James stepped up onto the porch, his hair still wet from swimming in the lake. It hung heavily in the bun atop his head, occasionally dripping down his back on the walk over.
His filthy clothes were tucked under his arm as he knocked on the door. He didn't feel like fishing for his keys.
Hild opened the door. The words died mid-greeting as she paused, both brows raised as she stared in bweilderment at them.
"Sorry if we're a little later than expected," James spoke first. "We took a small detour."
"Quite a bit later than anticipated, yes," Hild replied slowly. She turned an investigative eye back and forth between them, before settling her gaze back on James.
James glanced back at Caspar, then back at Hild, deciding it didn't make sense to leave her in the dark.
"The body is buried," he said. "But the process of burial was quite messy, so we stopped by the lake to wash off, exchanging one stench for another."
With a small shrug, he offered her a small smile.
"It seemed preferable to showing up smelling like death," he said. "Though I do plan on showering regardless."
Lifting an arm, Caspar gave a loud whiff. "I don't think the lake smells that bad."
"That's because you like the lake, Caspar," James said without looking back at him.
"I'll agree," Hild said with a faint grin, "lake stench is superior to death stench." She stepped aside and swept an arm inward in silent invitation.
With a small bow of his head, James stepped inside. The first thing he noticed were all of the suitcases and bags sitting on the couch and the floor, all packed up. Larrel popped her head out of the kitchen, holding some cans of food. It looked like she was packing.
Stepping around her, Lyall emerged with a steaming pot in both hands and set it on the small dining table. Then tilted his nose up with an offended frown as he loudly sniffed the air.
"What the hell," he said when his eyes landed on the recently returned.
"We went to the lake," James said, spreading one arm to the side as if to announce their arrival. "So as to smell like lake, and not dead bodies. You're welcome."
Lyall still didn't look very pleased with this outcome. Predictably.
With a small roll of his eyes, James simply strolled through the living room, weaving around the suitcases on the floor.
"I'm going to shower," he said. "Calm down."
Lyall held up both hands in surrender. "Fine, good."
Wanting to make it quick, James made a bee-line for the bathroom.
After hurriedly - and thoroughly - scrubbing himself down and putting on a clean set of clothes, he stepped back out into the main room wish his wet hair tied loosely atop his head. It looked like Larrel had finished packing food already, and there was another bag that appeared in the living room. Larrel and Lyall were sitting on top of things on the couch, and Hild had taken the single chair, while Caspar seated himself at the table.
James waved to Caspar to get his attention.
"Your turn," he said.
Nodding his thanks, Caspar pushed himself to his feet and ducked into the kitchen.
Hild then drifted over to the dining half of the living room, quietly gesturing for James to sit with her. As she ladled a portion into one of two remaining bowls at the the table, she missed her brother's skeptical backward glance at them.
Ignoring Lyall, James offered Hild a small, warm smile, and he took the seat beside her.
"Thanks," James said, sliding the bowl towards himself. It smelled like some kind of vegetable lentil soup, and it was still hot enough to be very fragrant.
He took a small sip and looked to Hild curiously.
"Were you able to get what you needed back home?" James asked.
Hild inclined her head. "Yes. I packed what necessities I could think of, and..." She shrugged a shoulder. "...said my goodbyes." After a pause, she firmly added, "Temporary, mind you. I fully intend on coming back as soon as possible."
"Of course," James said with a small nod.
He filled his mouth with another spoonful. He realized upon doing so that he hadn't eaten since yesterday.
With her elbows on the table, Hild rested her chin on her folded hands. "Larrel set up our flight out of here. Barring any unexpected roadblocks or other delays, we'll leave before dawn."
James looked over to Larrel, giving her a grateful nod. She merely offered him a slightly goofy smile and nodded in return.
"I think you'll love our bush pilot," Larrel said. "He's a gigantic man. Massive. But has the personality of a golden retriever."
"Very personable sort," Lyall agreed as he sank down into the pile of bags on the couch.
"Did you meet him?" James asked Lyall.
"He's how I got into Curio," Lyall answered, a grin in his voice.
