Twenty || Sunset

"So I, um, I kinda wanted to talk to you guys."

The statement came after a long bout of silent walking, and caught Rue and Mint somewhat off-guard. Elena, basket and blanket in hand, had fetched them from the inn a short while ago, animatedly talking to Mrs. Cartha while she waited for them, but other than a few cursory words exchanged on the way out of town she had been surprisingly quiet, and had a little less bounce in her step than usual. That sentence was the first she had spoken to them since they had started down the path to the lake.

"Yeah?" Mint asked. "Don't think we needed to walk all this way to do that."

"Well, no, it's just..." She fidgeted, her hands wringing the handle of the basket.

"Something specific?" Rue prompted.

"Yeah."

She fell quiet again, her brow furrowed, the edges of her lips twitching into a faint frown. When she continued to stay quiet, Mint coughed and cast a sidelong glance at Rue. It took him a few seconds to realize what she was trying to communicate.

"About what?" he asked.

"About... um..." Her grip on the basket tightened. "You guys are... you're probably gonna wind up leaving soon, huh?"

Now both of them exchanged a confused glance.

"What makes you say that?" Rue asked.

"Dad's been tellin' me about what you guys're doing. How his research is going. I know why you're gonna go talk to a dragon, and– and what comes after that. When Prima's finished, I mean."

Mint tilted her head. "What are you talking ab– oh. The Relic."

"Yeah," she said. "You'll be able to get the Relic, and after that... I guess you guys aren't gonna stay much longer."

"Is that what this is about?" Mint asked.

Elena nodded.

"I– I kinda wanted to spend more time with you, I guess," she said. She turned where she was and started walking backwards, keeping them both in sight. They slowed down as a consequence, but none of them protested. "You freed me from those ruins and you hadn't even met me" – she nodded to Mint, then looked to Rue – "and you rescued me in the church today. And you helped Terence."

"I was meaning to ask you what was up with that," Mint said. "Both of those, actually."

Elena laughed. "It was really cool! Did you know that Rue–"

"I saved Terence from some thieves," Rue said quickly, cutting off Elena. "And today was... more complicated than that."

"Well, you sure showed me," Mint said. "Now I have absolutely no desire to know why you're being so cagey."

"Just to the point." He looked back to Elena. "Sorry, Elena, you were saying...?"

"Right." Some of her ebullience faded. "I mean, I just... I dunno. I– I like both of you, and Mom says Dad hasn't been this happy in a long time, and when he was telling me about Prima he said that when he's all ready you'll get the Relic, and when you get the Relic then you won't have any reason to stay around here, will you? You'll both be ready to go home."

Mint nodded. "Yeah," she said, "I guess that's true. I've gotta head home when all this is done. Plans to make, you know. People to punish." She shot a glance at Rue. "And I suppose you're doing the same thing."

"Not so much the part about punishing people."

"Well, we can't all dream big." She regarded him carefully. "Got somebody back home?"

He mulled it over for a few seconds before replying. "In a manner of speaking."

Mint's expression brightened, and she exchanged a quick smirk with Elena before looking back at him. "You've got a lady waiting for you, don't you?"

He blinked. "Well, yes."

"Knew it!"

He took a few more seconds to realize what Mint was implying, and laughed faintly. "No, no, it's not like that. She's family."

Mint fell back slightly. "That's harder to make fun of."

"Sorry?"

"But that's nice," Elena cut in suddenly. "I'm sure she'll be happy to see you again." Even as she said it, her expression faltered slightly. "Still, I wish I could've seen you more."

They fell quiet again for a few minutes, walking along in relative silence. The trees were thinning and the path starting to slope upward; the crest of the hill was just becoming visible through the foliage.

Finally, Mint spoke up again.

"Well, you know," she said. "This place is really quiet. Maybe after I establish my kingdom, I'll come out here and build a vacation home. Ruling the world is gonna be a pretty intensive job, I'll need some place to relax." She shrugged. "I guess you guys could come visit."

"Can we? That sounds wonderful!"

Mint looked over. "That includes you, pretty-boy."

Rue realized a few seconds later she was looking at him, and returned her gaze with a look of abject confusion. "Excuse me?"

"I'm inviting you to my future summer home," she said. "Are you already turning me down?"

"What? No. I just–" He cut himself off, exhaled, shook his head. "Never mind."

"Well, that's settled," Mint said. "How's that sound? He'll do his thing, I'll do mine, we'll come by and visit."

"Okay!"

Elena had a little more spring in her step by the time they stepped out into full sunlight. She sprinted up ahead of Rue and Mint, cresting the hill and settling there. As she started setting down the blanket, Mint stepped closer to Rue and lowered her voice.

