Chapter Four

The eat-in kitchen was far more modern than Himesh had expected. Even so, with instruments that almost seemed to prepare the food for you, Kiefer seemed to get more food on the floor and counters--and sometimes even walls--than anywhere else.

Himesh watched him struggle with a can opener for a few amusing minutes before taking mercy on him and relieving him of the instrument. "Sit down already," the young man told Kiefer. "Before you hurt yourself."

Kiefer quickly overcame the surprise of Himesh's offer--or was it the surprise of the young man's first spoken words since reaching the kitchen?--and gladly took a seat at the kitchen island. He watched as Himesh easily--if not quite expertly--finished preparing the meal, even while tidying the mess that had already been created. By the time that Tuwa walked in the kitchen looked something close to presentable, and the smell that wafted through the air suggested that lunch was almost done cooking.

The young woman glanced around at the kitchen--not ruined--sniffed the aroma of food--not burned--and looked to Kiefer--not bragging--and came to the only conclusion that was possible. "Himesh, you can cook?"

"I can get by," Himesh responded, though his gaze stayed on the island's countertop directly in front of where he sat.

"Hell," Tuwa said gladly, "that's more than most of the men in this place can say." She took a seat at the island with Kiefer and Himesh, eyed up the two young men, and decided to speak up before Kiefer did. "Bahlol wants me to go to Puck's Market to pick up a few things," she said. As Kiefer opened his mouth to respond, Tuwa quickly added, "And he wants me to bring Himesh along."

Kiefer, who was usually the one forced into accompanying Tuwa on trips to the Market, grinned at the news. On the other hand Himesh, who had never even heard of Puck's Market before, had the common sense to look a little apprehensive about the idea.

"What's Puck's Market?"

"Pretty well what it sounds like," Tuwa responded, cutting off Kiefer who seemed far too eager to explain. "It's a market, where you can buy, sell, or trade pretty well anything. It's pretty handy for getting things that you can't typically find in a conventional store. And sometimes you might find a real treasure of a piece. Luck plays a big part in it, of course. But when Bahlol says it's a good day to go to the Market, you can pretty well bet your bottom dollar that you're going to find a deal."

"What she isn't mentioning," Kiefer spoke up as soon as Tuwa paused, "is the sorts of people--if you can call them that--that you're bound to run into there." He flashed Himesh a grin, not meant to be reassuring at all. "It takes all sorts to make up Puck's Market, otherwise it would be just another convenience store. Why last time we went there was--"

"Kiefer. . . ." Tuwa uninterrupted meaningfully, a growl in her tone.

"--this huge row between--"

"Kiefer!"

"--this one fiend and a whole score of hobs."

Tuwa's growl deepened, and she looked ready to throttle Kiefer.

The young man flinched slightly when he saw her ready to kill expression. "Actually, you know," he said quickly, "I'm not really hungry right now." As he spoke he slipped from his stool at the island, hands held before him defensively. "I'll just come back for leftovers later, a'right?"

"Good plan," Tuwa replied through clenched teeth.

Kiefer beat a hasty retreat, waggling his fingers over his shoulder in farewell as the kitchen's door swung closed behind him. Himesh watched him leave, and watched the swinging door until it stood still once again. When he finally couldn't delay it any longer, he looked to Tuwa with an expression that mingled worry with confusion. "I can't say that I really know what a fiend or a hob are," he said, "and I don't know anything about this Puck's Market of yours, but I'm pretty sure I don't want to go."

Offering him a small, understanding smile Tuwa responded, "I was pretty sure you wouldn't want to, but Bahlol insisted." She shrugged, a small, helpless motion. "I'm afraid that sometimes there's just no reasoning with him. The Market's really not that bad. Give it a shot, at least."

Himesh frowned. "This is some sort of test or something, isn't it?"

Tuwa shifted uncomfortably; the young man was more perceptive than she had previously given him credit for. "You could call it that," she admitted slowly. "But it's a simple one, really. I'm sure you can handle--" She stopped speaking as Himesh stood suddenly.

"Don't let your lunch burn," he stated simply as he walked away, heading for the door. "I've lost my appetite."

"Wait," Tuwa exclaimed, moving to rush after him but then thinking better of it. "Himesh, you have to come to the Market. If you don't, Bahlol isn't going to let you stay here."

Himesh paused, his hand on the door. "Maybe I don't want to stay."

