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It takes more than a few minutes to get everyone into the van when Riz decides that it’s time to leave.
“Gorgug gets shotgun!” he shouts over the din of them arguing over who gets the front seat, ignoring Fabian’s whines of, but the Ball… “But nothing, get in, just…”
As he struggles to coax and push his inebriated friends inside, Eugenia Shadow cackles as she floats in front of the gate of the graveyard, looking for all the world that she’s relaxing on a lounge chair watching a slapstick comedy.
They’d arrived in Ashgrove around eight in the evening, and now it’s pushing two in the morning. Riz doubts that traffic will be a problem at this point, so that will put them back in Elmville after four. Dropping everyone off will put him back at Strongtower around five. Whether his mom will be awake or not is a coin toss.
At least there are no classes to worry about anymore, he thinks to himself wryly as he watches Kristen struggle to buckle herself in as Adaine laughs at her before dissolving into another stray cough.
As if the mystery at hand won’t be his new priority, with spring break beginning.
“You know,” Eugenia Shadow says as Riz slides the van door closed and the conversation about tranquilizers is muffled, “normally there are decades between students finding me.” She shakes her head in shame and takes another drag of her joint. “Maybe I’m losing my touch.”
Riz continues to suspend his disbelief over the fact that the joint has been passed around all night without burning away, let alone the fact that all of them, ghost or not, can even touch it. “I’m sorry?” he offers, not sounding sorry at all.
“The cheek on you young folk,” she teases, not sounding offended at all. “But you should be proud of yourself, Mister Gukgak. A far more honorable approach to the mystery than your peer, for what it’s worth to you.”
Riz chews on that thought for a bit, remembering how he got that clue to begin with, before deciding that it’s too bitter for this moment. “Thank you.”
Eugenia Shadow nods understandingly. “There’s something to be said for honor among thieves and rogues like ourselves. We’ve garnered a poor reputation throughout history by screwing over the rich and powerful, who slandered our profession in recompense, but no one knows what we’re about more than us.”
She takes another puff, and the smoke billows out into a perfect ghostly ring. “That being said, there are times when, for the sake of time or urgency, honor is luxury that cannot be afforded.” She puffs again and sends a tiny bullet whizzing through the ring, the smoke dissolving.
Riz thinks about himself, arquebus in hand, staring at Coach Daybreak’s skull splattered across the grass, at Biz Glitterdew’s mangled hand falling in bloody tatters - men who had used and abused the trust of others in lieu of power.
(Riz thinks of his own hand clutching Kipperlilly’s file, and wonders how his soul will be judged when he dies for good, and if he'll end up another falling, screaming soul.)
Eugenia Shadow catches his look and takes it a different way. “I’d be mindful of Miss Copperkettle - she has clearly demonstrated that there are few, if any, punches she’s willing to pull in this game that she is playing.”
You know, she’s not a bad kid.
“Yeah, yeah, will do,” Riz says, nodding, not bothering to correct her.
She nods in return. “And, did I get your evaluation?”
“Oh yeah, it’s-” Riz turns and opens the door of the van. “Fig, you took my eval!”
Fig thrusts the now crumpled paper out of the van window, and grabs Riz’s wrist as he takes it. “You don’t deserve her,” she whispers with mock intensity, the sour scent of beer mingled with her typical cloves drifting from her, before pulling back inside.
That could be taken a number of ways, Riz decides; he definitely didn’t expect the culmination of his studies, the pinnacle of his success in school, to be his friends getting crossfaded in a graveyard with his teacher. He looks over the edits that Fig has made to his evaluation. Good at rogue stuff but and double-fisting cigarettes was a bit much.
Well, if anyone can appreciate that, it’s Arthur Aguefort - and that realization throws Eugenia Shadow in a much sharper perspective.
“Now that we’ve met, you might spot me here and there on campus,” she says warmly as Riz hauls himself up into the driver’s seat. “Please don’t hesitate to come to me with any questions.”
“Are you going to make me smoke with you to get answers?” Riz asks, raising his eyebrows.
“Clever young man,” she laughs. “Oh, and,” and she pulls from seemingly out of thin air a crisp envelope that Riz recognizes. “Do give this to Mister O'Shaughnessey - my confirmation of your success.”
“I appreciate it,” Riz says, taking the envelope. He slams the door closed and goes to tuck the envelope away into his briefcase - he can give it to Jawbone tonight when they get back to Elmville.
Gorgug is slumped in the passenger seat, head tilted in the awkward position between the window and the headrest. In the second row he can see Fabian hunched over his crystal with Adaine leaning over his shoulder, mumbling something as he types, and then deletes whatever he typed. He can just barely see Fig’s horns in the back row, unusually still, and he guesses that she and Kristen are cuddled up back there together.
