The Hammer Unfalls

4.64 Sliding Scale

⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅

Warm flutters and unchecked panic had wrestled in his belly all morning. He’d run out of time to decide between them, because the dining hall loomed mere steps away.

As had become normal since his return—though it still felt weird to Glim—others joined him at the breakfast table. Or, to be more correct, Glim sat among them instead of in a corner. Some invisible wall had fallen away.

Could he put it back? Because Pyri and Gyda had just walked in.

Glim looked at his bowl of bland oatmeal. He looked at the banners hanging from the rafters. He looked at a kid telling some story about a farting goat, and tried to summon up a laugh. His eyes managed to take in every inch of Wohn-Grab’s dining hall except for the area currently inhabited by the merchant’s daughters, who drew closer to the table with every moment. Amazing that Glim could manage to studiously ignore Gyda’s presence yet be keenly aware of her at the same time.

He hadn’t meant to kiss her, or be kissed by her, or whatever the hell that was yesterday. He’d been thinking about moss. The next thing he knew, her lips and his had found each other. The only question remaining: what would happen now, when she realized her mistake?

That answer came in the form of soft linen and lightly scented hair that somehow managed to find a seat right next to him. Since Pyri was across the table taking control of the conversation, that left only one possibility. The snare had tightened. Nowhere left to run.

Glim turned to see Gyda looking at him with sparkling eyes.

“Sleep well?” he stammered, in one of the most brilliant conversational gambits the world had ever witnessed.

“Better than you, I’m guessing,” she laughed, plucking a bit of lichen from his hair, kissing his cheek as she did so, and tucking the moss behind her own ear.

Suddenly the story about the farting goat became the most amusing tale Glim had ever heard. The oatmeal tasted sublime. His hand found hers beneath the table and held it. The sound of her voice and her warm presence next to him consumed Glim’s thoughts.

Breakfast ended far too quickly. Glim followed the others from the dining hall, wondering what to do next. But one kiss does not erase seventeen years of routine. Gyda went her way with a wave, and Glim went his. He watched her go with a mixture of relief, elation, and regret at the parting.

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Glim had a couple hours before his lesson, and no chores to do. He felt keyed up and needed a distraction from ruminating about Gyda, so he headed to ‘his’ Elderkin chamber. As he took the stairs deeper below the stone walls, past brass pipes and valves, he felt a pang of sadness. Such visits were bittersweet to him now. Studying the relics and instruments below Wohn-Grab gave his mind something to occupy itself, and relaxed him. But the chamber also reminded him of Ryn. Every time he found a hidden panel, he remembered where he’d learned the trick. Ryn handing him blankets from the wall, or laughing when the water had sprayed him.

The labyrinthine maze of pipes had started to make sense to Glim over the years. He had yet to discover the purpose for some, but the main ones had a logic to them he could grasp. Drain pipes, steam pipes, and liquid delivery pipes had different purposes and details. Steam release valves, for example, or drain plugs. He’d learned early on that testing the various plugs and drain pipes helped; he’d often been met with sludge surely older than himself, with noxious smells that filled the room when the black goo splattered onto the floor. He always had a bucket on hand after learning that lesson.

Some of the valves and dials, which he strongly suspected needed to be opened or adjusted, would not budge. At first he’d tried oil to loosen them, or brute force.

For the first time, Glim noticed a pattern of indentations on a wall panel. He looked further and noticed a faint circle etched into the wall around them. Of course! He needed to rotate the divots to line up with the marks around them. But how?

Glim opened a panel and studied the tools within. He pulled out various handles with prongs and tried to fit them into the wall, but none of them fit. He checked the cabinets and noticed empty spots. The necessary sizes and shapes had gone missing.

He could look around in Master Willow’s collection for the right tool, but Glim wanted his own.

The thought snagged his attention. Why not ask Master Willow?

Glim finally recognized a need that had been growing within himself. A need for redemption, and to reclaim the sense of control over his own life that had led him to flee Wohn-Grab in the first place. Because, as nice as everyone had been since his return, the same situation still existed. Gyda’s question about how he used essentiæ had finally brought him to this realization: he needed to face the hinterjacks again.

