The Wanderer: Chapter 7

                                                Chapter 7: Home


    Kierce talked, a lot. The boy never seemed to shut up. Either with questions about magic, talking about his dreams and hopes, or asking about all the places Althea had lived.
   
    He was driving her crazy.
   
    She couldn't remember the last time some one talked to her like this and she couldn't figure our how to make him stop. She tried tuning him out, but the boy would just repeat the question till she answered. She finally snapped at him. With a fierce blush he looked away in embarrassment. Glad for the silence she was startled by the growl at her heels. Looking down at the Fae it stared back with condemnation then jerked its small head toward the boy, as if telling her to apologize. Althea couldn't believe it, she was getting lectured by a rodent. Heaving a martyred sigh she apologized.

    "I'm not used to people talking to me." she explained shooting him a small smile. Kierce only nodded his head, but kept his gaze else where. At another disgruntled growl Althea launched into questions of her own. Asking about his family, his home town, and other standard asinine questions. In the beginning she only listened half-heartedly, but soon she started catching on to how he was answering and what he wasn't saying. Her questions became more probing and his answers more evasive and his tone more off-handed as if he was trying to make light of something horrible. What she pieced together from his sad tale of home life sickened her; and for the first time in centuries she was growing to hate another being. Mostly people just disappointed her with their ignorance and giving into their fears, but Kierce's sister Mariah, she better pray that they never meet or Althea might brake her oath and use her powers for harm. Serious harm.
   
    His sister sounded just like 'them'; manipulative, selfish, self-righteous, and cruel. The similarities between his childhood and hers was damn depressing. Loving parents died protecting him being turned on by those who should have protected him. Yes, Althea knew this song well, and its tune never ceased to sicken her. There was only one thing for it. She would keep him. She'd give him the choice naturally, but still she couldn't let him go back to that. She had been saved, true it hadn't lasted long and horrible unspeakable things came of it, but for a while she had been happy. It was that happiness and the hope of finding it again that drove her. It would drive him too.

    "So, you want to be a blacksmith eh?" Althea asked good naturedly. Glance sideways she saw the tension release a little from his shoulders.

    "I like working with my hands, and it pays good. I like the metal work more though. Cause soon, soon his whole country is going to run on Steamers. Horses and carts and all that will be useless-WHAT?!" Kierce demanded, having to yell over Althea's loud peels of laughter.

    "STEAMERS? Oh my goddess!! Really? That's what you call them?" bent over she gasped for breath.

    "What's wrong with calling them Steamers? That's what they are!"

    "Sure, sure. Aptly named, pieces of shit the lot of them!" She cackled.

    Kierce's face flamed red as he got the connection. Steamers were a common reference in the country side for horse or cow awful. In the larger cities Steamers was slang for the new steam powered carriages. They were powered by boiler engines and dominated the larger cities of Clayton, Flynn, and the capitol Vernon were paved roads were more common.

    "It's what they're called." he muttered under his breath plodding along beside Althea, tears streaming down her face and the Fae rolling its eyes.



    It was dark by the time they reached the village of Tray. The buildings were actually from THIS century and it had an over all more welcoming feel to it. All was soft and quite as the village slept. Only the soft clack of Bale's hooves on the paved road bounced off the high plaster walls. Curious nods of greeting were exchanged by the handful of people still lingering on the streets.

    Kierce's face had grown pinched and pale. He was still recovering and needed rest. She led him past shops and boutiques, empty stalls for farmers, and a comfortable looking inn. Winding threw the sleepy streets the buildings and homes thinning out till only one remained at the end of the drive.

    Two stories high it loomed with empty flower boxes in its shuttered windows. Lawn over grown and patchy with weeds. An ancient fence in serious need of new planks bowed and sagged. At one point the wooden moldings had been painted, what color who could say. Rough brick made up the foundation and part of the first floor. It was old and run down desperately in need of some love and care, it was now to be home.

    "Wait here." Althea whispered as she walked around to the side of the house. She had hidden  the key beneath a pile of stones near the barren vegetable garden. It was sad  that she had resorted to doing this because of how often her houses WERE burned down. She lost so much stuff that way. It wasn't cheap either, starting over from scratch. She had learned to always have two or three houses at any given time. You never know when you were going to get run off. That and she had to move every ten years because she didn't age. That was one good thing at least, she didn't have to worry about weak bones and painful joints. She was still as spry as she was when she was in her twenties.

