* * *
Lyric
* * *
Okay, so maybe I'm avoiding thinking about that whole almost-getting-assassinated thing from earlier. Can you blame me? It's the sort of thing that could be very upsetting if you dwell on it too much. I don't want to think about who did it, or why, or whether it might happen again very soon. I just want to try on these frilly shorts and be a girl for awhile. I'm good at that. I'm not good at much else, and I think that's been proven very well by this point.
Then my sister's hand comes down on my shoulder and ruins my introspection. "Hey, you."
I look back at her while applying a matching lipstick shade. I pucker my lips and blot them. "Yes?" She looks unusually serious. Oh, that's right. Sis has a job. And she's probably still thinking about me almost getting killed and all. "Hey, is your arm okay? You didn't get a scrape when we fell, did you?"
She bites her lip, then for some strange reason she smiles. "No, but thanks for asking. I was gonna tell you - Lute sort of whispered over to me that the coast is clear if we wanna head straight back to the Palace Compound. He's got a lookout for us so we'll be safe. And um..." she looks to the side, making sure Aunt Muriel's out of view. "He got the assassin," she whispers. "We can talk about it more later, okay? Don't want to drag stuff like that onto family doorsteps even more than we have today already, you know?" She clears her throat, then starts speaking at a normal volume again. "Anyway, I'm sure you have enough new clothes by now. Looks like Muriel gave you a couple bags of em. How about we drop them off at your room, then go to the Poet Hall? I've gotta check on things. Jhe h'Lete's probably running around again by now, and I don't want him exhausting himself all over again."
"That sounds alright." I think for a moment. "Hey, Stevane? You think that's the place for me to be?"
She mulls it over. "Huh. That'd be nice. I wouldn't be the only Akribastes stuck without guns." She sighs, then heaves a bag up over her shoulder. "Come on, punk. I'm not carrying all your clothes for you. Not unless I get to pick through em afterwards!"
"Hey, would you? Because that looks heavy..." Stevane rolls her eyes at me, then dumps a bag into my arms.
"Come on, let's go say goodbye. Auntie Muriel's not in town very often, you know. And at the rate you've been around, you'd better catch people while you can!"
* * *
'Sy
* * *
I can't really put this off any longer. Of course, it's ridiculous that I'm putting it off at all. It's not as if I'm afraid of the Poet Hall. Oh, no - I just prefer Elete do his job, and I attend to mine, and that they only cross over as is necessary. If someone needs to go to the Poet Hall I'll usually send over one of my Armed that just so happens to also have Poet abilities and duties. Mixed. That's the most polite word I've ever heard them referred to as. As for the less polite words...well, we don't like to repeat those, of course.
I pick up Cade's journal on my way out. I considered attempting to read it myself, as I doubt it could do any real harm to me - but I'd rather leave Elete his jobs. One more thing to keep him from running about. Or so I hope.
It really is a shame about his health. He has his episodes from time to time, and takes his bedrest then - even if we have to tie him down to make him get it. This is far more extended than an occasional illness, however. I'd be less worried if we had any idea as to the cause of it. Of course, all of my worries would be alleviated if Elete would pay any mind to his weaknesses at all, and tell us when something's wrong with him. It's gotten to the point where I've had to pry into his personal affairs - or have others like my daughter do it for me - just to make sure he's not hiding anything else. And he treats it all like it's just a silly game for him!
I sigh heavily, then step out of my office, walking straight into Jhe Bronwyn. She squeaks. The sound is so high-pitched that I double-check to make certain I haven't stepped on a mouse.
She darts back, bowing in such a flustered manner that I can't keep track of where her face is. "Jhe h'Akribastes I'm SO sorry, I didn't see you there! Well of course I didn't see you there, otherwise that would mean I'd run into you on purpose! I-I'd never DO that! Excuse me s-sir, it's just that--there's so much paperwork already and Jhe Katherine's so busy doing her job and all and-and-and well I heard there'd be more, sir, and I'm really in a rush, was there anything you wanted?" She looks up at me with those strange garnet eyes, a deep red set in a cocoa-colored face and framed by blonde hair. Jhe Averseen is fairly tall, and...rather adequately well-endowed. She is also a... handful, but rather useful to Katherine, and I could imagine less annoying pure Poets as a personal assistant in the Armed Hall.
...I mean more annoying. Bronwyn never annoys me. At all. Ever.
"...Yes. Well." I close my eyes and compose myself. I open them. She's still there. "...Jhe Averseen, as it so happens, I will be visiting Jhe h'Logos in the Poet Hall. Perhaps if you accompany me, we may request some aid for your position while we are there." I'm not sure what I'm thinking by surrounding myself with another Poet right now, but I have a feeling that I just desire a buffer from Elete. He is probably out of bed. Trying to run about. Scheming things. I may sound untrusting, I know. But I know him. And I know Poets. And most of the recent problems in my life have beencaused by Poets, so perhaps I am a bit paranoid, so I will have all the buffer I can possibly get from them today.
