Heads or Tails (14 page)

Ivyanne let out a delicate snort. ‘Young guys can be
morons
,’ she said, thinking of Lincoln and Tristan and their most recent offenses.

‘Yeah... best bet is usually to go for the oldest one,’ Garridan said, giving her an uncharacteristic wink. ‘Twenty years can be the difference between a boy and a man, Ivyanne.’

Tristan
. He was talking about Tristan. Ivyanne had been waiting for Garridan to throw his hat into the ring on his nephews behalf, but for three weeks, he had restrained himself. Obviously, the scotch was doing it’s job- loosening both his mood and his tongue.

‘So three
hundred
years must be a
super
-human advantage, right? Naw Garridan, if you want to marry me... just ask.’

Garridan snorted and Camus laughed.

‘Why?’ Garridan joked. ‘By the time you make up your mind, both boys will be approaching their three hundredth birthday’s anyway, won’t they, your highness?’

Ivyanne raised an eyebrow, lifted her hand and stared at Garridan’s whisky glass. When it slapped into her palm, some of the amber liquid spilling over the side and dribbling down her wrist, she was just as surprised as Garridan clearly was. It had worked! She had controlled it! But she tried to hide her joy behind a façade of nonchalance.

‘I think you’ve had enough,’ she said sweetly, placing the glass on the coffee table in front of her. ‘Want me to get you a water?’

Garridan, open-mouthed, just as Camus was, shook his head wordlessly. Ivyanne smiled and went back to her work-she’d answer his questions when his shock wore off.

Heads Or Tails Book #3 in The Fairytail Saga S.K Munt

8.

Ardhi was mentally exhausted from thinking everything, and physically exhausted from doing nothing, both for an extended period of time. He’d crept inland in the dead of night and lain in wait in the dense foliage down the side of Ivyanne’s house for twenty-seven hours straight but had seen nothing. Now it was Friday morning and he was cold and tired and annoyed.

He thought of Sherri, camped out on Long Island with their three new recruits playing the lazy tourist and mer-guide, and ground his teeth together. His clothes were stained from the pine bark in the garden and he was damp and freezing from the late summer dew. His body was aching all over too from being in such a stiff position, and he was
desperate
for a swim.

Still, he didn’t dare leave his post. Luck had not been on his side for some time, so he wouldn’t be surprised if something happened when he took a five minute break and he needed to know who was coming and going to the house before he attempted to breach it’s boundaries.

So Ardhi stayed where he had awoken, cold and cramped and in a dark mood while his lower legs began to scale with dry skin. He fingered the vial of Irukanji poison in his pocket that he’d kept from the night the Court family and co had tried to kill him with it-proof that his darkest actions had been committed in self defense. They had pushed him to this point with their actions. A species of creatures who turned against their strongest example after glimpsing their own darkness reflected back at them
through
him.

He was a monster, yes, but
they
had created him.

A car pulled to a gentle stop halfway up the Court’s cobblestone drive. It was a nondescript sedan, bright blue and obviously well looked after. A woman got out of the drivers’ side, her reddish brown hair twisted into an elegant roll on the back of her neck. As she walked around to the trunk of the car and popped the boot, there was an efficient, graceful energy about her.

But she was a stranger and a human.

Ardhi peered closer. The woman pulled a large sign out of the back of the car, and a small mallet. She then looked around for a moment, assessing the perfectly cut lawn with a wrinkled nose, before selecting a spot and hammering the sign into the moist earth. It was facing away from him, but there was enough morning sun shining off the water near where she stood for Ardhi to make out the words: ‘OPEN HOUSE’ in reverse.

Open house?
Ardhi thought in disbelief, gazing up at the elegant white stucco and red-tiled manor with surprise.
Ivyanne is selling her mother’s house?

Ardhi couldn’t believe it. Vana and Ash had been living in the house since five years before Ivyanne was born. It was the official residence of the king and queen-a four million dollar property he knew had increased in value every year since they’d purchased it. How could Ivyanne, a girl so sentimental, bear to part with such memories?

The real-estate agent trotted back up the driveway. Ardhi watched her unlock the door and enter, amazed. In his twelve years of living in the area, he’d never seen a human’s foot cross the threshold. Vana had even had mer-
maids.

Ardhi got out of the bushes and brushed himself off, almost crying out when a cramp ran down his left leg. He hobbled towards the driveway, frowning up at the house. He was two meters from the front door when the agent looked out and saw him, and flinched in surprise.

‘Good morning!’ she managed to stutter, recovering quickly. She smoothed her jacket. ‘Can I help you son? This is a private property.’

