The Fenimeldiyaan: Vacation - Chapter 1

The yells were terrified, enough to send chills down the spines of anyone who heard them. But that was nothing to speak of the thrashing, as if Gerald Hunt could escape whatever was plaguing him in his dreams by running in place. That in itself wouldn’t have been a problem if Elsa Silvereye-Hunt, his wife, weren’t with him.

The first few nights it had happened, Elsa had been sympathetic, even when Gerald refused to tell her what he was dreaming of. Now she was tired of it. All she wanted — no, craved — was sleep, and he was depriving her of it. Frustrated, Elsa did the only thing she could think of.

She poked his side as hard as she could.

Gerald shot up in bed, bellowing a curse. Elsa slipped out of the bed and stood, clad in her nightgown, her feet cold against the marble floor, glaring at him. “Gerald!” she said. “Get ahold of yourself!”

For a moment, there was no answer. He looked about wildly, his clear eyes seeking something in the darkness of their shared room. It was always this way, and, annoyed as she was, it frightened her. Gerald was almost never scared; whatever he was seeing in his dreams must have been terrifying. He was covered in sweat, gasping for breath as if he’d run a marathon. “Fitzgerald Hunt, look at me!” Elsa yelled, not caring what the others in the castle of Zor would think.

Finally, Gerald’s eyes lit on her, and unspeakable relief flooded his features. “Elsa, me love,” he panted. “Is it ye?”

“Of course it’s me,” Elsa said impatiently. “Who else would it be, you fool? I’m your wife!”

Gerald blinked. “Course ye are. I’d never forget that.”

“Oh, really?” Elsa shot back. “Because it sounds like you did!”

“I didn’t. I swear to ye, I didn’t!” Gerald looked panicked.

Elsa sighed. “Gerald, what in the world is wrong with you? Ever since your friend Andreas invited us to the Fenian Galaxy, you’ve been behaving bizarrely, having nightmares at night, looking at me strangely! Would you please just tell me what’s wrong?”

Gerald slid out of bed, tugging a shirt on. “There ain’t nothing wrong,” he said. “I just be dreaming of … ye know. The past.”

Elsa sighed. “You know I can tell when you lie, Gerald. Well, we’re up already; we may as well go down to breakfast. Morgan will probably be eating now.”

In short order, Gerald and Elsa dressed and went down to breakfast. Sure enough, Morgan was already there, downing a whole plate of bacon, eggs, and bread. Gerald sat down beside him, snagging a plate and some bacon and eggs before Morgan could eat those too. “Morning, mate,” Gerald greeted him. “Ready to head to the Fenian Galaxy soon?”

“I can’t tell you how relieved I am that Andreas is translocating us,” Morgan said, his mouth full. “Morning, Elsa. Anyway, I’m tired of my translocations sending us to horrible places. Like when I was trying to translocate us to Viria and ended up in Albion instead.”

“Don’t even remind me,” Gerald groaned, absently scratching his arm where the Hindustanis had cut him numerous times. “Blimey, that had to be the worst mistake in the whole universe. Elsa, ye want something?”

Elsa’s stomach was having a rebellion, churning at the sight of Morgan and Gerald enjoying the breakfasts. “No, thank you,” she said. “I’ll eat when we get there.”

“I can’t believe you’re coming!” Morgan said, finishing off his plate and taking what would have been Elsa’s as well. “How did he manage to convince you?”

“I have to meet the man who’s become a good friend of my husband’s at some point,” Elsa said with a shrug. “Since the invitation was extended to both of us as well as you, I decided to accept.”

Morgan finished eating his bacon and stood up, adjusting his cape. “Well, I’m ready!” he said. “Are you two?”

“May as well head off,” Gerald replied. They’d bid farewell to their friends and family the night before, knowing they would be going to the Fenian Galaxy early the next morning.

Morgan considered thoughtfully. “Erm … where are we supposed to meet him?” he asked.

Elsa sighed. “Honestly. It’s no wonder the two of you end up so far off-track when translocating. The courtyard of the castle is where we told Andreas we’d meet him. Remember?”

“’Course,” Gerald said. “Alright, then. Let’s go and meet him.”

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River Meer emerged from Nye’s class feeling exhausted and upset. He was always so nice, even in her constant failures to manage his Personal Alchemy classes. She couldn’t manage any of it. It was all so confusing! She’d never realised magic was so deep and interesting, yet she couldn’t manage to understand any of it.

