Chapter 296: Chapter 291: Shoes I Walked More Than Once

There was still a chance that Rayden would say no to such a crazy idea. Not much of a chance, but a chance nevertheless. After all, I was only a part-time city guard, not really a guardswoman, there to satisfy the higher-ups in Wagonbrei and for my own benefits. So . . .

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Someone had their eyes on me.

But when I shot a glance at the side alley we passed, there was no one there except for a few rats.

“Little Beast?”

“Someone had eyes on me.”

“It could be Sah.”

The Imperial Agent bid us farewell as soon as we entered Castiana and disappeared into the shadows of the buildings. By no means did it mean that he left us there to our own devices, though . . . “No, it wasn’t him.”

“You can tell the difference?”

“Sort of . . . he follows me all the time.”

Deckard smiled knowingly, not missing an opportunity to take a crack at me. “You know his scent, so to speak.”

“Literally,” I admitted, returning his foolish smirk. “Yours, too.”

“I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Even if you did, I wouldn’t know how to describe it.” Humans had their distinctive scent, as did terrans, animals, and beasts. Each individual differed even more . . . “Shit!”

Confusing Deckard with my sudden cursing, I made a beeline back to the alley. A narrow passage between two buildings, a fabric store and a sewing supply shop. But to my dismay, after taking a whiff of the smell, all I got was a sudden urge to throw up. 

Whoever had been here, and I was sure someone had been watching me from this spot, was long gone, their lingering smell drowned out by a mixture of rotting vegetables, urine, and who knows what else - so much for cleaner streets.

I know. Not fair to take out my frustration over this one dirty back alley on City Hall when the streets of Castiana itself were cleaner. Tits, barefoot walkers were to be found even among the common folk. 

Unfortunately, the cleanliness did not extend to all places, yet.

»Hey you, come here.«

*Squeak* »Lady.« *Squeak*

The dirty, smelly rat instinctively shivered in my presence - not my intention. In fact, it made me feel a bit bad, but I didn’t have time to be nice.

»Was anyone here just now?«

»You, lady.« *Squeak*

»And before me?«

*Squeak* »Human.«

»Can you describe this human?«

*Squeak* »Human - human.« *Squeak*

Frustrating. »Male or female?«

»Male - human, lady.« *Squeak*

»Big or small?«

*Squeak* »Humans big.«

Chewing my lower lip, I swallowed a sigh. It was more than obvious that I wouldn’t get any more out of the little rodent. »Thanks. You can go.«

*Squeak, squeak* All too happily, the rat disappeared into a pile of garbage in the alley.

“Did you get anything out of it?” Deckard asked, waiting, leaning against a building at the entrance to the alley.

“Just that there was actually someone there. A man, a human.”

“Nothing then.”

“Yeah.” As frustrating as it was, I had nothing. Whoever was watching me could be anyone. A thief looking for an easy pickpocket, a drunk looking for women to bang, a scout from a company with reasons unknown to me, a minion of mind mages trying to make a report, or a dragon disguised as a human deciding whether to destroy me and the city. No pressure, huh?

“So, what are your plans?”

The question caught me off guard. I didn’t have any. “I was thinking about coming with you.”

“To the Wet Hare? I didn’t think you were the type.”

“The type for what? What is the Wet Hare?”

“The type that enjoys that kind of service. The Wet Hare is a bathhouse.”

Sniffing my armpit, I deemed that I could use a visit to one myself. The day of training had taken its toll on my smell, but considering the state of my coin purse - I didn’t even have one - it looked more like I would be using the free spartan services at the barracks again. The bathrooms there weren’t that bad, far from it. You got the job done there, yet . . . a visit to a dedicated bathhouse, with the proper care that went with it, sounded very tempting.

“You should hear the rest before you start making puppy eyes at me.”

“Well?”

“You see . . .”

The Wet Hare turned out to be basically a brothel where you got washed by a companion or more, depending on your wishes. “I don’t mind you coming along. You’d get your own bathroom, of course, but . . .” 

Considering the offer for a moment, I settled on the barracks.

