Raven

Chapter Sixteen - Silver

That night, we're all gathered for dinner around the place, and noodles is on the menu. I have a little carton of lemon noodles to myself, and I'm not sure what everyone else has, but I know that mine's delicious, since I've had it before. And it smells amazing. Like cildhood memories.

But I notice another thing, when Wills announces that we can eat; Harley is still MIA. Noticing the leader's absent-minded expression, I assume that he knows where everyone in the group is, and isn't worried ... or hasn't noticed. Which is what makes me nervous. My imagination cooks up several scenarios, none of them good, and I stir my half-eaten pasta uncertainty. My heartbeat quickens, still unsure of what my friend is doing. You're still worrying, Ese ... you know that won't help, I chide myself mentally. I force a weak smile to my lips for the others' sake, placing my half-eaten noodles on my right side, and wince at the twinge of pain at my waist. My appetite is gone as of now.

I stand up, give a small nod at Kira's enquiring look, and head for my room. It occurs to me that I could simply put the remaining present in his room, but I feel faintly ill now and decide against it. I sit down on my bed, without pain from my injuries, staring at the one remaining bag and zoning out. I shift my weight, though, and something crackles underneath me. It sounds like paper. I frown, and stand up- much too quickly. I grit my teeth as my side gives another flash of pain, but notice that I'm correct in the fact that I was sitting on paper.

I sit back down slowly, smoothing out the material, and recognise the messy but legible handwriting as that of my friend. Sorry for being the invisible man today, I needed to be by myself. Bad memories. I've got your present, too. Come to the archery range at ten, and I'll give it to you. - Acrobolt

I wonder how he got past us- this note wasn't here when I came out for dinner ... As the thought runs through my mind, I dismiss it, and decide to ask Acrobolt when I see him. I glance at my phone, which rests on my small table: it reads 9:00. So I've got an hour to kill before I need to be there ... I decide to draw.

Getting out my art supplies, I sit back down on my bed, and lean back against the pillows. As I relax, I try to picture what I want to draw- chances are, it won't turn out well, but I've been told that I'm a good drawer anyway. I pick out a lead pencil, and begin to sketch, the lines flowing as if they had already been there, and I was uncovering a hidden illusion. It soothes me, but takes patience, and I focus on drawing for what feels like only a few minutes, but when I glance at my phone, I see that forty-five minutes have passed, so my clock now reads 9:45.

"Oops," I mumble, quickly stashing away my drawing materials. I then stand up slowly, stretching and pulling a face as a light drizzle begins to fall outside. Great. Rain. Just what I wanted. I feel a cold stone of fear drop into my stomach, for some reason, as I watch the rain hitting the window for a second, before I pick up a spray jacket (black, naturally) to put over my sleeveless shirt (since it's summer), and walk out through the main room to climb down the tree.

When my feet touch the ground, I see that the drizzle has stopped, and the sky has cleared somewhat. It's a full moon tonight, so I can see my way as I walk along the path to the archery range. I check my phone, which I bought a while before I joined the Crime Lords. Anyway, it reads 9:58 when I reach the wooden fence that we stand behind to shoot at the standard targets. I glance around, taking a look for any potential threats. Apart from being bitten by something poisonous, there aren't really any. So, I relax ever so slightly, and climb up on the wooden pole, which is supported about a metre off the ground by four other, shorter stands. I look along the smooth but worn timber, and estimate its length to be about five metres.

Anyway, I stand up on the beam, sandshoes and all, and smile as the pole holds my weight easily. Good. I begin to walk back and forth, remembering my small amount of gymnastics training when I was younger. Point your toes. Straighten your spine. Chin up. Focus. Smile. As I remember, I think back to when I was training. Beam had been my favourite apparatus, though I was and still am best at floor; I had a bit of a 'habit' of looking down at the beam to see where I was stepping. I swing my right leg behind me, testing my balance, and to my delight, I don't fall off. My bullet wound doesn't even twinge. Then I lean my torso forward, leg still extended behind me, and-

"What are you doing?"

At the sudden voice, I start in surprise, and lose my balance on the beam, tumbling towards the voice by pure accident. "Woah!" I cry out, hitting something soft, then falling to the ground next to it. I roll to avoid hurting myself, and sit up, wincing as my side hurts. I groan in faint annoyance as I figure out exactly what - no, who - it is that made me fall off. "Damn it, Harley, I was concentrating," I complain, standing up with a small amount of difficulty and then extending a hand to help him up. The right thing to do, considering I fell on him.

He takes my outstretched hand, and stands up, smiling. I pick up the bag, and hold it up for him to see. "Merry Christmas, Bolts," I smile, forgetting what had just happened and sitting back down on the pole. He picks up a small box, sits down next to me, and hands it to me as I pass my present to him.

Harley opens my gift to him first, and gives a quiet laugh at my attempt at a good present. Not a mean laugh, but one of genuine amusement. I begin to explain. "It's awful, I know, but-"

He cuts me off with a wave of his hand, and puts the eye mask on. "Nah, I like it. The eye mask fits, the belt will be useful, and the drawing is just ... cute."

Cute. I spent an hour on it, that's nothing compared to what I can do. I smile a little wider, and Harley gestures to the smallish parcel in my hands. "Go on, Tweety ... open it."

I take a small breath before I open it, carefully so I don't ruin the wrapping paper. An old habit of mine. Under the paper, I find a box. Like you would get from a jeweller's. I blink at the box, expression blank. What the hell is going on here? Is this what I think it is? At this point, I'm beginning to panic slightly in my mind, but, ever calm, Harley nods. "Open it."

I take another deep, slow breath, and open the box. There lays a beautiful necklace, the chain simply silver, but it is the pendant that I pay the most attention to. In the shape of an oval, it is engraved with a faint design of swirls, and a gemstone sits, embedded in the lid. Dark blue- a sapphire. I slide my fingernail down the catch on the side, and the locket opens up to reveal a small photo of the group in costume on one side, but it is empty on the other. I give my friend a questioning glance, and Harley shrugs.

"I figured you might want to choose what picture you put in the other slot," he explains, and I can't help the smile that begins to stretch onto my face. Unusually shy, because I have no idea what is going on right now with my emotions.

"It's beautiful ... no-one's ever gotten me something like this. Thank you." Without another word, I slip the necklace from its case, and place over my head, so that the pendant settles a little below my collarbone. He stands up, and I follow suit. "Hey, um, Harley? Why'd you vanish today?"

The easygoing smile that my friend so often wears vanishes without a trace, replaced by a look of inner conflict. He shakes his head after a moment. "I- I can't tell you. Not right now. Goodnight." Without another of those curt words, he strides off into the trees, back towards the base. Confused and slightly hurt, I head back as well when I know that he's far enough ahead that our paths won't cross.