Isle of Wysteria: The Monolith Crumbles (16 page)

“I thought they rejected your book?” Alder asked as he began braiding Athel’s auburn hair.

“They did, but I guess they changed their minds.”

Everyone looked at each other with concern.

“What’s wrong?” Margaret asked, her enthusiasm fading. “I thought you’d be happy for me.”

Mina’s tail flicked about worriedly. “We are, sweetie. It’s just that the timing of this is…well…”

“It’s fishy lass,” Captain Evere said, picking at his teeth.

Margaret tried to be positive. “Like…a really expensive caviar dish kind of fishy?”

Evere sucked on his gums. “No, like catfish left to rot underneath a stove kind of fishy.”

Margaret looked hurt. “So…you don’t think I can do it?”

“It’s not that, Margaret,” Athel explained. “It’s that Thesda is still firmly sided with the League.”

Margaret brushed a blonde lock out of her face in thought, then perked up. “Well, I never resigned my commission. I’m still technically in the navy, assigned to the Dreadnaught. I’ll just tell them that I never got any new orders after the Dreadnaught was destroyed, so I decided to come back to Thesda and check back in first chance I got. Then everything will be okay, right?”

“You’d be going into enemy territory. Plus, you’re closely associated with us. Spirea might be trying to draw you into a trap.”

Margaret was shocked. “Me? Why would she do that? I’m really not that important. My family back on Stretis are merchants, not true nobles.”

“Well, you are the only Stormcaller on our side, so she’d be depriving us of a valuable asset. Or she could hold you for ransom, try to blackmail us.”

Margaret’s glasses slipped down to the tip of her nose. “Asset? Is that all I am to you?”

Athel crinkled her nose. “No, of course not. My goodness, when did you become so easy to offend?”

Captain Evere raised an eyebrow. “She’s always been like that, lass, you just never cared about offending people before.”

Evere braced himself for a biting retort from her, but Athel only looked at him a little regretfully.

“Yes, you’re right, I was that way.”

Evere raised his bushy eyebrows. “Wow, you really are a different person now.”

Athel turned back to Margaret. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean it to sound like that. You are our friend, not just some tool to be used, but Spirea will see you that way, and she won’t hesitate to treat you like one.”

Margaret shrunk into herself, her hands clutching over her heart.

“I just…I was just so happy. I worked so hard on that book.”

She looked up, tears in her eyes. “Does this mean I can never go home again? Just because I was assigned to the same ship as you guys?”

Everyone looked on her with sympathy.

Athel reached out and took her hand. She held it softly until Margaret got the strength to look up into her eyes. “Look, it might be nothing; we might just be overly paranoid. But, we’re at war and you are our friend. We don’t want you to get hurt.”

Margaret sniffed. “I know, and I appreciate it. Please don’t think that I don’t. You guys were nicer to me than my own family. It’s just that…well…this was my dream.”

They were all moved by the simple wish of her heart. In a world of turmoil and war, Margaret was one of those people who didn’t need anything big or complicated to be happy.

Athel tried to clear her head of doubts. “Look, I’m sorry we were suspicious. There’s no proof Spirea is behind this. I guess after her message the other day, she’s got us all spooked. Perhaps that was her plan all along. This is great news and we are happy for you. If you choose to accept this position, we’ll support that decision. Just, please be careful.”

Margaret pushed up her glasses and took heart. “Okay, I will.”

Mina grinned playfully. “So, does this mean we get to call you Professor Gerstun?”

Margaret perked up. “Oh, please do.”

“We’ll get you a briar pipe and a monocle,” Evere teased.

Margaret jumped up. “Oh, I just realized, I’ve got to grab some stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“Well, if I am going to be teaching classes on Wysteria, I should have some visual aids to show the students.”

She ran for the door but then stopped. “…can I…?”

Athel waved her hand. “Take as much as you want; anything you want is yours.”

Margaret clapped her hands. “Yay! First thing I’m going to get is one of those seed-pistols!”

Alder grew concerned and ran after her. “Wait, Miss Gerstun. The pistols in the statuary corridor are family heirlooms, you can’t just...”

At the sound of breaking glass, Alder panicked and ran down the corridor.

