X. Together Again

Flikka woke up in her room in the planar sphere, and felt herself sandwiched by two warm bodies. Buccaneer yawned and jumped off the bed as she stirred, but Gavin was still asleep. With a contented smile, Flikka got up.

How about the brown today, Flikka? Huh, huh?

Absolutely not. I don’t know how you managed to talk me into getting a brown robe, anyway.

It matches my fur.

Brown mage robes? No.

Alright. Buck sounded disappointed. But if you don’t wear the brown, do I get some bread? Please? Pretty please with bread pudding on top?

Flikka laughed. You know, for being my familiar, you sound an awful lot like Immy. As soon as she thought it, she felt a pang. Imoen hadn’t been gone for long, but it felt like forever.

Buck was silent for a moment. You know, you don’t have to wear the brown if you don’t want to.

I know. But I will. For . . . for you, Buck. And for Immy . . . I think I’ll wear that pink sash she gave me for my birth-day last year.

Brown and pink don’t go well together. And pink is an icky color by itself, anyway.

Drop it. I’ll give you bread when I get breakfast.

Ooh! Breadbreadbreadbreadbread!

Buck bolted out of the room, racing up and down the halls toward the dining room.

---

Gavin was mildly ill, so excluding the priest of Talos, the party heading out of the sphere was ready for action, though there had been none for some time. They decided to explore the city further, and sniff around for work.

By noon, they were parched, and the next tavern they passed was just beside the city gates. It was called the Crooked Crane, and they had never seen its inside before, so they headed in for a drink. The general noise of a tavern met their ears, as did more unusual things.

“They’re breaking up!” a nobleman in the corner yelled, pointing to a headline on the newspaper he was brandishing. “Tell your neighbors! Aulava and Tiiro! It finally happened!”

“Would you cease your screaming?!” Flikka yelled back moodily. “You’re not helping my nerves any with all your caterwauling!”

“You are not from here if you are not excited by my words,” the nobleman said breathlessly.

“If something underhanded is going on, the Order must know of it,” Anomen said. “Or perhaps, we could help.” Keldorn solemnly nodded agreement.

The previously excited nobleman suddenly became upset. “Don’t you go meddling! We don’t need any strangers going near them! It’s the best thing for them and for their families if they stop seeing each other.”

“Ahh, the romance that has rivaling families at each other’s throats,” Flikka chuckled dryly as she pulled a stool up to the bar. “How classic.”

“They’re good kids, just misguided,” the nobleman insisted. “You stay out of it. It would be a shame to involve the guards in this, especially since that incident with the Greens. You - stay - out of it.” He turned and left the tavern, mumbling about ‘stupid northern adventurers.’

“You realize, darthiir, that this is another one of those problems that will begin innocently and escalate into a web of lies that will end up getting your abbil killed, do you not?” Viconia said.

“You know, Flikka, this reminds me of that time, waaaay back, when my cousin Rumi Jansen fell for her mother’s sister’s sister-in-law’s friend’s son, named Julio,” Jan began. “And let me tell you, their families were all for it, ya know? So Rumi and Julio were on their way to the altar when a gnomish priest of Cyric --- I believe his name was Tiax --- ran up the aisle yelling, ‘The great Tiax objects! He will rule all someday, so you’d better listen to him, or else he will strike you down with his mighty Cyrican power!’”

Viconia moaned slightly and called for a glass of wine, only to find the Crooked Crane served only beer and ale.

“So THEN, Rumi and Julio had to put off their wedding for another year. And during that time, Rumi found out that her mother’s sister’s sister-in-law’s friend was really a griffin, and so did the rest of the family, and they turned against each other.”

“Yinglil,” Flikka said to Jan condescendingly, flashing a grin to Viconia for teaching her the word, “do the world a favor and shut up.”

Jan ignored her. “So while their families were busy killing each other off, Rumi and Julio ran away together and ended up killing themselves in a suicide-murder.”

“Oh, how very sad,” Flikka said sarcastically. “Now give my poor, three-quarters elven ears a rest!”

“Why did they do that?” Keldorn asked. He received glares from the rest of his party, and the very large dog curled up at his feet growled menacingly.

“Oh, because Julio found Rumi kissing the woman he was having an affair with.”

“Two women kissing?” Anomen asked with a stricken look on his face.

“You have to realize that I use the term ‘kissing’ very loosely in this context,” Jan explained with a wink. “So there you have it, Keldy!”

Keldorn blinked. “Well. I walked into that one with both my eyes open.”

