On the Verge (A Charmed Life Book 1) (18 page)

Pastor Wallis put his hand on her shoulder before she left, drawing her aside.  He smiled.  “It seems my sermon today was appropriate for you?” he asked, bringing up the earlier topic again.  Tracy smiled and nodded.  “Glad to hear it.  Let me know if you want to talk.”

Tracy smiled more broadly.  “I have many people I can talk to,” she confessed happily, “And I think that simple fact is more comforting than actually doing the talking.”

During the more leisurely-feeling drive back home, and especially the filling-up of the gas tank, Tracy considered how much she'd been driving lately.  Usually she took the bus - it was cheaper, and while it took a little longer, it gave her a chance to relax and think about things.  Often she would bring a paperback along so she could read, but she'd missed her stop a few times that way.  Despite the extra time, she didn't feel quite so impatient about getting to where she was going when she wasn't behind the wheel, and that extra peace of mind really mattered to her.

She idly wondered how much of the stress of the last few days was from her world turning upside down, and how much was from the much more mundane source of dealing with traffic and bad drivers.

She pulled into her underground parking space when she got back to her apartment, and thought about it only briefly before skipping her apartment entirely and heading right down the street to Schrödinger's.  Her rumbling stomach had a lot of influence on the matter - the fruit had helped, at church, but she still was terribly hungry.

At first, she ignored the pressure, the soft press on her mind that told her another wielder was nearby, because she knew there was - his name was Hans, and he was up ahead, running Schrödinger's.  As she got a little closer, she realized the pressure in her mind was less like when she had approached Shroedinger's last, and more like when she had approached the arena.  She was pretty sure there was more than just Hans waiting at the restaurant.

She looked warily around as she entered, trying to sift through the new and conflicting sensations running through her mind.  The other wielders had to be somewhere, but there were too many to sort through the sensations.  With one person, it was easier, but with so many, she was just getting confused.

She hadn't gotten more than a few steps into the small restaurant when a man in a suit stepped out of one of the small side areas and gestured to her.  “This way, Miss.”  She wasn't sure what to make of it, but decided to take it in stride and be ready for anything.

The area held three tables - only one was occupied, and the man at the opening was probably making sure the other two would stay empty.  At that table were Lord Pax, Lord Brin, Jacob, and one other man in a suit that Tracy didn't recognize.  They fit in rather tightly around the one small table, especially because they were leaving one spot open for her, and one spot open, she would assume, so that the two sides would not be sitting next to each other.

“Ah, Tracy!” said Lord Pax, “I'm so glad you got my message and could make it!”

Tracy did her best not to let her surprise show on her face.  “My apologies, Lord Pax,” she replied.  “I'm afraid I did not receive your message - I have not been home all day.  I left earlier this morning in some haste, and have not returned since.  What message did you leave for me?”

“Ah,” replied Lord Pax, “it was merely a request to meet here to discuss the details of our duel.  It is traditional to handle that sooner rather than later.”

“Of course,” Tracy, giving a small, polite smile.  “I had thought we had agreed to handle that tomorrow.  It is simple fortune that I happen to be here at the right time.  Allow me to hang up my coat, and I shall return swiftly.”

“Please,” offered Lord Pax, “Allow my man there to take your coat for you.”

Tracy glanced at the man in the suit standing just outside the small area, and shook her head.  “No, thank you.  I feel more comfortable doing it myself.”

Really, she just needed a moment to compose herself.  She did not want to allow Lord Pax to put her off her game, and that meant she needed just a few seconds to gather her thoughts and prepare.

She took off her light coat, which she had taken more out of habit than out of any real need, then stood for a moment with her eyes closed as she cleared her mind.  Her Aikido meditations were very useful in keeping her calm in many situations, but not as useful for confrontation.  When she was called upon to present herself before someone, or speak to a group, she'd developed her own sort of mental preparation.