Ardhi smiled his brightest smile and gestured back to the sign. ‘It says
Open House
?’

She looked him up and down, reminding Ardhi that he probably looked like hell. ‘Uh, yes, erm but that doesn’t start until ten. If you’d like to use the bathroom, there’s a public one on the esplanade just a few-’

Ardhi chuckled, feigning good humor. ‘Actually no, I live nearby. I was just out for a morning walk when I stumbled and had a bad landing in some wet bushes.’ He smiled brightly. ‘I’m actually very interested in the property. I’ve always admired it. What happened to my dear neighbors, the Courts?’

The agent bit her lip. ‘Unfortunately, the Courts passed away a few weeks ago. Their daughter is selling the estate. It’s very unfortunate, but she’s quite eager to sell, so the buyer will get the right price.’

‘Is it furnished?’ He asked, eyeing the windows but seeing nothing through the tinted glass. Ash had always kept his crown on the bedside table-if it was gone then Ardhi wouldn’t know where to look! ‘I loved the way they had it set up.’

‘Oh? I never saw it. Their things were boxed and and moved out before I got the call.’

Ardhi’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Young Ivyanne is quite efficient it seems.’

‘Yes it all happened rather suddenly. I imagine she’s eager to put some distance between herself and the tragedy. Losing both parents at once-can you imagine?’

Ardhi could. All too well. He’d not only seen her wrenching anguish, but felt his own when his parents had screamed abuse at him. ‘Yes. I can.’

The woman smiled timidly, reaching into her wallet and pulling out a card. ‘If you’d like to come back later, Mister…?’

‘Dwayne is fine,’ Ardhi said, naming the man who owned the property next to his parents house. ‘I will come back later, better dressed, I should add.’ He grinned. ‘I’d love to pass my condolences along to their daughter. I don’t suppose you have a contact number….?’

But the woman shook her head. ‘I’m sorry Dwayne, but the daughter has left the country for the time being. Apparently, she has business to conduct overseas, so all I have is her e-mail address, and I’m afraid that’s confidential.’

Overseas?
Ardhi’s heart sank. His twenty seven hour wait suddenly seemed like child’s play. ‘Well, that’s a shame. But never mind, I think I have her e-mail jotted down somewhere.’ He gave her a small, friendly wave. ‘I’ll see you later this morning.’

‘Looking forward to it,’ she said, the look in her eyes insincere. ‘Thank you Dwayne.’

‘Thank you.’

Ardhi pretended to walk casually down the street. He felt vulnerable, being out in the open like that, but he didn’t want to raise the agents suspicions. He waited until he was behind a line of mango trees before fading into the undergrowth once more, punching the nearest trunk in frustration. The game of hide and seek had just gone global. He would need a bigger net, and a
lot
more information.

*

‘Okay Link so Ardhi has you by the collar…’ Price tugged on the collar of Lincoln’s Billabong shirt, his grey eyes shining. ‘Now you know what he wants to do next, is punch you right in the mouth with his other hand, yes?’

‘Right.’ Lincoln said, though he hadn’t actually known that.

‘Okay good. So you don’t want that-your instinct is going to tell you to throw your head back, but you will get a broken nose if you do. So shrug
this
shoulder down,’ Price shook his shirt again. ‘.. and lean your body into mine-do not give him range.’

Lincoln twisted his shoulder down, head-butting Price’s rock-hard chest. ‘Like that?’

‘Yes friend.’ Price had a very exact way of speaking, the result of a Swedish boy having spent time in The Middle East. His brother Sven-who Lincoln would never stop thinking of as annual guest Steve- had been around Australians for a solid decade, and used a lazier tongue. They were polar opposites in so many ways, but shared a common sort of composure. You’d never imagine either man crying, or laughing hysterically, or even raising their voices. Lincoln admired that. Not even Tristan was that self-contained.

‘Except as you push into me, you are going to take the fingers of the other hand, your index and middle-and you’re going to strike me here-’ Price patted the small notch between his collarbones. ‘As hard as you can.’

‘Right.’ Lincoln said.

Price smiled. A rare expression for him, one of anticipation. ‘Ready to try it?’

Lincoln looked up. ‘You want me to actually
do
it?’

‘Of course! We are in training, aren’t we?’

Lincoln squinted in the bright sunlight. ‘Won’t I hurt you?’

‘That’s the point.’ His eyes glanced towards the house then back at Lincoln. ‘Don’t worry, I can take it.’ Price pushed him back. ‘Ready?’