    There was no barn so Kierce had to hobble Bale in the small pasture behind the house. The fence was really more of a suggestion not an actual force to hold things in or out. It was doubtful Bale would stray far from Kierce, the large bay was endearingly loyal to the lad.

    Unlocking the front door it swung open with a high pitched whine. The floor was caked with dust and barren cobwebs hung from the rafters. Even the spiders had abandoned this place. Dingy sheets draped over lumps of furniture held a eerie glow from the lumous stones placed around the room.

    Bolting the door behind them Althea lead the way up stairs to the bed room. Drawn and pale Kierce stumbled blindly up the stairs behind Althea. Moon light spilled into the simple room alighting a pale shape in the corner. Throwing off the dust covers she revealed a simple bed. It looked soft and inviting with a thick downy quilt and plump pillows. It was not a large bed, but two could fit comfortably and they were both to tiered to care about propriety. So off with their boots and belts and into bed fully clothed they went with the Fae curled by their heads.  


    It was still dark when Althea awoke. She could never sleep more than a few hours at a time. It was to long a time being defenseless. There were terrors in the night, monsters in the shadows. Just because the world had chosen to forget them didn't make them any less real. So as the first rays of dawn crept over the tree tops Althea had already set up protection wards around the doors and windows. Simple runes that we keep out goblins and sprites as well as other mischievous little creatures. The larger threats would have to be handled as they came, if they came. Something about her seemed to repulse the Furies and the Banshees, she couldn't remember the last time she saw an ifrit. Good riddance, nasty things ifrits and ugly.  

    She was halfway through cleaning the kitchen when Kierce ambled down stairs. Disheveled and blurry eyed he slumped onto a stool at the kitchen work table. He seemed to be waiting for something. Was this perhaps his routine back home? Slump down to the kitchen for breakfast? Bewilderedly Kierce blinked at the empty space before him at the table then up at Althea.

    The moment recognition hit was priceless. Eyes wide a startled "Eeep" was quickly followed by a thump as he hit the floor, the stool following after. Peering over the rustic table Althea saw the flailing of limbs as he wrestled free from the attacking stool. In a flash he shot up and tired to play off as if nothing happened. As if he hadn't squeaked like a mouse and fallen to the floor and his face wasn't tomato red. Yeah, like Althea would let that happen.

    "You going to take that lad? Get back down there and show that stool who's in charge!"

    If it was possible Kierce's face grew even hotter. Mumbling a few choice words under his breath he took a seat at the second stool. Lips twitching she studied him, waiting to see if he would ask "what's for breakfast?" or if he would just sit there and wait for her to feed him. He would be waiting a long time. Not only because she didn't serve anybody, but also because there was no food in the house.

    That was how the Fae found them a few minutes latter. Kierce staring at the blank table before him as if food would magically appear, Althea staring at Kierce waiting for him to ask the Fae staring at them both like they were idiots.

    "Ummm." Kierce was the first to break the silence. He wasn't as used to it as Althea was. She could go days with out speaking, he could barely go hours.

    "Yes?"

    "Umm, er, how, that is where-" he fumbled over how to ask for food. It wasn't his house, she wasn't his care taker, and one did not ask ones host to be feed. It was expected, but it was not polite to ask. It was something that should have been offered immediately as was polite.

    "I need to go to the market. There is no food." Althea took pity on the poor boy, mostly because the Fae had come over and was flexing its delicate claws threateningly at her. A hungry weasel was a grumpy weasel.

    "Put your boots on and do something with that bush on our head and we'll had out."


    The market was bustling with merchants and farmers hustling their wares. Filling the empty stalls from the night before to bursting. Whicker baskets teamed with fresh vegetables and fruit, chill boxes displayed fresh fish and game, and the rich sent of bread wafted on the breeze. It was quaint, it was familiar, it was daunting. This is where Althea always ran into trouble. She stuck out like a sore thumb cause she didn't gossip or do small talk. Curious glances were cast their way; it had not escaped the good people of Tray that there were strangers among them. Althea was her typical self, distantly polite and blunt. Kierce, on the other had, was bright eyed and congenial. Greeting and chatting with the people they met as they went about stocking up. The towns folk laughed good naturedly at Althea's pithy comments and Kierce's endearing bumbling. There was something about him that drew her out of her shell. Made her more approachable.

