The In Between - 12. Salvo

12 ~Salvo~

Jordan stared down at Dathilda's motionless body, before gently bending over and closing her eyes. The black centers were their normal size, but the surrounding whites were crimson, filled with blood from burst vessels. He picked up a bed sheet from where it was folded neatly next to her still body and gently snapped it open over her, let it float down to cover her. He made especially sure that her face and feet were covered, tucking the edges in around her body.

He had come in to check on her when she hadn't shown up for most of the day. He had been nervous about entering her private quarters, a nervousness that compounded itself into panic when he called for her, vocally and psychically and had gotten no response. She was already cold and blue when he touched her and he could see the traces of old blood leaking out of her eyes and nose, ears.

He sat down in a chair next to her bed, staring at the sheet covered body. Body, because she was dead and everyone around him was dying just like...

He pressed the heel of his hand against his burning eyes, refusing to let himself drift down that path again, refused to let the past rise up and haunt him again. He had to think, had to keep his cool, because he and Brandon were strangers here and they were in the house of a woman who was now dead and there was no way that was going to end up well for them.

He stood up and turned to leave, saw a piece of paper lying on her dresser, held down by a small flat piece of metal.

He pulled it free and read it.

Young one.
Take this.
Find Salvo.
Mention my name. He will help you.
Good luck.

He picked up the pendent, a flat circular piece of metal with a hole in the center and grooves radiating out from the center, like rays from the sun. A leather cord was strung through it. Jordan turned it over in his fingers a few times. It was heavy. He finally tied the ends of the cord together securely and slid it over his head. It sat with a cold, heavy weight against his chest. He folded up the note and stuck it into his pocket, then left the room, shutting the door carefully behind him.

He walked outside, where Brandon was sitting in the doorway, watching the people passing by.

"Dathilda told me that there is a festival this week," Jordan said. "That's why you see all these awesome costumes."

Brandon nodded, but said nothing. Jordan felt a tug of worry. It was like Mardi Gras out there and Brandon had nothing to say about it?

Instead, Jordan gave him a gentle nudge with his foot against his hip. "Grab anything you need to take with you. We're leaving."

Brandon glanced at him. "Why?"

"We need to go find a person by the name of Salvo. I'll explain to you once we get going. Hurry up."

Brandon got to his feet and walked inside, returned a few moments later with his knapsack in hand. "Are you hungry?" Brandon asked. "Dathilda gave me some money yesterday. I can buy us some food."

"She gave you money?"

Brandon nodded. "She wanted one of my pictures. I didn't want her to give me any money, but she put it inside my bag anyway when I wasn't paying attention. I can go and give it back to her."

Jordan shook his head. "No, don't go back in there. Start walking."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Start walking. Now," Jordan said, pressing a hand against Brandon's lower back, being mindful of where his injuries were, even though Brandon hadn't complained of pain for days.

Brandon lengthened his strides to keep up with Jordan. "What's going on?"

"Dathilda is dead."

Brandon slowed and Jordan knew that if he was given an opportunity, Brandon would try to turn back towards the house. "Don't," Jordan said firmly, applying some more pressure with his hand. "Keep walking."

"But-"

"There is nothing you can do."

"But how can you know-"

"Trust me, I know. She's gone. She left a note asking us to find this Salvo guy."

Brandon's steps slowed again and he swallowed. "She left a note? Did-Did she commit suicide?"

"I don't know," Jordan said. "I don't think so. It didn't look like it. But she knew what was coming. She...look, I'll explain it later. But for right now, we need to find this Salvo."

"Jordan-"

"Keep walking."

Salvo wasn't a hard man to find. They simply stopped one of the first people they found on the street, asked about him and was directed to one of the many small shops lining the main street.

Salvo was a stout, stocky man with dark hair covering his head and face. The shop that he owned was called an apothecary, which in Brandon's mind translated into a shop that stank, because it smelled awful in there (Jordan later told Brandon that an apothecary was like a pharmacy, and Brandon still didn't think that excused the smell). Brandon made a point to try to breathe through his mouth without being too obvious about it. Jordan, who didn't seem to notice, went up to Salvo, introduced both of them and gave him the pendent. Salvo took it, studied it curiously. "Where did you find this?" Salvo asked, turning it over in his thick fingers.

"Dathilda gave it to me and told me to find you," Jordan said.

Salvo grunted. "And why could she not come see me herself? And what do you need from me?"

"I need you to help me find someone. And Dathilda..." Jordan made sure to meet his eyes. "She is dead."

Salvo stared at him firmly for a moment. "And you know this because?"

"I saw...I...She..." Jordan's voice broke and he found that he couldn't force out the words he needed to tell Salvo what had happened.

