It was late, the crescent moon high in the warm sky as Makzin's boots echoed up the winding stone steps and across the porch to the door of his family's home. A lantern was hung at the front door, spilling out a yellow glow across the hill of the front yard and reflecting like a spill of glitter in the brook. The door was unlocked, as usual: the house was too well guarded by maow and Laurel too safe to bother with the dead-bolt.
Timber squeezed through the door as Makzin opened it, trotting ahead tiredly to the kitchen for a snack. "Hiya," he said to someone in the kitchen; Mrs. Taylor's voice responded with a cheerful "Ah, good evening, Timber... have a good day?"
"Hey Mom," Makzin greeted as well, heading for the worn wooden stairwell.
"Don't go tracking mud all over," she called back.
Makzin rolled his eyes, dropping his daypack and spinning to sit on the green carpet runner padding the bottom stair to remove his mud-caked boots. Mrs. Taylor was as psychic as all mothers were when it came to messes and her children.
An accusing, childish giggle heralded Calley's presence, watching her brother from the adjacent living room. She was in flannel pajama bottoms, fuzzy slippers, and a t-shirt twice her size, a popsicle threatening to drip down her hand as she leaned against the stone column leading into the spacious living room; her long lavender-hued hair was loose over her shoulders, kinked slightly from the hair-tie she usually wore. "Can I go with you tomorrow?"
Makzin raised an eyebrow as he pulled off on boot. "Um, no..."
She huffed a bit, but was too calm for Makzin's liking. Shuffling over across the wood floor, she leaned over him. "Today was the last class... they gave us tomorrow to get ready, but I'm packed and stuff... oops, sorry--"
A splash of gooey green popsicle dropped across Makzin's boot. "Calley!" he complained, pushing his sister away.
"Hey! Jeez..." and she quieted, glowering at him as he annoyedly scrubbed the wet spot from his already-messed, muddy boot. "It's dirty anyway."
He glared back. It was the principle of the thing.
Makzin kicked his other boot off, grabbed his pack and headed up the stairs in his heavy wool socks, the tail of his cape fluttering behind him as he took the steps two at a time.
Calley looked up after him. "Well, I was just being nice and asking first... but I'm going anyway."
"No, you're not," he responded without looking back.
"Mom said so."
Now he stopped and bit back a curse. Mom was in the other room, undoubtedly listening in sadistic humor at his plight. She certainly didn't seem to be yelling at Calley for telling her brother lies.
He now looked back down the dark stairwell at his small sister, annoyance a fire in his eyes. He emphasized each word, "No, you can't come."
"Can too," she replied simply.
"No, Zane and I have business in Talston. I don't want you around messing things up and being slow," he replied, heading back up the stairs.
"I am not slow!!" she yelled; the last bit of her popsicle fell from the stick to the floor and she looked down at it, momentarily forgetting her argument. "Oops..."
"Get a napkin, Calley," Mrs. Taylor said from the kitchen. Handy, how she only commented when her foyer floor was in danger.
"It's okay, Nips' got it," Calley said back.
Makzin dared to glance back and indeed, the basketball-sized armadillo/hedgehog had bounded in playfully from the living room, skidded into the front door with a thud, and then scrabbled over to lick up the chunk of frozen fruit juice.
Timber appeared at the mouth of the kitchen, watching Nips lick at the otherwise immaculate, polished floorboards. "Canni have some too please?"
Calley showed him the empty stick. "All gone."
Timber wilted.
Makzin, turning across the balcony that passed over the foyer and living room towards his room, glared down once more, feeling at the moment that his sister had even stolen from him his best friend; but then, Timber was always nice to Calley for some reason. Zane was too. It wasn't fair.
Timber perked back up, watching Makzin retreat from view down the dark upper hall; he winced when the bedroom door was slammed closed. Calley had padded into the kitchen towards the freezer and pulled out the huge box of popsicles; "What color ya want?"
Timber shook his head slightly. "Nah, it s'okay... too late for popsicles..." and he forced a happy look at Calley before he took up the stairs after his coach.
Timber scratched lightly at Makzin's door. "Ma'zin...?"
There was a pause before the teen's unenthusiastic reply. "Hm."
Timber pawed the latch and pushed the lightweight door aside, padding quietly into Makzin's room. The ceiling sloped upwards from the far wall, flattening out halfway across the room with just enough headroom that Makzin could sit on the top bunk of his bed and not hit his head. The bunks were set against the far back wall, the lower bunk sporting a large window that looked west over the moonlit backyard, and the bunk above it with a small circular window set into the high wall above it. The bunk was taller than bunkbeds normally were, having been set over the window, but it made use of space.
The room itself was dark save for the square lantern of cloudy white glass on Makzin's bed-side desk and the sparse moonlight filtering in through the blinds.
Timber yawned widely, stepping across the woven blue carpet to the beanbag chair that served as his bed. "Talston's nah far... I think your Mom wanna be sure Calley's ready..."
Makzin didn't look up from the workbench where he was removing his vambrace: the streamlined, outer metal shell was unclasped and removed; the soft, inner leather was untied and peeled away from his wrinkled jacket sleeve. The boy carefully polished the blue gem set into the leather, sighing heavily. "I've gotta deal with her all summer... why can't we have one more day by ourselves?"
Timber settled into the enormous beanbag, resting his head on the bulging side. "...'cuz your Mom an' Dad need ta go outta town."
Makzin shot a look over at the fluffy fox. "�what?"
A new, drowsy voice mumbled down from the top bunk, "...cussa they go see your cousin-lady's..." The round head of what seemed to be a 20 lb. tan-and-brown rat blinked sleepily down from over the side of the bed, black eyes half-closed but glinting in the pale lantern light. Makzin looked up at the cavio maow, brow furrowed. "My cousin...? Oh, Kaye�s baby shower... damn it, why couldn't that wait?! Just a few days�"
Timber closed his eyes, humored but trying not to annoy the human. "Think Kaye wanned your Mom there, an your Mom and Dad've that business-type trip thing righ� after Calley's ceremony, so it had ta be before Friday... it a conspiracy, neh?"
"Eh," Makzin agreed. He sat back in his cushioned desk chair, a frown on his face.
After a moment, he pulled the black cap from his head and spun it in the general direction of the door. "I guess we can drag her along... I can drown her in the pool when we get to Talston�s Guide Hall."
The cavio atop the bunk gave a sleepy smile. "There's tha spirit."
(cont'd)
