Author Notes: Oh jeepers! Hey everyone! Guess who finally finished her exams and is officially on summer break? This gal! Ill still be keeping busy since I'll be not one, but two jobs! Still, I hope I can publish chapters more frequently now. Enjoy the chapter!
It was dark when Lea returned home. The distant sounds of nighttime partying drifted into her neighborhood as she walked its cobbled streets. Moonlight bounced off the walls of adjacent buildings, sending eerie shadows creeping across the ground. From the center of the city far behind her a firework went off, startling a nearby dog into peals of barking. The lights in a home clicked on, as an owner reprimanded their pet into silence, and then the street became quiet again.
Lea carried groceries, the plastic bag crinkling quietly with every step she took. It was filled to the point of breaking with supplies Mr. Livingstock had instructed her to get. Her feet ached from all her trips around town, and a headache was pounding in her skull. When the Trippoli Printing Press finally came into view, she gave a small sigh of relief.
She opened the door to a dark and quiet home. The only light came from a small candle burning in the kitchen. From somewhere in the press, a clock ticked steadily, counting every second. Careful not to disturb either of the boys, no doubt asleep by now, she quietly slipped over her coat and moved towards the sole, flickering light.
As she approached the swinging gate to the kitchen, she paused at the sight of a shadowy silhouette, just barely illuminated by the candlelight. Someone was in her kitchen. They were seated and hunched over the table, barely stirring. They didn't seem to notice her.
Lea held her breath. She gently set the plastic grocery bag on the floor, cringing at the rustle it made. With a free hand, she retrieved a pocket knife from her bag and crept towards the doorway. The only sound she could hear was her own heart beating at double pace. When she reached the swinging partition that separated the room, she swept her arm in towards the kitchen wall and flicked on the electric lights.
The figure leapt from his seat in surprise. Lea pointed her knife accusingly, but let it fall to her side when she saw who it was.
"Reynie…" she sighed.
"Oh! You scared me, Lea." He gave her a sheepish smile.
"Likewise. What were you doing in the dark?"
"Working," he nodded to a pencil and thick book lying open on the table, "and it wasn't completely dark. I had a candle."
"Working? At this hour?" She pushed through the gates and joined him at the table.
"I..couldn't sleep," he admitted, "So I got a jump on writing you and your grandfather's entries for the Psychic File."
"Ah, so that's what this is." Lea slid the book towards her and peered down at it.
Reynie's slanted handwriting covered the page. Paragraphs of random letters hiding secret messages had been dashed across the paper, and at the very top was an encoded title:
MFBOFMMF LIFUB
"Leanelle Kieta?" She guessed, pointing at the cipher. Reynie nodded. "Well that's not much of a code, is it?"
Reynie laughed. "Maybe not for you, but for a Ten Man decoding all of this from scratch, it would prove quite tricky. Your information is protected by multiple different ciphers and a rotating key that I switch every few sentences."
Lea gave a whistle of approval.
"It's clever—"
"I'm flattered."
"—but it needs one teensy edit." Snatching his pencil, Lea scratched out the encrypted heading and wrote her own name in large, clear lettering. "I want the Ten Men to know exactly who their enemy is," she explained. "Now come help me with these groceries."
The book gave a great thud as she shut it. Reynie shook his head and stood to help her unpack two jars of peanut butter, several water bottles, and packets of saltines, among other supplies.
"What are these for?" He asked, holding up three jewel-embedded masquerade masks. One was a deep emerald green with gold embellishments, the other ruby and silver, and the last a royal purple and bronze.
"These—" Lea grabbed a mask and tugged it on, "—are our way out of town. I met with an old friend of the family today, someone in the smuggling business. He'll get us out of here."
"Smuggling, huh? Smuggling what?"
"Anything and everything: Weapons, substances, information—" she glanced at Reynie, "—people. My mother did business with him even before Curtain took over, but she became a more regular customer when the media restriction laws were passed."
Reynie shook his head. "I can't believe our resistance never heard about your mother…I wish I'd gotten to meet her, work with her."
"Maybe you'll still get that chance," Lea said with a smile, "and if you want to get to know her in the meantime, we should have some old copies of illicit newspapers down in the basement. Momma always did say that words are the windows to the soul."
Lea pulled her mask off and handed it back to Reynie. "Here, pick your favorite of the three. I'll tell you and Grandpa the details of the plan tomorrow morning; it's been a long day and I need some rest." Gently shutting an open spice drawer, she left the kitchen, leaving the young man and the enormous file behind.
"Good night!" Reynie called after her, but she gave no indication that she had heard him.
Taking the masks in hand, Reynie set to packing up his notes. His pencil's eraser was almost completely worn down; he made a mental note to get another one before they left town. Just before he blew out the candle, Reynie contemplated the three disguises. After a moment, he picked up the green mask and turned it in his hands. Yes, that one would do
…
The plan was simple enough. Mr. Livingstock was a prominent figure both underground and above the surface, and his many years in the business had brought him substantial wealth. To maintain a friendly reputation, he was generous in donating to the poor, but he also threw frequent and lavish parties for select guests. To the people of Trippoli, an invitation to one of these celebrations was considered to be worth more than jewels.
The parties were truly the greatest of their kind. Hosted in Mr. Livingstock's manor, a Mediterranean palace of luxury, they would tantalize guests with indulgent food, unending drink, and riveting entertainment. When the end of the night finally came, partygoers would leave effusively joyous and with flowers braided in their hair.
Others, however, had a much different experience. For while the parties were indeed a means of revelry, they also served as suitable cover for many of Mr. Livingstock's more illicit dealings. In the midst of all the celebration, deals were struck and executed, and for this reason Mr. Livingstock never indulged himself in even a drop of drink or a modicum of latitude during these parties.
