Basta's Wrath
The evening air in Capricorn's village was cool and pleasant as Basta strode between the buildings at a leisurely pace. He was free that night, having no orders from Capricorn, and he rubbed his hands together with a grin as he pictured all the things he could get up to in his spare time...
The taste of peppermint leaves on his tongue assured him he would get no complaints from that quarter, not anymore. His faithful knife would assist him to get the attention of those he desired the company of... He reached his hand down to reassure himself it was still there, and relished the feel of the cold metal against his skin.
"Oh, Basta!"
Basta spun around, gritting his teeth at the only too-familiar voice, loathing rising inside him.
Dustfinger was leaning casually against the side of the building Basta had just passed, his scarred face pale against the sandy brick. That stinking weasel was on his shoulder, fangs bared at Basta.
"Oh, be careful, I think I see a black cat!" Dustfinger pronounced, pointing casually behind Basta.
Basta scowled, torn between checking Dustfinger's claim and not falling for another of the fire-eater's damn tricks. He settled with crossing his arms and tilting his head as if scoffing at Dustfinger's attempt to trick him, when really he was glancing at the alley behind him from the corner of his eye.
"What are you doing here, Dirty Fingers?" Basta demanded.
Dustfinger ignored him.
"Where are you off to? Going to seduce another of Capricorn's maids with your charm-or rather, your knife?" Dustfinger asked lightly, looking down with an esoteric smile that Basta wanted to carve off the disrespectful fire-eater's face. If only Capricorn didn't need Dustfinger to track Silvertongue, the owner of the last known copy of Inkheart, the same Silvertongue who had read the three of them into this world years ago. Then Basta would enjoy threatening Dustfinger, and perhaps cut him, see his well-deserved pain, perhaps even kill him, though Basta did not enjoy killing as the other fire-raisers did. Since Capricorn needed him however, Basta had orders not to harm him...more than was necessary.
"Have you forgotten what my knife did to you, fire-dancer?" Basta asked softly, spitting the peppermint leaves from his mouth into the dirt and drawing his knife in a flash. He saw the wary look in Dustfinger's eyes before the fire-eater covered up his fear with the mask of his supercilious smile.
Basta advanced on the fire-eater, almost determined to give him another reminder of who was boss around here. Or perhaps he'd kill the marten to teach its master a lesson.
"I'm catching up to Silvertongue." Dustfinger said abruptly.
Basta laughed.
"You really think that's going to stop me from carving another nice gash in your face?" Basta asked, his rough laughter fading. He fingered his favorite knife lovingly, caressing it in anticipation. He loved the wary fear in his enemy's blue eyes, knowing he had caused it.
Then suddenly, Dustfinger made a mocking bow.
"I must be off. I have to report to Capricorn, you know. Ta ta." The fire-eater said as he lithely exited the scene. Basta almost went after him...but as one of Capricorn's favorite henchmen, he didn't catch many breaks, and he'd rather be spending his free time with one of the more attractive maids than wasting it chasing after the hated fire-eater.
Chuckling to himself, Basta pocketed his knife carefully, liking how easily accessible it was from the pocket of his black jeans. From his other pocket he took out some more peppermint leaves, which he promptly put into his mouth and began chewing.
Avoiding the more uneven buildings and any ladders that might be waiting around to be walked under, Basta sauntered over to the residence of the prettiest maid, a mute, but nontheless, a lovely thing. He stopped before a large piece of silver metal that reflected his visage, lit by a torch left burning by whatever idiot had left the metal there. He surveyed his reflection, from his carefully trimmed, very dark brown hair (no strand was allowed to grow over two inches long), past his handsome, mildly angular face, with its well-trimmed eyebrows and cunning brown eyes, dark like chocolate but far from sweet, checking the smoothness of his long-sleeved, glossy white silk shirt, its fancy appearance diluted by the casual black jeans and gleaming black leather boots they were tucked into. He grinned at himself, then quickly looked around to make sure no one had seen.
Resa was already outside when Basta arrived. She looked almost like she was waiting for someone. When she caught sight of Basta however, her gentle, light brown eyes widened, and she turned to escape into the maids' quarters and perhaps lock the door, her beautiful pale golden hair lashing behind her as she quickly spun on the spot.
Basta raced to catch up to her, catching her arm in a firm grip just before she reached the door.
"Where do you think you're going, angel?" He rasped softly in her ear from directly behind her.
The young woman turned, fear evident in those pretty eyes of hers. She hesitantly placed both hands flat beside her face as she cocked her head and closed her eyes briefly, in the gesture many recognized as relating to sleep.
"If you're so exhausted, why are you in such a rush?" Basta chuckled, a spiteful grin spreading across his lips. He didn't let go of her arm.
Resa paused again. She looked as though she would like to glare at the man before her, his pepperminty breath wafting across her face.
Basta dropped his hand to hers and watched her tense. He felt a cruel pleasure at the reaction he inspired in others...
"I have a gift for you. Why don't you invite me inside, so my knife doesn't have to do it for you?" Basta hinted.
Resa reproachfully opened the door, slipping her slender hand out of his larger, rougher hand as she did so. That irked him only a little; hopefully he would feel the touch of something better than just the woman's warm hand soon, if his gift was received well and his charms appreciated...
Please review. Part 2 coming soon...