Warning: This is a lot darker than usual. I don't know if I pulled it off, though.
The Month of Relaxing (June) Age 10
Week 1
I think Mom's getting really fond of Charlie. I pick him up almost everyday after training. Sometimes I don't even have to; he's already there, having learnt the way after a few trips. That kid has a good memory. He has some cool stories to tell, too—rich kids are way more mischievous than I realized, and he said that there were a few people in Ebony's gang who were all right as long as their leader wasn't with them. But the best thing about having him in my house was because he asked interesting questions.
Some of these questions I've already thought of, but I never really worked up the courage to ask them. I was always too scared that Mom would freak out or something. But Charlie didn't know anything about that, and because he was a guest, she nearly always answered. He questioned her about things like, "What happens if you get caught in jail for a long time?" or "How in Neopia did you get that pink paint off of Hanso?"
The most fascinating question that he asked, I think, was: "How did you ever agree to let Hanso have a guard as a friend?"
I always thought the answer to this was 'Because Kanrik told her so.' Instead, she said, "Well, that's an interesting question. A lot of things, actually—we respect different types of people, for one, and we hoped he'd do the same. You're not your job or your position, after all." She smiled. "And for another, Peter, my husband, already had a guard friend himself. You wouldn't believe how much it helped him."
"What?" I said, sitting up. "Who?"
She frowned. "She was to him like Marie is to me. I was never really close to her – maybe just a few quick meetings – but I know she was an overall good person, and important to the Guard. Some sort of reformer too, I think."
"Yeah," I said impatiently, "But who?"
She shrugged. "Um, Winter Leaves? Autumn Roots?"
A chill crawled up my spine. "Summer Vines?" I said tentatively.
She snapped her fingers. "That's her." She blinked. "Wait. How did you know about that? She died before you even turned seven." Charlie and I glanced at each other—I've already told him that story a few weeks before.
"I saw her around," I said simply.
"So," said Charlie, knowing exactly what I wanted, "What did you know about her?"
"Yeah. How come Kanrik let Dad be friends with her without any problems? I had to wait like a whole year before I was officially allowed to be friends with Brynn," I grumbled.
"It was the Guild's first few years when he began speaking with her. Kanrik was very, very busy – he couldn't keep track of all the thieves at once, and he knew that Peter was reliable. Besides, I think he assumed Peter was simply flirting with her." Mom rolled her eyes. "It was a fairly common thing with him those days; before I snapped him out of it."
"But he wasn't flirting with her," said Charlie. "Right?"
"He wasn't," she confirmed. "But he had gotten fond of…annoying her. She was one of the more uptight guards, the ones that did not want anything to do with thieves. Peter often emphasized that the first few years he'd known her, her morality was completely black and white."
"Sounds like someone I know," I commented. Though I guess she wasn't as strict about that anymore. "Then what?" I pressed.
"It was a push-and-pull kind of friendship. Slowly, I think they eventually learned to trust each other in a few ways. Even helped one another, sometimes. But only Peter always admitted that they were friends—Summer didn't acknowledge that. Even though she'd finally seen a little bit of grey, she was still…somewhat color blind."
"And?"
She opened her mouth and closed it. I could've sworn I heard her mutter, "No, it's not for me to tell this time." Out loud, she said, "And nothing. At one point they became friends."
"Just like that?" said Charlie suspiciously. Mom had a guilty look on her face.
"Well, maybe it wasn't quite that simple. But…let's put it this way. Summer did something wrong, and Peter helped her out of it. They became friends. It was during the last years of her life, though," she added sadly. "She got sent away to some mission on Krawk Island. There was some sort of massacre there, which the Thieves' Guild was definitely not a part of, although guards still suspect us. They lost a lot of good members that day—including Marie's husband."
"Whoa," I said, shocked. I never paid that much attention to how Summer died. And she knew my dad! I can't believe it. I have to ask him about this when he gets home—that is, if he isn't too sad about it. Maybe I'll get Charlie to come and help. He's pretty handy wheedling answers out of people.
You know, I guess Dad has mentioned Summer, though not by name. In fact, it was one of the last things he said to me before he went away.
She went on a mission overseas, too. She never came back.
Week 2
I came to pick Charlie up like usual—though this time planning to stop by Brynn's house afterwards. Timmy has been begging and begging for Teddy back, and I could only take so much. I also thought Charlie might want to see Brynn's mom again, since she did offer him a home after the fire. But the moment I set foot into the rich kid's neighborhood, he jumped at me on the gate. "Whoa!" I said, stumbling back. "What's going-"
"Don't go in," Charlie said urgently. "I can sneak out for a bit, but not for long, and especially not if my family catches you here."
"Your family? What gives? I thought it was Hazel's I should be worried about."
