Inheritance

Part 2. Chapter 12: Blank Face

Pollyanna stretched her long arms and legs. She felt her muscles loosen and even crack. She smiled with a sigh and felt like she could finally relax after the horror that was the ball. Her dress was still in tatters and she hoped she and Eory could find a place to bathe soon and replace their clothes.

She enjoyed the breeze for a moment and inhaled the fresh air. Her nostrils took in the fragrance of nearby gardenias being carried on the wind.

She scolded herself for relaxing after a moment, however, because she remembered that she should not only be trying to drag Eory back out of Taylor, but she should also be probing Syria for information about the contract. She should be trying to figure out a way to get her charge safely out of this situation—or at the very least, preparing to protect him from the deadly doppelgangers who thrived within the Crater.

The old woman was distracted, however, by the alien feelings of worry and longing worming their way into her heart.

She kept thinking about how pleasant it felt to have Eory's hand on her cheek. The hand seemed to be warm and caring, silken and sincere.

She felt that unfamiliar, and yet familiar, churning and sick feeling in her stomach and wished it would go away.

She thought of those compliments the fairy had thrust upon her at the ball—how he had said even the younger women paled in comparison to her beauty--and couldn't help but feel flushed and weak at the memory.

No man, especially any young men, had given her such attention in a very long time.

She chastised herself for falling for such cheesy lines, but coming from someone like Eory, she knew they weren't lines at all.

He was sincere about almost everything he said.

That was what made her heart skip a beat.

"Hey oaf," Pollyanna heard a voice say.

She turned around and saw the sassy Taylor with her hands planted on her hips. "What's with the red cheeks?"

When Pollyanna didn't answer, a melodramatic gasp escaped Taylor's lips. "Don't tell me! You have feelings for me! You'll surely never make it to your human Paradise if you fantasize about a girl!"

Pollyanna truly disliked this personality that Eory's mother had rightly smothered. She wanted the man back. "I'm not fantasizing about you, Eory. Time to stop fooling and come back out. You don't need to hide behind this ugly personality."

Taylor pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes for a moment, and then a mischievous twinkle sparkled in her rosy eyes.

She grabbed Pollyanna's shoulders and lowered the taller woman so she could wrap her arms around her neck.

"Do you want me to kiss you? I could order you to if it's too awkward for you to ask me for one." She put on a solemn face—a heartachingly sincere and mopy one that Eory would make—and made her voice deeper to fool the old warrior-maiden into thinking she had turned back into Eory.

She had Eory's soft, delicate features, but she also had his strong and firm stance.

Pollyanna looked into Taylor's eyes quietly and was almost fooled by her act. The old woman's large, blue eyes became glassy, and she lifted a wrinkled hand to touch the fairy's soft face. Taylor leaned her cheek into Pollyanna's hand. The old woman's heart melted, and she could look no where else but into the fairy's eyes.

Pollyanna whispered, "Eory, is that you?"

Taylor nodded quietly, but then her face began bubbling with barely-contained amusement. Finally, she shrieked with laughter. "Goddesses! Are you truly in love with that wet blanket of a boy!"

Feeling foolish and taken advantage of, Pollyanna slammed her palm into Taylor's chest and pushed her away.

There was momentarily a sharp pang of pain in Pollyanna's heart for shoving her master, but she recovered in a moment and then watched the still-giggling Taylor prance over to the waif, Them.

After that, with her old heart still pounding, she turned her attention to Syria who was stoically watching all of the conscripted criminals stretch. She watched with her own arms clasped immovably in front of her.

Pollyanna approached the elfess and didn't know precisely what she was going to ask her, but she started with, "is it possible to see the contract?"

The elfess shook her head. "No. Once it has been signed, I can't show it to you again. There is no way out."

Pollyanna never liked regular, snooty elves, but Astral Elves--who shared the same common ancestry with regular elves--seemed to be elves on an entirely different level of ruthlessness, intimidation, and snootiness. Pollyanna remembered long ago, when she was still young and her hair was still as black as the night sky, meeting an Astral Elf. At the time, they were the only kind of elves around as their ancestry had not split yet.

The Astral Elf who had rescued her was a handsome one; seven-feet-tall just like her, and Pollyanna would be lying if she said she didn't find him irrefutably handsome.

Pollyanna's home village had been burning, and the Astral Elves had intervened as they tended to do in problems that were not their own. The handsome Astral Elf swept her up on his horse and they rode to safety.

The elf was logical, but emotionless; seemingly compassionate, but with no kind words. He put a strong hand on her shoulder when they were far from her village while she wept and said, "no tears, girl. The world is unkind, and you should save your tears for when you truly realize just how unkind it can be."

Because the words were emotionless, they sounded cruel even though they were meant to be encouraging. It took her a long time, but Pollyanna had eventually taken those words to heart.

She had come to love those words, but she hated the man they had come from. She hated everyone who did not live passionately and looked down on those who did.

She thought much the same thing when she looked at Syria. A high and mighty, insincere woman who could not hide her belittling nature behind her seemingly vacant eyes.

"If there is no way out," Pollyanna replied, "then tell me, now, how we are to kill these doppelgangers as safely as possible."

"You will all be apprised and trained in the most efficient ways to kill the creatures. I know you, my lady, are already aware of what they are, considering your age, even if you don't know how to kill them." She said it in a monotone voice, but Pollyanna couldn't help but think there was a hint of insult buried deep beneath it.

Pollyanna scowled and her nose twitched in rage.

She looked at the elfess' perfectly soft, angelic skin and felt ashamed of her weathered and rough skin. She turned on her heel and murmured to herself, "yes, I know what they are. They are the mistake that you foolish Astral Elves are still paying for."

The elfess was unphased by her insult, and she called to all of the conscripted criminals who were gathered around, "there is a clean stream nearby for you all to bathe in. If you would like to rinse off, now is your chance. I will give you fifteen minutes."

Taylor jumped for joy and screamed, "I need a rinse!"