Page 31 of Apple Boy

“Right! Winter,” Adam said decisively. “We need to find one ‘o them messengers. They know this city inside out. Send a message to yer uncle—whatsisname?”

“Ivon?”

“Yes. He’s gentry; someone’s bound to know where he resides.” Adam stood and reached out a hand to me. I looked up at him as the words he’d said sank in and suddenly made perfect sense.

“Of course,” I reined in my urge to kiss him as I was pulled to stand. “Of course.” It was a brilliant idea.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

PERCHVAL & WRENFREY

I looked up hopefully as I saw the messenger scurry through the ornate doorway of the depository and run toward us, but instead of handing me the note of response we’d been waiting more than two hours for, she ran straight past us to the clerk’s desk. I could not recall the name of the house my uncle had leased, but knowing his penchant for bawdy women and fine wine I’d suggested that she begin her search at high-class bordellos and I offered her double the fee if she was successful in locating my uncle before nightfall.

Without a word, the messenger passed her missive to the clerk, who handed her a copper. The runner turned and rushed to stand in front of me, a satisfied grin on her face and her hand out. Trusting that she had indeed fulfilled her task, I fished a coin from my purse, placed it in her palm and then she scurried away.

We crowded the desk, keen to discover if I was taken for a fool or if indeed this messenger had located my uncle. Looking down over his half-moon spectacles, the clerk cracked the wax seal that I observed held the imprint of a rose thorn. Hope blossomed warmly in my heart, and my guts churned with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. The clerk glared down at the note, his lips pinched, and his eyes narrowed, making him look even more like a rodent. After a moment of stretched silence, he tapped his lower lip with slow consideration, and then he said “Ahhh.” He looked up and met my concerned gaze.

“I do believe I owe you an apology, Lord Aeling.”

My whole body sagged with relief.

“I am pleased to inform you that your uncle is on his way. He instructs that you must meet with Mr. Percheval and Mr. Wrenfrey without delay.” He said. “A moment, gentlemen,” the clerk murmured distractedly, leaving his seat, the screech of timber on the polished stone floor echoing around the depository in his wake. He hurried off down the hallway to our right.

I turned and sought Adam. His relief reflected my own. My identity was verified, and Uncle Ivon knew I lived and was on his way to fetch me. Maybe I could now fill my purse and be done with these dramas for a while. Without a doubt, we would be staying at Ivon’s residence. I was hungry and exhausted, as was Adam. We needed to bathe, don clean garments, and eat our fill until we could not move.

Several minutes passed as Adam, and I stood cold and silent, watchfully eyeing customers garbed in the finest of clothing as they entered the depository and queued to be served by the coin clerks. It was all very orderly and quite surprising. I rarely saw nobles who were willing to wait their turn in Thorn, for each believed they had the right to be served first. I supposed Mr. Percheval, and Mr. Wrenfrey ran a tight ship. Maybe talk of old magic and curses kept the patrons in their place?

“Sirs,” the clerk’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, “This way.”

We followed down the hall towards the office of the masters. The marble-floored hallway was cool and clean making our booted footsteps resound musically. The walls were lined with portraits of nobles from the six families of the Empire who I assumed all deposited their wealth here. This was by no means the only depository in the Empire, but it appeared to be the one favored by the families because, while perusing the portraits I saw representatives from the Von Hartes, the Mackai, Da’Vion, Aurelian, and Dimitriov families, and a blond rakish young man I recognized in one portrait represented my family, the Aelings. The picture was of my long-dead Uncle Aleccio, and I noted that on his left hand he was sporting a large gold ring set with a deep red gemstone. Yes, it was my Star-fall. It hit me then as I viewed the portraits, that all of the Lords of the Empire sported similar Star-fall rings, a detail I found most intriguing! I also realized that, apart from the portrait of the Twin Kings, Kristoff, and Fabian Von Harte, all the Lords featured were assassinated during a period known as the Dark Harvest. Gods, how morbid this hallway had suddenly become. I shuddered.

We passed by doors that led to other rooms and offices, and I found it curious that every door had a hole the size of a tea saucer cut just above head height. I wondered if they were awaiting glazing with fine artisan stained glass. We came to a great oak door which also had a hole in the upper section.

