The Co-Worker and the Missing Sister: Part Seven

     "What am I?" he asked, almost calm. His voice was still the same, which sounded odd in his new form. Engtortia was desperately upset, but Oliver seemed to be taking it... okay. He turned back to face the others. "Well, I did always want to look threatening and tough," he joked with a small smile. "I don't know what the bakery is going to say when I go to work tomorrow."

     "There's a cure!" Rose cried. "Alistair, my father created a cure to sell! You said you were going to recreate it. Please, give the cure to Oliver."

     Her old co worker was staring at Oliver in shock at what he'd ordered Fiarrold to create. Everyone had seen Bruno, had gotten used to him, but this... this was new, and startling, and he regretted it immediately. What had he done? What had he done? And now he would be thrown onto Lutari Island, to be forgotten about all over again by Rose. What exactly had gone on through his head? Did he not realise the true implications this would have on everyone? Rose hated him. She HATED him. And it was all his fault. He'd be a terrible Gelert. He was just trying to get his own back, and it had spiralled from his control, and it now he was faced with the awful realisation that this was it. He was done for.

     Fiarrold, surprisingly, cut across Engtortia's cries at Alistair and himself. He beat a fist to his chest. "Oliver is the first of my army set to overthrow Doctor Sloth and release any prisoners still there. Maybe the Space Faerie didn't save anyone. She certainly didn't save me. I had to save myself."

     Rose shook her head. "Didn't you have another dream?" she wondered softly. "Before you decided on a life of revenge, like Alistair? Don't you see, you and Alistair aren't going to get away with his, Fiarrold. If you two don't surrender yourselves and give the cure to Oliver, I'm going to have to take you by force." She prepared herself for quite a fight with this genius strong Grundo.

     But to her surprise, he answered her question. "My dream was to be a chef, with a top secret recipe, that only I and a few select others knew. It was to be the tastiest of its kind. But I had to give up on that, because I never found anything, and ten years as a slave to Doctor Sloth takes its toll on you. You wouldn't understand the labour I went through."

     "Maybe not," Oliver said, quietly, staring at his oversized hands. "Maybe we wouldn't understand. But Engtortia has the greatest secret recipe for cake I know. And I don't know, because she's never told me the secret. But I've tasted it, and it's the best cake I've ever had."

     Engtortia nodded, realising this could be a key moment in turning things around. "I will give you the recipe if you just, please, give Oliver the cure..."

     "And stop the rebellion idea," Rose added, smiling. This could just work. "Only Engtortia and I know the recipe. I myself have never actually made it, but Engtortia has and it truly is delicious." Sensing Fiarrold wavering, she added, "Imagine, opening up your own restaurant with this breakthrough of a dessert, you could open a cake shop. If you can work out potions as well as you can, surely you can work out different flavours of this chocolate cake. A fruit cake version, maybe? Iced? Sponge? You can do it, Fiarrold!"

     Engtortia hugged Oliver, not even able to get her arms fully around him, which was an odd sensation. "Oh, thank you, Oliver," she whispered. "I didn't even give my cake a thought." She raised her voice, speaking to Fiarrold: "You can have it, and I will never tell anyone about the recipe. I promise."

     Fiarrold seemed astonished. "I... you would – do that? Make me this cake!" he ordered, not quite able to believe in it just yet.

     So Engtortia set to work, not bothering to question why there was a kitchen with all facilities down here in this basement along with the potions, and made the cake in no time. She cut off a slice for Fiarrold, and anxiously handed it over to him on a plate. This was a make or break moment. If he liked it – he wouldn't continue with his army idea. If he didn't – all hope of changing his mind was lost. Everyone held their breath, though Rose kept an eye on Alistair, who was still just staring at Oliver, then at his hands, and trembling. She was concerned, but she had to sort out this matter first. Just in case, she poised herself for a fight, and wished for a miracle.

     Fiarrold inhaled the aroma of the chocolate deeply, relaxing. "Mmm," he mumbled, already enjoying just the smell. "If this is good enough, I can continue my dream," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. And then he took a large bite, hungrily.

     There was a silence as he chewed, then swallowed. Oliver, meanwhile, turned back to the mirror, sure that Fiarrold would like the cake. He looked at himself for a long time, and found himself not minding how he was now. Perhaps he could live with it. But then again, perhaps not.

