Page 105 of Swords of Soul and Shadow
Kase
He’d also told her about the arguments the neighbor couple had. He’d heard plenty in the short time he’d lived in these scant dwellings. Everyone was understandably on edge. It was too bad the tent walls were so thin, but at the same time, it kept him entertained. At night, though, when he was tired, he’d written a few more dramatic ones. Those went something like:
Hals,
You’re not going to read this, but it makes me feel less stars-ridiculous if I pretend I’m writing to you than “exploring my emotions through journaling.” That doesn’t sound manly at all. And I’m extraordinarily manly and masculine and all those things, of course. So, apologies in advance for the rambling to come. I wish you were here so I could talk this through with you. You’re much better than this journal and pencil. For one, they’re not nearly as pretty as you. Don’t let the compliment go to your head—even if it’s obviously quite a feat to be more attractive than rough parchment and a stubby pencil.
Anyway, Clara came by with Samuel again today. Can’t wait for you to meet the little tike. He’s got some lungs on him,but he seems to like me well enough. Supposedly he can’t smile yet, but I swear he did when he saw me today. Clara said he was simply relieved he burped and released the pressure that’d built up after his last feeding. I beg to differ. It was a real smile thrown at his Uncle Kase, his new favorite person in the world.
Actually, maybe you shouldn’t meet him yet. He might like you better. Blast it.
Onto not so good things. There’s still no news about Jove or Mother. In relation to my brother, something about the mechanism for something broke, and the crew is having to go above ground and get some supplies. Without electricity, it’s been a more difficult rescue mission, and there are others who fell in a day or so after in a separate cave-in. And of course, the Cerls did another bombing run today. Not sure why they keep doing that. They’ve already pushed us underground. Maybe they’re making sure we’re all blasted to smithereens. Maybe they know we’re underground and are attempting to make it all collapse on our heads. Either way, the supply retrieval team has to wait until nightfall to sneak back into Kyvena. I hate not being able to do anything to help at all. I’ve sent the Stradat Lord Kapitan a few strongly worded letters about letting me fly the hover, but they’ve been met with silence. Any other time, I’d count that as an improvement.
Shocks, will you just come back already? I miss you, and it’s only been like a week. Or two. I’ve lost track.
Always,
Kase
He put on the finishing touches, signing the most recent letter with a flourish. Setting the pencil aside, he rubbed his eyes. With the fuel in his gas lantern getting low, it was high time he slept.
Hopefully he could.
He didn’t feel nearly as heavy, not that he would admit to that. It was almost as if his emotions had bled out with the charcoal. Just a little. Maybe there was something to this journaling thing. Perhaps he might even enjoy writing books—he’d read enough of them to know how to tell a decent story. Hallie would understand, he was sure. He’d mention it in his next letter.
He tucked his pencil and journal underneath his pillow and turned down the lamp. Loud voices and some raucous laughter echoed in the cavern. Stars, couldn’t his father have put him in his own little alcove somewhere? Wasn’t he supposed to be in danger or something? Or was it that he was a danger to everyone else?
Still deserved his own alcove.
He stretched out on his back and stared at the ceiling. For once, he felt tired enough to fall asleep quickly. Most times he tried to sleep, his subconscious conjured nightmares where Jove and his mother were never found, and Kase was forced to step up and be a father figure in Samuel’s life. It terrified him in a different way than before.
Mainly because now that he’d spent time with his new nephew, Kase felt responsible already. If anyone so much as looked at Samuel wrong, they would pay dearly. If Kase had lived a different life with the possibility of children in the future, would it feel like that if he had his own son?
Especially if the kid belonged to him and Hallie.
He rubbed his chest. He should really be used to the ache by then. It’d started when he’d left her in the caverns and had grown progressively worse. He needed to hold her if only to make sure he was still there. Writing her letters she’d never read couldn’t replace that feeling.
Guess he wasn’t going to get any sleep after all.
However, thoughts of Hallie always ended in him thinking about how she was off gallivanting somewhere with Niels. The man was supportive and loyal, Kase knew—but he’d apparently also told Stowe that Kase was rich and arrogant.
Oh Kase wanted to show him just how rich and arrogant his fists could be. He’d written one scathing letter about it the day before. It was one he’d promptly ripped out and thrown into the privy hole.
“Shackley,” a brassy tenor voice said from the tent entrance.
The upper-class accent, tinged with the soft twang of the lower city, told him exactly who stood outside the tent. Eravin showing up at that moment made his jealousy vanish. The void was quickly filled with caution and a dash of anger. Sure, they had a truce, but that didn’t erase the past. Kase sat up.
He had no idea what Eravin had been doing since he’d been brought in to speak with his father and subsequently put under house arrest. He also hadn’t heard from Stowe, despite the note Kase had sent him. It worried him a little. What if he’d fallen into a collapsed hole like Jove? What would he tell Hallie then?
The tent flap opened, and Eravin’s thin, gaunt face appeared. “Shackley.”
Kase didn’t get up from his place on the cot. “Not sure you’re on the approved guest list.”
“A small technicality.” Eravin entered the tent, a cloak over one arm and a parchment held in the other. Kase glimpsed his own handwriting. The letter he’d written Stowe. “It seems you’re desperate for my help.”
That possibly explained the lack of response from Hallie’s father at least.
“I’d say not.” Kase stared at the parchment. Had Stowe given it to him? Or sent Eravin in his place? That didn’t feel likesomething Hallie’s father would do. He seemed like a good judge of character, but Eravin was one of the only people he knew in Kyvena. Maybe he’d gone to Eravin for help. Maybe. Still showed a lack of good judgment he didn’t associate with Stowe, but Kase couldn’t blame him. Eravin was quite charming when he wanted to be—it had gotten them out of some close calls when they were younger.
