“Not a very big room, what, Jeffrey?”
“They do seem to receive a great many visitors, miss. I believe we’re lucky to have received a two-bedroom compartment.”
McKale shivered at the statement. Bloody hell, good thing they did manage to scrounge one up. Heaven forbid Jeffrey be in the same room as her when she shuffled into her bedclothes.
“Well, I’m off then,” she turned toward her bedroom door,” Just a quick change in attire and-“
Jeffrey’s fingers curled gently around her wrist. She stopped and glanced over her shoulder at him, eyebrow raised,” Yes?”
Jeffrey immediately let go of her, jerking his hand back as if he’d been burned. Never had he grabbed his employer like that. Not for any reason but to keep her from harming herself (she was, after all, a fairly clumsy person, both in skirts and pants). He cleared his throat, stepping away from her; head bowed just a fraction of an inch.
“Jeffrey?” the seriousness left her tone, and she cocked her head,” What-ho, old chap? What’s wrong?”
Why had he stopped her in the first place? He resisted the urge to run his fingers over his scalp.
“Well if you’ve nothing to say, I need to get changed,” she turned back to the door,” Perhaps you should take a breather, what? Seems all that…that…rather uncomfortable trip got to you t-“
“May I inquire as to where you’re going, Miss? And when I should expect you back?”
“Oh,” McKale rubbed her elbows through the lace and satin of her sleeved. She slipped the note out of her bodice and snapped it open in front of her eyes. Her brow furrowed, and the very tip of her tongue peeked out between her lips,” Let’s see….”
“May I, Miss?” Jeffrey held out his hand.
McKale glanced tentatively around the paper. Her gaze flickered upward, thoughtful, back to the note, and finally rested on Jeffrey’s expressionless face. She let it slip a few scant centimeters close to Jeffrey’s hand. Jeffrey eased it out of her grip and straightened it out on his lap.
He’d already seen the list of names and places, but he could not allow his mistress to know that. “Are these…people, the errands you must run?”
“Yes, yes, but there’s not need to ask questions, Jeffrey, what?”
He would have liked to have known what she needed the people for, but he didn’t ask. He nodded compliantly and traced his finger down the paper,” Which one are we looking for, Miss?”
“Hm? Oh,”she tiptoed closer and leaned over the paper,”Ah, I think it’s…that Yaidom person. Yes,” she tapped her finger beside the name, way down low on the bottom of the page,”Yaidom, right there, no last name. That’s who we’re after.”
“Do you require my assistance for this, Miss?”
She licked her lips,” Can’t hurt, what?”
Jeffrey nodded,” Very well, Miss. Do you know what he looks like?”
“Ah…”she glanced back at the paper,” No, no Jeffrey I don’t believe I do.”
Jeffrey nodded anyway,” Very well. Are you positive he’s here, Miss?”
"Yes, of course! Why would Winq- There's no reason for him not to be,” she wrapped her fingers against the paper and snatched it out of Jeffrey's hands, shoving it back down her collar,” Right-ho, Jeffrey. I better be off, then." She turned back toward the door.
"Do you wish for me to accompany you, miss?"
"No, no. Look for him if you like, Jeffrey, but I think I'll pip off alone for now."
"Very well, miss."
.:.:.::.:.:.
Star City proved to be a fascinating place. Halls of thick, shining metal that towered far above his head, sparkling with fluorescent neon lights and glowing filigree designs formed against the walls like high-tech graffiti. It was magnificent. It was new. Nothing at all like McKale's vintage manor, a puddle of history amid the silver streets of the modern era.
Jeffrey's eyes lit up at every corner, glazed with wonder at the sight of it all.
The species there. Not only humanoids, but abnormal, grotesque looking creatures that slumped across the walkways as if they were the thinks of nightmares. Giant, brightly colored creatures with mouths of jagged, blackened teeth and glowing eyes. Fur covered creations with two heads and six limbs. It was amazing. The clash of cultures, the diversity, the eccentricity of it all. It was extraordinary.
Yaidom. The word slipped into his mind like a leech. Of course. He could not forget his task. Although his mistress (or master was it, now?) had given him the option of resigning from the search, Jeffrey desired to find him regardless. The likelihood of tracking down a man of which one knows only the name and nothing else was highly unlikely, but if Jeffrey could only find him before his employer, perhaps he could scrounge some information that may hint toward who, or what, this Wilbur Winquist was. Obtain some clue about his employer's watch.
Several half-hours of meandering through the metallic corridors led Jeffrey toward a humble looking area, a little alcove of open food stops, situated along a tiresome street that seemed to carry on forever from fantasized end to end. The characters about the stretch of aluminum street seemed to be a rather rowdy, if homely, sort of bunch. Not quite the usual people Jeffrey took to acquainting himself to, but if he were to find this Yaidom fellow, he’d have to exercise the vocal cord a bit. It was really only a matter of finding a half decent chap to exchange words with.
