Page 56 of The Curse of Indy Moore
Either Mr. Hawthorne was an expert at puzzles or his enchantment was because the furniture pieces were stacked perfectly. From chairs to desks to shelving to tables, there was an endless supply so he could swap out one style for another, or simply keep them in there to gawk at occasionally? I honestly did not know why he filled the rooms with junk, if he ever used any of it, or if it was there for the sake of it. Regardless, the open door was threatening, practically goading us to step closer so we could breathe on it wrong and furniture would tumble to bury us for all eternity.
“I suppose he needs a reason to sustain from any future purchases,” I said, earning a weak smile from Otis. Then that smile spread.
“Would you like a little revenge?”
I perked up at the suggestion. “How so?”
“Why don’t you join me for a luncheon with Rooke’s older brother?”
16
Where Indy Is Out of Place
Cavehallowwasthelargestcity anyone from Westshire visited, and it paled compared to the capital. Where Cavehallow had shops lining the street, Eldari had sections of the city dedicated to the acquisitions of whatever the heart desired.
Over the steeples, ship sails fluttered against the blue sky. The scent of the sea carried through the hustle and bustle of the city, always the taste of salt right on the tip of one’s tongue. The citizens were as busy as their city, unaware of what the word patient meant. They bustled about with the nerve of nobles. I was exceptionally grateful to Mr. Hawthorne for enchanting my hat. The noise was loud enough while suppressed.
I thought I knew how to avoid being caught in a stampede, but alas, my inexperience revealed itself in Eldari. Otis became my support, using his cane to whack the shins of a rude passerby. Miss Beamy bounced ahead of us, knowing the city andclaiming it as her own. Any who dared to tread closely were warned by a hiss and a swat that had them fumbling away.
Keeping a firm hold on Otis’s arm, I inquired, “Would it be too unprofessional to ask why Mr. Hawthorne isn’t attending this luncheon with us?”
Family was everything, and mine was miles away. I missed them, wondered how they were doing, if they needed me, if they were disappointed that I left. Then I feared they didn’t notice I was gone, that life kept going, and maybe, they found life better without me.
Mr. Hawthorne’s family was right there. He could see them whenever he wanted without worry, but he didn’t. Otis had a pip in his step, excited to meet Mr. Hawthorne’s brother, and I couldn’t believe he would get along with them where Mr. Hawthorne didn’t.
“He would say so, yes, but he isn’t here. The Hawthorne family is close, but Rooke tends to isolate himself,” Otis replied with a longing look at a pot of flowers dangling out of a window. Their leaves were dried at the ends, and Otis muttered something under his breath.
“That boy feigns not to be bothered by his lack of visitation, but in time, he will return home as he always does,” Miss Beamy proclaimed.
Why would anyone isolate themselves from a family who adored them? I’d give anything to be with my mom again. Sometimes, I dared to want my father back, too. The three of us would be together like we used to be, or rather, what I thought we were. As a child, I didn’t see the unhappiness festering between my parents. I told myself their fights were normal because it was normal to me. The arguing meant nothing because they were fine the next day. We went about our lives no differently than other families. How wrong I had been.
Otis swerved through the elaborate city streets. The Port of Opulence was a fitting name because Eldari was constructed of beauty and grace, as if created for the stars to gaze upon every night. The buildings stood close, like couples seeking warmth in one another. Plants crawled along awnings, and flowers sprouted in thestreet, assisting the sea in covering the vague scent of sewage. However, that may have been a personal issue, as the enhanced smell of mine proved itself to be a hassle.
“Here we are,” Otis declared at the bottom steps of a bank.
I wouldn’t have thought it was, considering the size, bigger than a schoolhouse with three steeples and a statue of the sovereign standing proudly at the front. We ascended the stairs, surrounded by nobility of some regard based on their lavish attire. I shrunk against Otis’s arm, feeling small and dirty beneath their upturned noses. Miss Beamy rubbed against my leg. I mentally thanked her, and we continued up the stairs.
Guards manned the doors. Their hands laid steadily on the handles of their blades, and their eyes were ever watchful. I urged my hands not to shake, my fingers to remain still against Otis’s arm rather than held with all my might. The guard’s attention was heavy enough to bury. I avoided their gazes, knowing I looked like the last person who would enter that bank, at least not someone with good intentions. One wrong move and they would be on us.
We made it through the doors without incident, allowing my lungs to release the breath I had been holding. Grand columns held up the ceiling, stacked in a line to guide the patrons toward the counters, where the tellers waited in finely pressed suits and round hats circled by silver chains. Everything about the interior was extravagant for the sake of it, with marbled floors, elaborate paintings of the capital throughout the years, and a chandelier made of dazzling crystals.
A group of tellers talked along the outskirts, the tallest of which took notice of us. He raised an arm in recognition. Otis mirrored him. As the man approached, I took in his appearance that was so like his brother. The same black hair, albeit short beneath his hat, the same warm white skin and height, although he would make a better fighter than a teller. When he reached us, he smiled, kindly unlike his intimidating stature, all big-boned, with a full face.
“Colt.” Otis held out his arms for a hug. I feared Colt’s grip would squash the old man, but the two laughed and separated without maiming. “Let me introduce my friend here, Miss Indy Moore.”
Colt removed his hat to press against his chest. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Moore.”
“And you, sir. I hope it’s okay that I am joining you today,” I said.
“Of course, any friend of Otis is a friend of mine.” Colt looked excitedly at the floor where Miss Beamy’s tail stood high. She knew she had his attention and was loving it. “My dear Beamy, I’m so glad to see you, old girl. I see my brother is still treating you well.”
Colt gently picked Miss Beamy up, where he pressed a dozen kisses upon her cheeks. She basked in the attention, her tail flicking happily.
“But I fear you’ve lost some weight,” he said while Miss Beamy purred and eventually walked onto his shoulder. I bit back a laugh because Miss Beamy was nothing if not plump.
“I’m watching my figure,” she replied, but continued rubbing on his cheek. “I missed you too.”
Colt scratched beneath her chin, his attention shifting to me, then to Otis. “I thought Rooke would never move on from the last mangy bastard. Didn’t like him one bit, but Miss Moore here seems a much better match.”