“Everyone good?” he calls out, adjusting his mirrors.
“I’m hungry,” Kristen wails from the back, and a chorus of affirmation joins her.
“Deal with it,” Riz says without sympathy, but already resigning himself to pulling in for fast food at some point during the drive as he hears Kristen groan in response.
Eugenia Shadow waves them off, as Riz pulls the van away from the graveyard gate. By the time he’s pulled up to the main road and looks in the mirror one last time, she’s vanished into the night air.
Everyone is too out of it to discuss the mystery on the ride home. At this point in the year, Riz actually wouldn’t mind some peace and quiet, even at the expense of gaining some further insight.
But that doesn’t mean his friends don’t want to discuss other things.
“But like,” Fig is saying, hanging over the row to flop her arms on Adaine and Fabian, “how the fuck does a company, that rents out construction equipment, not get suspicious over delivering a backhoe to a high schooler at a cemetery?”
“To be fair,” Fabian pointed out, “that catering company did not give a single shit about me filling a pool with tarter sauce.”
“Yes well, you’re rich,” Adaine says. “And you were doing it to your own home, not a fucking cemetary.”
“Feels like a liability issue,” Gorgug mumbles, his eyes closed. “Like, if she vandalized the place, they’d be…liable. For not looking into it.”
“Exactly!”
“Or maybe,” Kristen snorts, “maybe she rented it at, like, the renting place. And,” and she chortles at her thought, “she fuckin’ drove it down the street. Streets.”
“Could she even do that? Are backhoes street legal?” Fabian asks over the commotion.
“Tractors are!” Kristen says, pointing at him. “Construction stuff probably is too.”
“But, but it’d be so slow,” Adaine says.
“And that’d make sense,” Fig butts in. “Because she’s all about,” and she’s interrupted by her own burp, “the rules, so, like, it’d still be legal to drive even if it slows everyone else down!”
The mental image of Kipperlilly Copperkettle furiously driving a backhoe down the street with a line of honking cars behind her doesn’t give Riz the same amusement that it clearly does to his friends, based on the sound of their hoarse laughter.
He feels something pat his shoulder and looks over to see Gorgug, looking at him earnestly. “Riz, you okay?”
Riz nods, “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, just, tired, y’know?” Tired doesn’t even begin to cut it. There’s no room in him for any emotion other than tired, even with the weight of his academics off of his shoulders.
“Oh, yeah. Yeah I know.” Gorgug sighs heavily. Having him in the front seat was a strategic move on Riz’s part, as the least likely to be a distraction while he drives. “That’s why I…” and Gorgug makes a vague mimic towards his mouth that could be a smoke or a drink, “...yeah, you know.”
“You’ve been working really hard, man,” Riz agrees. “Between all your work, and the Last Stand, you’ve been fuckin’...” He makes an explosive noise with his mouth. “Knockin’ it out of the park.”
That’s an understatement. Gorgug was undoubtedly the best of them in the Last Stand, taking down the purple worm single-handedly; Riz doesn’t use the phrase defying the odds lightly, but if there was ever a situation, or a person, deserving of it…
“Thanks,” Gorgug yawns. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Riz shrugs.
“The, your name. It’s not actually short for anything, is it? Like, I’m pretty sure it’s not, but I just wanted to double-check.”
Riz snorts. “No. Never has been,” he says, with an undercurrent of bitterness in his voice. Rizbert, Erizabeth, Rizwalda. It sours him in a way that he finds somewhat familiar. “Just Riz.”
Gorgug nods. “Yeah, I just. I know how ticked off it made me when Telemaine couldn’t get my name right. Just wanted to check in.”
It’s not the same, Riz wants to say. Instead, he swallows it down. “Hey, at least he tried something to get it right.”
“Yeah, he did.” Gorgug hums. “But like, you’re not just Riz, you know-”
“Is being just Riz a bad thing?” Riz snaps before he can stop himself, and he immediately clamps his mouth shut, fang digging into his tongue. He can’t bring himself to look at Gorgug and see the expression on his face. “I, I’m sorry, Gorgug, I know that’s not-”
“No, no, it’s okay.” Gorgug shakes his head. And no it’s not bad, of course not. I’m sorry.”
An awkward silence settles between them. When he peeks over, he seeks Gorgug chewing his lip, looking downcast.
Riz groans quietly. He can’t tell if it’s because he feels bad, or because Gorgug isn’t completely sober, that he says, quietly, “It’s not bad, to be short, or small.”
