Heretical Fishing

Book 2: Chapter 64: Determination

Book 2: Chapter 64: Determination

The room I woke up in was so cold that I couldn’t feel my face. I shimmied further under the covers, and when I felt Maria’s warmth at my side, a wave of endorphins coursed through me. With my stomach fluttering, I rolled to my side and put an arm around her, running my hands through her long fur.

... Long fur?

I opened my eyes to see a Golden Retriever grinning at me with complete contentedness, his eyes half-lidded with sleep.

“Good morning, Borks,” I said, laughing softly.

He licked my neck and let out a rather cute noise, his whiskers tickling the underside of my chin. As my brain slowly woke up, I recalled the events of last night. Maria and I had made fried fish for dinner and cuddled by the campfire, but she hadn’t spent the night. Given that Roger was still coming to terms with the news that we were all cultivators—and that the bloke his daughter was in a relationship with was also the deity of a cult… er, church—I had walked her home.

Settling for the next best thing to Maria, I pulled Borks in for a cuddle. He rested his head in the crook of my neck, his wagging tail thumping against the bed and blanket. I felt the urge to go see Maria. Perhaps I could bring Roger a coffee and croissant as a peace offering... but no. We’d agreed that I should give him space for now.

“I think it might be just you and me this morning, buddy,” I said, scratching Borks behind the ear.

His tail wagged even harder, and he rolled onto his back, wiggling in excitement and kicking the blankets off. I rolled out of bed, raising my hands toward the sky as I let out a noise and stretched.

“All right—let’s go sort out some brekkie, shall we?”

He barked, got to his feet, and leaped from the bed, heading for the door as I opened it.

***

Maria stirred, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets.

The first thought that came to her was of Fischer. She grabbed a pillow, hugging it tight as butterflies rose in her stomach. A knock came at the door.

“Come in!” she called, squeezing the pillow as if it was the man she loved.

Sharon opened the door and stepped inside. She sat beside her on the bed, and when Maria saw her sleepless face, she reached out to put a hand on her mother’s leg.

“Everything okay?”

Sharon smiled, but her eyes were so, so tired.

“I’m fine. Your father and I spent most of the night talking. We’re going to get some breakfast and coffee, and I was wondering if you wanted to come.”

“Of course,” she replied, stretching. “I’ll just get dressed.”

With her pajamas replaced by workwear, Maria stepped outside to find her parents waiting. Her father sat on the porch, staring out toward the fields. Her mother was at his side, her head resting on his shoulder.

That’s a good sign, she thought.

When Fischer walked her home last night, they’d found her parents sitting outside, but there was a physical distance between them. Her dad’s body had stiffened when he saw Fischer, so after planting a quick kiss on her cheek, Fischer left. As she thought of that kiss, that small touch, her thoughts were drawn to other memories. Her face grew hot, and she shook her head, coming back to the present.

“Are you both ready?” she asked, hopping down from the porch and giving them a smile that they both returned, if a little half-hearted.

“Is anyone else coming?” her father asked, giving her a pointed look.

Maria rolled her eyes.

“No, dad. Fischer isn’t coming. He’s giving you space, lest you try and attack him with your favorite scythe.”

Roger snorted.

“I may as well swing at the sun for all the good it would do me.”

It was the first time she’d heard him make a joke since yesterday, and though it held a hint of bitterness, it left her feeling at ease. Her mother darted a quick look toward her, raising an eyebrow. They both smiled, and as a family, they left for Sue’s bakery.

***

With Borks at my side and the sun at my back, I couldn’t help but smile as I walked through the streets of Tropica. My furred companion felt the same, his tail wagging as he looked at the passing faces, even veering off towards children to let them have a good pat of his soft coat.

When we reached Sue’s, the smell of coffee urged me on, but the man I came face to face with brought me up short. We blinked at each other, and I opened my mouth to say something, then closed it again.

“Fischer,” Roger said, his tone lacking any inflection.

“G’day, Roger. How are ya, mate?”

He shrugged, his eyes tired.

“Been better. Been worse.”

“Yeah...” I replied, searching for the words to say. The ladies saved me.

“Good morning, Fischer!” Sharon said, coming to his side.

I beamed at her as Borks stepped forward to sniff her leg and receive a pat. Then, she appeared. Like a ray of sunshine, Maria came from the counter and passed the tray of coffee and croissants to her mother.

“Can you give us a moment? I’ll catch up.”

Roger’s jaw worked, but he nodded, and I bid them goodbye. The second they disappeared around a corner, Maria threw her arms around my neck. The kiss consumed me as she pressed her lips to mine. A painfully short second later, it was over.

