Uncovered
This piece adorns the bookshelf beside the bed, and it’s hidden inside a sliding door.
If you slide back the panel, you’ll find a pastoral scene carved as a frieze at the back of the cupboard.
There are two figures seated in a field, surrounded by lambs gamboling around them.
Use of different pigments highlights the scenery, a color-washing technique the artist has experimented with before.
Other wildlife is present within the picture, and it registers to the eye as a puzzle with hidden figures rather than a single scene.
Some animals are dangerous and could be taken as predatory, a threat to those enjoying the ostensible tranquility, and the obscured borders with irregular lines lend the impression that something more ominous yet may lie in wait for these two, a threat that has yet to be unveiled.
The piece offers an interesting dichotomy, presenting a complete juxtaposition betwixt first impressions and objective truth.
Kerboros
“Here we go again,” Thea mutters.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rosa asks with a scowl.
“It means that you’re tempting fate,” I answer.
I smile at Thea, hoping she’s pleased that I remember our exchange.
Her lips curve just a little, not quite a smile, but her eyes linger on mine, and it feels warmer than a touch.
I’m so glad we’re together in this. After what happened to my family, I haven’t trusted anyone in so long.
But Thea has become so important to me; I can’t change the way I feel, even if there’s no chance of a happy ending.
Other matters demand my attention anyway.
I stare at Zeph, who is still glowing with the intensity of my fading spell.
On my return, I overheard Rosa blaming Thea for our predicament.
That is incorrect. The responsibility resides with the party who tampered with my portal spell.
I wonder if Zeph will admit it if I come directly at them.
If they insist, I can cast the spell again and set the parameters so everyone can see proof of guilt.
“Tempting fate?” Rosa repeats.
“Challenging the universe,” Govannon clarifies. “Speaking for myself, I’d rather not worsen our situation.”
“How have you been surviving here?” Thea asks.
“I can’t starve, can I?” Govannon says with a weary half shrug.
“You must be parched.” Taragon immediately starts making a drink with pinches of this and that from her supplies, and then she passes the mug to him.
He accepts with a grateful smile, sipping with so much appreciation that I feel vague regret that it didn’t occur to me to inquire about his physical comfort. Thea is the only person I’ve ever been inclined to look after.
“Magical pathfinding,” Rosa prompts, flitting about my head.
I repress the urge to swat her away like an irritating insect. While she might be foulmouthed, I don’t want to antagonize her before I reveal the truth about Zeph. I notice their eyes on me in turn, and they fold their arms, seeming curious but not concerned.
“I haven’t had any particular success in that area,” I say. “Perhaps someone else should take a turn.”
“Are you suggesting I do it?” Zeph asks.
Thea answers before I can: “It’s certainly not within my sphere of expertise.”
“I could try…” Taragon doesn’t sound confident.
Govannon is still cradling the warm beverage in two grimy hands.
There is a peculiar pathos in the contrast between how well he’s dressed and how disheveled he’s become during his exile.
“If I could cast a spell and depart this terrible place, I’d have done it ages ago. I wish I knew how long I’ve been gone.”
“From the way Ragh spoke of you,” Thea says gently, “I do believe it’s been a very long time indeed.”
“I would concur.” I back her up on reflex.
She continues, “We gave him a flower, etched in rose quartz. He said it reminded him of a present you gave him when you were courting. He seemed so happy, remembering those times.”
“They were the happiest of my life,” Govannon admits.
“Why did you leave?” Thea asks.
Rosa practically snarls with impatience. “Uh, I don’t care. Does anyone else think this is a colossal waste of time?”
Taragon takes a gentle tone. “Not at all. We need to know how he ended up stranded and what things he’s seen while he’s been here.
Information is valuable. We’ll be better prepared.
And moreover, he’s a new member of our group.
Just as you contribute as an irreplaceable team member, so will Govannon, once we work out his strengths. ”
Now I see why Thea wanted Taragon along.
As Taragon speaks, the pixie’s bristling anger subsides. “Irreplaceable? Me?”
Thea jumps in then. “Certainly. You’ve scouted for us so many times and offered invaluable intel. We never would have made it out of that flower field without you.”
“That’s true,” Rosa says. “But…it’s nice to be acknowledged.”
“And that’s what we’re doing for Govannon,” Taragon concludes.
“Then I suppose hearing his story can’t do any harm,” the pixie allows.
“For what it’s worth, I agree,” Zeph adds.
They have been listening intently, eyes dancing between the speakers while volunteering nothing.
I’ve noticed they behave this way a lot, favoring neutrality and observation, but my instincts tell me that they’re collecting data, storing it away and possibly making judgments that concern everyone.
Everyone but Rosa, perhaps. I think she knows more than she’s letting on.
“It’s not a long tale,” Govannon says, after a long sip of tea.
“I tinker. I invent things. Magic and metal, that’s my purview.
Some light smithing, betimes. The climate in Summer wasn’t hospitable to some of my wilder notions, and I wanted to try my luck in Autumn.
