[crow]

(continued from here)

It was a long walk back to the city. During that time, Akala was forced to appreciate more than ever the acute differences in their heights, and the lengths of their legs. Faber, for all his skinny frame, and for all that he must have tripped upwards of thirty times throughout, looked barely fazed by the journey. Akala was breathing hard by the time he made it to the city gates. Darkness was beginning to fall around them, and he was forced to be glad to have gone at such a brisk pace. He could handle himself well enough, but he didn't fancy his chances of leading Faber around after dark. It was too likely that he'd lose the boy, or vice versa.

Faber, for his part, had been quiet most of the trip. He was a difficult one to make out, and Akala wavered between writing him off as a foolish young creature and wondering if his appearance was a disguise. Each appealed to him in turn, and he couldn't help but glance sidelong at the boy from time to time.

[crow]

If he was to find out one way or the other, however, it wouldn't be tonight. He resigned himself to a thwarted curiosity, and concentrated his efforts on finding his way home. The street lights were already on, casting their glow over the streets. He walked with the confidence of long practice, and looked at nothing. Lamenolai was respectable, as far as cities went, but no place was without its shadows and underbelly, and Akala lived in one of the less respectable neighborhoods. A single man of questionable occupation and no significant fortune could do worse, he supposed, but the bottom line was still that he was trading a little safety for a manageable rent.

He walked up the steps to his apartment, looking behind him every now and again to make sure his companion was still there. "It ain't fancy," he warned. "I live alone, but there's a couch you can crash on, and there's food in the fridge if you want it. Don't suppose you cook, by any chance?"

[crow]

"Sure I cook. S'mores, instant noodles... Oh, I can make a real mean roast squirrel," Faber said, which gave Akala ample idea as to how he'd been getting by. It was no wonder that he was so skinny; Akala only wondered that he had managed to catch a squirrel at all, let alone enough to become proficient in their preparation.

"Nevermind," he said.

At the very topmost floor, Akala finally stopped, and fumbled around in his pockets for a key. Faber strummed a chord on his guitar. It echoed through the stairwell, moreso than their voices had earlier. Greatly amused, Faber strummed the guitar again. "Mind if I practice here? I could learn to play a duet with myself."

[crow]

Sure he could, and he'd wake up half the neighbors with his music too. "That's a no," Akala said, in a tone that brooked no argument. Faber seemed disappointed, but disappointment was a part of life. Besides, if he wanted to practice in a place with an echo, he could go back to those thrice-condemned caverns. There had been plenty of echo there.

Akala managed to find the key, and the door swung open shortly with a click. He turned the lights on, and was embarrassed at the apartment's state of disarray for all of two seconds before he remembered who his guest was. "Make yourself at home," he said, closing the door behind Faber as he walked in. The boy needed only that much invitation before he flopped gracelessly onto the couch, displacing several pieces of clothing in the process, not to mention a dirty dish or two.

[1][1]

[crow]

Akala paused a moment to keep an eye on him, but Faber only moved a few things out of the way to make himself comfortable, before fiddling with his guitar again. Just how much tuning did it need? Ah, but Akala didn't know anything of instruments himself. He was no musician, and fancied that he liked a bit of something to listen to while he worked now and again, but that was as far as his interest went when it came to music itself. He knew a few songs--- some from childhood, others from an excess of repetition--- but his singing voice was nothing to excite any expectations.

At any rate, Faber seemed content not to make any trouble, which was almost more than Akala had expected. Leaving the boy on the couch, he wandered into the bathroom, where he examined his own face in the small dingy mirror.

[crow]

What he saw didn't please him in the least, but it was no surprise. He looked haggard. His hair was a mess; there were dark circles under his eyes; and he needed a shave. The latter was unexpected, and he thought he must have been gone for longer than he imagined. That brought Faber's assertions about time-jumping to mind, and his head throbbed in warning. There would be no more thinking of that tonight, if he wanted to avoid that migraine.

There was nothing to do about any of it for the moment except to wash his face and brush his teeth. That shave could wait, and he had some hope that the rest of the problems would be alleviated by a good night's sleep, and perhaps a shower come morning. As he stepped out of the bathroom, he said, "There's a spare toothbrush in there for you. Should be easy to tell which."

[crow]

Faber was absorbed in his guitar. Akala hadn't heard it over the noises of the pipes, but the boy had evidently finished tuning his instrument at long last, and had begun to play a song. It needed accompaniment--- drums, mostly, but the chords were just simple enough to suggest that there was a vocal to go with it too, maybe. Still, to Akala's novice ear, Faber didn't sound half bad. "Hey, kid. You in a band or something?"

Faber looked up, and grinned his slow grin. "You call me 'kid' and I'm gonna have to call you 'sir' again," he said, but his tone didn't suggest that he'd mind the change.

Akala sighed. His own face in the mirror had given him enough of a scare. He didn't want any more cause to feel old. "Point taken," he said.

[crow]

Faber didn't bother to answer his question, but Akala figured it wasn't important enough to pursue the matter further. He stayed until the end of the song, thinking perhaps that the boy would say something then, but Faber only launched into another one. "Toothbrush is there if you want it," he said again. "I'll skin you alive if you use mine, got that?" There was no heat in his voice, and it had been mostly a joke. Faber gave no indication of having heard him, but he wasn't playing loud enough that Akala's voice would have been drowned out. And hey, it wasn't his problem if Faber didn't want to brush his teeth either. He was only giving the kid a place to stay for the night, not offering to mother him. With that done, Akala went directly to his room, and didn't bother to turn the light on as he closed the door behind him.

