The Beatton HQ
1475 Words
As Jesse said, the Beatton HQ is a full-fledged, bustling town nestled in the plush, green hillsides on the outskirts of the forest we’ve just emerged from.
In Earth-terms, the best way I can think of to describe it is that it reminds me of an old, German town. I’ve never actually been to Germany, but I’ve planned many trips to Europe—trips Hunter would promise me on a good day that we could take, then just as quickly revoke when it came to actually purchasing the tickets.
He was always fine with traveling without me, mind you. He just didn’t want me to see the world—didn’t want me to know what I was missing out on.
The largest building is one of the first we stumble upon, and I can tell from the soldiers stationed out front that it must be the fort I saw in my dream.
“Burns,” Jesse greets with an easy nod to the soldier at the door as he dismounts his horse. “We were sent ahead by Lord Lyons to get Mistress Davis here to safety.”
The soldier glances up at me, then raises his eyebrows and quickly bows his head. “Mistress,” he greets respectfully. “Welcome to the HQ.”
Jesse gives him a playful shove. “Thank you, Burns. But she doesn’t speak Shiftran. Can you send for Matilda to secure one of the cottages for her? She can meet us at the stables—we’ll get our horses settled.”
I wasn’t expecting Jesse to have quite this much commanding power, but the Burns boy seems more than willing to obey his every command. He scampers off toward the town center while Jesse gestures for us to follow him toward the stables.
“Good lad,” Briggs tells me, nodding in the direction Burns went. “Scared shitless of us, mind you. Most of the boys are.”
Symone rolls her eyes. “He’s exaggerating.”
“Most of the Shifters in the general ranks,” Ollie explains to me, “they’re dogs, horses, foxes… You know, less fearsome animals.”
“You mean each Shifter can only turn into one animal?”
Briggs looks amused. “I guess we skipped over that part. What’d you think—that we had an unlimited supply of options?”
I shrug. I guess I hadn’t given it much thought. “Something like that.”
“Well, we don’t,” Symone says shortly. “It’s one animal per Shifter.”
“Well, who’s what, then? Obviously Jesse’s a wolf, but what about the rest of you?”
“I was getting to it!” Ollie grumbles. “Briggs is an ox. Symone is a jaguar. And me… well, I’m a falcon. Fast and deadly.” He winks at me for good measure.
“Right.” I won’t lie—I’m impressed. “Makes sense that they’re all scared of you.”
“Enough bragging,” scolds Jesse in amusement as we close in on the stables. “We’re here, and Echo isn’t supposed to be able to speak our language.”
I shut my mouth just in time for a stable boy to rush up to me to take Apollo. I wave a hand at him, shaking my head and motioning for him to point me in the direction of the nearest available stall. It takes him a second to decipher my non-sign language, but finally he nods and gestures to an empty stall nearby.
I ignore the quizzical looks from my companions as I bring Apollo to the stall, untack him, and then lead him to washrack to bathe him.
“They have people for that here,” Symone tells me when the stable boy has safely wandered off. “There’s no need.”
I glance into the stall next to us, which houses an underfed, mangy pony who’s covered in fungus. “Great job they’re doing,” I mutter under my breath as I reach for a sponge and plunge it into the nearest trough of water.
By the time I’ve finished sponging away Apollo’s sweat stains and wrapping his legs with the closest thing to pillow wraps I could find, I’ve drummed up a full audience consisting of Jesse, Briggs, Ollie, Symone, the stable boy, and the well-dressed, middle-aged woman I assume is Matilda.
“What are the wraps for?” Jesse asks me in a new language as I lead Apollo back to his stall.
I’m surprised he’s risking talking to me in any language, but I do recall him mentioning I could speak a few words of Signa, so I pretend to struggle with it. “Reduces… how you say… swelling.”
Jesse looks impressed, which makes it totally worth the risk of speaking, in my opinion.
“Well?” Matilda asks him in Shiftran. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” Jesse says dismissively. “Just trying to get her brushed up on her Signa so we can better communicate with her. Shall we make the introductions?”
Matilda looks displeased by his answer, but nods, turning to face me. She speaks slowly and loudly, as if that might help me understand a language I can't understand. “I,” she says, gesturing to herself, “am Matilda Bankley. My husband is the groundskeeper here.” She gestures all around her, which I guess is supposed to imply groundskeeper. “I’ve been sent to get you settled into a new—temporary—home.” She pinches her fingers together as if to imply a very small amount of time.
I smile stupidly at her and gesture to myself. “Echo,” I say, doing my best to throw what my brain knows of an Old Vitalian accent onto it. “Pleasure,” I add in Old Vitalian, even though she won’t know what it means.
“Well,” Matilda says, straightening. She glances at the others. “Say your goodbyes. I’ll take her on her way.”
Instantly, I feel a wave of panic take hold of me. I knew from the moment a cottage was mentioned that we’d have to split up, but how long am I going to have to be apart from them?
“We’ll see you at the feast tomorrow night,” Jesse tells me in Signa, as if reading my mind.
“Tomorrow?” It’s too far away. Having spent every second of my time so far in Vitalia with them, I’m not okay with waiting over twenty-four hours to see them again. “Tonight. Dinner.” I try to keep my phrases short and choppy.
Jesse frowns, glancing at Matilda. “Does she have a staff? At the house?”
A staff? As in, servants?
Matilda nods. “A cook and a housemaid, naturally. Why?”
“She wants to… thank us. For escorting her safely here. Can you give her cook a heads-up?”
I part my lips to object—a cook and a servant are the last two things I want—but a sharp look from Jesse instantly silences me; I’m not supposed to understand what they’re saying, after all.
I pout, but say nothing.
“Very well,” Matilda says with a shrug. “But make sure she knows she isn’t to go visiting you at the fort. It’s no place for a woman of means.”
I try to shoot an apologetic glance in Symone’s direction at that, but she’s already turned to leave.
- - - - -
The cottage is pretty nice, considering the fact that I have no money or skills to offer them in exchange. It’s got a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and living/dining room, and its walls are made of a rich, mahogany wood—almost like a little log cabin. There’s no air conditioning, of course, but I saw that one coming; and anyway, the temperature here is actually fairly comfortable.
I hear Matilda give my cook the instructions about dinner tonight, then a few additional instructions to my housemaid. Finally, she saunters back over to me and offers me an icy smile.
“My husband and I live at Pembrook Manor,” she tells me in that same, slow drawl as she gestures behind her and to the left. “Just a few houses down. The big one.” She mimes a large house on big, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
“Thank you,” I say shortly in Old Vitalian.
That much, to my surprise, she does understand; “You’re welcome,” she says in the same language before departing.
Right, I think as I offer my housemaid a weak smile and take a seat on the nearest available chair.
I guess this is my life now.
- Writer
