42 – A Ton of Bricks
Ward wanted to sleep in, but his mind wouldn’t let him. His eyes opened just as the first light of dawn was brightening his window, and though he tossed and turned, burying his face in his pillow, sleep wouldn’t come back to him. After a frustrating half an hour or so, he decided to take charge of his sleeplessness and jumped out of bed. He took a hot bath to fight off the morning chill, and when he emerged from his room, dressed in a clean set of new clothes, though not in his jacket, he felt pretty damn good despite only sleeping four or five hours.
The common room was quiet, with only one other early riser eating breakfast near the fireplace. Ward took a seat by a small window table and watched the frost steam on the slate and copper roofs of nearby buildings. When Fay emerged from the kitchen carrying a pitcher of hot cider toward her other customer, she gave him a double-take and then hurried over. “Ward! Fan told me about your…visit to the kitchen last night.” She spoke softly, offering him a wink, and Ward suppressed a chuckle.
“Yeah, good cookies. Did Haley go home?”
“No! She’s still snug in my bed. And before you go making lewd comments, I slept with my auntie again. You’re not the only one who gets special guest treatment around here.”
“I wasn’t thinking any…” Ward trailed off as Grace appeared and started speaking over him.
“Ask her how she is!”
“Um, she’s all right, though? I was a little worried about her last night.”
“She’s fine, but she’ll have a hangover. Were things okay for you? I mean, concerning your errands?”
“Yeah. Messy, but okay, I think. We’ll see.” Ward raised his voice, grinning crookedly at Fay, “Glad I was home in my room early last night, let’s put it that way!”
“Mmhmm. I’m sure there’s plenty we can talk about later, though, right? Anyway, breakfast?”
“Please!” Ward’s mood was so good that he almost felt buzzed, which was a strange way for a man to feel, in his opinion, after bludgeoning a few strangers to death the night before. While Fay delivered a drink to her other customer, he looked over at Grace, who’d taken the seat across from him. “You think there’s something wrong with me?”
“Where do I start?”
“Seriously. Why am I so chipper after last night? That was some…harrowing shit.”
“Come on, Ward. Is that the first time you’ve picked up a baseball bat to make a point?”
“Never with such finality.” Ward sighed and stretched his legs out under the table, leaning back a bit in the wooden chair. “I worry that part of me doesn’t think this is all real.”
Grace shrugged. “I think you’re past that. You’ve almost died enough times now that you’ve grasped an appreciation for how vital it is that you keep breathing.” She drummed her fingers briefly while Ward frowned, then continued, “I think it has more to do with me being in your head, with your body’s absorption of mana, and the repeated face-to-face encounters with death since you got here. Your psyche isn’t the same as it was back on Earth.”
“You’re having an effect on me?”
“Glad you zeroed in on that point.” Grace sighed and shrugged again, her narrow shoulders pushing up the collar of her suit jacket. “I guess I am. I mean, that’s how these things work—you get a little bit of me, and I get a little bit of you. It can’t be helped when we’re both sharing space in that thick skull of yours.”
In spite of himself, Ward laughed. “It is thick, isn’t it? I’m hardly sore from yesterday. My ribs feel tender, but it’s just bruising.”
“It’s good your face didn’t get battered ‘cause you just saw Captain Figran ducking under the awning.”
“I—” Ward jerked his attention back to the window. Sure enough, there was Figran, stomping his feet and shrugging out a coat. A minute later, he stepped through the door and hung the long garment from the rack beside the door. He scanned the room, and when his eyes fell on Ward, they lit up like he’d just seen a buck on a deer hunt. He cleared his throat and strode toward his table, his boots clomping on the wooden plank flooring.
“Mr. Dyer! Just the man I was coming to see.”
“Oh?” Ward gestured to Grace’s chair. “Join me for breakfast?”
“Ahem.” He stepped over to the chair and pulled it out. “Thank you; I believe I will. My lady wife fixed me a soft-boiled egg over a bed of pickled cabbage this morning, and while it was flavorful, I don’t believe it will sustain me until lunch.”
“A single egg?” Ward shook his head. “That won’t do. Is she concerned about your waistline?”
“I’d be a lying rascal if I denied it. She had to let out my uniform pants last week.” Figran frowned and then chuckled. “What are we talking about? My apologies, but I have important business to discuss with you.”
“I’m at your service.” Ward felt like he’d figured the captain out—he enjoyed small talk and a show of respect. He reminded him far too much of the command staff he’d had to deal with on a daily basis back in the department.