"So, hey. What did happen earlier today?"

Rue thought about how best to start. "You know those dolls we found in Elroy's atelier?"

"Yeah?" She paused, processing the information. "You found more of them?"

"They found us, actually."

She waited a few seconds, but when he didn't elaborate she spoke up again. "You want to be a little more ominous?"

"I'll tell you after. Promise." He nodded up the hill. "Let's keep the conversation... buoyant, okay? Just for now?"

Mint frowned, but nodded. "Yeah. Fine."

They reached the top of the hill. By the time they were ready, the sky was darkening to indigo in the east; to the west, the sun had disappeared beneath the tree line, streaking the sky with warmth. The lake gleamed golden.

Elena had put together a nice spread; leftovers from the previous evening, fresh bread, jams and jellies, and the promised pie– although the one she presented was strawberry-almond, not pumpkin.

"I guess they haven't arrived yet," Elena explained.

"Good," Mint grumbled. "I hate pumpkin."

They spent the actual meal-time mostly quiet; now that her worst worries were assuaged, Elena seemed content to simply enjoy the moment together. And that suited Rue and Mint fine.

. .

"Returning to your room, sir?"

Duke had been halfway through the hotel lobby when the voice came to him, and was loathe to stop on the way there. It had taken him a fair while to get back from the cathedra, and all he wanted at that moment was to slip up to the hotel room, collapse on a bed, and pass out for a bit. His failure to retrieve what Rue had been looking for hung heavy off of him– and it had been a failure. Duke had left without further confrontation because he knew if they got into another round of fighting, he was utterly spent. Rue had been, too, but whatever had clocked Duke over the head had done a number on him, and when the adrenaline started to wear off he realized he was queasy and dizzy and really needed to sleep off the damage before trying again.

Not that he had really wanted to press the fight after the foray into the cathedral, anyway; it wouldn't have felt right. Point of fact, he was somewhat glad that he'd taken that nasty blow to the head so he would at least have a legitimate explanation for why he had left the items behind. Belle was not the sort of woman who accepted 'irrational sentimentality' as a reason for abandoning treasure.

He looked over to the hotel desk.

The hotel was a swank affair, all clean colors and fine fabrics and overly elaborate flower displays. It was far more than he would have taken, personally – he would have been just as content to go across town square and rent a room at the inn – but Belle had her preferences and he wasn't going to protest too much about them. Besides, he got the fringe benefits of her finer tastes; it was hard for him to argue when the beds were so soft, especially returning to them after a rough day like this one.

One of the hotel managers was behind the desk, waiting for his response. He was just as crisp and prim as the hotel itself, dressed in fine robes and standing with an air of poise and the easy confidence of the aristocracy. Duke regarded him from their short distance, trying to remember which one he was, but it was no good; Leeson and Solin, the two managers, were identical twins, and seemed to take a bit of pride in ensuring that none of their clientele could actually tell them apart.

At least, Duke certainly couldn't.

"Ah, yeah," he said, a little uncertainly. "Is there a problem with that?"

"Not at all, sir," the man said. "I merely wished to inform you that Madam Delaney arrived only a short while ago." He paused. "She is not in the best of moods."

Leeson, then. He had a tendency to give Duke a minor warning about that sort of thing.

"I'll be careful," he said. "Thanks."

Duke walked past him and up the stairs and felt dread tug at his heart. His failure, he had figured out how to talk around, and if Belle had succeeded there was relatively lost. But if she had failed, too...

He reached the door to their room and stood still, listening. No sound from behind. He walked a little further down, to the hotel washroom. From there he heard the sound of running water, saw little tendrils of steam reaching out from under the door, and turned back to the room. That was her, all right; she had a tendency to take blistering showers when she was trying to work off some steam herself.

Duke had never actually seen it work, but he wasn't about to intrude on her system.

He entered their room, considered what to do next, and just gave up and fell face-first onto the bed. She would come in. She would be angry. Trying to put off the inevitable was useless, but he could at least rest until that moment.

That did help, a little. He didn't pay any attention to how long it took her to come back, but in the interim he managed to doze off for a few minutes, and when he was roused from his light sleep by heavy, furious footsteps, he felt just good enough that maybe he could deal with whatever came next.

The door opened with a crack as it slammed against the wall, and Duke turned and sat up on the edge of the bed. Belle stood before him, her dirty clothes bundled under her arm, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You're back," she said quietly.

"Yes," he responded.

"Please tell me you have something resembling good news for me."

"Ah... not as such, no."

"Well," she said, "at least we're even." She held up the wad of dirty fabric and hurled it toward his face. Duke managed to catch it, but only just, and was immediately hit with a distinctly rancid stench.

