The lush, green hills stood out against the sky and sea, reflections of turquoise and clear water. Gio and Buck watched the shores of Milne Bay come into view--splendid palms on sandy shores, dotted with fishermen at work. Though chatter had been scarce to begin with, largely due to Buck's secrecy surrounding this sudden detour, any talk came to a standstill, as the GSA boys were silenced by the raw beauty of the Papua New Guinea landscape.
It also didn't help that the third man on this mission, Kengo, was bent over the rail and sea sick. "I should not have agreed to this," the sweaty, handsome sumo said, wiping his mouth and bracing himself against the side of the boat. He pated his brow with his blue, tropical patterned shirt.
Buck tore himself away from the island's spell. "Big guy, we said it was cool for you to go to Japan without us. White Tiger is gonna need help, even if he won't admit it."
Kengo answered with a groan. "I have a duty of care. As son of our big boss, Gio and I must escort you to your destination." His mouth twitched. "Even if you have not told us what the destination is."
Gio, so devoted to the Tamberly family as he was, hadn't question Buck's judgment. "You think the next Chalice is really here, eh?"
Buck said nothing. Besides, the boat had pulled up along the dock. Standing just off the ramp, parked in front of a roomy jeep, a dark skinned woman in practical clothing watched the passengers disembark. Buck locked eyes with her. She smiled and nodded at him.
This is a terrible idea, Buck thought. Every cell of his body told him this much. The boys knew by now how anxious he could get. He was open, and self-deprecating, about his intrusive thoughts and constant catastrophising. He looked down at the note in his hands, and the small baseball card attached to it.
"Dear Buck,
Daemian and I are going to Sydney. I hope I get to see koalas! I also hope I make it there alive. You know how Deadboy can be. The fact that I trust Brax, a literal demon from Hell, more than him, should tell you how I feel about things.
I'm not very good at writing words. But I know you have been through a lot, with Varla and your Dad, and I guess your sister (that's so weird to say!). I have been through a lot of changes though, myself, the past year. I never thought I'd work for one of the best spellbreaking feds. Or that I would get this so far so quickly. It almost doesn't feel weird. And honestly, it still scares me. None of these big, bad spellbreaker guys ever talk about how scary and intense the pressure is.
And nobody ever gives thanks to the guys behind the scenes either. Even though your dad brought me on, honestly...and don't tell him this...I feel like you've done so much more for me. Because of you, I'm fed. I get to travel the world. You make me look very hot on the posters and fliers...not that it's hard. You do so much for all of us. You've been a great president, and people need to tell you that more.
I know you're going on this big journey and I know it's supposed to be a secret. You don't need magick to be great, but I have given you my lucky baseball card that I carry around. As a Brooklyn boy, I'm supposed to love the Dodgers, but mostly I just thought the guy on the card was hot. Consider it my lucky charm. Give it back to me when I see you again.
I hope to see you soon.
Love,
Spike"
What did he mean by love? Buck didn't want to read too much into it. He hadn't gotten the chance to respond either. Too much on his mind.
Buck, Kengo, and Gio followed the captains command and exited off the boat. The merchants and missionaries around them all gawked. They had gotten used to the stares by now. They stood out. Fortunately, they had magick on their side (Gio and Kengo did anyways) so Buck didn't feel threatened. Much as he hated to admit it, travelling with the two giant powerhouses of the GSA was probably for the best.
"And your father does not know you're here?" Gio said, adjusting his sunglasses.
"I'm still the president of the GSA," Buck said, curt. "I can do whatever I want. And you guys didn't need to come out this far with me."
"But why would we not?" Kengo asked. "You are leader. And..." Kenog blushed. "Oh I shouldn't say this...but, I think you treat us better than your father. Sometimes."
Buck stopped. "Yeah, I know." He looked over at the woman waiting by the jeep. "Are you...?"
"Bridgette," the cheerful woman said. She looked Kengo and Gio up and down, in awe "Uh...I hope you all can fit. You look like very healthy men. The villagers might be in for a shock."
Gio and Kengo tossed each other a glance. "Sorry," Buck said. "Guys, this is Bridgette Murua. She's a travelling nurse here."
"Studying for my doctorate," she quickly added. Buck thought she could be in her early forties. "The people of the village we're going to have thank your team for the food donation. I am not sure they understand your peculiar sport...I told them it's like wrestling...but they seem interested, and gratitude is not lost on these islands." She nodded to the truck. "Well, hopefully you muscle heads don't weigh this thing down."