River let herself slide down the wall, her ancient book full of her own personal scribblings in her lap. She bent her head down, feeling tears building in her eyes. Why had she ever agreed to come here? She wasn’t anything like the others. They could all speak, they understood the strange technology in this world … agreeing to come was a terrible idea.

Then the tears did come, quick and quiet. She made no sound, simply covering her face with her hands, sobbing without the comfort of making any noise. There was nothing worse to her when all she wanted was someone to understand. All the pressure of being brought by Andreas, people expecting her to be some kind of powerful sorceress … she just wasn’t. She couldn’t do it anymore.

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Andreas was already in the courtyard, leaning up against the side of a strange carriage made mostly of metal.  The wheels had thick black rubber coverings around the rims and there were no traces for attaching horses.  Gerald had seen Andreas driving one of these carriages before, but the others had not. 

“Gerald!  Morgan!  Tis good to see ye again!” the little man in the checked suit remarked, hugging each of them in turn.  “And this must be Lady Elsa”.  He gave an extravagant bow, his long tail of hair sweeping the cobblestones.  “A pleasure to meet ye at last!”

Elsa took a long look at the scrawny, oddly-dressed man who stood in front of her.  Gerald had told her that Andreas was a skilled Spy Master and veteran assassin, but on seeing him for the first time, she surmised that her husband must have exaggerated somewhat.  The man carried no visible weapons and he was so short and skinny that it seemed like a small child could best him in a fight.  Also, he appeared to be much older than she had expected, in his late fifties or maybe even his early sixties, judging by the lines around his eyes and the slight streaks of grey in his dark hair.  She could not help feeling disappointed meeting this supposedly legendary figure face to face.

“Pleased to meet you too”.  She knew her voice sounded stilted but she did not care.  “I thought we were translocating, not travelling by carriage”. 

“Aye, tis so” Andreas answered with a chuckle.  “I brought the truck along cause I promised I’d teach Morgan how to drive.  All of ye can have a go, if ye like”.

Morgan went over to the vehicle, inspecting it from every available angle.  He ran his hand along the grey paintwork and peered in the windows, which were made of tinted glass.  “It must be driven by sorcery” he commented.

Andreas laughed again and shook his head.  “Not exactly.  Most vehicles where I come from have crystal drives.  Two different types of crystal work together to create the power to move the truck.  The steering and other controls take a while to get used to, but ye should be able to pick it up easily enough”.

Elsa’s lip curled in disapproval as Morgan bounded around excitedly like a child with a new toy.  “It doesn’t look very safe” she pronounced. 

“Ah, ye’ve nothing to worry about”.  Andreas gave a beaming grin and opened one of the doors.  “Get in and I’ll take ye for a spin around the courtyard afore we translocate over to Veretris”.

Morgan was the first to get in, taking the front passenger seat.  Gerald helped Elsa into the rear and got in beside her.  She was already feeling queasy and the abrupt burst of motion made her stomach churn even more.  She was begging Andreas to stop before he had even completed one circuit of the courtyard.

He complied, the tyres squealing as he screeched the truck to a shuddering halt.  He craned his head around and gave Elsa an apologetic look.  “Sorry, me dear.  Didn’t mean to startle ye.  Anyways, ye’ll get used to it soon enough”.

Her first instinct was to yell abuse at him and it took all her self-control to bite back the torrent of insults which threatened to pour from her mouth.  “Now I understand why Gerald and Morgan enjoy going off on adventures with you.  It’s just as well that I’m coming along this time to keep you from doing anything dangerous or getting into trouble”.

“Me?  Get into trouble?” Gerald winked at her in his typical mischievous manner.  “Tis usually Morgan’s fault when things go wrong, not mine”.

“Hey!  That’s unfair!” Morgan protested.  “I can’t help it when we end up being thrown into prison on alien worlds”.

“Enough!” Elsa growled.  “I’ve hardly had any sleep for the past few nights and I’ve got a headache.  The last thing I need is having to listen to you two arguing”.  She got out of the truck, almost slamming the door on Gerald’s outstretched hand.

“Can I have a go at driving now?” Morgan asked. 

Andreas nodded and got out of the truck.  Morgan shifted over to the driver’s seat and waited for Andreas to get in beside him.

Elsa retreated to what she hoped was a safe distance. 

