Chapter 29 #2
One hour in, and I am having so much fun that I have to remind myself why I’m here.
I’ve been trying to keep the winning even, mostly because I am getting too drunk to remember which questions that I need to ask, but also because when one twin wins, they usually ask each other such hilarious, obscure questions I end up laughing until I cry.
"Tell me right now Mack––it’s the rules! Did you or did you not use and lose my lucky hunting knife last year!" Briggs yells, taking a large gulp of his drink. He won this hand, and his brother looks around the room, as if he can escape this question somehow.
"Fine, FINE. Yes…I did, and I’m not really sorry honestly, because that knife was given to both of us it wasn’t really "yours" to begin with, so I had every right to…" He stops talking and scoots his chair back from the table as Briggs stands, knocking over his own cup in a fit of rage.
"I’m going to kill you.." Briggs breaths out, before moving towards his brother, red faced. I get up to stop them, but I’m beaten to it by the barkeep.
"Cut it out you two, or I cut you both off––for two months!" He growls.
Briggs seems to shake himself out of it immediately, which is something I’ve noticed about him; he’s furious one minute, and fine the next. Mack puts both hands up in submission, apologizing and chuckling as he pulls his chair back in.
"Ok, let's keep going," I say. I’ve purposely stayed in the middle for most of the last hour, not wanting to drink too much, and wanting to ensure these two felt at ease. But it’s getting late, and I need to get some answers.
It’s my turn to deal. I give us each five cards, then separate the remaining stack into four piles.
Each of us take turns flipping from our own stack until there’s six cards in a row.
I dealt, so Mack ––to my right gets to roll first. He rolls the dice, and leans back in his chair, scratching his jaw.
He’s better at mastering his emotions than his brother, but he’s still got tells. He’s got a low hand, but he’s going to try and pretend it's high.
His brother, however, accidentally lets out a sigh and folds. Mack, competitive as he is, raises. We go back and forth for a minute until it’s time to flip, and Mack throws his cards down in frustration. I snicker.
"Sorry boys!" I chuckle, while taking a deep drink. "So, is Zaphira as desolate as New Providence? How come you left?"
"That’s technically two questions," Mack points out laughing, "but I’ll allow it. When we left, Zaphira was doing fine. Everything was still growing naturally. There’s no magic, but it’s functioning alright." he shrugs, "Why we left? That’s a little more complicated. Let’s call it family drama."
I can’t help my stunned reaction, "I am so confused… almost all our military conflict is with Zaphira. If they are better off than us, that makes no sense. Our troops have been going missing or dying in that conflict for years."
Briggs comes back to the table just then with new drinks for all of us, and nods his head at me as he leans in.
"You’re absolutely right. But it’s not for the reasons you think. Zaphirian troops have been trying to make it across Providence for years. They want access to the barrier. To try and figure out how to drop it."
"Why would they want that, if Zaphira still has agriculture?" I push, and thankfully neither of them seems to pull back.
"Yet.." Mack continues in a hushed, slightly slurred tone. "Before we left, the blight had just started to creep past the bogs and onto our land. It gets worse every year, and with no wielders, they won’t be able to fight it off indefinitely."
My mind reels, untangling years of misinformation the government has forced down our throats.
"Why would you two leave and come here?" I question.
"Zaphira is not without issues," Mack says diplomatically.
"We were kicked out. Or we ran, depending how you look at it. We were thieves, and we stole from the wrong family," Briggs finishes proudly, right as Mack elbows him hard in the ribs, causing him to fall forward onto the table with a thump.
"Feck’ off, you git," Briggs wheezes.
"Stop telling people that! It makes us look bad," Mack scolds.
I give a drunken snort at their interaction; I miss my siblings suddenly.
"So, how’d you end up here?" I ask gingerly. For a moment I wonder if they will make me play for it, but neither of them seems overly interested in the game anymore.
Briggs relents, "We hightailed it to Soland first; those borders are easy to cross."
My eyes widen in shock.
"Soland isn’t what you think it is. Sure, its lawless for the most part, but that’s because they are a country made of mostly nomadic, self-governing communities."
I blink at them. "Ok, so why would you leave there?"
"Well, turns out we didn't really fit in there, either." Briggs shrugs and Mack adds, "Also, it was very boring. So much walking. Nothing to steal," he says, with a devious grin.
