Jack Of All Trades ✓ | steampunk, dragons, trickery

Chapter 9.2: The Story of His Tricks

Jack woke with a groan. Weak sunlight shone down on him through scraggly black branches. A silhouette covered the sun, peering down at him with worry clouding her face.

Shine a light, he thought with relief, it's Eli.

As soon as he thought that he shoved it away. Why was he feeling relieved seeing a wench? One that he hated because she was so nosey and wanted to always bring up the past. He found himself reaching up to her to touch her cheek, something she didn't flinch away from. She took his hand in her right and gave a stiff smile.

"I don't want you hearing my thoughts."

"What a way to wake up," he said, sitting up and winced as his body protested.

"You paved the hill with your fall," she said, "Jett tracked you. He's like," She leaned in close to whisper, "some kind of dog, sniffing the ground and stuff." A hint of disgust in her voice, mixed with some impressed tones.

Jack cracked a smile. "Well, that's a Piet."

They were sheltered under a strange, arch-shaped stone near a clearing desolate without much shrubbery in sight. The ground was gray and ashy, and the trees looked just as black and dead as the rest.

"I scouted a bit," Eli said, sitting beside him, "and I think we're near the dragon's breath cave. We can release Serena. You'll get rid of your curse, and I'll become a Seeker. As long as the dragons know that I helped a cursed one and released a dragon, I can become a Seeker."

"Serena told you this?"

"Yeah."

"Hm," Jack looked down at the stone around his neck, glowing green, "so then with that, you can release the dragons?"

Eli nodded. Just then Jett returned with two rabbits. Before long, Eli and Jett had somehow got a fire going and they were soon eating a meal of rabbit. It wasn't an ideal breakfast, but it would have to do.

Jack finished the meat clean to the bone. "So, you do manage without me."

Jett looked uneasy. "Only after seeing what you did. Where did you learn all that? It's not like something a prince would know."

Eli jabbed Jett with her elbow. "Shush!"

"Sorry," Jett said, bowing his head.

Who are you, Jack? Norman's last few words went through Jack's mind. He had been hiding everything that made him Knave Diamondo and then everything that made him a past prince. But now without being able to return to be Jack Ogswold, who was he?

But I have to be Jack Ogswold. What about Margorie? At the thought of his sister and the home he grew up in, and the people he grew up with, he suddenly felt homesick. He missed those days with Margorie, canning things for winter, planting things in the spring, helping their father with the apple grove, and all the fun they had.

He also missed those days as Knave Diamondo with Norman. They would thieve away precious jewels from royal families to sell and get money to give to the poor like secret donations. Or they would kill imbecile poormen who tried to do wrong. 

Jack's reasoning was, of course, for him to be everyone's hero. He was the great Knave Diamondo who did the dirty work that no one else wanted to do. And he did it because those that did wrong made him feel all kinds of itchy. He had to scratch all the itches.

A good thing Margorie was sent off to girl's boarding school while I did my thing. Jack smiled at the memory. Then he pulled himself from the past to watch Eli and Jett talking quietly with each other. More like bickering. 

Both had furrowed brows and downturned mouths. He couldn't hear what they were saying, and no left sides had been touched come morning, so he couldn't hear any thoughts either. But they were curious, he knew. He would be, probably, in their place. Did it really do any harm in telling them of his days as Knave Diamondo?

Jack shifted his weight and rested an arm on his knee. "You want to know where I got all my skills?"

Eli and Jett turned.

"If you want to tell, yes," Eli said, tucking her hair behind her ear slowly. Then with just her eyes, she looked up at him. "I won't force you."

Dungs and apples. Something about that struck him and his heart did a little jump, but he quickly regained himself. "It's not force. Most of its from Knave Diamondo."

Eli straightened her back and Jett turned his entire body. Both were at attention. Jack continued. "I joined a training camp for kids who wanted to be part of the shadows of society. Who had skills already, but could use some brushing up. That's where I got these," He rolled up his sleeve and made a muscle, "Nice, huh?"

"Damn!" Jett's eyes were wide, and he made his own muscle, but there was nothing to compare, although he was pretty good for a kid.

"Men and their muscles!" Eli scowled, but a slight blush touched her cheeks.

"And," Jack fixed his sleeve, "learned wilderness survival, learned to fight in the dark, learned stealth, theft, and the art of deception, and—"

"Distraction," Eli corrected him with a smirk, "it's called the—"

"—swimming, in case, and talking. Those who are sociable are less likely to be doubted as having a high kill count on their belt. If you're always in the shadows and look suspicious, chances are, you are suspicious. Be in the light."

What was so hard about this? He had been hiding this from even those like Simon, the old man who helped him at the Kaleidoscope. Not many knew he also worked in the shadows. Jack could remember Simon telling him everything, but when it came to Jack's turn, he muddled it up and said he didn't have much on his belt, just a few tricks and a skill in talking.

And look at their awe and not judgement. Jack smirked as Eli nodded as if urging him to continue.

"So, I found my way. Became the most sociable person. Jack Ogswold, owner of the gallery, the Kaleidoscope. A people person. The man with all the friends. Everyone who is anyone wants to know Jack Ogswold. But I never use my name for bad, oh no, always the humble, helpful man."

Eli laughed.

"It's true!" Jack argued. "Always—"

"No, it's so opposite to who you really are. Humble? Eat worms, you're not humble. You weren't Jack Ogswold when we met."

Jack was about to object. He was always Jack Ogswold out in public. But then he remembered how he was with her. He had his Jack Ogswold mask on, but what did he do? It had come so naturally, too. With Eli, from the very beginning, Jack could not be the humble, kind, people-pleaser Jack Ogswold of the Kaleidoscope. Was it because she said she knew about his curse and believed it was true? Eli was staring at him, and he was staring at her. He looked away.

"I need to pee," Jett suddenly stood and ran off into the forest.

"Don't go too far!" Eli called after him like a mother did a child. A chilled breeze ruffled her hair. Scowling, she began to fix the mess when another breeze came. "Idiots," she grumbled and tried to tame her wavy hair. Jack had never met anyone like Eli, that was true. She was straightforward, to the point, stubborn, and naïve. But her naivete was slowly fading away. He had no idea she could fight or think fast to jump onto a train evading the police. Or be prepared to run away with that giant bag she had.

Jack rubbed his chin. Come to think of it, didn't she run away from her Lady duties to follow her grandfather's wishes? What do you call that but ambitious and brave?

"What? Something on my face?" She frowned at him. He noticed she had been doing a lot of frowning at him specifically.

Jack frowned. "Why don't you smile?"

"I won't even if you try to make me."

"You really are a stubborn wench."

"Whatever." She shook her head and that was that. She ruffled through her pockets mumbling something under her breath, ignoring him.