Hellacious Hospitality Ch. 13

This current trip, however, he'd somehow never committed to memory, despite how relevant that knowledge should have been. There had been other distractions, at the time. Whatever changes seemed to have no impact on Lily's navigational skills, however.

Or maybe the delaying effect was just the result of welling dread. He'd made his impassioned plea to Xochitl, but he was operating on a hunch at best. There was no telling what they'd find, or if it would even be of any help in the end. Long-term planning wasn't really his strong suit.

"Are we really doing this?" Merah asked. There was a keen wariness in her eyes that was plainly visible, as she was no longer wearing her hood up. A nimble, snakelike tongue darted periodically between her lips, something she'd never done before in plain sight, either. A sign of nervousness? Most likely, the way she also held half a pace behind.

"You scared? You don't have to come with. Why aren't you with your sister?"

"She finally tired right out. I left her to sleep in our room. I'll just say that I haven't made too many friends here. Not saying they're bad people or anything. It's just that I have problems relating. I was hatched here. I've never met my birth family, nor had any ties to my culture. I'm effectively an outsider. I just have Aila and the faeries, and sometimes I help them tend Mom's garden. And of course, Aunt Lessee's always been there to teach me. I've never really felt I needed more. Oh, and I guess there's one other girl about our age. Just a bit older, actually. I visit and borrow things occasionally. I don't think you've met."

Benson had sort of half tuned-out. Not to be rude, and he was actually quite glad to have Merah's company. Lily had her charms, but she was no conversationalist. But the offhand mention of Caeli as a teacher stirred loose a latent fantasy again. God, he missed her.

"That's good. As long as you're happy, then it doesn't really matter how many friends you have. As long as you aren't shutting yourself out unnecessarily."

Like you're one to talk. But he was trying.

"Anyways, we're out here looking for clues. I don't think we can rely on the faeries to search for your Aunt. I'm sure they'd be up to the task if she were just plain missing. But since she's the one who ran off, I doubt she wants to be found. I'm sure she has her ways around them. Luna was able to evade Lily's detection, after all. And we were all living under one roof for a bit, there."

Merah stopped dead in her tracks. "For real? In all the commotion, I never did get to ask you who that girl was. Are you claiming culpability in that attack?"

"I'm not happy about that either. I thought she was a friend, but she took advantage of my generosity. Don't think I haven't been constantly replaying that decision in my head, wondering if there were any signs I missed, and what I would have done differently had I acted on them. But ultimately it came down to the fact she was lost and in desperate need of a place to call home."

"That nobility is bound to get you into further trouble down the line."

"That I don't doubt. But I don't think I could live with myself if I'd just done nothing."

"I can very much see why Aunt Lessee was so enamored of you. She offered that girl similar in the end, do you remember? Even after all she'd done. Maybe you did make the right decision, just at the wrong time. I can't pretend to understand any of this. I have no idea what I'd have grown up like, without her care."

"So, we good for now? I'd honestly love to hear more about your childhood, but I think Lily's starting to get really impatient with us." Sure enough, she was bobbing in place twenty yards away, getting all huffy like the over-the-top drama queen she was. He didn't exactly blame her. She'd had to put up a lot of their crap over the past while through no fault of her own.

Merah laughed freely. "Alright, alright. Geez, how did a little thing like you get to be so bossy, anyways?"

*****

The heavy iron key slid cleanly into the lock. And fortunately so, because if it didn't, then he was all out of ideas. It had taken more effort than expected to even find it in the first place. Room 471. A number with no significance on its own, just as innocuous as its interior.

Possibly related to how the Haven's spacial relationships had changed, or perhaps a separate side-effect of the attack, but its ability to "heal" itself also seemed affected. At least, the damage to the entry foyer still remained. And with that, the demolition of Caeli's concierge stand.

To their dismay, her sorting rack of keys had become jumbled, spilled in with much of the other rubble. It took the three of them the better part of an hour to sort through the hundreds of them. There wasn't even any guarantee that what he was searching for was among them, but fortune was on their side on that count.

"This feels wrong. It smells like her, yet it feels overwhelming, as if warning me to stay away." Merah cowered with notable trepidation.

