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The carriage stopped and while everything in the world tempted Life to just jump out of it and run to look at what surrounded him, he stayed in his seat and waited as patiently as he could; he was, after all, an adult, and he had to behave like one if he wanted to be taken seriously after all. Alexander got out first, and invited him to follow, looking at him thoughtfully.

 

-Wait.

 

He climbed onto the carriage and searched for something for a moment, mumbled some satisfaction and stepped out, putting a black bowler on Life’s head, stepping back and nodding, satisfied.

 

-That should do. Now come on, let’s go.

 

He started walking away and for a moment Life took the hat in his hands to take a look at it, smiled, put it back on his head and followed. So many ladies and gentlemen were gathered around and, he noticed, a few of them were younger than he was. He felt a sort of pride in seeing that he was someone’s elder, he who was so used to always being the youngest wherever he walked.

Soon they were entering a rather large house, even by the young man’s standards; and while they were not exactly offered a tour of the mansion, they were soon led to a large ballroom and on the scene in front were a few items that he couldn’t see quite clearly from where he stood. They had been given numbers fancily written down on a piece of red cardboard upon entering, that they had tied to their suits. He noticed quite a few gentlemen around them had fresh flowers in their breast pockets and Life looked at them with a sort of inspired spark in his eye and decided that it was a marvellous idea and that he should start doing exactly that starting on the next day.

He was brought back to reality by his brother-in-law’s hand on his shoulder, and he looked at him only to notice that someone was on the scene and coughed loudly to catch everyone’s attention.

 

-So how does any of this work, Alex?

-Simple, my lad; the man there will show items on the front and if you’re interested in buying them you make a sign.

 

He showed him the different signs he could do; one to add to the current price, and one to double it. Knowing he had a fair amount of money under his father’s name, Life knew he could buy something that fancied his interest here and that made it all the more interesting. By the time he had memorized the hand gestures, there was a sale going on already and he couldn’t believe his ears and he turned back to whisper to the older gentleman, slightly concerned.

 

-Why is that man talking so quickly?

-Well, how does that make you feel?

-Nervous, I’d say. It’s unsettling.

-Well, that’s exactly what he wants. If you’re nervous and in a hurry, you don’t think twice.

 

He gave him a mysterious smile and Life seemed to catch on his drift. So basically people were spending money in here, crazy amounts of money, under the impression that if they didn’t hurry up the opportunity would slip between their fingers.

He decided to watch on for the first sales before he did any moves, to make sure he grasped how any of this worked; that, and nothing had picked his curiosity anyhow. All sorts of things had been sold, from frames with beautiful portraits, to jewelry and silverware. Some were sold ridiculously low, some really high, and so far Alexander hadn’t lifted his hand a single time.

 

-And here we have this marvellous Elizabethan rapier, a sword that has been passed down for generations in a certain noble family until they fell in the recent war against China…

 

Life glanced up at the mention of the weapon and his eyes lit up at its beauty. The man started the bid and, deciding that he should try to live a little, he raised his hand proudly to show interest. His mentor glanced at him with a smile and a gleam into his eyes, but quickly enough someone outbid him. He felt disappointed for a moment and hesitated, and a nudge in his sides determined him to try again; and once more he was pushed out of the game by the same man.

At that point the lad started to feel very frustrated indeed and while he tried to look into the crowd to see who was that man, didn’t notice that while he wasn’t paying attention to the auction anymore, his brother-in-law was trying to win it for him, not without laughing under his breath.

Not caring about the actual object anymore, or maybe a sort of pride kicked in somewhere into his heart, but as it turned out Life started making his way into the crowd in hopes of finding this gentleman who kept on outbidding him. Upon realizing his nephew was gone, Alexander stopped bidding on the sword and the other man won the item.

Having no more clues to go on to now that the fight was over, and seeing as he was now lost in the middle of a lot of strangers, Life decided to simply wait for the auction to be over and find his way back once people started getting out. It wasn’t like he was afraid he’d be left behind or that he needed to be constantly watched over anyway, so he kept on listening and decided to wait once again to see if an item that picked his fancy showed up again, forgetting all about his earlier irritation.

Finally some time later in the evening he had managed to actually win something at a fair price; a lovely map, made by a sailor’s hand and as soon as he had laid his eyes on it he had wanted it. Not only did it remind him of these adventure books about pirates he’d read as a kid, but it was truly a work of art, something that would look simply wonderful if framed properly and put on a wall.

By now a good chunk of those who were present had left, and a few others had come in. There was something peculiar about all of them, but Life couldn’t exactly put his finger on it.

 

-Most of them are alchemists, you know.

 

He thought his heart was going to stop and he turned around sharply to see Alexander standing behind him. He left out a sigh of relief, a hand on his chest.

At first he tried to wonder why they would come here and then remembered what he had circled in the paper that morning. Did people really believe an elixir could give them eternal life, he wondered? Or at the very least, live longer. In both cases the young man didn’t feel like it was a very realistic thing to come up with.

 

-The reason we’re here if for the next few items, my dear. Most of them have come here only for that; the auction itself is merely a cover for it.

-So this sort of thing is normal then? You’ve come here before?

-Yes, and this is where I met your brother, even.

 

He gave him a curious glance and the red-eyed gentleman chuckled.

 

-Well, not here in London obviously. But in your hometown, too, if you’re willing to dig a little, you can find the hints and clues and find yourself in a similar event.