The truck shuddered when Morgan started up the engine.  It then shot backwards, the tyres squealing on the cobbles.  Andreas laughed and guided Morgan’s hand on the stick shift.  “No, ye had it in reverse.  This one to go forward”. 

After a few more attempts, Morgan managed one wobbly circuit of the courtyard.  “Well done, me friend!”  Andreas congratulated him and slapped him on the arm in a friendly manner.  “Ye’ll soon be driving around like me.  I learned when I were in me teens.  I were taught by a professional racing driver, one of the best”.

Morgan drove the truck around a few more times before declaring that he was hungry.

“Surely ye can’t be, not after that huge breakfast?” Gerald teased.

“We’d best be off to Veretris then” Andreas suggested.  “I be sure ye’ll love Varagan food.  I promised I’d take ye to Ezun’s Diner, didn’t I?”

Elsa’s stomach lurched at the mention of food, but she did not want to show weakness in front of the three men.  She allowed Gerald to help her back into the truck and braced for another nausea-inducing ride.

However, Andreas did not even start up the engine.  Instead he closed his eyes and concentrated to fix the pattern of the parking lot outside his friend’s diner.  A moment later, the truck and its passengers materialised there.

Three little beggar boys came to greet them.  Andreas got out of the truck and hugged them, exchanging a few words in a language which Gerald, Elsa and Morgan could not understand. 

A garish neon sign proclaimed the establishment to be Ezun’s Diner.  The place had a shabby, run-down look to it and when Andreas ushered them inside, their nostrils were assailed by the combined smells of herbal cigarettes, frying food and some sort of incense.

Andreas pointed to the table nearest the window.  “This be me favourite table.  Sit yerselves down while I sort out some lunch.  Would ye prefer coffee or tea to drink?”

A chubby waitress in her early teens approached the table.  Andreas hugged her and they had a conversation in Varagan language.  “This be Kyrteza, a sort of niece of mine” he explained for the benefit of the others.  “She be Ezun’s eldest daughter”.

To Morgan’s utter astonishment, Kyrteza came over and sat on his lap, wrapping her plump arms around him and snuggling into him.  He could feel his face reddening from embarrassment.  “Er … that’s a bit much for a first meeting” he spluttered, trying to extricate himself from the girl’s over-enthusiastic embrace, but finding that she was too strong for him.

Andreas tapped her on the shoulder and said something in Varagan.  She leaped off Morgan’s lap like a scalded cat and flung herself into Andreas’s arms, as if begging for mercy.  He spent several minutes stroking her long curly hair and murmuring to her in a soft, gentle tone of voice.  She then scurried off to the service counter.

“She were showing ye proper respect” Andreas explained to Morgan.  “In Varagan society, tis polite and respectful for a daughter to offer herself to guests.  I think she were hoping that ye’d buy her and take her back home with ye”.

“Buy her?”  Morgan looked horrified.

“Don’t worry about it”.  Andreas patted him on the arm.  “I’ve explained to her that ye ain’t familiar with Varagan ways.  She’ll be a bit upset for a while but she’ll get over it”.

A huge figure lumbered over to them, grinning broadly.  He was close to seven feet tall and had the broad, bulky build which was typical of Varagans.  His long dark hair hung loose over his shoulders and down his back.  He was dressed only in black baggy trousers and sandals similar to those which Andreas favoured.

“This be me good friend, Lord Ezun Khadat” Andreas announced, stroking the tall Varagan’s arm and hugging him.  He then introduced Gerald, Elsa and Morgan in Varagan for Ezun’s benefit.

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“What be wrong?”  A concerned female voice intruded in River’s misery.  The words were spoken in Malvanian but had a distinct Carpathian twang to them which reminded her of Andreas’s wife, Anwyn.

River looked up to see an elegantly attired girl standing over her.  She appeared to be a year or two older than River.  Her hair was piled on top of her head and secured with jewelled pins.  Her clothes looked expensive and her high-heeled sandals seemed impractical for the rough stone floors of the Donovan Institute.

River was too distraught to attempt a telepathic conversation with the girl, so she turned to a blank page in her book and began writing.  “I want to go home.  I don’t think I belong here.  My studies aren’t going very well”.

The older girl gave a sympathetic nod and sat down beside her.  “Aye, I know how ye feel.  Tisn’t easy when yer family be expecting so much from ye.  I wanted to be an actress, but me parents had other plans.  I be Lady Rita Micario, by the way”.

River wrote her name down for Rita’s benefit, followed by “I only started three months ago.  How long have you been studying here?”