I used the mushroom circle that I’ve always favored for such travels, and it should have deposited me a reasonable distance from the village outside the palace. ”
“It didn’t, obviously,” Thea says.
“Indeed not. I suppose I’d call it a freak happenstance, a rogue mana-storm, and suddenly, I’m here. Alone. Where I’ve been until that one”—he points at me—“found me.”
“I’m not sure how much we’ll need smithing or inventions,” Taragon muses.
Thea seems like she doesn’t want him to feel bad. “You never know.”
Nobody is looking at me at this moment. They’re not watching Zeph either. But I am. And I witness how their expression changes, the harmless facade shifting to reveal a sly calculation. I can’t hold my tongue any longer.
“I have critical information,” I say.
“About what?” Rosa asks.
“I’ve determined that my last portal spell didn’t fail on its own. Someone interfered with my magic and sabotaged my efforts to transport us safely.”
Thea’s eyes widen while Taragon merely looks puzzled. Neither of them reacts otherwise, and they don’t speak.
“Sabotage?” Govannon repeats.
Rosa remains silent as well. You knew, pixie. While you were shouting at Thea, you knew the truth.
“How can you be sure?” Thea finally asks.
“Because I followed the tracking spell back to the culprit.” I detonate those words among the group, and they all start talking at once.
Zeph finally responds: “You’re implying that the saboteur is among us. Are you expecting that party to admit their guilt?”
I accuse them directly at last. “If you choose not to, it changes nothing. The trail led me directly to you.”
Instead of appearing remorseful or even mildly alarmed, they grin, showing a few too many teeth. “Congratulations, hound! You finally figured it out. I’m surprised it wasn’t sooner. Didn’t things go wrong as soon as I showed up?” Zeph laughs, an edge to their voice.
“That’s true,” Thea says tightly.
Zeph continues, a trilling taunt in their tone. “Didn’t it seem like a coincidence? That I wanted to help you out of the goodness of my heart? I’m agog you allowed me to tag along, hound. Not surprised about Thea. She’s known to be a gullible soul.”
“Asshole,” Thea mutters.
She prowls toward them, and Taragon grabs her wrist as she winds up to slap Zeph. The hobgoblin wears a thunderous scowl, matching Thea’s expression. “Let’s talk first. If we don’t like what they have to say, we can rough them up later.”
Zeph staggers back, pretending to be hurt. “How brutish. And here I thought not all hobgoblins are thugs.”
“They’re being offensive about you and my dad. I need to hit them,” Thea grits out through clenched teeth. “Just a little.”
“I wouldn’t stop you,” Rosa says, surprising all of us.
Especially Zeph, if their expression is any hint how they’re feeling. “You too, Rosa? But you knew—”
“Not that we’d get stuck in a place like this!” she screeches.
I couldn’t agree more. “Explain yourself.”
“You owe us that much,” Taragon adds in a thick voice. “And tell the truth. Remember that the beating is still on the table.”
Thea has one hand curled into a fist, and she eyes their jaw. “Zeph wouldn’t know the truth if it slugged them.”
Govannon sighs. “I have no idea what’s going on. I’d forgotten other people can be so exhausting and complicated.”
“How can you be so relentlessly awful? I only asked for some honesty!” Taragon is clearly hurt, not just by the lies but the prejudiced remark as well.
She’s wrapped her arms around her body, bracing herself against the injury inflicted by those careless words.
Immediately Thea’s anger fades when she realizes how Taragon is feeling, and Thea wraps both arms around her friend, wrath abandoned for consolation.
They lean together, until Taragon pulls back.
Then Thea whirls on Zeph. “Apologize to her! Right now. For what you said and what you did. She’s worried sick about Tempest, and she can’t even find out how they are.”
She cares enough about Taragon to feel her pain, and that is reason enough for me to slice Zeph to ribbons, burn their bits to ash, and then bury the char at a crossroads.
I’m holding the leash on my temper only with great restraint.
They had best watch their behavior—and their tone from this point on.
“I’m sorry,” Zeph finally says.
I can’t tell if they mean it.
Thea glares at them, one arm still around Taragon. “Who the hell are you anyway? What do you get from screwing us over?”
“Time,” Zeph replies.
Thea and Taragon swap a look while Govannon drinks the last of his tea, allowing our complications to slide right off him. Then Taragon says, “Can you clarify?”
“Macha’s tits, big folk are slow,” Rosa complains.
Zeph chides, “Don’t be cruel, my friend.
The answer is obvious if you think about it.
I’ve been wasting your time, not allowing you to complete your quest. But now I’m caught, and you have completed your quest.” They bow in a ridiculously courtly gesture, full of sweeping arm movements that make them look curiously boneless.
“Devan J. Fenelon, at your service. The J is for Jozeph but—”
“You go by Zeph,” Thea finishes.
The truth sinks in. It explains the odd atmosphere and the antipathy I sensed now and then. We’ve been traveling with Thea’s contracted spouse for a while now, and they’ve witnessed everything. Everything about us. Everything between us.
I strangle the urge to curse like a pixie.