* * *

“You really don’t have to make a fuss over me,” Dwale bade as Dr. Griffin made some adjustments to the arrangement of artificial eyes lying on the table before them.

“It’s no fuss, I’m paying him good money for his services,” Setsuna said as she leaned back in her chair, nearly tipping it over.

“That’s what I mean,” Dwale explained, looking sheepish. “If you invest too much money in me, you will never get value for your investment.”

Setsuna laughed. “Bogs, you Wysterian men sure are something. “Even as you are treated like property you sit there, diligently looking out for your owner’s best interest, making sure she doesn’t lose money on you.”

“It’s only good manners,” Dwale explained.

“Well, it’s my money, and I will use it as I please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Setsuna placed a slim finger against his lips. “My mother is ‘ma’am,’ you will call me by my first name.”

Dwale looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“How about ‘your almighty-ness?’” Dr. Griffin suggested as he placed his hand over a marble, a light emanating from his hand, changing its color to blue. “Or perhaps Empress.”

“Oh, I like that.”

Dwale perked up. “Are you an Empress?”

“As far as you know, I could be. Call me Empress.”

“Yes, Empress.”

Setsuna wiggled happily in her chair. “Heh, heh, this is fun.”

Dr. Griffin held up the artificial eye and placed it against Dwale’s forehead, then held up a card in front of him with various colors and shapes. “Okay, let’s try this one, can you see any better?”

Dwale pinched his brow. “The lines are clearer…but the colors seem…off somehow. I’m sorry, it’s been so long since I’ve seen anything; it’s hard to tell.”

Dr. Griffin coughed into his hand, then looked around. Finding no napkins nearby, he wiped the phlegm off on Dwale’s shoulder. “Take your time, there is no rush. Sooner or later I will die of old age or boredom, after all.”

“This is amazing,” Dwale gushed, nearly bursting with anticipation. “To think that there exists magic that can heal even an unmarried man. You are a genius, Dr. Griffin.”

Dr. Griffin gawked at him.

“Did I say something wrong?”

Dr. Griffin shook his aged head. “No, it’s just, I don’t understand you people.”

Setsuna’s pointed ears twitched. “What do you mean, ‘you people?’”

Dr. Griffin threw up his hands. “Well, you cure Pockrit’s Syndrome; everyone calls you a hero. You create a carrot that can scream, and everyone calls you a madman. Now I make a blind man see and you’re all happy. I just don’t understand why your reactions are so random and confusing.”

Setsuna’s eyes narrowed. “You made a carrot that can scream?”

“Just the one. I don’t see why someone should get kicked out of medical school just for that. Do you?”

Setsuna stared stupidly at him. “You know what? You’re giving me a headache; I need to eat some candy.”

Dr. Griffin began rummaging through his pockets. “I think I have something for headaches…I think I read somewhere once that if you use just the right amount of cobra venom…”

“Don’t bother, just finish the eyes.”

“…or maybe that was a dream I had once…hmm, I’ll have to test it. Where’s the galley on this ship?”

“Focus, old man.”

Dwale rotated the stone down so he could see the others lying out on the table. “To be honest, I’d be happy with any of these.”

“Well, they all cost about the same amount, so you might as well find the one that gives you the best vision.”

Dwale pointed to a jade pair and Dr. Griffin began adjusting it. Setsuna pulled a stressed finger through the air, creating a tear. She reached inside and pulled out some taffy. Halfway through her third bite, she noticed Dwale looking anxious.

“May I ask you something?” he whispered.

Setsuna shrugged. “You may ask, doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

Dwale fidgeted. “You are a woman. Why are you being so kind to me?”

The question gave her pause. She sat forward in her chair and pulled out another piece of taffy. “Not all women are like your leaf-witches, you know? Take my sister Sawyn, for example.”

Dwale perked up. “What was she like?”

Setsuna smiled nostalgically. “Oh, she was the most gentle creature you could ever know. Her room was always filled with cages. Stray animals she’d pick up, injured erra mice and field etros. It didn’t matter how mangy or ill-tempered they were, she’d bring them home, her eyes wide as a kitten’s, pleading for my father to let her care for them.”

Her eyes grew distant. “But father hated critters. He was a good man, but the drink made him bad, you know what I mean?”

Dwale shook his head innocently.

