*
"How can you stand it?" I said, inching into the road by Il. Gale Uman.
"Stand what?"
I sighed. "Gale, what exactly did you do to become an immortal?"
Shifting in her seat, the immortal gave me a sidelong glance, clearly still confused. "I helped farmers. My husband was a trader, and I did what I could to ease the troubles of those farmers and the other people we had our dealings with. I, along with some helpers, did what could to manipulate the weather in their favour. Though that doesn't happen as often now."
"Just as I thought," I said under my breath, swerving into a new road. "Whoever's in charge of this immortal business is inconsiderate. How can you expect someone to do the same thing, over and over, for centuries on end? Times change. People change. They'll find other ways to help themselves."
"Jacob, I chose to do this."
"You shouldn't have. You can't expect people to depend on you forever."
I should've shut up. I should've said nothing. But I'd already started, and, gods, it was like a dam had broken.
Gale's round face drooped like her youngish features were being held down by the weight of my words. "We just stepped out of an uman filled with people who still look to me for aid."
"But do they? Because most of the Immortalians I know, rich, poor- whatever -they just get on. They look to you for comfort, maybe. A quick dedication, not even a request for a favour mind you, and they're off, carving out their lives on their own. They give you half an hour out of their week max."
"I couldn't have saved you if I hadn't become an immortal."
"Fine. But my point still stands. And, with you being the Immortal of Weather and all, it's a wonder you pulled it off to begin with."
Gale bit back a remark, shoving her arms over her waist and looking out of the window on her side. For a while, she didn't say anything, but admitted eventually, "I didn't lie to you if that's what you're suggesting. I am the one who got the brew to you when they thought you wouldn't make it."
"I didn't- I wasn't calling you-"
"Of course you weren't."
I don't know why I even cared. Years of pent-up frustration built from hearing about immortals non-stop might've been what set me off. Or, it could've been the principle that irked me. Why depend so much on someone else to live your life for you, solve your problems for you?
My thoughts wandered into dangerous territory. I dwelled on Father and his sports cars, his larger-than-life attitude, and his warmth. On his comforting, outwardly perfect, know-it-all outlook on anything and everything.
We came into the city centre, stopping in a crowded car park, and I looked towards Gale. "You said something about wanting to see the Crooked Pillars?"
"Mhm." She had her head in one of her hands. I got out and sped off to pay for a ticket, returning to place it between the windshield wipers. Gale still had her head balanced in one hand, eyes watching nothing in particular.
"Out we get. C'mon." I reached for her door handle, but she stayed seated. "Are you coming?"
Gale moved at snail's pace and stood beside the car, smoothing out the wrinkles in her coat. Grabbing my bag from one of the back seats, I shut the door to it and locked the car before checking for my wallet.
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.
I read on, catching a familiar name from time to time, thinking over the story. Mother didn't have to worry much about competition for food suppliers anymore. But the thought only left a bitter taste in my mouth.
Evening turned to dusk as we progressed towards the Tamaranian-Egordish boarder. There weren't many places to stop and get something hot to eat, only a few rundown grocery stores on the side of a country road. Gale insisted on picking a few things up, even though I'd said I wasn't that hungry.
The two of us settled on a bare cliff top, and I gathered dry branches and kindling as instructed, bringing them into a pile as Gale rummaged around for something. She brought out her stuff, arranging some of the items over the wood and setting the cooking pot down last.
"It's so sad, what happened to Karlton," she said.
"I suppose." I shifted over the grass, looking at the pieces of newspaper I'd torn up for the fire.
"But your mother benefits. That's something good, at least."
I squinted at the flames that'd started to lick at the kindling. "You know, she used to be a lawyer. Threw it all away for her startup. My grandparents were pretty ticked at that."
"Oh, I remember her telling me about this. She didn't stop shaking the whole way through, but she seemed more excited than anything."
"And now she's one of the richest people in the country," I breathed, folding my arms. "Who'd have thought selling frozen food would ever become a thing?"
Gale picked up a tomato, chopping it over the cauldron. She threw in some other ingredients, barely looking as she tossed them into the pot.
"Do you...even know what you're doing?" I asked.
"Does it matter?"
"Yes? This- whatever you're making -has to actually be edible. Here, let me see." I came closer. "Do you have a recipe in mind?"