"I don't exactly like poking around in a woman's things without her permission, either. But this qualifies as extenuating circumstances, don't you think?"

Caeli's room. There had always been sort of a weird vibe about it. It wasn't until he had witnessed Luna's living arrangements, however, that he was able to put a perfect word to that feeling. Isolation. So stark and sterile, devoid of personal flair. Albeit in different ways, each seemed to stand in denial of the lives they led.

The door latch clicked and Merah shivered.

"Stay outside if you'd prefer. We shouldn't b...pfehh. What the hell?" Entering the room blindly mid-sentence, Benson was met with a faceful of cobwebs. He ducked reflexively, brushing them out of his mouth and hair.

Merah followed more cautiously, leading with the tip of her tail and swiping through the air to clear away the clingy white strands. She fumbled around in the dark for the light switch, only for it to click on-and-off ineffectually. Sufficiently clearing the doorway, she reached out a hand to help him back to his feet.

"Eeugh. Gross." His tongue still felt fuzzy and ever so slightly numb. "There aren't any spiders crawling all over me, are there?"

"Nope. It's a good thing Farzaneh wasn't around to hear you say that. I think we're in the clear. I'm not sensing any about. Is it supposed to be like this? Her tastes are stranger than I imagined. And I thought there'd be... more."

"Who? Ah, never mind. Some other time. You've really never been here, huh?"

"Not that I can ever remember."

"Well, last time I visited, it certainly wasn't like this. It was just ordinary. A little too ordinary." He tried the light switch again for himself, only to receive a sour "Do you really think I'm that stupid?" glare from Merah. He could only shrug as he fished his phone out of his pocket and turned on the flashlight.

Apart from the thick batting of spider silk in the way and the non-functioning lights, nothing else seemed amiss. The bed and nightstand and everything were as he recalled. As most of the webbing appeared to have settled mostly at shoulder height, they kept low to avoid any more unpleasantness.

Aiming the beam of light towards her dresser, Benson gestured to Lily. "Mind checking that out for me real quick? I'm just hoping that there's no weird magic stuff going on. If so, there might be trouble." With the faerie's hyper-awareness of her surroundings, she nimbly traversed the room, almost playfully dodging what few strands of sticky silken thread obstructed her path. Her lackadaisical attitude seemed to confirm no immediately danger, and sure enough, she gave the all-clear sign after giving the dresser's exterior a thorough inspection.

That was pretty much the first good news he'd had all day, and just that small gesture carried with it a massive shot of relief.

Clambering as quickly as he could on all-fours, he slid open the bottom drawer of her dresser, eyes lighting up upon finding the prize within.

"Oh, thank god, it's still here."

"What? What did you find?"

"I'm pretty sure it's her diary."

*****

For privacy's sake, Merah insisted they go to her room to investigate further. It was the only place in the Haven where they could remain undisturbed. They'd agreed with Xochitl not to discuss Caeli's disappearance openly yet. They were among what could be described as her "inner circle" - her closest friends and family. Unnecessary rumor-mongering and panic among the denizens wouldn't benefit their situation at all.

"Umm, it's not as grand as Aunt Ia's quarters, but I hope you like it."

"Like" really wasn't the operative word here. Did this even qualify as a room?

Stepping through the threshold of the door, he was instantaneously transported to a jungle glade. The entrance led directly onto a natural stone path that led to a smoothly-weathered cliff-side outcropping. Gnarled and ancient tropical trees cast deep shadows around, and everything smelled fresh and vibrant. The sound of a stream murmured in the background. Even though they were "indoors", the sunlight that streamed between the leaves felt warm and authentic.

This sort of thing was exactly what left him so bewildered at Caeli's state of living. It was like she didn't even care about herself.

He ran to the edge of the stone platform, staring in awe into the distance. He reached past its edge, overlooking a winding river fed by spectacular waterfalls, finding an expansive jungle basin below. Past a certain point, he was unable to encroach further, his arm stopped short in open space.