"I..." She blinks. "That would be wonderful, sir! I might get to go home tonight!"
I blink. "Jhe Averseen, you stay here at night?"
She blushes. "I live outside the city, sir. If my work keeps me here too late, well... well I'd prefer not walking home alone, so I just sleep here sometimes. I... I hope that's not a problem, sir? I'm sorry, I didn't know it was an issue."
"It's... not. I was merely concerned. Come, let us fix that problem for you. It's no good working all day if you can't sleep in a bed at night."
"Oh, that's true sir! And I have a very nice bed! It's so lonely!"
I raise an eyebrow at her. She blinks, and then her cheeks begin an endeavor to match her eyes.
"Jhe h'Akribastes, I, um, I... I didn't mean it like that!" She looks away. "Here, I'll, um, I'll just... I'll go get the documents that need to be delivered to the Poet Hall!"
I close my eyes, rub my temples, and sigh. Poets. When I'm sure she's out of earshot, I begin to chuckle.
* * *
Lyric
* * *
Stevane's pretty damn eager to get to the Poet Hall. I don't have time to hang or fold my clothes, and she doesn't listen to any of my complaints about wrinkles and stale odors. In fact, she brushes all of that away with a cryptic phrase: "Just learn how to write it off, okay?"
I've seen the Poet Hall before, but never really been inside other than a few times that I was little and I can't remember very well. Stevane practically grew up in there. Heck, I remember a few grumbles Dad would make when he didn't think anyone was listening to the tune of Jhe Elete being 'her other daddy'. The other kids frequented the Armed Hall much more, except for me. I went shopping.
What? I wasn't really thinking about the future, and nobody ever paid enough attention to me to point out that maybe I should.
While the Armed Hall is more of a compound that people go and shoot each other in, the Poet Hall truly earns the 'Hall' part. The entrance is very open yet also grand, in the famed columns-and-pretty-statues style of every Palace building. This building... it's different, though. There's a pair of boxer shorts on one of the statues decorating the front fountain.
Stevane cocks her head. "Huh! Yesterday it was a bra. Guess some girl found her underwear."
Three people are scaling the wall by the entrance. As we proceed through the grand double-doors, I hear a shout before one of them hits the ground outside with a WHUMP. Then we're walking on clean slate tiles. No, marble. No...granite? I trip as I try to keep track of the shifting pattern.
Stevane grabs my arm and pulls me upright. "Don't bother. That's the current trainee decorating project." She shakes her head, clucking her tongue. "Trainees can never make up their minds. It's like watching you try to pick an outfit in the morn-- hey! HEY, ERYNN!"
A young man with short dark hair waves at us from across the long expansive entryway. "Ey! Stevane! ...Is that Lyric?!" He approaches, and as he gets closer I realize that I recognize his grinning, mischievous face. He obviously recognizes me as well. "Well, where'd you catch him?" His eyes light up. "And do you get the bounty?"
I jump. "Bounty?"
Stevane facepalms, shaking her head. She looks back up at Erynn. "No, Jhe Blackirons. Gerald found him first." Then, her eyes light up. "Hey. We ought to give him the bounty. Where's it being kept?"
Erynn bites his finger tip. "Hmm. Amanda had it for a little bit. Over in the Armed Hall."
Stevane's eyebrows meet as she frowns. "What was it doing over there? We said it was for Poets only. The Armed had their own thing going."
Erynn sighs. "Yeah, but somebody ate that sandwich."
I raise an eyebrow. "Sandwich?"
Stevane, again, facepalms. "The Armed - not Daddy, but the actual Armed themselves - set your bounty as a sandwich, Lyric."
"It was a very nice sandwich," Erynn points out.
I blink. "That's...kind of weird, but I guess it's okay."
Stevane sighs. "No, Lyric, you don't understand. It's the same sandwich. Since you left, they haven't made a new one. For ten years, it's remained - mayonnaise and all. It...damn, Erynn, how could someone eat that thing on accident? It was green!"
Erynn chuckles. "On a dare? Swear it to my mother's name it's true. Mikhal puked it up afterwards, so I guess we could still use it, but eh...no. Anyway, Gerald was out on Poet business, right?" Erynn grins and slaps Stevane on the back. "So the prize goes to us! Gerald gets the Poet bounty. I'll uh...I'll go grab those from 'Manda. Hey, 'Rude came back, right? He went out on mission to cover Gerald's ass again, after all." Oh, that's where I recognize him from. Erynn Blackirons came to Radia with Gerude from way out in Robinstead when I was just a kid. Gerude was on a mission out there, and decided to take Erynn back with him because he had 'Poet potential'. The two have been best friends ever since then.
Stevane nods. "He's around. I haven't seen him yet, but I sort of felt the lurch when he came back. You wanna go hunt him down?"
"Yup! And I'll go get the bounty while I'm at it. Toodle-doo!" With that, Erynn darts away. After he's out of sight, I look up at Stevane. She looks down at me.
"Well. That pretty much sums up this place. Come on, Jhe h'Lete's quarters are this way."
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