 

He pat the lad’s head, making the hat fall over his eyes for a moment, before giving his attention back to the front. Life wondered what he had meant, but he felt like he wouldn’t get any answer were he to ask; and now that the item Alexander had circled in the paper that morning had been announced, he knew better than to bother him as he bid on it.

Instantly, however, just as he had experienced himself earlier, the same man as before doubled the offer for the elixir. Alexander apparently didn’t let this get to him and he, too, doubled the offer; only to be once again be outclassed by someone else. They were about eight to try and win it and as the price went up and up, to numbers very scary indeed to the lad’s ears, his brother-in-law was then fighting one on one with the mysterious gentleman.

On and on the price raised, and raised, and quite frankly it was about five times the amount that Life would have been ready to spend on anything, so he assumed this either worth a whole lot of money; that, or his mentor had fallen into the trap set by the fast-talking man… or his pride. Whatever the case, however, the two stubbornly kept on raising the price on and on and at some point it started to even look sort of childish. Childish like two kids trying to win an argument, and upon seeing that they’re not winning, start saying as much nonsense as they can just to shut the other up; instead here they were talking with numbers and money.

By then the audience was mostly silent, save from the gasps every time one of them made a new offer, taking longer and longer with each price raise before they’d say anything. When finally the price became too crazy and Alexander won, there seemed to be some sort of murmur of respect all around the crowd.

Well, Life surely hoped this elixir wasn’t a scam like he expected it to be, because that would make it a very costly one, just to take a chance that it wasn’t. The man who had made up that potion must have been a crazy rich genius.

A dripping sound close by indicated that one of the pipes was leaking. Again. He’d have to find it and fix it, later. Right now he was at the good part in his science-fiction novel and wasn’t ready to put it down. He was sitting quite uncomfortably in his chair, in the cold and humid basement, surrounded by the sounds of steam machines and boiling liquids from his lab equipment. But his experiment still hadn’t woken up yet, so there was nothing that he felt like doing.

And for all he knew, he might never wake up at all. But he had hope; something felt right about today, just like something had felt right about many days in the last years, days which had seen nothing new going for them. Maybe he was just going crazy; that’s what you get for living isolated and working with chemicals for so long. He did have a few rats and other small animals, but they were mainly tools to him. But right now, he was reading; not philosophizing on his own life.

A low sound resonated through the entire building and he lifted an eyebrow. Visitors were rare. He checked his pocket watch and pondered whether or not to go and see who it was when the bell rang again. With a sigh he got up and dropped his book, slowly undertaking the harsh task of going through all these stairs. The person at the door was growing impatient.

 

-Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.

 

He yawned and, feet plugged into slippers and hands into his lab coat’s pockets, he opened the door without undoing the lock. Outside was a black woman he had seen before, one of the Wilkes’s servants. Last time he had seen her was at the funeral.

 

-What, did the old geezer die?

-No, but he requested you come and see him immediately.

-What, why?

 

She gave him a blank look that he guessed as orders, that’s all. He grumbled a bit and closed the door. Sunset was coming, he didn’t feel like going to see the old man. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to go to sleep early. On the door some vigorous knocks could be heard as the woman was very obviously displeased about having a door closed on her.

He came back with a small pouch he grabbed on his desk and, once again, opened the door without bothering to undo the lock.

 

-Give him that. Should keep him quiet until Friday. I’m busy right now, I can’t come and see him.

-Pardon me sir, but he sounded quite urgent about it.

-If he was, he would have been calling me all week.

-He did, but your phone is disconnected.

 

He knew that old man was probably making a fuss about nothing anyway so he waved his hand in annoyance.

 

-No matter. Give him this and be gone before I lose my temper.

 

And without any further wait, he closed the door once again on her nose and this time ignored her every complain. He made his way to the kitchen, grabbed a piece of cheese on the mess of his counter, took out part of it that was starting to turn white and fed it to one of the caged rats on his way to the basement and by the time he made it to the lab, his snack was fully eaten.

He was about to go back to reading when he noticed something moving catching his eye and he realized the man was now sitting on his bed, the tubes still plugged into his veins. His long brown hair was covering his glazed eyes, but he lifted his head slightly when the doctor hurried to his side, grabbing a light on the way. Well, at least he could hear!

 

-I want to smoke.

 

And despite the awfully low and rough voice, he hadn’t turned mute either. Of course asking to smoke was the first thing he was going to ask! He ignored his demand and, once by his side, started inspecting him, starting by checking his eyes and ears, to see if everything was in order.

 

-You young fool! Do you even have the slightest idea of what you’ve done?

 

Relief managed to find its way through his frustration for a small moment when he could confirm that he seemed to be perfectly fine. His senses seemed to be working, as well as his reflexes, but he would need to make more tests later. But the man gave him a blank blue stare and he wondered if his already unstable mental state hadn’t taken a hit.

 

-Do you remember anything?

-Anything of what?

 

He grabbed a cigarette from his coat and lit it from one of the fires heating up his test tubes, took in a deep gulp and blew it away, looking at his subject. He looked skinny under his thin clothes, awfully skinny, but that wasn’t surprising. He seemed to have grown a little too, but maybe that had to do with the fact that he hadn’t seen him awake for a long time. He was surprised he had managed to even sit up with the little strength he must have had at that moment.

 

-I don’t see much of anything, do you have my glasses?

-There, on the counter next to you. Now, tell me what you know. Do you even know your own name and where you live?