She always felt better if she was dressed the right way for what she was doing.  When that wasn't possible, she found she could make herself more comfortable by picturing, down to the last detail, the clothes she wished that she was wearing.  For this case, a variety of outfits flashed through her mind, many involving armor, many involving really old-fashioned garb with lots of skirts.  Finally, however, she settled on tall, folded swashbuckler boots, tight leather pants tied at the waist by a simple leather thong, and a billowing white poet's shirt laced loosely up the front.  She mentally tied up her hair with a plain black cord, and just for good measure, she added a gleaming silver rapier at her hip, taking a moment to fix in her imagination the curves and patterns of the intricate basket.

Prepared now, she turned and walked back down the bent aisle of the small restaurant, making her way back to the table.  She was aware that her walk had shifted from her normal quiet step to a confident, rolling, and balanced stride, ready to spar.

The men looked up as she got back to the table, and Lord Brin blinked and shook his head with a quick, uncertain little movement.  She felt a slight tingling in her mind as he looked at her again, and without any hesitation or doubt, she tightened her jaw and mentally bellowed inside her head,
get out
.

Lord Brin gave a small start in his chair, enough so that Jacob looked over and noticed.  She heard Lord Brin's voice in her mind,
My apologies.  The image was so strong that for a moment I was seeing double, and couldn't tell which you were wearing.  I had to sort it out.

She formed the words in her mind, more quietly and politely. 
You're forgiven, but all the same - get out now.
  Though he didn't move, she had the impression of Lord Brin bowing to her politely, then her mind was her own again.

She strode forward confidently, took the chair that had been left for her between Lord Brin and Jacob, and settled into it in a more sprawling manner than she usually sat.  She brought one ankle up on her opposite knee, making sure her skirts were arranged to keep her decency, and leaned back with her arm across the back of the chair.  It was a bit of a cocky posture, and she noted with some amusement, after noticing the flicker of Lord Brin's eyes, that her other hand was at her hip to push the nonexistent rapier out of the way.

“Is it morn or afternoon?” she asked, a slight catch in her voice as she barely kept herself from slipping into the accent she used when she visited the Renaissance Faire.

“Just after noon,” Lord Pax replied.  “And we were just about to order.”

“Then I wish you a good afternoon, and thank you for taking care to prepare this meeting so swiftly.  I apologize for my own laxity in taking care of it, myself, but this is all quite new to me, and I've been sorting through a good deal.”

“Not at all, m'lady,” assured Lord Pax, politely.  “The important thing is that it happens.  We all make allowances towards those new to our community.”

Lord Brin lowered his hand to his side.  There was a glint of reflected light in mid air, and suddenly his blade was there, leaning propped up against his chair.  “So that we're not overheard,” he assured those assembled, and Tracy felt a rushing feeling, a pressure against her ears, as if she was in an airplane taking off or a car driving up a steep mountain road.  She swallowed a few times to pop her ears, and looked questioningly at Lord Brin.

“A working of air,” he assured her, “to make sure our words do not carry beyond these half-walls.”

“A fine precaution,” Tracy said.  “I'll have to learn how to do that, myself.” She took a moment to look around.

Lord Pax and his man looked much as they had last evening, dressed to the nines in fine suits.  Jacob might not have changed clothes since yesterday - he wore the same t-shirt, at least, and had a harried, rumpled look about him.  Lord Brin was not, however, made of metal this time.  His hair was a dirty blond, his skin lightly tanned.  Today, he wore tan slacks and a pale blue polo shirt, and yet, bore himself in a manner that gave the impression he was dressed more impressively than Lord Pax.

Lord Pax broke the brief quiet.  “So,” he asked, “How did you come by Schrödinger's, if you've been in our community for such a short time?”

Tracy laughed lightly.  “I live only a few blocks away,” she explained, “this is one of my favorite restaurants.  I'm just stopping by for lunch now that I'm done with church.”

“Of course,” Lord Pax said with an indulgent smile on his lips.  “I forget that sometimes even mundanes can see the value in a place such as this.”

