Avarice

The next morning, Leila made good on her promise. Avarice barely had the strength to struggle against her as the spiral twisted her serpentine form around him and forced him in the direction of Thyone’s office.

She growled with effort as Avraice struggled against her, “You can’t…even…conjure magic properly! This is an issue!” Finally, just down the hall from Thyone’s office, she released him with a dizzying twirl, turning him around and pushing him towards the alchemist’s office.

“I don’t…disagree with you,” he replied as gasped for breath. The struggle had exhausted him, and he didn’t bother trying to hide it. “Shouldn’t we go ask a neighboring clan’s healer for help instead?”

Leila glared with disbelief and disapproval, “You’d really trust another clan’s healer?”

Avarice growled, “I’m sure they’re more trustworthy than our scheming alchemist…”

Leila groaned again, louder this time. Then she retorted, “Okay. First of all, you’re in no condition to fly to the nearest clan. And second, even if you were, what makes you so sure they’d want to help out?”

“Don’t be so suspicious, Leila, this isn’t the Tangled Wood.”

They looked at each other for a moment.

Finally Leila deadpanned, “Please tell me you see the irony of your words.”

“I see the irony, yes.”

A moment later, Thyone’s voice thundered down the hall, “FOR THE LOVE OF THE ELEVEN! Will you two stop arguing about it and just come here already?!”

Leila looked expectantly at Avarice for a moment, then he sighed and they stepped forward.

As usual, Thyone’s office was bright and sunny, and something stewed in his cauldron. He sat at his desk, watching intently something bubbled in a beaker over a small flame. A familiar scene. The only thing Avarice didn’t recognize was the life-like statue perched on the alchemist’s desk. It looked like an exact replica of a skydancer hatchling.

Thyone glanced up and did a double-take. His lips curled into an amused, cruel grin.

“Oh, Avarice,” he began by way of greeting, “I didn’t recognize your voice.”

“Hello, Thyone,” Avarice greeted begrudgingly.

“That’s a neat statue,” Leila pointed out, ignoring the tense atmosphere.

“She’s real,” Thyone corrected automatically. He turned stepped towards them as he instructed, “Turn that burner off.”

To Avarice’s surprise, what he’d thought was a statue reached forward and carefully turned a knob to extinguish the flame. Then she turned and looked towards them with an odd mix of curiosity and suspicion. A moment later, she noticed Avarice’s gaze and averted her eyes nervously.

“Hmm. You look like crap,” Thyone noted as he approached, “You also look sick.”

“Nice to see you again, too,” Avarice replied sarcastically. He looked past Thyone again and at the hatchling. “Why is there a child in here?”

Thyone made a dismissive gesture, “Don’t worry about it.”

Avarice tightened his glare.

“Uh…” Leila cut in, “Do you have any medicine or anything? I think he has some kind of sinus infection or somethin’.”

“Let me take a look,” Thyone replied with a mischievous glint in his eye. He proceeded to examine Avarice, looking down his throat and prodding at his face. The guardsman was absolutely sure he was prodding just a little harder than he had to. It took every fiber of willpower in Avarice’s body not to recoil or slap the alchemist’s hand away.

“Yep,” Thyone concluded, “That’s a sinus infection.” He stepped back towards his desk, the hatchling watching him as he approached. He quickly jotted a list on a stray piece of parchment and handed it to her. “Go get these from the stores.”

She took the list, nodding, and jumped off the desk. She stepped towards Thyone’s stores. Avarice stepped over to Thyone’s desk, Leila close behind.

“Who is she?” Avarice demanded of the alchemist.

Thyone was organizing his papers and didn’t look up as he answered, “That’s Leila, obviously. Do you need another eye exam while you’re here?”

“Not her! The child!”

“Don’t worry about her,” Thyone quickly repeated, making the same dismissive gesture as before. Avarice thought it seemed like a reflex. The alchemist moved the beaker from its place over the burner and replaced it with a clean one his pixies brought to him.

“Who is she?” Avarice pressed, “Where did she come from?”