-What are you, an idiot? You know who I am, Rhys. I believe I asked to smoke, too.

 

Well, at least his brain seemed to be functioning, now that he had his glasses on his nose. But Rhys’s irritation merely grew.

 

-Now, be a good boy and tell me what happened before you fell in a coma.

-Coma…?

-Don’t play innocent with me. You played a dangerous game, you can’t hide it. Covering up for you was hard enough!

 

The man seemed confused and looked at his tail after the doctor pointed it to him. It was completely black, and upon noticing he frowned and grabbed it.

 

-I need to wash my tail.

-That won’t do.

 

He threw his stub on the floor and walked briskly towards him, grabbing the tail tip and rubbing on it; nothing changed.

 

-Your white is gone; gone, you hear me? And you lost four years of your life. Four years! What in the world did you do, Arthur? You’ve been greedy, haven’t you?!

-I don’t get a word you’re saying!

 

He threw a hand on his arm in a violent attempt to push him away; but in his weakened state, all he managed to do was shakily grab it in what seemed like a feeble call for help. Insulted by his own state, he threw himself on the floor and fell to his knees. His tail bristled in confusion and the doctor felt some satisfaction grow inside of him.

 

-There’s nothing you can do to me in your state, so you better do what I say! If it wasn’t for me, you’d be dead by now!

 

A cold glare welcomed him.

 

-If you wanted me dead, you had plenty of time to do it. This is your own choice, I don’t owe you anything. You don’t know your place!

-I don’t know my place! What do you have, young man? Laying on the floor like that, like some piteous weakened being. You’re dead to the world; dead! Your rank, your name, they’re gone. Even the white on your tail to prove it!

 

They exchanged furious and cold glares for a long moment and he was starting to wonder if he’d ever learn anything out of that ungrateful tramp. But then he looked away and weakly got up to his feet. He suddenly looked defeated.

 

-I’d like to go outside.

 

Surprise struck the scientist so well at first that he wasn’t sure how to respond. He had completely forgotten about this. He sighed and, without a word, went to the younger one’s help.

 

-So you’re here, too.

A light rain had started falling a few moments before; not nearly enough to soak her, but just enough to be annoying. Something more like a mist, maybe, but she paid it no mind. She was walking on an empty stomach, looking down but not seeing the road, her mind too busy to realize she was bumping into some people.

At some point she stopped, unsure, feeling something very familiar. She looked around, and yet she had never placed foot here at all. Then why did it feel like she knew this place so well…? A shiver ran down her back from her bare feet. She was still wearing nothing but the cape, somewhat uneasy about wearing anything else. It was probably the last time she would, however, before she burnt it. Maybe today was the last walk around town she would permit herself.

 

-Oh, dear, are you alright miss?

 

She slowly lifted her head, lazily trying to find who was talking to her. Then, on the corner of the street, she noticed a small building filled with looking glasses. Mirrors… something about mirrors. She smiled bitterly. Of course.

An old man, seemingly coming from that place made his way towards her. Once he reached her, he put his hands on her shoulders and gently nudged her towards the shop. She didn’t resist.

 

-Please, come inside. Would you like some coffee?

-Coffee…

-I have some scones, too. You look thin as a leaf; you look just about ready to faint!

 

She looked up at the man, eyes lost and it suddenly just occurred to her how hungry she was.

 

-Scones. I want so many scones. I hope you have a lot.

 

The man started laughing a good laugh, took off his tiny glasses and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and fingers. He had only a strip of white hair left, going from behind one ear to the other.

 

-I hadn’t had a good laugh in a while! Please, please, come in, I’ll give you as many as you wish. You remind me of my granddaughter.

-Your granddaughter? What happened to her?

-Everything in its own time, dear Mary. First, let’s have a nice cup of tea and scones.

 

Mary? Tea? This old man was changing his story as he went along. She felt a pang of pity and wondered just how good would be the food, or how reliable the story was; then again, she was starving so any food would do. And she wasn’t one to judge people’s backgrounds; whether he would tell her the truth or not wasn’t anything she’d need to be worried about.

He led her inside, and then up about three steps was a small room behind the counter, with a table and two chairs, one looking more used than the other. Near the back was everything needed to brew a tea or coffee. On the table there was a plate filled with scones.

 

-Which one would you like? I have some Earl Grey or Espresso… not much choice, I’m afraid, but I don’t get many guests. Sometimes my ungrateful daughter will come, but she doesn’t deserve any special treatment.

-Oh… Some Earl Grey would be perfect.

 

She forced herself to smile at him. She felt weak and unhappy, but neither of these were his fault and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. She glanced to the shop, feeling as if every smell in this place was familiar… Nostalgic, even. Had she really been here before? She noticed one of the windows was broken and had never really been properly repaired.

 

-What happened to the glass near the counter?

-Oh, that…

 

His eyes betrayed sadness as he remembered the events. Then, as if deciding it would be wiser to not tell the whole truth, he pushed his thoughts away with his hand.

 

-Some kid threw a rock, years ago. Broke one of the mirrors, too.

 

She was definitely forgetting something about a mirror, something important. Her mind was foggy and confused, she who usually thought so clearly. She lazily decided to give up and grabbed a scone, subtly sniffing it to make sure it was still edible. The old man chuckled.

 

-Don’t worry, Mary. I might have started losing my mind, but I haven’t lost my sense of taste.

-I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not Mary.

