Chapter Sixteen
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Who knew sittin’ in a conference room for seven hours was so stinkin’ exhaustin’? I could gag up an agenda item or two as I flopped on the short couch in the livin’ area between our suites. I’ve worked hard in my life. Studied all day before, crammed for important exams. But never felt as ripped to shreds as I did this moment. And as explained to me by an almost giddy Kla, the day was only half over. She or her brother Gai would pick us up in a couple hours for barbecue and general minglin’.
Not embarrassed to admit Hale hadn’t been on my mind much. Considered pullin’ out my phone and ringin’ him. But he hadn’t lowered himself to call me once, to share the experiences of his day. I thought back to that mortician I needed to hire. Officially I should still be ticked off at Hale. Maybe I’m too tired to keep the emotion up.
I opted to close my eyes for a moment, leaned over and hugged the large side cushion. Pretty sure I fell asleep. For no more than a second, when the front door opened and Hale strolled in, all but whistling. Not that he wore a smile. He doesn’t smile. But I sensed his absence of malaise, which didn’t feel right. I ripped a quick look at my watch, and leapt from the settee.
“What’s up?” Hale asked.
I’m usually the one askin’ that. “They’re supposed to be pickin’ us up in, like, twenty minutes.”
“They’re waitin’ for us in the lobby,” he said.
No way. I wouldn’t have time to shower, pick out a dress, paint my face. My life is ruined, and complacency flowed off my stinkin’ siblin’s aura. Don’t know if aura is a good word for what I pick up on. I’m new to bein’ a witch. Not that I’m a witch.
Hale cocked ’is head at me. “Ya ready to go?”
My shoulders sagged a bit. Sensed impatience and confusion washin’ from Hale. Dragon pooh. I was gonna slip into the shower for a moment. They could wait on me.
~
Hale
~
Bele is usually—hard to put her in a certain round or square peg hole. Put together. That’s as good an expression to come to mind. From the other room I could hear her ramblin’ to herself. Had to be to herself. Not like I was listenin’ to her, on purpose. But I think she decided upon the top dress facin’ her from her duffle. Least wrinkled. She didn’t have time to iron it. Blah blah.
I think her jeans and polo from the mornin’ was fine. I wasn’t gonna don a dress for the evenin’. Snort. I have a sense of humor. Can’t let nobody say I don’t. I just don’t laugh. Much. I try it once a month just to see if it changes my mood. But my mood is pretty constant. Except for the occasional episode.
My mind wandered to Gai whisperin’ to a friend that I worried him. Had threatened to kill ’im. Which isn’t true. Just promised to put ’im in the hospital. I checked my watch. Hope Gai and Kla are patient. Been ten minutes.
Another fifteen minutes passed before she showed her face. She walked as she painted junk above an eye, peerin’ in a mirror the size of an orc’s palm. We are amazin’ creatures, considerin’ she can paint, walk, peer into a mirror, and blather mean epitaphs at a siblin’ at the same time.
I led her to the door, got her to the elevator without her trippin’ and breakin’ her face. I’ll admit I had to analyze her bearin’. The black swirls of her mostly red dress, that ended mid-thigh, wasn’t somethin’ I could recall her ever wearin’ before. Her wet dreads streaked moisture across her mostly bare shoulders, runnin’ halfway down her back before it found more material to moisten.
Whoa. That dress didn’t cover much of her. Thankfully it didn’t dip as far in the front as it did in the back. She’s half troll, but her Papa’s genes gave her plenty to pad her chest. I guess there’s a better way of sayin’ that ogre hens are pretty much always weighted heavy in the top-front half. But then they’ve got generous paddin’ in the hips and ogre butt too. That’s where Bele’s troll side gives her a break. The curves don’t so much match a Range’s village lane, as it does a turnpike.
“What are ya studyin’ so hard?” Bele hissed.
I’d let her witch side read my mind.
The elevator settled on the ground floor, and she was still tryin’ to gouge her eyes out through her eyelids. How she managed to follow me out after the door opened will impress me for months.
