The Balance (First Draft | Discontinued)

Chapter 19 (Ari): Part One

Ari sat ensconced in the small, winged armchair that he'd moved in front of the window, the warm glow of the rising sun shining onto the sketchbook in his lap. The pencil tip left faint flecks of grey on the page as he shaded in the mountains in the distance, beyond the grey-blue expanse of Kaltvannbukta. Drawing in this sort of light was always difficult, but he enjoyed the challenge of it even if he wasn't very good at it yet. Using his finger, he smudged the pencil markings until the mountains were a smoky gunpowder color all the way through.

The wood floor creaked behind him, and he shot bolt upright in his chair, pencil rolling off his sketchbook and falling to the floor with a short patter. Everything blurred to a single point and his grip on the arms of the chair strengthened until he could feel the wood frame underneath. His mother had impressed upon him for years what to do if he even thought he was in danger, but everything she'd said faded out of his mind and left only blank space behind.

"Ari."

That voice— familiar. All the tension drained from his body and he slumped back into his chair. Making no move to retrieve the pencil, he said, "You... you, how did you get in here?"

His father came around to face him, figure tenebrous and almost hazy at the edges from the sun's light filtering in behind him. "I used the passages." He gestured back to the right toward the bookshelf, whose two halves swung out silently to act as doors.

Ari's mouth dropped open. "But... how?"

His mother had told him that if, for any reason, he ever felt as if he were vulnerable, to escape through those tunnels and find safety. But how safe was it now? How many people besides his father knew where they were and where they led?

While Ari sat motionless, still shocked at his father's blasé divulgence that he knew the passages well enough to sneak into his room, his father pulled over another chair beside his and settled down, folding his hands in his lap.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to scare you. But I must ask, what would you have done if I were a person of ill intentions?"

"What?" He just crept in here, and now he wants to know how I would have reacted if he'd been a killer? "Well, run, I guess."

"An adult can run much faster than you can."

"Call for my guards?"

His father chuckled. "Ari, it doesn't take much to bribe a guard, and even in the case that they refuse the money, it wouldn't be difficult to kill them if there were numbers enough to overwhelm whatever physical skill they have."

"Then what?"

"Guilt," he said simply. "Oh, guilt is one of the most potent weapons you can use against someone."

Ari wondered how many times his father had used that particular weapon. "But then, won't they know I'm...?"

"Not necessarily. Feeling guilt during the attempted murder of a boy, even a sudden surge of it... well, even if they recognize what you are, I'd rather you hit them hard with it and get away. Your life is more important than your crown. But if you'd like, I can teach you subtlety."

He perked up a little. "Is that why you're here?"

His father shook his head. "Not today, I haven't the time. There's a council meeting soon. I simply came to tell you that this is a safer way to speak, now that I've discovered how— since Pevnost Dukovníka, it's been a safe habit to always look for a way out, and my search has led me here."