Silver Winds

Chapter 4

"A lie is just the truth waiting to be itself." -Terri Guillemets

Astra's fingers drummed against her thigh without a single sound. Volos stared at Fergusen, his jaw clenched and his icy eyes filled with concentration. Fergusen stared back, looking at Volos' eyes without reserve. Astra thought it was a waste of time, what they were doing. She slid off her stool and dropped to the floor, her feet and arms holding her body just above the floor. Then she began doing push-ups. She felt as though she would go crazy if no one did anything productive.

The house of Jarl Fergusen was incredibly luxurious, by Illiquan standards. Its firepit was carved out of the wall, and a large tapestry was hung on the southern wall. The tapestry was beautiful, depicting an epic battle of the old days. A great man stood in the center, raising his sword above his head, but Astra could see some archers in the back. They weren't shown as being as important as any of the swordsmen, of course, but they still looked like they were playing a crucial role in the battle. Astra focused on the archer in the top right corner as she finished her twenty-fifth push-up.

"Are you finished yet?" Astra groaned, looking up at Volos. His eyes darted toward her on instinct, then he pushed his palm to his forehead.

"Astor, I lost," he complained. Astra looked over to Fergusen, who was sporting a huge smile. He leaned forward to force Volos' eyes back to him.

"You can't beat someone who's been doing this for years, boy. This is my game, in my house," he said. Astra's eyebrows scrunched together. It hadn't been apparent to her that they were playing any game. They just seemed like they were staring at each other. Astra made a note to ask Volos what this game was about later by digging a nail into her opposite hand until a small trickle of blood flowed out. She flinched and bit the inside of her cheek as pain spread throughout her entire left hand.

"We should do that paperwork you mentioned," Volos muttered, biting his lip. He was clearly upset that he had lost. Fergusen's smile faded.

"Right. . . . I'll go get it. You haven't had public records before this, have you, by any chance at all?" His tone was hopeful, his eyes unusually wide. Even the scar didn't seem threatening, with the way he had been acting. Volos tapped his chin, seeming to be deep in thought.

"Nope," he grunted. Fergusen sighed, his enormous chest heaving. His scar crinkled.

"I thought not," he replied, then began to leave the room. Astra scrambled to her feet, the realization striking her like lightning.

"Wait!" she called. Fergusen turned, his eyebrows raised.

"What?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest. Astra opened her mouth, then closed it when she felt a small kick against her shins. Volos reached over and grabbed her hand and squeezed painfully.

"N-nothing, sorry," she muttered, sitting back down and sinking out of his sight. She looked at the hand Volos had squeezed. It was the same one she had punctured earlier, and due to his squeezing, was now flowing all over her hand. It flowed down her arm, and Astra tried to find something to wipe it on, or hold on her hand so the blood would stop.

Once she heard Fergusen move into the other room, she glared up at her brother, revealing her hand to him. "Look at this! It wasn't this bad before!" she wailed, but keeping her voice down enough that she didn't attract any unwanted attention. Volos' brow furrowed as he took his sister's hand and held it up to his face, dragging her into a standing position.

"This looks like a human scratch. . . . Where did you get it?" he questioned, examining it more closely. "There's no way I did this to you. I might have made it worse, though."

Astra gritted her teeth as he removed a strip of cloth from inside his bag and wrapped it around her hand.

"I was trying to remember something," she growled. "I didn't expect for you to do that. Why? I was just going to tell him we have papers from when we moved."