 

He lost his smile for a moment and looked at her harshly; she wondered if she might have been better off pretending. He looked cold and hateful, and she really wanted to be out of here now.

 

-You youngsters are all the same. Come pretend you’re nice and pitiful to old Maxwell, eat all his food, sleep in his bed and then run off. Just like my daughter and her daughter. Off with you!

-Wait, what…?

 

He grabbed a broom behind him and, feeling danger, Charlotte quickly snatched a few more scones and ran off, tail fur on end. He started telling her about how awful she was, how she was doing exactly as he had told her she would, and she agreed, but she was hungry. She tried to find a solution to her predicament, but tripped into a crack in the ground, her weak legs unable to support her any longer. She curled up on the floor, waiting for the hit, but it didn’t come.

 

-You sure you’re not Mary?

-Mary died years ago…!

-What’s your full name?

 

Full name? In a shock, Charlotte came to realize she didn’t exactly have a last name, not anymore. Maxwell waited, slowly growing impatient.

 

-C-Charlotte Evans.

 

She bit her own tongue in annoyance. Somehow she felt like she was lying, but this was the closest she could come to the truth. She hoped the old man wouldn’t notice.

 

-I don’t recall Martha having two daughters.

-I’m not her real daughter. I was adopted a few years ago. Please, sir, believe me!

 

He didn’t say a word for the longest time and she finally allowed herself to turn back and look at him. While doing so, the hood of her cape fell off and if he at first bore an expression of being deep in thought, the horror soon came back and he raised his broom once again.

 

-What kind of disease is that?! You, my child, are possessed by some demon. Out of my sight, out!!

-No, wait, you don’t understand!

 

She braced herself for the hit once again, and out of panic tears started forming out. Then she remembered; this is where she saw Rosa for the first time. This is where the window from her world leaded. No wonder it was all so familiar!

 

-Well, then, explain and quicker than that!

 

Snapped back to reality, she tried to come up with an excuse that didn’t sound too incredible.

 

-C-charcoal! It’s charcoal. You see, I draw and when I do, I scratch my face and get it all over myself. I-I forgot all about it and went on a walk… The stuff is pretty hard to wash.

-You… draw?

-Yes…?

 

It wasn’t entirely a lie. The man lowered his broom, and she wondered if that would work at all.

 

-Which kind of things do you draw?

-I’m better at drawing what’s going on in front of me… Alleys, shops, animals… That sort of stuff.

-Got any with you?

-N-no… When our house burnt down, I lost everything. I haven’t really been able to draw anything as good ever since.

 

She tried to make it sound tragic, hoping he wouldn’t ask her to draw anything; she was rusty, after all; and somewhere in her heart she secretly wished he would be ashamed of the way he acted. Attacking an innocent young girl like that with a broom is hardly civilized! Especially after being invited in his home by this same old man. If she had known, she would have simply ignored him altogether.

But instead of a shameful apology, she was welcomed by complete lack of empathy, as Maxwell simply went back to the little room and went on to brewing the tea as if nothing had even happened. She tried to swallow her anger and prevent any more unnecessary argument.

 

-What would you like in your tea?

-Nothing, thank you.

 

Still shaken, she slowly made her way back. She vaguely remembered Rosa telling her about this man, but she didn’t remember him being so bipolar. Maybe he had gone crazy since she had broken in his shop. Now she wondered if he knew it was her. She wondered if he knew about Charlotte knowing Rosa. Worry hung around like a gentle paranoia.

 

-You know what my ungrateful daughter did, when she was about your age?

 

She wasn’t certain she wanted to even know.

 

-She went ahead and slept with a stranger. That’s right! And you know what happened after? She got pregnant.

 

That’s how babies are made, indeed.

 

-And guess who had to care for the baby? Me, because she was always gone who knows where! Oh, but I’m not complaining. The little girl was simply the sweetest thing ever. She was like a ray of sunshine.

 

A warm expression filled his eyes and for a moment she wondered if she wasn’t safe. But then the madness showed up again.

 

-And you know what she did? She sold the baby. That’s right, sold! To these good-for-nothing riches, just so she’d get one meal. What kind of mother does that make? Hell, she had no right to the girl.

 

He started fussing about about the unfairness to it and Charlotte felt pity for him. Somehow she expected him to tell her so don’t go around sleeping with strangers and selling babies, you hear me? He dropped Charlotte’s cup of tea in front of her and she was thankful for the distraction.

 

-I saw the baby again, all grown up and all. Came by the shop looking all wounded and starved. I invited her in, took care of her. Don’t think she recognized me. Never came by again. Dear goodness, I don’t know what they did to her. I’m just glad she’s still alive.

 

She sipped on her tea as the man sighed, looking very old. Somehow this whole story seemed strangely familiar, but she didn’t dare question him in case he’d get into another one of his fits.

 

-As for my daughter, well, she never showed up again either. That good-for-nothing! For all I know she’s dead somewhere, or managed to flee to some other city. And you know what else? She sold her daughter to my cousin! My cousin! Can you believe it?!

 

She ate a few more scones and took a second cup as the man went on and on with the story of his life. He did tell her a few interesting trivia on the town she was staying in, though. Apparently it was built simply as a place for workers to live in while they were working on the train tracks that went through it. Once the work was done, a lot of them didn’t feel like going back home and simply installed themselves there permanently. It was a fairly normal town, until a white-eared kid was born.