Tracy raised an eyebrow at the tone of voice when Pax said 'mundane,' as if it was an insult, but she said nothing.  No one else seemed willing to bring up the subject of the duel just yet, so neither did she.  They remained quiet until Hans came in.  The small restaurant didn't have any waiters - the customers came up to the counter to order and collect their food - but for a matter like this, apparently Hans came to serve the food himself.

“Gentlemen,” he said politely.  Then, “Tracy,” as he nodded to her.  “Today you have dishes of fresh fruit and of steamed chicken breast or of braised vegetables and rice.”

“I'll have the chicken, then,” replied Lord Pax.  He smiled to Tracy.  “If you haven't had his steamed chicken yet, you really should.  He makes the most marvelous steamed chicken.”

“Actually,” Hans demurred, “The chicken recipe is of Tracy.  We talk of recipes quite often, she share this one with me.”

Lord Pax looked surprised, then gave a small half-bow of his head to Tracy.  “M'lady,” he nearly purred, “A woman of many talents, I see.”

Tracy felt uneasy at that tone of voice.  There was nothing technically wrong with it, but it just felt oily.  Perhaps it was empathy, or perhaps it was just her imagination, since she knew what sort of man he was.  “I dabble a bit,” she said modestly.  “There are so many things in this world that it would seem almost rude not to partake of as much as possible.”

They went around the table, each giving their order, and Tracy wasn't sure if she felt like being contrary, or just because she'd had chicken earlier that week, but she ordered the vegetables and rice.

It was only a few minutes before Hans returned with their lunch.  The chicken he served on separate plates, but the vegetables and rice he had in two large bowls, enough for everyone and then some, along with a stack of smaller, empty bowls.

For the man in the hall, he brought something different.  Tracy recognized a little side-dish he often had available - meat rolls, where he'd taken several thin slices of beef or pork, wrapped it around some sliced vegetables and grilled that up, then baked it into a small roll.

The guard - she could think of no other term - looked uncertainly to Lord Pax when he received the unexpected food, then took a small bite before smiling his thanks to Hans.

Tracy took one of the empty bowls - a small, oriental-style bowl with tall sides to it.  She piled some rice into it, followed it up with vegetables which had been cooked so briefly they still seemed fresh, barely warmed up, but had browned grill-marks along their edges.  They smelled lightly of some oriental spices, oils, and vinegars that she simply couldn't place.  She picked up the ceramic chopsticks, bowed her head briefly over her food, then sampled it.

The vegetables still had the tangy taste and sharp smell of fresh vegetables - although where Hans got fresh vegetables this time of year, she had no idea - but the flash-roasted lines along the cut strips added that sweet caramelized flavor of roasted vegetables.  “Hans did exceptionally well with this dish,” Tracy murmured appreciatively.  Lord Brin and Lord Pax's second both nodded their agreement.

“So, I've met most of us here at the table,” said Tracy, as they all started to eat.  “But I'm afraid I have not yet met your second, Lord Pax.”

“Ah, how rude of me!” exclaimed Lord Pax.  “This is my second, Anthony.  He will, of course, be standing in, depending on the conditions of the duel!”

Tracy nodded a greeting to the man.  “A pleasure to meet you, good sir,” she said politely, then turned back to Lord Pax.  “Shall we get on with the conditions, then?”

Lord Pax smiled and gave as much of a bow as he could give while being so closely seated at the small table.  “Of course, Miss Tracy.  As you wish.” He cut off a small piece of his chicken and slowly ate it, looking thoughtful, as if wondering how to go about it.

Tracy didn't buy it for a second.  She was sure that someone like him didn't get into any sort of situation like this without knowing exactly how things were going to go beforehand.

He patted at the corners of his mouth lightly with his napkin, then placed it in his lap.  “The way I considered it,” said Lord Pax, thoughtfully, “is that you're quite new to this, while I've had quite a bit of practice.  You and your second versus me and my second, two runes each, in an official arena setting.  That way, he can make up for your inexperience.”