Babysitting The Special Agents

1: In Which They Want Laconni

-LACONNI-

Relief blankets me like a heavy snow when the skysailer docks in Olohidso, the familiar landscape more beautiful to my eyes than any other. Clanging and shouting rings out as anchors are thrown and we come to land, my ears are dead to it all as I rush to the gate, searching for my Dad as I wait for it to open.

I'm still searching for him as I weave through luggage carrying carts and stressed passengers. I don't even have time to be thankful that I'm finally off the skysailer and out of the open air because I hear him. "Connie!" His rough voice barks, "over here."

"Dad," I grin, flying into his arms.

"Those stupid storms." He whispers into my curly hair as he squeezes me close.

"Promise I won't leave the house next time." I try not to sound too sheepish as I mumble about my amateur mistake. Even animals know to stay inside during Element storms. "To be fair to me though," I say as I pull away, "I didn't know it was a teleportation storm."

My dad huffs unhappily and I decide not to tell him about how I ended up in someone's pond on the island of Orta, one of Fratupla's 22 beautiful islands. "Did you know Frastupla has 22 islands?" I say, trying to fill the silence.

"Yes." My dad replies. There's a beat before he says, "Did you know there's a job opening at your sisters school?"

And just like that all the joy I felt flees the scene. "I told you." I say, "I don't want to work at the school."

"Connie," Dad rubs his eyes and I know the look on his face, 'the where did I go wrong' look. "If this is because you don't want to work with Betha—"

"It's not that," I interrupt, I wouldn't mind working with my sister if it was a job I wanted; but it's not. It doesn't sing to my soul, I don't want to teach children like my sister or douse fires like my brother. I want to find something that feels right, a job that's my true calling.
I could never tell my Dad that, he'd roll his eyes and tell me to get over my silly notions. He loves me and I know that, but somewhere in our relationship wires got tangled and he blames himself for my lack of ambition.

He sighs again, "I don't want to fight when you've just got home." He adjusts his work tie, "I have to get back to work but you can head home and I'll see you for dinner."

"Ok," I say, wishing I could tell him that I've got my next steps in life, just to see him smile. Instead of lying I give him a final hug and leave him to continue his work as dock master.

I kick a piece of gravel along the road with my scruffy brown boots as I exit the sailer yard and walk down the cobbled road.
When I reach our small grey stone house my eyes do a sweep of it, making a checklist: my mother's garden could do with some weeding and the houses coloured glass windows are in need of a clean, but first I want to whip up a batch of my Dads favourite butter seed bread, in hopes of buttering him up, buttering him up butter bread, get it?

I freeze mid chuckle when an unfamiliar voice addresses me by my full name. "Laconni Burna Esterean?"

I turned nervously to the two people (who looked like they could definitely have some giant or ogre ancestors) dwarfing the white picket fence they stand in front of. "Yes," I said, "that's me, can I help you?"

The woman stepped forward, "we're going to have to ask you to come with us."

"Why?" I asked, fiddling with the slightly rusted keys in my hand, "and on what authority?" These weren't my local policemen, that was for sure. Most of the local police were shorter than me and they wore hideous purple vests.