Cricket

Volume III Epilogue

Cricket's legs dangled over the lip of the ledge, his back to Licephus' coffin. He stared out into the night air—hardly different from the day's air, really, save for the buzzing mosquitos.

He played with a loose pebble with his thumb and forefinger, then tossed it as if skipping it across a lake. The rock, of course, made no skips, but flew surprisingly far before it grew so small he couldn't track it.

He convinced himself he heard it plink against the cavern floor, and then he worried briefly about the safety of the azaeri night watch far below.

The tower seemed bare and quiet since their return. Mostly because it was. But, as Bax observed, "Also because it isn't." Cricket didn't understand the gnome's profound thinking, but assumed it alluded to the mouseling's absence.

Of course, the gnome was also somewhat of a contrarian. He would often listen to a conversation, then take the opposite stance—no matter what it may be—to challenge himself. Or sometimes, perhaps, just out of support for the underdog. He didn't like to see bad opinions ganged up on by good ones.

One of the rattling stable hands—a wiry schizophrenic named Pick—would often claim "it is what it is!" when things didn't go favorably, and Bax would take the opposite stance. Which... often ended up being true, due to the ratling's hallucinations and the gnome's propensity for illusions.

But Cricket still knew that Bax was a contrarian, and he avoided making patently true statements around the gnome without expecting some pushback.

Cricket heard the slow, shuffling footsteps of the druid behind him. Without turning, he caught himself imagining the mouseling on Jeshu's shoulder and winced.

The druid's heavier steps masked the lighter footfalls of the gnome, but Cricket recognized the distinctive click from the brittle soles of his "magical" boots.

When Jeshu arrived at the ledge, he sat, wordlessly, next to the insect, crossing his legs and letting out a long sigh that communicated enough.

Cricket heard Bax settling in with his back to the sarcophagus, but he sounded fussy and the insect found the noise distracting.

They sat in silence for a long time, listening to the crickets chirp far below.

"Oh, there's one!" Bax whispered, and Cricket turned to see him whittling a bar of soap. The gnome motioned with his thumb back out into the darkness.

A tiny purple light flashed several hundred yards away. A firefly.

Cricket was surprised he had missed the first flash and the gnome hadn't. His instincts were getting dull...

Another purple flash appeared, much closer, and Cricket let out a very faint sound of discomfort.

He started to tear up again and smiled at the druid. "Patches loved fireflies."

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Jeshu nodded. "Odd this time of year... and an odd color." He sent the gnome a knowing glance, but Bax pretended not to pick up on it.

Cricket definitely didn't. He nodded and leaned back, enjoying the unexpected treat.

"How's your jaw?" Jeshu asked.

"What? Oh... fine."

That response sat awkwardly in the air for several minutes before Jeshu spoke again.

"I heard there won't be a service this time."

"You mean a funeral? No. The azaeri didn't like it. They didn't really... understand it."

"They have concrete minds," Jeshu replied. "I think they are not much for symbolism."

"Also, they said the lanterns caused some flight risks, which seems... exaggerated."

Jeshu smiled. "Until you factor in their tendency to hyperfixate, and that they have no practical use for floating lanterns. They are... anxious beings."

"Hmm..." Cricket sighed, clearly not appreciating the druid's logic.

Jeshu thought for a bit then asked, "What would you say if she were here?"

"I'm just sad... that she missed the last funeral. She would have loved it."

"I suppose she would have. Sometimes I find myself reaching up to my shoulder to pat her. Or scanning the shadows in Oydd's lab as we discuss our daily business, half-expecting to see her scurrying behind the bookshelves."

"But now lanterns are basically forbidden. Ruhk burned all the paper."

"Yes, he did take a very aggressive stance on that." Jeshu scratched his chin with his knobbled hand.

"I don't like him." Cricket began to swing his dangling legs. "Too many new rules. Clones have to stay in this area, and fires have to stay in this area, and no speaking to the girls on their shifts."

"I'm surprised to hear that—that you don't like someone."

"He's just... I miss Ruka, and I even kind of miss..."

"Ja'hek?" Jeshu laughed.

"She was more fun than Ruhk."

"She's a stubborn woman. She's practically been running the infirmary while she recovers. I have very little—"

"There!" Bax announced suddenly. "It's finished."

Cricket turned, expecting to see a finished figurine carved from the soap. Instead, the gnome held a single, lit lantern in his hand.

Cricket's antennae bristled.

"For her," Bax clarified. "Just her."

Cricket stood up and started to reach for the lantern, but the gnome reflexively pulled it away.

"Oh, it's..."

"I know. But... can I release it?"

"Oh..." Bax thought. "I... suppose I could, but there are some rules."

Cricket ignored the gnome and reached out to grab the lantern. Though he couldn't feel the oiled paper, he did sense a bit of actual warmth to it, and when he turned away, the illusion followed his fingers, looking very natural.

"Yes, yes," Bax changed his tone. "Be my guest."

Cricket walked up to the ledge, but held the magic lantern close to his chest for a minute, pondering.

"What should I say?"

"That you loved her," Jeshu answered immediately.

Cricket froze, but then nodded awkwardly, which was the closest he would get. Then he extended his hands, and the lantern drifted away on an imaginary breeze.