Page 36 of Paladin's Hope
“Dismiss your own feelings like that. As if they’re an annoyance.”
“Mostly because they are.” Piper waved his hand at the ivory doorway. “And really, we’re stuck in a bizarre death maze where I’m feeling our way along trying to figure out what makes the dead bodies dead before it makes us dead. This isn’t really the optimal time to be delving into my feelings, is it?”
Galen laughed softly. “Well, you’ve got me there. But also we’re not going anywhere in a hurry, so we’ve got plenty of time.”
“I can think of a great many things I’d rather do with my last hours on earth.”
Galen wondered if the doctor had meant that flirtatiously. Had that been a meaningful look? Was it worth spending his last hours on earth feeling horribly awkward if it hadn’t been?
Sure, I can charge the enemy bare-handed and screaming without a qualm, but can I ask a handsome man if I can kiss him without breaking into a cold sweat? Apparently not.
“Humans could try going to sleep.”
“Sorry, Earstripe…” The gnole grumbled something in their general direction and rolled over.
“Anyway,” said Piper, more quietly, “it’s not like there’s some deep dark well of misery and torment that I’m sitting on. I’m just so tired of it all. Having to be responsible for someone else’s emotions is fine and good for friends and lovers, but as a job? Day in and day out, scared people who are either so cowed you have to tease out their symptoms or so full of bluster that you’re waiting for a kick to the head? It’s exhausting. Some people can do it. Me, I just got worn down.”
The word lovers had licked down Galen’s spine and he had to shake himself free. “So you decided to work with the dead.”
“Between that and my little trick, it seemed the best fit. The only emotions I have to deal with are mine and the occasional family of the deceased, and by the time they get to me, they’ve usually gone through the initial shock and we take refuge in courtesies.” He sighed. “Every now and again they want to yell at me because I’m telling them a story different than the one they told themselves, but somebody from the Rat is usually there to handle it. The Rat’s full of good people.”
“And yours?”
“My what?”
“Your feelings?”
“Oh, those.” Piper waved his hand, as if dismissing a mosquito. “I have them, obviously. I’m not a clockwork creature out of Anuket City. But ideally, I keep my life arranged so that it doesn’t get out of hand.”
“Even happiness? Joy?”
Piper tilted his head toward Galen, his dark eyes lighting with amusement. “How many men really suffer from a surfeit of unbridled joy in their lives?”
“I really hope somebody somewhere is,” said Galen. “Make up for the rest of us who are just muddling along, you know?”
Piper laughed. Damnation, he was attractive when he laughed. Regardless of his feelings about…well…feelings…he had no problem laughing, and Galen found himself watching the movement of the doctor’s tongue against his lower teeth and feeling quite a few things himself.
“I’m more curious about what this place was meant to be,” said Piper, obviously ready to change the subject. He waved his hand, taking in the ivory walls. “Why build this? What was it meant to be?”
“Crazy humans building a crazy thing,” muttered Earstripe. Galen knew from experience that gnoles had about fifty words that all translated as crazy, none of which actually involved mental illness, which they called head-sick. He wondered which version of crazy the gnoles considered the ancients, and how it varied from all the others.
“Possibly, but all the wonder engines seem to have a purpose, even if we don’t always know why.” Piper leaned his head back against the wall, chin tilted up. Galen’s eyes traced the long column of his throat, the dark stubble coming in around the edge of the clipped beard. He could imagine how the skin would feel against his lips, the roughness turning to smoothness lower down his neck. “Some kind of torture chamber?”
Torture chamber cut Galen’s imagination off at the ankles. He looked away. “It doesn’t feel right for one of those,” he said.
“It doesn’t?”
Galen sighed. “Have either of you ever seen one?”
“A torture chamber?” Piper shook his head. “I’ve had some bodies come in that were pretty badly treated,” he said. “But I don’t go out in the field like that.” There was a hollowness to his tone that Galen knew too well.
Earstripe sat up, abandoning the pretense of sleep. “A gnole saw a den where a human lived,” he said. “A human called himself a doctor. A human who didn’t want anyone to get better.” He paused, then said, obviously reluctantly, “Not-doctor’s den looked like bone-doctor’s den.”
Piper winced. “Was he stopped?”
“Yes. A human got away, found gnoles. Gnoles hid a human, got guard-gnole, guard-gnole brought others. Not-doctor went out window, fell.” Earstripe stared at his claws.
Galen wondered if the man had really fallen. Gnoles were much more practical in some regards than humans.