"M-milady," he started slowly. "This smells like fish."

"I know it smells like fish," she growled. "Do you know what happened to me today, Duke? I got eaten by a fish."

He stared at her. "You– what?"

"A fish. Ate me." She strode into the room and slammed the door shut behind her.

"That's– how did–" He paused. "What kind of fish?"

"Does it matter what kind of fish!" she snapped. "I have had a very bad day, Duke. I was not concerned by the type of fish."

"You can't blame me for being curious," he said. "That's not really a sentence I expected to hear." He tossed the clothes into the corner and hoped that whatever suffused them with that scent hadn't rubbed off on him too badly. "What happened?"

"The princess happened," Belle said. "We got into a fight, she broke the Hexagon, pissed off the locals, and got us attacked by a giant floating fish. I had to cut my way out of the fish, Duke. I gutted a fish from the inside." She slammed her fist on the night-desk. "And she went and stole whatever the hell we were looking for and left me out there to rot."

Duke ran through the chain of events. "How did you leave, if she broke the Hexagon?"

"Cracked the chassis," Belle said. "The drive core's still okay, but she shouldn't be out and about until that's at least patched up." She was quiet for a few seconds. "Point is there was a lot of crap today and I ain't exactly thrilled." She looked at Duke. "So what's your excuse?"

"It's... hard to explain."

"Try me."

He did. He told her about his near-success, and the girl who had intruded; how the cathedral locked them in and they were attacked by monsters; how the girl had been kidnapped and he incapacitated; that he and Rue had worked their way through the bloodstained rooms, rescued the girl, and been attacked by... he wasn't sure how to describe the thing, but he sprinkled his recitation with some exuberant flailing and got enough of the point across.

When he finished, Belle took a couple of seconds to process before she said, "So, what, you just left everything with him?"

And here it was.

"I had to," Duke said. "I couldn't fight him anymore. 'Sides, if I did, that girl might've gotten involved again."

"Yes, she sounds like a real terror in the field of combat."

"You know what I mean," Duke said. "She didn't do anything, milady, I wasn't gonna risk that. She had a bad day, too."

Minor misstep, to mention that, but it was apparent that Belle had already figured his given excuse wasn't exactly the real reason he had left behind the items. By her expression – narrow eyes, drawn features, a little vein near her right eye twitching slightly – it was clear she knew there was more to it than that.

"You," she said slowly, "are a dumbass."

"Milady–"

"No," she said, cutting him off immediately. "Let me remind you of our situation, Duke. We are in debt up to our eyeballs. We haven't been thrown out of this hotel because the manager's too nice for his own good. I have people back home who may or may not have laid claim to my internal organs as collateral. This isn't including the fact that we still need to eat, and this isn't including the fact that we need to pay for the repairs to the Hexagon. If we don't come back with better treasure than a damned tiara, we're dead."

"That's not entirely my fault," Duke said. "The inn would be cheaper–"

"I am not staying at some rinky-dink little bed-and-breakfast," she said. "I come from better blood than that."

"–and, begging your pardon," Duke continued, "but you failed, too."

Belle curled her hand into a fist. "I know that," she growled.

And no further violence. No throwing things, no displays of magic. She must have been more tired than he had thought.

"Do we know what they're doing?" Duke asked.

Belle looked at him. "Collecting treasure," she said. And then she blinked. "Wait, no, that's not right. Mint's a greedy little blighter, but all she wanted was those earrings." She looked at Duke curiously. "Are you suggesting there's something else going on?"

He shrugged. "Dunno," he said, "but they're scrounging up some weird treasure if they're just treasure hunting."

"Hmm." Belle drummed her fingers on the night-stand. "I wonder..."

"Do you have an idea?"

"Working on it," she said. "But maybe..." A smile crept across her face. "We'll keep an eye on them. I might have a theory, and if I'm right, these shenanigans are going to pay off in spades."

Duke's heart lifted. "What are you thinking?"

"Wait until I'm sure," she said. "No sense getting our hopes up." She looked over to him. "I'm getting something to eat, and then I'm going to bed. I'd suggest you do the same."

"Are you planning something?"

"They've been making a move every day since they got here, right? I doubt tomorrow will be any different."

Duke stood up and headed for the closet. He shifted open the door and reached inside. "I'd better get ready, then."

"Ready?" She cocked an eyebrow. "Ready for what the hell am I looking at?"

Duke grinned. "My secret weapon."

. .

"Where is he?"