"Very promising," Hild said agreeably, turned a faint grin his way. "Save the full pitch for our friend Calder, though. He's not keen on heights."
Oooooooooh.
So that was why Calder kept trying to suggest something else besides flying.
"We'll be sure to instill in him the utmost confidence," Lyall said with a nod.
"Never have I had a pilot fly so smooth," Larrel said, like she was already working on the pitch. "Zero turbulence. Smooth sailing. And he made me laugh the whole way."
"Should we leave out the part about the missing eye?" Lyall asked conversationally.
"I don't see why it's relevant," Larrel said. "He's licensed, so clearly the people who passed him thought he was capable, and he's certainly proved it with a sustained career."
"We omit," Lyall concluded with another nod.
Still smiling with amusement, Hild turned back to James and asked, "You're alright with planes?"
"Yeah," he said. "I'm used to it. Not that I know how to fly one, of course."
Hild hummed a laugh. "Good."
"Bo said he'd teach me how to fly a plane," Larrel interjected. "I think it was a real offer."
Lyall laughed at that and glanced over his shoulder at them. "How confident are you in her ability to learn on the job?"
James smirked at he made eye contact with his sister.
"50/50," he said.
"Hey!" Larrel objected.
"Either we make it just fine or we all crash and die," James said.
Hild giggled. "Only one way to find out."
"I'll have you know," Larrel said, lifting a finger. "That I'm an excellent learner. I am a licensed doctor! That took a lot of brainpower!"
"What potentially fatal thing will you be learning from?" Caspar's voice squeaked from the kitchen doorway.
Everyone fell silent for a split second as they all turned to look at him.
"Huh?" Larrel said. "Oh. We were just joking about how I'd do as a bush pilot with zero experience."
With a confused look, Caspar took the chair adjacent to James. "Okay..."
"Joking aside," Hild said, schooling her features, "we do need to discuss our travel plans. Such as, where we're even headed."
"Oh!" Caspar tilted his head toward James and answered simply, "The edge of the world."
She blinked slowly at him.
James hesitated.
"Right," he said slowly. "So, now that we're all in the same room again, it would do well for us to catch you up on what we know. I was able to get some information out of Constantine."
This only served to further confuse than clarify for Hild. "You were?"
James sighed, digging into his pockets. He pulled out Constantine's wallet and slid it across the table to her.
"I know a spell that allows me to speak with the dead," he said, trying to sound casual.
"What?!" Larrel spouted. "Where'd you learn that?"
"It doesn't matter how I learned it right now--"
"Um, yeah it does!" Larrel interrupted.
"And we know which," Hild furthered, "'edge of the world' we're going for, right? We're not just blindly flying out?"
"North," James said. "Was all I could get out of him. So at least we know which pole."
"Fantastic," she said flatly, "so we'll just search the entire northern hemisphere."
"Not all of it," Caspar tried assuring her. "We can probably narrow it down to...somewhere around the Atlantic." He paused. "Which. Still makes for a big radius, but it's something."
"If it's any assurance," James said with a forced smile. "He's seems pretty eager to find me. So maybe he'll find us before we find him."
Lyall stood and gave him an unconvinced look. "Assurance? No. I'd say that's more...disquieting. Unnerving." He rounded the couch to stand at the table by his sister. "Troubling, even."
James's smile faded, and he let out a long sigh, leaning back into his seat.
"Welcome to my life," he said.
With a wry snort, Lyall leaned his folded elbows on the back of Hild's chair. "I thought he wasn't out and about anymore. Not since the Age of Enlightenment, and since he failed to escape earlier in this past century."
Hild glanced off as she considered that too. "Did Constantine confirm that Ivar's out?"
"The opposite," Caspar answered, tone suddenly quite serious. "But that doesn't mean an actual escape isn't imminent. Even god-like spells like Eir's can erode, given enough time."
"I'd also like not having to run for my life forever," James mentioned a little more quietly, tapping his fingers against the table and idly observing his own hand.
"So you're saying... you want to end it for good?" Larrel asked slowly. "You want to kill him?"
