~Chapter 2~ Balancing Plates
Lenora strolled out of the kitchen, carefully balancing two plates of food. She was ecstatic at having gotten out of eating with her mother. After crossing through the small parlor next to the kitchen she entered the portion of the house where her father sold his products. She took a deep breath once inside the store. It was small and relatively bare. But it smelled nice, and clean. Besides, the store was part of her. She might not clean it when she was told, and maybe she didn't work hard enough but she'd made some of the things being sold.
I'm wasting time, she thought, guiltily. The food was cooling rapidly, and though her father wouldn't notice, she didn't want a cold meal. She hurried towards the door behind the counter. It was a tall wooden door leading to her father's workroom. She paused in front of it, while trying to get a free hand. The plates wobbled and she stopped suddenly. I'll get slapped if I drop the plates, she thought, greatly annoyed. "Father?" Her voice sounded anxious. "Father? I'm going to drop the plates!" She scowled. He'd probably fallen asleep at his desk. She clutched the plates and walked as fast as she could to the counter. She barely made it before her hands slipped. Shoving the plates onto the wood, Lenora smiled triumphantly as the plates neatly dropped to the counter with very little spilling. She left them there and wandered back over to the door.
"Father?" she called louder than before. Where is he…he was here a moment ago wasn't he? He asked me to bring him his dinner. She pushed the door and to her surprise it did not open. Father never locks this door. Not until her closes the store and stops working. She yanked at her hair uncertainly. "Father…" She felt ridiculous. Obviously no one was there.
She kicked at the door angrily. After the third kick it burst open. She fell forward in a flurry of gold hair and flailed arms. She cursed, stood, and dusted herself off crossly. She should have known that the door would be a cheap one, easy enough to open. I'm not much used to breaking into my own house, she thought acidly.
She looked around the room. It was cluttered, typically, with bolts of cloth lying around wherever her father'd seen fit to leave them. "This is why we," meaning Rhine and herself, "are always being told to clean this room." It was a half-hearted comment. There was certainly no one to hear since the room was undeniably empty. There were no signs that anyone had come in and abducted him. But her father wasn't there, where she'd left him. She took a step farther into the room hesitantly.
What's going on? That's strange. A gust of wind had swept in, drawing her attention to the open window. It was more than big enough for her father to get through. But why would he want to sneak through a window? And, more importantly, when was he coming back? Lenora wasn't looking forward to telling Margery that her husband had run away.
"Who could blame him?" She whispered. She turned away to leave, resigned to confronting her mother. She was half way through the door when a crash turned her back. I should run, she thought, but her legs wouldn't budge. She peered back into the room fearfully. "Father…"
The man, presumably her father opened his mouth and asked almost fearfully, "Rhine?" Lenora shook her head slightly.
"Lenora." She whispered aware that he couldn't possibly hear. But he knew who she was if she wasn't Rhine and he beckoned her forward. She went automatically. That's how it is with fathers. If they tell you to do something, you do it. "Why…why where you…" She gestured towards the window in explanation.
"Which you ask before asking if I'm all right." She must have looked mortified because he grinned. "I'm fine, as well as can be." He stood slowly, and looked at his leg with a grimace. "Give me some light, will you?"
Lenora nodded and held out her hand. Immediately a small ball of pale green light appeared in her palm. It occurred to her that her father should have been able to use his own gift, but perhaps he really was hurt. She followed his gaze and bit back a gasp. His leg had been gashed open and blood was soaking his thin, linen pants. "What happened?" she whispered as soon as she the shock had worn off.
"Nasty isn't it?" he commented with a pained grin. "I suppose I can't go to a healer about it either."
"You could. Say that you were cutting fabric." Lenora offered. Her father was avoiding her question, and for now she'd let it slip. But she'd get the answer even if she had to dose him liberally with some sort of truth potion. He nodded.
"I suppose. But I can't go now. You mother will notice." Lenora threw her father a quizzical look. Is he insane? He's bleeding really badly. It's gross. No wonder he hasn't been leaving this room much if he gets beaten up every night…oh!
"This is what you've been doing! This is why you haven't been eating with us." Lenora stared at her father. "What have you been doing?" She was in awe. Rhine and her were scared of their mother. They wouldn't dare lie about what they were doing. Not unless they were absolutely certain they weren't get caught. There was only one thing Lenora was comfortable lying to her mom about. And that was her friends. And where she went during the day. So father and I aren't all that different.
Her father still hadn't answered. She shrugged. "Food's on the counter over there. Do you need?" He shook his head.
"I'm going to sleep. My gift'll come back with sleep. And it'll tone down the pain somewhat. Just don't tell your mother." He warned. Lenora snorted. It was obvious. Of course she wouldn't tell. She turned to leave, closing the door behind her. It wouldn't do if Margery came in to say good night. If the door was closed, she wouldn't go in.
She ate in the store, and then quietly snuck back into the house. Mother and Rhine had long since finished their dinner and gone to sleep. She crept into her room. Rhine was snoring softly with one arm hanging off the bed. Lenora smiled and carefully got into the bed. Goddess Rhine. She sighed and turned her sister slightly so she was completely on the bed. One year younger and she still acts like she's six. She grinned as Rhine's whimpered. Night….
Hmm…I'm not sure if truth potions exist in Tortall. Sorry about that, but I had to put something there. I could've made up a catchier name than "truth potion" but I worried that you wouldn't know what I was talking about. But I am sorry if "truth potion" sounds dumb. Substitute it with whatever you like. In the mean time, please review! (And if you know, could you tell me something about truth potions?)
Truth, was that too horrible? I'm sort of just writing whatever. In fact, the storyline just changed completely, but I hope it's interesting for you, even if it's driving me crazy. ~Kat~