Tricked Out Turning Drastic (Star Keeper Series Book 2), page 3
"No probs," I said as I pulled out the brochure-style map from Red's pages. I quickly checked if we were alone in the Hall. We were. Undoubtedly Rescoven already knew that. I put the map away. "Here, which ones do you want? Probably the big ones right?" I leaned over and tried to reach the ends of my wings. They weren't cooperating.
"I will take whatever you are willing to offer," he said.
I managed to grab the top of one wing and pulled the primaries toward me. I plucked out two large ones, then one smaller feather. It twinged a bit. Gold dust fell from my wings and settled on the dark green floor as amber light coalesced in the spot of the absent feathers. Without looking over, I held out the glittering white feathers to Resco as I watched new primaries emerge and grow within a few transfixed minutes.
He must have grabbed them. Shaking my head, after a while I said, "So, about Krule…" I slowly turned my eyes back to the Keeper. He was inspecting my feathers with fastidiousness. I think he thanked me more than once but I was a tad engrossed in my weirdness.
He set the feathers down respectfully and then eyed the shimmering gold dust on the floor, his mind working on many things, not just on formulating an answer. Flicking his wrist, a small piece of paper the size of my palm shot out from a stack and landed on the table. Rescoven took up his quill and masterfully completed a single rune. Folding it in half, he placed it in his palm and lifted his hand. With an audible crack, the paper shot off and became a blur careening upward headed upstairs.
Answering my prompt, he said, "The K'Vroken was ordered to leave the city. He didn't. He also has been instructed by me to not enter the library until you are awake. He has tried to do so more than once. Though I believe the K'Vroken has intended to leave my spells intact, that has not entirely occurred."
"Were any books harmed?" I quickly asked.
"No, just parchment. But he is a nuisance, as I said. Since our last encounter at the doorway, I've demanded he only check in once a day. I conclude that he is very careful and is still actively trying to keep to a past agreement he has made with you," he said, his left ear twitching. Instantly, a book floated into the desk space—brown leather with a dark blue spine. Rescoven snatched it and quickly began writing on its first page. The ink immediately disappeared.
Watching, I asked, "So when is Krule due next?"
Closing the volume titled in a Movoken script, it read, Sloogogian Manatovic Mullska: Anatomy, Habitat, and Behavior. I'd read it before. Interesting, but an unusual interest. The creatures ate dirt and helped the decaying process on most of the K'Vroken-controlled continents. Resco placed it on the floor directly over my fallen 'angel' dust.
"Oh yeah, sorry," I said with a cringe regarding the mess. I should have been busy looking for a broom.
"Please don't apologize. My goal is not to clean it. I'm attempting something else," he replied, focusing on the floor. "And your K'Vroken is due to come by a few hours after daylight. No need to fear. If you would like, I can track him with some of my aerial parchment—"
"No, don't worry about it. Thank you though." The last thing I wanted was to come off as a bit…too eager.
The book twitched, then, suddenly popping up and open with a rapid twist, it flipped over and landed pages down on the floor. It began moving over the dust, eating it.
I laughed. "It's a slug vacuum! I love it," I said captivated.
Keeper Rescoven scowled. "It was not supposed to do that." He waved his hand indicating the slow rise and drop of the now slurping book. "I wrote instructions that were far more dignified for the collection of your excess material."
"Slug here can eat my glittery dandruff however he pleases. He's perfect." I leaned down to pet the book, but he stilled as if he had gone inert. "Okay, okay. You're a bit timid. I'll leave you alone, but just so you know, you're awesome."
"You are doing it again," Resco remarked.
"Yeah, yeah," I said. I wasn't going to change.
Rescoven's lip lifted in his way, but then he turned around once more. "What will you have me do with the drongo? I have studied this particular beast and I realize that he is a rare mutation of a stud. Quirks in his—what do you humans call it? Oh yes, his DNA, I suppose. Either way, my retained servant cannot bring it back to the farmer. Not unless you want to butcher him."
"No, don't do that. Sucks that he hates me, though. It'd be fun to have him around. And who is your servant? I need to meet him," I said fiddling with one of my feathers. Lady Silver buzzed me then zoomed off once again.