After a while, once she had eaten her full, she started wondering about what excuse she would come up with to sneak away. It was nearly four in the afternoon now, and she might feel fit enough to help Martha cook supper… maybe. She missed cooking, that was for sure. But then her fingers brought her back to reality, and, with new found motivation, she decided it was about time she started getting ready to go meet up with Rosa again.

Once she saw an opening, she thanked the man for the tea and food and slowly got up, well planning on sneaking away, when he stopped her. Secretly annoyed, she turn to see what he wanted now.

 

-Take care of yourself, will you?

-I will.

 

Finally free, she tried to make her way to the bakery as quickly as she could without looking suspicious. The rain had fully stopped now and the air smelled fresh. She didn’t look back to the shop, not once, and was surprised to see two men by the door of her home. They glanced towards her after a moment and one briskly started walking towards her. She frowned.

 

-Where were you?! We’ve been waiting forever!

-Greg? I don’t recall you telling me you’d be there today.

-Well… whatever. I found a place where we can burn your stuff.

 

Burn her stuff… Suddenly she wasn’t as sure whether she was ready or not. She pushed away her hesitation.

 

-You did want to burn them, right?

-Y-yes.

-Well, good. I brought you some… clothes.

 

He scratched his head in annoyance for a moment and she realized for the first time he had a new shirt. She lifted his sleeve to inspect it, almost naturally. It looked new; not as in newly bought, but more as in never worn. It was paler than the other, and it looked nice on him. But she liked the old one better. But she wouldn’t give it back.

Tired of waiting, Benjamin lazily made his way to them, holding a coat over his shoulder. He seemed sort of interested in their conversation, but didn’t say anything. Greg spoke again.

 

-Oh, and please, will you be smart and wait till winter’s over to leave?

-Why would I do that?

-So you don’t freeze to death. Oh, and I doubt you have any way of getting there yet, do you?

 

She jumped a little. The one who had spoken was the tall man, so much taller than she was, and his voice was much deeper than she had expected. It suddenly dawned on her that she knew nothing about Greg’s friends. He had sharp green eyes, yet they were dull in colour. Something about them was unsettling. She felt studied. His face betrayed no emotion when he spoke again.

 

-My family owns a boat. If you’re willing to wait it out, they can take you there. Then, you’ll be on your own.

-Greg!

 

He was in the middle of a discussion with Thomas and Benjamin when he heard his name, followed by quick footsteps and harsh breathing. He turned around to see someone covered in a black cloak from head to toe, stopping near him and bending over to catch their breath, and it took him a moment to recognize Charlotte. He lifted an eyebrow at her, wondering just what in the world was that dress up when she lifted her head back up again and looked at him straight in the eye. She looked awfully worried.

 

-Can you come with me? It’s important.

-What’s the matter?

-I can’t talk here.

 

Something about the urgency and distress in his voice was unsettling and worried him. She had never worn the cape she had on before, and he had never seen something quite like it before. It looked like it was made of silk, completely black, with a red ribbon neatly bordering it; it looked like it would be worth quite a lot. Somehow he knew she hadn’t gotten this in the market place. He couldn’t see her face well because of the hood, and it was hiding most of her body too; but he didn’t fail to notice she was bare foot.

 

-… Okay.

-Huh?!

 

His followers both gave him an astonished glance, but he didn’t respond. They must have caught on that something serious was happening, because they exchanged uncertain glances and even Thomas didn’t dare make a sarcastic comment.

 

-But what about that brat, boss?

-Yeah, I thought we were going to show ‘em today!

-I’ll deal with it later.

-Aw, man. Ever since you got involved with that girl, you…

 

They looked just about ready to complain more, but one glare from him and they both shut their trap, swallowing hard. Benjamin pushed the short guy back, before he could say anything out of place again.

 

-We’ll keep them busy until you come back.

 

He nodded to them and turned back to Charlotte only to realize the girl had already started walking back towards the bakery. He yelled out her name, yet she didn’t stop to wait for him and he grumbled a bit before running after her. She was acting weird. Way too weird for him to be comfortable. She was already by the bakery when he caught on. She stopped and waited by the door, as if finally waiting for him, and when she glanced his way he couldn’t help but notice a black stain on her face a little over her nose, right next to her eye.

 

-Hey, seriously, what’s with the urgency and not saying a word, huh?

-Just open the door.

 

Again with the orders! He raised a finger with the intention of complaining, but as he was about to speak out he paused, looked at her some more, then decided to just drop it with a sigh and did as she said. No point arguing over it if it didn’t save time, especially considering how worried he was.

Without another word she stormed inside and went straight upstairs, to her room he guessed, without even so much as a glance to Martha who was waiting by the counter. He looked inside, overwhelmed and bewildered, still holding the door open. Okay, now what. He hadn’t seen her in a while, not since that last time she had told him so many things. He had needed some time to digest all of it, some time on his own and now she just showed up in the streets to look for him while he was taking care of his business, acting all weird? He glanced at the shop keeper.

 

-What’s wrong with her?!

-Beats me, boy. She hasn’t talked to me in a month.

 

He looked at the woman a little longer and didn’t fail to notice how old she looked. The spark of life that she always had seemed to be gone and replaced by some exhaustion and he unexpectedly felt sorry for her. She glared at him after a moment, as if proving him wrong and showing him that she still had energy left.

 

-Close the door already, it’s cold outside!

-You say that, yet you let her leave without any shoes on!