     "Delicious." Fiarrold subsided. He insisted he would get his revenge on Dr Sloth one way or another, but he wouldn't try anything like this again. He also polished off the rest of the cake himself, grinning gleefully. He was pleased indeed with this recipe, and tucked the sheet of paper with it written on protectively in his top pocket. No one would ever see this again, he decided. It would stay with him forever. Now, keeping to his word, he rushed to get the cure. He seemed anxious about it though as he handed it over to Oliver who took it graciously. However, Oliver hesitated as he held the second potion. No one could understand it apart from him, not even Engtortia. It was a precious childhood memory of his, that made him stop and think. Did he actually want to take this drink? And go back to being meek, and mild, and shy? Or did he want to become someone new? Who cares if people were scared of him? If they got to know him, they were worthy friends. If they insulted him, he could sort it out because he would be strong and fierce and dominating, for once.

     Oliver was young, going to school, when it happened. An older Grundo pushed him over, and emptied his school bag all over the path. Books, an apple, and various pens and pencils spilled and rolled across the area. This bully laughed, coldly, and told Oliver to stand up for himself. As Oliver tried to get up again, he pushed him once more. Then he picked up the apple Oliver had intended to eat at lunch and threw it at a nearby tree so it smashed into mush.

     This happened every day for a year. Oliver did nothing, closed his feelings away, though he would cry at night sometimes. His parents asked what was wrong, but he ignored their kind words. They started to wonder why he wasn't inviting friends back. He told them it was because they lived far away, but he was lying. It was because of the bully, telling everyone untrue things. People hated him.

     He couldn't stick up for himself. He was too little and weak. The bully told him this himself. Why couldn't he grow a bit more? Get stronger? Or even just speak?

     Oliver never said a word, not when he was younger. He was too scared.

     Now, he let the bottle fall from his grip, and crash onto the ground. As the potion poured out, forming a puddle on the ground, the others couldn't believe he had just done that. Engtortia's mouth was hanging open and even Rose's eyes had widened. Fiarrold smiled almost knowingly, while Alistair seemed even more worried now. Oliver had to reassure them of his decision.

     "I'm sorry, Engtortia," he started, then stopped. "No. I'm not sorry. I just don't want to go back to how I was. I will be fine like this. Bruno is used to it, isn't he? Why not me? Finally, I won't look... weak."

     "Weak?" Engtortia repeated, but let it go after seeing Oliver shake his head just once.

     Rose was talking to Alistair and Fiarrold while this was going on. "Both of you do realise that King Skarl will have to deal with you. Fiarrold, you've at least shown some remorse, so –"

     "How can you say that?" Alistair whispered, speaking for the first time since Oliver transformed. "I just wanted to show there was something I could do better than you in our line of work. You always had to be the good one, and it got to me so much. Now, looking at Oliver, I regret my actions more than words can say. I don't know what to say, how to apologise, but I know now what to do." He brushed past Rose, and stood at the table where the potions were all lined up. He sighed, looking at his years of work. What was this for? Money? Would he really have been happy with that? No, he wouldn't have. This was all just a big, crazy mistake. So he sliced his arm across, pushing each and every bottle onto the floor. "I will clean this up myself, Fiarrold," he murmured.

     There was a stunned silence for a minute or two, as everyone looked at the broken flasks of potion. Rose suddenly hugged Alistair, despite her anger with him. "Thank you," she muttered into his ear, "for understanding that this was wrong."

     Then they all glanced around at each other. "Now what?" Engtortia puzzled. Rose exhaled slowly and deeply, and took action.

     * * *

     King Skarl told them his decision about their punishment. They'd apologised, accepted what they'd done was stupid, and selfish, and while Oliver had been affected, they did offer the cure to him, which he rejected. Fiarrold was to count every coin won from Double or Nothing every day for six months. He gasped at this, but after a bit of grumbling agreed before an even worse punishment was issued. Alistair was to have the same, except count the money lost, but for a year, seeing as how he was the one who came up with the entire plan in the first place and convinced Fiarrold he would be fulfilling his dream. King Skarl almost sent them both to Lutari Island, but decided against it. While Engtortia and Rose's parents denied being a part of any of their plan, at least Fiarrold and Alistair admitted they were guilty.

