Chapter Two Hundred and Eighty-Six - Warhawk

I stretched big, which meant that my arms reached as high as they could and my toes were stretched out until all of my limbs shook with tension. It was a nice thing to do just after waking up, though it did highlight an issue: I really missed pyjama pants. Nice, thick flannel pyjama pants. The sort that were all nice and warm and soft.

There had to be someone selling that kind of thing in Goldenalden.

Or maybe they weren’t invented yet?

Would it be morally wrong of me to pretend to invent the pyjama bottom in another world? What would I even call them? Broccoli Bottoms? That sounded too silly.

I trudged into the living room of our little corner of the inn and found Awen reading on the couch, already dressed for the day, and Amaryllis slumped out across the table as if she had just entirely run out of energy. “Good morning!” I said.

“Hey Broc,” Awen said without looking away from the page she was reading. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yup!” I declared. “How about you?”

“The beds here are nice, but I kind of miss the Beaver Cleaver,” Awen said. “The noise helped me sleep at night.”

“The noise?” I asked.

Awen nodded. “The engines, mostly. I could hear them running from my room. It’s very quiet in here. You can barely tell that we’re in a city if you don’t look out the window.”

“Enchantments,” Amaryllis said. She pushed herself off the table. “To keep things quiet. So, you’re finally awake?”

I giggled. “You don’t look all that awake yourself, Amaryllis. What happened?”

“Too many thoughts in my head, all at once,” Amaryllis said. “All competing for attention at the same time. It’s a burden, being this smart.”

“I’m sure,” I agreed. “So what has your burdensomely smart brain figured out? What’s the plan for today?”

“First,” Amaryllis said with imperious decorum. “You dress in something other than a night-gown. Second, we obtain breakfast. That should take care of all our temporary needs. Then, once that’s done and we’ve all cleaned up... I’m thinking of finding those harpies that arrived yesterday. They might know more about the diplomatic team sent for the summit, or they might have their own plans and reasons for being here, in which case it would be best to speak with them sooner rather than later.”

“That sounds like a decent plan,” I said.

Amaryllis nodded. “Of course it does. I came up with it.”

“Well then, shall we enact the first stage of your glorious plan?” I asked.

I ran back to my room and got dressed and ready for the day. Armour shined up, dress cleaned, and hair combed until it was more or less straight. When I rejoined my friends I found them just as ready as I was.

We climbed up to the main inn floor and grabbed a quick bite to eat while Amaryllis detailed the next part of her master plan.

“The harpy are staying at an inn nearby. I trust Caprica’s information that far, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they changed locations if they’re worried about trouble,” Amaryllis said.

“Do you think they need to be worried?” I asked.

“I think the three of us have discovered ample evidence that Goldenalden isn’t as safe as some sylph would have you believe it is,” Amaryllis said. "Also, the actual diplomatic mission did mysteriously vanish.”

I shoved down a couple of spoonfuls of oatmeal (with some sweet, fruity syrup on it; it wasn’t maple syrup, but it was an acceptable, if inferior, substitute) then swallowed the glop down with a glass of juice. “Okay! Let’s head out then. The sooner we meet your harpy friends, the sooner we can see how we can help.”

“I just hope that they’ll see things the way we do,” Amaryllis said.

“What do you mean?” I asked as I got up.

“Not all harpy will be as against the idea of a war as we are.”

“It sounds like that’s the case with most places,” Awen said. “Sylphfree, the Trenten Flats, even the Harpy Mountains.”

Amaryllis sniffed. “There will always be people who put their own good before that of others. Coincidentally, they’re never the ones who will be doing any of the dirty work if things go wrong.”

We descended back to the ground floor, then out onto the busy streets. There were plenty of sylph out, pulling carts and hustling about despite the early hour.

Amaryllis took the lead, walking as if she wanted everyone in front of her to see up her nostrils. Still, even with her head tilted back, it didn’t take long for her to guide us over to an inn a block away. It seemed, from outside, to be just a little bit less reputable than the Dewdrop Inn, though maybe I was being unfair by judging it from the street like that.

We stepped into a teeny tiny lobby area, where a flustered sylph showed us into an elevator that creaked its way up to the topmost floor.

The inn’s owner, a nice sylph by the name of Jordi, admitted that he had some harpy clients, but he seemed reluctant to tell us who they were. “Can you at least tell us if you served them breakfast yet?” I asked.

“Huh? Well, I suppose there’s no harm in telling you that I haven’t yet. They came in just yesterday, I imagine they’ll be a bit weary from the flight over.”

“Thanks!” I said. I made a point to order more juice and a small helping of second breakfast so that Jordi wouldn’t be insulted by us loitering around.

It didn’t take long for the harpies to show up. Three young men, all a couple of years older than me, if I were to guess. They wore fine clothes, and walked with their beaks up and a bit of a strut.

I recognized them. Or at least, I recognized the one in the middle of the flock.

“Francis?” Amaryllis asked.

The harpy stopped and turned to stare at Amaryllis, obvious surprise on his face for just a moment before he masked it under an ugly sneer. “Amaryllis Albatross,” he said as if the name were a curse. “How terribly unfortunate to find you here.”

Francis’ buddies looked between him and Amaryllis, but it seemed like they weren’t going to stick their beaks into what was brewing.

“What are you doing here?” Amaryllis asked.

“Haven’t I asked you first?” he asked. He glanced past Amaryllis and at Awen and me. “You’re here with your pet bun and some wayward human, of all things. What auspicious company the Albatross keep.”

“Hi Francis!” I said with a wave.

He glared. “It’s Francisco,” he said. “Francisco Hawk of the Hawk clan.”

