The Fountain Pen

I’m honestly surprised I was able to get nearly 2,000 words written today. Sunday’s aren’t usually a productive day for me, unless naps count as productivity. I pulled some daddy time with my little girl in the afternoon, taking her out to visit with my family and we all played together. She told me she had a good time, and we’ve come to learn she very much appreciates quality time. That is time not spent writing that I do not regret.

I am now 1,880 words away from the NaNoWriMo finish line, but it is certain the story will not be done. I dare not even guess how many words are left, but I expect it will take me at least another week to finish the draft, which I will do. Bed is calling my name, as I have an early morning, so here is the next installment of the story:

“If you will excuse us,” Katarina said with a firm kindness, “we are eager to resolve the situation.”

The crowd made a path for Katarina and Joe. As they hurried into the city people wore looks of worry and concern. A few showed outright panic, locking and boarding up their houses, bags packed and piled in the street. These Katarina stopped to reassure all was well in Second City and their safety had not been compromised in the slightest. The city looked to be on high alert, with more than a few citizens preparing to repel invaders.

“Why is everybody in a state of emergency and alarm?” Joe asked Katarina after she stopped a fourth time to reassure someone they were still safe.

“The guards have not been called into action in over 75 years,” she replied. “It’s supposed to be a rare occurrence.”

“You’d think they would be more curious than panicked,” Joe replied.

“They are there primarily as a first line of defense against invasion. The last time a war ravaged the city, and many lost their homes and their lives.”

Joe fell silent as understanding washed over him. The looks in people’s faces bore a new weight. A little worry tickled his heart, “We aren’t coming under attack, are we?” he asked.

“No,” Katarina said with firm finality.

“How can you be so sure?” he asked.

She stopped walking and turned to look at him. “Because it is my job to know. After all you have seen Joseph, after all you’ve witnessed, have you no faith yet?” she said with exasperation.

Joe looked at her quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“You have seen a great many impossible things today, and yet you still ask if the impossible can happen. You ask for assurances, you ask for a justification, a rationale, for how and why things are. Rather than simply accept things as they are you question them.”

“As you say, I’ve seen a number of impossible things today, and thus by definition they can’t have happened.”

“And yet the did,” Katarina interrupted.

“Maybe so, or maybe I’m delusional and dreaming all this up. The point is I am struggling to come to grips with all,” he waved his arms about gesturing at the city, “this. It’s a lot to take in all at once. You ask if I have any faith, I do have faith. I have faith in the laws of science and physics, laws which you and your cohorts have worked hard at shattering. So you’ll just have to excuse me if I ask questions and poke and prod and refuse to believe what cannot be happening,” Joe said testily, falling into a sullen silence.

Katarina looked at Joe with a satisfied smile on her face. In her mind the walls had been breached. Joe was coming to grips with the newly revealed world. What Joe was going through would be a lot to ask of anyone already initiated, but an Outsider would likely go mad. “Hold onto that Joe,” she said softly. “We do not violate the Laws of Nature as much as you might think. Hold fast to that faith and you will get through this.” Joe simply glared at her. “We’re losing precious time,” she said, turning around and resuming their course.

They walked for some distance further, Katarina still offering words of comfort and encouragement to those in obvious need of it, when Joe realized they were in a part the city he did not remember seeing. They were fast approaching a set of buildings shaped like overgrown chess pieces, some colored white, and some colored black. They were arranged in what initially appeared to be a haphazard fashion, until Joe realized the ground itself laid out in white and black squares.

“Is this the way to your home?” Joe asked. “I don’t remember seeing these buildings before,” he observed. “And there is no way I could forget them,” he muttered under his breath.

“We are not going to my home just yet. I need to enlist the aid of someone first.”

As they walked past a towering bishop Joe sarcastically asked, “Who’s winning?”

“Black.”

Joe stopped in surprise, “You mean to tell me this is a real game,” he asked with incredulity.

“Yes, of course.”

“Who is playing?” Joe asked, intrigued.

“They are,” Katarina said indicating the buildings.

“The buildings play themselves?” Joe asked quite astonished.

“No, the people who own and live in the buildings play.”

“So what, they each decide where to move their house each morning?”

“Each team meets regularly and surveys the playing field, then they collectively decide how to move, and simply move their house.”

“What happens to captured pieces?”

“They are relocated on the edges of the board until the game ends.”

Joe shook his head, “It must be hard finding the right house when you are invited over for dinner.”

“Not especially. The entire city follows each game.”

They walked up to the only remaining white rook on the board. Katarina rattled the door knocker which created a deep echoing sound that traveled through the entire tower. “There is one thing I must warn you about,” Katarina said as they waited, “do not stare.” Joe began to ask what she was talking about when the door opened inward on creaking hinges, and there, in the doorway, stood a nearly naked man, attired only in a pair of black shorts, his skin a vibrant shade of royal blue. Joe momentarily gawked, caught completely off guard.

“Katarina,” the man said curtly. “What a surprise to see you,” he said sarcastically. “Please tell me you are here to offer some advice, one chess master to another.”

“Zuhayr,” Katarina said with a nod. “You know why I am here.”

