Relatively Normal Secrets by C.W. Allen

Author:C.W. Allen [Allen, C.W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cinnabar Moth Publishing LLC
Published: 2021-07-06T06:16:00+00:00

Chapter 17

TURNING THE TABLES

Tuesday and Zed were reunited with Nyx, just as Aletha had promised. She hadn’t mentioned it would be in jail though—minor detail. But that was the Green Fly’s decision, after all, Zed reminded himself. Aletha was just doing her job.

After they stopped by the first room to retrieve Nyx, Solomon directed them to another, very similar room. This one had no table or chairs, just three bedrolls on the polished white floor. There was another door at the back of the room though—that was different.

“I hope your accommodations will be adequate,” Solomon said. “They’re nicer than most of our agents have access to, in fact. The bathroom is through the door on the back wall. There’s also a small laundry port inside—set your clothes in the port as you shower, and they’ll be cleaned and ready before you are.”

He turned to go but paused with his hand on the doorknob for one last word.

“I often find that getting myself cleaned up clears my head as well. I hope you’ll reconsider your position—this situation could be mutually beneficial, if managed correctly.” With a meaningful glance directed at Tuesday, he closed the door and was gone.

“Why’d you have to go and tell her so much?” Tuesday sulked once they were alone.

“Everything I told her was true, but she didn’t really learn much from it,” said Zed. “Besides, why are you so dead set on keeping secrets from her?”

“Because she’s a bandit! Or a supervillain! Or…something.” Tuesday realized they actually had no idea who they were dealing with. Still, her pride was at stake. She wasn’t about to go spilling what few beans she had control of just because grownups she had never met ordered her to. In fact, Tuesday decided abruptly—yes. She would refuse to talk simply because they had ordered her to. “I don’t care how that lady threatens us, I’m not saying another word.”

“She hasn’t actually threatened us,” Zed pointed out. “I mean, we’re locked up until we cooperate, but it’s not like they’re pulling out torture devices or anything.”

“Yet,” Tuesday added with a huff.

She stalked off to the bathroom. Part of her felt that accepting any hospitality from her captors was essentially giving in, which on principle she rarely did, and even then only on her own terms. But once Solomon mentioned the possibility of a shower, Tuesday became keenly aware of just how grimy the adventures of the last two days had left her. Every inch of exposed skin was coated in dust, she smelled like campfire smoke, her tennis shoes and the bottoms of her jeans were absolutely filthy where the cloak had not covered them, and most of all, Tuesday longed to brush her teeth. She ran her fingers self-consciously through her hair and discovered a dried leaf caught in a tangle at the back of her head.

Lights in the ceiling came on as she opened the door—not in a sudden click like in public restrooms back home, but silently and somewhat gradually, as though they took a moment to stretch and yawn before waking up.

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