“No. I am good. I mean - I’ll wash later.” Being bathed by a man, maybe even two, was pretty hard for me to imagine right now. Many reasons for that, some bordering on being a chickenshit pussy when it came to such unusual experiences.

“As you wish, Little Beast,” Deckard shrugged, not surprised by my answer. “Any thoughts on what YOU might do?”

“I guess no more training today?”

“Look, I’m not the finest one to tell you that you need to find a moment to rest as well. I kind of lost it when you disappeared in Fallen’s Cry, but . . . you should find a moment for yourself. You need it. I know I do.”

That was hard to deny. Equally hard to ignore was the itch - the restlessness bubbling under my skin. Due to my experience in the Echo, I was simply too used to doing my best every day with the goal of returning to, well, here.

That goal was now gone, though. I was at a loss as to what to do. Returning to Earth, to my family, was still at the top of my to-do list. Yet . . . the way to get there wasn’t as clear as it was in the heart of Fallen’s Cry.

“I’m thinking of going to the library. I owe Mr. Sandoval an apology.”

“. . . and you’re curious about the beast,” Deckard added, seeing right through me. Worse, the smugness in his voice, the teasing, the bastard knew the origin of my ear mutation and never bothered to bring it up.

“You wouldn’t . . . if you were in my shoes?”

“What shoes?”

“Funny. Anyway, yes, I’m curious. I might finally find out what the potential of my ears is.”

“Hearing several times better than us mere humans isn’t enough for you?”

“You know what I mean.”

Deckard laughed. “Yes, another odd ability on the horizon.”

“Do the beasts have one of those?” Curiosity got the better of me.

“I’ll let Sandoval tell you. Say hello to the old man for me, Little Beast. I’m gonna take that bath.”

Not really keen on standing alone in the middle of a busy street looking like a complete twat, let alone thinking about Deckard’s adventures in Wet Hare, I made my way to the Old Library.

***

The small doorbell rang softly as the massive wooden door creaked open - all too familiar, playing to my heart’s tune. What brought tears to my eyes, however, was the sight of the library’s interior. Nothing had changed here. The incredible silence still reigned inside, and the library itself looked like something out of a storybook, messy at first glance, but tidy nonetheless. 

In fact, when I looked a little harder, the place felt tidier than I remembered.

Hazel’s work, if I had to guess.

“That look never gets old,” Mr. Sandoval’s voice came from the bookshelves. “Just like the one you had the first time you stepped through the doors of this library.”

“Well, if this place never changes, I don’t think my wonder will ever go away. Good to see you on your feet, Mr. Sandoval,” I said as gently as I could, the apology already heavily behind my words. In a few short strides, I reached the old man and lowered my head, wings as well, and tucked my tail between my legs. “I’m so sorry .  . . I never meant to hurt you.”

“And you didn’t, Miss Grey.”

“But . . .”

“I’ll stop you there. All that happened was that I fainted.”

“Even so . . . it could have been much worse. A heart attack.”

He smiled and rubbed his gray beard. “Before, I would have thought it strange . . . caring, yes, but strange nonetheless. However, now that I understand where your concern comes from, I must tell you that these old bones are stronger than they look.”

“That’s . . .that’s good to hear. Still . . . I should have held back.”

“And I shouldn’t have come. I can only blame the way I ended up on my curiosity, not on you and your eagerness to show off.”

Oh, a bit of a scolding after all. Fully aware that I deserved worse, I smiled back gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Shall we have tea . . . and some cookies?”

“I’d love to.”

“Great. Find a place under one of the windows; I’ll be right there.”

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“I could help.”

“You’re the guest and I’m the host, Miss Grey.”

***

“Here,” the old librarian said as he came in with a tray. “Sorry for the delay. Unfortunately, I’m on my own here today.”

“Oh, Hazel took the day off?”

“Rather, she’s suffering the consequences of an overly eventful night.”

“Is she hungover?”

“Indeed. She drank more than her constitution could handle. Not something you’d have a hard time with, I hear.”

“It’s not as big a windfall as it might seem.”

