A huge Tale of the Navel was inspired, involving Damian Ashelocke. I posted the first part last week. Picking up right where we left off, here's the next part...
Juno guided Damian through the stuffy warm of narrow aisles, looming shelves, and dim candlelight. Every tiny flame reflected off the gleaming metal statue perched on the counter.
To Damian, it was like a nightmare come to life. It had the same head as the bird in the window, rendered in tarnished metal. The head was attached with steel feathered neck to a muscular human torso with ample breasts. Giant wings stretched out of its forearms. Feathers stuck out of its legs, which ended in claws, crushing the stiff remains of what might have been an eggshell.
Juno gazed at the statue, mouth hanging open. For the first time, she was at a complete loss for words.
“What came first, the chicken or the egg?” Gabrielle’s voice floated out from the darkness behind the counter. “That is the question.”
As if to punctuate that question, an enormous brown hen, all angry beak and open wings perched upon Gabrielle’s hat, which might have once been a top hat. ‘Brie wore a long brown vest over a loose, long sleeved white tunic. Her full skirts matched the hen’s feathers perfectly.
The chicken itself sparkled. Its feathers were covered with sequins.
“‘Brie, dear.” Juno regained her voice. “What is all this?”
“This, my dear Juno, is me taking your advice.” ‘Brie spun around in a surprisingly graceful pirouette in spite of the poultry. “I’m expressing a touch of me, previously missing in the Navel.”
Gabrielle stopped twirling to offer the statue a bow. “Isn’t she exquisitely bizarre?”
“Err, well, she is bizarre, for sure, dear.” Juno glanced at the statue, only to look down with flushed cheeks. “Exactly how is this, well, you?”
“Why, it’s a paradox, isn’t it?” Gabrielle beamed at Juno, delighting in the question. “Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Some may find the question silly unless they examine it any depth.” ‘Brie grinned and rubbed her hands together. “Rather like the Navel and myself.”
“Ah, yes. I see what you mean, dear.” It was obvious from Juno’s wrinkled nose that she didn’t or didn’t care to. “While you were getting in touch with you, err, fowl side, your lovely boy here got chilled, wandering about at night. I fear he has a fever.”
“What?” All levity left ‘Brie. She leaned forward to eye Damian, moving to his side. “I didn’t think you could get sick.”
“I didn’t either.” Damian attempted to smile and failed. “Guess there’s still a lot for me to learn.”
Gabrielle’s hand shot out to cover his forehead. Unlike Juno’s, her touch was light and sure. “You’re burning up.”
“Not so much.” ‘Brie’s fingers seemed to absorb some of the heat, bringing him down to something cool and reasonable. The counter, Juno, and the statue all became more solid and focused.
A shame about the statue. It appeared even more menacing when his fever cooled.
“If you’re going to look after a delicate sweetmeat like this, ‘Brie, you should truly look after him.” Juno waved a finger with some severity at Damian’s master. “It’s quite careless of you, allowing him to wander around by himself. Someone might steal him away.”
For a moment, a predatory gleam sparkled in Juno’s eyes. It was similar to the look his aunt got when she found a prospective Valentine, or how Vanessa always looked at him.
If Juno wasn’t an arachnocrat, she was something very like one.
Gabrielle was not. She raised an eyebrow at Juno, removing her hand from Damian’s forehead.
“I don’t allow Damian to do anything.” ‘Brie’s gaze were bright, blue, and clear, filled with a quiet pride which made Damian’s chest ache.
There she was. This was the woman he’d chosen to leave his aunt for. This was the master he’d decided to serve.
“He makes his own choices while under this roof and living in Omphalos.” Gabrielle cocked her head, a small smile playing about her lips. “I just hope he’ll show some consideration for my feelings when he does.” She fixed her cerulean gaze upon him. “I worry when you stay out in the cold and catch a fever.”
Damian dropped his head, unable to face the anxiety within those blue orbs.
“Such an odd idea! Well, I’ve said what meant to say, dear. I shan’t bother you since Damian needs to rest and recover.” Juno pivoted toward the door, nearly knocking over a box on one of the shelves.
“Only remember this.” She arched her double neck to regard both of them. “A boy like Damian Ashelocke always has someone keeping an eye on him. Since you’ve involved yourself in his life, they’re now watching you.” One of the wrinkles on her face quivered. “Take care, my dear.”
With that warning, Juno waddled toward the door, opened it, setting the door chimes to tingling once more. They continued to ring after she’d departed.
“Well, ‘dear’, you’ve just met one of our regulars.” ‘Brie heaved a sigh and lifted a hand to scratch the chicken’s claw on her hat. “Happily she seems to have taken a liking to you.”
“I’m not sure if the feeling is mutual,” Damian muttered, delighting in being able to shape his words in a more coherent fashion. Whatever daze he’d been in, ‘Brie had drawn it out of him with her magical fingers.
“Just smile at her.” ‘Brie dropped her hand to smooth the front of his black vest. “A smile is a powerful weapon, capable of confusing and distracting the most grabby of customers. Looking troubled may only encourage her to pinch your cheeks and hug you.”
“While I might stop her in her tracks with a smile.” Damian considered her words. “Thank you, master.”
“You don’t need to call me master. ‘Brie is fine.” Gabrielle withdrew her hand. “Yes, it should stop any unwelcome touching and fondling.” She raised an eyebrow. “Unless it isn’t unwelcome.”
“It is. Unwelcome, that is.” Damian shivered. “I think she may be a spy for my aunt.”
“She might be,’ ‘Brie agreed, sounding completely unsurprised by this idea. “All the more reason to keep all eyes on her, while keeping her at a distance.”
“I doubt nothing will succeed in keeping her at a distance than these…chickens.” Damian tried to keep the revulsion out of his voice and failed. “Not to mention any other customers.”
“Don’t you like them?” Gabrielle sounded a bit aggrieved. “They liven the place up like nothing else.”
“Liven up is not how I’d describe the effect they have.” Damian eyed the metal monstrosity once more. “They’re just plain disturbing.”
“Oh, good!” ‘Brie grinned at him. “Something that disturbs arachnocrats could be very useful if you truly want to keep your aunt at a distance.”
She had a point. This made Damian give the chicken statue a considering glance.
It appeared to leer at him, while still menacing with its beak.
No. An alliance with this thing, even against Duessa would never work.
“You’re forgetting that I’m an arachnocrat,” he grumbled, looking down at his feet.
“Not anymore.” Gabrielle winked at him. “Is that the entire point to you’re being with me?”
Damian couldn’t answer.
Yes, it was. At the same time, it wasn’t.
He was with ‘Brie to learn. It was the next step of a journey he was taking, one he never thought he dared to take.
At first, he’d thought he’d serve the power he’d seen within her, worship it, do whatever he could to reflect it.
A daring, almost unheard of ambition was taking shape in his heart, one he didn’t dare admit, not even to himself.
To nourish his own light. To feed it. To let it grow.
Ashelockes never used light. They were weavers of web, darkness, and shadow, taking pride in their sinister deeds. For an Ashelocke to use light was perverse, obscene.
Only Damian was no longer an Ashelocke. Here he had a chance to decide for himself what his future would be.
Only Duessa might be watching his every move, through this regular customer he’d just met.
If he wanted to truly try this deviant notion, he’d need to go somewhere out of Duessa’s reach.
Somewhere beyond the Door.
Poultry. ~shakes head~ This is awesome, my dear. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDelete