Bone Diggers - Chapter Thirty

Loading... Chapter Thirty

Ah, the price he would pay for that traitor's kiss and his lost love. Amilia's family home was silent enough for ghosts. Daniel found a chair that he figured to be Dimitri's, considering the fine detailing. He pulled out his weapons and placed them down before sitting. This wasn't about revenge.

Dimitri walked into his house without much wait, but came to a short stop inside when he found Daniel. He glanced at the weapons spread across the desk before speaking. "What do you want, boy?"

"Daniel," he corrected with an extra harshness. After everything, the man could at least call him by his name. "Where is she?" Daniel asked. "I want to be at the funeral."

Dimitri cocked his head in confusion before annoyance won out. Celio stepped in, nearly bumping into his father before he saw the scene he walked into.

"Don't tell me you don't have the stomach for such a simple request," Daniel added.

Celio drew a sword, but his father blocked his path with his arm. "Leave it," Dimitri demanded. "He just came to ask about your cousin's funeral."

"You don't belong at her funeral. It was you that dragged her into the mess, and it's your fault she's gone," Celio said.

"We appreciate the sentiment, Daniel," Dimitri said. He paused for a second with the practice of a salesman. "But you are not a friend of the family, nor are you her husband. In the wake of losing yet another lady of the family, you have no right to be here. Amilia would have wanted it this way."

"I belong with Amilia," Daniel said. The words made him feel rather silly. She wasn't a claim to be fought over. "It wasn't me who caused her to run away. So don't you dare tell me what she would and wouldn't have wanted." He tried not to make things personal, but it was proving impossible. "What sort of beast would deny such a request? Once—just once—will you allow me to mourn my dead?"

"I lost control of her when she met you. I lost a girl that was like my daughter," Dimitri said, also losing his calm. "You've known her for a matter of months. So don't tell me you belong with Amilia, and don't call her one of your dead. She isn't yours to mourn, not when she denied you at her last moment." He stepped out from the doorway now, waving a hand to get Celio to step back too. "Now, I think it's time for you to leave."

Daniel grabbed one of the throwing knives off the table. His fingers tightened so hard around the handle that his knuckles turned white. Despite the anger, Dimitri shook him up so much he looked down, as if reprimanded by his own father. "It would seem that way."

He took a moment to gather his weapons, putting everything back in its proper place. As Daniel walked to the door, he paused and turned to Dimitri again. "Pray we never meet again, for if we do I'll take your last heir as well." A bitter part of him wanted to do it now, but someone who Amilia loved should be around to go to her funeral. Even if it wasn't him.

Daniel walked out of their house with a confident stride. But once he was far enough away, that waned until he needed to brace himself on a nearby wall. Days ago, Amilia was in his arms, and now she had been ripped away by design. Had everything been a trick, or was it as simple as trading her life for her families? He walked on, until he found himself climbing up the stairs to her other home. This place was as neutral as Amilia got, away from her family, and away from him.

Being inside somehow made him feel better and worse at the same time. He curled up on the bed he once woke up on. "Please come back," he whispered. Returning from the dead, however, would take no less than a miracle. Daniel repeated the words over and over until they spilled out of Owen's mouth too.

"I can't do this." Owen ripped off the headgear. If it was all just a game, why did it matter so much? His hands soon ran through his hair in frustration. He didn't have time for this. Owen checked his phone, and realized he literally didn't have time for this. He had to go to work. Owen wasn't even sure he had slept last night, but it wasn't like he could call in citing that his favorite character had died.

No matter how much you loved a job, some part of it was always torture. Today it was the combo of dyslexia and spell checking for his boss. Owen squinted at the text on the page. It wasn't hard to read per se, more that after reading the article over a couple of times he started to question if dreadfully common words were actually spelled that way. He had confirmed it was right three times already, but it still looked wrong.

Owen lifted his eyes off the paper and exhaled. Maybe a quick breather would help. Breathe in. Breathe out. He glanced towards the glass door, imagining the lobby between this office and the others on the floor. He imagined somewhere open and free of words that made him doubt he passed a single spelling test in his life.

A woman passed by, her dress a rich green and not of their time. Chestnut curls bounced on her shoulders as she walked. "Amilia," Owen whispered. Within a second he was up, and pushing the door open to catch her. A step outside their office, he stopped cold. Wait. That was impossible. Owen spun around the lobby trying to figure out what he saw that made him ever think it was Amilia in the first place.

"Hey stranger."

"Oh, it's you."

"Who did you expect, silly?" Andreah asked. Her hands were holding onto the straps of her backpack. Owen narrowed his eyes, like this wasn't quite right either. He looked past her for someone else. Andreah looked over her shoulder in confusion. "What?"

"Nothing." Owen shook his head, and looked at Andreah without actually focusing on her for a second. "What are you doing up here? I thought you liked dropping packages downstairs."

"I just wanted to see you. Okay, fine, and the lawyers on this floor tip friggin' well if I come upstairs to drop off their paperwork. But seeing you is a pretty nice bonus." Andreah leaned in as if preparing for a kiss, but when Owen didn't seem to get the hint, she fell back onto her heels. "Why don't you come over tonight? I'll cook something."

