A.N. - This is a completely original work by me. I have had no help in writing it (but I have gotten tons of advice). I am positing it here for review.
Shopping
Smith's Supply Shop was nothing like Tailor Jenny's. It was huge and packed with shelves and shelves and shelves of stuff. There were books and bags and pots and pans. There were chairs and cloaks and boot and pillows and blankets. Smith's Supply Shop even had a walled-off room for food.
When the seven of them walked into the shop, a wave of strong scents filled their noses: tanned leather, cold steel rusty nails, old wood, and citrus fruit. Fayore sneezed so hard he fell back into Mike, who pushed him back up again. "I'm uh-ler-jik ta oranges," he explained sheepishly.
"Allergic is spelled A-L-L-E-R-G-I-C, just so you know," Keira said, side-stepping past Mike and Fayore. She looked around the vast store and turned to her companions, suggesting, "Maybe we ought to split up and look for different things. This place is huge and there's a curfew." They agreed to this and Bernard took his leave, saying something about 'hafta tend ta my wife.' They split up into pairs, each pair searching for a different set of items on Chrysis' list. Keira and Kristen went off looking for kitchen things, Dante and Fayore looked for boots, blankets, and other such appreciated things, and Chrysis and Mike were looking for preserved foods.
Kitchen things included cups and bowls and plates and forks and pots and pans and spoons and knives. And spatulas, Keira mentioned. They scanned the shelves in silence until Kristen though she would explode and cover the place with . . . whatever was in her veins now she was dead (and until she thought her face could not be any number from falling). It was the perfect chance to ask her about her problem with Chrysis! She had been wondering about it since the last night they had seen Father Nolatari back in Cerentia. Cerentia . . . Home. Kristen sighed. She missed home, with her annoying little brother and kind of creepy sister. She even missed her too-prefect mother and dorky dad. Think of the goal, Kristen, she reminded herself.
"Keira, what is your problem with Chrysis? Did you two know each other before or something?" she demanded to know.
Keira opened her mouth ready to lash out cruelly, but for some odd reason when she looked t Kristen, she closed her mouth, glanced down, and sighed. Shoving her hands in the pockets of the leather jacket she insisted on wearing, she answered quietly, "My parents really obviously played favorites with me and my younger sister, Jazlynn. When we were little, I was Father's favorite and Jazlynn's was Mom's. Then both Father and Mom favored Jazlynn for a long time until Jazlynn completely ruined my life. That was when Mom took me and ran off." Keira sighed again. "Chrysis just has that sort of charm to make people like her that Jazlynn had. They sort of look alike, too."
There was a short silence when they came upon the table settings. The whole set together was six robins. Thirty six robins for six wooden cups, six wooden plates, six wooden bowls, six wooden forks, and six wooden spoons. Kristen shuddered to think of that cost added to the cost of everything else Chrysis decided they needed.
"So it's just that Chrysis is so much like Jazlynn, not anything personal," Kristen murmured half to herself, half to confirm with Keira.
The other vampyr nodded. "Yeah . . . She takes it personally, though, right?" Kristen nodded as they began walking toward the front. "I don't mean to hurt her – it's just that sometimes I can't handle how much she resembles Jazlynn."
"I understand. She reminds me of my little sister, Cassie, minus Cassie's disturbing thirst for blood." At that Keira laughed. "And she reminds Dante of his sister as well."
"Seems like she's everybody's little sis," Keira mumbled.
"Except Fayore's," corrected Kristen.
"Well, yeah," Keira consented.
Meanwhile, Dante and Fayore were also having a heart-to-heart talk while they looked. Fayore was having a tough time keeping up with Dante and his long strides due to his lack of height. "Why d'ya hate me so much?" asked Fayore, jogging to keep up with the vampyr.
"Because you're untrustworthy."
"Why am I untrustworthy?"
"Because you're a wyrwolf."
"What's wrong with bein' a wyrwolf?"