"You should be grateful the bird sees you as a threat," he said.
"What? Why? And Resco, come on, who is the guy that you have under retainer? I've only asked countless times."
"The drongo could see you as a possible feathery mate instead—and I suppose I can let you meet him. He is young, however, and doesn't like to read." Resco turned slightly and scholarly scowled. "I find him highly irritating so I keep interaction with him to a minimum. He is only allowed in the requisite room while it is activated as benign and uninteresting."
Blinking for a moment, I began laughing. "Okay, the drongo thing is terrifying—and you banned the guy? Wait, let me guess—he's the owner of the krell ball you confiscated! He broke rule number four: no irritating antics." I chuckled some more and wiped the corner of my eye. "I always feared being considered irritating to you. I didn't know how you defined it."
"You were never bothersome as you can read for days. The boy, however, attempted to crack the hourglass with his toy in a prank."
"What?—No," I exclaimed. This was juicy.
"Not that the device can be destroyed, in any standard way. But he deserved expulsion," the Keeper commented darkly.
"Aaand his entire familial line?" I wondered with a smile.
"No. I did not do that. He had to enter a contract with me. The young male was homeless and I offered him a unique job under strict rules."
"Nice." I was about to ask him to clarify the specifics of the boy's job when Lady Silver strafed the desk and covered my head in a lump of fabric. I reached up and grabbed it realizing it was another green cloak. "Perfect! Just what I needed," I exclaimed happily. She twirled and then rested on Red Giant.
"You may as well ask the book to retrieve the satchel I had made for you," he said. He was once again writing on a scroll.
"Seriously? Thank you. But why not ask her yourself?" I questioned, fighting a smile from emerging.
"Lady Trick, I am a Keeper. I do not pet, sing to, or talk to books. That, I have now concluded, is your job," he answered smoothly. "The leather book bag is located at the bottom of your wardrobe."
Whispering to Lady Silver, I asked, "You heard him, right?" She zoomed up and tilted the top of her cover downward in a nod, then careened off.
I smiled.
"And I will have you decide what to do with your majestic drongo. I fear my patience has run thin with the creature and I may be tempted to let it loose outside Vahlta Hall's doors just to study its extreme aggression and see if it is capable of screening irritating patrons from entering," he said.
I smiled at his threat. "Okay, I think I may have a solution. But it requires me to head over to the Black Line compound. How does everything fare over there? Is Lord Theros still alive? Nika mentioned that he was being blamed for the whole Sihvak line's deaths," I mentioned, getting serious at the last part. "And how will I be received? The Sahven knew who I was and put me in the dungeon because of Krule. Me traipsing around sans reject robe—how will that go?"
"Considering the variables like the fact they never saw your face, you are highly unique and despite your human traits, may be found exotically attractive—not to forget your world-ending amount of mahdra that a pureblood Sahven has vetted—I believe you will be absolved of any wrongdoing. That, or given special leeway as long as it behooves them. After all, you were but an innocent female scared to death of a beastly, towering K'Vroken at the time," he said. He paused his work and turned to me raising his brow.
I was snickering already. "Okay, so I'll play that card. Anything else I need to follow on the script to be safe?"
Just then, little Lady Silver flew down from the atrium and lumbered to the desk, dropping the dark-brown leather satchel on the floor. I picked it up and thanked her once more.
"Yes. I need you to have your Lady Silver with you at all times. Though it would be easier on you for her not to fly about and draw attention, if it is in your best interest, let her out. Your Red Giant would be a good addition to the bag, as well. Males will be staring at you Lady Trick. I do not foresee another assault happening as those are incredibly rare, but I will not have you go out without protection," he said. His opaque eyes analyzed me and my reaction.
"Okay, that sounds reasonable. Anything else?" I asked.
Thinking, he slightly—nearly imperceptibly—narrowed his eyes. "Have you had time to read TreValla's recent periodicals?"
"No. I went straight to your miscellaneous room bypassing them. You need me to study up before heading out?"
