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The plans must have been coming along nicely and two ships had limped back to port after an unexpected spell of foul weather. It continued pouring its misery over Ketterdam, but the ships were in harbor now and their cargoes would more than cover the cost of repairs. That misery drumming its raindrops on the roof and plunking them like a jagged melody into the canal made no impact on Jan Van Eck. His coffers were incrementally fattened and he, consequently, was incrementally pleased.
Incrementally pleased was Wylan’s father’s version of ecstatic.
Wylan took the chance to approach Jan in his office. Familiar with the man’s opinion of time-wasting and distractions, he got right to the point: “Father, I’d like to go to the countryside.”
Jan looked up sharply.
“You haven’t been to the lake house in years,” he said.
Wylan was aware of that. He blushed faintly but refused to lower his gaze. They went when he was small, sometimes, to escape the stifling wet heat of a Ketterdam summer. At least until his father said he no longer had time for such distractions. Wylan needed to focus on his studies.
He swallowed and said, “I want to visit my mother’s grave.”
Jan regarded Wylan for a long moment. It was all Wylan could do not to look away. He didn’t, though. He met his father’s steady gaze.
“And how would you make your way to the countryside?” Jan asked.
Wylan had never been to his mother’s grave before, but he had been to the lake house. Not for a while, admittedly. Still, he only wanted to see her… to bring her flowers. To say goodbye.
For the longest time, Wylan told himself it was okay he couldn’t visit her, because she would be in the cemetery with her parents and grandparents and other relatives. She wouldn’t be lonely. That would have been terrible, for his mother to be lonely, and he remembered sunshine making the stones gleam.
Maybe she missed him as much as he missed her, but she was with family in the sunshine.
“I’m sure I could manage,” he said. The surety was draining from his tone. “I’m nearly a man now.”
Jan sighed. “You are nearly grown, Wylan,” he corrected. “You will never be a man. Surely even you can understand the distinction.”
Wylan’s jaw clenched. He understood that his mind… that some parts of his mind were… stuck. Were underdeveloped. He understood that it didn’t matter how apt he might prove at sums or figure drawing or any other, not when he could not master the simplest of tasks, only…
“I want to say goodbye before the wedding.” The words came out strong, not an easy feat against Jan Van Eck, and Wylan was proud of that. And ashamed to be proud of that.
“And what,” asked Jan, “has my wedding to do with you?”
Wylan’s mouth opened, but no sounds came from it. Not this time. He thought… he didn’t know. He simply assumed—Jan’s wedding must have to do with him. He would have a new stepmother, after all.
“There’s really no need for you to concern yourself with matters of matrimony. A boy of your limited abilities is unfit even for breeding stock.”
The insult flared through him. It was one thing to be a perpetual child. Breeding stock, as though he were no more than one of the swine his father saw as assets on paper. Some assets were worth overseeing, but there was no reason to come too close where slaughteryard fodder were concerned.
“Father,” Wylan objected. Maybe he wasn’t overly talented, but he was Jan’s son…
“My time, unlike you, is valuable, and currently being wasted. I have instructed you before to think before you speak, have I not?”
“You… well… yes, but…”
The slap caught him on the side of the head. The world rocked. Something whined shrilly.
“You may thank me for this reminder by leaving swiftly.”
“The Imp,” Jesper said, pointing.
“The Imp?” Wylan followed Jesper’s finger, but he didn’t see it. The puffy cloud looked… vaguely humanish, except the misshapen head and missing legs…
“Extra bulges for the goggles. He’s turned so you can’t see the second horn.”
That made absolutely no sense, not where the horns would have to be for the Imp’s goggles to how that way at the edges of his head! Wylan kept his thoughts to himself.
“I see it,” he lied. Well, it was partly a lie. He saw the cloud…
Wylan and Jesper lay on their backs, enjoying the broad lawn at the back of the Van Eck mansion and searching out shapes in the clouds. Or disagreeing on shapes in the clouds! Neither mattered. It was a fun way to spend a nice afternoon.
Wylan spotted a cloud he thought looked like a dragon, sort of. Would Jesper like that, though? It didn’t matter that Jesper said he wanted to hear what Wylan was thinking—at least not enough for Wylan to offer his thoughts easily. Too many people had told him otherwise on too many occasions.
Jesper pointed to another cloud and announced, “Two pigs humping.”
Wylan clapped a hand to his mouth to stifle the spluttering, laughing squeaks struggling to burst out. He didn’t even know how to reply to that! Once he had hold of himself, he looked around to make sure Marya wasn’t nearby to hear it!
It was a few moments before either of them spoke again. Wylan spent the time looking for good shapes, but mostly saw blobs and trees and dragons.
“Jesper?”
“Hm?”
“What happens when men die in Hellgate?”
“Tossed in the sea for the sharks, I think,” Jesper replied. “Unless they have family to claim them. Why?”
In a way, Wylan told the truth.
He pointed up at the cloud and said, “That one. It reminds me of my father.”
Jesper took a moment to realize which cloud Wylan meant. When he did, he burst out laughing at Jan Van Eck two pigs humping.