Merah grasped his other arm by the elbow and gently pulled him back from the edge. Suddenly whispering, "It's just an illusion, silly. Come away from there." Holding a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture, she pointed upwards, where he'd apparently completely missed Aila perched on a low tree branch, snoozing silently. Beneath her was a thatched mat ringed with woven twigs and branches, and lined with soft-looking feathers. Not Aila's own, though. These ones were drab and gray-ish.

"Is that what you do when a girl invites you over to her place? You immediately rush to her bed chambers?"

"I...erm..."

"Hehehe. I'm just teasing. We don't usually get to entertain guests here, so I thought I'd take my chance to have some fun. Anyways, I want her to get a proper sleep. And besides, don't leave me hanging about what you had us go digging around for."

Benson wasn't sure how he could have forgotten about that, if even momentarily. But the things the Haven was capable of was simply... boggling.

Merah lead them around a side path he hadn't noticed before to a cozy wooded alcove. Its own little slice of tranquility away from the main room, and as mysterious and enchanting in its own right. Its most notable feature was a giant tree split in such a way that half of it folded over perfectly horizontal, creating a sturdy desk that was currently piled high with books on varying subjects. In spite of the overgrown, natural look of the abode, it supported certain modernisms just fine. She had an old MP3 player with its charging cable socketed into a knothole, which seemed to be somehow fully functional. Soft cushions were piled around, making for a cozy little study nook.

Scanning the pile of literature, he read an eclectic mix of titles and topics ranging anywhere from musical theory, to a couple of what must have been Caeli's hand-purchased Harry Potter volumes. He didn't catch many more before Merah hastily shoved them aside to clear space. Tying back some of the overhead foliage allowed a column of sunlight to illuminate the space like a lamp.

"Alright, let's see it."

Benson laid the leather-bound journal on the desk. He'd caught a glimpse of it before, without recognizing its significance. The "Vespera" in finely-embossed script on the hard-bound tome hadn't meant anything before. Not until she'd provided herself an alias at Friday's office meeting. It all but cemented it as belonging to her.

Unfortunately, they'd quickly discovered that it was locked. Scrounging around in the dark turned up no leads on a key, and the lonely atmosphere of the room had been so discouraging that they couldn't bear to continue longer. Lily was off interrogating any of the other faeries that frequented her room, in hopes of turning up some clues.

"So close, yet so far. I knew it seemed too easy. " He was actually starting to doubt how sensitive the information the diary potentially contained could be, since there hadn't seemed to be advanced attempts at security. Haphazardly thrown at the bottom of a drawer, it was more like she was keeping it out of reach from herself. "I really don't want to break it. This thing looks ancient, but extremely well cared for. Absolute last resort."

"What about the other stuff you grabbed?"

"I guess we can take a look through it, but I don't know how much good it'll do unless you know someone who can read it."

"Let's give it a look, first. Remember, we promised we wouldn't involve anyone else unnecessarily."

Beneath the book had been another stack of papers, neatly tied off with a ribbon. These ones looked far more a match for the journal's age, stained and dog-eared with time. Quite likely the diary's original contents, before the book had been re-bound with fresh sheets, whose crisp white edges could be seen between the covers.

Written in a fine and delicate script, the high-quality ink was still bold and plainly visible, but whatever language it conveyed was indecipherable to the both of them. He untied the bundle and handed Merah about half of it.

Whatever it said, she certainly had a lot of it to say. The letters were small on the page and tightly-spaced. He'd never seen her handwriting before, but it was easy to believe it was hers. Her precision of movement carried through even to the fine penmanship. Page after page, completely illegible to his Anglophone brain. But there was a certain loving quality to it that spoke volumes. It was probably chock full of her stories, like the one she'd related about her time in the abbey. Occasionally, he'd stop to admire the number of hand-drawn sketches interspersed within, likely of locales she'd visited. Nothing so photo-realistic, but detailed enough that they exuded warmth and nostalgia.

"Oh, wow! Look at this!"

"Whatcha got there?"

From her bundle from the bottom half of the stack, she produced a larger, folded sheet of paper. A noticeably different stock than the parchment they were holding, it looked to be a well-preserved vellum. Semi-translucent, all he could see was a dark smudge from the back. Turning it over for the dramatic reveal, his eyes bulged out of their sockets.