"I don't need one."
"What else have you got in here?" I took her paper bags, looking in to find a random mess of vegetables and herbs, and peered into her pot to see what was in it already. "Looks like I'll have to improvise. Pass me the water; I need to wash off my hands."
I pulled together what I'd learned for college and made the most of what we had.
"It's wonderful out tonight, don't you think?" Gale said, head bent up at the sky.
"Mhm. Lovely." I concentrated on preparing the ingredients for our soup, ignoring her frustrated sigh.
"You need to see the magic in the world around you, Jacob."
"I don't need magic. And, besides, magic's no-" Gale quirked an eyebrow. Clearing my throat, I continued, "I'm fine with the way things are."
Brushing off my last comment, she said, "And your friends. What about them? Your lover, for example."
"I don't have a lover," I bit, placing the lid over the cauldron.
"I'm afraid for you. This trip was supposed to ease your mind, but you're not even enjoying yourself." She looked back down again, scooting over to place a comforting hand on my shoulder. I leaned into her touch, despite myself.
"I've had fun," I said indignantly. "What makes you think I haven't?"
Gale moved back, plucked the lid right off the pot and flicked her wrist over it, making the soup nearly bubble over the sides. She checked herself and softened her movements, allowing the soup to swirl around gently again. "Most of the time, your face is longer than that of the star-tailed aardvarks of the east."
I backed away from the fire and drew my legs to my chest. "Things aren't as simple as you think."
"But what if they are? You need closure."
"You're too optimistic. Look, everyone's moved on. And, for your information, I have closure. "
"Aardvarks." I rolled my eyes, making a mental note to frown less.
"I know things will work themselves out."
"So you're just going to breeze through and hope that everything will fall into place with little to no effort from your part?"
I whistled low. "We've got a mind reader over here." Gods, she didn't even know half of it.
"I hope you're listening to me."
Saying nothing, I focused only on the soft bubbling coming from the pot. We fell into silence. The immortal grabbed two wooden bowls after a while and she cast soup into them before putting the fire out. She handed one over to me and placed her lips at the edge of her own.
My fingers pressed at the sides of my bowl and I relished the feeling of cool metal against my back as I leaned against the side of the car. It was warm- a typical Egordish night, though the scent of rain still lingered in the air.
I could just make out the city of Gomi somewhere beyond the cliff, it's faint lights dotting the horizon like the stars that shone overhead.
"Jacob?"
"Yes?"
"Aren't you hungry?" Gale placed her bowl on the ground and wiped at her mouth. I shook my head. "You know, I think we should sleep outside on this occasion. We'll be in the hotel for a while, anyway."
"No," I replied. "I've already paid for us to stay there tonight. And it's the middle of June- rainy season; I don't want to get soaked."
"Where's your sense of adventure? My husband and I used to sleep under the stars all the time when we travelled. Don't tell me you're scared of a little rain," she taunted.
"A little rain?" I repeated, just about ready to give my eyes another good roll.
"If there's any sign of rain, I'm sure I'll know long before it happens."
I got up and looked her over. "It's not worth the risk."
Gale's lips twisted, but she didn't argue. I flung open a door, climbed into the car and stretched over the back seats. Seconds later, the passenger door crept open, closing with a quiet thud.
"I wish I'd brought my old tent with me," Gale whispered.
"This isn't too bad."
"I suppose not."
Chuckling, she carried on, saying, "I remember when my husband and I went to trade with a nobleman in Dairo. I'd seen the tent in a market stall, but the seller had a pet kamish- you know, the two-legged dragons?"
"They're real?" I murmured, yawning afterwards.
"Of course they are. Anyhow, the little beast kept snarling at me whenever I got close, but I so wanted the tent."
Gale's voice continued to soothe me for a while and I started to drift away. "I'm so..."
"Sleep," she said eventually. The rain came, pounding against the roof of the car.
My eyes ached, but my mind buzzed with the thoughts of every bad thing that might've happened if I gave in to my exhaustion. Of robbers who might've vandalized the car if Gale fell asleep, too. Of-
"Just close your eyes, Jacob."
So I did.
*
Discussion: Do you think Gale's pushing it by bringing up Jacob's ex-friends, or is it something that needs to be talked about?
Feel free to comment and vote if you enjoyed this chapter!