“There are two sides to every coin, Miss Grey. For example, my decision to participate in your bout with Mr. Dekcard. It was incredible to see you in your beast form, and no less to get a taste of your presence, something I would otherwise only come close to experiencing through the pages of books. The price I paid for it is more than adequate in my book.”

A pang of guilt hit my heart. The old man was helping me not only with finding the origin of my mutations without expecting anything in return, yet it never occurred to me to show myself to him in my beast form. Sure enough, all of my obvious mutations were easily observable on the plain old me. Still . . . it would be a decent thing to do.

“I’m truly sorry that I never showed you my beast self before.”

“Don’t be. I never asked.”

True.

“So, what do you think? Me as a beast?”

“Impressive, truly impressive. I’ve never been that close to one like yourself.”

In the past, I would have tortured myself with whether to wallow in my pride or cry over what I had become. He was praising my beast self, not me, the human Korra.

“Have you really never seen a beast before?”

“I didn’t say that, Miss Grey. There was a traveling carnival in my hometown once. They displayed many caged beasts. Quite an experience for my young self. Of course, I know now that a caged and tamed beast is not the same as a wild one - like you. Still, it made quite an impression on me at the time.”

“And you haven’t seen a beast since?”

“That was the impression I took from it. I never wanted to see another one outside of the books.”

Oh . . .

“Think what you will of me, Miss Grey, but not everyone is made to face danger head on.”

“I know,” I sighed, unable to stop the bitterness from seeping in. “It’s just . . . you don’t always get a choice.”

“That’s the sad truth of life. Anyway, we’ve wandered off into a rather somber topic. Here . . .” the old man said, pouring me a cup of tea from the kettle. “Jartine tea, my favorite. Good for calming the mind and holding a pleasant conversation.”

***

Not a lie. The conversation we had afterwards, over cups of tea and a tray of cookies, was indeed pleasant. Not only did we have nice conversations about life and its many joys and sorrows, but we also delved into the content of the Oath by which we were both bound.

“You know, Miss Grey, I find it rather confusing to call it the Oath.”

“Because that’s what we call the Oath that binds the World Trees and others?”

“Indeed. So refreshing that Miss Mooney and I are not the only ones who see the issue with that. You see, we call that old oath the Oath because there was no precedent for it. The Oath was the only one of its kind. But now . . . historically, events like this are given adjectives according to the people involved or the setting in which they took place.

“The Castiana Oath sounds a bit much to me. There were only a dozen of us, not the entire city.”

“The Oath of Castiana might be more fitting - however, as I said, it’s not the only option. The Grey-Palemoon Oath, for example. Or the Oath of the Guardian of Idleaf.”

A mixture of pride, awkwardness, and guilt swirled in my chest. “I didn’t do it to get my name in the history books, let alone take credit for it.”

“Most virtuous and true of many. Others, by contrast, do deeds to be remembered, sometimes deeds so vile to even imagine. As for you, Miss Grey, I’m afraid you’ve already made history as the first human Guardian of the World Tree.”

Annoyingly, the old librarian was right again. My own doubts about my humanity didn’t matter as much as it seemed. Speaking of . . . , “About my mutations? Did you really find the origin of the beasts behind my ears?”

The old librarian stroked his beard, a smile hiding behind it, the enthusiastic gleam in his old eyes. “I thought you would never ask. In fact, I was kind of hoping that by the time we got around to it, Miss Mooney would have already joined us. By all accounts, she deserves no less credit than I do.”

“Then why not invite her?”

For all my eagerness, I knew how disheartening it was not to be able to present the fruits of my labor to the person who mattered most. There were so many times I missed my mom.

“I tried, but it is not my place to enter a lady’s chamber without permission. And all I got from her was an unladylike moan.”

She must have had one hell of a hangover. “Does she have a room here? Maybe I could?”

The old librarian’s eyes flashed with a gleam of delight, and he stood up. He had been waiting for me to ask. “Follow me, Miss Grey.” 

For the first time, I was given a glimpse into the private inner parts of the library that were otherwise off-limits to the eyes of visitors. The kitchen, bathroom, and living room were on the ground floor, with the bedrooms on the second floor. Since the focus of the building was the books, the rooms were no less spacious than in the barracks. However, they weren’t confined either, giving a homey feeling.