 

She let out a long sigh and rubbed her eyes, and for the first time in ever, he didn’t feel like being a jerk any longer and decided to leave her alone. He quickly made his way upstairs, before Martha decided that he wasn’t welcome anymore and he should leave, no matter the state he was in.

The door to Charlotte’s room was half open, with the entrance just wide enough for her to make her way in. The light was on even though it was so bright from the morning light. She was inside, her back to him and she let her hood fall off, before turning to him.

 

-Get in and close the door behind you.

 

She briskly walked to the windows and pulled on the curtains while he did as she said, and once he had executed, she motioned for him to sit on the bed. He grumbled a little in annoyance, but after a sigh did as she wished, crossed his legs and looked at her.

 

-What now?

 

She walked to stand in front of him, a strange expression on her face, something close to determination, but not quite; with a hint of fear in it. She started struggling with the cape and took it off as he looked away quickly and blushing when he realized she was wearing nothing but her underwear. What the hell?!

 

-Look at me!

-What?!

 

He was still uncertain about all of this and he still didn’t dare to look, but as she was obviously waiting for this he swallowed hard and started to turn back slowly, his eyes still shut tight. What did she plan to do with him? It was the only thing that was going on in his mind, looping over and over again and he wondered if it had been a wise decision to follow her after all.

But as he set eyes on her as she had demanded, he understood. There was a huge stain on her chest and hands, the edges of it dotted and slightly paler. A few random places on her arms, neck and legs looked similar, places she would scratch at often, from the looks of her reddened skin. It took him a moment to realize she was wearing a necklace, because of how dark it was. She looked like she was covered in charcoal and, upon seeing it, fear gripped at his throat and he wondered if he wasn’t going to throw up. His legs were shaking too, and what was up with this rotting smell? She looked at her own hands for a moment.

 

-All of the things I brought from my world look the same.

-What does that mean?…

 

She looked up again, before walking to the corner of the room where a pile of things were placed. She came back with a few things in hand; a leather book, things to write and some clothes, including the cape she had on earlier. She dropped all of them on the floor, save from the diary, which she opened up and showed him. All of the pages were more of less blackened, and most words were hard to make out. The objects on the floor all gave off the feeling that they were rotting away.

 

-I wrote down everything I knew in this. Everything I ever learned, everything about the world I came from. But now that thing that ate it up somehow followed me, and it’s growing faster and faster…

 

Her hands started shaking as she went on, tears falling on her cheeks. He started at her with wide eyes, still too shocked to be able to respond properly.

 

-If I touch anything, it leaves a stain. But it washes off easily if it’s something that comes from this world. At least, if you take care of it right away…

 

She grabbed her head and slowly fell to her knees.

 

-I’m so scared… I don’t know what to do. I didn’t know where to search for help. I don’t want to die.

-W-wait, what are you saying?! Nobody said anything about dying, right?

 

He felt his heart ache with every heartbeat and his throat tighten. She was just talking nonsense to him. He didn’t understand, he didn’t get any of this. So what if her skin had some black on it? She didn’t seem to have any symptom, right? She didn’t seem to be suffering, she only had stains on her! If anything, he could probably wash them off with soap, just like paint, as if all of this was nothing but a bad joke! He swallowed hard, his head spinning. He had to get a grip on himself.

 

-Are you… feeling ill?

 

She took a moment before answering, as if she was trying to think about it, but the wait was incredibly painful, feeding off his anxiety.

 

-I don’t think so. My heart sometimes acts up, and I get dizzy, but that’s it.

-Do you remember when these stains started showing up?

 

Once again she took a moment to respond and he did the best he could to try and stay rational about this, whatever it meant considering he was dealing with something straight out of a fairy tale, pushing down all of his feelings of dread. She looked up at him, her eyes thoughtful.

 

-I opened up my diary, and one of the stones had a stain. That stone is gone now, though; it was the first thing to be eaten up completely…

-And the ones on you?

-I only noticed them afterwards, after I closed down my book. They weren’t there the day before for sure, as I recall taking a bath.

 

He put a hand on his chin for a moment, thinking deeply. He wasn’t exactly looking at anything in particular, as he was lost in thought, but his eyes were set on her necklace as the girl in front of him had sat down properly now. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for, and while he wasn’t one to believe in ghosts and superstition, a shudder ran down his spine and something inside of him told him that this thing was evil. He shook his head off to try and clear his mind.

 

-Did you do anything weird that day?

-What do you mean?

-That thing comes from your world right?… I don’t know what I’m saying, but maybe you did something weird. Something that reminded that… plague… that you were tasty. I remember you telling me it fed off from magic or whatever.

 

Fuck, he felt like he was making so much shit up right now. This wasn’t a game, so why was his brain telling him it was just like a puzzle?… He put a hand on his forehead and welcomed the unexpected coolness of it.

 

-I was rather upset that day… I think… I vaguely remember wishing I was back into my own world.

 

She had this feeling of shame written all over her as she admitted it. Then something seemed to click into her mind.

 

-Oh, right. The stain wasn’t on my fingers at first. The necklace I’m wearing was blackened a bit, and after touching it, it came off on my hands.

 

Alright, that was it. That thing was fucking evil. Without giving it a second thought, he reached out for it and gave it a harsh thug, breaking it off. Charlotte gave him shocked, wide eyes as he did so. He was about to tell her that he wasn’t going to let her touch any of that thing ever again when he felt a burning feeling in his palm. What the hell was that?!