"So, I'm sorry... I'm still confused. How did you end up in The Centre?"
Both brothers look down at their empty glasses. Apparently, this was the line they felt they shouldn't cross.
"Oh, come on, you've told me everything else. All of it treason, by our government's laws. Don't hold out on me now!" I plead but neither makes eye contact with me.
Eyes narrowing, I think for a minute, my brain sluggish. The Council is meticulous about who they let travel, and these two don’t appear to be the carefully groomed government employees type. They must have to offer something though; The Centre doesn’t just let people travel freely, without cause.
"What did you guys bring in...?" I guess, my voice low.
Both men stare at me, blinking, wondering how I'd so quickly come to this realization. I shrug with a satisfied smirk, their reactions confirmation enough.
"We shouldn't say any more. For your safety and our own," Mack apologizes.
I raise my hands in defeat and offer to get us another round, giving up completely on avoiding tommorow's hangover. If I want more information, I'll have to try and keep up. I offer stories about my life, in hopes the twins tell me more about theirs in exchange.
"How'd you get from Soland to here so easily? From what I hear, that's the roughest border for raiders ––and the pits are really bad." It's a question I'm hoping they'll answer. I have to know if I ever want to get my siblings out of New Providence.
"We have our ways. We found a route through both sides, a few years back. We come from a long line of explorers. Dad always said that's why our family turned to crime when the war ended, and the borders locked down. We were never meant to be confined."
Sadness washes over Briggs's features as he talks about his dad. I reach out and squeeze his hand, and he gives me a lopsided smile. He's less guarded than his brother. He wears his emotions openly, his honesty a badge of honour.
"I know what you mean..." I sigh. "About not belonging in this new world." I pause. "Is what you're bringing into Providence bad?" I ask quietly, noticing my speech has turned fuzzy on my tongue.
Briggs frowns and says no, but way too quickly.
Apparently, this also gets him into trouble sometimes, because he is not a good liar.
Mack groans, knowing I'm going to keep prying, and his honest brother is going to blow their cover either way.
"You are relentless, my new friend!" Mack chides me. He squints one eye at me. "Ugh. Fine. But if you tell a soul, you'll be dooming us to cross at an early age. Which would be unfortunate, considering we are very fun." He laughs to himself, his cheeks rosy from consumption and cheer.
"We're bringing over herbs. We get paid an extravagant amount. I'm not entirely sure what they're used for. We're paid to go back and forth, and to keep our mouths shut, and our heads down..."
"Both of which we've managed to do until tonight, I'll have you know. You are very... disarming, Maple Treehouse," Briggs says, with a burp and a hiccup. I playfully swat at him and roll my hand at Mack, urging him to continue.
Mack shrugs.
"Honestly, I don't know a lot about it. It's called Lether Root. Purple flowers grow on top, but the roots are what they want. Dings my hands all to shit, because they have little thorns on the stems." He wiggles his hand in my face to show me his scar bitten fingers.
I squint at him, commanding my brain to memorize the words, but there's a haze surrounding us. People have come and gone over the last couple hours and I'm vaguely aware that it's much emptier in here then when we arrived.
"Shit, what time is it?" I ask.
"No idea. Must be really late, though."
I stand a little too quickly, causing darkness to lap at the corners of my vision. I need food, and bed. And water.
"I'm so sorry to take off like this, but I really need to go. My friends will lose their minds if I'm not home soon." I give them both a pretend wince.
"Oh, shoot, we'll walk you back!" Mack offers thoughtfully.
"No, no, honestly, don't worry about it. Trained soldier, remember? I think at this point if I can’t handle walking back to base alone, I’m in big trouble.
But I hope our paths cross again. I may need guides one day to get me across the border.
" I add casually, as I reach across the table and give Briggs the kind of friendly hug that only comes after alcohol-induced bonding.
"Absolutely! We know all the best spots to stop, too. We're here every two weeks, or so. You know where to look now!" he says enthusiastically.
"Yeah, come find us again," Mack says sincerely.
"Thanks, boys! Drink some water!" I demand in my best big-sisterly voice, as I walk directly into a chair and giggle.
Monty is working in the same corner he was when I arrived, and I give him an obnoxious salute and a wink on my way out.
What a nice fellow, I think to myself. Nice place, really.