"Your leader is trying to kill off my people."
"What if I don' wanna follow Prince Zorinthos? What if I wanna stay here with y'all an' help y'all?"
"You can still betray us at any time and get us all killed."
"Why would I wanna betray y'all an' go back ta bein' treated awful?" Fayore asked just before he ran into a barrel of ladles and knocked it over. Ladles spilled out and clattered all over the hard wooden floor that the wyrwolf also hit with a thump.
Dante stopped and leaned down close to Fayore. "Because you're an idiot and don't pay attention," he said clearly and harshly before striding off, leaving Fayore cleaning up the ladles as tears streamed down his face.
On the other side of the store, Mike typed up the things Chrysis called to him as they explored the food room. "You like her," Chrysis said, scanned the shelves for jars of preserved fruit.
"Do not," he mumbled. She glanced up at Mike and smiled.
"Oh yeah? Then why are you blushing?" she teased.
"It's an awkward topic of discussion, Chrissy, and you know it."
Chrysis grinned. "Because you like her."
"Shut up," Mike demanded, his face a bright cherry red.
"Dried apples are a robin a jar," Chrysis announced, "and I don't mind that you like her, I just don't want you getting hurt." She paused, then added, "unless you want her to, in which case you keep your trap shut."
"Oh, keep your mind on the task and quit gossiping!" Chrysis smiled. That was more like the Mike she had known for two and a half years now. When they walked down the next isle, leaving the food room, they found Fayore stuffing a couple of ladles into a barrel. As they came closer, Chrysis noticed his wet cheeks.
"Ladles are two robins each," he mumbled, voice cracking as he wiped his short sleeve over his face. Mike drummed the information into the document he had open.
"Where's Dante?" asked Chrysis and hugged Fayore.
"Dunno," he mumbled, a fat tear leaking from the corner of his eye.
Chrysis took the edge of her sleeve and wiped it away. "What happened?"
"I asked Dante why he hated me so much," Fayore sobbed, curling into Chrysis. "He said I was untrustworthy an' I'd betray y'all an' then I ran into that barrel an' he called me an idiot an' said I don't pay attention an then he walked off an' left me!" The wyrwolf clutched Chrysis with all his little bitty might, soaking her tie-dye shirt with his warm, salty tears.
Breaking up the sentimental moment, "Guys, we still need to look for salted meats." Chrysis glared at Mike for a moment, and then looked down at the boy.
"Here kid, how about you come with us and help us find the meats, okay?" Sniffling, the little wyrwolf nodded, his small fist wrapped in her shirt. "Okay. C'mon, let's go."
"I can sniff out the meat, like I did with the sausage an' y'all had ta find me," mumbled Fayore.
"Great idea," Mike said, stopping. "Why don't you lead us then?" Fayore nodded, sniffling some more and tugged Chrysis along behind him.
When they met back up at the front of the shop, Fayore was as bright and happy as usual, although his eyes were still red. Keira caught sight of him and scooped him into her arms, growling. Fayore giggled and hugged her. Kristen thought it was a strange reaction, but said nothing. Maybe growling at someone meant 'hello' in Fayore's Clan.
"Who made you cry? I'll kill them, I swear!" Fayore gulped. He didn't want to lie to Keira, but he didn't want her to kill Dante either.
"I'm fine, Aunt Keira, really. I just ran inta a barrel, that's all."
Suspiciously, Keira scolded, "Then why did you come back with Mike and Chrysis and not Dante?"
"'Cause he didn't notice that I'd run inta the barrel an kept walkin' while I cleaned up the stuff."
"Why didn't he look for you when he noticed you weren't with him anymore?" she asked fiercely.
"I dunno! Maybe he did an' saw me with Uncle Mike and Aunt Chrysis an' fig'red I was fine there. Or maybe he thought I'd slow him down or somethin'." Keira glared at Dante, but did not say anything to him.