Naturally, Mr. Livingstock would be hosting one such revelry for Trippoli's victory in the Tetherball World Championship. Such an unparalleled event called for an unparalleled celebration, and Mr. Livingstock was taking a few days to prepare for what would be his most spectacular showcase yet. At least, this was the explanation the public was given. In truth, the extra time was needed to secure room for three extra stowaways on a train out of town.
"We got lucky," Lea explained. "There's another family looking to get away that Mr. Livingstock had already scheduled. He'll just need to add us into the equation."
"How long do we have?" Reynie asked.
"The party's in three days. We'll pop in for a few minutes, have a drink, and then one of Mr. Livingstock's associates will lead us down to the station."
"And then we say goodbye to Trippoli," Mr. Kieta muttered.
Lea nodded.
Three days to get their affairs in order. For Reynie, it was ample time, but for the Kieta's it was not nearly enough. But, there was nothing that could be done and so compromises were made. In the time they did have, Reynie and Mr. Kieta stayed home, packing what they deemed essential and hiding any valuables that were not.
Lea, meanwhile, left early in the morning and was out the whole day. So pivotal was Lea's role in the community, and so great was the number of people who depended on her, that entirely new arrangements had to be made to replace her. Luckily, she found many willing volunteers who, with tearful goodbyes, offered to take on her old responsibilities.
Three days passed quicker than any of them were ready for. When the day arrived, Reynie found himself in Grandfather Kieta's room, where Mr. Kieta was helping him knot a green tie around his neck.
"There," he patted the boy on the shoulder, "You're all set."
"Thank you."
"Proper presentation is very important, Reynie. Your father never taught you this sort of thing?"
Reynie thought of Mr. Benedict and gave a sad smile. "Once, but it's been a very long time. I've never really been the type for formal dress."
"Well come look at yourself then."
Taking his arm, Mr. Kieta guided Reynie to a floor length mirror, one of the few pieces of furniture in his austere bedroom.
"Like what you see?"
He was wearing Lea's father's old clothes; a dark gray vest, collared shirt, and dress pants. His hair had been slicked down neatly with gel, and Mr. Kieta had even gone so far as to shape his eyebrows with a small brush.
"I'm just glad the clothes fit." Reynie took the green mask out of his pocket and pulled it over his head. "Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Kieta. I'd be happy to return the favor, if you want any help getting ready."
"Me? Oh, I'm not going."
Reynie stopped fidgeting with his shirt cuff and looked down at the old man. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."
"I'm not going."
"To get dressed?"
"To the party. I'm staying in Trippoli."
Reynie stared at him blankly, and Mr. Kieta sighed.
"Come on son, sit down if you must." Reynie followed him to the bed and sat on the edge. The mattress sank and squeaked beneath him.
"I'm an old man, Reynie. A trip would not only be taxing on my health but difficult to manage practically."
"If your concerned about your chair, we can—"
Mr. Kieta waved a hand to silence him. "Let me finish, Reynie. Beyond the arduous requirements of the trip, I simply don't feel compelled to leave. My family, as much as I adore them, have always been overbearing. I know it all comes from a place of concern, but it's rather suffocating. Especially after the Improvement, Lea has become fiercely protective. She is young and full of promise; she shouldn't be wasting her energy looking over me. And she must learn that I will be okay on my own."
Reynie reached out and took Mr. Kieta's hand. "Have you already told her?"
The man nodded. "We discussed it this morning, but don't mistake me as impulsive, Reynie. I've known this would be my decision since we first began to discuss leaving."
"It might be dangerous for you to stay. The police—"
"Can do their worst. If they feel so threatened by this old coot, I'll take it as a compliment."
"What will you do while we're gone?"
A small chuckle escaped Mr. Kieta lips. "Who knows? Certainly not me!"
With a small sigh, Mr. Kieta cast his eyes to the ground. "Go on then, Reynie. Lea will be waiting."
"Don't you want to say goodbye to her?"
"We already have. Drawing this out would be harder for both of us."
Reynie nodded and got to his feet. After a quick smoothing of several wrinkles in his vest, he moved towards the doorway.
"Reynie?" Mr. Kieta called from behind him.
Reynie turned, hand lingering on the doorknob. "Yes?"
"Look after my granddaughter—"
"I will."
"—and stay safe."
For a moment, Reynie remembered the matronly figure of Mrs. Lowry and her last words to him. His heart ached.
"I'll try, Mr. Kieta. I promise, I'll try."
Reynie grabbed his satchel off the hook he'd set it on. Out of pure instinct, he reached into the bag and confirmed the file was still there. With one last glance at Mr. Kieta, Reynie left and made his way into the living room.
Warm light from the sunset shined in through the windows, illuminating the cozy space. Lea stood in the center of the room, her back to Reynie. Slung over her shoulder was a large duffel bag, a tasteless accessory to accompany the elegant maroon dress she wore. She was gazing around the room, running her hand along the armrest of her grandfather's chair.
"Lea?"
The woman turned to him and smiled under her mask. "You look dapper."
"Thank you. You look splendid."
"Yes, we're both quite pretty. Do you have everything you need?"
Reynie patted his satchel. "I'm all ready. Are you?"
Lea sighed and began to scan the room once more. "Yes. I was just taking a moment…to let it all soak in."
"You'll be back. Someday."
"How do you know?"
"I just do."
Lea laughed softly. "C'mon Reynie, we don't want to be late."
"May I?" Reynie asked, offering her his arm.
"You may," she grinned, taking it.
Both called a final goodbye to Grandfather Kieta, and then the two of them stepped out of the Trippoli Printing Press and into the warm evening glow.
End notes: I know we've had a couple dialogue heavy, slow paced chapters in a row, but I promise the action is going to kick up soon. Have a great summer, and see you next update!
