ONE HUNDRED FORTY-SIX: Dawn III

146

******

 

“You seem to be devoted to your task.”

Alden’s stylus paused against the surface of the tablet, right in the middle of of writing the phrase “ewtwee acquisitive customs.” He’d been uninterrupted for hours. When he looked up, he saw a man in a familiar uniform standing just a meter away, regarding him with a tilted head.

“Hn’tyon Esh-erdi.”

Alden spoke a little blankly. He hadn’t been expecting anyone to find him here except for the healer, and he’d pictured the knights miles away, stopping mountains of water from collapsing, wading among the ruins, and hauling bodies from the depths.

Seeing Esh-erdi made him realize how out of it he’d been when he was rescued. The Artonan man had, for some reason, loomed very physically large in his memory.

But standing here now, his height was barely above average for his species. He wore a dull red coat with the broad sleeves cut at the elbow. It was highly decorated—tiny metal studs instead of embroidery, of course. The high-necked undershirt and harem pants were matching shades of golden brown. And he had a belt hung with pouches, wand loops, and a large hoop that held all the rings that wouldn’t fit comfortably on his fingers.

A fully kitted-out wizard.

Only he’s not just a wizard.

The knight’s sudden appearance dredged up an unfamiliar blend of gratitude, respect…and apprehension.

It also made Alden realize this was the first time he was properly meeting one of them in the flesh since he’d had time to process what they were. His little tour through the art’h household had been in the wake of a near-death experience and his affixation. He’d mostly been thinking about getting home. Since then, he’d only interacted with Evul-art’h for a minute or two at a time before she passed off her tablet. And then yesterday he’d been half-dead once more and fixated on Zeridee-und’h.

Now that danger was less imminent, complicated feelings were beginning to make themselves known. About the knight. About the fact that he’d saved Alden. About the information he might be bringing and the questions he might ask.

What does he want?

Esh-erdi had hair so dark it was hard to say for sure if it was black or a purple so close it might as well be, and his hands were clasped in front of him while he took his time examining Alden, too.

“You don’t have to use the title,” he said. “It makes me sound so serious. I would <<wager an Elkantchan orchard>> that the <<clamor>> coming from that direction is Porti-loth healing the und’h gir—woman.”

Alden nodded. “He started making that…loud…noise about two Earth hours ago.”

He wanted to call it a “hooting” noise, but he had no idea how to describe owl sounds in Artonan.

The knight looked down the hall for a while.

“It’s good he has so much stamina,” he said finally. “Healers who insist on being <<traditional to a tedious degree>> need it. You should have heard him when we arrived. Lind and I had barely taken the light of your world into our eyes for the first time, and there he was complaining. ‘Where is my grove? How long since we found this planet? Were we too lazy to grow a healing grove?’”

Alden smiled uncertainly. “He covered me in fish scales when I got here and sang to them.”

That healing spell had interacted with him on an existential level, which had made him pretty nervous about the healer noticing him noticing. But he hadn’t. A cast spell touching you wasn’t the same as an authority-to-authority pat, it seemed.

Alden had still been very careful not to make so much as a single peep with his own authority.

“Was that a new experience for you?” asked Esh-erdi.

“It was.”

“How fun.” He looked down the hall again as the hooting hit a fever pitch. “Has he told you anything about Zeridee-und’h’s condition?”

“No. I’m not sure where the Avowed who were here went either. When I woke up, I looked for them, but—”

“I received a message about that. They stayed for a time in case of more <<special cases>>, but they were eager to go back to their usual House to assist their <<colleagues>> there. It was allowed. We have plenty of other options if they’re needed.”

One of his eyes landed on Alden’s foot. “They did finish repairing you before they left, didn’t they?’

“They helped me, but Porti-loth told them I was his patient. I think we all understood that in a…I don’t know how to say ‘possessive’ in a polite way?”

“<<Grab-greedy like a toddler>>. But you are well?”

Alden really doubted that was a common polite way of saying “possessive,” but he liked it. “I’m fine. Much better than the last time you saw me. He helped a lot, but he said he still wanted to do a few things.”

