Bo and the Beast (Book #1) (Completed)

37. A "Royal" Summons

When the tent flaps closed behind Bo, she sighed in relief and ripped the bandana from her mouth. Orange dust floated in clouds to the floor as she shook herself off and then flopped into the chair by her dad's cot. He looked up from his worn playing cards and smiled.

"How is the outside world?" he asked.

Bo twisted her lips and peered over his arm at the neat lines of cards on the board across his lap. He'd taken to playing a game from his youth, something Bo didn't have the patience for learning. She did like the way he'd stare at the cards for minutes on end, tapping the one in play against his lips as he thought out his moves in order to win. It was something for him to do, something to occupy his mind. They could sit in silence for hours, staring at those cards, just happy to be with each other once again.

"Well, I'll just say that it's better than it could be," Bo replied, sitting back in her chair and placing her hands behind her head.

"Mm? Something happening out there that I don't know about?" he asked, his eyes still glued to the cards. Bo eyed him before answering. Sometimes he'd ask questions, and before she could get more than a few words out, he'd have fallen asleep with that small crease between his eyebrows which meant his old wounds were bothering him.

"It's just Aston being his normal stubborn self," she said, kicking her boots up to rest on the edge of the cot and leaning her head back to stare at the tent roof above her. "I'm thoroughly blaming you for not spanking him more when he was a kid. He could've used a good wallop every now and again to remind him that he's not the king of all he surveys."

She laughed, tilting her head back down to see that smile of her dad's... but all she saw was his head slowly sinking forward, his eyes fluttering shut, his hand stilling. Asleep again. She sighed, sitting up and leaning over to remove the card table and tuck his blanket in. His breathing was slow, but steady, and Bo supposed that was all she could wish for. She ran a hand through his white hair, straightening it out from the mess of bedhead it seemed permanently stuck in now.

While Dad slept, Bo got up to clean her rifle at the table. She'd forgotten just how pervasive the dust was, and how much she had to clean everything. She pulled the weapon apart, laying out the pieces in neat rows and lines, making sure she'd be able to find everything when it came time to reassemble. Then, she got to work with a rag and some oil, polishing and wiping all the grit from springs and crevices. Mindless work, but comforting. She lost herself in her thoughts as she went methodically through every little piece of her rifle, until she'd forgotten where she even was.

"Stop moping."

Bo startled back into the real world, her oiled rag and rifle barrel nearly tumbling to the ground. She caught them at the last second, looking up through her sheet of hair to see Felicia barely containing an annoyed eye roll at the sight.

"Bo, you look like someone died. And since I know for a fact that everyone is alive and well and that you should be happy that you're finally free, I really don't see why that expression has to be on your already unpleasant face."

Bo bit back the first scathing retort that leapt to mind, and instead took a moment to calm her stoked anger by finishing up polishing the barrel of her gun.

"I'm not moping, so really there's nothing for you to keep talking to me about," Bo replied, forcing a tight smile.

Felicia scoffed and sat down on the chair next to Bo. Neither sister was particularly happy about the arrangement, but being forcefully kept apart did bring more awareness about family. So Bo didn't shove her sister away, and Felicia had reigned in most of the insults.

"All right," Felicia said. "I'll probably regret saying this, but the camp needs you to just suck it up and start being a leader again. This little hermit act you're pulling isn't helping anyone, and, as much as it hurts me to say, you actually did a competent job of keeping everyone safe and happy."

"Aston's the leader now, in case you haven't noticed him parading that fact around."

Felicia shrugged. "Well, maybe you can be leaders together."

Bo's eyes narrowed and she looked up sharply. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing." Felicia messed with one of the screws to Bo's rifle before Bo smacked her hand away.

Just then, the tent flap pulled back and a man stuck his head in. He glanced around until his eyes fell on Bo and Felicia at the table, and he gave them a brief nod of greeting.

"Aston would like to see Bo at the soonest possible moment," he said.

"All right, thanks, Saul," Bo said. The man ducked back out and Bo quickly reassembled her rifle. When her rifle was cleaned and whole once again, and Bo had wiped most of the grease off her hands, she took a deep breath and faced the opening of the tent. Aston summoning her wasn't something that usually happened, and she feared what he might say.

She clenched her fists and dove out into the orange light, heading for what was sure to be an argument and lots of yelling.