As luck would have it Jeffrey spotted such a possibility out of the corner of his eye, wiping down the counter of a small liquor bar. Jeffrey smoothed his curtails and shimmered toward the barkeep.
"Excuse me, sir," Jeffrey's voice was muted against the hustle and bustle of the crowds. He cleared his throat and spoke again, a bit louder,” Excuse me, sir?"
The man-thing, for he certainly wasn't the sort of man Jeffrey (and perhaps his employer) was, looked up. He had a frog-like face, and was of heavy build. His entire form seemed covered in thick plates that rather inappropriately reminded Jeffrey of the segments of a rolly-bug. He quashed those thoughts and lifted his chin a little,” Excuse me sir, but I happen to be vacationing here in,” he searched his memories for the name of the place,” Star City, when I learned of a friend's residence in the area. Unfortunately, I do not know where he might be staying and I was wondering if you could perchance point me in the right direction?"
The man-thing smiled and straightened up (proving he was a good two or three feet taller than Jeffrey, who was no bit short himself) and pushed his rag into the front pocket of his apron. "O' 'course,” his lips peeled back to reveal several large rows of greying teeth,” What’s yer boy's name?"
"Yaidom, no last name, or none he's informed me of."
The man-thing's eyes flickered oddly. He pursed his lips, setting four (four!) thick hands flat on his counter-top. He made a low whistling sound, like the whirling of a tornado, and bobbed his head from side to side,” Friend of his, did you say?"
"Yes,” Jeffrey’s brow furrowed,” Do you know him?"
"Not personally,” the man-thing shook his head,” Thank the stars for that. But I do know of him,” he narrowed his dark eyes a little,” I won't judge ye, though. I'm sure ye've got yer reasons..."he trailed off, muttering under his breath.
"Excuse me, sir?"
"Roight, o' course,” he rubbed his hand (one of the four) under his chin,” The man yer lookin' for doesn't live 'ere anymore, or rather, 'e's not docked 'ere anymore. Never actually lived 'ere, thank the stars."
Jeffrey's face fell,"Ah, very well, sir. Thank-you anyway." He turned to leave.
"Wait a bit, there, lad...perhaps I can still be of some help."
Jeffrey turned back around, clasping his hands in front of himself,” Indeed?"
"'E may have gone t' the Abstract Destiny, that's a ship o' sorts anchorin' off o' Star City. I believe it's docked itself in down in deck eight. Dragons layin' eggs, an all."
Dragons laying...Jeffrey's pale brow arched. Just a fraction, hardly noticeable, and he doubted the man-thing had seen anything at all (or would have cared if he did). "Thank-you, sir,” Jeffrey bobbed his chin, allowing the barest hint of a smile to curve the corners of his thin lips.
"Not a problem, lad, not a problem,” he whipped his clothe out of its pocket and swirled it over the counter top,"Ye jus' be careful of that Yaidom, fellow. Dun know how ye got t' be in his company, or why yer lookin' for him, an' I dun wan' ter know either, but 'e's not good company."
Jeffrey nodded,” Very well, sir. I'll keep it mind." He pivoted a little and shimmered away.
Burnig stopped his washing and stared down at his own reflection in the oily table surface. One of these days, he thought, he was going to have to coin himself an official recruiter of candidates. That, or get himself a dragon.
.:.:.::.:.:.
I believe it is now vital for me to, once again, interrupt the narrative with my own notes.
I had been severely ruffled by my employer’s dealings with Winquist and his/her unusual watch. Not feeling terribly well about the situation or myself, as one does tend to get in moods when one is presented with highly undesirable circumstances. Therefore, my reaction to learning of the presence of dragons, laying eggs that no doubt desired some form of bond or sponsor, forced me into all sorts of wonderful joy. I believe that this sudden change in atmosphere (although the aforementioned situation was still seated near to the forefront of the mind) was what caused me to act in an entirely uncharacteristic way.
You see, my dear reader, I have always had a keen love of dragons. Even as a small boy I dreamt of one day finding myself waiting eagerly before a nest of wiggling eggs. Watching scaly heads pip out of their shells and finding myself the new bond of a young dragonling. A life long companion as it were, a partner in my duties and my thoughts. Not that I have been a terribly lonely person, but I never had much luck in keeping close company with any one person until my days as a valet. It was unfortunate then, that I found myself in the employment (and becoming rather attached to) such a person as Ms/Mr.McKale. Not that he/she was unaffectionate, quite the contrary, but he/she was not apt to sharing his/her thoughts with...well...anyone.
One cannot blame me, then, for desiring some form of ensured companionship that may have allowed me to endeavor upon person discussions of the thoughtful kind.
Quite frankly, dear reader, I wanted to stand at a clutch.