Thyone rolled his eyes and answered, “I don’t know and I don’t know.” Absently, he muttered, “I really need to name her if she doesn’t have one…”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!” Avarice demanded incredulously. He meant to sound intimidating, but his nasally voice made Thyone snicker.

The alchemist shook his head as the his chuckling petered out. He looked up to see Avarice still glaring. Thyone groaned and replied, “Really? What does it matter to you?”

Avarice thought of all Thyone’s extended disappearances and wondered with disgust if the alchemist was performing some ungodly experiments on the child. “Answer the question.”

“I don’t know. She hasn’t told me, and I haven’t asked. And even if I did, I doubt she’d give me a straight answer.” As if on cue, the child returned to the desk and handed several small jars, vials, and bundles of herbs to the alchemist. He took them thanklessly and asked, “What’s your name, kid? Where did you come from?”

The kid froze and shock colored her face. One by one, she looked at each of the three adults, then at her feet. She looked like she was trying to curl into herself.

“See?” Thyone turned back to Avarice. “She’s extremely shy, borderline socially anxious, and maybe even mute. Now stop asking questions so I can focus on curing you.”

Thyone set about making Avarice’s medicine, but the captain of the guard kept his eyes on the shy hatchling. He worried…

Avarice waited outside the lair, outside Thyone’s lab. It was dark, but he’d overheard Thyone talking to Betelgeuse earlier about going on another extended trip. This time Avarice wasn’t about to let him slip away unnoticed. At the very least, he’d know the exact moment when the troublesome alchemist vanished, and which direction he went. If he wasn’t too tired, perhaps, he might follow him for a short while…

He’d arrived at his perch just after sunset and been there since. It was nearly midnight now, and Avarice found himself thinking about all the playful jeers Arthgallo would have if he could see the Guard Captain now. It was moments like this that made Avarice question himself.

But just as he started to have his doubts, Avarice saw movement in the lab. His attention snapped towards the exit, he stared intently, waiting for the alchemist to emerge. It wasn’t Thyone who exited the lair, however.

It was the skydancer hatchling.

Her pale, Ice eyes glinted in the faint moonlight. She stumbled clumsily on a rock and flapped her wings reflexively. With a start, Avarice realized they were almost ready for flight. He counted back the time since he’d first met the hatchling. How long had she been hanging about Thyone’s lab?

Avarice heard the Alchemist shout something up to her, and she turned back and waved. Then she slipped away into the brush. For a moment, Avarice thought about following her. Instead, he flew into Thyone’s lab.

He landed quietly and immediately spotted the alchemist.

“Where does she sleep?” Avarice demanded by way of greeting.

Thyone answered without missing a beat, “Who? We’re the only two people here.”

“Don’t give me that. I mean the child.”

Thyone wheeled on him suddenly, “Oh so you’re stalking her, too, now?” The ferocity in his voice shocked Avarice. Thyone stepped out from behind the desk and up into the guardsman’s face, “If you insist on meddling in my affairs, then the least you can do is leave her out of this.”

For a moment, the Captain of the Guard was too taken aback to say anything. When he recovered, he narrowed his gaze and growled, “What is she to you? Your apprentice?”

Thyone scoffed and turned away, stepping back towards his desk. Avarice hadn’t thought about it since he’d first met the child, but suddenly sickening thoughts of ungodly experiments returned to him.

“I swear on the Eleven, Thyone,” Avarice threatened, “If you so much as scratch that child, I’ll—”

“What is wrong with you?!” Thyone demanded, suddenly back in Avarice’s face. “First you invade my privacy, then you accuse me of hurting a kid?! What next?!” Thyone backed off, pacing and making dramatic gestures. “Are you going to accuse Betelgeuse of being in a cult? Or maybe Leila’s suddenly a murderer? Oh! I know, I bet Arthgallo—”

“Leave Arthgallo out of this!”

“Oh, like you left her out of this?!” Thyone gestured towards the exit, in the direction the hatchling fled.

Instead of answering, Avarice demanded once again, “What is she to you?”

“Why does she have to be anything to me?! Why can’t you trust your own clan mates?!”