"Well, we won't leave you alone with him anymore, that's for sure." Then they exchanged information, pausing every once in a while to unnecessarily give Mike time to type. The amount totaled forty-three ravens, two cardinals, and six robins.
"So how are we going to earn all that?" Keira demanded to know. "I mean, how are we going to earn that much so quickly?"
"Odd jobs?" suggested Mike.
"Bernard said he could give us a raven a week," Chrysis mention. "That would put it at a little under a year, if we just relied on Bernard."
"Someone could work at the inn," Dante said.
"Not me," Kristen threw out glumly. "Willow got mad at me for cleaning the kitchen." Chrysis laughed. "We should start walking back to the inn. It's almost curfew." They all nodded and started back.
"I could. I think I saw a plug-in in the main room. I can charge my laptop when I'm working, have it scan for viruses and stuff."
Fayore tugged on Keira's ponytail. "Can I still work at the Stevens'? Please?"
"Of course," Kristen told him. "And maybe you can ask them if they have anything on our list of stuff that they'd be willing to give us."
Chrysis blinked at her. "Great idea, Kristen. We can ask Bernard and Willow, too. No food, though. We'll need to buy that just before we leave."
"Alright. Fayore keeps working at the Stevens' and Mike works at the inn. What about the rest of us?"
"Well, I can help out Bernard's wife, Elizabeth. She already knows me and she said she's been needing their basement cleaned out for a few weeks now. She hasn't had the time."
"Mother and Rose used to make me cook for them. They said I was really good at it."
"Actually, do you think you can work at Tailor Jenny's?" Kristen asked. "Rae really likes you, so you'll probably be able to get in to help easier than the rest of us would."
Keira added, "I can cook pretty well, too."
"Kristen's a better chef, though," Mike said. "You admitted it yourself, Dante."
"But Willow hates me."
"Sam doesn't!" Fayore said. "If Sam can sneak ya inta the kitchen an' ya cook something and Willow eats it, I bet he won't be so mad at you an' he'll let you cook!"
"So it's settled. Dante's tortured by Rae, Kristen tried not to get kicked out, and I can try getting a job at the Supply Shop."
"When was that brought up?" Mike asked, tucking his laptop safer under his arm.
"Just now, by me."
"Oh . . . "
"What about curfew, Keira?" Kristen brought up, patting Fayore's back. "You and Dante and Chrysis will have to worry about it."
"We're from the Savage Forest, remember?" Dante replied quietly as they passed a large group of wiry, bald monks in homespun brown robes. "Who knows what kind of habits we have?"
Chrysis grinned. "We're nocturnal, because the glaring sunlight makes it hard to hunt."
"What does knock-turn-uhl mean?" the wyrwolf asked, turning so he could stare quizzically at Chrysis.
"An animal active at night that sleeps during the day. Like," Keira paused, searching for an example, "wolves."
"I like wolves. They kept me comp'ny when I got kicked outta camp fer the night."
"Why were you kicked out of the camp?" Chrysis asked.
"Usually fer askin' questions an' sometimes fer disobedience, they said."
"Who are they? The Council?" demanded Keira. She felt more than saw him nod.
"Can I got inta the kitchen an' watch Sam cook?" he asked. "It smells real good in there." They were still several meters away from the entrance to the inn and Keira laughed. Why does she like him so much? Kristen wondered. She never said anything about a little brother.
"Of course you can," Keira answered. He hugger her and mumbled something about wishing 'Uncle Dante' loved him like she did.
"Chrysis?" Fayore mumbled, his face pressed against the vampyrs back.
"What?"
"You smell nice . . . Like lilacs . . ."
"Do you want to smell nice, too?"
"Yeah!"
"Then we'll set up a bath for you." Chrysis began walking toward the bar in the inn's main room. Fayore wrinkled his nose.
"Do I have to?" Obviously he did not like the idea of soap, water, and him all at the same time.
"You need one."
"I won't do it."
"Why not?"