Still confused and wary, Gio and Kengo followed a determined (yet evasive) Buck into the truck. After a few starts, the engine roared to life. It was slow travel, but Bridgette guided them down the dirt path into the shade of the green forest.
Birds of paradise sang their songs, and the calm light and humid air put him more at ease than he had been on the boat ride over from Port Moresby. "Sorry to be annoying about it, ma'am, but you've confirmed that doctor we're looking for is in this village?"
"What was her name again?"
Buck took a deep breath. "Joanna Martin."
Brigette's eyes lit up at the name. "Oh yes, Dr. Martin is very good. Everyone likes her. She lives with the missionaries, mostly, on the hill. She cured the villager elder when he was sick, and he is fiercely protective of her. He has told the men of the village that he will cut the hand off any man who approaches her without good reason."
Kengo gulped. "She sounds...powerful."
Buck said nothing. In his pocket, he slid this thumb over Spike's lucky baseball card. It had become an unofficial prayer totem for him.
"I heard they eat people here," Gio asked, matter-of-factly.
Buck winced, and Kengo turned a deep shade of red.
Brigette laughed, musically, taking it in stride.
"A few tribes did practice ceremonial cannibalism recently, mostly funeral in nature." "Don't worry, big one. You are not on the menu."
Gio nodded in approval. "If I was, I hope I would be well prepared though."
"Okay, Gio," Buck said, quickly, "thank you for your input."
The car came to a slow stop, and Buck saw the reason right away--a massive, downed tree right in the middle of the path.
Bridgette pursed her lips. "Ah, there was a big storm last night. They must not have cleared this."
Buck tried not thinking of it as an ill omen, or worse, and excuse to turn around.
Gio suddenly hurdled over the car door, landing gingerly on the solid ground. "Ah, but Gio can handle it."
"Don't be a show-off with your muscles," Buck warned.
"Don't need muscles for this," Gio smiled. He made a slow, graceful motion with his hands, as if he was picking up an invisible box. Instead, the tree moved upwards with his command, re-rooting itself back where it had been torn the night before.
The bearded Italian turned to his shocked audience, and smiled. "The tree is very thankful to be back where it belong." He returned to the car, which lurched and rocked as the giant man squeezed into the back seat.
Buck was practically smooshed together between him and Kengo. Spike would be so jealous of me right now, he thought.
"A plant magi!" Brigette marvelled. "The elders of the village will consider you good luck." She restarted the engine (after several attempts). "Though, use caution. Some magick here is considered 'evil'. Shadow conjurers, or those who commune with spirits, are often called 'witch doctors', and regarded with suspicion...or worse."
Next to Buck, Kengo gulped, and shited uncomfortable in his seat.
The remainder of the car ride was mercifully short, leading them to a clearing comprised of a few tin houses and more traditional huts. A set of women looked up from the fields they were tending, marvelling at the size of the unusual strangers.
"People here rely mostly on subsistence farming here," Brigette explained. "Sago. Yams. Good foods with carbohydrates and sugar. Your donation will bring them some canned goods in from the Port, which are always welcome. If they offer you food--and they will do so out of respect--please decline it."
"Thank you," Buck said. Suddenly, all of his worries had shrunk with perspective. He hadn't ever considered the reality of even missing a meal, or having not enough to eat. This was, perhaps, the real world that his father had tried to hide from him for so long.
The jeep pulled up alongside one of the larger, more modern houses in the village. Men and children gathered around it, curious, but friendly.
"They're...so big!" the little ones said to each other.
"They have brought us good luck," the older men whispered.
Buck's shoulders eased up. A warm reception was a positive sign.
From somewhere inside the tin shack, Buck heard a pleasant woman exchanging words with another, in English. She spoke with an accent that Buck immediately picked up as familiar. "I put out some fresh towels on the line. Thank goodness that storm didn't cause any damage last night. And you know, I saw a rainbow this morning. I think it's going to be a good day."
Then, the woman appeared at the door to the makeshift clinic. Dark haired, with beautiful, long lashes, and watery eyes. She had come to see what the commotion was about.
"Brigette, what--" she looked up at Kengo and Gio with great confusion. But when he eyes landed on Buck, she almost gripped the door for stability.
She placed her hand over her mouth. "Oh, crap..." Her eyes shook.
Buck swallowed. Right away, Kengo and Gio knew something was up. The men and women of the village shooed the children away from the strangers, leaving the GSA crew and the woman to their privacy.
After a thousand different emotions crossed the doctor's face, she choked down a sob, holding her hands out to...