He looked at it only to have the overwhelming feeling of danger come from it. It felt as if a hungry beast was locking its sight on him, to see whether or not he would taste good. He threw the thing to the ground and realized he was shaking again, tears burning away at his eyes.

 

-Greg!!

 

He snapped back to reality and looked at her. Shock and worry soon led place to relief as he was calming down. He looked at his hand to see some sort of black ashes. He rubbed his fingers together and it spread slightly, just like charcoal would. He smelled them, but it only had a very faint odour of mold.

 

-You scared me… Don’t do that again. I don’t know what I’d do if I got you infected.

-Forget about that. And that thing. Don’t touch it. It’s scary as shit. I’m not letting wear it.

-What?! But that’s the only thing I have left from Mage! Besides, I’ve been wearing that necklace for nearly four years now, my neck is going to feel all naked now!

-I don’t care, you’re not wearing that! Here.

 

He reached for his own neck, grabbing the one he was wearing. It was nothing fancy, simply a bear tooth on a strip of leather that he had crafted himself, but it would have to do. He put it around her neck and she bristled slightly, scared that he might touch her. He didn’t really care if he got contaminated. He wasn’t going to give up on her, and if that meant catching whatever she had, so be it. He’d rather catch it now and be done with it, than wait on and fear it.

 

-But… I’ll dirty it!

-What, do you think that it’s not? I don’t recall being sparkling clean.

 

She was obviously out of words at his reply, and while he would have usually smirked at how priceless her face was, he did not. He was still too tensed up to allow himself to be laid back.

 

-I’ll hold on to that from now on. How do you suggest we get rid of it?

-I think… it would be best to burn off all of the things I brought with me.

 

She had a pained expression on her face, but while she seemed sad over the thought, it felt like she had made up her mind.

 

-I get the feeling that in a way, the things I brought along with me are some sort of paradox here. They shouldn’t exist. I need to make them disappear.

-Aren’t you going to miss them?

-Well, yes, obviously… But I should never have brought them here to begin with. It’s better this way.

-And what about you?

-I don’t… know how it’ll affect me. After all, I did grow ears and a tail, and so far none of that has a single stain. Maybe I’ll be fine. Maybe I won’t. But there are things I need to do.

 

She had a serious expression on her face. Whatever decision she had made, he could feel that she wasn’t going to give up on anytime soon. He sighed.

 

-You’re going to London, aren’t you?

-H-how did you figure that out?

-It wasn’t that hard. Heh.

 

He put a hand on his face, a bitter smile painting itself behind it.

 

-Is there nothing I can do to win…?

-What are you talking about…?

-Feels like Rosa is always one step ahead of me.

 

She gave him a strange look, one of pity maybe, one he didn’t want to see, so he turned his head away, ears low, feeling a little ashamed for speaking out. Yet a terrible sadness filled his entire being, something he had never felt before, and his heart ached with it. He grabbed his shirt tightly in that area, wishing for it to stop.

 

-Just… tell me one thing.

-What is it…?

-Rosa said something… It’s been haunting me ever since, I can’t get it out of my mind.

 

She gave him a confused look, but he could feel that she was feeling tense and nervous, probably worried about what had been said. He knew he should be looking at her in the eye, yet he couldn’t bring himself to.

 

-She said… that she raped you.

-W-what?!

 

He could feel that Charlotte was suddenly flustered and confused about his statement. He put a hand to his forehead, feeling uneasy about asking that. Goddamn it, why did that idiot’s words, obviously said in a hurry, as an excuse, stayed so fresh in his mind? He wished he could have forgotten about it.

 

-I-I think rape is a pretty big word to explain it.

-What do you mean?

-Well, she… she touched my ears and kissed me. But then she apologized and ran off.

 

He glanced at her, her cheeks bright red as she stared intently at the floor. Then her expression completely vanished and for a moment he was worried that she was feeling unwell, until she sneezed. He stared at her in disbelief.

 

-You’re so dense. Aren’t you even a little bit ashamed?

-It’s the truth, I’m telling you! She really stormed out on me and,

-I’m not talking about that, stupid. You’ve been in your underwear this whole time, right in front of a man, and you know I have my eyes on you.

-O-oh…

 

He sighed heavily, unsure what to think about all of this, but seeing as she was obviously getting cold, he stood up, put down his suspenders and started unbuttoning his shirt. She seemed to be having many strange thoughts as she looked at him and he didn’t dare try to guess any of them. He felt his face hot with embarrassment as he threw it on her face.

 

-Put this on, for God’s sake!

-God…?

 

She hadn’t moved at all and for a moment he thought about how stupid she looked. He started wondering if he was going to have to put that stupid shirt on her himself. What was she mumbling about now…?

 

-That’s right, I haven’t prayed in a long time…

The phone rang one, two, three rings before the woman picked it up. She was someone well known, someone whose voice was familiar to everyone, and everyone’s voices were familiar to her, even though she had never seen any of these people’s faces.

 

-Operator.

-Hi! I’d like to make a call to James Wilkes, at the Cavendish house in London…

 

Ah, this girl again. How often had it been now, every day? Surely this girl was desperate. The woman sighed inside her mind before telling her what she had told her all week.

 

-I’m sorry, miss, but as I’ve told you many times I doubt a noble will let you talk to them. I can get you through, but I can assure you, you’ll be back to talking to me in no time.

-Then let me talk to Rosaria Brooks. She works there.

-Alright, alright… I’ll connect you, but I can’t guarantee anything.

-Thank you.

