(advent) December 13

Yesterday’s episode.  My migraine is finally gone, so it’s time to get caught up – after my game today.

Saturday, December 13

“Good morning, mistress. Might I purchase some of the famous CrossWinds Books cookies from you today?”

The boyish voice floated through Schrodinger’s ears as he dozed by the cool iron stove, accompanied by a dry, dusty smell that made his nose twitch and woke him from his nap. He raised his head, looking for the source, but couldn’t see anything in the tea room. Whoever it was must be in the front room.

“Well, Molly’s not here, but I can definitely see what she has boxed up.” DC’s voice got louder as she spoke, which meant the clerk was coming into the tea room. Whoever was with her was coming along too.

Schrodinger stayed where he was, his eyes focused on the entrance to the tea room. The dry, dusty smell grew, and he wasn’t surprised to see Caliban’s servant follow DC into the room.

“But where is Miss Molly?” the servant asked diffidently.

“Oh, she’s out having lunch with her fiance,” DC answered, smiling at Schrodinger as they passed him. “He came down and whisked her off for a special lunch.”

“Love is a beautiful thing,” the servant agreed, not looking at the CrossCat directly. “She is lucky.”

“Yes, she is.” DC said. “Wait here, and I’ll go see what she has for sale.”

“Can I not see the kitchen?” the servant asked. “I would love to see the place where she makes her magic.”

The kitchen is off-limits to customers, Schrodinger said sharply. It’s against health rules.

DC gave him a quick look, but nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid so. Wait here, please.” She went into the kitchen, leaving Schrodinger and the servant to look at each other.

The boy (he couldn’t be more than 14, if he was human – Schrodinger wasn’t sure on that point) looked around the room, not meeting the CrossCat’s eyes. Schrodinger, for his part, sat down on his bed, not moving forward as he might normally. There was something wrong with this whole thing.

He noticed the servant had one hand in his pocket, holding on to something. His money? Perhaps. But why was he so nervous?

Why are you here? Schrodinger asked him quietly. It’s not just to buy cookies.

“What do you mean?” the servant said, still not looking at him. “My master wished for cookies from the bakery.”

There are bakeries in Stumpleton, Schrodinger said. Your master has a personal chef with him. Why are you here?

“Because my master wished for cookies from the bakery here,” the servant said, and the hand in his pocket twitched. “I must do as I am ordered.”

And what else were you ordered to do? Schrodinger was sure there was something else going on. Leave something in Molly’s kitchen, perhaps?

The servant flinched just a little, but didn’t say anything. Schrodinger was going to say something else, but DC came out of the kitchen with a box in her hands, and the moment was gone. “Molly has gingerbread cookies,” she said. “Will your master like that?”

“Of course.” The servant handed over a small pouch. “Please to give Mistress Molly my master’s regards, as well.”

Schrodinger waited until he was gone, then he went over to DC. What else is in the pouch?

“What do you mean?” DC asked, picking the pouch up from where she’d laid it on the counter. “It just had money in it.” She held it out to him. “See?”

As soon as it came near him, Schrodinger could smell magic. Hot, dusty, heavy air came from the pouch, and he could almost hear Caliban’s voice, wheedling and cajoling. Without thinking, he grabbed the pouch from DC’s hands and ran out the front door.

“Schrodinger, what are you doing?”

DC’s voice was lost as he tore down the street, the pouch clamped in his jaws. His gums were starting to burn from the magic by the time he made it to the harbor, but he didn’t falter.

Goldie was on guard duty, but he didn’t challenge Schrodinger as the CrossCat ran up the gangway – he just stepped aside and shouted, “Open the Capt’n’s door!”

One of Pavel’s sailors jumped up and yanked open the door to Pavel’s quarters, startling both Pavel and Jack. Schrodinger ran in and dropped the pouch on the floor, then wheezed, Jack, can you destroy this?

“What is it?” the spirit asked, then hissed as he felt the magic from it. “Where did you get this?”

Caliban left it for Molly, Schrodinger replied, lying down, his sides heaving. He sent one of his servants to buy cookies. Paid with money in that.

“Good thing you got it away from the store,” Jack said, studying the pouch. “Are you okay?”

My mouth hurts, Schrodinger admitted. And I could hear Caliban talking.

Jack left the pouch and knelt down in front of Schrodinger. “Let me see,” he said gently.

The CrossCat opened his mouth, and Jack probed with surprisingly gentle hands. “I can fix this,” he said finally. “If you will permit me.”

Schrodinger blinked. Of course. Thank you.

Jack laid fingertips on each side of Schrodinger’s inflamed gums, and in a moment, a cool feeling, like a fall rain, washed over him, sweeping away the dry, hot inflammation. After a minute or so, his mouth felt better.

Thank you. Schrodinger said, purring. Can you take care of the pouch too?

“Absolutely.” Jack surprised Schrodinger again by stroking his head. “He didn’t leave anything else, did he?”

No, I kept him in sight the entire time. But he wanted to.

Jack looked at Pavel. “We’ll need to talk to Molly and Drew,” he said, and the pirate nodded. “It looks like Caliban is done playing nice.”

Originally published at The words of Valerie Griswold-Ford. You can comment here or there.