“I love you.” She squeezed my arm. “I’ll come see you later, okay?”

“I love you too,” I whispered back. “And please do.”

She jogged away, her hair bouncing as she glanced back, waving over her shoulder. I stared after her as she went, going around the same corner her parents had. Gods, she was beautiful.

Someone cleared their throat behind me, and I spun.

“Well, well, well,” Theo said, smirking at me. “The great Fischer, staring after an innocent young woman with lecherous intent. I never thought I’d see the day...”

“Innocent?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “I have it on good authority that she has entered a formal relationship with a...” I leaned in, darting my eyes from side to side as if to check the coast was clear. “With a heretic!” I hissed, my eyebrow still raised.

“A formal relationship? With a heretic?” he gasped. “I dare say you’re correct, dear Fischer. She must be of questionable morality to choose such a partner. A shame, for someone of such ample proportions as she.”

I squinted at him, pouting at his description. He returned the look.

“... too far?”

We both burst into laughter, and I shook my head at him.

“You caught me off guard with that one.”

“Says you—the king of saying wild things.” He let out a sigh. “Gods, I needed that laugh. I take it that things went well with your conversation yesterday? You both seemed happy when you were swimming.”

I smiled, remembering the day gone.

“It did, mate.” I slung an arm around his shoulder. “C’mon. I’ll buy us breakfast and tell you all about it.”

He gasped again, pulling away and staring at me with shock.

“Fischer! You would besmirch a lady’s good name by recounting your endeavors? For shame, I say.”

I leveled a glare at him.

“I’ll tell you all about our conversation, you pest.”

He threw his head back and laughed again, loud and free.

“I can’t, I’m afraid. I have to do something back at the church today.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Something to do, huh? That wouldn’t have anything to do with Barry getting up to some shenanigans, would it?”

He froze, shooting a glance at me.

“You’re sure you want to know about that?”

“You tell me, mate.”

He considered for a moment, then shrugged.

“I think you’d want to know. You can make use of it, after all. But you should probably talk to Barry about it.”

“Make use of it...?” I asked, but he was already walking away.

“Gotta go!” he called over his shoulder. “Bye, Fischer!”

I waved goodbye with one hand as I rubbed my chin with the other.

“What could he have made that I could make use of...?”

I shrugged, shook my head at myself, and spun. I had more important things to take care of.

“Morning, Sue,” I called, beaming a smile at her and the smell of coffee in the air.

***

Maria’s mouth became dryer with each step toward their destination. Her mother had pulled her aside on the way home from Sue’s and told her the plan. It was exciting, hope-inducing, and, most of all, terrifying. She swirled the last bit of coffee in her cup, then drank it down. Her mouth remained dry.

She glanced to the side. Though for different reasons, both of her parents walked with hesitant steps. Her mother was shooting looks at her father, while the latter’s eyes pinned on the shed they approached. Maria, wanting to get this over as soon as possible, darted forward. She grabbed the handle, looked down for a moment, then steeled her nerves and pulled it open.

The room beyond was lit by magical light, and as Roger caught sight of it, his step faltered. He gazed at the inside of the door, taking in its rich gilding.

“Dear...?” Sharon asked.

He grit his jaw, let out a slow, steady breath, and stepped inside. Sharon was at his side, slipping an arm through his. Maria followed them in, closing the door behind herself. She joined them at the top of the stairs, shooting a furtive glance toward her father for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He stared at the descending steps, his face a wash of conflicting emotions that reminded Maria of the look he’d had while they ate their breakfast.

“Is it all true?” he’d asked her.

“Is what true, dad?”

“Everything your mother has told me. Fischer. The church. The building. The... the animals.”

Her mother, rather than be annoyed at the question, had looked at Maria patiently. The answer was simple, so she had given it to him.

“Yes, dad. It’s all true, and even if I didn’t know it for sure, I’d trust mom to tell me the truth—as should you.”

She shook her head, returning to the present.

“We don’t have to go down if you don’t want to,” her mother said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “We can come back another time—whenever you’re ready.”

He flexed his hands, stretched his neck from side to side, and began the descent. The way was lit, and as they passed each sconce, he would stare into the magical flames. When they approached the landing, he stopped caring about the flames—voices could be heard, and they echoed off the walls toward them. The door to the meeting room was open, which was where the conversation was coming from. Maria dashed forward and leaned her head in.

“Everyone—dad’s here!”

She glanced back, her heart breaking at the look of resignation on her father’s face.

“It’s fine, dad,” she whispered, giving him a genuine smile. “There are some people who want to meet you.”