"'Cause . . . 'Cause only the boys leavin' ta go get Initiated take one 'a those things. I won't do it. I won't betray y'all." The longer Fayore talked, the deeper he sunk his long, yellow nails into Chrysis' side. She winced.
"We know you would never do such a thing to us, Fayore, despite what Dante says." The little wyrwolf shook his head, refusing to believe her. "Look, Fayore, Dante never liked wyrwolves to begin with, and then for the longest time he believed that your Clan murdered his little sister. And then you, a wyrwolf, come along and tell him his sister really didn't die and you keep bugging him. He needs time to think and adjust, Fayore. You can't expect him to change overnight." She gave him a goofy grin. "That, and I'll bet he was pretty paranoid before his sister died but didn't. So, are you ready to take a bath now?"
Fayore shook his head stubbornly, but his grip had loosened. "Well . . ."
"What do you mean, 'well'?" Chrysis demanded kindly.
"Aunt Keira an' Uncle Dante are mad all the time an' Uncle Mike's obsessed with his what-cha-ma-call-it an' Aunt Kristen can't walk in a straight line to save her life . . ."
"What about me?"
"Ya can be real, uh, absent-minded . . ."
"Do you think that maybe that's not the baths? That it's just who we are?"
Fayore violently shook his head. "No. It's the baths," he argued stubbornly.
"Fayore, the five of us haven't had a proper bath in three weeks. It can't be the baths."
"It is! It's a perm'nent thing an' it gets worse the more baths ya take. It's too late to save y'all, but I won't let it happen to me!"
"Won't let what happen to you?" Kristen asked, striding towards them.
"I won't let the evilness o' baths 'ffect me like they've 'ffected you! I won't! I wont, I won't, I won't!"
"Says you," Kristen retorted, lifting the tiny boy and swinging him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "You're taking a bath whether you like it or not."
"Nooooooooooooooooooo! Heeeeeeeelp! Help meeeeeee!" screeched Fayore, struggling to put his little feet on the ground and flee in terror of the 'evilness of baths.' He hit and kicked and scratched and bit her. His awful, piercing shrieks filled her sensitive, vampyr ears so that she could ear nothing else.
Thus attired, Kristen walked back into the inn, slowing frequently to adjust Fayore on her shoulder. She ignored the shocked and utterly disturbed expressions on the faces of the guests as she stalked through the main room of Willow Jack's Bed and Breakfast. Speaking of Willow Jack . . .
"What are you doing to that poor boy?" Willow yelled suddenly, hopping up from the two-seater table he had been at with Sam and rushed toward them.
"Takin' me to my DOOOOOOOM!" Fayore screamed, pushing on Kristen's collar and shoulder.
Willow hesitated, puzzled. "Your doom?"
"My imminent DOOOOM!"
"Ummm . . . Your imminent doom? Didn't you practically worship her and her brother yesterday?"
"Back then I didn't know her true intentions!"
"And what are those 'true intentions'?" Willow asked him following Kristen as she made her way to the well behind the tavern room. Kristen, he knew, had gone through the main room because it was the shortest way out. But that still didn't mean she wasn't scaring away customers.
Fayore stopped suddenly and stared Willow in the eye. "She's going to prepare me to be her mindless, aggressive slave."
"How?"
"By forcing me to bathe."
Kristen, by now, was perfectly aware that Fayore had stopped struggling and was already moving to grab Mike and Keira, sitting at a table nearby, so she could tell them to help her.
Willow laughed. "A bath? That's what this is about? A bath? Baths are good fer ya! They get all th gunk offa yer body."
"An' soul," Fayore grumbled, glaring off to the side.
At the same time, Kristen was badgering Mike and Keira. She was in no mood to deal with anyone at the moment, with her bruised back and all. "Quiet flirting, you two, and get me a large tub and some warm water to fill it up with. Oh, and soap. Well need soap. Take it all out back, alright?"
