I laughed at the formality. Isolde was my mother’s name. The
thought of her brought a bitter taste to my mouth, the coffee’s smoky taste
turning to wormwood on my tongue. I wasn’t sure how many people knew about our
rocky family relationship but I sure wasn’t going to start a family tree debate
right here in the Underground. Information could be easily misused and I hardly
knew who to trust anymore.
“I’m Rendell. Just Ren will do.”
I watched as she nodded and took another sip of her drink,
the streaks of colour tinging her face an eerie pale blue. The colour of the
drowned. I shuddered and pretended to draw my cloak closer to hide my sudden
movement.
“As I said, what brings you here, Ren?” she asked again.
I thought about the way we had found the body just this
morning, at dawn to be precise. The creepy silence that descended among the
members of the Circle of Timekeepers was broken by the single cry from one of
us. I would know that voice anywhere.
Imelda was barely held in check by two other Timekeepers as
we discovered the body of her father, my future father-in-law. I couldn’t help
her. I couldn’t discover his murderer despite all the efforts to turn back the
time in the shadows of that grand hall with its onyx pillars shot through with
gold. So here I was, to find help. I looked back at her, the great pyromage,
Felice. She raised a dark silver brow at me and cocked her head back as she
knocked down the rest of her drink in one shot. “Let’s head to my room. More
privacy that way.” she muttered as she slipped off the bar stool in one fluid
motion. I followed the train of her dress that emitted tiny sparks of flame as
she moved swiftly to the back of the club, the dancers scrambling out of her
way to avoid being burned. What had I gotten myself into, I sighed inwardly.
I sat awkwardly on the edge of the plush love seat that
mirrored Felice’s seat across the carved mahogany table. I felt rather exposed
without my cloak around my shoulders, the soft, worn warmth of its dark folds that
normally hid me from the world were temporarily removed and hung from a hook in
the shape of a lion with its fangs bared in a growl. The room Felice had led me
to resembled a drawing room in the Victorian style that was popular among most
Undergrounders. Anywhere else I would have considered it tacky, but here it
seemed natural to have walls panelled with dark wood that gleamed in the soft
light of numerous candles that lined the walls in a sort of wave pattern that
were actually patterns of bloody waves on the wallpaper. Everything in the room
was a different warm colour ranging from the palest orange to the darkest,
bloodiest red. It was like sitting in the heart of a garnet.
“Tell me everything.” she commanded as she draped her long
legs along the velvet footstool that sat near her couch.
I glanced up at her tone. Timekeepers were generally treated
with more respect. We commanded the common folk and not the other way round. Even if Felice were one of the best, she had no right and it would have been punishable by Underground law. But this was no time to be
fussy about such formalities and stiff rules. I had a job to perform. Taking a
deep breath, I prepared myself for the questions that were sure to come. Felice
did not take things lightly.
“I need you to assassinate someone.” I replied levelly.
Her eyes widened from their normal cat-eyed glance, the
pupils enlarging, the black overpowering the ice blue for a moment.
“Who exactly are we talking about?” she tried to keep her voice casual as
she played with a small tongue of flame that constantly shifted from her
knuckles to the tips of her fingers.
“My father.”
~Rei Shiori
No comments:
Post a Comment