“Two years” came Rita’s reply.  “Tis a waste of time.  I just ain’t cut out for the academic life.  I want to be up on stage or in the movies, entertaining people.  Uncle Nye humours me, but even he knows that I’ll never be able to turn into piles of sand or chairs or antique vases.  I don’t even know why he be teaching me that.  How will turning into a chair be of valuable service to me family in the future?”

River could not help laughing.  “Nye was trying to get me to turn into a plank of wood.  I couldn’t even manage that.  But I ought to be getting to my next lesson.  I’ve got Sacred Geometry with Caratacuus and I’m not looking forward to that either”.

Rita screwed up her face.  “Equations!  I can never get me head around them.  No matter how many times Uncle Cara shows me, I keep getting confused.  Tell ye what, how about we meet up in the gardens after the last class of the day?  Seems like ye could use a friend around here”.  She smiled encouragingly at River.

River nodded her agreement, then picked up her book and stood up.  “Til later” Rita said, returning the nod.

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After overcoming some of his awkwardness at the peculiar greeting he’d received from Kyrteza, Morgan bowed a little to Ezun. “Pleasure to meet you!” he chirped cheerfully. “Something smells heavenly here …”

In Elsa’s opinion, the combination of herbs, food, and incense was churning her already-unstable stomach. The translocation had evidently not helped set her stomach at ease. She squirmed in her seat next to Gerald, and he glanced at her curiously. It was one of those moments where she could see a question in his eyes clearly. Everything alright? To set his mind at ease, she nodded, though the pale pallor of her skin probably gave away that everything was not alright. If she wasn’t careful, he’d figure her out before she was ready …

Ezun approached Elsa and Gerald’s side of the table, and Gerald tensed when the man reached for his arms. “Gerald,” Elsa said warningly. She knew he disliked physical contact for some strange reason, and she’d seen the man stroking Morgan’s arms. The mage had complied cheerily, apparently seeing it as no threat. “Just …”

Gerald shook his head. “Sorry, mate,” he said tersely. “I ain’t letting ye stroke me arms.”

“It don’t hurt,” Andreas said. “Tis a Varagan tradition.”

Elsa allowed Ezun to stroke her arms reluctantly, though the man was surprisingly gentle. “Pleasure to meet ye,” he told her.

Elsa managed a smile in spite of her condition. “The pleasure is mine,” she said, and Gerald’s eyebrows shot up at her obvious sincerity. There was something about the burly man that she liked. Maybe it was because he seemed easier to understand than Andreas.

Although Gerald had seen the other two submit to the Varagan treatment, he was stubborn and refused to let Ezun touch him. “Blimey, Andreas,” he complained. “He don’t have to get so close to me!”

Morgan sighed. “Gerald, I know you people are peculiar where you come from, but you can just get a move on so we can eat? I want to have another try at driving when we’re done.”

“I ain’t letting him stroke me arms,” Gerald insisted flatly.

Elsa lost patience with him. “For heaven’s sake, just let the man touch your arms!” she exclaimed. “You are far too stubborn sometimes. If you don’t let him touch you so we can get a move on, I’ll … I’ll go home!”

Unhappily, Gerald let Ezun touch his arms, though he still refused to reciprocate. It obviously insulted the Varagan, for he didn’t look at Gerald when he asked what they wanted in broken Vordellan. Morgan ordered everything off the menu, having heard about the diner from Andreas previously. Since Elsa wasn’t particularly hungry, she asked Andreas to order for her, and Gerald followed suit.

Elsa turned her silver gaze on Morgan. “You’d better hope Apollo doesn’t see you driving that … car,” she said. “He’s likely to have a heart attack or a panic attack. You know how he feels about things that stress you.”

“It wasn’t stressful at all,” Morgan said. “It was relaxing, actually! Once I figured out what I was doing, I mean. But not as relaxing as this meal is going to be. Good heavens, Andreas, why have you kept this place from me all my life?”

Andreas winked with a chuckle. “Why do ye think I come here so often?”

“Between the two of ye, ye’re likely to eat Ezun out of house and home,” Gerald said, laughing. “Ye should see these two, love,” he added to Elsa. “They could eat more than the rest of us combined.”

“I’d rather not test that,” Elsa managed, placing a hand on her stomach beneath the table. Sometimes, the churning wasn’t so bad, but today, it was horrible, maybe fuelled by her sleepless week.