"Usually, that's true," said Charlie, pulling me away from the borough. "But we have guests, and Mother has instructed Mr. Daley to monitor a tight security. Anyone who has the slightest traits of a tramp shall promptly get kicked out." He shook her head, and I noticed that he was wearing clothes ever fancier than usual. "I waited for you at the gate so you wouldn't come in, though I doubt that Mr. Daley would actually do such a thing."
"So who's visiting?" I asked, curious.
"Relatives, old friends of my father's from Meridell, that sort of thing," said Charlie dryly. His face darkened. "And my grandmother."
I frowned. "What's so bad about a little old granny?"
"Hanso, are you joking? You wouldn't believe how hard it is to please her! Last time she came, two maids quit and one was completely traumatized for a month. Some of our servants are already considering doing the same, or at least taking their time off. And, I might have mentioned, it's she who I get sent away to if it becomes apparent that I would fail at the Tradition."
"I still don't get that part," I said, wandering into the marketplace. "I mean, if you don't succeed, you don't succeed, right?"
"Nope," said Charlie, looking at a few stalls wonderingly. "If they pass the Tradition date – that's the day after the birthday of the deadline year-"
"Huh?"
"For example, my deadline is twenty-one. The absolute deadline would be the day I turn twenty-two—it would still be honored then. But if I become twenty-two-and-one-day, I'm completely cast out. I'd never be welcome in the neighborhood again; I'd have to stay from all my family and friends; I'd get sent to a-a community overseas, doomed to hard labor forever, and branded as a former rich kid. You'd be better off just running away—that symbol means that you're officially disgraced."
"A way to ensure they would tie the knot is to send rich kids away to a respectable establishment. Boys, like me, either join the guards if they're desperate enough to escape or get sent to a relative. A very, very strict relative. Girls who are near their, ah, expiration date get sent to Madame Belldame's Academy for Proper Young Ladies." He said it with a mocking tone in his voice. "Afterwards they're mostly all meek and obedient. It disgusts me."
"Mostly?" I said.
He shrugged. "There were rumors of a few exceptions. There was a rather interesting one you might want to know…"
"Who?" I asked.
"Hazel's mother," he replied, grinning slightly. "Rumor has it that the academy didn't seem to have fazed her at all."
"Yeah, but doesn't that mean that she was rebellious before?" I said.
He nodded. "Strange, since she isn't a bit like that now. Anyway, Hazel and I read it in a cut-out Neopian Times story we found in some of my law books."
"I didn't know you were interested in law." I gasped playfully. "You aren't thinking of…turning in to a goody-two-shoes, are you? Arresting your poor old friend? Oh, please, judge, I'm innocent! I'm innocent!"
"Really, Hanso!" he said, laughing. "My law books are from my house. But Hazel, Violet and I don't call them law books. We call them the cheat sheets." When he saw my confused expression, he continued, "None of us really know who, but somebody had scribbled on the margins about how to break the rules of nobility…without really breaking them."
"Like?" I questioned.
He shrugged. "One rule is that you cannot walk while you're in your best suit. That's for funerals and weddings, mind you, so have to get carried by servants. Thank Fyora no one close to my parents has gotten married or died—I would've been outright humiliated if I ever had to be carried by someone."
"Yeah," I agreed. "Sounds for an interesting April Fool's prank."
"You wouldn't dare," he said, backing away. I just grinned. "Anyway, the rule said you cannot walk. But that doesn't mean you can't run, skip, ride a bike, play in the mud, or do things that not walking was supposed to prevent." He smirked. "One rule said that you must bow or curtsy to people higher than your rank. A duke of somewhere-or-another came to town one day, and I had great fun curtsying to him and not getting into any trouble, though needless to say, it frustrated my mother to quite a degree. There's a loophole for everything in there!" His smile faded. "Everything but-"
"The Tradition," I finished.
"And the custom that you have to design your new house exactly as your old one," he joked. Then he sighed. "Even whoever made up those loopholes couldn't think of a way to escape the Tradition. The brilliant royal family was just too specific about it. Breeding blue blood is very important to them." He shook his head. "But the cheats did help. When I lent it to Hazel, it helped Violet think outside the box. So when she came across the section about the Tradition which didn't have any notes on it at all, she found a certain sentence that said that 'Nobility wishing to serve the kingdom by bearing arms may do so with every bit of respectability, and are exempted from the Tradition.'"
"And she realized it didn't have to apply to only boys," I said. "It could apply to girls as well. So she did it." My voice admitted a bit of grudging admiration for her. This was actually kind of interesting—who knew that rich kids had to do so much? I was about to ask a few more questions when-
"Thief! Thief!" someone shrieked. I blinked and turned around. An old Yurble lady was pointing at me with her walking stick. My mouth dropped open. I haven't stolen anything from her!
Well, this time. I could've stolen from her before.
But I wasn't worried. It was week two, wasn't it? Brynn was the one patrolling, and Violet owes me a favor anyway. Then a huge, beefy hand – certainly neither of the two girl guards – grabbed me. The old lady trotted away. That was weird. I mean, what kind of lady does that? Was I imagining evil grandmothers because of what Charlie said?