"I'm not hungry."

"Uh, that's why I said tonight?"

"I'm sorry. I'm in a weird head space right now." He took another breath, and started the conversation over. "That sounds great, but I made plans tonight. Rain check?"

Andreah nodded along, but couldn't work up another smile. "No, it's fine. I should have asked sooner."

Owen gave her a peck of a kiss that caused her sure footing to waver. "I should get back to work, I sort-of stormed out without telling anyone." He took a backward step towards their office. "You, me, dinner another night."

"Well, if you insist."

A smile graced his face before he headed back.

***

Logging on to Age of Shadows felt excruciatingly harder each time. Daniel's emptiness was contagious. Even worse was the sense of red hot grief that boiled in both of them. He must have messed up somewhere. This was on him, and it was driving him mad that he didn't know where the mistake was made. But the game went on.

Daniel sat in the thieves' bureau, looking out into the courtyard. This was where he belonged, he told himself, married to duty, honor, and the tenants they wrote. His fingers traced along his lips, obsessed with other thoughts.

He felt someone put their hand on his shoulder as they walked around. Startled, he turned to see Lucas walk around and take a seat near him. "I'm sorry about what happened."

While it was nice, the thoughts didn't settle.

"Lance told us everything," Lucas continued, "We all lose people, but what happened was regrettable. You still have us though. We are a fellowship until the end."

"Thanks." Daniel's eyes lifted with Lucas as he stood, and were silently drawn to where he glanced. Lance was off down the hall talking to Abel. Maybe he should just thank God that Abel hadn't come over to rub everything in his face. Daniel's brow knitted together. Maybe Lance didn't tell them everything. Certainly why Amilia was put to death, and that her uncle was one of the knights would be included. But other key parts, like finding Amilia first and her refusal to return, could have been left out.

When they were called to gather in the main assembly, Daniel rubbed his eyes before joining the others. Not even a hint of a single tear would do around them. The slight delay made him the last one to fall into place, but it didn't seem to matter.

"The Knights can take someone from us at any minute," Gael said, surely referring to what happened with Amilia. "Which is why we must stay vigilant, but we also must remember we are in another war. Not just as thieves, but as Spanish citizens. I'm going to send four of you to go steal an important message coming from officials outside the city."

"Four of us, Master?" Lucas asked.

"Seguridad en los numeros," Daniel said, despite the question not being for him.

Gael nodded. "Si. I want the four of you to go." He waved his hands towards Abel, Lucas, Lance, and Daniel, who were loosely grouped together.

"Awh, but I wanted to go!" Isidoro whined.

"Maybe next time," Lucas said, poking at him like he was their collective little brother.

"Now go get ready," Gael said, and dismissed everyone but Daniel. "Are you with us right now, son?"

"Of course," Daniel said, but this didn't seem to be convincing enough, so he continued. "I'm a thief first and foremost."

Gael still wasn't convinced, but he really didn't have time to spare because of the British. "Go catch up with the others, Ortiz."

During the mission, Abel tried to take the lead despite them all being in equal rank. "We will cut across the bridge, and split up to cover more ground. We can intercept the messenger, then reconvene at dusk."

"The bridge has too many people," Lance said. "We should go up further and loop back around."

"Let's just do what Abel says. It's going to be faster anyway," Daniel said, and ran ahead with bridge plan.

Lance's jaw dropped. Since when did Daniel agree with Abel over him? The only vote left was Lucas. He shrugged as if to tell Lance 'guess we are stuck now' before running ahead as well.

Abel smirked, proud of the unusual support he got from Daniel. Now alone with Lance he taunted him. "You can go around if you want to, but I would have thought your frog legs would have preferred the path over water."

Lance glared, not willing to back down. It was pointless to get into with Abel. He didn't pick fights for a reason, he just enjoyed being an ass. Lance mumbled in French that it would've been better if Abel had died instead before taking the same path as everyone.

Just like Lance pointed out, there were too many men stationed. Their group quickly became stuck behind cover. Any chance of taking out the guards was ruined by the foot traffic. The thunk of an arrow hitting their cover caused Daniel to do something about it. "Do you want me to go out there? I could be a distraction, while you three crawl around the side." he asked Abel.

"Go ahead," Abel grinned.

The interaction made Lance sick as Daniel ran out from the cover. Abel always enjoyed sending people into danger. Anything to avoid him risking his own life. The only thing that could have made him happier was if he was behind a desk somewhere moving Daniel like a pawn.

Abel and Lucas ran to the sides, and climbed down on the bridge. Lance stayed behind, stealing a glance at Daniel, wondering if he should help. Daniel seemed to be doing fine on his own. He threw two knives in separate men, and left them there to suffer as he moved onto to the next target. Gael shouldn't have let Daniel come, he wasn't even fighting like himself. With a sigh, Lance decided to climb around the side with the others, doubting they'd be able to fight together with their usual grace. Daniel was no longer himself, and the lack of remorse hinted that this was only the beginning of his bloodlust.