He quickly answered, "Your miscellaneous room—and no, that is not necessary." Turning around he resumed his meticulous script. "But I will summarize: Lord Theros is a target, but as nothing can be directly pinned on him, and enacting truth spells on pureblood Sahven is just not done without evidence, he is free. Free to campaign for a spot on the High Council. He is young, but he is powerful in alliances and decently gifted with mahdra. He is a contender. But others are waiting and have traveled here from Savos and beyond. The Reshnas, the Veleks, and TreValla's Jesahvs are all vying for the open seat. A Conclave is to be held in ten days. It's all been very interesting.
"Furthermore, I have scanned the homes of the Sahven and have been monitoring some of their discussions using the pathways and cave systems under the city to gain entrance. Based on what my parchment has overheard, Lord Theros, the Reshna family head Lord Rajek, and Lord Silian Jesahv are the ones to watch out for. At this time I am keeping my parchment hidden and still collecting data. Some of the spells in their homes, though easily broken, I've kept intact to clandestinely monitor…for the time being. I may change my mind soon. It's been incredibly vexing to lose out on revealing information."
"No doubt," I remarked.
"That said, K'Vroken war parties have been seen in several coastal cities, and the entire town of Masahv, two leagues to the north of here has been razed. Many of its multi-raced males under the Sahven flag died in the attack." Rescoven said evenly. Emotions weren't his thing.
I sucked in a breath. K'Vroken on the offensive wasn't good. "This was the town that trafficked the abducted K'Vrok fisherman before shipping him to TreValla for experimentation?"
"Yes. Intelligence gathering has been problematic due to the Horde's mahdra destabilizing ability on my parchments, so most of what I have put together has been aerial and not ground information. However, I do know as of now, war has not been officially declared, but tensions are rising. Especially in the city. Soldiers are being gathered and even the Black Line is having to contribute to the cause. Your K'Vroken, who should be gone, could very well be the catalyst to ignite the growing hostilities. I almost have a mind to see what would happen."
"Okay, calm down." I began putting Red and Lady Silver in my satchel, shaking my head in disbelief. I wondered where Krule was staying during the day.
"This is not to say you cannot enjoy yourself, Trick. Political intrigue and rumors of war have always lingered in TreValla. I just wanted to give you a small outlook on the Sahven and K'Vroken climate. And if your K'Vrok exposes himself—"
I snorted. I couldn't help it.
Resco paused his work and let out a short sigh. "If your K'Vroken is seen, then we will welcome the resulting chaos. I feel very comfortable with political unrest and rampant fear. I find I can accomplish many things during times of upheaval."
"Are you still referring to world domination?" I asked, the control of my non-smile finally slipping.
He gave a professor-like shrug. "In a sense, yes. It would be easier if you would just go along."
Chuckling, I scrubbed my face with my hands and then sighed. Grabbing the cloak, I flipped it around my shoulders and secured the clasp. Without the wings in my way, I walked around the desk and held my fist out. And without bothering to peer up, he completed the gesture with his free hand.
"I'm glad you're awake, Trick. You have been missed," Keeper Rescoven said. "In your bag I have spelled a new drongo quill for you. You also have a full coin purse."
"Ha—it's almost like you want me gone," I teased.
"Nonsense. I want the drongo gone. I trust that your plan is sound, and the sooner the bird vacates, the better," he said with exactness.
"Righto—speaking of that, do you have a rope?"
He paused and peered up over his spectacles. Rescoven's brow slowly rose.
Chapter three
Hands on my hips, I stood on the cobbled dead-end street wondering why Rescoven failed to mention this: the cliff face and the reserve above Vahlta Hall had been spilling over. Haell and His vines, roots, trunks, stems, leaves—holy hell all of nature it seemed—were blanketing the library and the businesses around us as if an avalanche of vegetation had swallowed the area. Gazing to my right, the print shop that was in front of the Hall had all of its windows broken out and…I walked over and peered in…had a fully mature tree growing inside bearing fruit. Its white and black trunk had planted itself in the center of the wood floor and its crimson foliage fanned out across most of the ceiling.
It had been deserted.