Keira glared at her and roughly poked Mike, absorbed in his laptop, and motioned for him to follow. Keira then stormed off, Mike at her heels. Meanwhile, Kristen continued on her trek to the back door.
"Even if ya don't like water, a bath ain't all that bad, y'know, kid," Willow told Fayore. "The only bad thing 'bout baths is soap, an' that's only if it gets in yer eyes."
Fayore blinked. "If I can take a bath without . . . 'soap', I'll stop arguin' 'bout it." Maybe I can convince 'em they're givin' me a bath when they aren't really . . .
"But it's the soap that gets ya clean," Willow argued. "Don't worry 'bout it, kid. Baths're real fun with soap, 'specially when S–" Willow jerked and coughed awkwardly before going on. "When there's so many bubbles you can hardly breathe."
"Bubbles?" questioned Fayore hollowly. "Since when were we talkin' 'bout bubbles?"
"Um, soap an' water make bubbles, kid. Ya ever seen anyone take a bath afore?" Sheesh, that forest really is as savage as they say.
"Yes, once." Fayore shuddered at the memory. "It was scary. Two of the biggest men in the camp had to hold him down while Lord Veshnir cleaned him . . . He kept creaming like it was clawing him to shreds."
Thoroughly disturbed, Willow said, "That ain't a bath, kid. That's some kind 'a cruel torture."
"It was too a bath!" the little wyrwolf replied stubbornly.
"Mmmmm." Willow wasn't too sure they were talking about the same thing anymore.
Kristen dropped Fayore on the grass behind the inn's tavern room keeping her arm wrapped tightly around his chest to keep him from fleeing.
Keira came out lugging a large tin tub followed by Mike with several bars of soap. Kristen didn't think twice about why Keira, the girl, was carrying the heavier thing. She had long since become used to their way of doing things. Sam strolled out after them with a bucket full of hot water. "Heard this kid ain't ever taken a bath," he explained, gesturing toward Fayore.
Fayore eyed the soap suspiciously. They took turns getting the bath set up, dumping water into the tub. It was run rather like a fire brigade and made Kristen proud. When the tub was full and there was a good amount of bubbles, Kristen ordered Fayore to strip off his nasty clothes and get his dirty, stinky butt in the bath. Sulking, Fayore did as he was told.
Once Fayore was settled in the tub and Keira was watching him, Kristen went back inside to find Chrysis and gather a brush, a pail of warm water, and a scrub for Fayore.
"Do you know where a scrub is?" Kristen asked.
Chrysis smiled. "I was just on my way to get that," she said. "They keep this place organized just like . . ." Chrysis trailed off and walked away before Kristen could ask what she was talking about. Then she shrugged and went to fill her bucket with water.
On her way out, Kristen ran into Dante and told him to get her a towel and take it out back. He looked about to argue but Kristen gave him such a ferocious glare he padded away to do as he was told. Kristen continued outside to discover Fayore covered in bubbles and having a grand old time splashing Sam and being splashed back. She set down the pail and narrowly dodged being splashed herself by the little wyrwolf. "I'm guessing this wasn't your idea of a bath, was it?"
Fayore laughed. "Yes!" he shouted, getting a face full of soapy water. Spluttering, Fayore went on, "I'll explain later, okay?"
"Be sure to wait for the rest of us, okay?" Kristen said. She did not want him to just start babbling, especially in front of Sam.
"'Course, Aunt Kristen!" giggled Fayore, splashing at Sam again. And so the water-war resumed. Kristen went back inside to perhaps find Chrysis. On one of the tables near the stairs, Kristen noticed Mike's laptop sitting perilously close to the edge. As she moved to push it closer to the center, a word in large red font caught her light green eyes. ELESIN. Elesin . . . Kristen ran the word through her memory. Elesin was the capital of the wyrwolf empire. Elesin was the last city along The Path. Elesin was their destination. Kristen eagerly sat down and began reading.
ALL COMMANDING OFFICERS RETURN TO ELESIN IMMEDIATELY.
