The Grackle

Chapter 18: Sack of Potatoes

As soon as she and Blayne entered the charming little house across the road from Grackles, Blayne shut the door behind them. Ambriel's eyes watered as she waved at the smoky air.

"Too much sage, Dandelion," she coughed.

"Not enough," he corrected. "Especially considering where we are. Okay, coat off and arms out. Inspection time."

"What?" Ambriel hugged herself. "But it's cold!"

"There's a fire in the hearth. You've been in a house full of 'em for days. We have to do this."

Ambriel clenched her teeth and shrugged off her coat. Blayne circled her again.

"No fur, no horns or spikes. Let me see your teeth."

"Blayne," Ambriel complained. "Is this really necessary?"

"Yes. You know it is. Prayers can only do so much."

Ambriel rolled her eyes but did as he asked and flashed him a stiff smile. When he was satisfied, he reached for her wrist, turned her clammy ungloved hand in his, and asked, "The rashes?"

"Surprisingly not bad considering all the stress. Guess I was too feverish to feel itchy?"

Blayne opened his mouth to say something but stopped, thought better of it, and started again. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Ambriel crossed her arm over the one Blayne was still holding and looked away. Panic quickened her heartbeat.

"Tell you what?"

About Grackle? My stash? What I've been looking for?

"That you were sick?"

"I didn't... I didn't think it was that bad. And with Hallowborne in trouble, I guess I thought I could push through it."

I didn't want to be a burden.

Blayne frowned at first but when she wilted, he released her hand and opened his arms.

"You're clear to give me a hug now. I officially declare you human."

At this, Ambriel gave his shoulder a playful push before she slid her arms under his and squeezed his bony frame. She coughed again. "Yeah. Definitely too much sage, Dandelion. What did you do? Rub it into your clothes?"

He snickered over her head. "Oh, believe me, I tried to."

"Ugh. I'm gonna open some windows."

"Careful not to disturb the salt lines. There's a change of clothes in that room over there. Whatever you're wearing now, we'll wash later. Matter of fact, scratch that. Burn them."

"Not doing that."

"Yes, you are," he said in sing-song.

"No, I'm not," she sang back as she walked into the room Blayne had gestured to and closed the door. The scent of sage was gentler, but it was musty. Compared to Grackle's room, it was a fraction of the size.

Cozy, but nicer than my room back at the domicile at least.

The warm saturated colors that accented Grackle's home were muted in this one — faded with age and sun. On one side of the room, there was a wide casement window with a sill that Ambriel thought would be perfect for plants. On the other side, facing the window, lay a single-person bed with a dried flower garland draped close to the ceiling.

"Doesn't seem like anyone's been in here for a long time."

Ambriel ignored the clothes laid out on the bed and dragged her fingers over the wall below the garland. It was another rectangular shape, an echo, with a nail and nothing else.

"What could have been here?"

She flinched when she heard Blayne's muffled voice on the other end of the door.

"What's taking you so long? Did you find a tentacle or something on your back?"

"No!"

"Are you sure?" He half teased. "I'm starting to wonder." He jiggled the knob.

"Don't you dare!"

Blayne barked a laugh on the other side of the closed door. She waited for his laughter to fade before she sighed to herself.

"What a mess I've gotten us into."

After Ambriel changed, there was no time to "settle in." Breakfast was brought to them by a burly creature that might as well have been a giant rock with eyes — Blayne's guard supposedly, who politely introduced himself to Ambriel as "Dov." Everything sped up from there. They were blindfolded and guided into a seat that felt like leather.

"Is this a car?" Ambriel gasped, already feeling her inner scavenger becoming excited.

"Feels like it," Blayne muttered next to her, unfazed. Though cars were a rare commodity these days, those with access to them were usually in high places. Blayne's family was amongst the few aside from the scouts that were allowed to use the only two engine-operated vehicles in Hallowborne.

"Can I see?"

Grackle, who was acting as their handler, didn't answer.

So that's a no then. Got it.

After a very bumpy ride in which Ambriel had to clench her teeth to keep them from clacking, they came to a stop.

"We fly from here. The ground team will meet us," Grackle said flatly. Ambriel shivered when she felt a gust of frigid air hit her right side. There was pressure on her elbow. She tensed.

"Is that-"

"Yeah," Grackle said. "Get out slowly."

"Uh, what is this about flying?" Blayne stammered to her left. "In case you haven't noticed, neither of us have wings."

"I'm guessing we're going to be carried."

"Congrats. One of ya has a brain," Grackle said. She couldn't see his face but she sensed his mischievous smirk.

"You can carry both of us?"

"No. You're with Jo."

"What?" Blayne squawked. "Who the hell is that? Is that the same one-"

"That found you?" Another male voice interjected. His tone was more chipper than Grackles. Ambriel assumed this was Jo. "Yep."

"No. Absolutely not."

"Blayne," Ambriel snapped, "Just do it. The faster we get this over with, the faster we get out of here."

"But where are they even taking us? How do we know they're not going to butcher us for dinner later? Hey, don't touch me!"

Jo warned airily, "Better stay still, Lemon-head, or I might drop ya."

Ambriel knew Blayne had been carried off by his screams. She winced until they faded into the distance above.

"Grackle? Can I ask one thing?"

She looked up, unsure of where he was standing, and blinked against the cloth covering her eyes. Grackle squeezed her wandering mittens to orient her before he guided her arms around his neck and lifted her off of the ground.

"Mmm?"

"Is he, uh, being carried like sweet baby Jesus?"

Grackle stilled and then snorted, belting out a laugh that rumbled against her. That was all the answer she needed. Ambriel felt bad for Blayne, but she couldn't help laughing too. When Grackle was able to string a coherent sentence again, he asked seriously, "Yer friend doesn't know about your secret stash then?"

Ambriel tucked her head under Grackle's feathered neck and said nothing. That was also enough of an answer.