Fabled (20 page)

“I’m delivering these new apprentices to the blacksmith,” Cale said while motioning to us. We nodded obediently.

The guards eyed us. One waved a lit torch in front of our faces. I wrinkled my brow and sort of frowned, in order to distort my feminine face. They looked at Humbert carefully, even lifting his beak to look at his neck. We stood there nervous. I tried to control my racing heart. I felt certain they could hear it as loudly as I could.

Whatever they saw on Humbert seemed to relax them.

“Pass,” one of them said while the other lifted the gate. We walked slowly in, as to not raise any suspicions. Cale lagged near the back. He limped and hunched over, pretending to be old and feeble.

“Keep your hoods up,” Cale whispered as we walked down the lonesome streets. There were few lights, and no one was stirring this early. Everyone was asleep except for guards, which meant we had to continue living in our disguises until we reached the blacksmith’s home.
 

When we approached the house, I saw it was made of stone and mortar. Each rock looked carefully placed and fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. The door was large with an iron handle. Before we reached the stoop, Humbert flew away. He made our story believable, so seeing him leave made me nervous.

When we reached the door, instead of knocking, like I thought Cale was going to do, he simply opened the door. The room was dark.

“Get in. Get in,” a man’s voice whispered.

Chester closed the door behind us. We all huddled together and waited for instructions on what to do next.
 

“Grab a lantern, Cilla,” the man said.

I heard someone rustling around nearby. Something fell.
 

“Good for nothin’ table,” she whispered as she slowly lit the wick. Her face shined from the light, exposing every year that she had lived. She wore her white hair in a high bun and wore a simple linen frock that dusted the floor.

With the room illuminated, I could see that the walls were wood, stacked horizontally one on top of the other. The rock fireplace matched the outside. Iron-working tools were scattered amongst the room. This was obviously where the blacksmith did his work. In the corner, an older man with white hair sat in a puny wooden chair. His wrinkled brows made his face appear to be in a permanent state of anger.

“Welcome,” he said in a scruffy voice. “We’ve been living with scrambled nerves for days waiting for yous guys to get here. Don’t y’all know that stress can lead to madness, especially when you live with an old bat like her?” He gruffed and looked over at the old woman.

“You, hush. I told everyone that we were excited to be getting some new help soon. I kept up the story, but it was hard not to worry about getting caught. Harboring traitors is a capital offence punishable by mindlessness. At least you can give me some credit.” She rolled her eyes and waddled herself into a chair.
 

“Mindlessness?” I asked.

“Damned royal-loving idiots. Turning decent folk into their personal entourage, only capable of filling their heads with hogwash. That’s what they do these days to people who go rogue,” the man answered.

“Thanks for your help in this,” Cale said.
 

“What’s the plan?” the man interrupted. “How do yous plan on attacking the armed and infamously dangerous royals? That’s what I’d like to know. I got you this far, but believe
you
me that I’m not going to risk getting turned into a shoe or whatever other thing they may find amusing. I’m not doing it,” the man hissed grumpily.

“We are still trying to iron out the details. For now, we need food and shelter.”

The man nodded and showed us to where we’d be staying. We walked through the rock arch into the back of the building, passing through a small living area and kitchen. Three doors lined a narrow hall that ran the width of the house. One went to their room, so he said. One went to a bathroom that looked more like an attached outhouse. It reminded of the bathing room at Tresel’s castle. The last room was ours.
 

“Here we are. The Misses will bring yous some blankets and pillows. The floor is pretty comfortable, for what it is.”

I looked down at the exposed earth below our feet. The dirt appeared anything but comfortable. He must have noticed my displeasure at the thought of sleeping on the ground because he said, “This is what we’ve got. Take it or leave it,” and walked away angrily.

“It’s not ideal, but at least we’re inside the court’s gates. We’ll figure everything out soon enough,” Chester reassured me. But who was he trying to fool? My heart beat rapidly inside my chest. My nerves were beyond rattled. The thought of going up against the royals was terrifying, and though I wanted to save Madeline, a part of me wanted to hide tail and run.

The old lady, who I found out was named Priscilla but went by Cilla, brought us blankets.
 

“We should get some rest,” Cale suggested. “Tonight we begin scouting.”

The tiny room could barely occupy the three of us stretched out on the floor. We each folded half our blankets, so that part of it was on the ground keeping us from lying on the bare earth and the other part we used as a cover. A primitive sleeping bag of sorts.

We lay in silence. I wrestled my thoughts, trying to make them submit to rest. The tiny barred window let the early sunlight shine in. I basked in its warmth as it fell on my face.

“Cale?” I broke the silence. “You never told me why you followed me in the forest. How did you know I was serious about helping Madeline?” I let the curiosity linger in my voice. I looked over at him, awaiting an answer. I could see the struggle in his face. His lips tightly pursed, as if to chew his words before he spewed them.

“At first when I saw you, I was curious. I saw what happened with the escape and how Madeline didn’t make it. Your face looked devastated the moment you realized you would have to leave her behind. When I later heard about your plans to help Madeline, I realized I would have to intervene if you were to stand a chance against the royals. Can I ask you something now?” he asked. “Why weren’t you afraid of the beast?”

“I was afraid at first, but I grew up with large dogs. It didn’t take me long to see, even through those terrifying eyes, you were just a kind pup underneath it all.”

“I knew something was different about you when you reached out to
pet
me. No one had ever done that. It was strange and angered me at first. Offended almost, because you weren’t scared of me like everyone else. But then I had an unexplainable overwhelming sense of happiness. You didn’t see me as a beast, and a part of me, a very small part, was glad of that,” he said.