There has been confirmation that three to five vampyrs have escaped their holding. They were last known to be heading toward The Path. Two weeks to a month have passed since they escaped. They were last known to be heading towards The Path. The vampyrs cannot have gotten far. If you find them, incapacitate them immediately and bring them ALIVE to Elesin to discuss this and other important matters. This is a direct order from Prince Zorinthos. Failure is not an option. Dated May 28th (Yesterday).
Mortified, Kristen returned to the room she had slept in the day before and laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling. After what could have been two minutes or two hours, the little snake Kristen found after her dream of Rose's 'death' slithered up onto the palm of her hand. She glanced down at it.
"How are you doing, little buddy?"
"Desssent. What'sss on your mind?" he asked, slithering up her arm. The feel of scales on the soft side of her forearm made her shiver.
"We're being hunted by wyrwolves now. Since yesterday." Kristen's throat was tight, her voice raspy as if she had been crying.
"But didn't you know that if you were disssscovered you would be hunted?"
"I never thought it would be so soon!" she moaned. Worry was eating away at her calm the way Fayore first gnawed on her leg.
"You left a watched sssity! It'sss amazing you've made it az far az you have without being hunted," the snake assured her.
"Yeah . . ." Kristen supposed the snake was right. Honestly, she should have expected it, especially since the wyrwolves must have known about Dante. "Say . . . What's your name? I can't keep calling you 'the snake.'"
"True. My name iz Sssssewaraté, but I jussst go by War." Kristen smiled. What a thing to cheer her up, making friend with a snake. What would Brooke have said?
Brooke had been Kristen's best friend for as far back as she could remember. They used to do everything together. She wondered about how Brooke was getting along without her. Probably better than she ever did while I was there, Kristen mused grouchily.
Best friend or not, Brooke was definitely the prettier of the two. She had long, white-blonde hair that shined gold in the right light and he was beautifully thin. Her skin was perfect porcelain, unblemished and without sign or wear. Brooke was a petite girl, maybe only Mike's height, with a rounded face and small nose. However, it was her eyes that grabbed people's attention and held it hostage. They were a very pale turquoise with a thing, jagged gold ring in between her jet black pupils and the edge of her iris.' And she never tripped either.
The sound of the door creaking open brought Kristen back to the present, but it was the over-whelming, gagging smell of lilacs that yanked Kristen back to reality. She jumped up, coughing, and landed with a ker-splat on the floor.
"You know, no matter how bad I feel, thinking of you always makes me feel better."
Kristen knew that voice. She knew it very well.
"Thinking of you doing something horribly stupid, anyway."
Yep. Exactly who she thought it was.
"I hate you," Kristen grumbled, sitting up. Dante laughed at her. "What do you want?"
"Chrysis said you decided we would have some sort of meeting to discuss 'things.'" He looked at her oddly. "I'm rather curious as to what 'things' we are supposed to discuss," he asked dryly.
"Uh, well, I told Fayore he had to wait to tell us about what he meant by 'bath,' but other than that, I didn't decide anything," replied Kristen, flustered. Why would Chrysis lie about something like that? Maybe she just imagined Kristen told her that . . .
"Riiiiiiiiiiight. Anyway, I figured now would be as good a time as any to begin teaching you four. We'll start with abilities, so they don't occur when you're trying to do something important."
"Okay. Actually, I found something on Mike's laptop that was interesting –"
"Tell us about it in a bit. I'll round up the others," interrupted Dante as he began walking away.
"Okay," Kristen said meekly, feeling put out for some strange reason.
Dante stopped dead in his tracks and turned back toward her. "Was that a submissive tone I heard?"
Defiantly, Kristen replied, "Maybe."
"Ah, there it went," said Dante, mock-remorsefully and walked out.
A.N. 2 - Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think, or if you have any suggestions/comments/complaints. But if you're just going to say it sucks, don't. That's not helpful. And if you notice any typos, please let me know.