The others secured the letter they were assigned to steal, and Daniel broke off from the fight at their signal. The lot made camp in the forest for the night. A fire provided warmth and light in the gloomy evening. Lucas and Abel sat on one side playing marbles. Abel was clearly losing, and made Lucas snicker every time he complained about it.

Daniel was hardly paying attention to them, or Lance, who he sat next to. Instead, he stared ahead to the forest as if expecting someone else to show. Lance watched the others play, not feeling enough mirth to join in, when there was a sudden weight on his shoulder. He turned his head to see Daniel resting his head. It seemed doubtful that he'd fall asleep so suddenly, but the hood covered all the evidence either way.

Owen pulled his headset off with one quick motion, letting it clatter against his desk. The piece of tech was worthless at the moment, and only served to annoy him further. He put his head down, waiting for his headache to dull before he sat up again. If losing your companion NPC was normal, this must mean it happened to someone else, right? He pulled up the AoS community boards, checked the keywords of companion death, and NPC death. There was a shit load of questions about how to get them, what they could do once found, and one person—who everyone thought was trolling—claiming they lost one after an argument. He thought of writing a new post, but groaned at the idea of twenty people asking him his username. Especially after seeing a sponsored article about if role playing would become the next big thing.

The faint pulse from his phone caught his attention, and he scrolled over the collection of texts and missed calls all from Neal and Emily. Owen sat forward quickly, cursing under his breath as he called Neal back.

"Where the hell have you been?" Neal scolded even before a hello. "Emily went into labor two hours ago."

"I'm sorry, my phone was on silent." It was the truth, even if he knew better than to have done it. "You're at Memorial, right?"

"Yeah. Hurry up and get over here," Neal ordered before hanging up.

Owen dashed downstairs and hailed a cab. He probably shouldn't have run the whole way from the cab to Em's room, but in his haste, any 'no running in the hallway' rules were ignored. When he saw Neal, he slowed his pace to calmly stop in front of him. "What's going on? Is she still in there?"

"Yeah, I just came out to wait for you. She's fine. They aren't sure how much longer until the baby actually comes. The doctor is expecting any minute. Which could be..." Neal tossed his hand in the air. "Who knows."

Owen's hands nervously rested on top of his head, like he was the one who needed measured breaths. "Right, can I go in?"

"The doctor was being an ass about some policy I think they made up. Anyways, they weren't going to let any non-family in until Em blurted a lie that I was the father." Owen shook his head, mishearing that at first, and stared wordlessly on as Neal went on. "Anyways, I have to get back in there. I'll come back out when I can."

Neal went back in, leaving Owen awkwardly standing in the hallway. He glanced around, wondering if he should find a waiting room, before he decided to just camp outside. Being crouched out front made him feel like an ass, and each text or missed call notification he cleared seemed to prove it.

Owen rested his head on his knees and waited. Sometime later—an hour at least—a doctor and their staff came out of the room. A nurse gave him a funny look, but said nothing. He scrambled to his feet, wanting to rush into the room. Should he? Shouldn't he?

Another doctor stepped out, and after seeing Owen's face light up, realized he must have been waiting. "You can go in."

"Thank you," Owen mumbled, and squeezed past.

Emily was sitting up in the bed. In a cream blanket, he spotted a small hand holding Em's pinky. In a close to silent room, he heard the tiny breathes from the baby. Owen's eyes finally tore from the child when he got closer.

"Took you long enough," Emily said, smiling despite—or maybe because of—what obviously just happened. She looked tired, and her cheeks were bright red under the ugly hospital lights, but seemed to glow all the same.

Owen smiled faintly before looking back down at the baby. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, you're still ahead of Rick by weeks," she joked, and looked back to her child. "I went with the name Rachel."

Owen blinked, trying to refocus too. What did you even say to someone who just gave birth and was being unjustly nice to you? Emily's light tone didn't fix the feeling that he let her down for not being here sooner. "Such a cute baby, Em."

"Yeah." Emily smiled. "I know I'm biased, but I think so too."

Owen pulled a chair closer to the bed, both wanting to hold the tiny bundle and never wanting to be allowed to touch.

"Em said that I get to be the godfather," Neal said.

Owen turned in the chair towards him. Neal had been standing in the corner, certainly not far away enough to be forgotten about. But Owen had, for a moment. He laughed, and shook his head as he glanced towards Emily. "You know what they say about early birds."

"Well actually," she started, but the baby made a strange noise. It was actually a very normal sounding noise, but today, any noise warranted attention. Em chuckled softly, trying not to disturb the bundle resting on her chest. "Godparents aren't a Jewish tradition. So, if I'm going to have them, might have well break a few other norms too."

Owen started to get a sneaking suspicion that they were up to something. Neal chuckled, and sat on a counter he likely wouldn't been allowed to if the doctors were still around. "She wants us to both be godfathers."

"Two fathers?" Owen glanced at them both still expecting a punchline. When none came, he grinned along with the rest of them. "How progressive of you. What will your mother say?"

Emily pursed her lips thinking about. She looked down at the baby as if a suggestion would be volunteered. "Likely, 'oh gosh look at my adorable grandchild," she said picking up a baby voice, "I could eat 'em up.'"