An Immortal's Favour

Jack- Advice

For the next couple of hours, we wandered through Il. Gale City Museum, a building in the old Akazian style, with its dark brown walls and modest architecture. As the two of us looked through what was on display, I could've beat myself over the head; I'd only just gone about and created more trouble where there needn't have been any. Not to mention the fact that I'd pretty much called the woman useless. Gale gave the odd comment every once in a while, but she didn't say much as we neared the pillars at last; any and all attempts at an apology essentially flew over her head. An absent-minded nod and a quiet 'It's fine' was all I could get out of her.

The Crooked Pillars stood directly beneath one of the chandeliers and seemed to take up the entire room. The two cuts of brown rock- remnants of King Bavad's great bath house, according to a plaque -were encased by a box of glass, and you could make out the carved graffiti in the stone if you leaned in close enough. Some were crude and others downright outlandish. A short poem stood out to me.

Oh, noble one,
So sharp in tongue,
And cold in heart,
No wonder she had to depart.

"Hey," I called to Gale, "come and look at this."

She came over, peering closely at the words, and her mouth fell open. "How awful."

"Guess King Bavad was a heartbreaker. Some things just don't change, even if you go as far back as 300 A.D.B."

Gale nodded faintly. "Yes."

"I'm surprised you can read this at all. And old Haba no less."

"I speak seven languages." She shrugged.

"I'm impressed. I know six and can get by in a couple."

She nodded again. "And they prove useful?"

"They do, but I study for fun." I shoved my hands into the pockets of my coat, leaning back from the pillars. "Let's check out the rest of this floor, then."

We left not long after, filling the ensuing hours with awkward talk and quiet naps in the shelter of cafés before spending the night on the road, waiting for the sun to peek over the horizon.

At noon the next day, I took another break from driving. Gale sat slumped in one of the back seats, her eyes closed, seemingly asleep. We'd been through a few towns already, and were just passing through the outskirts of another. I stopped at an off-licence, taking the chance to refuel at the petrol station out front.

I made sure to grab a Sundial newspaper, folding it in two as I headed over to the counter to pay for it, along with the petrol. Loose change clinked in the pocket of my slacks, and I used some of it to get two sandwiches as well. When I got back into the car, I handed one over to Gale, who smiled gratefully.

"Thank you."

I pulled out of the station, parking on the side of the road, and skimmed through the front page of Sundial. Of course, that Karlton kid had his story plastered all over it.

The 'Fraud of the Decade'.

Shit. Having something like that pinned on you...But it's not like I knew anything- not properly. As far as I was aware, Karlton could've bribed that girl to cover for his father. Still, the papers really knew how to twist things.

And Desmond Jones, that honest, friendly guy...He'd have been my last guess. For so long, the man had been untouchable, overseeing the growth of his empire. And who hadn't popped into a Jones' Eaterie without feeling that warmth, that familiarity? Not that it'd be there for much longer.