“Porti-loth is competent. He won’t actually forget you even if he’s busy with something that seems to be more difficult than we hoped.” His face turned toward the hooting again. “It sounds as if he’s in the middle of it.”

Alden gestured toward the meal box in his lap. “I’ve been keeping this food the right temperature for them. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“What kind of food?” Esh-erdi asked, looking back at him.

Alden could tell by the gleam in the knight’s eyes that the food was about to be commandeered as long as it didn’t sound completely foul. “There’s some yogurt. A bowl of rice. Sandwiches. Do you want—?”

“Come with me. There are places much more <<appetizing>> than this one. He’ll call me when he’s completed his current ritual. If he doesn’t <<exsanguinate>> himself.”

 

******

 

Esh-erdi took Alden to a living room that had clearly been designed for Artonan comfort. The temperature was closer to hot than warm, wood featured heavily in the decor, and a wevvi press stood inside its own special cabinet.

There were adjoining rooms with closed doors. He was guessing this was Esh-erdi’s personal suite or one he shared with Lind-otta. The place looked lived-in, which made sense if they’d been here for weeks. And unless there was some other explanation for the corner dedicated to random objects, then they’d been enjoying the equivalent of mail order shopping through the embassy.

Among other things, they had a pair of matching cuckoo clocks, a chrysalis in a display case, and the widest variety of sugar sprinkles he had ever seen.

Alden wasn’t in the right mood to be amused by the fact that at least one Artonan considered sprinkles to be worthy of the interesting-Earth-items corner, but he did make note of it.

“We will converse here,” Esh-erdi said, leading him over to a pair of low, cushioned chairs by the first real window Alden had seen on Matadero. It was too dark outside for there to be much of a view.

He swallowed.

He couldn’t imagine what the two of them would be conversing about. A few minutes ago, he would have assumed the knights were much too busy to talk to him about anything. It couldn’t be a purely social chat. On the way here, he’d thought of so many different kinds of terrible news Esh-erdi could deliver.

The man in the flyer survived, and he’s accusing you of murdering his friends.

You know we can’t just let a human wizard run around living among the other humans and causing mass confusion, don’t you? Pack your bags.

Attacks on other locations happened while you slept. Tens of thousands are dead. Anesidora is gone.

We are furious with your species and have decided every Avowed on Earth has to spend half the year slaying demons from now on.

“You look nervous.” Esh-erdi had kicked off his shoes and tossed aside his belt as they entered. He sat down in one of the chairs and leaned forward to reach for the box in Alden’s arms.

Alden handed it over before taking his own seat. “No. I’m well. It’s been a strange day. Night. That’s all.”

“Strange. Unhappy.” Esh-erdi was sniffing each of the sandwiches in the box and reading the labels on the wrappers curiously. “I do feel lucky that I pulled you from the water with Zeridee-und’h. I will << make a big deal out of a small matter for humorous purposes>> about it the next time I meet the Quaternary.”

Could that not just have been translated as “joke around?” Alden wondered.

“I’ll say she obviously allowed a <<curse>> to <<latch onto>> your back when she teleported you with that older method.” He chuckled delightedly and wriggled his fingers over the sandwiches once more before grabbing a BLT.

Were curses real? Or was the idea of them being real what made teasing Alis-art’h about them funny?

Probably the second.

Esh-erdi didn’t seem like the kind of person who would laugh at actual misfortune.

Alden tried to sort himself out and think of how it was he was supposed to behave when he was watching a knight who’d just saved his life, and whom Stuart had spoken highly of, dip a sandwich into a cup of Greek yogurt. After returning from what Alden could only hope was unflooding a city.

That’s right. Stuart. I forgot.

“Hn’tyon Esh-erdi—”

“You’re using the title again?”

“I wanted to congratulate you both on your esvulgivnas,” Alden said, glad that the word was at least one he could pronounce. He wasn’t clear on what relationship it celebrated, but Stuart had said that he was supposed to deliver the congratulations to both involved parties even if he was only talking to one of them.

A surprised look crossed the Artonan’s face. He’d shoved nearly a quarter of a sandwich into his mouth while Alden was speaking, and his jaws worked while he lifted one eye from his contemplation of the food box, so that both were pointed at Alden.