Buck embraced her, turning his head away from the others before they could see that he too had gone red face and teary.
"How...are you here?" the woman said, in disbelief. Then, she composed herself, her tone--and expression--changing. "Why are you here?"
It was enough to knock reality back into Buck, who turned to Gio and Kengo, who he knew deserved an explanation. "We...should talk inside."
The woman's eyes narrowed. "They spellbreakers?" she asked, making the word 'spellbreakers' sound like a curse word. Her accent sharpened with her pitch. "Well, you came all this way. I'm not going to turn you back. Get here and shut the door."
As Buck followed Dr. Joanna into the shack, he watched her body language shift from kindly and in-control, to annoyed and somewhat defensive. She gestured to a pitcher of water on the counter. "Well, hospitality ain't the same here as it is in Texas. The people here don't have much, but they sure as hell will offer you a lot if you let them. Maybe if you told me you were coming, I could have--"
"How the hell could I have told you when you're all the way out here," Buck stated, cutting her off.
The woman smiled. It wasn't exactly a welcoming smile. "Don't interrupt me. You-know-who always did that."
Gio's back stiffened, and Kengo made a small squeak,
Buck, however, was unbothered. "I'm sorry. I should have sent you a letter. It's just that...I'm on the way to Australia for this tournament thing, and I thought I'd--"
"So this is a spellbreaking thing," the woman said, folding her arms tightly to her (rather ample) chest. "I knew it. Sweet boy, that sport dann ruined my life, and it will ruin yours. Mark my words."
Finally, Kengo summoned the courage to breach the topic. "Umm...so does this lady know where the next Chalice is?"
Joanna looked at him, quizzically. "Chalice? What Chalice?" She shook her head. "Damn it, the boy took the air out of me and my manners must have gone with it." She shook Kengo and Gio's hand. "Joanna Martin," she said. Then, with great hesitation, she added, "But I reckon you know who I am."
Gio and Kengo smiled nervously, and backed away.
"You haven't told them?" Joanna asked Buck incredulously.
"No! Well, I uh."
"Ugh!" The woman rolled her eyes and tossed up her hands. Irritated, she walked around the table and poured herself a glass of water. "Well, Martin is my maiden name. I never got around to changing my surname. Even though I should have." She took a long drink. "There's a lot of things I should have done, I suppose..."
Kengo bit. "And your last name...miss...would be...?"
The pretty woman glared at him. Then, laughing darkly, she poured herself a glass of water. "My full name is Dr. Joanna Martin-Tamberly."
Kengo blinked. "Huh, but that's Buck and Colt's last--UUUUWHHHHAAAA!!!?"
Buck slapped his own forehead. "I want to die." He acknowledge his companions, bodyguards, employees, whatever they were supposed to be. "Yep. This is my mamma."
"First your sister," Gio said, shocked, "and now you have a secret mother too?"
Joanna raised an eyebrow. "Secret?" Then, she looked sharply at her son. "SISTER?"
Buck grimace. "Yeah, that's well...look...we have a lot to catch up on."
After staring at her son a few cold seconds, Joanna broke into derisive, amused laughter. "Sister. Goddess damn. I'm gonna kill him..."
To say the least, the next hour or so was full of awkward tension thawing into something of a normal conversation. Gio and Kengo proved mostly a polite audience (and perhaps one that had taken on more than they were expecting), while Buck and his mother caught up.
At one point in the conversation, Joanna removed a peppermint stick from a small tin in her breast pocket, and put the confection between her lips. "I don't like to smoke around the villagers," she said. "And the missionaries always give me crap for it." She rolled the candy from one corner of her mouth to the other. "So, that showgirl, eh? You know, you won't believe me, but I actually like that Varla Montes. Lot of moxie." She sighed. "And...I'm not surprised."
"I don't think he slept with her when you and dad were--"
"It doesn't matter," Joanna said, shrugging. "At some point, I stopped caring about what your daddy did." She sighed. "And didn't do. So, he made you president, eh? No surprise there. You're smart. And you're good with people. But tell me this...what's the catch?"
"How...did you know?"
"With your father, there's always an ulterior motive. If he scratches your back, you best believe he'll expect you to scratch his on command."
Buck saw the road map of his mother's journey, from his childhood to the present. Stained with tears, it started with a blue of beauty pageants. Joanna had been blessed with a brain and cursed with good looks and a father that wanted her wedded off to a man of the gentry. Colt was the heir to a farm, and though he would make a name for himself in time, he had already earned himself a more unsavoury reputation around town. High school sweethearts became unexpected spouses when Joanna found herself pregnant with Buck and Colt found himself staring down the double barrel of a shotgun if he didn't do something to remedy the situation.