Lincoln wasn’t, but he couldn’t wuss out now. Not with the rest of the guard watching him. He was still amazed that he’d been chosen at all. ‘Okay.’

Price moved into action immediately. Before Lincoln had a chance to over-think it, he dropped his shoulder and struck Price’s clavicle with his fingertips, feeling them sink in softly as Price’s arm flew harmlessly by his head. Price had turned away before Lincoln had straightened, and was rubbing his throat with a tight smile.

‘Ouch.’ Ivyanne’s cousin said. ‘Good job!’

Lincoln was flooded with relief. He was so afraid that when he’d been accepted into the guard, that he’d volunteered himself to be humiliated instead of heroic. But he was picking up things easier than even he’d hoped, and all of the months in the gym were helping him keep up with everyone. In fact, he’d surpassed Lachlan and Camus already in knife-throwing and target shooting. It made him feel proud, and slightly wondrous. ‘I did it?’

‘You certainly did. I mean,
I
got away before you could hit too hard-but anyone not anticipating it would have let you go.’

‘Yay Lincoln!’ Lachy said.

‘Atta boy.’ Chimed in Camus.

Lincoln smiled proudly. ‘Cool! Thanks!’

‘I taught you that because breaking a grip is important, especially if you’re defending yourself from someone with a knife instead of a fist.’ Price tousled his dark hair and bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, making it clear that the action was giving him a rush and that he was keen for more.

‘Or a lightning bolt.’ Garridan pointed out. ‘The ability to get away from Ardhi is of upmost import. Physically, he’s not that strong, but it’s his
touch
that’s lethal.’

‘What if I want to attack
him
?’ Lincoln asked, picking up his water bottle and having a quick drink. It was strange because he wasn’t sweating (he couldn’t now) and yet his human memories had him reaching for hydration on instinct every chance he got. ‘Say he’s going to throw that purple light crap at someone else but I’m in a position to sneak up on him somehow…?’ He was thinking of course, about the engagement party and that moment when Tristan and Ivyanne had been down and Vana had leapt to their defense. If Ivyanne hadn’t drained him, Lincoln knew he would have been the first across the room. Which meant he’d probably be dead because he’d had no tactics up his sleeve.

‘You’d stop Ardhi from doing that the same way you would stop anyone from firing a gun.’ Tristan got up off the grass, dusting his hands on his black drawstring pants and approaching Lincoln. ‘Want me to show you?’

Lincoln really didn’t like being Tristan’s student, but he’d seen him best everybody he had come up against that morning. He had to admit, that Tristan had a lot more than pretty and thick-skinned going for him. And in his black singlet and artfully draped slacks, he looked as graceful and dangerous as Sahori. ‘Fire away.’

‘Okay, turn around.’ Tristan smiled. ‘
You’re
going to be Ardhi. Back to me, pointing at Garridan, like he’s Ivyanne and you’re going to taser him.’

Lincoln’s stomach filled with dread, but he tossed the bottle back onto the grass and turned obediently, pointing at Garridan. He noticed for the first time that Saraya, Pintang and Grace were at the window of one of their bedrooms, watching them train on the grass. He lifted his chin and tried not to look like he was about to piss his pants in front of the hottest girls he knew.

‘Okay so what you’re going to do is come up behind him, and cup his elbow with the same arm he’s got up,’ Tristan’s palm was under Lincoln’s elbow, ‘now thrust it up to the sky, where it can’t hurt anybody.’

Lincoln felt a hard slap as his arm was driven up directly above his shoulder. ‘Oh!’ he said, realizing he’d been unprepared for an
upwards
motion. ‘I get it!’

‘Good! Now at the same time, strike him however you can. Personally I’d want to snap his neck for trying to take what’s
mine
.’ Tristan’s tone was ominous, and Link wondered if there was a double entendre there. He also wondered if his neck was about to be publicly broken then made to look like an accident.

‘Um..okay…’

Tristan pulled Lincoln’s arm down again. ‘Like this-ready?’

Lincoln gulped, paranoid that he was about to get
seriously
hurt. But then his eyes darted to Grace again, who wasn’t attempting to hide her amusement. He reminded himself to act brave. Her crush was annoying even when sedated by the anger she’d been carrying around all week, but her laughter would be far worse. ‘Ready.’

‘Okay, so you slap
up
!’ Tristan thrust his arm skywards. Even though Lincoln tried to resist, it was too hard at that angle. His arm shot up. ‘Now with your other hand, reach across his face, grab his hair-’ Fingers caught a tuft of hair behind Lincoln’s ear as Tristan’s arm blocked his view. ‘Then yank-hard-in the opposite direction!’