Chapter 7

The two approach the bicycle parked outside of town. When they arrive, Lucas turns to stare down the road due east. The baker’s wife had given them the invaluable information that Homer had indeed proceeded eastward, mounted on his horse and moving with tremendous speed. Lucas continues to stare, deliberately looking away from Wren so that she can’t read his face. Multiple ideas borne of what transpired in the doctor’s house race through his mind, all coming together into a single line of thought. With that, he turns around towards Wren.

She writes quickly and quietly on a sheet of parchment. “It looks like you were right; Homer came through here.” Her speech is uninhibited by her writing, and vice versa. “What’s our next move?”

“Before that, I think I’ve pieced together what happened here based on Nathan’s story.” He pauses to note Wren’s reaction, which is minimal. A simple ‘go ahead’ as she puts the finishing touches into her letter. He proceeds with an expression as neutral as he can muster. “Homer came looking for a doctor because he needed a pain-killer. Noah gave that to him. But any more than a small amount would have put him to sleep, which a fugitive would prefer to avoid while on the run. He turned on Noah and injected him with the rest of the serum, rendering him unconscious. His reason for doing this was none other than to satisfy his urge for violence, being the criminal he is. Does that sound logical to you?”

Her look of contemplation is well composed as she sets her face towards the sea to the north. After a moment, she nods. “That sounds accurate to me.”

Upon hearing this, Lucas’s own expression turns serious. “Then I have two questions for you.” Evidently, his voice conveys his emotion as Wren turns towards him upon hearing this. He continues. “Why clear the room before Nathan started talking? And why tell him not to share his story of what happened?”

Now she turns to look at him. “I said as much before we left, to prevent rumors from—”

“If Homer were a normal steal-and-run thief, you could have thought of a perfectly logical explanation to whatever Nathan might have said. There would be no rumors. You chose to take precautions because you knew his recounting would be abnormal.” Lucas’s body language is still. He shows little expressiveness, like a man who is explaining something simple that he has already confirmed for himself.

Wren can read as much. She faces the sea again. “Fine, yes.” She crosses her arms, not out of spite, but in thought about what to say next. “But why do you care? You took this job for the money alone, to catch a criminal and accept the reward. That’s what you said back at Agios.”

“Exactly that: to catch a criminal, get paid, and leave the country, not to get involved in the Court’s covert affairs.” He places his hand on the handlebar of the bicycle and taps his finger on the metal portion, calm but frustrated.

Wren’s demeanor softens and she clearly finds sympathy in Lucas’s reason for questioning their current situation. She looks at him again. “So, what? You’re going to walk away?”

Lucas takes a moment to think. He looks down at the asphalt. “I’ll do the job; thirty thousand is more than I can make in three months.” His gaze rises to meet Wren’s. “But I can’t work in the dark. I have a few questions.”

“Not here.” Wren gestures down the road and Lucas understands her meaning. She wants to make sure they’re out of earshot of anyone in town before engaging in any form of questioning.

Lucas hops onto the bicycle, followed by Wren. They take off at a steady pace. Once they’ve gone far enough that the mountains tower to their right, he sits up and takes a deep breath before starting. He contemplates asking about Eleanor’s real name, but decides against it, finding it insignificant to his current position. If she wanted to be discreet about her alias, she wouldn’t have put it in quotes when signing her name.

“At any point during the briefing, did Eleanor lie to me?” His voice is without tone, as though he’s asking the most mundane of questions.

Wren takes a moment to recall everything she heard in that room. “No.”

“Why should I trust your answer?”

Again, Wren’s response is delayed. “If I lie to you, and you find out, you’ll start looking for answers on your own and the Court will have you killed. You didn’t agree to risk your life when you took this job.”

This time, it is Lucas who pauses before responding. “I believe you.” He continues. “Do you know anything more about the fake body in Agios?”

“No.”

“Do you have any idea what happened when Homer entered Drepano?”

“No.”

A moment of silence goes by. Being unable to see Lucas’s face, Wren can only imagine what might be going through his mind. “Do you know what Homer made off with from the capital?”

Silence, which Lucas interprets as having asked the right question. He awaits her response, which begins with a sigh. “Yes and no.”

“Explain.”

Her speaking slows as she thinks of her next words carefully. “Homer is in possession of a scarce variety of fruit.”

A pause. “He stole fruit?”

“It isn’t any normal produce. The Court has poured hundreds of thousands of drachma into researching its properties, what it does to people. They come from some island far beyond the nations, across the western sea. I don’t know what it does but it might be affecting the clues Homer is leaving behind.”

“Like the bodies and the doctor?”

“Maybe.”

Lucas allows some time to go by, so much that Wren assumes the conversation is over. He even leans forward again. After deciding on how to proceed, he suddenly picks up the discussion once more. “You’re bad at lying.”

Wren is startled, both at his words and the mundane, matter-of-factness with which he utters them. “I’ve only told you what I know.”

“And I believe all of it except for your reason for saying any of it in the first place.”

“What do you mean?”

“You should know full well that I have no interest in the Court’s dealings, and that I wouldn’t go out of my way to know about them.” He pauses to let these thoughts rest in the air before continuing. “I think the real reason you’re telling the truth is because you don’t have the heart of a liar.”

Wren looks straight ahead as they cruise narrowly between the mountains and the coast. “I think that’s a dangerous assumption.”