Fortunately, the two were in love. Or had been. Joanna, without magick of her own, gave birth to a son who did not inherit his father's gifts. Buck had grown up knowing in his heart that this might have been the first 'crack'. By then, Colt had already made a name for himself. He was away for most of Buck's childhood.
After the divorce, Joanna had stuck around the area, just far enough, but Buck had seen his mother stay quiet, even when he knew she should have, for seventeen years. And so, when he turned 18, she ran as far as she could from the ranch...to world's end, it turned out. Buck not only understood, he encouraged her. Motherhood had been her prison. He would not see her confined on his own account.
In a sad way, perhaps, that is why the woman with the sad, pretty eyes, sitting across from an estranges son, truly loved him all the more.
But whereas Colt could spin a "I know I haven't been a great dad" speech to his son as easy as cutting a promo, Joanna didn't have to speak the equivalent out loud. "You can't expect me to be surprised, Buck."
He flinched. "At...what?"
"Your success." She smiled. "Your art. Becoming president of that damn GSA." She bit her peppermint stick in two. "Look, I just didn't want you to get hurt. Physically...or otherwise.
This was all becoming way too intense for Buck, and the last thing he wanted was to come off as weak in front of his employees and friends. He politely excused himself from Kengo and Gio, and went out the back with Joanna, onward to a path that wrapped around the hill near the missionaries. Already bewildered at the day's turn of events, the two large men shyly slipped outside, mindful of the villagers and their innocent curiosity. At Brigette's recommendation, they stopped at a sago grove, shady with emerald leaves.
Neither of the two spellbreakers was very good at conversation, and it didn't help that the one language they both understood was not their native tongue. Kengo, wiping sweat from his brow, went first.
"The people are very friendly here," he said, regarding a fallen sago plant that had already been stripped of wood and pulp.
"People are friendly everywhere," Gio said. "It is just our traditions and customs that are different."
"Yes, this is true." Kengo had never pegged Gio as the philosophical type. "Families are different too. And somewhat the same. Poor Buck. I never knew how hard it was for him."
"He is boss," Gio said. "He cannot show his true self. Plus, he is Colt's son. You know what it's like for the whole family to have expectations and give you the big pressures."
Kengo blinked. "Yes. I am Japanese."
"And I am Italian," Gio said, with a wink. "See? You are right. Families are very similar."
Through the treeline, Kengo saw a free villagers working hard on crushing the sago piths into starch to be boiled and eaten. "It must be a hard life, having to grow and make food every day. Even though the people are nice and kind here, and they make beautiful carvings and things, it would be so much better if they did not need to worry about food so much."
"Yeah. It is hard. Travelling the world; you realize how lucky we are where we were born. It is so random. We do not choose this life we are born into. Glyph or no glyph. Rich or poor...."
"Gio, you have plant magick, yes? Why do plant magi not just grow food really quickly for everyone?"
Gio sighed. "It's not that simple, my big friend. Even the best plant magi who can grow a tree in seconds...that tree will die really quickly. Magick is...weird. It is not...how would you say this...always perfectly in tune with nature. Some plant magi can put their energy into the land, though, a little bit at a time. It's a long process. I would have to stay here with these people for awhile to be able to grow anything they could actually eat. And it would shorten my life span too."
Kengo nodded, sadly. "The law of magick. Everything is an exchange. Even Spike had to get beat up and go through pain to use his powers."
Gio laughed. "Yes, but the difference is I think he likes it."
"Mmm. I wish magick could solve all the problems of the world."
"Me tool, my large friend. Me too."
Beyond the fields, in the tranquil shadows of the hillside trees, Buck walked alongside his mother. Not much had changed between them, really--she had always taken him on hikes and little day trips out of the house. Though now, with the wisdom of age and experience, Buck wondered if that was all just to put distance between them and his father.
"I still have that picture you did when you were in pre-school," Joanna said merrily. "The sponge paint one with the apple."
Buck grimaced. "Ugh, the teacher did the outline. I just did the sponge paint part."
"Well, I think it's impressive!"
"...Most of it was outside the lines."
"Always color outside the lines, Buck," Joanna said, brushing back a palm frond. "That's one thing your daddy and I could always agree on."
The birdsong filled in the gaps in the silence as they walked alongside the mission fenceline.