"Officer, I swear he was with me the whole time-" Charlie began, and then paused.
"Why hello, dear cousin," Harry said in a mocking tone.
"Third cousins twice removed!" Charlie reminded him scathingly. "You can't arrest Hanso; he didn't do anything!"
"Actually, he's a rather well-known thief in these parts," he said calmly. "Now I suggest you go, Charles. Or I'll be taking you both, and then your lovely mother and grandmother will get so disappointed."
"They'll believe me-"
"No, they won't." Harry smirked. "You know they like me better. I represent the perfect grandson—three-times removed nephew—whatever, when I joined the guards. You're just useless." Charlie looked down, and I realized that it was really killing him.
"Hey," I snapped, "That's only because I fire nearly killed him."
"What a pity," Harry said mockingly. "Ebony, wasn't it? Great guy…his sister was the prettiest girl in the Guard…he was the one who suggested I included her in my little gang."
I stared at him. "That was Ebony? You liked her because Ebony put you up to it?"
"Duh. And the fact that she was such a cute little pet."
Charlie snorted. "You can call Miss Firecracker anything you want, but she is not a pet."
"Firecracker, huh? That suits her. Maybe I'll use it sometime," Harry said. "But off you go, little cousin three times removed or something over the other. I've got to take this thief to jail."
"But he hasn't done anything-"
"Reason won't work," I interrupted Charlie. "You should go back, or maybe wait for me in my mom's house."
"I'm not helpless, you know," he grumbled.
"Of course you aren't," Harry said sarcastically. "I mean, you don't have a housekeeper who does everything for you, you can't walk one mile before killing yourself, and you're certainly not relying on thieves for security—what would your mother say?"
"Shut up," Charlie snapped.
"Ooh, I'm scared."
"Charlie," I pleaded, "You should go." He opened his mouth to protest. "He could use you against me. It's better if I do it alone." Charlie sighed disgustedly and went back to the direction of his house.
"Good. Now I can beat the crap out of you in peace," said Harry contentedly.
"What makes you say that?" I said, buying for time. He just laughed, knowing that by holding my arms my dagger was out of reach.
"One," he said happily, "I have the bigger weapon. Two, your little rich kid pals aren't here to save you. Three, Sam isn't here to save you. Four-"
"Shut up," I imitated Charlie.
"Getting a little defensive, are we?" He laughed.
Before I could snarl something back, a voice said, "Harry, what are you even doing out? Week two is our patrol week!" Needless to say, it was Brynn. He groaned.
"I could see this guy out my dorm window," he explained, giving me a little shake. "And I knew he was up to no good."
"Put him down," Brynn said.
"You're just gonna help him escape! You're his accomplice, and you're gonna let him go just because he's your boss!"
"Harry!" she snapped. Then her face changed, and a sly smile spread across her face. "I caught him stealing from a stall a few minutes ago," she lied.
My jaw dropped. "Brynn, I didn't-"
"I would like to torture the reason why this was out of him," she continued. Okay, now she was really, really lying. "And then I will lock him in a Master Thief cell because Hanso is truly a most dangerous criminal." Violet smirked.
Luckily, Harry is extra stupid. Whatever Brynn's plan was, it worked, and he left us alone. But not before he said, "I'll be waiting outside the dungeons. You'd better take him there."
Brynn released me. "What did you say that for?" I burst out. "Now I'm going to go to jail and I didn't even do anything!"
Unbelievably, she gave me Timmy's teddy. Just the thing I was about to get. "Right," she said, satisfied. "Now that's taken care of, I'm taking you to prison."
"Brynn! You can't take me to prison because you wanted to give me Timmy's teddy! Anyway, for once I wasn't even planning on doing anything illegal. I was going to see your-I mean," I quickly backtracked, "This lady who I know who fixes teddies and…"
"You took the teddies to my mum," she said dryly. She rolled her eyes, like saying, Who do you think you're dealing with? "I noticed."
She began dragging me to the dungeons with her friend Violet skipping alongside. I put up with it until I saw the Guard's base, when it fully hit me that she was actually going to do it. Then I refused point blank, and started forcing her to let go. Brynn tried to pull forwards. Then she blinked, like an idea hit her. She let go.
"Ha ha, very funny," I grumbled.
"Hanso, stand up," she ordered.
"No," I snapped. "You're taking me to prison for no reason; I'm staying here."
"Hanso, I know you didn't do anything," she assured me. "But if I don't take you to the dungeons, think of what Harry will do, to me and you whenever he sees you next." I frowned, like trying to size everything up and guess what she was planning.
"What are you doing, creep?" Violet shrieked. "I don't think you can read Brynn's mind or anything fancy."
"You were so much nicer when you were trying to save Hazel," I said angrily. She turned her back on me.
"Harry's not so good with which cell is which," Brynn explained. "I can put you in one of the normal ones and he'd believe me if I said it was the Master Thief one."