(That’s what Riz has been his whole life. He’d accomplished everything up to this point because he was short and small, not in spite of being short and small.)
I was home studying. I’m sure you know how it is.
Riz shuts his mouth before he can say anymore. The silence now is a little more thoughtful. Riz suddenly becomes aware that the conversation that had been flowing in the backseats has become muted.
“Yeah, you’re right. I was, I was gonna say,” Gorgug begins, “I was going to say that you’re Riz, and you're our friend. And you do, so, so much for us. And you’re really cool. I think you’re like, the coolest person I know. And you being short is a part of what makes you cool, I think.”
Riz chokes down a sob that had started to rise around you’re really cool. He really doesn’t deserve Gorgug. “...thanks Gorgug. I do, I appreciate it. You checking in. Thanks man.”
Gorgug is quiet for another moment before asking, “Can I ask you one more thing?”
“Anything.” Riz says sincerely.
“Could we actually stop for some food? I know you’re driving, and you said deal with it, and I get it. But like, I’m fucking starving. I’ll feed you food while you drive, I don’t mind, I just…”
Riz huffs a quiet laugh. “I saw a Five Eyes on the way there, how does that sound?”
“Sounds fucking good man.” Gorgug nods in appreciation before closing his eyes again, and, within a minute, starts snoring softly.
It’s a miracle this place is open at this hour, but only for the Bad Kids, and certainly not for whatever poor employee that is about to encounter them.
The commotion that erupts in the van as Riz pulls into the parking lot under the glowing sign of the Five Eyes is grating. Riz debates the benefits of ordering inside versus just going through the drive-thru, and his desire to get home quickly and not have to deal with everyone getting out and back into the van wins out.
“It’s on me,” Fabian drawls as Riz pulls into the drive-thru, and, amidst the multitude of thank yous, he takes his credit card and clumsily pokes Riz in the face while trying to hand it to him. “Get yourself something good, the Ball. Like a milkshake, or something.”
Turning Fabian’s credit card over in his hand, Riz is struck, not for the first time, by the bitter and intrusive thought of just rob Fabian. Just hack into his account. He won’t even know it. He’d probably be happy to send you to college.
(That last thought, one that Riz has only ever consciously thought once before burying it deep, is probably true - but that’s why Riz has buried it.)
I guess egg on my face for wanting something.
Ordering is a fucking nightmare. If Riz does go to hell, that will be a part of it. But he does get himself a milkshake, and two burgers instead of just one.
When they get to the payment window, an unenthused human cashier names an astronomical amount, and raises his eyebrows at Riz. “That’s a cool setup you’ve got going on,” he comments as he takes the credit card.
Riz shrugs, hearing the mirrors clack as they swing around. “It works. Sorry about this.”
The cashier shrugs. “Hey, I get it. When you gotta munch,” and he shrugs again, letting the rest go unsaid. “Designated driver?”
“Pretty much.” This is accompanied by another multitude of thank you Riz from his friends, and Gorgug reaches over to pat Riz on the head, probably heavier than intended.
The cashier has Riz pull into a spot beyond the drive-thru. “This is going to take us a bit.”
After putting the van in park, Riz takes the opportunity to lean back and push the heels of his hands into his eyes and sigh. He needs to reset, to sleep for at least an hour or two, to feel the illusion of being refreshed - just something to end this period of time and start another.
“I’m surprised you were cool with this Fabian. This is like, greasy,” Kristen says.
“That was sophomore year,” Fabians says snidely, in stark contrast to the fact that he’s lowered his standards. “I will eat just about anything at this point.”
“...hey, like, where did the name Five Eyes come from?” Adaine asks.
“Ooh, I actually know this,” Fig says excitedly before launching into explanation.
Nineteen minutes, sixteen burger patties, five cartons of fries, six milkshakes, and one inspirational story about a beholder that turned his life around after being born with only five eyes instead of eleven eyes later, Riz pulls back onto the highway, letting Gorgug feed him fries dipped in milkshake as he drives.
It’s pushing five o’clock in the morning by the time Riz crosses the bridge that precedes the winding road up to the manor. Behind him, everyone has dropped into sleep after finishing their food, leaving with a blessedly quiet ride back into Elmville.
The sky is a hazy dark blue when he pulls into the gravel roundabout in front of Mordred, and spies Jawbone sitting out on the porch on the swinging bench, a mug in his hand.
“There y’all are,” he says affably as he walks up to the van, opening his mouth in a jaw-splitting yawn. The door slides open, spilling out Kristen, Fig, and Adaine, who wanders over to give Jawbone a hug, a content smile on her face. “Everyone okay?” he asks as he squeezes her back affectionately.