The other two started chatting amiably with Andreas about their past adventures. Elsa couldn’t even focus on what they were saying. The smells assailed her nostrils, leaving a foul taste in her mouth.

When the food was placed in front of them, it was the final straw for Elsa. She quickly left her seat, muttered an excuse about needing some air, and went outside, squeezing her eyes shut as she leaned against Andreas’s truck, trying to calm her rebelling stomach.

Inside the diner, Gerald looked after where Elsa had left. “Blimey,” he said. “I dunno what be wrong with her. She never been like this before.”

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After all of her classes that day, River stood in the gardens. Her classes hadn’t gone very well again, but with the thought of having a friend at the end of the day, she had endured. Standing there now, though, she found herself fighting down some serious doubts. None of her other fellow students had made any attempts to be friends or even speak with her. Exhausted from all her lessons, she could never muster the effort to communicate telepathically, and none of her fellow students ever had the patience to wait for her to write out everything she wanted to say.

A few minutes passed, and River started to rock back and forth on her heels. The thought of all of her hopes at being friends with someone at long last had been intoxicating the whole day. Andreas didn’t really count as a friend; she qualified him more as a father-figure than a friend. But Rita … she could be her friend. But what if she didn’t turn up? Then River would’ve gotten her hopes up for nothing.

Then she saw her coming, and her spirits soared. Enthusiastically, River started waving to Rita.

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Andreas gave Gerald a sympathetic smile.  “No doubt tis a lot for her to take in — the driving, the translocation, being so far away from yer homeworld, the cultural differences, plus she said she ain’t been sleeping too good.  Just give her some space.  She’ll come to no harm out there.  Them three beggars happen to be me street spies.  I set ‘em to guard this place and Ezun feeds ‘em.  Tis an arrangement that suits everyone.  They have a far better life working for meself and Ezun, while keeping a lookout for any potential threats.  Anyways, what d’ye think of the buffalo burgers?  No-one makes ‘em better than Ezun”.

Morgan evidently agreed, for his hand was reaching eagerly towards Elsa’s untouched plate of food.

“Not what I expected” Gerald replied, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead.  “Does all Varagan food have so much spice in it?”

Andreas nodded and chuckled.  “Aye, even some of the desserts.  Speaking of which …” He glanced over at the service counter, where Kyrteza appeared to be deep in conversation with another young waitress.  She looked away from her companion and smiled at Andreas. 

A few minutes later, both girls came over to their table, bearing trays containing yet more food, which they deposited on the table.

Andreas stood and hugged both girls, introducing the younger one as Khadija, Ezun’s second daughter.  Khadija’s dark soulful eyes lit up when she saw Morgan and she gave him a shy smile, reaching out and touching his arm.  Her older sister pulled her away, shaking her head and speaking in rapid Varagan.

“The women here seem to take a real fancy to ye, Morgan” Gerald commented with great amusement.

“Tis another cultural difference” Andreas explained, digging his spoon into a bowl of his favourite sticky toffee pudding.  “Tis considered beautiful or handsome to be on the heavy side”.  He laughed and gestured towards his concave lack of belly.  “It also helps if ye’ve got a big appetite”.  He translated into Varagan for the benefit of the two sisters, who giggled and hugged each other before returning to the service counter.

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Outside in the parking lot, Elsa gulped in deep breaths of the relatively fresh air, although even that seemed to be tainted with unfamiliar smells.  The climate on Varathusia was much warmer than on Vordelle, a fact which did nothing to help her feelings of nausea.  One of the little beggar boys looked over to her and waved.  She managed a small smile and returned the wave.

She had been so wrapped up in her discomfort that she had failed to notice the huge Varagan approaching silently on his sandaled feet.  His shadow loomed over her and he had a concerned look on his pierced face.  “Not happy?” he asked, speaking Vordellan in a mournful tone and touching her arm very gently.

“I don’t travel well” Elsa answered, gesturing towards the truck on which she was leaning.  “And I’m not used to the heat”.

Ezun grinned and trailed his hand all the way to her shoulder, then back down to her wrist.  “Make ye something else to eat?” he suggested, the corners of his mouth turning up in a hopeful smile.

Elsa’s hand went to her stomach and she shook her head vigorously.  “I’m sure the food is wonderful, but I’m just not very hungry today”.

He looked downwards and pointed, his finger hovering over the place that she was clutching at.  “Mother?”