"Are you sure?" I asked doubtfully.
She smiled. "Knowing you, even a Master Thief cell wouldn't hold you for long."
"Especially if we leave you with a lock pick, some rope, and…some other escape thingy," Violet added.
"Wait—are you helping me?" I asked, confused.
"You know how it goes," Violet said. "Good deeds need to be repaid and all that. You let me know where Hazel was and you helped me save her." For a moment she looked right into my eyes, and I realized how much that meant to her. "That's a pretty good deed." Then she blinked. "This doesn't mean I like you, because I don't!"
I nearly laughed and allowed Brynn to lead me to the dungeons. Harry was there, of course. "You're such a traitor, Brynn," he told her. "You betray us to your boss, but then betray your boss to us. This tells us an important fact: Never trust girls."
Violet scowled and pulled me to a cell. I recognized it as the easiest one to break out of—the one with least security. "Here it is!" she lied happily. "The Master Security cell." She winked.
Brynn unlocked the door, and I went inside without a doubt. I guess you could say I trusted them completely now. Why shouldn't I? They helped me get rid of Masila. Brynn subtly passed me the key when Harry wasn't looking. "I'm fairly sure you aren't allowed to do this," I whispered.
Violet agreed softly. "I'm fairly sure we aren't as well. You better not make me regret this, thief."
"Good luck," Brynn said, turning around before she left.
"Bye, Brynn. Thanks for giving me Timmy's teddy, by the way." I made Teddy's arm wave to her.
She grinned. "Oh, and don't escape."
Needless to say, I leisurely left the cell within the hour. After giving Timmy his Teddy back ("Tweddy! Wou're okway!") I was home free.
Week 3
I can't stop shaking, but I have to write this.
Masila's officially back. Today, while we were learning about the different branches of the Thieves' Guild, Kanrik knocked on the door and entered. I think just about the whole class's jaws dropped. I don't think he's visited the classroom since he was seven. Anyway, he said in his most guild-leader-ish voice, "Can you excuse Hanso?"
"I didn't do anything!" I said, with my hands up. Kayley just shook her head at me.
Jacques coughed nervously. "Sure, Master Kanrik, but what do you need him for?"
For a moment it almost seemed that he was going to snap at the former pirate, but restrained himself. "Masila's in the forest," he said in a monotone voice. "I have need of his…special talents."
"What? But sir, he's just ten years old-"
"Hannah isn't here; she came last week. I'm pretty sure the Mistress of Double-cross timed it that way," he grumbled. "To get to the point, there's no one else I know who can help. Besides, he has already faced her before. I believe he can handle himself." It was nice to know he didn't doubt me, but Master Jacques had a point. I am ten years old. No matter what talents I have, I doubt he'd allow me to walk into danger that lightly.
But I got up. "See you guys later," I said. I smiled cheekily. "And if I end up like a pile of Shish-kebab-"
"Oh, don't say that!" Juliet said, glaring at me. After a few moments, her face turned into a grin again. She can never frown for long. "Be careful." She elbowed Julius, and he mumbled something about 'staying safe.' Razor gave me a thumbs-up sign, but Kayley just looked at me in a way that said, If you die, I will kill you. I think she was the most reassuring.
Once we stepped into the hall, Kanrik said, "You do realize what this means, do you?"
My mind went black for a moment. Then I realized something. I grinned. "Masila's not in Terror Mountain, so my dad can come back."
He looked away. "I hope."
"Wait." I paused in the middle of the hallway. "What do you mean, 'I hope?' He's coming back, right?"
"Hanso!' A voice cried out. I turned around and saw it was my mom. Her tear-stained face told me all I needed to know.
"He's dead, isn't he?" I said in a choked voice.
"It's not confirmed," Kanrik said, grabbing me and forcing me to face him.
"What do you mean?" I snapped.
"We just got a message from the team we sent to Terror Mountain," he said. "He said that there was some sort of massacre, and a lot of people went killed or missing. He sent a report, and your father was one of the 'missing.' He could have-" He paused at my unbelieving face. What did he expect? That I would listen to him rationally? "He could have survived. I should know that are plenty of ways he could've escaped. Don't count him out."
"Yeah, sure," I said sarcastically. "What, he dropped from a cliff into the freezing cold sea, and then scaled up back to land and hid in a cave? You survived because you've been living there your whole life." I looked at him. "Are we really meeting Masia? Is she really in the forest?"
He hesitated. "Yes, but that was just a cover story for you. You can go home-"
"No!" I yelled. "She killed my dad! I'm not just going to stay at home when she could kill so many others too-"
"We can't risk you exploding like that, Hanso."
"I'm not-" I took a few deep breaths. "I won't explode. You're going to need a truth-speaker."
"I've attended plenty of meetings without one. I'd rather not risk it. You should go-"
"No way," I said stubbornly. "Either you let me go with you, or I follow myself."
