Chapter Twenty

Hello  

HEWO

Sorry I've been really slow about replying to all your wonderful comments. I'll get better soon, I just literally have to dash :(

~Thea's POV~

I spend the next day lying mostly in boredom in the hotel room. Thankfully, I'm in a lot less pain, and can comfortably move around, although I still walk with a slight limp. Videl still isn't back. I'm not even positive that he's coming back. I'm not even sure if I care.

            I amuse myself by sitting at the window, which is right above the bed I have been occupying,leaning against the brick sill, and looking outside. The hotel room has a view of the expanding, sloped hills of San Francisco that I have heard about, and off into the distance, far, far beyond, I might even be able to see the ocean. It was foggy this morning, but now, the sun has poked out, and shines over the city, and onto my face. I spend hours up here, watching the people in the street, hotel guests going to and fro, and, after three, the large amount of kids laughing and hiking their backpacks higher up their shoulders as they walk home. We must be near a school.

            School reminds me of home. I definitely don't miss school, but now, I have to admit it was nice to have a routine that I could count on. And also, people that I could count on. Videl may have saved me, but I have a feeling he is keeping something from me as to why. When he had left this morning, his only form of greeting to me was to snap that I was to stay in here. I hadn't even gotten the opportunity to snap back.

            I slouch against the brick windowsill and wonder what everyone in New York is doing. Jack is heading home from school right now- is he with Peter? Everyone else is probably looking for me, and I'm trying to imagine the chaos. I feel miserable, and lonely, because I miss my family.

            This leads me to think about what Loki might be up to. He probably knows that I'm gone now. And if the Avengers are probably frantic with worry, Loki is probably frantic with fury. Neidra, I can't decide if she is thrilled or angered that I'm gone. I had been half unconscious when Lifolas had held me in the hell-house, but I had heard enough to know that she wants to kill Loki. And that terrifies me. Because no matter how mad I am at him, no matter how terrible he is to me, I need to warn him. I don't want him to die.

            I'm beginning to get hungrier, and the sun is just beginning to set, casting colors of red, pink, and yellow onto the windowsill. I haven't eaten since this morning, and then, only a pack of over-ripe fruit.

            At that moment, the door opens and Videl walks in. He looks tired, and his hair is mussed, but he isn't scowling anymore. That has to account for something. He's carrying two backpacks, as well as a bundle of clothes.

            "Here," he says shortly, tossing me the clothes- jeans, a bright red shirt, and shoes, "I want my shirt back."

            I glance down at the black fabric, "Okay."

            "We're leaving in five minutes." He leans his arms against the foot of my bed and adds, "So hurry up."

            "Where are we going?"

            "I'm going to get you something to eat, because legend has it that you need to have food, and I don't want to have to go back and forth to this place. Hurry up."

            There is a small bathroom attached to the room, so I get up off the bed, wincing slightly (Videl ignores the winces) , grab my clothes in a bundle, and walk inside. After I change, I take this opportunity to wash my face, the cool water feeling wonderful on my skin. I lick my lips and look in the mirror. My hair is brutally short, and uneven. The ends are curling slightly, and with a pang, this reminds me of Loki's slightly wavy hair- my mother's had been ramrod straight. I run my fingers through the cropped strands, untangling them as much as possible. I feel shorn, and exposed. My eyes look too big for my face now.

            Reluctantly, I walk out of the bathroom, where Videl is standing impatiently, tapping his foot on the floor for added effect. I toss him the shirt, "Where are we going?"

            "I haven't decided yet," says Videl. He throws me one of the backpacks, and underneath its surprising weight, I stagger back. It's painful. "But you need to carry this."

            "Uh," I say, because the backpack's weight is going to be problematic on my injured back. But I don't want to complain. "Okay."

            "Pick it up," he orders.

            I do, and immediately, I bite back a cry of pain, and drop the backpack onto the ground. It's not that it had been terribly heavy, but the criss-crossed wounds on my back had protested and refused the weight.

            Videl frowns, then crouches down and unshoulders my backpack, then unzips it. I get a quick glance at a folded-up blanket, which he shoves into the second backpack, and a few bottles of water. He lifts my backpack with one arm a few seconds later. "There.Try now."

            Lifting up the backpack the second time still sends tremors of pain up my spine and around my stomach, but it's bearable. I stagger slightly, but regain my balance and glance up at Videl.

            He huffs, and then takes my shoulders and turns me around. I hear him unzipping the main compartment and taking out something else- something relatively heavy, because the backpack immediately becomes much lighter.

            He shoves the flashlight and box of matches inside his own backpack and hoists it up on his supple shoulders.

            "What's all this stuff?" I ask, tightening my hold on the backpack straps and following Videl out of the hotel room. He makes sure the door is locked, and then heads down the wood hallway, which is dismally dark. I'm also wondering how Videl got all these supplies in the first place. I sort of doubt that Velah carry dollar bills around with them.  

            "In case we need to make an escape," he says in a deeply annoyed voice. In the low light, I can barely see his golden curls, which fall almost to his shoulders. I realize with slight depression that it's longer than mine, "Which means you need to keep it on your back no matter where you go."

            "What do you think is going to happen?" I ask.

            "Worse case scenario, Loki finds you. I'm sure he has spies everywhere, whether they want to spy on you or not."

            There are either no elevators, or Videl wants me to suffer down the stairs. I grit my teeth as each step on the echoing stairs rattles my body. To distract myself, I ask, "Where have you been all day?"

            "I was mistaken," he says, not looking back at me, "Worst case scenario is that you continue to talk."