“Excellent. Would you mind describing your activities last evening to me?”
“My activities? I’m a boring man, Captain. I spent the early evening meditating in my room here, and then I took a quick walk over to my friend’s house to help straighten up before she returns. You know, the young woman who was nearly murdered in one of the city's better neighborhoods.”
“Yes, yes. Is that all? What time did you return to the inn?”
“I don’t own a watch, sir, but it was just past their normal dinner rush.”
“Mmhmm, and can anyone attest to this?”
“How about you start giving a little rather than simply taking. What’s this all about? Did something happen last night?”
“Let’s just say some men were brutalized, and still others are missing. Men who were, according to my investigators, of particular interest with regard to your friend’s assault. Still, if you were here in the night, it’s nothing for you to worry about.” He turned at the sound of the kitchen door. “Ah! Here comes the mistress’s daughter.”
“That’s her niece.” Ward was a little taken aback by the captain’s change in demeanor. Was he playing him, or had Ward’s simple efforts at charm paid off so handsomely?
Fay’s smile had fallen at the sight of Figran, but she came over, forcing it back into place. “Hello, Captain! Will you be joining us for breakfast?”
“Indeed, I shall!”
“In that case, let me put this down for Ward, and then I’ll hurry back with more for you.”
“Yes, yes. I’m sure Ward’s quite hungry after his activities last night.”
“My—” Ward started, but the captain held up his hand, and Ward could see this was a test. He narrowed his eyes but stopped speaking.
“Activities?” Fay looked at Ward and raised one eyebrow. “Were you up to something last night? I didn’t see you take anyone up to your room.”
Ward shrugged and capitalized on Fay’s clever response. “Not sure what the captain’s getting at. What is it, Captain?”
Figran watched Fay set down Ward’s bacon, eggs, and buttery toast, then, swallowing noisily, he said, “Oh, so Mr. Dyer was here last night?”
“Far as I know, aye. Though, I confess, I was rather busy flirting with Waylin Venns.”
“Waylin…Isn’t he one of the farriers down on Copper Row?”
“Yes! He’ll be so thrilled to know Captain Figran knows him! He’s desperate to get a contract with the watch! Do you think you could speak to him? He says he’s purchased a recipe for a hoof balm that’ll extend your mounts' functional lifespan.”
“Is that so? Well, I’ll send Sergeant Guest down to speak with him.” He pointed at Ward’s food. “I’ll take just what this fellow has, please.”
“Right away, sir.” Fay turned, but as her eyes passed across Ward’s, she sent him a smile that said something along the lines of, “Aren’t I clever?”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Ward spent the next hour making small talk with the captain while he slowly consumed the meal Fay brought him. He sipped his tea, he took tiny bites of his eggs and pork, and he even nibbled his bread—it was driving Ward mad watching him slowly progress through his breakfast, but he had nowhere else to be at that hour, and he had a feeling the captain knew it. They spoke about the guards and crime in the city, and Ward learned a bit about their legal system—people were given a trial before a judge, but there wasn’t any guarantee of rights. If you were suspected of a serious crime, there was a good chance you’d be locked in a cell while you awaited the Judge’s attention.
Ward learned that in matters as severe as what had befallen Haley and her parents, the entire process was handed off to the Marshal, and his or her investigation would determine if an Assembly Judge would have to come to the town to settle matters. The Assembly reminded him of the federal government in the United States, though perhaps a bit more distant and hands-off. When the captain was near the finish line with his final piece of buttered, jam-slathered toast, Ward asked, “Have you ever gone to…well, wherever the Vainglory Assembly is based?”
“Oh, goodness, no! They’re on Primus, and the cost to travel to Primus would…” He chewed and contemplated, eyes on the ceiling while he thought things over and swallowed his last bite. “It would ruin me. No, I’d have to sell everything I own, including my grandparents’ home.”
“Huh. That hard? So, people don’t travel between the worlds in this system?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that! There are several worlds closer than Primus. Springsea is only a week’s journey on a hauler. I’ve never been, but I’ve talked to a few folks who have.”
“Springsea?”
“You haven’t seen it? At night, this time of year, you can see her hanging next to Fua—the big blue moon. Springsea is green and blue with a glass-like sheen near sunset.”
The way he described it brought a crystal-clear image to Ward’s mind. He’d seen the green-blue marble in the sky since coming to Cinder. “I’ve seen it!” He nodded enthusiastically, sipping his fourth cup of warm cider.