"Alright." Salvo's stern face softened slightly and he put a large hand on Jordan's shoulder, led him to the back, into a small room crammed with wooden crates and boxes. There was a dusty table with a few bottles set upon it. Salvo took one of the bottles and poured out a small shot of liquid into a cup and gave it to Jordan. Brandon, who had followed, could catch the sharp strong scent of alcohol underneath the layers of rougher, less pleasant aromas and felt a responsive pull in his stomach. Trying hard to ignore the urge, he squeezed himself up next to Jordan, who was sitting in a small chair near the door. "Drink this," Salvo urged.

Jordan took the cup with trembling hands and tried to ignore the sobs that were jerking at his chest. He swallowed all of it at once, choked and coughed on it as it burned fierce fire down his throat. He gave the cup back and braced his forehead against his fists.

"Rest here for a minute, son," Salvo said and stepped out of the room, giving Brandon a small, discreet wave of his hand to indicate he should follow. Brandon stepped outside with Salvo. "I'm going to close the shop and go check Dathilda's dwelling," he said. "No one will think of me closing up early during festival week, but regardless, don't open the door for anybody, okay?"

"Alright."

"Go speak to your companion there. Did she communicate directly to him?"

"Yes."

Salvo nodded gravely. "That forms a strong bond whether the two individuals like each other or not. He's reeling as much from her death as he would from anyone who was close to him."

Brandon nodded as Salvo left the shop, locking the door behind him. Jordan was still sitting where Brandon had left him, his forehead against his hands. Brandon approached him carefully, kneeling down in front of him so he could see his downward tilted face. He reached up and touched Jordan's face carefully. Jordan jerked away from him turning his face to one side.

"Don't." Jordan's voice was rough and coarse.

"Don't what?" Brandon asked. "Don't care? Don't try to comfort you? When you are sitting there with tears all over your face?"

Jordan angrily rubbed the heels of his hands over his face. "I'm fine," he insisted through gritted teeth.

"Really?" Brandon asked. "Because I'm not. Because you don't have to be." Brandon moved forward, scooting on his knees against the hard dirty floor, arms coming around Jordan's waist and his head pressing up against his chest, right below his chin. "Stop being so fuckin' strong. Let me be here for you."

Jordan rested his face on the top of Brandon's head; let tears water his hair. "I don't understand," Jordan finally managed in between sobs. "I hardly knew her."

"It's normal," Brandon reassured him. "Salvo told me. And besides, it makes sense when you think about it. She spoke to you, psychically right? So technically, isn't that a type of bonding? Not like yours and mine, but maybe a different kind?"

Jordan shook his head. "I don't know, I just don't know."

"It doesn't matter," Brandon said. "It doesn't matter. She was a good woman and this miserable world is worse off without her."

"Yeah," Jordan agreed, sniffing.

Salvo returned several hours later decidedly more somber, and Brandon felt his heart sink. Salvo caught his gaze and shook his head slightly.

"Now what?" Brandon asked quietly. Jordan remained sitting where he was, looking up at the two of them talking.

"Well..." Salvo sighed and ran a huge hand over his face. "You said you needed to find someone?"

"We need to see the Queen."

Salvo grunted and rolled his eyes.

"Does the Queen not accept visitors?" Brandon asked.

"You can't just waltz up off the street and expect to see the Queen. That's ridiculous. You have to have rank or privilege and judging from the appearance of you, you have neither."

"We are Outworlders," Brandon said and watched Salvo's expression carefully. Surprise, suspicion.

"And what is your proof?" Salvo asked. Brandon thought over that for a minute. What proof did they have? Brandon finally dug into his pockets, pulled out a handful of change, dropping a nickel and several pennies into Salvo's hand. "Does this look like any currency you would use here?"

Salvo turned it over in his fingers, studying them curiously. "These aren't from around here."

"No. Because we are not from around here."

"The currency that we have always used carries the Goddesses face. These are men."

"Again, definitely not from around here."

"Where did you get these?"

"We use these as currency where we come from. I can promise you that you won't find any around here that doesn't come from an Outworlder's hand."

Salvo studied the coins for a few more seconds before glancing up at Brandon. "Okay, Outworlder. Here is a piece of news you might appreciate. I can probably get you into the castle. But beyond that, you are on your own. If I get found out, I can be charged with treason and be killed. And if anyone but Dathilda had sent you here, I would be turning you over to the guard right now."

"Are you willing to make sacrifices?" Brandon asked.

"Anything for our Queen."