            "But don't you-"

            "Please. Shut. Up."

            I make a face at his back, "Fine. If you don't want to tell me how many baby bunnies you ate, then-"

            Videl whirls, "First of all, I don't eat baby bunnies. I drain them of their blood. Second of all, and more importantly, shut up."

            "Have you ever had human food?" I ask. I'm doing to Videl what I used to do to Loki- take out my stress and dullness on him through annoying questions. I have a flashback of walking through the caves in Indonesia side-by-side with Loki, almost falling off cliffs and him catching me, before yelling at me to stop being clumsy. I almost want to smile.

            Videl, looking rather like the hawk in Michigan I had seen being harassed by a much smaller, much more annoying mockingbird, glares at me, "No. And I don't plan on trying it."

            "Why?"

            "You know what?" asks Videl, backtracking so that he's walking right beside me, forcing his long legs to keep my pace, "How about no talking?"

            "Sounds fantastic," I say, "So I suggest you shut up."

            He scowls and walks through a door (not bothering to keep it open for me) out into the street. It's surprisingly chilly, and I wrap my arms around chest. He's not exactly silent, because he's walking beside me, mostly muttering curses, but he ignores me, probably hoping that this approach might shut me up.

            I decide to just be quiet. I'm not exactly getting any information from him, and the more cranky he is, the worse things are for me. I raise my head and sniff the air. It's salt. We are near the ocean.

            As we walk several blocks in silence, a crowd of people begins to form around a pier up ahead, illuminated by strings of bright lights from signs and large lanterns hung around. It's a boardwalk-like set up, horseshoe shaped, with restaurants smelling of seafood and pork roast around the back. There are arcade/carnival games set up at the edges of the roped pier that looks over the Pacific Ocean, loud tinny music and laughter streaming from them. My shoes make clonking noises on the wooden planks, and I look around curiously. There is nothing like this in New York.

            "What do you want to eat?" asks Videl, finally breaking the silence. He's still in a surly mood, his eyes dark and his voice curt, but at least he's offering to feed me.

            "I don't know," I say, looking around at some of the booths set up near the arcade games.

            He rolls his eyes, "Pick something. Now, before I throw you into the water."

            "Uh, clam chowder," I say, pointing to the booth next to us. It's a cute red-and-white tent bedecked by a lit-up sign with a crab and a large menu, with delicious, warm smells coming from it.

            "Stay here," he says in that annoyingly commanding tone of his. I do, although I sit my backpack down on the wooden planks. I watch as Videl approaches the tent, and speaks to the lady in charge. Seconds later, the woman nods, smiling, and walks to the back of the tent, and hands him a small bowl of something steamy, with a spoon sticking out. She waves goodbye at him, which he ignores as he walks back to me. So that's how Videl has been getting all these supplies. By using his mind control.

            "If you say anything about me stealing," says Videl, handing me the hot bowl. The clam chowder smells heavenly, especially since it's very nippy by the water, "Then I will remind you about my saving your life after I dump that disgusting liquid on your head."

            "It's not disgusting," I say, lapping up some of the chowder from the spoon, "It's delicious. You should try some."

            "And I should also join the circus. Both ridiculous ideas."

            "I don't know," I say, "You'd make a fabulous ballerina."

            Videl's scowl deepens, and he looks like he is seconds away from actually dumping my dinner on my head. "How many times am I going to have to ask you to shut up?"

            "At least once more, apparently."

            He breathes a calming, very annoyed breath through his nose, "Just hurry up and finish eating."

            As I continue to eat, we begin to walk alongside the pier, Videl claiming that he doesn't want us to stand in one spot for too long. I spend the time eating the delicious chowder and admiring the hectic, wonderful pier, but Videl spends his time looking around through narrowed eyes. It's like walking beside an overly rigid guard dog.

            While walking and smelling the seafood and the salty freshness of the ocean, I have time to think. I need to somehow tell Loki about Neidra without him catching me, because I don't want to stay with him. And I need to somehow tell everyone in New York not to panic about me, without staying with them. Both options seem impossible. Both options are impossible.

            So by the time I'm done eating my clam chowder, I'm almost in as bad a mood as Videl. My back is starting to ache again, and I'm still limping, but Videl hasn't made any comment concerning my well being whatsoever.

            "Here," he says, taking the clam chowder bowl from me as we approach a group of street performers, "I'll throw this out. Stay exactly where you are."

            The motion might sound kind, but his tone is anything but. I dejectedly watch him vanish in the crowd, and slouch against the pier's ropes, looking down into the dark water.

            I look up with a slight jump as a street performer approaches me. He is extremely lean and tall, so tall that I have to look up, and wearing a dark suit and bright gold tie. He has a chiseled face, with dark brown hair coiffed perfectly, in slight curls around his ears. He's wearing sunglasses that reflect my face.

            "Interested in magic, are you, little one?" he asks. His voice is slightly raspy, but other than that, perfectly ordinary and American.

            "How'd you know?" I ask, although my hand automatically reaches for Jack's jade pendant.

            "Your eyes. You're one for mystery. And a bit of danger, yes?"

            Before I can move, he snaps his fingers, and a golden bird appears in his hand. I can't help but gasp.

            He laughs a deep laugh, and whirls the bird. It vanishes, "It matches your lovely golden necklace, does it not?"

            "Yeah, I guess s- oh my God."

            I leap sideways, my eyes wide, and the man laughs, taking off his sunglasses, revealing very piercing, very green eyes.

"You are easily deceived Thea," says Loki, smiling.

uh oh.

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