Ike Penworthy

Chapter |~ 11

Sorn stood across from the door, leaning against the wall and thinking. Pieces of a puzzle he hadn't known he was putting together were falling into place.

There were some things he wished to never hear, or understand, or even deal with. But Ink Penny and Ike Penworthy, were two things that needed to be dealt with and soon.

The door opened and Ink walked forth, unstartled at his mid-step pacing. She merely fell into her guardian mode and stood erect.

"Is something wrong with Lady Dutch, sir?"

For a moment he stuttered, not comprehending why she would think something was wrong with his sister. Of course why else would he be there but to talk about his sister?

"No." He finally said, although even to his own ears it sounded unsure. Ink raised a red brow, not convinced, but seeming to gather something from the situation that kept her from questioning him further. Clearing his thoughts, he straightened up. "No. There's nothing wrong with Dutch. I'm here to ask you a question, or two."

A startled blink was all the emotion Ink revealed. "I'm sure anything you need to know you can ask Cres–Ike Penworthy." Her slip did not go unnoticed, nor the hostile tone. And a slip he knew it to be since speaking with Livery about their disappearance after dinner the other night.

"Yes, I'm sure he could tell me many things, but not anything about you, especially not what I want to know."

"And what is that?"

"Your name would be one of them."

She didn't say anything, her jaw squaring.

"I've talked to Livery," he continued, "she had some interesting things to say about a man named Crest Ink–hey!"

His cuff had been grabbed and between a blur of motion he found himself inside her room, his back to the door and a thin blade to his throat.

"That name is a curse and the terror will descend upon you, do not speak of it lightly." Her blazing frost covered blue eyes held him more than the danger of the blade. She was completely intense and wild; pure animalistic. He'd forgotten how rusty her voice was and in a whisper it was grating.

When he didn't respond the knife dug deeper, slicing the top layer of skin. He tensed. "I understand?"

She stepped back, releasing him. The knife vanished and she gave a small bow. "Forgive me."

Sorn rubbed at his neck, unsure of how to handle the situation now that she seemed so threatening. The two-named man sure did have one thing right; the two-named woman was the perfect guardian for his sister. Although looking at her said otherwise. She stood with too much carelessness to be a trained warrior. Of course he was being stereotypical, as he was used to male guardians who took their jobs too seriously and didn't like to talk. Well, that last part she had down pat.

"I'd still really like to have your name." She remained unmoving in her silent reproach. "I could guess if you'd like." Still nothing. Not even a blink. "Really it's not hard to figure –."

"Then figure this," she said. Her tone was bored. "My name is mine, any name given to me other than mine will be the cause of death on the offender."

"Then I better get it right the first time, huh?" She'd obviously been trying to tell him off, but surprised him by inclining her head. "Your name is Ike Penworthy, although how you fit to it, I'm unsure. I knew many in the Penworthy family before they disappeared. Were you perhaps married to Stol or Hore?"

She shook her head slowly, sadness in her eyes. "Even my family, with their strangeness, opposed the marriage of brothers and sisters."

Sorn started. He hadn't thought her to be blood related. No Penworthy ever had a daughter, and, as far as he knew, Stol and Hore had not had a sister.