“About that intervention, do you really think kidnapping was the most appropriate method?” Chester couldn’t resist.

“Just because she didn’t see me as a beast, doesn’t mean that I’m not entirely one,” Cale snapped.

I closed my eyes and felt content that I’d figured out one mystery of Mezzanine — Cale.

Chapter 20

Later that day, the boys aided the blacksmith in his shop. They wanted to keep up the appearance that they were the new help. I stayed hidden in the kitchen, under a mountain of dishes and clothes to wash. The large barrel of water served both as dishwasher and washing machine. The Rowena from before shuddered at the thought of this possibly being unsanitary, but this Roe was completely accustomed to dirt, unfortunately.

Cilla made sure I kept busy as much as Mack, the blacksmith, did with the boys. The two of them were definitely taking advantage of the extra help around the house.
 

Humbert divided his time between the kitchen and the shop, keeping a careful eye on us all. While I washed the dishes from lunch, he perched up on the window and flew away.

“Where is he going?” I asked Cilla.
 

“Who knows, child? He has stuff he’s gots to do, just like we do. He’s a messenger now that he’s got wings,” she said as she folded towels and placed them on the dining room table.

“Now?” I asked confused.

“You didn’t know?” she laughed a small laugh that exposed her toothless gums. “He’s our boy. Was our boy,” she corrected. “The royals made him this way because he had a dream of flying once. They caught him up on the castle’s wall about to try out a new contraption he’d made. Dresdem’s son, a dreadful bullyboy, was playing in the garden and saw our Humbert up there. He thought he’d make a spectacle of him in front of his friends — other royal fiends — and give our Humbert what he wanted. He came home an owl.”

“I’m so sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“Why so? He got his wish. He’s been flying ever since,” she said with a proud smile.

The idea of Humbert as a boy was unfathomable. He’s always been just a helpful bird in my eyes.

“How old was he?” I asked, hoping I’d be able to better envision him as a boy.
 

She thought a minute. “Five hundred or so.”

My eyes widened. “Oh, I meant how old was he when y’all were sent here?” I corrected.

“About seventeen or eighteen years, I guess,” she answered.

After cleaning and preparing supper, Cilla called the men in to wash up for supper. They walked wearily into the room covered with black smears. They each took turns at a bath then came and sat at the table. Cilla and I served the food and stood while we ate.
 

I watched Chester as he watched me. He’d give me a smile, and I’d return one. We stole every chance we could to admire each other.

Cilla and I cleaned up. It felt like being at my grandparent’s house, only with more chores and less decor. There was something comforting about being in the presence of these older people.
 

Afterward, I heated up some water from the well and drew my bath. I climbed in and rested my head on the back of the metal tub. Oddly enough, I was able to relax. As I was drifting into the corners of my mind, letting it flow from one topic to the next, someone tapped on the door.

“Who’s there?” I asked. No response. Then I heard the door push open.

“Wait!” I panicked and grabbed the towel. I draped it over the tub’s edges, which left only my head and shoulders exposed.

Humbert flew in and landed on the edge of the tub. The idea of him being a hormone driven boy inside of a wise, innocent-looking owl made me more conscious of my positioning. He didn’t seem bothered, though. He held out a foot containing a note in front of him.

Meet me upstairs.
It read.

“That’s it?”

He flew off, pulling the door lever closed.
Impressive
. I tried to make sense of how Humbert was able to open and close doors. Those wildly large feet were useful for more than just carrying notes.

I resumed my bath, wondering what awaited me upstairs. I stood in front of the old mirror. The glue had worn through the reflective glass and appeared on the front in black splotches. I stared at myself in the candlelit glow. Through the dark spots, I again saw the person I’d become since being in Mezzanine.
 

I tossed my wet curls, shaking them loose. I dressed, pinched my cheeks, and worked my lips to give them both color. When I was satisfied, I took my candle and found the stairs.
 

The house didn’t have a real upstairs. Cilla told me the stairs led to the rooftop. I followed the winding rock steps upward, trying the best I could to hold my candle steady. When I got to the top, I glanced out at the dark, flat roof. A three-foot tall rock rail encompassed it. Chester stood, leaning out over it.

“What’s there to see up here?” I said with a smile. He turned back to face me.

“You mean, besides me?” He grinned. “Come here. I want to show you something.” He extended his hand out to me.

We leaned over the rail and noticed that across the street stood a couple. They looked to be about our age. They were trying to hide in the shadows of the buildings, but from this angle we could see them clearly. The man whispered in her ear. Then they embraced. He must have said something funny because they both giggled. I glanced over at Chester; we both smiled.

“Let’s give them some privacy,” he said and took my hands. “How about a dance?” He asked twirling me towards him.

“But there’s no music?” I laughed.

“We can make our own music.”
 

And we did.

I placed my arms around his neck, and for the first time in a long time, I felt giddy. The butterfly in my stomach sputtered and so did my heart. His hands gripped my hips and pulled me closer. I felt his breath on my neck as our cheeks touched. We turned in slow circles and enjoyed the peace of the moment.

“My parents danced a lot. When it was late, after they’d put me to bed, they’d stay up and dance. Many nights I’d get up and watch them from the hall. I couldn’t help but hope that someday I’d be dancing in my home with my wife just like my father had. They never had music either,” he said. I pulled back and smiled. It was the first time I heard Chester talk about his parents, and it felt like a turning point in our relationship. He leaned in and kissed me gently. His warm lips set my body on fire. My entire being began to tingle. I melted into him.