Page 46 of Waifs And Strays
Henderson Market wasa far grander affair than the small riverside market I usually frequented. It was at least five times the size and probably ten times louder. Hawkersand market sellers bawled out discounts, slogans and enticing details of their wares; the whole area was a maelstrom of noise, bright colours and strong smells.
For any normal person it was overwhelming – and for She Who Loves Sunbeams it was a nightmare. She burrowed her head into my chest until Thane, with surprising thoughtfulness, shrugged off his jacket, placed it over my shoulders and zipped it up so that the cat could enjoy some respite.
‘I was feeling too hot in this crowd anyway,’ he said when I nodded gratefully.
We passed along the main walkway. I was momentarily tempted to stop at a fishmonger’s, who seemed to have a better choice of fish than the stall I normally used closer to home, but there was a long queue of people waiting to be served. I suspected that She Who Loves Sunbeams would happily forgo a fishy treat if we could get this operation done and dusted.
‘I need somewhere to transform, ideally out of sight of people,’ I told Thane.
‘I have the perfect place. I know someone who has a small shop over on the western side. She owes me a favour.’
I frowned. ‘A werewolf?’
Thane shook his head. ‘No.’ He lowered his voice. ‘A squib.’
I was surprised that anyone, let alone a squib who possessed no preternatural powers or magic, would be in debt to a lone werewolf like Thane but I tamped down my curiosity. No doubt all would be revealed soon.
He led the way, turning left at a candlemaker’s stall towards a small pub on a corner behind a large witchery stall. He pushed open the frosted glass door to reveal a bustling bar. It was standing room only and certainly not the sort of quiet spot I’d had in mind, but before I could protest he swivelled to a door marked private and went through it without knocking.
There was nothing beyond the door other than a small,framed map of Coldstream with seemingly random coloured dots pressed onto it and a narrow wooden staircase. Thane started to climb the stairs, which creaked loudly under his weight. I followed him, my misgivings growing.
There was another unmarked door at the top of the stairs. Thane knocked sharply on it then waited. The landing was tiny and I was forced to squash against him to stand upright. Underneath the jacket, She Who Loves Sunbeams gave a chirrup of annoyance.
Before I could apologise to her, the door opened and a dishevelled woman with frizzy hair of an indeterminate shade of brown gazed out at us. She didn’t look upset at the interruption; if anything, she appeared delighted to see us – both of us.
‘Thane Barrow,’ she beamed. Her smile was sunny and welcoming and I instantly relaxed. She was remarkably petite, looked to be in her mid-thirties and appeared totally unthreatening. ‘And a companion. To what do I owe this pleasure?’
Thane raised a hand. ‘Hi, Mallory. It’s been a while.’
‘Ten weeks and three days, to be exact.’ She smiled some more. ‘But who’s counting?’
Hmm: clearlyshewas counting, although Thane didn’t appear bothered by her words. ‘I need to call in that favour,’ he said. ‘Right now. Time is a factor.’
Mallory didn’t appear surprised. ‘Then I suppose you’d better come in.’
We followed her into a small flat. Although the bar was directly below us, no sound drifted upwards. The place was nothing like the grand apartment where Lorna lived but its cheerful atmosphere seemed to match its occupant. Every corner was cluttered but it was very clean and, despite the bright colours and myriad items from crockery to artwork to random objects that seemed to have no purpose at all, it feltwarm and inviting. Even She Who Loves Sunbeams caught a whiff of the welcoming air and poked her head out from underneath the jacket to look around.
‘A cat!’ Mallory clapped her hands with delight and pointed to a squashy armchair draped in a lurid purple throw where a large ginger tomcat was curled up and snoring gently. ‘Bert, look who’s come to visit!’
Bert clearly wasn't his real name, and he didn’t bother to open his eyes, but I knew from the faint twitch of his ears that he was aware there were visitors and one of them was another cat.
‘He’s new,’ Thane said. ‘I didn’t realise you were a cat person, Mal.’
‘I’m a cat person, a dog person and a person person, Thane,’ she said, gently chiding. ‘But Bert is only a temporary addition.’
Thane stilled and his voice altered. ‘A favour?’
‘Yes.’ Mallory linked her fingers together and smiled benevolently. At my curious glance, she said, ‘I’m a broker.’
I was willing to bet the contents of my bank account that she didn’t mean a stockbroker.
‘I broker secrets,’ she said. ‘And favours.’
My back straightened. Now that was interesting.
She gestured to Bert. ‘This is an easy one. I’ve agreed to look after this fellow while his owner recovers in hospital from a nasty accident. In return, I will receive a favour to be delivered at the time and in the manner of my choosing. It’s a simple transaction – some of my deals are considerably more complex.’
I stared at her, fascinated.
