"But there is still someone else," Hemingway gestured as blackened twigs and long-deceased bushes rustled below his moving feet. "who would be of greater use to us on our way to the Crusade than many others in the same scenario."
"Is it Natasha?" Soal speculated, drawing a sigh from Hemingway.
"Indeed that is so," the pseudo-Sulukridger affirmed. "In another timeline, she was a Crusader herself. But she continues to deny it to this day, yet I can see that her knowledge of its principles is still as great as it ever was."
"You two get along well... much better than you should," Irene remarked. "Despite your perpetual arguments, why did you ever agree to sign a pact with this smuggling organization?"
"It was just the advice of the Ambassador," Hemingway confessed. "Remember -- questions later. We will by my intention be meeting with the Ambassador, as you could have inferred from my debate in Counter's Hall, in due time. Our second step as of now is simply reaching Sogbury, which is not far from here."
* * *
Burned, ancient vines were killed once again as Soal crossed over them, and natural terrain gave way to the harbor of Sogbury. The gaps sitting between the wooden boards of the various piers were just wide enough through which to lose a coin in the putrid waters of this coastal area, and the hardly functioning steamboats that occupied Sogbury bobbed in the tides, their balance at some times stabler than others.
Gnat was visible scampering down a lengthy board from her finest vessel, beyond a horde of her own Thieves of Sogbury. "No worries, Hemingway, I'm coming," she cupped her mouth to convey a message without turning to lock eyes along the way. She especially seemed to be avoiding eye contact with Hemingway himself. In the blink of a Fviron's eye, she stood before the trio, two of her most trusted guards standing adjacently.
"So, Master Bringer, you're back!" she exclaimed. "And with so much less uproar this time, much to my pleasure. However, the suspense has been flowing all of these months. What are they doing this time?"
As Hemingway opened his mouth to speak, Irene had had enough. She needed to speak for herself. "To meet the Ambassador, who may grant us the powers that the Kridger-Fountains was supposed to."
"Ah, well, I suppose she has summarized our role this time," Hemingway concluded before he could begin to prattle away in his own sophisticated speech. "Natasha, although you remain in resistance to my truths, please believe me when I tell you that you will be of importance in this mission."
"I may believe you regarding the Kurst thing," Gnat continued to keep her eyes from Hemingway, as he did the same. "but my involvement in the Crusade has never happened, and will never happen, especially now that Iv -- especially because of its poor leadership."
"Hmm...?" Hemingway considered. "Well, you are coming with us, and if I say so, then it will be how things play out."
"I need to consult my people," Gnat turned her back and began to stroll back to the security and company of her "people". Soal and Irene glanced and Hemingway as one, questioning his current thoughts.
"Natasha, to follow their guidance is your only duty," the pseudo-Sulukridger called out repeatedly until the tune caught on with Gnat's two bodyguards.
"Natasha, to follow their guidance is your only duty," each of them insisted monotonously and continuously, the words ripped straight from Hemingway's own. Gnat, baffled and fearful, turned her attention now to the crowd of her own gathered on the deck of her prized Sogburian steamboat, all chanting the identical words down to her.
Defeated, Gnat left behind the brainwashed Thieves of Sogbury to reluctantly assist Hemingway and his two greatly suspicious trainees on their quest.
YOU ARE READING
The Sketch Rift: The Eternal Crusade
Fantasía{Book Two in the Sketch Rift Trilogy} Samuel Lawrence, or Soal, is revolted by the mere premise of returning to the bleak metropolis of Hendera. But these hopes are laid to rest when sentinels of the enigmatic Charles Hemingway draw his reentr...