The captain finally stood up from the table some fifteen minutes later, holding his belly, distended with food and drink, as he stumbled toward the door. “Time to get to the office! Oof! I overdid it this morning. Don’t tell my wife!” he laughed, speaking to Ward but pitching his voice so everyone in the common room was in on the joke. Many guests had come down during their breakfast, and the space buzzed with conversation. Several people chuckled at the captain’s humor, and then the man was gone, and Ward found himself face-to-face with Grace again.
“He wants to like you. I think he’s convinced himself that you’re not a bad guy.”
“Good.” Ward sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Hopefully, he’ll leave me alone until I clear town.”
“Clearing town, eh?” Fay asked, walking up behind him. He’d forgotten she’d been meandering the room, cleaning tables.
“I didn’t mean it like that—”
“I know what you mean. Don’t worry about my feelings, mister. You made it pretty clear you weren’t planning to settle down here.” She turned to the stairs at the sound of hard soles clicking on the steps. “Speaking of fleeing town, here’s your girlfriend.” She didn’t sound angry or bitter, but Ward couldn’t help feeling the bite of her words.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said, more sharply than he’d intended. Fay flashed him a perplexing look—half smile and half scoff, and then she hurried back to the kitchen.
Grace sighed. “You hurt her feelings.”
“How?” Ward wasn’t dumb, but he wasn’t a genius, either, and he couldn’t see what he’d done to deserve Fay’s ire.
“Well, she helped clean Haley’s house. She lied to the cops for you. Instead of acting thankful or thinking about how you could show your appreciation, you sat here talking to yourself about skipping town.”
“I wasn’t talking to myself—”
“Morning, Ward. Grace here?” Haley smiled, yawning, as she sat opposite him. Grace had moved, suddenly standing behind Haley, leaning on the back of her chair, grinning at Ward, practically cheek to cheek with the young woman.
“Yeah, you caught me. At least you know I’m not crazy.”
“Am I interrupting?”
“No, no. We’re just bantering.” Ward pitched his voice low and almost whispered, “Hey, I have some news for you.”
“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow and leaned close, reaching for his cup of cider and sniffing the contents before drinking a healthy swig.
“After I finished up at your house, you know, cleaning up, the guy who attacked you and your folks made a try at me.” Now Ward really did whisper as Haley’s eyes bugged out, “He’s buried in your backyard with the other guy.”
“Really?” She leaned back, blowing out a deep, pent-up breath. “That’s…” She frowned, searching for words, then nodded, locking her eyes with Wards. “Thank you, Ward. That’s a relief. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing myself when I eventually confronted him.” She looked thoughtful, gently tapping one of her smooth, round fingernails against her slightly dimpled chin. “Does that mean Foyle—”
“I, uh, paid him a visit too. Keep that between us, please—some crimes were committed.” Ward shrugged and then, trying to steer her thinking in the right direction, said, “He isn’t responsible. I put the fear of God in him, and he confessed to sending the thugs after me—at Nevkin’s request—but he swore he had nothing to do with the attack on you. It’s still possible Nevkin set that up with someone on his own, but I don’t know.” Ward frowned, thinking, while Haley digested his words. After a moment, he nodded. “Anyway, we need to catch up to Nevkin; you won’t get any justice out of Foyle.”
“I can’t believe that calm, educated, rational boy did all this. I can’t believe he stole your artifact and abandoned us, let alone hired killers to lay in wait.”
“Nah, I agree, and so does Grace. She thinks it's that tongue. Well, mostly—we both think he was a little creepier than he let on while we were working together.”
“I think the same. It’s burned on my mind, that horrible gargling cry he made as it took root in his mouth, and that sound as he first spoke with it. It might be a powerful boon for a sorcerer, but Nevkin was just a boy! He didn’t have a touch of the stuff in him. How could he handle something like that?”
“That’s about what Grace said.” Ward shrugged. “I don’t know much about artifacts, but apparently, they can have a will of their own.”
“The more powerful, the older the artifact, the more dangerous. We have many cautionary tales here about such things. A boy finds a magical helmet, and when he wears it, he becomes a mad axe killer. Or the girl who discovers her nan’s old recipe book only to find herself concocting poisons and mind control potions, handing them out to the neighborhood kids, especially those who teased or bullied her. They’re mostly fairy tales, but you know how those things go; there’s some truth behind such ancient stories.”