There was a brief pause as James looked up, realizing everyone was watching him expectantly for an answer. Larrel looked sobered. Lyall studied him closely in that intrigued way of his. Hild's eyes were deeply sympathetic. Caspar looked like he wanted to say something, but opted instead for a tired, resigned silence.
"What else is there to do?" James asked honestly. "I seal him away for another hundred years and pass on the responsibility to someone else even less prepared than I? This has to end. Eir thought she could postpone it, by banishing him to the Below. But if I want to have any assurance of this world's future, uninfluenced by Ivar's chaos... then Ivar needs to be out of the picture."
"And what makes you think you'll succeed, where she didn't?" Lyall asked, blunt tone bordering challenging. "What makes you think you can kill a god?"
"He's probably the only one who can," Caspar firmly answered in James's stead. "It's worth a shot."
"And I'd like to not go in alone," James added softly. "That would be... what's different. This time."
"As we agreed," Hild said, offering him a warm smile.
James looked across the table, briefly meeting her eyes with a small smile of his own before he looked down at the table, suddenly self aware of everyone else watching.
"As we agreed," he echoed.
A short beat passed.
Caspar drummed his hands on the edge of the table. "We'll need to head for the coast first, probably, then find a way across the Atlantic."
James nodded.
"A shame we didn't lock up Ivar just north of Canada," he said. "But yes. We'll probably have to fly or go by boat."
He glanced at Caspar, remembering Caspar's aversion to planes.
"The former would be much, faster," he said.
Caspar nodded slowly and mumbled, "Of course."
"Something," Hild cut in, "we don't have to think of just yet. We've still got our first flight to catch, first thing in the morning."
"Ah, perfect," James said. "What time do we need to leave?"
"I think Larrel arranged for a 5 AM flight?" Lyall said, glancing her way for confirmation. "Which means we should be out of here by 4, 4:30 at the latest?"
"4," Larrel piped in. "I don't want to be late. Also I want to not feel rushed."
"We can put further plotting on hold, then," Hild said with a faint grin. "Get what sleep we can now."
"Sounds great to me!" Larrel said putting in ear plugs and immediately flopping over onto the couch. "Talk to you at 3am!"
With a dramatic eye roll then slump over the back of the chair, Lyall groaned loudly. Hild reached back and patted his arm, though not without a unamused stare into the middle distance.
"I'll sleep on the floor-" James started to say.
"No, you won't," Lyall quickly objected, popping upright to fix him with a stern look. "Healing spells or no, you still need to rest properly."
James opened his mouth to object, but then raised up his hands.
"If you insist," he said, not wanting to argue with Lyall, especially after their spat earlier.
Satisfied with James's answer, Lyall tiredly bumped his forehead to the back of Hild's head. "I'll take the floor," he mumbled.
"Your sacrifice will not be forgotten," she hummed.
"We'll just need to move the cot," he added.
James looked to the living room, currently filled with suitcases. There would barely be enough room for Lyall to sleep on the floor, nevermind bring the cot in.
He looked back to Lyall with a raised brow. Where were they going to move it? The cabin was tiny.
"That won't be necessary," Hild sighed in exasperation.
"You can just take my room," Caspar offered her.
Lifting his head at that, Lyall gestured to Caspar. "Good, thank you."
Hild huffed, but likewise gave Caspar an appreciative nod. "Honestly, the preferable option," she said, rising to her feet. "I'll see you gentlemen in the morning, then."
"There won't be any sun to see anything by," Lyall said grimly.
"Electricity," James said dryly, miming the flicking of a light switch.
"No. Sun," Lyall repeated emphatically.
"It'll be up by the time we get in the air," James said. "You'll get a great view of the sunrise."
Hild patted her brother's face on her way to the stairs. "The sunrises here are unmatched."
James looked down at the bowl of soup in front of him, having forgotten it was there. Wanting to go to sleep as soon as possible, he decided his attention was better given to finishing his food. He took a big scoop.
Adjacent to him, Caspar stared off at the window, looking lost in thought. Lyall pointedly tapping the pot in the middle of the table snapped him back to the present.