A series loud thumps shook the rickety tavern, and the patrons winced collectively as they glanced warily at the ceiling, obviously hoping it would hold.

Flikka decided this was the perfect time to go upstairs and see what all the fuss was about, and after Jan had tinkered with the lock, that’s exactly what they did.

A pair of teenagers was standing near the entrance to the balcony of the Crooked Crane. The boy was tall and scrawny, with a short sword strapped to his belt. He had brown hair that fell in a certain way across his neck, and he was grinning in a satisfied manner as he stomped on the floor, knowing those below were wondering what the heck was going on. The girl was snickering, her dark brown curls falling in her face, and her hazel eyes laughing with her. Several daggers were stashed on her person.

Anomen, Keldorn, Flikka, Buccaneer, Jan, and Viconia watched for awhile until the boy tired of this sport and the two sobered up. They seemed to be avoiding a certain topic in the little small talk they exchanged, and presently he brought it up.

“So, Aulava,” he said slowly. “That’s it, then?”

“Tiiro . . . I . . . I guess so,” she replied shakily. “Nobody wants us
together. Guess we shouldn’t be.”

“That’s what . . . my family says too. I didn’t think we did that bad. A few scrapes here and there . . . it was fun while it lasted,” Tiiro said. “I guess I have to settle down, though.”

“Yeah,” Aulava said wistfully. “Father said he can’t keep it quiet any longer. Don’t know what the fuss is about, though . . . all we did was get mad at each other . . .”

“. . . meet each other at midnight . . .”

“. . . go on a hayride . . .”

“. . . get abducted by pirates . . .”

“. . . kill my fiancé . . .”

“. . . kiss each other . . .”

“. . . get disowned . . . I mean, it’s not like it’s their lives,” Aulava said. “I guess they’re embarrassed.”

“Yeah . . . I guess,” Tiiro said. He glanced at the shadows and caught sight of Flikka and her friends. “Looks like we have an audience. Hey you! Get a portrait painted, it lasts longer!”

They emerged into the light. Flikka spoke first. “I’m Flikka. I heard about your families trying to split you up.”

“Word certainly gets around. Hear that, Aulava? We’re famous.”

“My father couldn’t keep it totally quiet. I like that. I feel important,” Aulava said.

“It is kind of interesting,” Tiiro said, arching an eyebrow. “What did you hear, Flikka? What are they saying?”

“Well, I heard an awful lot from this gnome, comparing you to his distant relatives, but other than that, I’ve heard that your parents disowned you for getting together,” Flikka said. “But it doesn’t really matter what they’re saying out there. Don’t listen to them. I haven’t. Love is all that matters in the end, anyway.” She remembered the priest. Her priest.

“Is it?” Tiiro asked doubtfully. “Is it all that matters? Even if you do things that others don’t approve of?”

“Things that they think are very bad, and try to cover up so people don’t find out?” Aulava added.

“The best people sometimes follow only their own laws,” Flikka quoted. She remembered when Gorion had first told her the very same thing. “Live the dream --- love!”

“Yeah,” Aulava agreed, thinking the idea over. “Yeah! Flikka is right!”

“You know, I think so too,” Tiiro said, nodding. “What do we care what others think? This life is too short to worry about it.”

“Wonderfully short, and getting shorter,” Aulava said, taking Tiiro’s hands in both of hers. “Damn them. Damn them all, let’s go for it!”

“You’re right, Aulava!” Tiiro cried. “Let’s make our time short and sweet! Like we planned! Larger-than-life!”

“Thanks, Flikka,” Aulava said, grinning. “We owe this all to you!”

“That’s right. Everything we do, we’ll dedicate it to you.”

“Absolutely,” Aulava agreed. “Damn the parents; we’ll let people know what a stranger has done for us!”

Flikka was grinning by now, and Buck was wagging his tail. “Hey, wait,” Flikka called before the couple headed down the stairs. “Before you go, come visit me in the sphere in the Slums. The password is ‘lasta lalaithamin.’

“Will do. C’mon, Tiiro!” Aulava said, and they clambered noisily down the stairs.

---

“Hey you,” Tiiro called to Maunu. “Stableman!”

“Yeah?” Maunu said, raising his head.

“When you’re all done drinking here, you can go back to the Memokar estate and tell them that I’m never coming back!”

Maunu swallowed and shook his head. “I en’t drinking. I’m *imbibing*.”

“Yeah, well, imbibe all you want, I don’t care! Just tell them!” Laughing, Aulava and Tiiro ran out of the tavern.

The young couple linked hands as they passed through Athkatla’s gate, and for the first time they felt really, truly free.

THE END