Page 107 of Nocte
“Bye,” I tell her as she skips out into the sun.
Then I turn my attention to the woman. By now, I’ve seen enough of the furtive figures come in and out to know my role. Stand here. Smile. Wait for them to give me a name.
She doesn’t. Huddled in a brown coat, she twists her fingers around her graying black hair. Her dark eyes dart to and fro. Almost tentatively, she finally approaches the counter. Rather than speak, she eyes the surface of the counter and waits.
“I… Name please?” My voice sounds so high-pitched. Despite two days of serving customers, I’ve rarely spoken to anyone. Anyone but the Lord Master, Day, the inhabitants of the safe house and Colleen.
The woman doesn’t seem to hear me. She continues to twirl her hair around and around. Then, she places a trembling hand on the counter. Cupped against the palm is a tiny object that she leaves behind, her gaze glued to it, hollow cheeks gaunt with tension.
“I need that fixed,” she says in a thready whisper. She nods to the object: beautiful and small. A bright blue bulb affixed to a slender white handle. “Now, please.”
I stammer. “Um, name please?”
She barely looks up from the object. “J. Green.”
I crouch below the counter and open the cupboard. Reach inside and scan the brown bags piled inside.J. Green. J. Green.
I look and look.
“I’m sorry,” I say, rising to my feet. “I don’t see anything for that name?—”
“I need you to fix it!” The woman lunges for my arm. “Please! It’s just a small little rattle. I need to feel the happiness again. Please!”
“That is enough!” The bellowing voice comes from the doorway connecting the shop to the safe house. Altaris stands there, but suddenly his green eyes aren’t charming, neither is his voice. “You were warned,” he says while advancing on the woman.
She snatches her rattle from the counter and huddles in his shadow.
“Three times is the limit. You have exceeded it. You need to go.” He snaps his fingers, startling the woman into looking up. Their eyes meet—his vibrant and piercing, hers sad and bloodshot with unspent tears.
I watch in morbid fascination. It feels wrong. Yet I can’t turn away.
Something is happening to both Altaris and the woman. He looms larger while she seems to deflate. Her hands fall limply to her sides. The tension leaves her small body, making her stand taller. The haggard, pained expression on her face is replaced by a blank, empty smile.
And Altaris lords over her, speaking in a voice that resonates with more power than the Lord Master themself. “You lost your way,” he tells her. “You are lost. Turn around and leave. You will never return to this place again.”
“Yes,” the woman says with her dreamy smile. Then she turns and leaves, her rattle clutched limply in one hand.
“What did you do to her?” I ask as the bell above the door tolls. The sound is mockingly cheerful in contrast to how I feel. Cold all over.
Altaris shrugs and runs his hands along the front of his purple jacket. “That was me taking care of a pesky repeat customer. Next time anyone comes in without an order to pick up, you call for me or Poppy. Now where on earth has that girl gone?”
He storms off, flicking imaginary lint from his clothing.
Another customer arrives, but they follow the same unspoken script the others had. After they leave, another enters. As I fish their order from the cupboard, the door swings open and Poppy rushes in.
“I’m so sorry!” she exclaims, her red hair covered by a bright green hood. “I didn’t mean to be late. I had an unexpected detour to make—oh, Daisy, this way, darling!” She waves frantically to beckon another figure who stands resolutely in the doorway.
Slight and petite, the woman wears a similar jacket to Poppy’s but in bright pink with the hood drawn haphazardly over her long, straggly hair. It too is also a shade of pink, but the color is patchy. Unnatural. Swatches of white-blond hair peek through, every bit as brilliant as Caspian’s.
But, if possible, her eyes are even emptier. Unchecked, her hood slips even further back from her face. As a result, a sizzling sound emanates from her, reminiscent of the sound a log would make when tossed onto a roaring fire. Caught in a strip of sunlight, the tip of her button nose is quickly turning red.
“Oh dear!” Poppy rushes toward her and gently steers her inside.
Unbothered, the customer before me places their payment on the counter, takes their paper bag and leaves.
“Poppy, what on earth?” Altaris’ voice rings out from the hallway though he doesn’t appear.
“I’m sorry! Daisy got out again. Luckily Scythe tracked me down and we were able to bring her back without another…incident.” She herds Daisy forward toward the safe house entrance. “Go inside, darling. Back to the basement with Ginni. That’s where your duties are, remember?”