Abbernathy and Magick's End

(7) - The Crew of the Celes -

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MORNING LIGHT streamed through the slatted window, resting on the old desk where Sebbi was hunched over, fending off another yawn as he focused on the finishing touches. A bead of sweat snaked down his jaw, bloodied fingers guiding the needle through the fabric.

He frowned. The thread was not an exact match. The Wizard's handkerchief was a deep purplish-blue that had proven hard to come by in Noriie. The closest Sebbi had found was a navy thread with hints of aquamarine. A tiny indiscretion, barely visible, but he had wanted his gift to be perfect. And it was anything but. 

The seams were off, the fabric spotted with his blood, the ribbon wider at the ends than its slender middle. It looked like a snake squashed under cart wheels.

"She'll hate it," he mumbled into the silent, morning air.

She won't.

"I hate it." He turned it over in his palm, the fabric shimmering just like it had when the Wizard had given it to him. He'd said he enchanted it, and it certainly looked alive. A part of the night sky pruned for enjoyment anywhere and at any time.

But she'll love it, his inner voice asserted.

Though doubt lingered in his chest as he glared down at his handiwork, he carefully folded the ribbon before slipping it into his pant pocket. He got up from his chair, wobbling knees and an aching back making him realize he hadn't moved since sitting down to his task last night. He hadn't even eaten - a tray of food on his bed had gone untouched - the sludgy porridge cold and gloopy, the spiced jerky about as appetizing as old leather. 

Outside, the sun grew higher in the sky, its golden rays threading through the grey weave of that morning. The Wizard had told him to be at the docks by dawn. But dawn was fast approaching, and Sebbi was becoming all too aware of the emptiness in his belly, the exhaust causing his eyelids to droop, the stench rising from his armpits.

His gaze lingered on a silk purse, laid out between wrinkled tunics and a few pairs of trousers. Inside was a small, oval ruby Sebbi had had with him since Aelurus. He snatched up the purse, gave a slight grin, and tucked it into his pocket. Bantu had done so much for him - saved him from the desert, fed and clothed him, paid for his board. The least Sebbi could do was give him the ruby. 

He knew Bantu wouldn't accept it outright, but before Sebbi was human, he'd been a cat gifted with cleverness and agility, and the ability to sneak around, mostly unseen. A slip of the hand, dipping into Bantu's pocket and depositing the ruby without him noticing ought to be easy enough. 

Having gathered all his things into the knapsack Bantu had given him, and checking his pockets a second and third time to ensure the ribbon hadn't slipped through a hole unseen, he made for the door. He had a man to thank and a flying ship to catch.

*

Bantu and Uusa were seated at the back of the inn's small restaurant, crammed into a long, pillowed seat. Aside from a table of four, and a few hunched over stragglers at the bar bemoaning their burgeoning headaches, they were alone. A fire burned low in the hearth.

Sebbi strode toward them, excited and nervous. Excited to see Abby and Lucy. Nervous as to how they'd react at him being alive. When they asked how it was possible--because of course they would ask, it was inevitable--what was he to say?

He didn't have a clue as to what had happened. One moment, he was in the Hollows dining with ghosts, the next, awake in a forest. 

"Sebbi! Well met!"

Noticing Sebbi's approach, Bantu hefted an arm into the air and waved him over.