Without another word he left, letting the kitchen door swing closed behind him. Tuwa watched it close. She considered going after the young man and trying to change his mind, but decided against it and instead returned to her seat at the island. If Himesh refused to even give the Market a shot, then he probably didn't belong at the manor. . . .

Himesh was glad that he hadn't unpacked. It meant that he didn't have to worry about repacking all his things; he'd had enough trouble with it the first time around.

He pushed open the door to his room and kicked it shut behind him, paying more attention to the floor at his feet than his surroundings. He was busily wondering if he'd be given any trouble about getting out of the walled-in manor as he finally looked up, seeking out his backpack and scattered shoes that had been left behind when Kiefer had dragged him out of the room earlier.

He was understandably surprised to find a man sitting cross-legged on the bed.

Himesh's first instinct was to tense, ready for anything. He wondered, vaguely, if he had come into the wrong room, but his backpack and shoes were right where he had left them so he was surely in the right place.

For a long few moments neither of them moved. Himesh was considering simply grabbing his things and leaving without a word when the man finally moved, unfolding his long legs and standing, stretching out his back as though he had been sitting waiting for some time now.

Himesh couldn't help but stare. And it wasn't just because the man's hair was an impossible shade that had to have come from a bottle. There was simply something about the way the man moved that suggested an immense amount of confidence and control--two things that Himesh had often wished that he himself possessed. The young man stood and watched as his strange visitor leisurely straightened his clothing, and something in the back of Himesh's mind told him that there was only one person that this man could be.

The stranger, satisfied again with his appearance, finally looked to Himesh with a small, unreadable grin. "My apologies for appearing here uninvited," the man said, his tone quiet and unassuming, "but I figured that it was high time we met, seeing as that you've already been introduced to the rest of our little ragtag group." The man nodded, a small show of greeting. "I'm Bahlol."

"Uh. . . ." Himesh responded.

The other man's grin grew slightly, amused. "And you're Himesh, of course. No need for an introduction."

"Right," the young man muttered. Before he could think himself out of it Himesh stepped further into the room, stooping to grab his backpack. His shoes, however, were a little closer to Bahlol than he was willing to get at the moment. He delayed their retrieval by shouldering his backpack, trying to find a comfortable position for it.

Bahlol's small grin turned to a smaller frown. "You're not leaving, are you?"

"I don't think it's a good idea for me to stay here," Himesh replied, knowing that he had to say something. He shifted as the other man's gaze lingered uncomfortably.

"Tuwa said you might refuse to go to Puck's Market," Bahlol said easily. With a shrug he continued, "It's your choice of course. You can leave any time you wish."

Himesh felt slightly relieved by the other man's words. He moved again, further into the room, slipping on first one shoe and then the other. He was at the door with his hand on the knob before Bahlol's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"I feel I ought to warn you," the man said lazily, "that Aodhfin is far from pleased with your disappearance last night. And his goons know exactly where to find you. You can blame Kiefer for that; he said far more than he should have while saving you from Boyle. If you step off this property on your own, you won't get more than a few steps." He paused, watching Himesh's back for any signs that his words were making an impression; it was easy to see that the young man didn't much like the idea of being beset by Aodhfin's men. "When it comes to Aodhfin, I assure you that Puck's Market is tame by comparison."

X X X

Tuwa was surprised when Himesh sulked into the kitchen and took a seat at the island. Though it was tempting to speak up she held her tongue, instead returning her attention to finishing off her lunch.

"So. . . ." Himesh said slowly when the silence had lingered on long enough, "where's this Market, anyway?"

Tuwa paused, fork half way to her mouth. She set the utensil back down before responding. "Mislay Forest."

Himesh, chin in hand, frowned at the information. "Never heard of it."

"I would have been surprised if you had," Tuwa replied with a small smile. "Though I'm sure you'll recognize the area when we get there. You are coming along, aren't you?"

The young man nodded slightly, though his frown was still firmly in place.

"That's good," Tuwa said with a genuine smile. "I'm glad you decided to give it a try; I really thought that you were just going to walk out." She paused, casting Himesh a searching glance. "If you don't mind my asking, what changed your mind?"

He shifted uncertainly, and considered just not answering. But then, he decided, so far his silence hadn't really gotten him anywhere. With a sigh he responded, "Bahlol can be awfully convincing."

For a moment Tuwa didn't respond, only eyed the young man carefully, perhaps wondering just how convincing Bahlol had had to be. "Yes," she finally replied with a small grin, "that he can be."