A new mission - Part 2

Sitting in the uncomfortable wooden chairs, Blur found herself nodding off so she reached out for a large chocolate-chip biscuit Mama Cook had placed on the table before retreating from the room once again, just as it was snatched away by a quick hand.

 

“Hardy! I need that sugar to keep me going!” She said, slightly ticked off, but it was too late.

 

“Sorry,” He said, making the mashed and mutated cookie in his mouth quite clear, “You can have it if you want,” and he gave a toothy grin, purposefully filling the gaps between his teeth with splodges of cream and brown.

 

Repulsed, Blur muttered, “Thanks, but no thanks.”

 

“Really?” His face retained the look of a scolded puppy, “I could feed it to you penguin style.”

 

“Yuck. You know, sometimes I think Pages has the right idea about you,” she said with an expression that probably resembled the woman in question.

 

“That’s just below the belt,” Hardy sulked.

 

“Not that you’d have anything to hit down there,” she said, trying her hardest to stay in a good mood.

 

Hardy muttered, “You would know,” to which he was awarded a friendly punch to the shoulder, perhaps a bit too hard, but it was received and understood; I might be more friendly than Pages towards you, but I’m tired, don’t push me.

 

To keep her mind occupied, Blur switched to analysing the room, hoping that it would engage her enough to remain adequately ‘with the living’. It was decently sized and the only room in the entire cave system that was actually painted; a dirty cream, which had once been white, with pieces here and there flaking off, like they too were trying to escape the boredom of that wall. Or maybe they were falling asleep and were forgetting to hold on. There were also numerous holes in the walls, whether from removed nails or the incident a few months ago where someone went berserk and decided forks were a great thing to throw at peoples’ heads. Exactly adjacent to the door was an elaborate map of the entire forest, the only one they had of every inch of the Midnight Wood, Blur wouldn’t be surprised if it was the only one out of the Hierarchy’s grasp. The corners were bent and curled from being manhandled so many times, there was a slight tear in the upper left hand corner and the colours were faded and merged, although still readable. Oh look, up there in the far side of the room on the ceiling, an abandoned spider web. Bugs were the only thing that could get past their tight security, whether it be insects or the ones that cause illness.

 

Apart from that, the walls were completely bare so Blur moved on to the table, oval in shape, and the extraordinary people surrounding it. To her left there was Hardy, still munching on her cookie, and to her right Pages, examining the many scraps of paper scattered across the table, they must have contained new information because there was a slight peacefulness playing in her eyes; the only times Blur ever saw Pages peaceful were when she was extracting and assimilating fresh facts and figures. She wasn’t even peaceful when she slept. Then, moving on from Pages, there was Huegei, a small amphibious-like man with dark consuming eyes and legs springier than a frog’s, Crème, who had the ability of liquefying himself, Tut and Ram, the ancient elf brothers, Open-eye, the top lookout, who got his name from the obscene, bulbous... things in his head, Kadnap, a huge lady, ex-Snatcher with the same characteristic thickness, and Gadget, an old inventor who gave the impression of a withered flower, what with his bent over body and dulling magenta hair.

 

Blur was quickly running out of things to occupy herself and was, once again, drifting off into nothingness... eyelids drooping... going limp... falling...

 

BANG!

 

The sound was a mix between Chief opening the door with such ferocity that it shook off the lose pieces of paint and sent them fluttering lazily to the floor and the dull sound of Blur’s head hitting the (really) hard table. One, the other or both jolted her into a stiff upright position and did the very thing she was trying not to do; make Chief notice her.

 

“You’re back,” He said characteristically simply.

 

Not quite sure where to go from here, Blur said, “Yep.” Now how is this going to play out?

 

“Why?”

 

Another simple word. Easy enough:

 

“My job expired.”

 

“Why?”

 

Knowing the question was coming didn’t make it any easier to answer, and the longer she waited, the tenser the atmosphere would get. She could already feel it rising, but stumbling on words wouldn’t help either. Best to just keep to a truth stripped to the bone.

 

“I was dealing with a force beyond my power, the girl I was watching was lured away from me and was taken,” maybe a bit self blame would help, Blur thought, so she added in a slightly pained voice, “from right underneath my nose.”

 

Silence.

 

Rising tension.

 

Chief’s deep brown eyes, staring into Blur’s.

 

A growing fire behind them, the stare becoming burning.

 

Mustn’t look away.

 

“You failed.”

 

Direct. Ouch. Hurt more than Blur would’ve thought, but not sure why; maybe she was fonder of Maya than she first thought.

 

Blur knew, without even looking, that Pages was building up her vocal weaponry, like she did every time she was preparing to stand up for the people she cared about. She was just waiting for the right moment.

 

“You failed,” Chief said again more assertive, his voice growing stronger in anger with every word, “You let the fairy take her away to God knows what. Why didn’t you sniff out the luring spell. You do realise her age, don’t you? At her age she’s too old to be made a changeling double, they’re probably going to sell her on the black-market and in those dirty places she’ll have to deal with more than just wandering hands, or maybe she’ll be used at a baiting, or maybe, if she’s lucky, they’ll just KILL HER!”

 

“I don’t know why I didn’t sense the luring spell, maybe it was too powerful, but I do know what she’s going into,” Blur said, in an even tone. This anger was like a forest fire; you just had to cut off all sources of fuel, “She’s going to be married.”

 

“Good,” He declared, viciously, “At least now we know how she’s going to suffer. Well done Blur for consoling me.”

 

Cue Pages to douse the fire, “The fairy in question was Kel, son of Zipsione, leader of the Hierarchy I believe.”

 

“You can’t expect her to compete with that.”

 

That was said by two voices at once; two very unlikely voices to be put together.

 

Pages looked at Hardy for a moment or two and said, faintly baffled, “Don’t ever do that again.”

 

“Don’t worry,” He answered, “I don’t plan on ever doing or saying the same thing as you. Ever. I might actually end up being like you.” He shuddered.

 

Oh, here we go, Blur thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

 

“Yes, Lord forbid Hardy actually becoming... responsible,” Pages shot back, sarcastically.

 

“I was thinking more, dried up prune, or potential mad cat-lady, or future miserable old woman with b***s down to her ankles, or-”

 

“Perhaps we should start the meeting,” Tut interjected quickly upon noticing Pages’ raised fist.

 

“Yes,” Ram agreed, surveying the people involved in the last three minutes of conversation, playfulness behind his bright green eyes, “before someone becomes too preoccupied with the floor.”