She presented him a stunning portrait of Caeli, exquisitely rendered in black and white charcoal. Merah handled it very delicately, careful not to smudge its surface as she laid it over her desk for them to examine in closer detail.

Compared to the notebook sketches, this work bore the hallmarks of a more practiced artist's touch. The charcoal was smoothly blended to capture with exacting detail every curve and crease in Caeli's perfect body, of which she had it all on display. Depicted in the barest of stretched hide garments, there seemed to be more leather strings to hold it in place than there was actual cloth. The only thing skimpier would be some of the micro-bikinis some girls wore today. But for what was likely several hundred years ago, the outfit would have been outright pornographic, and a surefire heartstopper. The artist captured her luxurious mane of hair billowing freely in the wind. White highlights made her positively glow against the implied background of the night sky, and the eyes sparkled with a care-free kind of mischief.

Even though very little had physically changed for her over the years, the portrait carried with it an undeniably youthful energy.

"Where do you think this came from?"

"One of her paramours, maybe? What else ya got, there?" He leafed quickly through the remaining pages in his hand, but found nothing of similar interest.

Shaking with new anticipation, Merah braced herself against his shoulder while she presented the remaining stack, page-by-page. Back to the tanned parchment of the notebook, and the same, scratchy pen style of the drawings he'd already seen. But now, instead of places, the sketches showed people.

It began with a section of pages that seemed dedicated to her time spent as a nun, beginning with an elderly woman in a hooded veil, in all likelihood the Mother Superior that she'd spoken so highly of. Initial pages were heavily smeared and scribbled over, evidence of aborted sketches peeking through. It had evidently taken a few attempts to settle on an art style that captured that warm, motherly face well. Following her, a further series of pages featuring other women and young girls, similarly clad, all accompanied by short write-ups.

Delving further into the volume, the content eventually diversified. Mostly men were depicted now, but there were a few women as well. There didn't seem to be any thematic links between them. Some younger, some more mature. Some with noble looks, others with a rugged, worldly air. She'd resumed her travels again. If these were her prior lovers, she really didn't seem to discriminate.

They leafed through those pages quite quickly. It didn't take long, though, before the faces started looking familiar.

"Is that Aunt Ia?" With her large round eyes and ribbons of kelp-like hair, it couldn't be anyone but.

"And this is definitely Xochitl." Even paper and ink couldn't hide her smug, self-superior attitude. However, her portrait lacked the air of barely-restrained righteous indignation she held onto now. Here, she almost looked, for lack of a better word, happy.

More and more pages and faces flipped by. The confidence of the artistic lines heightened as they progressed, but conversely, so did Merah's composure seem to wane. The swell of her lungs drew deeper, and the pages seemed to fly by faster and faster, until she saw something that made her stop dead in her tracks.

Right as they reached the end of the manuscript, there was a back-to-back illustration of two freshly-hatched eggs, each unveiling their own adorably chubby little babies. One with damp, scraggly feathers, and the other with a stumpy little scaled tail.

"This is us, isn't it?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper, so overcome with emotion.

"It must be."

"And it all ends, right here. There's no more..."

"It seems not. What's wrong?"

"All these faces. All these people. I can tell how much she loved them all. And all these places. The world. I believe her, when she says she wants us to be able to see it all. So why? Why does this end with us? Mom was saying that she wasn't taking good enough care of herself. Did raising us take so much of her time and energy that it caused her to give up on her dream? Is this our fault?"

She really doesn't know anything.

"NO! Don't. Don't think like that. Don't even start. "

On the verge of a breakdown, he hugged Merah tightly around the shoulders, hoping to calm her.

"She loves you. She cherishes you. Each and every single one of you. There's no way she blames you. If she found out you were crying over her, she'd sooner blame herself."

"Ha..." she forced a chuckle to stave off the tears. "You're right, That does sound like her. I don't know what got into me. Maybe... maybe I'm more tired than I thought. If I rest my eyes for a bit, maybe I'll be able to find something that I didn't notice before. You, too. You can sleep here, if you'd like. There's lots of comfy pillows around to make a nice bed. Or do whatever. I don't really care. Thanks, and good night."