She sat in the far corner of the bar, away from the main body of patrons, one hand idly swishing the remains of her drink; melting ice, fruit dregs, errant seeds. The other remained in the pocket of her cloak, coiled around a large gray marble, still cold to the touch.

The bar was laughing again, the stories were circulating. Rod had fielded another appearance that night, and was paying for his food and drink in stories again. This batch was fresh, though; he had been privy to some interesting exploits that day, and was reciting what he knew – mostly what he had overheard – to the rest of the bar. She knew she should have been paying more attention to it; he name-dropped Mint as the primary actor of the night's tale, and she had been specifically instructed to listen for more information about that.

She was having some trouble concentrating, though. She had been expecting a transmission, an indication of a meeting, since earlier that afternoon, but now it was almost nightfall and still nothing. She knew she had to keep track of what was going on in town, but she was rapidly becoming equal parts concerned and frustrated and couldn't quite latch on to what the man was saying. She supposed it wasn't particularly important, though; the story would doubtless stir in the town for a while, she would hear it – thirdhand, probably, but still hear it – from another source later on. Hearing it from Rod wasn't nearly as useful as hearing it from Mint would have been, anyway.

She wondered briefly where Mint actually was.

"Do you want another?" the waitress asked.

The woman looked up briefly, then shook her head. "No thank you," she said. "I'm fine."

"I'll get that out of your way, then."

"Thank you."

The girl picked up the cup and whisked it off to the kitchen. The woman sighed and tightened her grip on the marble.

Heat abruptly suffused her hand. She palmed the marble and turned it over in her hand, making sure the sensation wasn't her imagination. It wasn't; the marble's pearlescent surface was glowing slightly, its faint reflective patterns shifting. Finally.

She stood up and put down a few coins to cover the cost of the drink, then left the bar and stepped out into the cool evening air. The sun was well beyond the wall by now, the alley cloaked in shadow, but the sky above still burned gold, and it cast enough light for her to easily see by.

Although she knew the path. She was more familiar with the town than she wanted to be.

She moved straight down the alley, past the curio shop and toward the pump equipment. It was fairly quiet – a combination of mechanical rigor and magical enhancement, and part of that magic helped keep the protests of the machinery at bay – but there was enough of a hum that any conversation, kept properly discrete, would be difficult to understand behind it.

She walked behind the pumping equipment and into the maintenance hollow behind it, and as soon as she stepped into the darkening shadows she placed her hands on her hips. "You're late."

He was difficult to see in the darkness, leaning into the shadow of the wall as he was, but she was familiar with him, too; a man of average height and thin but muscular build, wearing a dark shirt and pants in stark contrast to his goldenrod jacket. As far as his attire went, he was quite well put-together, although he insisted on ruining the image by dying his hair bright red and styling it up into heavy spikes.

He looked up at the sound of her voice and gave her a sharp smile. "Petite n' blond. Going for the pixie look today?" He laughed. "Not my preference, but I'll take it."

"Well, I'm glad you approve," she said airily. "Where have you been? I was expecting you hours ago."

He shrugged irritably. "Time zones," he said. "I'm all outta whack." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I miss anything?"

She looked over her shoulder, in the direction of the bar. "Not tonight," she said. "I was hoping she would come back and regale us with tales of derring-do. Alas."

"Shame. I was lookin' forward to meeting her personally."

"You'll have your chance, I'm sure." Her expression hardened. "How do you mean, meeting?"

"You know what I mean," he said. "I been hearing a lot about the lost brat of East Heaven." He snorted. "Her sister doesn't impress me. I wanna know if the other one's actually worth something."

"I'm sure miss Maya is worthwhile," she said. She raised her head and closed her eyes, and flawlessly affected a smooth, posh voice. "Diplomacy, my dear boy, is a vital skill."

"Only when you can't punch the other guy's face in."

She couldn't help but laugh in response, and her voice slipped back to its natural timber, smooth and low. "Then rest assured that the older one is far more worth your time." The humor evaporated. "Or would be. But that's not why we're here."

"Not yet," he clarified. "And that doesn't mean I can't have a little fun."

"Just temper yourself. You have a tendency to be... overzealous."

He waved away her words. "Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "So what's the word?"

"From what I gather," she said, "they've found Elroy's experiment."

"No shit?" he asked, legitimately intrigued. "That's big."

"Unfortunately, all I've heard from there is rumor. They're... taking action. She and her allies, they're cutting a fine swath across the archipelago, and it sounds like they're making impressive progress. Although they're not quite ready."

"And you don't know how not-quite-ready they are."

"No," she said, and smiled. "But it can't be much longer. And of course you'll be ready to move when they do?"

He smiled. "You know me," he said. "When I'm ready for them, I won't need to make a move."