The clerk knocked twice and then opened the door. “Mr. Percheval and Mr. Wrenfrey,” he introduced solemnly, ”I give you Count Winter Aeling of Skraedig and his… companion.”

“Master Adam Sewell of Mallowick,” I added, enjoying the thrill of seeing Adam’s pleasure at such an introduction. The clerk respectfully bowed low as he bid us enter the office. We did so, and I took in the large, bright square room. I was at once confused for I had no idea whom the clerk had just addressed. I’d expected two elderly men of business to be sitting behind enormous desks piled with papers and mountains of coins. However, there were no suited men of business in this office. Had I been duped? I turned back in enquiry but the door closed, and the clerk was gone. Apart from Adam and I, the only living creatures I saw in the office were two exotic, brightly colored Lovebirds. They were of stocky build with short, blunt tails, and relatively large, sharp beaks. Their plumage was a vibrant rainbow of vivid colors. The birds sat at the type of large oak desks one would expect to see heads of business sitting behind, however, instead of chairs there were two tree-branch perches, and on the desks in front of each perch, a platter of chopped fruits, and a bowl of water. Also on the table, smaller perches sat beside stacks of paperwork, and I noted that the plushy carpeted floor around each desk was strewn with thin news sheet paper, spotted with bird droppings.

I was speechless for a long moment while the birds sidled up and down the branches, their beady eyes considering me in a way that made me decidedly uncomfortable. Adam locked gazes with me, and I was glad to see he was just as confused as I was. A nest of three high-backed chairs faced the desks. We shrugged off our traveling cloaks, draped them over the backs of the chairs, and sat. Moments of awkwardness passed as we waited for the masters to arrive. We entertained ourselves by watching the colorful birds dancing excitedly up and down on their perches.

Adam was not familiar in dealing with men of business, and so I could see that being by my side in the master’s office was making him nervous and in-turn giving him some private amusement. He watched the birds dance and chatter, his mouth hidden behind his hand, and like a change of air pressure before a storm, I could feel the oncoming guffaw he was desperate to expel. I wondered what kind of prank was being played on not only Adam and I but all the nobles of the Empire who trusted Percheval and Wrenfrey with their riches.

“He is most definitely of the Aeling line, Mr. Wrenfrey.” The bird with orange plumes on his face blurted out. I sat up straighter, amazed to hear that those words come from the beak of the beautiful bird.

“I agree. He looks very much like his father did when he was a fledgling, Mr. Percheval.” The bird with blue feathers on his crest acknowledged.

Had I been drugged, or was this a sign of an oncoming illness? Maybe the Star-fall was having an adverse effect and making the two men appear to me as birds? I believed Mr. Percheval and Mr. Wrenfrey were human, and so I was taken aback that not only could these birds talk, but their voices were that of Thornian gentlemen in their latter years, the accents clipped so tightly as to make me reflexively clench as they spoke.

I leaned to Adam and tremulously whispered in his ear. “You are seeing… two Lovebirds, aren’t you?”

Adam erupted with a peal of laughter that echoed around the room, and it was such an explosive, joyful sound that both Mr. Percheval and Mr. Wrenfrey took to the wing in fright. I looked up to see them shaking, and squawking on the chandelier above our heads.

“Sorry, Sorry, sir’s, please come down.” I implored, feeling at once amused and embarrassed as a beautiful little blue feather drifted sleepily down from above our heads.

“Err. Yeah, sorry. I just couldn’t keep it in any longer.” Adam admitted apologetically, his eyes glazed with tears of mirth. Mr. Percheval, I think, was the first to express his displeasure. A sudden splat on his shoulder soon put pay to Adam’s laughter and encouraged my own to burst out.

I leaned into Adam’s ear again, “As I recall, birds only do their droppings on the prettiest children”, I said in a mocking whisper, “He was just letting you know you’re special”, I added, reminding Adam of the sweet lie he’d told a crying child back at the farm. Adam gave me a waspish grimace and then fished inside his traveling cloak for a handkerchief to clean away the bird mess.

Mr. Percheval and Mr. Wrenfrey flew back to their respective perches.