"May as well finish it," Lyall said as he turned to assess the living room floor.
Caspar only nodded quietly as he obliged.
Curiously, James watched Lyall in silence as he continued to consume his soup.
Lyall nudged aside the coffee table to make more room. Scanned the place, then grabbed a pillow from the chair by the fireplace and the blanket that was draped over the top. When that seemed insufficient to him, he padded around the couch, completely silent so as to not disturb Larrel, and began poking around in the small closet space under the stairs.
He re-emerged with a triumphant, "Ha!" and unfurled a sleeping bag in a cloud of dust. His moment of victory devolved into a quiet sneezing fit.
James glanced at Caspar, sharing brief eye contact. It seemed they both had the same thought.
Lyall was trying to make do, but he didn't have to sleep on the floor. There was still the recliner, as an option.
By the time Lyall had successfully set up on the floor, Caspar finished his second bowl of soup, leaving the pot empty. He set his bowl inside the pot. "I'll clean these in a sec," he murmured, then rose to his feet.
Raising his brows, James lifted up his bowl, slurping down the last of the broth, still quietly observing.
Stepping around the couch, Caspar stood with his hands set on his hips, looking down at where Lyall lay on the floor. Just quietly taking it in for a moment.
"Can I help you?" Lyall asked slowly. The couch blocked him from view.
Caspar was trying to bite back a grin. "You don't like making things easy, do you?"
Lyall huffed. "I think I'm being quite resourceful!"
"There are two perfectly good options that don't involve the floor," Caspar disagreed. "And one of them, I sure as hell won't fit in, so you might as well take it."
"And what's tha--"
Caspar was already kneeling down, and hoisted him up in both arms. With an indignant yelp, Lyall tried twisting out of his grasp the way offended cats do. It threw them a bit off-balance as Caspar straightened again, but he held firm as he carried the stubborn doctor over to the guest room.
"A straightforward answer would suffice!" Lyall said, eventually clinging to Caspar as if for dear life.
"Yeah, but this is easier than just arguing with you," Caspar hummed.
James had to suppress a laugh as he set his empty bowl down on the table.
These two...
They disappeared around the corner, Lyall muttering the whole way about 'the sheer audacity'. He finally ordered to be unhanded, to which Caspar replied with a pleasant, "Okay." The cot squeaked under a sudden, likely dropped weight. Excessive complaints about wounded dignity fell on deaf ears; Caspar just wished him a good night with a smile in his voice. Lyall begrudgingly bid him, "Night," and said nothing more as Caspar re-emerged into the living room.
While they were out of sight, James began to clear the table with a grin, gathering all of the bowls and taking them into the kitchen. He gave Caspar a small nod as he left the living room.
Caspar had offered to clean up, but James knew the man desparately needed sleep. Leaving Caspar to take care of that, James busied himself with quickly cleaning the dishes, leaving them in the drying rack in the sink so they'd be dry by the time they woke up.
His hair was still wet - as it usually was, sometimes a few hours after washing - but he let it down on his way out of the kitchen, shaking his head as he turned into the bedroom.
Just as he'd expected, he saw Lyall on his cot, back in his former blankets, curled towards the wall. There was something about his posture that still seemed indignant, like he was still having an argument in his mind despite Caspar having left the room many minutes ago.
Overhead, he could hear a few footsteps from Hild moving about the loft.
Closing the door behind him, James looked down at Lyall with a grin. He stopped at the edge of his bed, sitting as he took off his shoes.
"Lyall?" James whispered.
After a moment's delay, Lyall peeked over his shoulder at him. "Yes?"
James hesitated, looking at Lyall.
"Thanks," James said, offering a small smile, his brows drawing together. "For giving me another chance."
Lyall glanced off, silent, before facing the wall again. "Sleep well, James," was all he murmured in reply.
Well, Lyall never seemed the sort to have very genuine conversations, anyway. At least James gave it a shot.
With a small sigh, he laid down on his bed and rolled over, saying nothing.
