ONE HUNDRED FIFTY-THREE: Galleta

153

******

“It will fade now,” Esh-erdi said simply, withdrawing his authority.

The matter had been dealt with in seconds. Esh-erdi had confirmed that Alden wanted the whole tattoo gone except for the concentric triangles that represented the still-active pact for secrecy. Then, the knight’s power had touched him.

I wasn’t wrong about how strong he is, Alden thought.

Profoundly strong.

It wasn’t a large, comprehensible strength, like Lute’s, but a power so much more than Alden himself that it didn’t even invite comparison. He felt like an ant that had just been patted on the head by a mountain.

Every time he’d been in the presence of a mighty presence the experience had been different.

Gorgon had given him that stare that had kicked off the brain-unspooling, epiphanic ecstasy. The Primary had asked Alden those questions and peered into his being, thanks to Stuart feeling the need to compliment him on some quality of his authority. And on Thegund, Alis-art’h had held him together like a pair of hands wrapped around a broken statuette, keeping all the pieces in place.

In this case, despite his sudden awareness of the immensity of Esh-erdi’s authority, the actual touch had been brief and light as a whisper.

Alden had a fleeting fear of discovery; but he held still, and it was over as soon as it had begun. At almost the same moment Esh-erdi’s authority backed off, the tattoo on his chest tingled. It was the first time he’d felt a physical sensation from it since Joe had asked to modify the terms right before their final lesson.

Guess that was our final, final lesson.

It was fine. There was no reason for him to feel like garbage.

“That was so fast,” he said.

Esh-erdi had traded out his three-braid hairstyle for a single, over-the-shoulder ponytail. It was wrapped with metallic bands that reflected the red light in the hallway. “I was pleased to do it. If you think of any other troubles or wants…?”

He sounded hopeful.

Alden stood there, staring down at the ring Esh-erdi had given him. It was narrow and made of the same translucent green material as the nonagon. Four tiny logograms were etched onto it, evenly spaced around the outside. When Alden slid it over the index finger of his right hand, it expanded to fit.

“You must think it was stupid of me,” he said. “To have formed a private contract with that person.”

“I can’t judge your choice when I don’t know what the terms of the agreement were, what you thought to be true at the time, and what <<pressures>> he may have applied.” He paused, then added, “I do have more than enough knowledge of Ro-den’s errors to judge him, and I judge him to be selfish, <<reckless>>, and arrogant. Unforgivably so for a wizard of his age and <<alleged>> intelligence.”

That bad, huh?

“Thank you for removing the mark.”

“The ink will <<degrade>> quickly. I’m so good at breaking things.” He brightened. “Let’s go to your school! I’ve checked, and none of it is destroyed.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Would you like to take the sssnake with you? It may want fresh air. We could go get it.”

Alden smiled. “No. That’s okay. People don’t usually take snakes to school.”

Esh-erdi led the way to the elevator. ““I’ll be busy for most of the day, but if our schedules align, perhaps you could give me a tour of your campus.”

“Sure. Yes…that sounds…”

Alarming. What was Alden going to do with a tourist knight? Where would he even take one? What would people think?

“I hope our flight there will take your mind off whatever worries you,” Esh-erdi said. “It’s such a relaxing way to travel.”

******

Alden thought there was a chance that the flying platform he was on was really called The Nine-edged Son Whose Own Mother Forsakes Him. Esh-erdi, who’d taken the ring back temporarily, was demonstrating how to drive it.

The sky was partly cloudy, but the sun was peeking through now. There was very little air traffic between the island and the cube, and Alden doubted there was any sea traffic that wasn’t involved in cleaning up the spill. So they had the route all to themselves. He sat in the center, right beside Esh-erdi, and wondered about the name as they zipped toward Anesidora fast enough that the wind was making his face numb.

On one hand, “mother-forsaken” was shorter in Artonan. It could be conveyed with a single logogram. On the other, Alden thought it might be a curse word, and Esh-erdi was working it into the conversation much more often than seemed necessary.

“And that’s how you command The Nine-edged Son Whose Own Mother Forsakes Him!” he announced, extending his arm to increase the speed yet again. “It’s all sensible. Just remember that to rise, you point the ring down, and to fall, you hold your thumb against the ‘soothe’ symbol. Like this!”

Alden had learned within the first few seconds of their journey what to expect from the knight’s driving. They’d gone up to the roof of Matadero, where Alden, anticipating a gentle experience like he’d gotten when he and Zeridee were rescued, had tried standing on the platform. Only to find himself a centimeter from falling over the edge as they rocketed forward.