[crow]

There was no point in turning on the light. He already knew what he would see if he did. His room was exactly as he left it, filled with empty cans and bottles. He kicked a few out of the way as he felt his way to his bed. The springs creaked as he sat down on the edge. A few slivers of light broke through the blinds, bent and misaligned as they were from years of abuse. These pooled on the floor opposite the door, some of them glinting off the scattered bottles and throwing more green-orange fragments through the darkened room. He looked at them, and his head was filled with thoughts about the shard, but those thoughts were half-formed and didn't go anywhere. He was so tired.

His sheets were cold, and his clothes were uncomfortable, but at this point Akala couldn't have cared less. He laid himself down, not even bothering to cover himself with the blanket, and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

[2][2]

[crow]

The next morning, Akala awoke, not fully recovered from the events of the day but feeling more like himself. A cursory glance at the clock assured him that it was, in fact, still morning. He should have been relieved. He had people to see, things to set straight, and to waste half the day in sleep would have been undesirable, but all of those things were starting to seem insignificant.

Sleep had offered his mind some time to mull over the events, and while exceedingly bizarre, he had to conclude that they weren't impossible. After all, they had happened, and to him at that. It wasn't as if he was hearing this all as a second-hand account from someone. He could think about it now without inciting a headache, but he didn't know whether he was happy about that either. The fact that he could seemed to lead inevitably to the conclusion that he should, and figuring it all out was going to be an undertaking in and of itself.

[crow]

If Akala had been alone, he might have fallen back into bed despite all his remembered obligations. He'd gone on impromptu trips before. Though he usually left some warning, he figured he couldn't have been gone more than a day, or two at best. His friends and acquaintances shouldn't have had any cause for real concern. But there was the more pressing matter of checking on his houseguest, and for that, Akala roused himself to his feet stumbled his way to the bathroom, and set about making himself passably presentable.

First was that shave he'd promised himself. After nicking himself twice with the razor, he cursed, washed off the foam with cold water and pinched himself for good measure before attempting it again. He nicked himself a third time, but he supposed that was as well as he was going to manage. Then he brushed his teeth, dragged a comb through the worst of the matting in his hair, and stepped out into the living room to see what had become of Faber.

[crow]

His concern wasn't entirely altruistic. In fact, the least part of it was out of care for the boy himself. Akala was mostly worried about what he had gotten up to. There wasn't much of value to steal in his house, and it was enough of a mess as it was, but he didn't trust Faber nearly enough to be certain that nothing had happened. He almost expected something unpleasant, even if he didn't know what it was.

He needn't have worried, however. Faber was still sound asleep, sprawled out on the couch, hugging his guitar. He slept on the opposite side from where the amp was attached; he hadn't even bothered to take it off. For that matter, his shoes were still on--- and now that Akala had a good look at them, he could see that they were just about ready to fall apart, though curiously they looked to have been of an expensive make.

[crow]

The boy was like a black hole of unknowns. Everything about him simply produced more questions, never answers. Not for the first time, Akala asked himself what he had gotten into, and could make no answer. He thought for a moment about rousing Faber, but decided against it. Let him sleep, for all Akala could care; if he wasn't awake, he couldn't give the man any more headaches.

Thus assured, Akala stepped back into the bathroom for that shower. He was forced to be glad to have woken in time for the morning after all. It was the only time the apartment had enough warm water for showering, aside from weekend evenings. The landlords were as cheap as the tenants, and Akala suspected that even this allowance was grudgingly given; the landlords probably preferred that none of their charges bathed at all.

[crow]

Then again, he noted with some grim amusement, a building full of smelly inhabitants was sure to drive down property values below even their current level. Maybe the warm water was a calculated business expense. There were public baths, but nobody worth their wits ever went there. In this neighborhood, most were fronts for much seedier business, and their facilities were as likely to make you less clean as more.

He turned on the water and took off his clothes as he waited for the pipes to warm. It felt good to be out of them. They had been sticky and stiff with dried sweat and grime, and peeled off his skin in a way he didn't want to think about. The shower itself felt even better. He could feel the unpleasantness washing off, and the warmth of the water helped relax what tensions sleep couldn't resolve.

[3][3]

[crow]

He washed his hair, then proceeded to scrub himself much more thoroughly than usual. He felt scraped nearly raw by the time he got out, but that was refreshing in its own way, and he donned clean clothes feeling very nearly human again. His adventure hadn't been so arduous, but he really had been afraid for his life for a part of it, and his subsequent rescue was perhaps the worst aspect of the journey. He was glad to be alive, but not eager to repeat it in the least. Now, in his dinky apartment, it felt unreal and far away despite the fact that it had only taken place yesterday.

He threw the dirty clothes into the laundry basket to deal with later and made his way to the kitchen. There were a lot of dishes in the sink, and still more scattered around the living room, but he managed to find a mostly-clean skillet and some eggs. These he cooked over the stove, humming a little to himself.