Peering up, the twins' midday radiance dappled the dead end with light here and there, but the thick, multicolored flora seemed to swallow most of the rays before they could get to the cobblestone that was webbed with roots. Off to my upper left, I think I spotted a makuula in the soaring heights of the tangled branches.
Krule must have loved this.
Shaking my head, I wasn't even going to bother with heading back into the library just to receive a nonchalant response about how the only constant is change. I grabbed the rope, readjusted my leather backpack—which was multifunctional and one that I could also wear as a satchel—and hauled my veiled present. Yes, the drongo in a floating crate. Being the great thinker I was, I had draped an extra-large sheet over the beast to not attract attention. The fabric touched the bumpy, root-tangled cobbled street making it seem as though the 'wheels' were hidden.
Smart. Sort of…
I didn't want to boast or stick out due to the excessive amount of mahdra on the thing.
Now all I had to do was stand tall and walk out from a cursed forested line of abandoned buildings in a swanky green cloak, pulling a large cobalt bedecked wagon with a gold rope, rocking highlighted wavy hair that was so long and messy it was without any vrekking hope—with boobs.
I'd curtsy in acknowledgment of that last lyrical thought, but I was a bit overwhelmed. I wondered if I could still go unnoticed as I used to…
Ha. I wondered if TreValla had circus music. I was suddenly anxious. I'd always been covered with a reject robe before so embracing the freedom of being me without the drapery of anonymity was a tad unmooring.
Taking the long way over, I advanced down the street and followed its traversing route. Eventually, after twelve buildings and a few alley streets were passed, the forest thinned, then faded entirely. Traffic began to pick up as I continued. Casting my eyes ahead, I feared seeing the people's reaction. I wished I could have taken the rooftops, but I figured that even with mahdra manipulation on the crate, I couldn't carry a live animal jumping over streets to stick my grabs with only one hand.
And sure, I could have perhaps relied on the Keeper to deliver the beast without me. I had thought about doing it that way before opting for this. However, I felt a certain finesse was needed to 'pass the reins', if you will. Some tricky insistence. Okay, maybe some mother hen qualities were guiding my actions, too. I wanted to see firsthand that the drongo's welfare would be attended to properly.
After some time focusing on just making it through one block and then another and another, a male yelled out. Stopping, I looked around making sure I wasn't in the way of a draven-pulled wagon. People were staring. Gaping. Work had stopped.
Shivit.
Pulling on the rope once more, I ducked my chin even further. I was never going to use street level again. Forty minutes ago I had exited the Hall feeling somewhat intrepid—now all I felt was exposed…and a hand on my sleeve. Startled, I looked up.
A Pyroch male scowled. "Let me escort you where you need to go, female. You are causing delays," he grumbled, struggling with Common.
I peered around. Though I wasn't in the way, teams of draven for multiple carts stomped and hoofed at the stone road having been completely stopped. Their drivers sat up in their cabs staring at me like I was…well, I guess they were staring at me like I was an alien.
Eh, not their fault, there.
I twisted my arm away but smiled. "No, I'm good. Thank you." I figured I had five or so minutes left of walking until I would near the white gates of Lord Theros's compound. Grin and bear it. I made a move to begin walking again.
"Oi there pet, no need to haul things like a work beast. Let me be your slave up the hill," another voice spoke up. I peered to my left and noticed a Falk leaning in the doorway of the butcher's shop. He grinned at me as we made eye contact.
"No. I am fine, thanks." I heard yelling behind me. People were getting aggravated not knowing what the hold-up was in the street. I started to walk again but soon stopped.
"You poor thing, I'll carry you and your package. Just lead the way by pulling my horns, " another male said bopping his brows as he sauntered over.
Ugh. I think I was just exposed to an innuendo. I flipped him off. He looked confused at the gesture.
Suddenly more voices pushed into my personal space—one gaining the crowd's attention.
"Just what is the problem here? The street has got seven carts blocked by all of you vrekking idiots. Move the haell along or spend some in lockup. Your choice," a familiar voice said as he marched into the cloister. His eyes caught mine. His mouth slightly opened.
