Page 89 of The House Saphir
The floor swayed as Mallory approached the cabinets, scanningthe assortment of peculiar objects inside. A porcelain box full of tiny white teeth. A carnival mask accented with inky-black feathers. A small mirror with a tarnished handle and shattered glass—one shard missing. The skull of a small creature, its eye sockets shaped like diamonds. What might have been an average ball of yarn if it hadn’t, evidently, been made of shimmering gold.
She spied a small painting, framed in ebony, that presented seven symbols in red ink. An arrow. A wheel. A compass rose. A stalk of wheat. A sprig of lily of the valley. Another wheel, this one more ornate. And an hourglass.
Seeing them together, it wasn’t difficult to tell which symbol related to which of the seven gods, and her skin prickled as she studied that final symbol. An hourglass—through which the sands of time slipped by. The symbol of Velos.
Her chest burned, right beneath her collarbone. Mallory pressed her fingers to it, feeling the sore spot beneath the fabric of her dress, and told herself it was her imagination.
Yanking her gaze away, she scanned the top of the nearest cabinet, which was cluttered with random, less precious ephemera: tattered books bound in leather. Scrolls of parchment wrapped in fraying ribbon. A branch of witch hazel in a clay jar. A wooden bowl overflowing with crystals. As Mallory studied their rainbow of colors, Anaïs reached out and deftly swiped one of the prettier ones, tucking it away into a hidden pocket, before casting a guilty grin in Mallory’s direction.
Ignoring her sister’s propensity for theft, Mallory asked, “What is all this?”
Constantino took in the shelves, almost like he’d forgotten the assortment of bizarre objects was there. “Fitcher callshimself a collector. Though what any of it does, I haven’t the faintest.”
Mallory’s attention landed on a red lacquer box on top of the cabinets. She reached for it, undoing the latch. Inside, the box held a tray neatly divided into twenty-five satin-lined pockets, a handful of which contained a glass figurine of a different monster, precisely like the figurine of the cheval mallet that had dropped into the grass on the moor. She recognized the voirloup and a salamander.
The box was deep. Mallory lifted the tray to see a second identical one beneath, then a third and fourth—though most of the compartments were empty.
“Though it’s rather against my nature to suggest that two beautiful ladiesleavemy sleeping quarters,” said Constantino, holding a crowded tea tray, “I think it’s best if we take our coffee by the fire. In his current state, Fitcher doesn’t quite fit in the coach.”
Outside, a pile of kindling had been expertly constructed in the fire pit, but Fitcher was growling at a box of matches, too small for his massive paws. Constantino set the tray down and gamely lit the fire, before putting the copper pot into the coals. While waiting for the water to boil, he added ground coffee beans from a dented tin, followed by a heap of sugar. “This will be a minute.”
Fitcher perched on one of the logs, looking very much like a bear trying to convince everyone else that he was a civilized nobleman with exquisite manners.
“How did you find us?” Anaïs asked, perching on one of the logs and dragging Mallory down beside her even though the woodwas slimy and damp from the rain. “I thought for sure that horse would kill my sister. When you showed up, it felt like a miracle.”
“No miracle,” said Constantino. “We were hired by some merchants in Grevinny to deal with their little equestrian problem. Evidently, that horse has been disrupting their business for months now. We’ve been camped here for a few days waiting for the cheval mallet to target some passersby. As soon as we heard your screams, we knew it was close.” He leaned forward, grinning. “Who would have thought the night would bring two bounties?”
“Two bounties?” asked Anaïs.
“Don’t you know? You two have a sizable reward on your heads.” Constantino opened a pouch on his belt and pulled out a piece of yellowed parchment, handing it to Mallory as he stoked the fire.
She unfolded the note. A sketch showed their faces—the resemblance quite good, actually, though the artist hadn’t quite gotten the shape of Anaïs’s chin right.Anaïs and Mallory Fontaine of Morant wanted for fraud and thievery. 50 lourdes offered upon capture.
“Only fifty lourdes?” griped Anaïs, affronted. But after a moment, she admitted, “Actually, that sounds about right.”
“I spied this flyer two days after we caught that voirloup,” said Constantino, opening the lid on the copper pot to check the coffee. The steam that wafted out smelled both sweet and bitter. “Sounds like there are a good many people who aren’t happy with the way you’ve been conducting business.”
Mallory considered denying it, but quickly realized it would be pointless. She passed the flyer back to him. “You can’t please everyone.”
His teeth glinted as he refolded the parchment and tucked itaway. “I like a challenge.” He wrapped a towel around the pot’s long handle and pulled it from the fire.
“I tried to contact you,” Mallory said, “using the card you gave me before. But I had a mishap with a fire-breathing salamander.”
“Troublesome pests,” said Constantino. “What were you contacting us for?”
“My sister and I were hired to evict a dangerous ghost from the House Saphir. When we failed, I thought perhaps you could assist us.”
“The House Saphir?” Constantino whistled in appreciation. “I got my hands on a bottle of their Ruby Comorre once. Quality stuff.”
Fitcher made a snuffling sound, drawing their attention. He gestured in annoyance at Constantino, who frowned.
“What?”
Fitcher waved his paws through the air.
“Ah—right. Does this job come with payment? We are not in a position to offer services on charity.” He poured the coffee into four cups, added a splash of milk to each one, then handed two to Mallory and Anaïs. He even gave a cup and saucer to Fitcher, who settled it on one of his massive paws, then proceeded to glare down at it like he wasn’t quite sure how to enjoy the coffee in this form while still maintaining his dignity.
“I’ll make you a deal,” said Mallory. “If you don’t turn us in, you can have the Saphir job all to yourself. Count Saphir himself offered us three thousand lourdes in payment for banishing the ghost of Monsieur Le Bleu, infamous serial killer. You can have it all—far more than you’ll get for having us arrested.”
