Wednesday, July 16, 2008

One Day in a Small-Town Desert, chapter 19, page 4

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Emperor Bhanar followed Nulıpésha into the room where they had previously processed him, fingerprinted him, and took his personal belonging and his belt.

He had to get Zhíno--for justice, for his empire, for Nulıpésha. But where did Zhíno disappear to, if the police couldn’t find him?

Outwardly patient, Bhanar waited while the heart-faced woman opened a file cabinet and retrieved a large, bulging envelope. “Here are your things.” She plopped the envelope onto a desk and shook out the contents.

Bhanar slipped his wallet and keys into his trouser pockets and began snaking his belt through the loops.

What had Zhíanoso said to him during his healing? Something about going to the springs and following the water downstream. It had stuck in his head because of the whole water/fire dichotomy.

“The wife of Pí‘oro said a water spring is north of the house. I need to go.” It had to be where Zhíno was, or else why would the High God of Fire mention it? Finding him was Bhanar’s goal. Zhíanoso would have known that. Zhíanoso knew everything: past, present, and future.

“Rosí Spring,” she replied. “A nice place to visit.” She eyed him suspiciously with a smirk. “Why?”

“Zhíno is there.”

Her face turned impassive. “How do you know?”

“Zhíanoso said to me.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Then let’s go. First, though, I’ll need you to sign here.” She held out a pen and pointed to a form on the desk.

Bhanar signed with a flourish--just his first name, even though the paper still had “Bhanar Narak” printed on it. He mentally growled at his father for shortening the family name and at his grandfather for giving up the empire. What a waste of potential.

Nulıpésha tucked the form away into a file. “It’s done.” She gestured to the other door in the room. “The lobby is through there.”

Bhanar opened the door--unlocked--and saw daylight for the first time since before all this madness began. Out the windows, bright sun bathed a fenced-in parking lot. Zhíno’s brown sedan sat out there like a lump, the rear window a maze of cracks from a bullet hole right in the center. Was that my shot? I am good.

“Tépíto,” Nulıpésha said, “I’m taking Bhanar back to his vehicle at the Kılímos. Here are the lockup keys.”

“All right, Séara,” said the dark-haired man behind the counter. “I’ll be here.”

Séara. Her name is Séara. Séara Nulıpésha. Beautiful.

Séara pushed open the exterior door. Bhanar followed her in a near-trance. She led him over to a police cruiser with “Pívo County Constabulary” written in large, red letters on the side. The sun hit him hot on the right side of his face.

“News reporters from all over the colony are swarming in the front parking lot. It’s not every day an emperor gets thrown in jail.” She gestured toward the passenger side of the auto. “You can sit in the front.”

As he headed that way, Bhanar replied, “I would like to talk to the reporters.”

He hadn’t expected to be addressing his public so soon, but he really should take the opportunity. He needed to make a proper speech of it--explain his night in the jail as a misunderstanding, show the worlds how an emperor should act, announce his coming aid--and Séara’s--in apprehending Zhíno, and be the friendliest, most regal version of himself.

Séara unlocked his door from inside and he climbed in. The dashboard confronted him with a marvelous array of electronics. Bhanar fought his urge to touch.

“Very well.” She frowned slightly, her lower lip protruding in a most enticing way. “I’ll stop the cruiser when we get around to the front.”

“Thank you, Séara.”

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