"You're being ridiculous!" he said angrily. "Fine. Come with me. But Lizzie, you're going home." Mom stared at him. "You're one of the best thieves we have, but you know that the risk is bigger for you than even Hanso."
"Not you too!" she groaned.
"Yes, me too," he growled at her. "Listen, you know that I took a big risk for you a long time ago. Everything nearly fell apart—I nearly got kicked out of my own Guild. The only one who managed to turn the whole thing around was Peter, and he isn't here." She cringed. "I cannot risk the Guild turning on me. The chance is a lot greater with Masila's voice. You have to go…for Hanso's sake, at least."
She sighed. "All right. But you're sending him back to me as soon as possible."
"Agreed," Kanrik confirmed. She practically ran away. "I should let someone go check on her."
"How about Marie?" I suggested with a bitter tone. "After all, her husband got killed too-"
"Stop it. Do you want to go with your mother?" I didn't answer. "If you want to go, be quiet and control yourself. Now come." I followed him to the exit- and nearly got bumped by Marie. "Can you-"
"Check on Liz? Of course," Marie said breathlessly. "I just have something to tell you. It's possible that Masila has another spy on the loose. Not in the Guild," she added. "But someone who has always favored her. And she has other…considerable talents."
"Give me a full report later," Kanrik said. "Anything else?" Marie hesitated for the briefest second, and then shook her head. I knew she was lying. "For now, the most important thing is to comfort Lizzie." Marie nodded and dashed away. Kanrik and I made our way to the thicket. I hated the place. To think that only a few weeks ago, we had celebrated our victory there. I walked faster.
And there she was, her arms crossed. She was looking as evil-pretty as ever, her hood pulled over her hair and her eyes switching colors at whatever she was looking at. They turned into a deep blue when she saw us. She frowned, but before she could open her mouth, I snapped, "Couldn't stay in jail, could you?"
She raised her eyebrows. "Of course I couldn't, darling. But that's an uncharacteristic thing for you to say."
"Masila," Kanrik snapped, "We're here to discuss the Thieves' Guild, not-"
"Oh, it's always in a rush with you, is it?" She shook her head. "I would think that as he was the one who saved you last time, you'd spare a minute for his thoughts. Now what happened to-"
"You killed my dad!" I blurted out.
She hardly blinked. "And when was this?"
"Today!" Even I was aware of how idiotic that sounded.
"I see," she said. "Did you know it takes at least one week to get from Terror Mountain to here? At the most, it's three. I couldn't have done it, sweetheart. I've been here the entire time." Kanrik flashed me a warning glare, but I needed someone to blame. "Also," she said when she saw my face, "I received no reports from my assassins in those parts, though if you sent a team there…you're getting the right idea. Anyway, I neither held the dagger nor gave the order. The most I can get accused of is simply positioning them there, in which case is your thieves' fault for not being careful enough."
I glowered at her. She was right—she didn't do anything this time. "But it isn't above you, is it, killing fathers?" I said bitterly.
"Depends," she said sweetly. "But Kanrik is right; we better get on to business. I rather didn't like how you threw me in prison, with the help of your guard friends no less. But no matter; I escaped, as always."
"We'll throw you back there again," I said.
"And I'll escape again," she replied. "It'll be some sort of endless cycle, I think? You throw me in jail. I escape. You throw me in jail. I escape. The irony is that it sounds like you guys are the guards. Anyway, I'll keep on escaping and hatching plans until I do win; and all you can do is just try to throw me back in jail. One of us is too, ah, noble to kill me." She smirked.
"Not anymore," Kanrik snapped. "If someone could kill you right now-"
"Oh, good, you're finally seeing sense."
"I'm only allowing people to kill you as an exception."
"Then I'm special!" she said, smiling evilly. "I honestly doubt any of you have the talent to kill me anymore. And you, well, you'd never have the guts. Skill, perhaps, but you wouldn't be able to do pull through with it. So here's your choice. You can either surrender now, or I keep doing damage until I've worn you down. Either way, I still win."
"You haven't got the force," Kanrik said.
"But I have the wits. You should know that, darling. I've changed the opinion of the whole Thieves' Guild twice. Once to support you," at this, her face turned disgusted, "And the next to support Vlade. Unfortunately, the latter wasn't able to keep it. I think there was some sort of trouble when he began breaking their limbs."
"There's a third option," he said. "You wouldn't have come here unless you were offering one."
"Right," she said. "I do know that I will win. But that might take time. Years, even. Hanso and his little class have proven themselves more resourceful than I thought; rest assured, I will not be underestimating them again. So I'm giving you an option on trying to fight back, and giving me a quick route to victory."
"Never," I seethed.
"Hanso," Kanrik snapped, "If you can't control yourself, go home. We have to look at every option we have. What is it, Masila?"
