Den of Stars. Christopher Byford

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СКАЧАТЬ tumbler ran empty. The night air was humid, filled with a multitude of insects, scores of which decided that the man would make the perfect meal. The night chorus of life was a far departure from the Sand Sea, where mammals silently prowled beneath the blazing moon. Here in the grasslands, things were considerably different. The thickly dressed redwood trees that surrounded them were borderline claustrophobic, hiding all manner of alien creatures that yelped and squealed.

       In the Sand Sea, one could look in any direction and see for untold miles. Over the border in Eifera you’d be fortunate to see a single mile down the track, let alone your entire surroundings. It was a good deal colder than they were used to, though tonight was an exception and was stifling, mainly due to the uncomfortable humidity, forcing him to sit shirtless. An owl called out, silencing the panicked screech of something in the forest.

       Franco laid cards out before him in lines. Solitaire wasn’t a particular favourite of his, but it wasn’t as if he was concentrating much on the game in hand. A small notebook beside him was half-filled, its pages briefly added to in between turns when inspiration struck. He had done this for the last week since the ideas to further the business had become stagnant. The pages were laden with thoughts on performances, concepts for decorations, lighting, music, design, all of the specifics that one needed to worry about in achieving what the Morning Star was destined to.

       Misu staggered through the carriage, her black silk robe loosely tied over one hip, hands rubbing at her eyes. She slumped in the seat opposite, tossing her head back in annoyance. Franco slid over his bottle of spiced rum, filled his tumbler halfway and passed it over. Misu caressed it, taking the occasional sip.

       ‘Can’t you sleep?’ Franco asked, slipping a red seven of hearts between two black suited cards of ascending and descending value to the one he had included. He ignored her pointing to the half open window beside him.

       ‘It’s too noisy. How can decent people get any rest out here with that sort of racket? It’s like someone filling a bin with coins. This damn heat too,’ Misu whined, her fingers now violently scratching through unkempt hair. ‘My kingdom for some sleep. Or your kingdom. I would sacrifice every one of these pretty carriages for some shut-eye. Just so you know how desperate I am on that front.’

       ‘It’s hotter in the Sand Sea.’

       ‘Yes but it’s so humid out here. I feel like I’m turning into water! You best put a jug underneath me in case I melt for good.’

       Franco snorted. ‘It’s too hot for that sort of effort. If the unfortunate event occurs I’ll fetch the mop. You have my word.’

       ‘Funny, funny bastard.’ She smirked, fanning herself. Her eyes drifted to his game.

       ‘That’s new. What is it?’

       ‘Solitaire. Some people call it patience.’ Franco shimmied a card from one stack to another.

       ‘It looks boring,’ Misu dismissed, wiping her brow before fanning herself with Franco’s notebook.

       ‘On the contrary. Like its namesake it teaches patience and focus. Most of all, though, it pitches you against the greatest opponent you’ll ever face off against.’

       ‘Which is …?’

       Franco married a red-suited ace into a line for completion.

       ‘Yourself,’ he stated, finally taking his eyes from the table and watching her wave his notebook back and forth for relief. ‘People weave in and out of a person’s existence. Roles change. A friend can become a nemesis in the blink of an eye. Many believe that your greatest competitor is the one inside. I happen to subscribe to that notion. If you can overcome yourself, then you can take on the world. Also, I need that.’

       ‘I bet you do.’ She passed the notebook back over, keeping her cheeky smile. ‘For keeping track of your genius no doubt. How long are we up north for? The views are pretty but among getting bitten to pieces by the insects and enduring it raining half the time, its charm is seriously waning. Not that the alone time with you isn’t joyous.’

       Franco leant back from his game, quite done with staring at card faces for this evening. ‘We can’t go back as we are. The Gambler’s Den was far too well known and if we just try and perform like nothing’s changed, it’s going to be pretty obvious that you and I, for all intents and purposes, didn’t die. Even your change of hair colour won’t be able to sway that. And that’s the crux of it all.’

       He leant forward, sterner, the words quite weighty with seriousness.

       ‘Wilheim Fort is out there. If it’s all the same I would like him to continue thinking that we are bones in the sand. If he ever thought differently, there’s a chance –’

       ‘There’s no guesswork here,’ Misu interrupted, now just as serious. Her fingers skimmed the glass lip in circles. ‘He would come for us. He would hunt us down. Be relentless. He’ll do things that you couldn’t possibly imagine.’

       ‘You think so?’

       ‘I know so. I was the one who carried those punishments out at times. People who wronged him simply didn’t expect the angle he came from. Friends, family, acquaintances … He’ll know them and he’ll exploit them. They’ll be broken. Then, finally, you’ll be left to rot as an example to others.’

       She suddenly blinked in horror, as if quite surprised at her candid confession, a mixture of the alcohol and sleep deprivation loosening her lips.

       ‘It’s okay,’ Franco stated, swigging again and feeling the light breeze that wafted through the window. ‘We’ve all done things we regret. We change. You’ve changed, clearly. I figure there’s a difference between who a person was and who they are in the present if they desire to change. You’re not that person now, are you?’

      * * *

       ‘Not at all.’ Her eyes scrunched to a close. She was unsure whether this was even the truth. But it sounded good. It sounded like what needed to be said at this time.

       ‘There you go then.’

       Misu paused before speaking what was next on her mind, wondering if it overstepped the mark. She did so anyway, seeing as they had come this far. What was the worst that could happen?

       ‘Did the thought ever go through your head – and I’m not suggesting anything; I’m just discussing the possibility … You have the train, some money. You don’t have to do the show is what I’m getting at. You could go off and live your life away from the limelight. You have an entirely new one to live, one you’ve earned, free from people like Wilheim doing the things that people like him do. Sometimes I struggle to understand why you would want to jeopardize that. Did you ever consider cashing in this second chance? Leaving all this behind?’

       Franco narrowed his eyes and drank again, heavily. ‘Let me answer your question with a question,’ he replied, wagging the bottle. ‘After what happened, why are you still here, with me, aboard this here train? The way I see it you have СКАЧАТЬ