Setsuna chuckled. “Well, it’s probably better that you don’t. He’d come home sometimes screaming her name, calling for her to come to him. It would kill me to see her little eyes filled with fear like that. He’d tear apart the house looking for her. I was the oldest, so it was my job to protect her. I’d hide her in the potato cellar, along with as many animals as we could stuff down there. Then, I’d lock it tight and hide the key. He’d scream at me, hit me, kick me, demanding to know where the key was, but I would never tell him. In the morning he’d wake up and ask me where the bruises came from. I’d lie. I told him it was a neighborhood bully. Finally, one night, he went too far. He threw me back into a cabinet filled with dishes. Everything broke, every plate, every cup, everything. I was cut up pretty bad. But he saw the cubby behind the saucers where I kept the cellar key hidden. He scooped it up and threw open the lock so fast I barely knew what was happening. All I could hear were the screams of the animals, and Sawyn crying as he came after her.”

Setsuna put down the piece of taffy and crossed her leg, massaging her foot through the black leather boot she wore. “I picked myself up and tried to run after him, but there was a big old shard of plate embedded in my foot. So I crawled instead. When I found him, he had cut off half her hair with this big old rusty pocketknife he had, and he was threatening to cut her clothes off as well. Sawyn was screaming for him to stop, but he wouldn’t listen. To this day, I still wonder why that stupid fat trog just wouldn’t listen to her.”

Setsuna looked down at her hands, enraged. “I had never been so angry in my life. Here was this perfect little person, this pure thing, and he was going to take her and make her as filthy as he was. I reached out with my hand, I didn’t even know what I was doing; I just did it. I focused all of my hate, every drop of my anger right at him. I screamed so loud that I popped both of my eardrums…and then it happened.”

Dwale was riveted. “What happened?”

“The world listened. It responded to my hate. Reality itself folded itself right on top of him, and he was gone. That’s when my magic first manifested, the day I first learned that I was a Gatemaster.”

“Where did you send him?”

“I’m still not sure. But, wherever it was, he never came back.”

She shook herself off and tried to act cheerful. “Anyway, when the sherrifs found out what I had done, Sawyn and I were separated. She went to live with a foster family somewhere in the western swamp. I never did see her again. Sometimes I wonder if she is okay. I like to think that she is, that she finally found a quiet little place and lives in peace. She deserved that much.”

“What about you?”

Setsuna looked up. “Oh, me? “I went to live in a nice cozy dungeon, specially made to hold patricidal Gatemasters. About three years into my sentence a pirate raid hit the castle, and I saw my chance. I pleaded with them to take me with them, and they did. I became a pirate. The rest is history, as they say.”

Dwale reached out, fumbling with his hands until he found hers. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he whispered sincerely.

Setsuna tried to laugh it off. “After hearing everything you’ve been through, I can’t image why you would say that. My problems were a drop in the ocean compared to yours.”

Dwale gave her hands a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not supposed to look at another person to see how they compare to you; you are only supposed to look to see what you can do to help.”

Setsuna stared at him in amazement. There was something so completely pure about him; it put her at a loss for words. “Thank you,” was all she could manage.

Dr. Griffin yawned lazily, a little trail of spittle running down to his chin. “I’ll be right back. I need to grab my surgical kit.”

As Dr. Griffin walked out of the galley, Dwale took a moment to adjust the bandages over his face. “I know it is not my place, but, may I ask you something?”

Setsuna nodded, then remembered he was blind and said “yes” instead.

Dwale hesitated. “Before I look at you with my new eyes, may I look at you with my old ones?”

The request took her aback. “Uh…okay, I guess.”

With infinite gentleness, Dwale reached out and touched his fingers against her face, tracing each line, gliding over each curve. It was so utterly disarming; it made her feel a little silly.

“You are very beautiful,” he commented.

“Well, naturally,” she snickered, trying to mask her embarrassment.

“But you never answered my question. Why are you doing this for me?”

She lifted up a green eyebrow. “You’re right. Most people would have missed that. Privet is like that, too. He never lets me get away with anything. I…I guess I’m being nice to you because you are going to be my brother-in-law. That makes you family.”

Dwale traced his fingers out along the edges of her long, pointed ears. It tickled her a little.