Predictably, James's mind was too busy for him to fall asleep right away, but evidently, Lyall was tired enough from the long day that he fell asleep quickly. James knew the moment that Lyall finally fell completely quiet, and when James glanced over, he noticed Lyall was curled up on his side like he usually was in his pattern of sleep.
Maybe it was odd to have noted it already, but Lyall seemed to have three sleeping positions he cycled through at night: the side-facing fetal position, face-down on his stomach, and sprawled with all of his limbs out, always in the same directions.
He was just at the beginning of the cycle.
James rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, trying to wait out the buzz of worried in his brain.
They were leaving Curio in the morning, but it still didn't feel soon enough.
Was this "Bo" really trustworthy? Could he be compromised? What if word already got out that the four of them were flying out, and one of Constantine's contacts was already close?
How long would they be running and fighting for their lives before they found Ivar? Would they even make it that far?
How many of them would he lose? Or would they all lose him?
He rubbed his eyes, trying not to let his mind go too far down that path. Now was not the time to give himself to despair.
Closing his eyes, he tried to think about something else. Anything else. But it felt like everything he had to draw from in his recent life events ended in violence and running. Over and over and over again.
Still searching, he found his mind landing on Hild.
Such a recent aquaintance, but... the moments he had spent with her had been pleasant. Like a breath of fresh air. A moment's peace.
Of course, he still didn't know her very well. And it would be far too presumptuous to assume she was going to stick around forever, but it did seem like she and Lyall, along with Caspar, were miraculously convinced to join him in facing Ivar - which, he honestly hadn't expected.
Caspar, James could understand, from what little he knew about Caspar's past with Eir, and what past he suspected Caspar had with Ivar.
But what was Lyall's motivation? Was it just to join his sister? To stay with his long lost friend?
And what of Hild?
It wasn't that James didn't think they had their own reasons for wanting Ivar gone, but with the stakes as high as they were...
James opened his eyes when he suddenly heard Hild's voice above him, drifting through the ceiling.
"There won't be as much sightseeing as you'd think," Hild was saying, her voice distinctly lacking in any Eloise Clark qualities. "My brother and I will be too busy trying to sort out this mess."
Hild was then quiet for a long moment. Probably now just listening. When she spoke again, her voice dropped to an inaudible volume for the most part. There was a lot of stopping short, as is cut off multiple times by the other end of the call, until she sternly said, "Please don't."
Another drawn out silence. Now a tinny voice James recognized as Ava's was just loud enough to hear, but not make out any clear words.
"It's a family matter," Hild eventually spoke up again. Then, a long moment after, softly conceded, "We are." Then was out of words, and her intense pacing overhead stopped.
It was unclear for a while if the phone call had ended, until Hild finally concluded, voice clear and steady, "I'll try to be back...I don't know when, but I will. Good night."
James felt like he shouldn't have heard any of that, and he found himself despising the thin walls of the cabin even more. Clearly, Hild had been hoping for that conversation to be private, and the fact that James heard any of it made his chest tight with regret.
Rolling over onto his side again, he furrowed his brows, unable to stop his mind from automatically filling in the blanks.
The only person Hild could've logically been talking to was Ava. Her now-former housemate.
James hadn't been present for that goodbye, and he didn't know how Hild chose to frame it, and how much she chose to tell, but she'd clearly said enough to drop the accent, and to let Ava know that she was in some sort of mess. It sounded like maybe she'd said it was between her and her brother, Lyall. Not entirely far from the truth.
James couldn't help but feel a small sting of guilt at being part of the reason - no, the main reason - that Hild was having to leave her whole life in Curio behind.
Hild would've had at least another ten good years before anyone started to notice how she didn't age. Instead her stay got cut short to three.
Too tired to think about all of the implications and what happened while he and Caspar were gone, James forced himself to think on the only thing that seemed to help him sleep these days. Even still, it didn't always work, but...
He pinched his eyes shut, trying to remember the distant memory as clearly as he could.
When he was a boy, his mother used to sing him lullabies to help him fall asleep.
If he focused very hard, it was like he could still hear her voice.
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