     "You two have gotten off lightly," King Skarl informed them, coldly. "Alistair, you can never be an agent again now that you have tried to do something bad. I don't know what you were trying to achieve but you failed."

     "No..." Alistair murmured, thoughtfully. "I want to be a poet, I've decided."

     Rose exchanged a glance with him, grinning. She added playfully, "If either of you two try to run away, I'll be catching you myself!"

     The King laughed, deep and throaty. He leaned forward in his chair, directing his gaze at Engtortia this time. "Engtortia, you were very helpful in solving this matter. Would you be interested in becoming an agent? You could work with your sister on cases. Oliver, too..."

     Oliver and Engtortia both shook their heads. Oliver was going to stay at his bakery, selling bread in his new body, knowing he'd have a lot of explaining to do. Alistair had given him another bottle of cure to keep, just in case he changed his mind. Oliver persisted that he wouldn't, but took it anyway, tucking it into his pocket. Meanwhile, Engtortia announced she was going to try and become a detective, start up her own business, solve small matters first, then move onto the bigger things as she gained the trust of the public. Her eyes sparkled; yes, this was her dream still. She'd resign from medicine tomorrow, always having it as a back up if things went wrong, but this was it for now. She was going for it! She never would have if she hadn't found out the truth.

     Alistair and Fiarrold were also ordered to stay in the castle, in the most uncomfortable rooms, during their six months or year with their punishment, not allowed further than Meridell, and only during the day could they leave the palace. After bidding goodbye to King Skarl, the night time stars glittered like a blanket of sequins stitched just right. The group were to part ways, but as Rose turned, Alistair caught her sleeve and faced her. Oliver left tactfully, wishing Engtortia and Rose a safe journey home, then was gone. Engtortia was still having trouble recognising the big beast as Oliver but when he spoke it was fine, because it sounded just like him. She would get used to it, eventually. She hung back slightly, so as not to listen to Rose and Alistair's conversation.

     He hugged her, closely, breathing in her own scent, a faint mix of perfume and leaves and rain. It wasn't a bad odour by any means. When they broke apart, he mumbled, "I really am sorry for everything. I will make it up to you one day. I really will."

     "I know you will." Rose smiled. "You've come to your senses, at least!" Her smile faded. "It'll take a while to forgive you – but I will definitely keep in contact with you now, and visit you lots at the palace. We're best friends, remember? Forever."

     Alistair swallowed. "Rose," he whispered. "I really..."

     "Really what?" Rose asked, eyebrows raised.

     But her old friend shook his head, shrugging. "I'll tell you another time." Then he turned and walked away without looking back. When he slipped past a corner, Rose linked arms with her sister, and they left the castle.

     Fresh evening breeze hit them. Engtortia couldn't help smiling. She'd never felt so relaxed in her entire life, except perhaps when she was a baby. The case was solved. Maybe she really could be a detective. Alistair and Fiarrold owned up, took responsibility, and the whole thing brought herself and Rose much closer together. She had a feeling they were going to get along fine now. She also, however, couldn't help the one tiny thought left in her brain too, though. As she strolled casually down the path, she spoke the wondering in her mind.

     "Imogen, you said we would talk after all of this was over. When are you visiting Morgan and James again? I..." Engtortia took a deep breath. "I want to see them too."

     Rose stopped walking. Her hair flew around in the wind, in wild, uncontrollable curls of ebony silk. She rubbed her unique eyes and sighed. "I was wondering when this was going to come up," she admitted. "Now that you know the secret, which I never thought you'd take so well, I think you can visit them. But..." Here Rose was serious, holding up a finger. "Remember what they did. Just like we can't forget what Alistair and Fiarrold did, we can't forget these two either. But we can give them a second chance."

     "Do you trust them?" Engtortia wondered.

     Here, Rose hesitated. "I forgive them," she replied, simply. Then she started to walk again, and the two walked together until they reached their home, the rifts in their relationship sealed.

The End

Author's Note: Wow, can I just say, if this makes it into the Neopian Times, I had such fun writing it! For once I planned something out completely, without getting bored or lost with the plot. While I changed a few things from my original plan, without it I couldn't have made this story. If you've read this all the way through, or even read just a part, thank you. Here's to a sequel!