The Magician Of Vennat

Chapter 22

Alabaster swam all the way back to his house. It took longer than he thought; he didn't know how to get around the city from below. And some of the canals were treacherous to navigate with thrashing paddles stabbing down or powerful sea horse tails whipping around him.

It was early evening now. Just a few hours before the trial. Alabaster only had Amanda's weak plan B now. Weak plan B, almost not even worth bringing up. It was all he had left of her now. Except for the ink water. He stared at the wineskin glumly.

He should leave the canals now. Go back to the house. Maybe clean up a bit. The idea of him walking into the trial looking utterly defeated and soaked with dirty water was not appealing to him. He could picture the look on Shylock's face. It was already going to be bad enough.

Alabaster pulled himself onto the pier. His sodden clothes dragged at him, forcing his limbs down. He felt as low as they made him feel. Utterly dejected. He was beyond hope now. No one could save him now. He would have to pay for his stupidity. And he had no one to blame but himself.

When he opened the door, he found the hollow eyes of his Uncle glaring back him, suddenly not so hollow. They burned with an intensity that he had never seen before.

"What hell have you gotten yourself into, boy?" he demanded.

Alabaster found himself stammering for words. He hadn't expected to see his Uncle. He most definitely had never imagined that he'd have a confrontation with him.

"I, uh, well-" he began.

"I don't want to hear your mumbling!" his uncle said. "Speak decent language or I'll box your ears in!"

"How much do you know?" Alabaster asked.

"How much do I know?" the man roared. "Enough, that's what. Shylock's been snooping around, and I'll tell you I heard a good mouthful from him. What the heck where you thinking, you fool? What I am supposed to do with a one armed child, huh? Let me ask you that? You were supposed to support me in my old age? How are you going to do that now?"

"How was I supposed to know that I wouldn't get the sword?" Alabaster said. "I-"

"How where you supposed to know!?" his uncle exclaimed. "You actually thought you could break into a magician's house, and not just any magician's mind you, One Ear, and just steal the sword of Six Sorrows?"

When he put it that way, it did make Alabaster seem like an awful fool. He cringed inwardly. Maybe he had been stupid. Maybe he'd overestimated himself. Maybe he shouldn't have tried to show Shylock up. But what could he do about it now? Nothing. And he didn't appreciate his uncle yelled at him about it. He was sorry he'd done it, but he couldn't change anything.

"I'm sorry," Alabaster said. "I made a mistake."

"Made a mistake?" his uncle said with raised eyebrows. "I'll say you did. Why don't you ever think before you do things?" His fist went flying in the air, and Alabaster dodged it.

His uncle staggered, off balanced by the shift in weight. Alabaster had the perfect moment to counter attack. But he didn't. He looked his uncle straight in the eye. Watched as the man pulled his arm back and righted himself. The two looked at each other, long steady gazes.

His uncle's eyes were full of revulsion and scorn, hate and anger. They spoke of years to come when he'd be older than he was now, without a means of income. His contempt for Alabaster's stupid decision. And how low he was in his eyes.

Alabaster's eyes were full of betrayal and let down, disgust and an incredible sadness. Of not having the parental support when he'd needed it. Of not getting the upbringing he should have. Of not having someone there to tell him what was stupid and what wasn't. Of not having someone to go to when he'd need it. Of having to take care of the entire house while his uncle swigged drinks and passed out on the couch.

In that moment, the two understood each other better than they had in years. Maybe they'd never really understood each other. But now they could see.

"I don't want to see your face again," the bitter man said. "You're a disgrace to the family. Your father would be ashamed of you. And I won't have your face seen around my house."

Alabaster gave his uncle a long look, feeling strangely calm inside. There was no fear, no anxiety, nothing but something that felt strangely like being brave. And maybe if Alabaster thought he was brave, he would have recognized it, but as it was he mounted the stairs without looking back.

"I am not the disgrace," he said. And he didn't say the end to that sentence because he didn't have to. His uncle heard it perfectly.