The Charlatan

17. Beating a Dead Horse

"How did you earn the title of Vulghebt?"

Honey broke the silence during the group's afternoon of lunching. The trio of outlaws were stopped behind a barn in the countryside outside the Citadel, having travelled a couple of days north on foot without a word. Clara frowned.

"I am not really such a vulgar and irresponsible worker. It was Air who gave me the title after we met," she answered. Her gaze trained upon him longer than usual, and she looked concerned.

"The first complete sentence you said to me was "Fuck off." It's natural to make such assumptions," Air defended, amused. Clara rolled her eyes. Honey's interest waned somewhat. She had thought the Veltie different from the stereotypical law-beholden citizen of the riches-obsessed country of Velt, perhaps a rebellious vigilante or courier-turned-spy. Something exciting. She certainly holds a guarded air, Honey thought to herself.

Clara was the first to stand once the trio had finished their meals. She looked back southward; Honey followed her gaze over the plains to where The Falls leaping off the Citadel splashed into the Polar Light River. The river's eastern branch stretched far beyond her line of sight, into the sea. "My goal is to reach the cliffside on the Genesese side of the border by moonrise," Clara announced, still fixated on the distant rapids.

"You often look at what is far beyond rather than at what is near to you," Honey commented aloud. Clara tensed and turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "There is no need to be fearful of me," Honey elaborated. "I do not harm those who have done me a favour. Similarly, if you wish to speak to your friend," she indicated Air, "It is better to seize the moment than to let things simmer."

Honey's sudden advice caught Clara and Air off guard. Honey merely kept silent and waited. She was an honest person, first and foremost. One did not survive in the wilds by tip-toeing around her companions for the sake of their, or her, pride. Honey was getting annoyed.

"Those magicks again," Air grumbled as he shot Honey a glare. Unperturbed, Honey addressed him.

"Contrary to popular belief, Seers have not cultivated special magical powers to read a person's thoughts. There are no 'magicks' involved here; I am simply good at reading people."

Clara gave her a mixed look of confusion and amusement before turning to Air. "I am aware that I lied to you after we met, and continued to be less than pleasant for far longer than you deserved," she fidgeted and grimaced, "I would like to believe that we are closer now, after... all that has happened. Even in this short time."

"Don't delay, tell me your thoughts," Air interrupted. Clara took a breath as Honey continued to watch the exchange.

"Honey mentioned that you may be travelling with me for reasons I do not fully understand, and I wish to know. You were very quick to help me. You know a bit of my story, and I'd like to know more about yours," Clara said.

Air's open and inviting expression immediately greyed. Honey wasn't certain if Clara caught the subtle shift in his features, the hardening of his jaw and pursing of his lips, but Air's response clearly conveyed what he thought of this particular topic.

"That is not your business."

Clara seemed taken aback, and did not respond right away. Air took advantage of this and looked Honey in the eye while he addressed Clara. "You would trust this Seer, whom you just met, more than me? Clara, that is a madwoman's decision." Clara narrowed her eyes and spoke up again in Velte. Unfortunately, Honey could not pick up details beyond the basics, having never been good at following the language's tonal system. She could pick up a lot from body language, however, and was surprised when Clara took a step to stand in front of her. She was defending her.