 

She clicked a few buttons on the console in front of her with expert fingers. Part of her loved the sounds and feeling the machine would do, part of her did it without even looking, by habit, automatically. Other than these noises, the place she was at was dark and silent. She was alone here.

The call connected and she could see, thanks for a few lights on the machine, that it was ringing on the other side. She wondered if they’d pick up or even accept to talk to her this time. She wondered what this girl’s story was, who James and Rosaria were, but she would probably never know. Her phone ringed again and, as she was used to, waited three rings to make sure the person hadn’t called by mistake, before picking it up.

 

-Operator.

-Good evening, deary! How are you tonight?

-Mr. Caldwell, I told you many times, this is a service.

-Argh, no, no, no! Don’t call me mister Caldwell, I told you! Jake, Jake!! I’ll rip out your vocal cords if you keep this on!

-Sir, I do hope you are aware of talking to a phone right now?

 

She rubbed her forehead in an attempt to ease her now growing headache. What was up with this man, calling her every week for small talk? He had this peculiar voice, flowing as he talked, and she often found herself picturing her words as if they were some kind of river. She wondered if he lived on his own, if he was lonely. Lights flashed on the console.

 

-Madam, I will forgive you this time, but please do let me take you for some tea!

-I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but there is another call. Can you hang on for a moment?

-Oh, sure thing, dear, I’ll be right here!

 

Not as if you really had anything better to do, right? She thought with a sigh, before picking up the other call. It was the Evans girl from before.

 

-Operator.

-Is there anything I can do to get through…? Please, I really need to talk to them!

-I’m sorry miss, but unless you write a letter or get there yourself, if they keep on refusing your phone calls, I’m pretty sure they are the only other options.

-Getting there myself…

-May I help you with anything else?

-No, thank you!

-Have a nice evening, thank you for calling.

 

She hung up and checked the lights again. All of them were turned off, meaning there was no call pending. Maybe that man had given up after all. She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying her small break and relaxing. It was a pretty rare occurrence that there wouldn’t be a single call for a single minute, but then again, she guessed, it was late and the rich were probably eating supper as of now, while the poor were thinking about heading to sleep. These were all patterns she could watch over, by looking who would make phone calls and when. People were interesting to observe, and their routines were entertaining. She checked her watch and sat up. Jake would be calling back any second now… and there we go.

 

-Operator.

-How are you, my lovely, that other business done with, yet?

-Sir, you can’t keep on doing this…

-Did that girl from out of town called again?

-Well… yes.

 

She hit her forehead with her fist. She wasn’t supposed to tell him that! She sighed a bit and rubbed her neck, frowning the way a kid would if he’s pouting. She didn’t know who that man was, but somehow he would always manage to make her say things she shouldn’t. She really wished she wouldn’t get in trouble for this… At least he didn’t seem to work for the police.

 

-Where did you say she was calling again? Maybe I should check it out… You know, tell them a lovely lady is trying to get in touch with them.

-Really? Why would you waste your time putting your nose in a stranger’s business?

-Oh, just out of curiosity, you know.

-Are all artists that way, or is it just you?

 

There was a strange laugh on the other end of the line and she couldn’t help but smile in the darkness. She wasn’t certain why, but something inside of her told her that answering his questions was the right thing to do. Something told her that helping him out, and the girl at the same time, wasn’t such a bad thing. Sure he was weird, but he didn’t really hit her as some kind of paedophile or anything. She was so used to his voice now…

Besides, if she did tell him where to check, she’d be able to tell that girl that someone would help her out. Some kind of excitement coursed through her fingers, as if she was taking part of some kind of great mystery, just like the ones in the novels she loved to read so much. Going against the rules of her employment seemed like such a little offence compared to it… Surely if it worked out fine, nobody would get in trouble.

The woman didn’t mean any harm, though some kind of naivety kept her from thinking too much about the huge consequences her acts might have. Here in London, James Wilkes wasn’t a known name; for all she knew, he might have been a kid living on the streets. She knew nothing about him, had never heard his voice before, and there was no way for her to predict what would happen to him at all.

 

-Lost in thought, are you?

-Oh, yes, sorry. She is trying to contact a certain James at the Cavendish house.

-And she’s going through the long distance calls, huh?

-Yes. Another operator usually sends her my way.

-James, at the Cavendish house… I think I know where that is.

-She also mentioned a new name today, Rosaria, was it?… Maybe it’s some family to her, who knows. Or friends. They all have different last names, after all.

-Mhmm, yes, I’ll check it out, it sounds exciting!

-Oh, and please do keep quiet about this. I’m sure you know, but I’m not supposed to tell you any of this.

-Yes, yes, don’t worry deary, I’ve heard nothing from no one! I will just be passing by and invite myself over or something.

-Oh, hang on, there’s a call.

-Wait, wait, just one last thing!

-Make it quick.

-Operator, would you care to tell me your name?

-Of course not. Good night, Jake.

-Aww, bummer.

 

She was still smiling as she hung up. She felt good, the way you feel good when you help out an old woman cross the road. Accomplished, in a way. Unless Jake told her about the results, there was certainly no way she would know the results of her actions. Maybe she’d get fired. Maybe she’d become some sort of hero. The rest of the story was open to her dreams. She picked the next call, answering the same boring word as she always did.

Little did she know, from now on the young girl who called every day would not call back. She had planted a seed in her head, a seed that would grow a dangerous idea and, as stubborn as she was, nobody could stop her now.