"A duel," she said carelessly. He stiffened. "Surely you know all the rules by now? It doesn't have to be a big deal; I'll just say, 'I challenge you in the name of Vlade to the right to rule the Guild,' and you accept, and we fight a duel to the death. Just like you did with Galem. In fact, maybe you should settle this right now, without any eyes watching you—you wouldn't want to be publicly humiliated now, would you?"
He rolled his eyes. "You, kill me? You have as much strength to do that as I do. You wouldn't."
"Well," she said, her voice hinting a little anger now, "I guess we'll just have to see, won't we?"
"No!" Marie shrieked, coming from nowhere.
"Oh, little sister, there you are," Masila said happily. "It's been a long time since we were all together."
"You can't do it," Marie snapped at her. "This trick won't work."
"What? Aren't you supposed to be with Liz?" Kanrik said, frowning at her.
"She came to me a few days ago, asking for a certain necklace," Marie explained. "She said it's rightfully hers."
"And it is," Masila pointed out. "You took it unfairly—we promised we'd never let other people interfere in our little contest. If you haven't noticed, I've honored that promise."
"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Marie said.
"So it does," Masila acknowledged. "That's why, when you refused, I sent assassins to your house to scour the place." She shook her head exasperatedly. "They didn't find anything. You were always a little too good at hide and seek. Anyway, I'm running a different thing now, dear sister. Though of course you could always give me the necklace by yourself…?"
"No."
"I thought not."
"Even if you do win, Masila, none of the thieves are going to stand for being ruled by you-"
"I thought we'd gone over this," Masila complained. "I don't want to rule the Guild myself! It gives me too much of a headache. I'm only interested in killing Kanrik. Vlade'll do it. We are allowed other people to represent us, you know, just in case you're too scared to face me yourself. I'll handle the Guild's opinion when I win." Marie looked at her suspiciously, like something wasn't quite right.
"Kanrik, you can't fall for this!" she told him. "Let someone else-"
"Nobody else can do it!" Kanrik snapped at her. "I don't want anyone to die for me, thank you very much, and she's too good with the dagger."
"Oh, I'm touched," said Masila dryly.
"Don't you care anything about Sam?" Marie asked her. "He could get hurt out of this."
For one moment, Masila's smile vanished. This is going to sound weird, but I heard some sort of voice. I'm not sure where it came from, but there was this sudden chill. And then I heard it. It was…scary, like the wind of the Haunted Woods when it sounds like it's whispering to you. But I couldn't make anything out.
Masila didn't show any sign that she heard, except her touching her head like she had a headache. Marie and Kanrik hadn't have seemed to have heard at all. I didn't say anything—the chill was gone as quick as it had come. But I had a very, very bad feeling about it.
Masila straightened up. "You don't have to tell me who I'm competing against now," she said, standing. "I'll give you a few weeks."
"A few weeks for us to torture ourselves with this decision," Kanrik muttered.
"You are seeing sense!" said Masila, smirking.
"Well, it's not like you wouldn't get our decision ahead of time," I said. "Thanks to your spy."
"You mean Sasha?" Masila asked. "No worries about her. She has long forgotten the entrance of the Thieves' Guild – a clever enchantment on your part, I must admit – and she has gone to resume her life elsewhere. My best guess would be that rich kid neighborhood—Uptown, it's called, right?"
"I meant your other spy."
She blinked. "I don't have another spy," she said honestly. "I wouldn't want what happened to you occur again."
"Oh, really?"
She rolled her eyes. "As hard as this for you to believe, Hanso, I like kids."
"Didn't stop you from poisoning me."
"But it did stop me from going through with it. You don't know how valuable that vial was…and not just in the money-sense," she added. "I gave up a lot to get it."
"Like what?" I said sarcastically. "Killing someone?"
She shook her head. "I'm sorry about your father," she said simply. "You better get over it, though. You're going to have to be in good shape to fight me." With that, she vanished.
Week 4
I didn't think that anything else can be worse than last week. I was wrong. I don't have that much time to write everything that happened (I'm really in a hurry) but I better try.
I was ordered to stay at home all week. Juliet actually came to see what was this all about – either Kanrik didn't say anything, or Master Jacques didn't want to tell anyone that my father died – but even I couldn't admit anything to her. "I'm feeling sick," I just said, which was completely true.
She bit her lip. "Okay," she said. "Just come back soon, okay? Class is pretty boring without you." She gave me a small smile and went away.
Mom isn't any better. Marie has been talking to her a lot, but other than that she just sleeps, eats, or sits in the kitchen table with her face buried in her hands. I've been reading Dad's one letter to us again and again. Now that I can think better, I sort of realize that Kanrik's right—maybe I shouldn't count my dad out. He might have survived. But then that could just be denial again.
I couldn't stand the idea of doing nothing, so I just began wandering around Brightvale. Then I started going to direction of the rich kid neighborhood—or Uptown, as Masila said. I guiltily realized I'd left Charlie without an update since the second week of the month, but things have been so hectic. I was extra careful to be sneaky, dashing from tree to tree like Hazel might. As nice as he is, I didn't want to get caught by Mr. Daley.