Salvo shooed them out of his shop for a few hours so he could work on a plan to get them into the castle. During that respite, Brandon went out to walk around the town a little, anxious to be outside and to explore. Jordan walked alongside him and Brandon itched to hold his hand, but wasn't brave enough to in this new unfamiliar environment and so just settled for letting his knuckles brush against Jordan's every so often.

When they passed a makeshift booth, one of many crowding the streets, Brandon slowed and stopped, then reached out and tugged on Jordan's wrist to stop him as well. "Look," Brandon whispered.

Jordan turned and saw a girl inside the booth. Jordan wasn't sure if she was entirely human... Her coloring was entirely wrong. Or perhaps humans in this world had pale green skin and dark, mossy green eyes and hair. Aside from that, she looked like any other woman. She was wearing a short blouse and a low riding skirt, both in bright white that shown sharply against her skin. The booth she was standing in was rimmed with silver bells of different sizes and she had strings of tiny round bells wrapped around her waist and circling her wrists. She noticed Brandon and Jordan watching and smiled, then turned to her bells and began to play, hitting the bells with small mallets, twisting her body slightly to cause the bells around waist to chime along. She played with perfect precision, hitting them in a perfect rhythm, perfect melody.

Other people approached, drawn by the sound, and Jordan looked at the crowd curiously. Most of them looked normal, like him and Brandon, but here and there he noticed a slight abnormality... a person with pointed ears, odd coloring, or something amiss that he just couldn't place. He could have sworn he saw a tail of some sort poking out of a person's pant leg.

So Keith didn't create another world for just humans to inhabit. There were other creatures here as well. So the creature that attacked Leia could easily be here too... could have come from here. Christ, how long had this place existed before they found out about it?

The woman finished her performance, drawing applause and cheering from the crowd. She beamed as they left coins piled up in a small clay jar sitting nearby.

Brandon, awe and anxiety making his chest heavy, approached with nervous feet, giving her an uncertain glance. The woman took her jar and placed it on the ground inside her booth, then glanced up at him and smiled.

"Hello," she said. Her voice was low and husky, sexy like smoke.

"Hi," Brandon said, coming closer. "That was beautiful."

"Thank you." She leaned on the front of the booth and gave him a curious look. "Do you like them?" she asked, glancing up at the bells lining the top of the booth, and ran a finger over some of them. The bells around her wrists chimed gently with the music, sweet sounding. "We make them. Custom designed to you specifications. If you need something special, for a wedding or celebration..."

"How long have you been playing them?" Brandon asked. She arched an eyebrow, either surprised or annoyed by his change of subject during her sales pitch.

"All my life," she answered, then leaned forward again. "You're kinda cute, you know. Are you from around here? I know this village pretty well, but you are an unfamiliar face."

"You're not," Brandon said, somewhat dreamily. He extended a shaky hand, reached out as if to touch her hair. She gave him an alarmed look and jerked herself back out of his reach. Brandon felt something hard and tight around his wrist and turned to see Jordan with his hand locked around his wrist, pulling his arm back and down.

"Thank you," Jordan said. The girl gave him another suspicious look and nodded slightly, turning away from them. Jordan pulled Brandon away from the booth, making sure they were out of earshot and out of the way of wandering villagers before turning on him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Jordan exclaimed.

"I just-I just wanted to touch her," Brandon said.

"You don't just go around touching random people!"

"I Created her," Brandon said. Jordan felt whatever words he was about to say leave him. "I just can't believe she is real," Brandon continued.

"You created her?"

"Last year. I drew her for a project. Green hair and eyes. Playing those damn bells, even."

Jordan raised his eyebrows. "Are you for real?"

Brandon nodded. "Yeah." He was shaking slightly, and try as he might, he couldn't stop. "I made her."

"Calm down."

"I can't. I-I just...I made her. I wanted to touch her." Brandon pressed a hand over his eyes. "You said we didn't play God."

"We don't. Brandon, she might not even be aware that she was created by you."

"I know. I'm just freaked."

Jordan smiled. "It's a trip, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Brandon said and gave him a smile that was almost steady. "I mean, believing you about Creating and stuff is one thing but to see something that you drew... I guess it's just a little bit over my head right now."

"I think a lot of things are over our heads right now," Jordan said. Brandon spared another glance over his shoulder at the green haired lady and her instruments of choice. "You can say that again."

"Okay," Salvo said. "Here is the deal. I can get one of you, and only one of you, into the castle. That's all."

"Why one?" Brandon asked.

"I can pass one of you off as an apprentice. But sending in two of you will be too suspicious, since I only own a modest shop. I'm going to give you a simple mix of herbs to administer to the Queen. It won't do anything except maybe make her a little sleepy and it won't hurt the baby. I've given it to plenty of expectant mothers."

"So she's definitely pregnant?" Brandon asked. Salvo gave him a suspicious look.

