Teja son of Tagila (
ostro_goth) wrote2010-04-30 12:13 pm
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OOM: Letting Urquhart go
The day before yesterday, Teja had found Urquhart lying on his cot, wild masses of blond hair covering back and shoulder, breathing quietly, but not answering to anything Teja said. Teja had left the coffee and gone.
Yesterday, Teja had found Urquhart still lying on his cot, hiding in his hair, with the coffee sitting untouched just inside the barrier in the place where things could be passed through. Teja had exchanged the cold coffee for nice fresh hot coffee, and left.
Today, Teja finds Urquhart still on his cot, unmoving, yesterday's coffee again cold and untouched. He takes away the cold coffee, then opens the barrier and walks inside with the hot coffee in his hands. He puts it down among the mess of books, finds a place to sit beside the cot, pushes his fingers deep into the wild blond hair, shoving it out of the way and taking hold, ungently, to lift up the man's head and force him to turn and face him. "So you are, indeed, still alive," he says, disdainfully.
Yesterday, Teja had found Urquhart still lying on his cot, hiding in his hair, with the coffee sitting untouched just inside the barrier in the place where things could be passed through. Teja had exchanged the cold coffee for nice fresh hot coffee, and left.
Today, Teja finds Urquhart still on his cot, unmoving, yesterday's coffee again cold and untouched. He takes away the cold coffee, then opens the barrier and walks inside with the hot coffee in his hands. He puts it down among the mess of books, finds a place to sit beside the cot, pushes his fingers deep into the wild blond hair, shoving it out of the way and taking hold, ungently, to lift up the man's head and force him to turn and face him. "So you are, indeed, still alive," he says, disdainfully.
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Pause.
"But that won't help you understand the reality of this place. Why there are different world, and some of them these are true, and in others, they're rubbish. You can't possibly hope you can see the whole truth?"
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Long pause.
"And every single one that comes to this place plays an important part in one of those stories that are known throughout the universe, or at least in may worlds. Weyland the smith. Valkyries. Demeter, and the rest of the pantheon of the Romans and Greeks. Yrael, and the Abhorsens. Me. You. We are all the heroes and villains, the gods and monsters of tales. Every single one here is very special in his or her own world. Enough to tell tales of them in many others. Those are the people you are up against, not the good sheeple of Cologne. Do not underestimate any one!"
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For once, he really listens, because Teja explains, instead of exhorting, most of the time.
"They fight crime," Urquhart says. "They work great amazing science. They travel between stars. They are heroic healers that fight for people's lives. That's the tales the future tells. Even wimpy little Guppy Sandhu is a hero of that sort."
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Pause.
"But you understood the principle; any misstep shall forthwith be your own fault entirely. And Demeter shall turn you into a tree if you displease her. Tread more softly, big wolf!"
Another pause.
"Pick up your books."
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"You knew you would let me go. You knew that I would say what you wished, so you might do that."
Beat.
"I need a wheelbarrow for all these."
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"Use that."
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"If I annoy you," he says, "why did you tell the Goth to let me go?"
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Pause.
"Angus."
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He keeps piling books into the canvas sack.
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Pause.
"Ask Ramon Salazar what Demeter can do. As you will be speaking with him anyway."
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He lifts up the sack. Even he, tall and strong as he is, can barely lift it. There were lots of books in those two months.
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He looks Demeter in the eye. His own eyes are even colder and deader than usual.
"I won't be cowed or scared," he says, "but I will remember what Teja said. It's actually helpful, you know."
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