I scaled the wall to Charlie's house and crept inside. Like always, it was warm and welcoming, but something changed. Everything was more….tidy. Not to say that it wasn't tidy before, but Mrs. Daley had always put out some sort of 'neat mess': A few building blocks; a plate of cookie crumbles; a flower. Now, the curtains were heavily shut, I doubted that any form of nature would dare go live inside. I went in the kitchen, which is basically the only room I know. The rest of Charlie's house is a maze. "Mrs. Daley?" I called. No answer.
I shook my head and plunged into the house. I was not about give up now.
It only took two minutes for me to get hopelessly lost.
Everything was strangely cold; before, there was always a warm fire. I could've sworn somebody painted the mansion with a grey paintbrush. I was just about to give up when I heard the criticizing. It was in some sort of sitting room. I peeked through the door.
"Well, you've grown quite a lot, Charles," said a voice scornfully. The lady was a Wocky with graying hair. She wore a plum-colored dress and a choker (ugh!) and her lips seemed to be glued together. And another weird thing? Like Charlie's dad, every single thing that came out of her mouth seemed like a lie.
"Yes, Grandmother," Charlie said, in a monotone voice.
"A bit chubbier around the stomach, too." She huffed and turned to Mrs. Daley. "What have you been feeding him?"
Mrs. Daley raised her eyebrows and said respectfully, "The same kind of diet every boy his age has."
"Hmph. So it must be the exercise. Have you not been exercising?" the old lady interrogated, poking Charlie with her cane.
"Grandmother, I have a heart illness. I can't exert myself or-"
"You'll pop up your clogs. Yes, yes, I know about that," she said impatiently. "Still! That's no good reason for you to be lazy." I would've gotten mad at her, if it were me.
Instead, I saw Charlie trying not to laugh. "Yes, Grandmother."
"Straight back, lad!" she snapped suddenly, pointing her cane again. "You're not old yet."
"Yes, Grandmother."
"Hmph! All these 'Yes, Grandmothers'. Where's your sense of spirit and duty? Gone, I guess. William wasn't any better." Charlie's Dad turned red. "Still, I'd have hoped that you'd have inherited something from Catherine."
"Thank you," a spoiled voice said. It was Charlie's mother—Catherine, I guess. She was an Aisha with long, blond hair and lipstick stains on her mouth. Her green eyes were haughty and proud. Oddly, she was the only one who didn't have the 'everything she says is a lie' thing going on (besides Charlie and Mrs. Daley).
"Where are your playmates? Don't you have any friends?" the old lady prodded.
Charlie shrugged. "Hazel," he mumbled. "But she's, er, locked up at the moment."
"Hazel?" she said, in a dangerous voice. "You mean from the color family?" She whirled around at William. "How dare you! You did this on purpose, didn't you? You wanted that woman's spawn to become friends with him! You know she's a bad influence."
"Honey, as she now is called, has changed, Mother," William said. "She's the picture of a proper lady. So is her daughter."
"Bah. She'll always be that rebellious Trate girl to me." She turned to Charlie. "I don't want you hanging with some scrawny, bratty color girl, you hear me?"
Charlie wasn't laughing now. He glared at his grandmother. "I'm sorry, but that is something I cannot promise."
"Now, Charlies," his mother said in an angry tone. She stepped closer to Charlie.
"You've always raised me to be honest," Charlie protested. "How can I say I won't when I will?"
"Simple. You will never speak to that Hazel girl again," his mother said.
Charlie stared at her. "No!"
"Don't take that tone of voice with me, young man. Show proper respect to your elders."
"Of course, Mother, but you couldn't possibly forbid me to-"
"Charles, stop talking."
"She's my best friend-"
She slapped his mouth. My jaw dropped. My mom would never, ever slap me. I nearly choked. Unfortunately, that was the moment Charlie's eyes looked up and met mine. They widened and looked furtively at his relatives. But I was angry. Who cares if they saw me? I wanted to slap them myself!
"M-may I be excused, Mother?" Charlie asked timidly.
Catherine was about to refuse, when his grandmother said, "Oh, might as well. I want to return to my quarters anyway; I trust they are better than last time?"
"Oh, yes, Madam," Mrs. Daley said. She was a picture of serenity, but her eyes were angry. "I fixed it myself."
"Very good." The old lady trotted up the staircase.
Charlie wasted no time in dashing out and pushing me to the kitchen. "In, Hanso!" He locked the door. "How much of that did you hear?"
"Enough," I said. "You can't let them treat you like that! They're almost worse than Hazel's parents! And…your Dad just stood there."
"Never mind about that," he said hurriedly. "I'm used to it, all right? And I have Mrs. Daley. I'm fine."
"No, you're not," I said. "Come on! This is child abuse! Please say that with the hundreds of rules you rich kids have, there's at least one that prevents that?"