--------------- ~~~ *** ~~~ ---------------

Convincing Master Willow had been the easiest.

“You’re what?” Master Willow glared at him with a scowl that seemed as genuine as the surprise in his voice.

“I’m going to the tower again.”

“Why?”

“I want to face the hinterjacks.”

“This pattern is getting you nowhere.”

“That’s why I want to break it.”

The man stroked his short beard and sighed. “Fine. I’ll meet you here tomorrow morning.”

“No. I’m going alone.”

His tutor’s scowl melted into a look of pure incredulity. “Absolutely not. No one travels alone. Not even I.”

“I want no distractions. I can’t be concerned about others. Only myself and the hinterjacks.”

“There’s more than hinterjacks out there. What if you slip on a rock and break your ankle? This is dangerous and reckless. I won’t allow it.”

“It is not reckless and I’m not asking for permission. Think of this as a courtesy. I could have simply left in the night. You want me to be free of my guilt? This is the way.”

Oddly enough, this seemed to sway Master Willow. “I see.”

Convincing father had been trickier.

“Absolutely not. I don’t even send patrol commanders out alone.”

“And you aren’t sending me, either. I am going. On my own, to put Ryn’s death to rest.”

His tone earned a glare. “How will this do that?”

“It’s not something I can explain. This is how I will find balance. I’m telling you in advance so you won’t worry.”

“Son, that’s not how worrying works.”

“When you do the Port Cantle run, do you take others with you?” His father sighed and shook his head. “How is this different?”

They argued about it at length, but in the end, Glim’s point stood, and his father grudgingly relented.

The hardest conversation loomed ahead like the shadow of the tower Glim would soon visit.

In the evening hours, with the sunlight slanting low in the sky, Glim pulled Gyda aside from her friends. She smiled at his approach, even hopped a little. Her enthusiasm dampened when she looked into his eyes.

“What is it?” she asked, once they’d found a quiet corner, and sat together on a stone bench overlooking the setting sun.

“I’m going to be gone the next couple of days.”

“Where are you going?”

“To a hinterjack lair.”

Gyda blanched. “Can’t someone else go?”

“I’m the one who decided to go.”

“But why?”

“I need to confront them again.”

Gyda gasped, then frowned darkly. “Glim, you don’t need to prove your bravery to anyone. You don’t need to kill any more beasts! This is stupid!” Her voice rose to a near scream by the end.

Glim took her hand.

“That’s just it. I’m not going there to kill them. You asked me once: what do I use plying for? I don’t want violence anymore. I want to exist in harmony with the world. Hinterjacks included.” Glim smiled at her in what he hoped looked like encouragement. “I want to prove that I can walk my own path. My way. Not by the sword or the shard, but with care for all creatures.”

Gyda looked at him skeptically. “So you’re going to set your sword aside and stop being a guard?”

“No. Defending our home is different. Or hunting in order to eat. There are still times to kill. But in the service of harmony. I just don’t want to provoke any more conflict. So I want to figure out a way to walk the wilds in peace.”

“This sounds dangerous.”

“I don’t think it will be. Maybe the way we walk with world changes how the world walks with us.”

“Huh?”

Glim laughed. “I know. Master Willow says stuff like that all the time.”

They sat in silence awhile watching the sky. At last she stirred beside him. “I still think this is stupid.”

But this time the word struck him differently. Almost flirtatious, as if she’d come to terms with his plan. Glim caught her eye, which sparkled as she looked at him. “Oh yeah?” he said, voice hoarse. His breath caught when saw the heat in her gaze.

“Incredibly,” she said, leaning closer.

Before his brain could catch up, Glim found his lips pressed against hers once more. Unlike last time, where the sudden contact had been a surprise, he’d been hoping for this one. He savored the moment, surging inside as their kiss deepened. Just when the strain stretched to a snapping point, they pulled apart, breathing heavily. She touched her forehead to his.

“Just be careful,” she said simply, and walked away.