“I trust my clan mates just fine, I just don’t trust you.”

“Oh really?” Thyone laughed mirthlessly, “Because the last time I checked, I was included in that group. Or at least everyone else seems to think so!” The alchemist paused. He took a deep breath and lowered his voice to just louder than a harsh whisper. “Maybe I’m not the problem here, Avarice. You ever consider that? Even if I am up to something, what makes you think it’d be so terrible for the clan? And what makes you think I’d hurt a kid—of all things!—to achieve that?”

Avarice said nothing. He just held Thyone’s gaze.

“Well?” Thyone scoffed, “Where’s that holier-than-thou rebuttal now, Captain?”

He just repeated, “What is she to you?”

“OH FOR THE LOVE OF—! What do you want me to say?! She’s my apprentice? My understudy? My adopted child?! I haven’t asked her to be anything except useful! She hasn’t asked me to do anything except let her sit and watch me work! She’s whatever she wants to be! Why do you even care?! She doesn’t even live here!”

Suddenly, Avarice’s concern crumbled away, leaving only a perplexed curiosity. “She doesn’t…live here?”

“Of course not! You work with all the big decision-makers. Have you heard anything from them about a new clan member?”

Avarice returned to his original question, “Then where does she sleep at night?”

Thyone rolled his eyes, “I don’t know! She hasn’t told me. I haven’t asked. We’ve been over this.”

Avarice’s thoughts trailed off, following the hatchling into the night…

Thyone’s sigh brought him back to reality, “If you must know, I once…just happened to mention the idea of her moving into the lair. Full-time.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“What did she say?

“She said nothing! She never says anything.”

“And let me guess.” Avarice sneered, “You didn’t ask.”

“No. I didn’t. Because unlike some people, I know the meaning of the word ‘privacy.’”

“She’s shy, Thyone. You said so yourself.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Maybe she’s waiting for you to ask.”

“Great. I hadn’t thought of that,” Thyone replied sarcastically. “Now if you’re done being a busybody, would you kindly get out of my lab?”

A few days later, Avarice noticed Betelgeuse pushing a crate into Thyone’s lab. Siegfried perched on top of it. He heard Thyone say something from inside the lab, but couldn’t make out what. Avarice’s mind instantly conjured a thousand suspicious reasons Thyone would need a crate full of supplies, and followed them in almost reflexively.

Inside, Betelgeuse struggled to pry the lid off the crate. Thyone was nearby, moving some shelves out of a corner where a shaft of sunlight came into the lab. The silent hatchling appeared with a crowbar, looking more chipper than Avarice had ever seen her. She handed Betelgeuse the tool and he thanked her kindly. She beamed in response.

“Oh hello Avarice,” Siegfried greeted, the first to notice him as Betelgeuse finally opened the crate.

Thyone looked up, muttered something about a busybody, and stepped over. Meanwhile, the hatchling scrambled onto the edge of the crate and peered happily inside.

“This is all surplus furniture and decorations,” Siegfried explained in typical fae monotone, “Take whatever you want. No one should miss it.”

The hatchling smiled gratefully and started rifling through the box excitedly.

“Don’t break anything,” Thyone ordered.

“What’s going on here?” Avarice inquired curiously.

“The hatchling is moving into the lab,” Betelgeuse offered immediately and cheerfully.

“What?”

Thyone rolled his eyes, “I decided it might be good to keep some extra eyes and ears around in case someone decides to go poking their nose where it doesn’t belong.” The alchemist looked pointedly at Avarice. “It might be temporary. Might not be.”

The hatchling pulled a tangled, tinkling wind chime out of the box and held it up, looking at Thyone with a questioning glance.

The Alchemist looked at it for a sec and answered, “Sure. But only if you can untangle it.” She immediately set to work prying at the knots.

Avarice couldn’t help but smile.

“What are you looking so chipper about?” Thyone barked at him.

“Nothing,” Avarice lied. In truth, he was relieved that the hatchling had seemingly nothing to do with Thyone’s scheming. Not even an instant after he had the thought, she held up the wind chime, untangled and ringing pleasantly.