The bell above the door rang, and a boy walked in carrying a burlap-wrapped bundle. He walked over to the bar and, struggling with the weight, heaved it onto the counter. “I have a feeling that’s for me,” Ward said.
“You ordered something?”
“An armored shirt, one that fits. Speaking of that, how soon do you think you’ll be ready to leave town? I’d like to buy mounts or hire onto a caravan and head north. We need to pick up Nevkin’s trail before it gets cold.”
“You know, I didn’t consider this before, but I have a horse, Ward, and you can have my father’s. He’s a proud stallion and a good, easy runner. My father endlessly praised him—he’s a dun with a white star on his forehead named Nutmeg.”
“Really? Why didn’t you ever mention you were a rider?”
“Well, it’s not so uncommon; besides, I haven’t been out to the stables in almost a year. I got preoccupied with Gopah and preparing for the challenges with Fost.” She looked down, her pointer finger drawing little circles in a bit of spilled cider.
Ward saw Fay pick up the package from the bar and start toward their table. He cleared his throat and stood. “Hey. Thanks, Fay.”
“Yep, delivery for you, sir.” She handed it to him, and when he took it, she let go but gently drew the fingers of her left hand over his knuckles, locking eyes with him again. Ward smiled, suddenly nervous by how little he was understanding her mood. He’d thought she was annoyed with him, but now she was flirting again? “Good morning, princess.” Fay leaned over to squeeze Haley in a sideways hug. “Was the bed all right? Fan and I didn’t wake you?”
“It was wonderful! I can’t thank you enough, Fay!”
“I’m going to get you something to eat, hmm? Ward, are you expecting anything else today? Will you be around?”
“I’ll be around, but I hoped to hear back from an artificer about some special bullets. I also wanted to pay Maggie a visit out by the graveyard.”
“I’m going to pack up a bag at my house and lock things up. Do you mind if I go see my uncle outside town? He’s about four hours away by horse, and I want to talk to him about having one of my cousins stay in my house for me. I’m not ready to sell it, but I don’t want to live in it right now.”
Ward frowned. “Why would I mind?”
“Well, I don’t want you to leave without me, and I hate to make you wait another day or two while I settle things with the house.”
“Yes, we wouldn’t want to pin the poor man down for a second longer than we must!” Fay laughed when Ward’s scowl deepened, then she turned and sauntered away, calling over her shoulder, “Food’s coming up, Haley!”
“She’s conflicted,” Grace said, watching Fay’s back with a decidedly speculative expression.
“Anyway, I don’t mind,” Ward said, turning back to Haley and trying to salvage the conversation. “I have a lot of questions for Maggie, and if things go my way, I might have another spell or two to learn after I get done talking to her.”
“Perfect! I’ll hurry, but I’m sure I’ll need to stay for dinner and spend the night with my uncle—he never liked my dad, but he sure loved my mom…” Her voice grew soft, and she looked down; it seemed she couldn’t escape the loss she’d suffered.
“Hey, I’m proud of you, Haley. You’re handling everything far better than I could. Don’t hurry on my account. The least I can do is give you time to figure things out before we head out. My only concern is that I don’t want Nevkin to get too far ahead.”
Haley nodded, a stern, firm expression on her face. She pressed her lips together, nodding. “And we’ve been making enemies here, even if they don’t know it yet.”
Ward thought about the bodies in her garden and the bodyguards he’d laid out with his stout club the night before. He thought about Foyle, weeping on his knees. “Yeah, that’s a damn good point. Best we move on sooner than later.”
Haley pushed away from the table and started for the door. “I can’t sit still with all this going on. Tell Fay I’m sorry I skipped breakfast. See you in the morning.” She waved, and Ward returned the gesture. Part of him wanted to talk her into sitting back down, but another part of him knew what was happening with her; when you suffered a loss, sometimes the best way to cope was to keep yourself busy, to focus on a goal and get after it. He turned to Grace, raising an eyebrow.
“What?” the devil asked.
“She’s pretty solid, wouldn’t you say? She’ll make a good partner.”
“This isn’t a buddy cop movie. She’s solid, as you say, but when you’re sitting around the campfire in a few days, don’t be surprised if you find yourself comforting her as she weeps tears that would give La Llorona a run for her money.”
“La Llorona? You dug pretty deep for that one.” Grace scowled, and Ward waved his hand, signaling surrender. “Forget it. I get your point, and I’ll be there when it all hits her like a ton of bricks.”
“Poetic, Ward.”