Fifty feet away, Gai and Kla stood in the lobby. I’d go out on a ledge and say they were waitin’ with a mood of irritation, only because I know I’d gotten tired waitin’ on Bele.
“Expected ya to be hungrier than ya two are showin’,” Kla said.
I caught Gai’s expression. What maybe was irritation a moment before had evaporated. I imagined what the long face, jaw agape, eyes twitchin’, meant. A moment later, Kla caught on to her brother’s demeanor. A second later she elbowed ’im hard in the ribs. Real hard. She hissed at him somethin’ that sounded like, get yar eyes back in yar head and yar tusks back in yar mouth.
All of this gave me a lot to think about as we rushed to the parkin’ lot. In the OM SUV, Bele continued usin’ her itty-bitty mirror. Paintin’ isn’t a big part of my art repertoire, but I could sense she’d applied at least three complimentary layers. Was workin’ well, aesthetically. For what end, I couldn’t understand. But she’s a hen. Papa’s told me a few times that we’re not intended to understand ’em.
Thirty minutes later after a short jaunt on the North-South Turnpike, and a couple quick lights, we pulled into a Prestige Resort, the half-mile drive snakin’ up a steep slope. Out the left, the ocean glittered under a sun which was way too bright, low in the sky. We don’t get suns like that in the Range. All that water, yet the region remains as arid as the plain three hundred miles north. Odd.
Papa’s never used a valet that I’m aware of, but Kla strode away from her car leavin’ her door open—so I figgered what was up, and followed her. Oddly, Gai held back and seemed awfully attentive to Bele. I woulda thought waitin’ for her for better part of an hour would have put ’im off, but he reminded me a bit like a puppy followin’ someone from the barn after milkin’ a cow.
The lobby of this place grabbed my attention for the next ten minutes. Mama has said Papa’s as rich as two or three gods, but we’ve never stayed any place this opulent. Actually, far from it—Papa will use his travel app to find a place with free breakfast.
The steep, two-floor escalator was cool. A wall of glass behind us continued to ogle the darkenin’ purple of the ocean. Not as beautiful as the Ridge, but it had me wishin’ I’d brought along my camera.
Well-dressed ogres began crossin’ our path as we arrived at the mezzanine. Maybe I should have scooted out of my jeans. The hens appeared more in line with Bele’s attire. Though there were plenty dressed like Kla, in her black, silky slacks that reached mid-shin, matching blouse that flowed open across the top enough for Mama to plant her hand over her mouth.
Music flowed. At least five fiddles, a base or two, banjo, drums, and a piano. Enterin’ the salon, startled me a bit. There was more of that shiny bling, tall ceilin’. I thought the West hoedown was supposed to be a small affair. I remember one of the grands talkin’ about minglin’ under the trees durin’ a local hoedown, moons ago. Why were there at least two-hundred folk standin’ around itsy-bitsy, what I’ll call tall cocktail tables for lack of a different word, gnawin’ on kebabs, sippin' from fluted glasses? Pretty fancy for ogres, just my opinion.
For a moment the world swiveled a bit, as Gai dragged Bele for the dance floor. In my opinion, she would have paired up with a troll better. As close as he had to stand to her, he had to look up a lot.
“Ya wanna bite before we hit the floor?” Kla asked me.
Uh. She thought she’d get me dancin’? Didn’t see that happenin’. And I was led to believe the hoedown evenin’s were just about bulls standin’ around a still gettin’ looped. While the hens did whatever hens do.
Evidently not. I studied Bele, as Gai twisted and turned her. Maybe enjoyin’ a bit too much, restin’ his hand on her bare back. She appeared to be enjoyin’ herself, even when another bull tapped Gai on the shoulder and absconded deeper into the pool of dancers with my sister eagerly followin’. Very strange. No matter how deep she’d get in the mob, I should be able to keep track of her. She was definitely the tallest out there.
Without the musicians startin’ a second song, at least two more bulls had claimed her. Hm.
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