“Riz’s teacher fucking rules,” Kristen says, shaking her head before she and Fig stumble up to the house, their arms around each other.
“Ah, yeah, she does,” Jawbone laughs. “That woman could outsmoke a fog machine. And speaking of Miss Shadow,” and he turns to Riz expectantly.
Riz pulls the envelope from his briefcase to flash it at Jawbone. “I figured.” Jawbone pats his shoulder with pride before taking the envelope. “Good work bud. See, you didn’t need to use Kipperlilly to do this!”
“Mmhm, thanks,” Riz says, flexing his hands and staring at the wheel as bitterness chokes the back of his throat. Being around Jawbone this past week has set his nerves on fire more so than usual, with Kipperlilly’s file burning a hole in his briefcase.
(It’s not so much the guilt, of which there is a little bit - but more so the knowledge that he should feel guiltier.)
Are you seeing something you recognize in yourself, and you maybe don't like it too much?
“And, thanks for driving. It’s fun to get down to it and all, but it’s even better to make sure you’re doing so safely, so I appreciate you doing that for your friends.” Jawbone leans against the van. “You guys crashing here?”
Riz shakes his head. “No, I want to check in with my mom. I’ll drop them off and walk home from Gorgug’s place.”
Jawbone nods. “Send me a text when you’re back safe, won’t you?”
Riz nods. “Will do.”
Jawbone waves at them, his arm still around Adaine, as Riz drives away, and Riz can’t bear to look at him for too long, so he focuses on the road.
As he passes the diner, Fabian leans over the front seats, crystal in hand. “Mazey said she wants to hang out!” he exclaims excitedly.
Riz snorts. “Did she like the picture?”
“Of course,” Fabian shrugs, Riz’s tone clearly going over his head. “Guys, I think I’m gonna ask her out, for real. Like, a real date. It’s about time.”
Gorgug hums in interest. “What do you think would be good?” Fabian asks, looking between them. “Like, good date material?”
Gorgug shrugs. “Something simple is good. I mean, Zelda and I went to Basrar’s, remember?”
Riz remembers being half-drunk on gnomish vodka hunched in a booth trying not to cry over losing his dad all over again.
It should be adjusted for academically if a person's family has suffered intense magical hardship, because that's an unfair advantage in adventuring.
Fabian nods, grimacing, probably remembering the stilted conversation on music. “Yeah, I do, I just,” and he blows out a breath nervously. “I just, I want this to be perfect. It’s got to be.”
“Why?” Riz shrugs. “Your motorcycle chased Zelda home after their date, trying to protect her, and she still got kidnapped. And she still went out with Gorgug.”
Fabian sputters something scornful and incomprehensible, and Riz doesn’t reply, trusting that Fabian will continue talking whether he says anything more or not.
To be clear, Riz liked Mazey; there were a lot of good things about her that would probably be good for Fabian - they had a common interest; she had a clear head, and cared about others; she had not tried to kill them yet; and she was not a mirror. All good things, almost surprisingly good, considering Fabian’s track record.
(No, Riz’s problem is his own, and it’ll stay his own.)
When he pulls up to Seacaster Manor, the lights are still on inside, no doubt from the students pulling all-nighters in the study groups. Meanwhile, Fabian has been texting furiously, and he blinks in surprise at their sudden arrival, pursing his lips in something - anticipation or apprehension, Riz can’t tell - before climbing out. “So, are we gonna like, meet up tomorrow? Or, today, I guess?”
“Go get some sleep first,” Riz says, surprising himself. He’s come some way from Riz at the beginning of the school year, who’d wanted to dive headfirst into new leads and insights as soon as they were discovered. “We’ll talk again when you’re all sober.”
Fabian hums, reaches out as if to pat Riz on the shoulder or the head before he thinks twice and pulls back for whatever reason. “Thanks for driving, the Ball.”
Riz waits to make sure Fabian makes it inside before pulling the van away.
The Thistlespring tree already has a tiny plume of white smoke coiling into the brightening sky when Riz finally turns the van off in the driveway. “C’mon, man,” he says, shaking Gorgug’s arm as he grabs his own untouched burgers. “Up and at 'em, your bed is waiting.”
He probably hurts Gorgug more than he helps him - he’s not exactly tall enough to be a good support - up to the door, which opens as Gorgug slowly hunts around for the spare key hidden in a knot.
Wilma peeks her head out, dressed in a robe holding a mug of steaming tea. “Oh, there you are Gorgug!” and she steps aside to let her son stumble inside, breaking something in the process, before looking at Riz with surprise. “Did he, uh, hit the hay?”
Riz furrows his brow. “Uh, yeah, he took a nap on the way home.”