“Oh, sorry. It’s been a bit, and we only met for a few minutes,” I said. “My bad. Do you remember my name at all?”

“I don’t care to remember the names of rabble,” he said.

Amaryllis’ feathers puffed. “What are you doing here, Francis?”

“You’d do well to call me by my name too, honourless Albatross,” he snapped.

“Honourless?” Amaryllis boggled.

I felt Awen lean close behind me. “Who is that?”

“That’s Francisco Hawk,” I said. “He’s Amaryllis’ ex-fiancé. They don’t get along.” Awen’s eyes widened.

“Yes!” Francisco said. He stomped his way closer to Amaryllis. “Honourless. Don’t you remember the last time we met? You said you would duel me, but you never showed.”

“I... there was an attack on the ball! People died!” Amaryllis rebutted.

“A few sylphs,” Francisco said with a dismissive wave. He spoke lower, tone pitched so that only those of us nearest to him would hear. “They’re the sort that are all likely to die in the coming war, anyway.”

I gasped, and Francisco looked at me with obvious pleasure. How could someone say something like that?

“So, you’re one of the fools who want to drag the whole continent into a war?” Amaryllis hissed. “I should have figured you would be an advocate for the stupidest option. You are as brain-dead as I feared, Hawk.”

“Don’t pretend to be any brighter, Albatross,” he said. “You and yours will profit from this just as much as any other harpy clan will. Moreso, maybe, there are only women left in your clan, right? Hardly good for war. You’ll be left toiling back home while my comrades and I win honour and glory for our proud nation.”

“You will do no such thing,” Amaryllis said. “We’re going to set things right at the summit. Put an end to this farce.”

The harpy glared at Amaryllis, then his glare melted into a smile. “You can’t attend,” he said.

“Pardon?”

“I rescind your right to attend the summit,” he said, his nose tilting up.

“Keep talking and I might rescind your right to breathe,” Amaryllis growled.

I stepped up between them, mostly to restrain Amaryllis. The air around her smelled like ozone, which wasn’t a good sign. “What do you mean, Mister Hawk?”

“I’m the senior diplomat here, aren’t I?” he asked.

“Hardly,” Amaryllis said. “Our clans are equal.”

“Ah, but I’m older, he said. “And I’m the first son of my clan. You’re just... the spare.”

There was a snap-crack, and Francisco stumbled back, hand brushing at the front of his very nice coat where a burned streak now traced itself across the lapels. "That is it," Amaryllis seethed. "I'm going to fry you like a rotisserie chicken!"

“Hey, hey, wait,” I said.

“No, there’s no need for waiting,” Amaryllis said. She started to twist her arm, and I just knew she was going to pull out her knife.

“A duel!” I said, loud enough that it made everyone pause. “You were promised a duel, right?” I asked Francisco. “Then why don’t we provide you with one? The winner gets to represent the harpy at the summit. It’ll be nice and, uh, official.”

“To the death?” Francisco asked.

“To yours, maybe,” Amaryllis said.

“No no,” I said. “I’m sure the sylph have, uh, arenas or something for this kind of thing. They’ve got to have rules too. I’m sure it’s all very civilised. I hope.”

Francisco glared at Amaryllis past my shoulder, then nodded. “This afternoon,” he said. “That should be long enough for you to prepare yourself for that kind of venture. You certainly seemed ready to claw at my throat just now.”

“Fine then,” Amaryllis said. “This afternoon. I’ll send someone to you with the time and address.”

Francisco’s eyes narrowed. “How about we make it more interesting then? My two companions here will want in on the fight too. You have two sycophants. It would be a shame if you lost them.” Francisco’s friends glanced at each other. They’d been very quiet so far, and I wasn’t sure they’d actually want anything to do with the fight.

“Wow,” I said. “Did you rehearse how to sound like a cheap villain in front of the mirror?” I asked.

Francisco sniffed. “Is that a no? Your animal half is showing, cowardly little bunny.”

“We’ll do it,” Awen said. “I really don’t mind.”

Francisco glared some more, but then he snapped his talons and walked off with his friends, leaving us behind without so much as a word.

“Rude,” I muttered under my breath. Then I turned to my friends, specifically Amaryllis. “What was that?”

She huffed the huff of someone who didn’t want to talk about it. “He gets under my feathers.”

“You almost attacked him. You did attack him. Amaryllis, that could have led to a fight!”

“I wanted it to, obviously,” she said.

I pouted at her. “We could have gotten hurt. That wasn’t very smart, I don’t think. And you’re supposed to be the one that’s clever about these kinds of things.”

Amaryllis crossed her arms. “Like I said. I dislike him.”

I shook my head. “And Awen, why did you escalate?”

Awen hesitated a moment before answering. “Ah, well, it was to our advantage?”

“Our advantage?” I asked.

“They’re weaker than we are. Their levels are the same, but their classes aren’t as good, and they don’t carry themselves like people who know how to fight. And if we do fight with them, and win, then I think the sylph here might respect us a bit more? They’re very martial, you know, so that kind of thing probably impresses them a lot.”

“That’s... fine,” I said. “How are we going to find a place for a duel on such short notice?”

“Oh, that part is easy,” Amaryllis said. “We go and bother Caprica. She’ll want us to win anyway, so I can’t foresee her not stacking the deck in our favor.”

“We’re not going to cheat,” I said.

“No no, not cheating, just... ensuring an even playing field,” Amaryllis said. “Francisco doesn’t know how to fight fairly. Trust me?”

I crossed my own arms. “Fine,” I said. “But I still very much don’t like any of this.”

“I know,” Amaryllis said. “You can pout about it for the rest of the day, as long as we win.”

“I think I need a hug.”

***