Zuhayr turned and looked at Joe, and scowled. “And you must be the one who has caused all our present trouble and unrest.”

“What? I — no,” Joe stammered.

“Are you not the Outsider who has been stranded in Salem?” Zuhayr pressed.

Joe nodded dumbly.

“And aren’t you the reason he is now in our city, after we’ve been promised it would never happen?” the last he said turning a disdainful look upon Katarina.

“That is my doing,” Katarina said boldly.

Zuhayr eyed Katarina suspiciously, “That doesn’t change the fact that this boy has brought a world of trouble into our midst.” He turned and leaned towards Joe, “What exactly are you going to do to make amends?” he said menacingly.

“Enough!” barked Katarina. “You will leave Joe alone,” she commanded.

Zuhayr raised his hands in surrender and backed off. “My answer is no.”

“Not acceptable,” Katarina replied.

“I don’t care what you find acceptable or not,” he spat. “I will not help the one who caused the last invasion.”

“You know as well as I do that he was not at fault for that,” growled Katarina. “It is time to let that go.”

“You may let it go, but I never will. You didn’t lose someone you cared about in that invasion,” Zuhayr said, his tone laced with venom.

Katarina’s face noticeably softened, “Yes I did, Zuhayr.”

“You dare compare my wife to your prized pupil?” he shouted, spittle flying off his lips.

“I’ve never told anyone this,” she replied in a hoarse whisper, “but Anna was more than my pupil. She was my daughter.” Zuhayr stared at Katarina in obvious astonishment, his angry fire quickly diminishing. “If anyone has cause to hate I do. But I tell you again, he was not responsible for the invasion.”

“How do I know you are telling me the truth?” Zuhayr cautiously asked.

“You question my honesty?” Katarina retorted.

Zuhayr shook his head. “No. I’m … sorry for your loss,” he offered.

“And I am sorry for yours, but that doesn’t change the fact that a man needs your help right now.”

“Why should I?” he spat bitterly. “He’s a known associate of Sikander Cavanagh Cranmer, and you and I agree he was led the attack.”

“Ignatius is helping us fight Sikander,” Joe interjected.

Zuhayr swung his attention back around to Joe, “And how do you know he’s not helping Sikander?”

“Because he put his life on the line to protect me.”

“Who are you that you need protecting?”

“Nobody,” Joe said. Zuhayr snorted. “A nobody that Sikander wants dead,” Joe finished.

Zuhayr eyed Joe with interest. “Why does he want you dead?”

“That’s not important right now,” Katarina interrupted. “A man’s life hangs in the balance, there will be time enough for explanations later. Will you freely assist or not?”

Zuhayr sighed. “Very well. Let me get my things.” He retreated into his tower pushing the door closed as he left.

Katarina stood facing the door, waiting patiently for Zuhayr’s return. Joe, in contrast, was looking at Katarina out of the corner of his eye. The news that she had a daughter shocked him, for she looked no older than Joe, and the news that this daughter died some 75 years ago further caused him to pause and reevaluate her.

“Yes Joseph, I really am that old,” Katarina said, as if reading his mind.

Joe turned to face her and asked, “You had a daughter?”

“I did. It was a long time ago.”

“Sikander caused her death and you didn’t think to mention it to me?”

“It wasn’t relevant,” she replied a little icily.

“How is it not relevant.? The same man who has trapped me in this city and has been trying to kill me is responsible for your daughter’s death and it’s somehow not relevant? Aren’t you emotionally compromised or whatever they call it?” Joe pressed.

“I agreed to help you before any of us knew who was behind this.”

“Can you honestly stand there and tell me that when you found out that Sikander was behind my situation that you didn’t feel anything?”

Katarina turned and looked Joe in the eye, “I did feel something, yes. I felt the need to help you as swiftly and surely as I possibly could. Sikander is a dangerous man without regard for human life, and if he’s targeted you then without my help you are as good as dead.” Her tone softened, “I don’t want to see that, Joseph.”

Joe looked down ashamed that he pressed her. “Thanks,” he practically mumbled. “Thanks for that.”

“You are welcome. We will get you home safe, that is my promise to you.”

“But after that I’m as good as dead?” Joe asked.

Katarina paused before answering. “If this truly is Sikander’s work then yes. Once he knows you are still alive he will try again.”

“Truthfully, should I stay here?”

“That decision is up to you.”

Joe ran his hands through his hair, “I just want to go home and have my life return to normal. I don’t fit in here. I’m not one of you. I’m not hundreds of years old, or have mystical powers, or am a giant or something. I’m just a guy, a guy who happens to have a screwed up lineage and the dumb luck to draw stuff I shouldn’t.”

“You would not have to live down here, Joe,” Katarina said softly. “And Salem is as good a place as any to settle down, operate a freelance business, and even raise a family … someday.”

Joe snorted. “If I should live so long I’m not sure I would want to curse a kid with my genetics. Who knows what ancient oddball might try to kill the poor kid.”

The door to the tower opened, and Zuhayr, dressed now in a rough spun white robe with a brown leather satchel slung across his body, stepped out and joined them. “Well, let’s go,” he said and started off down the street.