Chapter 8 Zara #2
“The answer is complicated, but basically all over, actually,” he replied.
“I was hatched in one of the farther caverns of the eastern corridor. Sadly, I was from the last clutch my mother had, and all the other eggs hadn’t survived so it was only me growing up.
She didn’t really want to stay there, so she found a job that had her traveling all over Solkaris, and sometimes outside too.
We even stayed in Alindale for two years when I was eight. ”
His open and candid nature meant Zara could sense deep affection when he spoke of his mother. Curious, she prodded further. “What does she do? Your mother, I mean.”
“She’s a structural engineer, actually, but retired now,” he said, pride beaming from his face.
“She worked on modernizing our tunnels, and after that, she took on consulting jobs around Vale Crossing. Unfortunately, I didn’t inherit her smarts.
I’m just a normal working guy, you know?
” Embarrassment emanated from him like heat off asphalt.
”Intelligence isn’t about crunching numbers and spouting facts,” Zara pointed out.
“Yeah,” Liora piped in. “Sounds like living all over sharpened your social skills. You got street smarts, as we say in the Upperworld.”
“Street…smarts.” He had his head tilted to the side as he said the words, like he was trying them out. “Thank you for saying that, that’s kind of you.” He nodded his thanks as their waitress came back with their drinks. “And how about the three of you? Where did you grow up in the Upperworld?”
“That’s also a complicated answer,” Liora chortled.
After taking a sip of her drink, she continued.
“Hmm that’s good. Anyway, our mother is from New Mexico—that’s in a country called America—while our father is from a different country, Bolivia.
We were born in our mother’s country, but we would go back and forth a lot. ”
“We spent our earlier years in Bolivia,” Zara added. “But when we were around twelve, we went back to America because my mother was taking over her family’s business. After we finished high school, we decided to move back to Bolivia.”
“Why?” he asked.
“We missed it,” Liora said, then nodded at Elian. “Him mostly.” Their brother remained silent, but he didn’t contradict them.
Zara didn’t need her powers to know her brother’s feelings on the matters. “Also, our powers began to grow. We wanted to be somewhere we could be ourselves and not have to worry about the wrong people finding out about us.”
“The Upperworld isn’t a place where they believe magic exists,” Elian said, speaking up.
“You mean, it’s a place where they no longer believe it exists,” Pythorus said in a quiet voice. “Once, our ancestors all lived there,” he reminded them. “Until the humans stopped believing in gods and magic and forced those who didn’t conform to flee.”
A hush fell over the table, a sense of loss hanging in the air like heavy humidity.
Much to Zara’s surprise, Elian raised his glass in the air. “Well, fuck ’em. I like us the way we are.”
Pythorus’s golden eyes gleamed and he clinked his glass to Elian’s. “Hear, hear.”
Liora and Zara joined too. “Hear, hear.”
“Oh good!” Liora exclaimed as the waitress came back with a tray loaded with food. “I’m starving!”
The four of them dug into the feast. To their delight and amazement, basilisk cuisine was delicious and spicy.
It was something they were used to, eating a lot of their father’s and abuela’s cooking.
There was a different quality to the spiciness and flavors and as they learned from Pythorus that the heat didn’t come from peppers but mushroom-like fungi that grew in the walls along heat caverns.
The drinks, too, were as potent as the food was spicy. Soon, they were all a little too happy and a little too loud.
“Is that a dart board?” Liora pointed to a large, round wooden board on the wall across the room. It was about twice the size of a dart board, with colorful concentric circles painted in the center. “Like, a game where you throw small arrows at the target?”
“You mean kamesszy? Yes, I suppose that’s how it’s played. Each circle corresponds to a certain number of points, but it’s not just about getting the highest number of points, but also, you need to hit all the circles first.”
“Ah, close enough to darts, I suppose, but I’m sure we can get the hang of it, right Elian?”
Elian shook his head. “Oh no, Liora. No freaking way.”
“Don’t be a party pooper,” Liora whined. “I bet we can find some guys to hustle.”
“Yeah, but those guys will be over seven feet tall and have tails that can squeeze us to death.”
Liora rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand. “C’mon, you know you can’t resist a challenge. We’ll just play by ourselves.” Despite Elian’s protests, Liora eventually managed to drag him across the room toward the kamesszy boards.
“Sorry about that,” Zara said, sheepish. “They can be annoying sometimes, but that’s how it is with siblings.”
“I wouldn’t know, I’m afraid.”
“Oh right, only child,” she said with a chuckle. “Consider yourself lucky.” Horror seeped into her when she recalled his earlier words. “Oh crap, the rest of your clutch die—er, I mean they didn’t…they weren’t…”
“It’s alright, Zara,” he assured her, patting her arm. “Truly. My mother never talked about the other eggs, so I don’t really feel anything about them. I mean, I wish they had survived, but that’s life, right? Life and death, rather.”
“True.”
“So, you and your siblings were raised as humans, but you are geryons, correct?”