The person wearing the driver’s ring could glue themselves in place by making sure the ring was correctly rotated on their finger. Passengers were on their own.

Now, he was better prepared, but he still yelped when the magical craft dropped toward the surface of the ocean.He felt like he was leaving his stomach behind him.

“Are you ready to try?” Esh-erdi asked as soon as they leveled out over the water again.

Is he kidding?

It was a zoomy magic toy. Of course Alden wanted to try it.

“Make sure you speak its name,” Esh-erdi said before he passed the ring over. “To show it respect.”

Alden felt his lips working. He tried to keep his grin respectful just in case this wasn’t a joke. “Is that its real name?”

“Why would I give it a false one?” the knight asked.

I just can’t tell, Alden thought, trying to interpret the Artonan’s facial expression.

“All right,” he said, slipping the ring onto his own finger. “Let’s go, Nine-edged Son Whose Own Mother Forsakes Him.”

The platform dipped and rose, glided and stopped, and he started to get the hang of it.

When it came to taking your mind off the morning’s disappointments, learning to fly was hard to beat. Even two days ago, while Alden had been half-dead and exhausted in the wake of his rescue, he’d thought, This is a cool flying nonagon. I wish I had a flying nonagon.

And he was sure anyone who wasn’t acrophobic or anti-magic would have thought exactly the same thing.

It was big enough to carry a few people. You could see through it. You drove it by pointing your finger. It flew.

Does it do loop-the-loops? he wondered as he extended his arm to increase the speed. I want it to do loop-the-loops.

Dropping Esh-erdi into the ocean wouldn’t be a great way to repay him for the new experience, though.

I mean, he’s strong. He could just hold onto the edge. Or to me.

He had a sudden mental image of himself saying, “Hold onto me, Hn’tyon Esh-erdi. We really have to do a flip now. Because.”

Letting go of that idea took him longer than it should have.

The wind whipped around him, and the air smelled clean. The nonagon responded to every twitch of his finger.

Flying the platform was just challenging enough to seem like a game, and for a few minutes, Alden lost himself in the process of changing speed, adjusting course, and directing them higher or lower according to his own whim. Other than pointing out that they had turned too far to the south once, Esh-erdi seemed content to be quiet and enjoy the ride.

Alden completely forgot to wonder whether or not the waves below him were still carrying Sinker Sender particles, and he almost forgot to feel shitty because of the meeting with Joe. When he spotted Anesidora on the horizon, though, he suddenly remembered something else.

“The contract tattoo!” he exclaimed.

“Do you have another you want gone?”

“No.” Alden pulled his hand back toward his torso to slow them down. They were only about six meters above the waves at the moment. “I mean the Matadero contract tattoo. The one I’m supposed to get so that I can’t talk about what I’ve seen at the cube. We forgot it.”

Esh-erdi looked up from polishing one of his other numerous rings. “I didn’t forget.”

“I definitely did.” What a strange coincidence to be getting another one less than an hour after asking someone to remove part of his first. “If we’re going to do it now—”

Esh-erdi made a flapping gesture with one hand. The meaning of it wasn’t very clear. “We’ll do it later. When your thoughts are clearer and you aren’t on your way to school. We don’t have a reason to rush.”

Alden slowed them down even more, until they were almost hovering rather than flying. “We don’t? I’m leaving Matadero, though. I’m about to be surrounded by people.”

“Please don’t give those people any details about the cube,” said Esh-erdi.

“I won’t,” said Alden. “Of course. On my phone calls, I was careful not to even say that I was staying there.”

“You may tell people that much.”

“But…”

Esh-erdi didn’t do him the favor of filling the silence.

“Shouldn’t you be more worried about me making a mistake?” Alden asked.

“Are you going to make a mistake?” Esh-erdi’s tone was calm.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

No, thought Alden. But what if I were an irresponsible person who—?

As if to prove how unconcerned he was, Esh-erdi lay back on the platform and rested his hands on his stomach.

“You’re mature enough to practice <<proper discretion>>. And I don’t doubt your honesty. We’ll contract you to secrecy eventually because you aren’t <<invulnerable>> to the <<wickedness>> of others.” Esh-erdi smiled up at a cloud. “But I prefer that we take our time for that and discuss the matter together carefully. And I don’t want you to miss your school meeting! So, for now, I trust your word.”

Alden stared down at the knight. Just like that then?

“And I’ve ordered the Contract to teleport you to me immediately if someone attempts to violate your thoughts,” Esh-erdi announced.

“Uh…okay. That’s an option?”