"For wanting to see her so badly, you seem to be a little bit in the dark regarding some pertinent facts. She's due to give birth soon."

"We are aware that she is expecting," Jordan said. "So the herbs will just make her tired? Then why are we giving them to her?"

"To get inside the palace. The Queen suffers severe headaches, so you can try to pass this off as a remedy. This will get you inside and maybe get a good look at the Queen. Her court probably won't let you get within striking distance and I doubt you'll be able to speak to her like you would want to. I can guarantee it won't be private. This is all I can do for you. I have no sway inside the court."

"Thank you," Brandon said, his tone genuine. "Your help is invaluable, especially considering we are strangers to you."

Salvo inclined his head slightly. "We give all we have to ensure no harm befalls our Queen. And I trust Dathilda, and she obviously trusted you. And if you do try to hurt her, the court will strike you down. So I send you in with a clear conscience."

Jordan led Brandon away from Salvo before turning to him thoughtfully. "Bran, I think it would be best-"

"No. Jordan, no, I need to see her."

"And you will. But-"

"Jordan, she knows me."

"Yes. And that's the reason I should go. She would be less likely to recognize me. If you go, she might be likely to give something away, and from what I am hearing about her 'court', it sounds like the less conspicuous we are, the better off we will all be, herself included. Besides, Brandon, you don't think clearly when it comes to her. I think seeing Leia again might be too much for you."

"She is not going to know you the way she knows me."

"Yes, and that is my point. She's not supposed to recognize us. We are going in undercover. Brandon, think about it. She is in the middle of a palace. She is playing the role of a Queen. We just can't waltz in, grab her and waltz out. We need to get inside, figure out what is going on and get a plan together. And while we do that, we need to keep a low profile. She won't recognize me as easily as she would you. That's important right now." Jordan reached out and gripped his hand. "I'll let you know how she is doing and I'll find a way for you to get into the castle. I swear. But you've got to let me get in there first. I can be more objective than you can in this case Bran. And that's what we need right now."

Damn it all, he was right and they both knew it, but it was so hard to let Jordan go. Because Brandon wanted to see Leia. Needed to see Leia, to see her with his own two eyes, to settle himself, to calm the uncertainty that had been raging in his mind ever since Jordan told him she might still be alive.

"Fine," Brandon finally admitted. "But be quick, baby, I don't know how much waiting I can stand."

“I know,” Jordan said. “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful, and as soon as I can figure out what we need to do, I’ll come and get you, okay?”

“Okay.” Brandon gripped Jordan’s hand and he glanced up. Seeing that Salvo had gone elsewhere, he allowed himself to lean forward and kiss Jordan briefly. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“You’re welcome.”

Salvo was going to leave the following morning. He was able to prepare the mix of herbs fairly quickly, but it was a full day's ride to the Eastern Palace, which was where the Queen resided, and back, and it was too late in the day to start out now.

Jordan and Brandon spent the night on a small cot tucked into the back of the shop. They didn’t do anything but lay there, holding hands and talking softly, occasionally kissing. Brandon was a little tempted to do more, especially since he knew Jordan would be gone the next day, but he didn't try because Salvo was sleeping right above them and it would have felt too weird trying to do anything in that strange, stinking shop.

"I'm worried," Brandon admitted.

"Don't be," Jordan said. "This will be easy for me." Jordan kissed him.

Brandon sighed. "I was thinking about my family earlier. I bet my mom is worried sick right now."

"Did you tell anyone about what we were doing?"

"Nuh-uh. The only clue I gave was to Kelly... I told her that I would miss her, and when she asked me where I was going, I told her I didn't know."

"They probably think we ran away together."

"Isn't that kind of what we did?"

"I guess. You're right." Jordan kissed his hand, wanting to just be able to touch for a minute. "I left Dylan a note. It was vague and unspecific, but I didn't want him to think I was leaving because of stuff he said or anything. I-" Jordan's throat felt heavy and clogged up. "I was the last family he had."

"I know," Brandon said. "Don't worry, you'll see him again. Besides, you left without taking any money or clothes with you. That might make him think you'll be coming back."

"I hope so." Jordan closed his eyes, feeling tired. "I wish I hadn't left while we were still on such awkward terms."

Brandon sighed. He didn't know what to say. His family had never showed even the slightest hint of being anything but accepting and supportive of his sexuality. But he could vividly remember how nervous he felt when he was getting ready to tell them he was gay, so scared they would reject him. And he hated that Jordan had to deal with that, even a little bit.

So he just pulled Jordan close to him, kissed the top of his head, stroked his hair and neck, comforting both of them until Jordan fell asleep.