She chuckles and winks unsubtly. “Gotcha. Hey, thank you for driving Riz. You know, that’s all every parent wants, for their kid to come home safely. How about you hang around a moment, and I’ll drive you home, huh? Or if you want breakfast, Digby’s frying up some bacon-”
Riz shakes his head. “Thanks Missus Thistlespring, but I’ll just walk. It’s not a problem.”
He waves off further offers, but does accept a little tupperware of oatmeal raisin cookies, as thanks for being responsible, to take home. From Gorgug’s open window, he can already hear the familiar sound of snoring.
The sky has turned a soft blue as the sun comes closer to the horizon, but the chill of the night still lingers in the air. Riz has his briefcase in one hand and a limp bag of cold burgers in the other, walking briskly to keep the chill away.
The Strongtower Luxury Apartments stand like an omen against the sky. Even as he approaches, Riz can see the rusted fire escapes and the faded brickwork. The parking lot is full of junkers and potholes.The elevator is still broken down. Riz sighs and starts climbing the stairs. The door to the stairwell sticks when he tries to get it open, and he has to practically slam into it for it to budge.
When he opens the door to the apartment, his mom is asleep on the couch, still dressed in her clothes from the previous day. Files and papers from both of them litter the kitchen and coffee tables. It looks the same as it did from twenty-four hours ago, when Riz was last here, with no sign of any food that’s been eaten since then. There are things piled on both of their usual kitchen chairs - but the chair that belonged to his dad is, as always, unoccupied.
Riz toes off his shoes and shakes his mom gently. “Mom, I brought food.”
His mom hums, and blinks. “Oh, hey sweetheart.” She reaches up to ruffle his hair as she sits up and yawns. “What time is it?”
“Just after six.” Riz puts the bag down on the coffee table in the little spot he’s freed from papers. “You hungry?”
“Ooh, Five Eyes,” and she takes the burger Riz offers her. “How was your trip?” she asks through her mouthful of burger. “Did you…?”
Riz nods, unwrapping his own burger. “Found her. She was… not what I was expecting, to say the least.” He takes a handful of fries to put on his burger before he takes a bite. Even cold, it’s still good.
“But did you…?” she urges.
He nods. “Yep, already cleared it with Jawbone. No more classes this year.”
His mom grins happily. “That’s my boy,” she says. “Acing his junior year, twice. And what does that mean for next year? I mean,” she waves her hand, “she’s probably not going anywhere. Could you do the same thing again at the beginning of next year? Would it still count?”
Riz hadn’t thought that far. “I have no idea.” That would be nice. There would be a lot more time for everything else if that were the case.
“Well, whatever the case, at least you have some more time for rest right now.” She eyes him pointedly. “Right?”
Riz nods automatically. “Yep. Yep.” He takes another bite to avoid answering.
“Well, did she help you out at all? Especially with that girl, what’s her name?”
“Kipperlilly,” Riz says. "Yeah, apparently Kipperlilly showed up at her grave with a backhoe.”
His mom curses softly. “That’s something, alright. Wow. Can’t imagine what drives someone to do that.”
Riz purses his lips. “Yeah,” he says, unsure of what he could say to follow up without giving himself away. He disappoints his mom on a regular basis with his sleeping and eating habits, but he does try very hard not to disappoint her in other ways.
(Like admitting to stealing from someone who wants to help him, and only finding the rogue teacher because he’d followed in the tracks of someone else, who had made the choice he couldn't be seeking guidance, whose privacy he’d violated by by stealing from someone..)
I'm afraid that if Kipperlilly had walked a brighter path, she might have ended up more like you.
He buries the lead. “I think I’m gonna get some sleep. Everyone’s pretty tired, so I think we’ll meet up later when we’re all rested.”
It works, and his chest twists at his mom’s relieved smile. “That sounds good sweetie.”
Riz does actually get changed and flops onto the couch in the spot where his mother had been, while she gets up and moves around the apartment, organizing papers and books. He watches her hand linger on the back of his dad’s chair for a moment before she moves away.
He clenches his jaw painfully, interrupted only when his crystal chirps. He opens it to read a text from Adaine:
riz did you get home safe jawbone is asking thanks for driving
Riz squeezes his eyes shut before he takes a deep breath, types out a quick yeah and puts his crystal down.
He turns over so his back is to the room, curls up, and holds himself, letting exhaustion overtake the presence of bitterness and anger that had wound itself in knots around his ribs and through his muscles and up his throat ever since he had read Kipperlilly’s file.
The last thing he remembers is his mom draping a blanket over him, and he thinks, what did the brighter path look like, before he drifts to sleep.