    There were a few probing comments about their relation to one another, they looked nothing alike after all. Kierce was obviously a fellow Honoran, with his blonde hair and large eyes, Althea on the other hand looked Atreian. Her dark hair, pale eyes, and high cheek bones were native to the land across the Capri mountains. She was exotic, even though she lacked an accent, she was a black sheep amongst the pale flock blondes and red heads.

    They were friends. That's the only answer either one of them could give, and it as one the town's people accepted. Kierce was barely thirteen, not even a man yet, and Althea looked to be in her mid twenties so they couldn't be lovers. So, friends they were, much to the delight of a few young girls who giggled and blush at the sight of Kierce.

    Over all it was a lovely time, Kierce doing all the talking with Althea steering him here or there as needed. The people welcomed them with open arms and warm smiles; relieving some of the tension in Althea. Kierce was surprisingly funny, intentionally funny, he had a small group of villagers laughing when a man sidled up to Althea.

    He towered over her petite form and would have been considered intimidating if it wasn't for the genial smile on his face. Warm brown eyes twinkled beneath thick brows.

    "How do you do?" he asked politely

    "Very well Constable, and yourself?" she returned. His deep red uniform made him look dashing, his wind blown hair softening the severity of it.

    "Well enough. Edmond Rodgers. . ." he let the end hang in silent question.

    "Althea Barlow." she held out her hand, cordially he shook it and they shared a grin.

    It was no simple greeting, oh no, a whole conversation went on unspoken between the two.

    He didn't say 'I know you snuck in last night, are we goin to have a problem?'
    And she didn't say 'No sir, just a long trip."
    'This is my town, I'll be watching you.'
    'This is now my town too, I'll be watching you.'
    'Touché Miss. Barlow'

    Constable Rodgers gave a slight bow before walking off into the crowed, silent warning given he was off. Bemusedly Althea stared after him, this town will might be interesting.

    "Althea. Althea!" Kierce skidded up to her, face flushed and eyes bright. "You've got to see this they have a steam-car!" excitedly he grabbed her arm and dragged her off.


    Arms loaded with packages they burst into the house; the Fae, who had been left behind, bounced about their feet. With a series of side ways hops its body wiggled in excitement feeding off the positive energy pouring off its two humans. Kierce was chattering away about the steam-car. Most of it going over Althea's head she merely nodded and gave ambiguous response when ever he paused.

    After walking around a little they had luncheon at a little tea shop, after that Althea had looked into ready-wear dresses and to make an appointment with a seamstress, and on they went stopping here and there for other sundries. Larger orders of furniture would have to be made on another day after Althea had figured out what she wanted to do with the house and also to see what was salvageable from the furniture already here.

    They were in the kitchen when Kierce asked "How many homes do you have?" Looking around the quaint kitchen while Althea was putting food away in the pantry.  

    "Only two at any given time. I move around a lot. I was actually planning on moving here in a couple more years. Which is why it's so sparse I hadn't gotten around to furnishing it yet." Dusting her hands off as she left the pantry she too looked around the now fully stocked kitchen. It was the only room of the house that looked livable.

    "So, the room across from mine can be yours. We'll need to get you a bed and other sundries. As for Bale we'll have to build something, unless he's going back to your sister." Althea said matter-of-factly arms crossed her chest.

    "Wait what?" Kierce blinked in surprise.

    "You're staying here aren't you? Sounds like your sister is a tyrant. I'm sure there is something you can do in the village for work. You can talk to that gentleman with the steam-car you were drooling over. He seemed to like you well enough. You know what I am already. Unless that bothers you, in which case, by all means leave."

    Kierce swallowed uncomfortably as he meet her fierce grey eyes. The Fae perched on her shoulder watched him intently. He would have to be mad to accept. They were strangers that had stolen from him, poisoned him. . .and since meeting her he hadn't once thought about home.

    He stayed, though on more than one occasion he asked himself why. Althea was eccentric, sarcastic, and had a morbid sense of humor. She delighted in teasing him till his face was purple with rage and indignation, and had no respect for his personal space. The rodent was another nuisance, one he was gratified to see, was not only aggravating him but Althea as well. The little beast got into everything, nothing was safe, and the little thief would abscond with the most random assortment of trinkets. Hiding them under beds, bookcases, or in cupboards. Everyday was a battle of wills and chaos. He loved every minute of it and was grateful everyday that he had escaped the sterile and suffocating house of his sister.