Boggo?” said Erik.

Abigail continued. “We only have our own experiences. Your experience doesn’t mean that Evon’s is any less valid. It’s not that simple, and a small thing could affect someone deeply.”

“Ms. Yak,” said Riggvelte. “Are you saying we shouldn’t involve the city?”

“Listen. Everyone goes through what they go through. I've been thinking about Slime-tooth this entire time. I kept asking myself: Abigail, why was he happy in the deplorable conditions he was in; and why wasn’t he red with anger from the obvious pain he was in?”

“He was always happy to see Barnacle-eyes,” I reasoned.

“Thrush, you can’t invalidate someone’s feelings because someone else has it worse. What matters is what you do with any feeling you have, how you get through it, and what you do after it.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Riggvelte made it a statement this time. “You’re saying we shouldn’t involve the city.”

Abigail sat. She seemed to struggle returning an answer. She shook her head ever so slightly. Not as an answer, so far as I could tell, but more like she didn’t know what to do.

“I’ve already given him a second chance,” said Hiccup. He massaged his brow, perhaps to force new thinking to take shape. “What would Ashlee say to do…”

A silence fell among Erik, Riggvelte, and the butlers. I heard their hearts change pace as one, as if their hearts softened for the human who had lost the love of his life.

“Evon is suffering,” I said. “The plan is to hand him over to the city to make him suffer more?”

“That’s what we do with criminals,” said Erik. “Imagine if you were human. Imagine if he ran that shear through Abigail. Who’s to say his anger won’t return?”

“Why don’t we ask him,” I said.

“Things don’t work like that,” said Abigail. “You can’t control some emotions. Didn’t you stop eating after Boggo was hurt? That couldn’t have been on purpose.”

“Master Hiccough,” said Riggvelte, “I’m not comfortable with this man on the premises. It sounds to me like there is hesitation here, and I want it known that I cannot guarantee the safety of our guests if Evon is to remain here.”

“That settles that,” said Hiccup. Riggvelte and his butlers relaxed. I heard their imperceptible sighs.

For at least an hour, with everyone making occasional glances to Evon on the balcony, we discussed what to do with the man. If we weren’t going to report his assault to the city, what then? What did we do with a man who suffered from the loss of his life long quest path?

“A fable stone,” I said.

“Oh sure,” said Erik. “Easy answer for you. How long have you been around? Humans don’t live long lives. Any chance we have at a long life comes from the work we put into reaching the highest rank we can. Telling someone in the second half of gold rank to start over brings their chances at a longer life to near zero. The amount of work and years they’d have to put in to reach diamond would crush a man.”

“Would make him suffer,” I said.

All nodded. Clothing ruffled. A couple of throats were cleared.

“Why do we care so much for Evon,” said Erik. “Not to be insensitive, but if it were anyone else, would we really hesitate to involve the city?”

No one answered, but all nodded. Gazes darted between me and Evon.

Hiccup deeply sighed. “...Ashlee knew Evon. She would have wanted to help him.”

“I helped his anger,” I said. “Maybe I can help his suffering too.”

“We’re not giving him a third chance, are we?” said Erik.

“I’m with Erik on this, Master Hiccough. Evon cannot remain on the premises. It would impede my purpose here.”

“Perhaps I can hire him,” Abigail said.

“And take full responsibility if he hurts someone?” said Riggvelte.

“Hasn’t he been around a lot of someones?” I said. “He hasn’t hurt any of them, has he? Aren’t I different from you humans? Don’t humans normally battle monsters like me? He didn’t hurt a human. He attacked what many have called a monster. I’ve been around enough humans to know that.”

“You’re different,” said Abigail.

“You have a point, Thrush.” said Hiccup. “He hasn’t hurt anyone here until Thrush was summoned. Not one human.”

“Lavenfauvish extends the law on assault to a variety of races,” said Erik. “Isn’t that right? Attacking a…”

“Nightream,” I said.

“-Nightream won’t make it less of a crime.”

“What if I told you he inflicted no pain upon me?”

“The intent to was still there.”

“Master Hiccough,” said one of the butlers.

“That’s a mark on your performance,” Riggvelte snapped at his butler. “Not another word out of you.”

But the butler stepped forward. “I mean to reach the highest rank I possibly can. I don’t want the death of a guest on my record. If Evon stays, I will resign right here at your feet.”

Suddenly everyone began talking at once. Hearts beat faster. Blood stank with human emotions. …Quite sensitive creatures.

Abigail’s voice cut through the din. Voices quieted.

“What did you say?” said Hiccup.

“What if I place him as liaison between Hawkin’s mausoleum and the grievers and bereaved?”

“More suffering,” I said.

“He’ll attack some unfortunate soul,” said Erik. “I don’t know why we’re entertaining this. You’re putting people at risk.”

“He hasn’t attacked a human so far. Why would he start now when his target was Thrush?”

“I killed his anger,” I said.

Hiccup’s shoes creaked as he stood. He tugged his collar and gazed through the panes. “I’d like to give him one more chance. I’ll allow him to stay. Riggvelte, we can negotiate extra payment for bodyguards.”

Three butlers angrily resigned and walked off. Erik shook his head and muttered; his face went red. Riggvelte sighed and closed his eyes as though he were bracing for pain.

Abigail’s brow creased. “I’ll see about acquiring a fable stone for him.”

…Humans…