Turbinio

Aconite

Whether Wekapipo was real or not, it took you a while to figure it out.

It was a warm day with a gentle wind, 28 December, according to Wekapipo. Cicadas were buzzing loudly in the woods on the outskirts of town and, despite the heat, your fingers were cold and stiff, clutching the bag of herbs you had dropped during your sudden nausea.

"Feeling better?'' He asked, crouching down in front of you.

"Ah, sí, sí. It was just dizziness, it always happens, don't worry."

''What are you doing here with that bag?''

''Nothing, I was attending to... a patient.''

He stood up and looked round a corner, restless, then turned back to you.

"A patient?'' He asked, raising an eyebrow involuntarily, then returning to his normal expression of impassivity. ''What are you hiding, miss?''

''What am I hiding? What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn't you be looking for Lucy?''

''I had to take a slight diversion, see?'' He gestured to the street, but you couldn't see what was there, so you leaned over. ''Stephen Steel is in that carriage. He's been called to attend a meeting with the president.''

''A meeting with the president? But for what?''

"That's what I'm trying to find out.''

You squinted to see the restless silhouette inside the carriage, bent over, agonized, like a wounded insect.

''He's...''

"Crying.'' Wekapipo added dryly. "He's a widowed man now.''

You swallowed dryly as if the burden of grief could be felt a mile away, shifting your sensation to the gaze of the man next to you, still wondering. What made you think you could fool a man like him?

"I just... I don't want to get in the way, I'm leaving.''

"There's something wrong''. He said. ''What's happening? What do you intend to do?''

You didn't intend to say anything. That was simply because if you said something you wouldn't be able to stop talking.

"That's none of your business, Wekapipo.''

Before you could leave, he grabbed you by the arm.

''We're in the same boat, for the same reason. I know you're not interested in the corpse and only want the good of Lucy Steel.'' He didn't maintain his grip when you released yourself from his grip. ''You're in a cold sweat, like someone about to do something stupid. What are you planning to do?''

"I... I'm going to see Lucy Steel at Independence Hall.'' You said, reluctantly. Your heart was pounding so hard that you couldn't breathe. ''I've been invited... I mean, I'm waiting for confirmation of the invitation.''

The long muscles in his throat rippled briefly as he swallowed, staring at you in disbelief.

"Good Lord.'' He muttered. ''You can't be serious.''

''And what's the problem? I told you, this is none of your business.''

''I have a debt to you, (Y/N), just as I have a debt to Gyro Zeppeli.'' He said firmly, his voice and diction that of a trained soldier. ''Not only for saving my life, but also for allowing me to have a second chance. If there is anything I can do to help you, I will do it without hesitation. After all, we both want to protect Lucy. But this is stupid.''

You hesitated, but you had to speak. The possibility had to be mentioned; whether your friends - or you - could do it or not.

"It's the president.'' You said, finally. "It's him... everything. The corpse, the race, the deaths... everything depends on him, don't you see?"