Did I say it wrong after all?

Esh-erdi finished chewing. “Thank you. I’m not sure if my usual response is appropriate for…well, I see no reason not to. I hope you also find someone worthy of <<breaking>> yourself with one day.”

Alden blinked. That word that was being translated as “breaking” wasn’t any of the ones he knew that meant something similar, and the use of that version of “yourself” indicated they were talking about something that affected everything Esh-erdi was.

I have no clue. But I totally knew it was going to be Intensity Level 99.9. Does the uniform obliterate their ability to operate at a lower level? I bet it does. Happy knight honeymoon equals some kind of tandem breakage of their very beings.

He hoped that Earth’s translation of “breaking” was just as incomplete as its translation of “honeymoon” had been. Or that Esh-erdi was being poetic.

Stuart had seemed really happy for them, which would imply that nothing scary was going on if Stuart was a normal person. But he was Stuart.

They’ve been growing a sprinkle collection and buying matching clocks, dummy. They clearly like each other, and it’s obviously not an unpleasant event.

“I’m curious,” said Esh-erdi. “How did you know?”

“Stu-art’h told me,” Alden said.

Esh-erdi’s brows lifted and he hummed a high note. “So Zeridee-und’h wasn’t just naming random members of that family. I wondered if it was a product of her injuries. Now I’m even more curious.”

“Stu-art’h is my…”

Zeridee had been startled by the word ‘friend.’ We are friends, though, aren’t we?

Stuart hadn’t technically given Alden permission to call him Stu, but that didn’t feel like a big deal considering the fact that he’d named a pet after Alden, invited him over to his house, and given him a perfect learning cushion.

“We’re becoming friends.”

“Are you?” Esh-erdi sounded intrigued. “With the Primary’s youngest? How are you managing that?”

Alden didn’t know exactly how he meant the question. “We met at LeafSong. I was summoned to help with a problem some of the students were having. And now we talk on the weekends. Evul-art’h helps—”

“Oh. Evul. Yes. She does have a reputation as <<a disregarder>> of rules, conventions, and solid objects.” He pulled a piece of bacon off of the sandwich and peered at it. “Aren’t you interesting?”

Alden didn’t answer because he wasn’t sure if the knight was talking to him or the cured meat.

“Lind and I were pleased to relax here because your planet has, until now, been <<charmingly>> uneventful.”

Alden’s worries, just beginning to fade thanks to the conversation having been lighter than he’d feared, were suddenly front and center again.

How is everything out there? Is he avoiding mentioning it on purpose?

He couldn’t feel any chaos, but he still found it all too easy to let the reasonable image of flooded streets in his thoughts turn into something that made no sense. Grass stretching into the distance, rotting away.

Stolen story; please report.

He made himself refocus on the knight.

“I’m sorry I needed saving,” he said. “There was a flyer for me at the ambassador’s. Zeridee wanted me to get on it immediately. But she also didn’t think Earth was really in global danger. So it seemed safe enough to wait a little while for her, so that we could get off Anesidora together.”

It had gone so wrong so quickly. And for such an incomprehensible reason.

“I didn’t want to leave her alone,” he said. “But she might not have been so badly hurt if I’d done what she told me to at first. They might have attacked her still, but instead of fighting, she might have run.”

Initially, had she fought the Avowed to protect herself? Or to protect the flyer for Alden? He had no way of knowing since he hadn’t been in the greenhouse when it happened.

Esh-erdi was putting his bacon back onto his sandwich.

“This is what I wanted to talk to you about. But first, don’t apologize for trying to take the correct course. <<Bad outcomes>> often make good efforts and good intentions look like <<foolishness>>. It doesn’t mean that making a good effort with a good intention was a mistake. How else should one act?” He pulled up his feet and sat cross-legged in the chair. “And I hope you know you aren’t obligated to follow an instruction just because an Artonan delivers it.”

“I know that. Of course.”

“Then <<accept with grace>> my need to <<reiterate the point.>>”

Alden felt his eyebrows lifting, and with effort, he pulled them back down so that he wouldn’t be making funny faces at the important person.