*Knock, knock.*

“It’s me, Korra.”

The young woman on the other side of the door whimpered, just as the old librarian had described. A weird shriek and a thud followed.

“Are you okay, Hazel? Can I come in?” I tried to look into the room through my domain first, but whoever built this place had woven enchantments against looking inside these walls as well.

Just as I reached for the handle, the door opened.

‘Shit!’ I swallowed a curse. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I’d stumbled upon an undead. Skin white as chalk, messy hair, red eyes - pain behind them, followed by the smell - of vomit; Hazel was staring at me, a disturbing smile on her lips.

“Hi, Korra. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Well, it was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I came back from Esulmor and . . .”

“Ah! Did you meet Esudein?”

“Yeah, I did . . .”

“And have you seen Idleaf? I mean her tree - where is she, by the way?” Hazel asked, peering out the door into the hallway.

“Actually, I have no idea. Anyway, I came by to see if you would like to join me and Mr. Sandoval downstairs for some cookies and tea.”

Though I didn’t think it possible, Hazel turned even paler at the mention of refreshment and pressed her hand to her mouth.

“Have you tried Dawn Sober?” It was a hangover potion the innkeeper Baron of the Broken Mug had given me once. Though not cheap, it worked wonders.

“D-didn’t think I’d need one,” Hazel rasped.

“Should I ask Mr. Sandoval if he has one?”

“No . . . no, I . . . give me a minute, I’ll come down.”

 

***

It took her almost a quarter of an hour, but when she emerged, she looked like she had returned to the realm of the living. While her eyes were still red, shame was written all over her face. “Mr. Sandoval, I have no words to adequately apologize.”

The old librarian chuckled. “No need for any. You’re young - if I were your age, I’d take my chances in the tavern as much as you did. Please take a seat, Miss Mooney.”

“Looks like you had fun last night, huh?” I wasn’t afraid to give her a little nudge as she sat down next to me, as that one drink we’d chatted over last night had broken down the barrier that made us just acquaintances, even strangers. “Did you stay long after I left?”

“Until daylight. I wanted to . . . b-but they wouldn’t let me go.”

That wasn’t hard to imagine. I had been in those shoes.

“Um . . .” Mr. Sandoval cleared his throat. “While you were recovering, Miss Mooney, we came to the topic of our search.”

“No! You’ve already talked about Sail-Eared Foxes?” Hazel blurted out.

“Well, your mentioning them just now is, I believe, the first Miss Grey has heard of those beasts.”

“It is.”

“Ah . . . well . . . Medvin’s hairy balls!”

“So, Sail-Eared Foxes? Not the Fennec Foxes?”

“Indeed. The Fennec Foxes turned out to be a dead end.”

“Too many differences from your ears and abilities,” Hazel added enthusiastically. “Of course, we only went by Mr. Sandoval’s written description of your ears, but the foxes down south in the deserts use their ears mainly to cool their bodies.”

“And that’s not my case.” It was not. I would have noticed something like that.

“Glad we weren’t wrong,” Mr. Sandoval rubbed his beard and sipped his tea. Hazel tried a cookie but turned white. “We’ve been through many books, but to make a long story short, Miss Grey . . . further south, where the deserts meet the sea and turn into cliffs, we found the beasts that we believe are the origin of your mutation.”

“Sail-Eared Foxes,” Hazel announced, as if saying it for the first time, her excited voice giving it a ring of unprecedented significance. And it was significant. At least to me. Highly significant. If they were right . . . I might be closer to learning all about myself.

“So, what’s so special about these foxes?” I asked, barely keeping my eagerness and excitement out of my voice.

“Well,” the old librarian spoke. “For starters, their excellent hearing.”

I expected as much. “And . . . ?”

“Their ears are so big they can fly,’ Hazel blurted out, so excited she almost threw up on me. Not that I’d care if she did. My stunted brain was having trouble processing what I had just heard. “They can fly using their ears?”

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