He shook his head sadly. "What happened to you last week?" he asked, trying to change the subject.
I looked down. "My dad's missing. I don't know if he's alive, or…"
"You're lucky," he said unexpectedly.
I stared at him. "What?"
"You actually miss your dad, and he'd miss you." He shook his head. "Whatever happened, Hanso, he's in a better place."
"Let me guess," I said, smiling slightly, "One of Mrs. Daley's sayings?"
"Yep," he said.
I paused for a bit, reflecting on what he said. It was a good answer, I admit. Whether he lived or died, he'd be better off than nearly freezing to death in that stupid mountain. His letter didn't say so, but I read in between the lines. I looked at Charlie and smiled. "Do you want to come to my house now?"
He hesitated. "Are you quite sure your mother will be okay with it?"
I pictured her slumped on the kitchen table. "She needs a distraction," I told him. "And she's fond of you."
"All right," he said, looking pleased.
A few minutes later, we were outside my house. "Um, let me go ahead to make sure," I told him. He smiled and nodded. I went to the kitchen tentatively. "Mom?"
She was looking better. Her light brown hair was brushed and flowed along her shoulders like a waterfall. She was dressed up okay, too—a major improvement from the last few days. But her eyes were still bloodshot, and had a dead look in them. "Yes, Hanso?"
"I brought Charlie. Is that okay?"
"Of course it is," she said, trying to smile. "People have been bringing food all week. It'd be nice to have someone who'd actually eat asparagus." We both chuckled, and I ran to fetch Charlie. "It's okay! Come on in."
But when he did come in, Mom's face turned from sweet to horrified. "Charlie, what happened?" she said. We both realized at the same time that the mark where his mother had slapped him was still showing. "Charlie?"
"Erm, nothing," he lied. "Just an accident."
"That's no accident, sweetheart. That's a slap." She bent down, so she was staring right into Charlie's eyes. When she does that, no one can lie to her. "Who did that?"
"My-my mother," he mumbled.
"Your mother?" Mom cried. She sounded shocked. "But…but that's not possible."
"It is, Mom," I confirmed.
"And what did your father do?"
"Nothing," I told her.
She closed her eyes. "Oh, this is all wrong." She shook her head, and for a moment she seemed about to have a breakdown. But when she opened her eyes again, they had lost their dead look. They had that kind but firm determination in them. Only then did I realized how much I missed it. "This is ending now," she said, walking out the house. We were both stunned.
"Wait! Mom!" I cried as we both ran after her. "Where are you going?"
"To talk to Charlie's parents," she said calmly, going to Uptown. I was almost sure that we would be stopped in the main gate; I had to be really sneaky to avoid Mr. Daley. To my shock, no one stopped us. She just marched in. Was he taking a break…or did he let us enter on purpose?
"Please, don't," Charlie begged. "I'm sorry, but I'd be in so much trouble-"
"I can handle that," she told him. I groaned inwardly. After dealing with things on my own for the most part, I had forgotten how interfering adults could be. She went to Charlie's house straight away and walked through the front entrance. The butlers and maids just leapt aside, taken aback at the interruption.
At the time, I was so freaking shocked that I didn't wonder how she could navigate everywhere so perfectly.
She turned through a few twists and turns, always choosing the right choice. Then she opened the doors to the sitting room which I was in earlier. Mrs. Daley seemed to have gone to the kitchen, so that left Charlie's parents. Both their jaws dropped when they saw who had burst in.
Catherine was the first one who recovered. "Who in Neopia are you?" she raged. "A tramp begging for scraps? The dump is in Meridell, thank you very much. Who let you in…?" she spotted Charlie. "You stupid boy!" she shouted. "What are you playing at? I'll have you whipped if that's what needs doing-"
"You'll do no such thing," Mom said, crossing her arms. "I demand to speak to William." What? I thought. How did she know his name?
"Pfft. Why? You think he's more charitable than me? I'm sorry to tell you, my husband is a complete oaf. And what's more, he couldn't possibly know such a peasant like yourself-"
"Elizabeth?" William choked out, managing to find his voice at last. "You're….you're back."
"You know this woman? But…how…"
"I will answer as soon as you finish blabbering," Mom snapped.
"But…you…he…what…" Catherine kept doing that for a while. When she realized it wasn't getting her anywhere, she shut up.
For a few minutes, there was only complete and utter silence. All the while, Mom was glaring at William. The fire crackled. The wind whooshed. The tension was killing me.
"Hello, little brother," Mom said finally. "Long time no see."
Yes, I left this at a cliffhanger. Which will not be answered for about two weeks. Please don't eat me!
I've been dropping a few hints though out HJ, even up to his first year. I think a lot of you guys might have guessed, and I think one person got really, really close—
Kyanite Archer/Lucy (from the last review): "I would've ran away and started a new life somewhere." My reaction: :O