"If I can be honest," Joanna said, suddenly, "I'm so damn glad you were born without a glyph."
Buck couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What? Really?" It was like being told you were born with a slightly lower IQ than average.
"You know less than 30% of the population has glyphs," Joanna said. "And statistics are showing that number decrease. Why do you think the world has changed so much? We Bereft--and don't let me catch you repeating that word, Buck Tamberly--had so little power because the minority ruled us with magick. World has changed a great deal since the War. Now, don't let that make you think all magi in power are controlling and evil. That school of thought, on any side, is what leads people to war in the first place. But don't go thinking a lack of magick means you're not special. I mean, hell, look at ya!"
"I'm an artist who works out," Buck laughed. "Still...I feel like...I'm always compensating for something."
Joanna frowned. "Or...someone." She sighed. "When you were first born, I thought, 'Thank Goddess...he can't follow in his daddy's footsteps." She rolled her eyes, with a smile. "Of course, you did that thing where you do the exact opposite of what I want. But...truthfully speaking, I'm glad you did. I saw how those big men back there look at you. Natural born leader." She ruffled his hair. "That's my Buck."
"Aw, ma." This was embarrassing on multiple levels, mostly because Buck felt like breaking out into tears every five seconds. This reunion had been a long time coming.
"Can I ask...was dad really pissed when he found out I didn't have a glyph?"
Joanan looked away, into the dark of the forest. "Oh darlin', I don't want to talk ill of your dad. I washed my hands of him along time ago and I don't want--"
"It's okay," Buckl said. "Look, you can't say anything about him that will make my opinion of him worse, I promise you that."
She laughed, sardonically. "With Colton Tamberly, you'd be surprised." After a few seconds of deep thought, Joanna spoke, and carefully at that. "He...wasn't upset because you didn't have a glyph. Sure, he wanted to raise a spellbreaking dynasty...or whatever stupid, patriarchal legacy he had planned out for you. No, he was upset because he knew people would always try to compare you to him." She shrugged. "He wanted you to be your own man. Probably because your grandpa, Ox--piece of work he was--always had your dad under his thumb."
Buck's father didn't speak of his father that much, and rarely with a kind word. Growing up, Buck thought it polite not to think much of it, and respect his father's feelings. Now? He was beginning to wonder how much his grandfather's sullied touch had trickled down the family tree. An ironic thought, too, for a man who could summon the rains...
Joanna continued. "Now, I reckon the downside to that is he wanted you to be spectacular in whatever it was you did, and he had his own exact overly-controlling mind on what they should like or how you should go about it."
"Wow, when you hit the nail on the head..."
Clear eyed, Joanna looked dead ahead. "Your father's sins are lay not in abuse or scorn, they lay in negligence and callousness."
No spell could ever be as potent as a proclamation like that, Buck thought.
"I think he always assumed another kid--a brother--would inherit a glyph and take up his mantle." Joanna shook her head. "But I didn't want another kid, and one of the decent things about your dad is that he would have never pushed me to have another. I'm glad for that. That 'heir and spare' mentality would have done all of us a whole lot worse."
"Dad wouldn't think like that, would he?"
Joanna chose her words carefully. "I think...as with most of your father's vices...he doesn't do malice deliberately."
Buck had heard enough, and not wanting to indirectly follow in his dad's ways and center himself in these conversations, he directed his energy at his mother instead. Taking her hand, he asked, "And what about you?"
"What about me?"
"Are you happy?"
"Oh, Goddess yes."
"You said that quickly!"
"Because it's the Lady's truth!" She laughed. "Look at this place. I love this world. I love these people. What I do is fulfilling. It wasn't just your dad that got me down. It was your other grandpa--sorry kid, you didn't get good grandfathers--and the whole town. He wanted me to be a beauty queen. A trophy kept by a man who could provide for me. A bird in a gilded cage. Well, honey, beauty fades..."
Buck smiled. "On you it hasn't."
He hadn't seen his cool-headed mother blush in a long time. She put her arm around him. "My sweet Buck. Geez. I wish I could...spend more time or something. Look, I know I was never the best mom..."
"I mean, if you talk half the qualities of you and dad and put them together, that's at least one decent, functioning parent."
Joanna stared at him. Then, she burst out laughing. "You scamp. Look, I know you need to move on. I..." her voice caught in her throat. "Oh, Lady. I have a lot of things I'd still like to s--"
"It's okay," Buck said, trying his best not to lost it. He smiled at his mother. "Me too."
To Be Continued
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