A Surprising Spring

Chapter Six

Those who sat at the High Table were rarely seen outside of their room - not by the likes of Zekiel, anyway. If he was needed, he was summoned. Otherwise, they were an enigma. Zekiel thought of them as a collective, rather than individuals; a swarm in white robes, their fingers twisting in the air and determining the fates of hundreds.

They creeped the hell out of him, not that he'd ever let it show.

So it was surprising when he started to see them separately, wondering the halls amongst the Messengers. The first time, he didn't even recognise the figure who stood at the end of the corridor. He recognised them, screwed up his face in thought, and then they were gone, as suddenly as they appeared.

The second time, Zekiel was walking back from bathing and he passed one face-to-face. He knew them, turned with a question on his tongue - but they had disappeared.

The third and fourth time, he decided it was getting ridiculous.

By the sixth, he started to peer around corners, wondering if he'd spot them all lying in wait for him.

When it got to the eighth member of the High Table, he started to get freaked out. That was all of them, all eight - of the main table anyway. Perhaps he was simply overreacting, he told himself; after all, they did live there. Maybe they were always walking about, he'd just suddenly started to notice them.

"Yeah, right," he scoffed under his breath as he sat in a deep bath filled with hot steaming water. He closed his eyes, trying to enjoy the warmth, but he couldn't shake the feeling that had been nagging him for the past few days. They wanted something with him. Seeing all eight members of the High Table within five days wasn't normal, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself.

It scared him. It scared him that it could be about Nicholas. It scared him that it scared him that it could be about Nicholas. He groaned, tilting his head backwards until it rested against the tiles that surrounded the huge sunk-in tubs.

"Everything alright?" said a voice behind him, and he opened his eyes to see Bastien, another messenger and someone Zekiel supposed he could call a friend, standing by the doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist.

Zekiel sighed. "Yes, of course."

Bastien grinned, his teeth glowing through the steam that filled the room. "Or would you rather I left you alone? Having a little Zeke time in the water, are you?"

The Messenger rolled his eyes. "Just thinking, and Bastien, please don't call me Zeke."

Bastien hung his towel up and slid into the water, resting a couple of metres away from Zekiel. "You need to lighten up a bit more. At least you've dropped that rhyming thing you had going for a while."

Zekiel blushed, but hoped that his dark skin hid it from the other Messenger. "I was only taking my job seriously."

"Yeah, whatever. I don't mean to be harsh, but you sounded ridiculous. Why did you stop anyway? Suddenly decide that you're not five hundred years old and in a play?"

Zekiel looked away. "I'm pretty close to five hundred."

"Don't be stupid," Bastien shook his head. "You're not even half-way there yet." He yawned, sinking deeper into the water. "The warmth in here always makes me so sleepy."

They sat for a moment in companionable silence, Zekiel trying to clear his head of the worries that had been swarming around his thoughts before he had been interrupted.

"Anyway," Bastien spoke up, his voice curious. "You didn't tell me why you were so sighy when I came in."

"Sighy?"

The fair-haired Messenger shrugged, though Zekiel didn't see him, looking away as he was. "You did sound a bit like you were carrying the woes of the world upon your shoulders. Or at least the woes of a small country."

Zekiel bit his lip, and decided to confide a little in his friend. "I've just been a little... confused."

"Confused, huh?" Bastien laughed. "That sounds like something I should know about if I'm sitting naked in a tub of hot water with you. Who knows what you're thinking."

"Not like that." Zekiel ran a hand through his short hair, shutting his eyes. "I've been... seeing the High Table a lot."

Bastien's voice turned serious. "What, are you in trouble?"

His friend shook his head. "No, that's the thing, I've been seeing them just around. In the corridors, that kind of thing. I don't suppose you've noticed..." he trailed off, looking hopefully over at the other Messenger.

"Nah, sorry. I never see them away from their Room of Important Decisions or whatever it's really called."

"I don't think it's got a name," Zekiel mused, hoping that Bastien would be satisfied with his answer and stop questioning him.

Bastien shrugged. "You would know. Now, are you sure there's not anything else?"

Zekiel contemplated sinking completely into the water to avoid his friend's nosiness. He groaned. "I'm not a hormonal thirteen-year-old girl, Bastien. I can sort myself out."

The other Messenger held his hands up protectively. "Woah, no need to bite my head off. I was just asking."

There was a pause, heavy with more than the steam that swirled around their heads.

"Well..." Zekiel started, gnawing on his lip in a show of nervousness that he would never normally display. "I mean I had a fight with my Sprite," he spat out, his words running together.

Once Bastien had figured out what he said, he smirked, but quickly tried to sound normal. "Oh?"

Zekiel shrugged, his dark eyes flitting about the room. "Yeah, nothing serious, I suppose. He's just..."

"He's just...?"

"He thinks I'm trying to control him." Zekiel swallowed, and Bastien saw a strange expression on his face. "He's just met his mate, you know, and he's acting like a petulant child about it."

After a moment, Bastien asked: "And are you trying to control him?"

Zekiel snapped his head around to look at the other Messenger, his eyes wide. "Of course not! I'm just helping him on his way, telling him what's going on. That's my job, and unlike some, I do actually try to do what I'm supposed to do."

Bastien raised his eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

"Well," Zekiel said, standing up on the bench he'd been sat on and getting out of the tub. "I'll be on my way." He pulled his towel from a hook and tied it around his waist.

He was almost at the door when Bastien called out. "Zekiel?"

"Yeah?"

There was a pause. "Be honest with yourself."