“Yes. Sort of,” she qualified. “Like your kind, geryons first came to Vale Crossing. But then, our ancestor lost his magic and his wings, and most of his descendants left for the Upperworld when they were cast out from the geryon stronghold. Somehow, though, we retained our magic.”
“Your blood is strong,” he said. “How does your magic manifest?”
“I can sense emotional residue on objects, but also detect the intentions of people and their emotions if they are particularly strong.”
“Ah, very useful for your mission.”
“Yeah, or spotting scammers at our shop.”
“You own a shop?”
“Yes. We’re artists and we have a studio and shop back in Bolivia.”
“An artist.” Pythorus’s eyes glowed. “I dabble in art as well. Pottery, actually.”
“Really?”
“My mother worked for Thrimarr, the kiln goddess, for about a year and I learned from her sons.” A small smiled touched his lips.
“Can I see some of your work? If you have pictures.”
“Of course.” He fished his phone out of his pocket. “But, only if you show me yours?”
She flashed him a smile. “Sure.”
Seeing Pythorus’s pottery and showing him her own paintings made Zara itch to paint again.
Though she did bring her supplies, she hadn’t picked up a brush since she arrived in Vale Crossing, mostly because she’d been exhausted every day after their intense training sessions with Hecate.
However, now she realized she’d been neglecting that side of her.
“Are you alright, Zara?” Pythorus’s eyebrows drew together in a frown.
“Me? Yeah, I’m good.”
“But?”
“But you made me realize that I haven’t been being true to myself, or at least, my artistic side.
I’ve been starving my muse,” she joked. “Being busy with work and all. Thank you for showing me your pottery, they’re amazing.
And thank you for reminding me that I can’t just be one part of a trio of magical geryon descendants. ”
“You’re very welcome,” he said with a chuckle. “Helping people is what I do. Is there anything else I can assist you with?”
“Yeah, if you know any single basilisks who can pretend they’re my boyfriend, that would be great.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Excuse me?”
Crap, the words spilled out before she could stop herself.
Stupid basilisk alcohol.
“Nothing, don’t mind my drunken babbling.”
“Oh no, now I have to hear about this. Why do you need a pretend basilisk boyfriend?”
Zara sighed. “It’s a long story.”
He gestured toward her brother and sister, who were now seemingly in a heated game of kamesszy with a group of juvenile basilisks. “I think we’re gonna be here for a while. Kamesszy has fifty rounds.”
“Fifty?” She groaned. “Fine.” Reaching for her drink, she downed it. “But I’m going to need more of these.”
Pythorus signaled to their waitress. “No problem.”
And so, she told him everything about Hektor and her basilisk problem over another round of drinks. Surprisingly, she didn’t detect any judgement or condescension from him, only understanding.
“And so, I’m stuck now.” She placed her elbows on the table and planted her chin on top of her interlocked fingers. The room was spinning a little bit—or it was the Solkarian alcohol she’d had.
“Ah, I see. You can’t tell him you were lying about your supposed basilisk boyfriend, but you can’t tell him you broke up with this fictional male because it might make you seem frivolous.”
“Oh my gods, you really get me, Pythorus.” She let out a pffftt. “Why can’t I be attracted to someone like you? Instead of a stupid, stubborn Drakkon.”
“Well, I’m flattered, but first of all, I don’t swing that way.”
Her eyes darted up at him. “You’re only attracted to basilisks?”
He chuckled. “Basilisk males.”
There was an echo of an emotion that said that wasn’t quite true.
Well, at least she didn’t doubt the male part of that sentence.
“Only basilisk males?”
Color flared under his scaly cheeks and his eyes flickered back to the kamesszy boards. Waves of pure lust so thick rippled from the basilisk, Zara could hardly breathe.
She followed his gaze—right at her own brother.
“Oh. I see.”
Pythorus cleared his throat. “But, back to you. I have a solution to your problem.”
“You do?
“Yes.” He took her hands from under her chin. “Zara, will you allow me to be your boyfriend?”
“Huh?” Was she drunker than she thought? “You just said you were gay.”
And you want to bang my brother like a screen door in a hurricane.
“I mean, be your pretend boyfriend. Once Hektor gets here, you can just tell him I’m the guy you’ve been chatting with.”
“What? You’d do that?”
“Sure, why not?” He winked at her. “If he’s a typical Drakkon, then he’ll be furious with jealousy and be forced to admit his feelings for you. But if he doesn’t have feelings for you, then we can just break up, and he’ll be none the wiser. No harm no foul.”
The thought of Hektor truly not feeling anything for her plucked at her chest.
But she supposed, she needed to know, one way or another, and end this torture.
“Alright, if you don’t mind…”
“Of course not.”
She paused, thinking about it. It was one thing to tell Hektor about a fake boyfriend, but to actually play pretend with another person was different.
Are you really going to do this?
“Okay, Pythorus. Let’s do this.”
“Great,” he said. “Now, tell me more about what he knows so we can get our stories straight and strategize.”
Yup, she really was going to do this.