Roger nodded and stepped forward, entering the doorway. Her mother’s jaw was tight, so Maria grabbed her hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“G’day, mate! It’s nice to meet you!” Theo said, leaning over a map. “I’m Theo. This is Ellis, Danny, Peter, and Keith.”

“Roger,” he replied tersely.

“We’ve heard all about you, mate,” Theo continued. “I’m glad you’re finally coming into the fold, as it were—I’m sure we’re better off with you here.”

“I’m not so sure I’ll be joining you. I just came to have a look around.”

“Oh. Right.” Theo shrugged. “Well, that’s totally fine. Want me to go get Barry so he can show you the ropes? He’s with Fergus down at the smithy.”

“... the smithy?” Roger asked, his brow furrowing.

“Yeah!” Theo pointed in its direction. “Up there, on the left.”

“The smithy?” Sharon repeated in a whisper, glancing at Maria.

Maria shrugged. She had no idea either.

“Right...” Roger said. “Well, I’ll be heading on, then. It was nice to meet—”

“Oh!” Theo interrupted, snapping his fingers. “I just remembered. I was supposed to give you something.”

Maria caught the hint of a grin playing on Theo’s features, and she watched him closely as he bent down and picked up a... was that a present? The wooden box was held shut by a deep red ribbon that ended in a bow. Theo strode forward, smiling in an entirely too-happy manner, and held it out. Roger, not knowing what else to do, accepted it.

“Erm. Thank you...”

“No worries, mate! Best you open it now.”

Roger glanced back at Maria and Sharon, who both shrugged. With a fierce scowl on his face, Roger undid the bow. He put a hand to the lid, hesitated, then lifted it up. It was filled with colorful cuts of cloth. Blinking, Roger put his hand into the makeshift-confetti. His scowl deepened as he took hold of something, and he lifted it up. Corporal Claws grinned at him, revealing her needle-sharp teeth as she chirped a greeting. There was a bow on her head in the same color as the ribbon.

Roger dropped both the box and the otter, taking a step back.

“Theo!” Sharon chided, grabbing Roger by the arm. “We’re supposed to be introducing my husband to the animals! Not playing cheap jokes!”

Theo held his hands up in surrender as he looked between Claws, Roger, and Sharon.

“Sorry, mate—it was out of my hands. Corporal Claws here wanted to make a good first impression, and you ignore her whims at your own peril. I was too busy to scratch her one day, and I’ve been finding piles of sand in my bed ever since. Don’t look at me like that Claws, of course I knew it was you, you little terror! Who else would be putting sand in my sheets?”

“Corporal Claws...” Roger said, his voice hesitant.

Claws whirled, chirping in the affirmative and giving him another grin. Movement at the other end of the room caught their attention, and a seething mass of creatures climbed up to peek over the table. Sergeant Snips, waving a happy clacker, bubbled a greeting. Pistachio nodded a single time, so slight as to be almost imperceptible. Rocky made a rude gesture, and was swiftly smacked from sight by Snips, hitting the floor so hard that the entire room shook. Bill hopped up, letting out a honk and flapping his mighty wings to escape the weaponized crustacean. Cinnamon leaped all the way onto their side of the table, landing silently and sniffing at the air toward Roger.

“You’ve been told their names?” Theo asked.

Roger nodded, his jaw hanging so low that Maria worried it might fall off.

“Well, that makes things easier. Everyone, this is Roger. Roger, this is the gang—those that Fischer calls his animal pals. The only one we’re missing is Brigadier Borks, but you can meet him later.”

Roger stared, his body stiff as a board. He pressed his lips together and lines formed around his eyes. Sharon stepped forward, placing a hand in the center of his back. It did nothing to quell the emotions warring on his face.

“I need to speak with Fischer,” he said.

Sharon took a half-step closer. “Dear...?”

“Fischer,” he repeated. “Barry, too.”

When he turned toward them, any shock or fear was long gone. All that remained was an icy determination. Though she’d only seen it a few times in her life, Maria recognized the look. It made the breath catch in her throat. She swallowed.

“I-I can go get them—”

“No.” His voice was iron, his visage emotionless. “I need to speak with them alone. Get Barry. He can take me to... him.”

“Please, dad. I—”

“Barry, Maria. Get him.”

She had seen her father angry before. Furious, even. The vitriol in his eyes was something new, and though it wasn’t directed at her, she felt herself shrink beneath it.

His lip twitched at her inaction.

“Now,” he growled.

She nodded wordlessly, backing from the room before running down the hallway toward the smithy.