“Makes little difference, since people believe he’s real. I’ll simply tell everyone that your sister decided to make the journey from Gadash, and once she’d arrived, you decided that the pair of you should carry on to Palashran, like you’d originally planned, to stay with your brother. Neat and tidy, all wrapped up. And nothing at all to do with a demon that mysteriously disappeared from her cage.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“It’s not just because you’re one of us. I like you, Gantalla. I meant what I said before. It’s rare we get a new nurse who’s as dedicated as you are. It’ll be sad to see you go. But the truth is, not many Chalandrians end up choosing to stay in this town. Not with the warriors breathing down our necks the whole time. Those who do stay generally do so because they want to help those still on the other side.”
“Is that why you stayed?”
Gosta nodded. “Plenty of people who make it through have been injured. And it helps to have someone around with access to plenty of medical supplies.” She stood up, balling up the food wrapper and shoving it into her pocket. Gantalla stood as well. She opened her arms, but Gosta baulked, stepping back a fraction.
“I don’t do hugs,” she said, her mouth twisting in displeasure. “But I’ll take your gratitude as a given, and we can all move on. Godspeed, Gantalla. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
◊ ◊ ◊
Making her way down Vintage Street, Gantalla kept an eye on the names of the shops, even as she tried to control the roiling fear and hope in her gut. Gods, please let Kit have a gem on hand. She didn’t know what she was going to do if she didn’t.
After a few minutes of walking, she spotted the Staghorn coming up on the right, and she headed for the low building next door. The outside was fairly ordinary to look at, a sign hanging above the window that simply read ‘Jeweller’, but as she stepped inside, she stopped short, her gaze pulled in a hundred different directions. There were a dozen display cases set up around the cramped space, each one containing a myriad of beautiful gems. Emeralds, sapphires, diamonds, rubies, with the stones set into necklaces, earrings, bracelets and brooches. There was no one about at the moment, and Gantalla had the fleeting thought that it was awfully negligent to leave such wealth unattended. But as she stepped further into the room – and apparently a little too close to one of the counters – a low growl met her ears. She looked around, seeing a large dog lounging beside the cash register, its eyes following her around the room. She’d met several other dogs over the past few weeks, but there was something about this one that caught her attention, something canny and watchful in its eyes. Could it be…?
“Hey, boy,” she said, keeping her voice soothing. “Is your owner around? I was hoping to talk to her.” The dog cocked its head, then gave a loud bark. A moment later, an aging woman came striding out of the back room. Her age was evident in her wrinkled skin, but not in her gait, which was steady and confident. She was wearing a long, multi-coloured skirt and a purple blouse. Clearly, she liked a bit of colour, and not just in her jewellery.
“Ah, welcome, I didn’t hear you come in,” she greeted Gantalla warmly. “What can I do for you today? A necklace? Some earrings? Is a special someone buying you a gift?” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, and Gantalla managed a smile.
“Actually, I was-”
She was cut off suddenly as the front door opened and a tall man came inside. The shopkeeper smiled at Gantalla. “Sorry, I won’t be a moment,” she said, then ducked her head out the door to the rear. “Liet? Can you come and see a customer?” she called loudly. “Sorry, someone will be with you in just a moment,” she said to the man, then turned back to Gantalla. “My apologies. Where were we?”
“Um… well…” Gantalla glanced at the man. This would have been difficult enough without an audience. But with another human standing around, unable to help hearing their conversation, no matter how polite he might have tried to be, it had just got profoundly harder. “Well, I was looking for a necklace, actually. Um, I’m sorry, I was told to come and see Kit,” she said suddenly, as she realised that she didn’t actually know if this was the right woman. She looked entirely human, and with the high neckline on her shirt, it was impossible to see if she might be wearing a necklace similar to Gantalla’s own. “Is that you, or…”
“I’m Kit, yes,” the woman said. “And you are?”
“Gantalla,” Gantalla said. Thank goodness she was talking to the right person. “You see, I’m looking for a necklace. And it’s rather a rare sort of piece. I have one of my own, but I need a matching one.” She pulled the gem out of her shirt, her eyes locked onto Kit as she showed her what she was wearing.
Kit leaned closer to look at the necklace… and then she went very still, her gaze fixed on the obsidian gem. “Well, that is a very rare piece indeed.”
“I know,” Gantalla said. “But my sister is coming to town, and I was hoping to buy a matching one I could give to her.”
The rear door burst open and a young woman bustled through. She had bright blonde hair and a wide smile. She took one look at Gantalla, then, seeing that she was already being served, headed for the man instead. “Good afternoon,” she said loudly. “What can I help you with today?”
“I’ll tell you what,” Kit said, her eyes flicking across to her assistant for a moment. “Why don’t you come through to the back. It’s the sort of thing I don’t keep on display, and I find it’s always best to let you check that you’re getting exactly what you’re looking for.”
“That would be wonderful,” Gantalla said, though even now, she didn’t dare to feel too much hope. There were still so many complications to overcome. With one final glance at the man, who was now examining the display case full of earrings, she followed Kit through the door.
Kit led her through into an airy kitchen, but she didn’t stop there. She kept going, into an office, then once Gantalla was inside, she closed the door, locking it firmly. Kit went immediately to the one narrow window in the room, pulling the curtain closed and fixing the side to a clip on the wall, to make sure there was no chance of it falling open.
Then she turned to Gantalla. “So you’re looking for a piece of obsidian. For your ‘sister’.”
“Yes.”
Kit nodded, her lips pressed together. She looked Gantalla up and down. “Well, these things can be extremely delicate,” Kit said. “So before we try and find you a matching gem, I’d like to check the setting on the one you’ve got. So if you wouldn’t mind just taking it off for a moment?”
Now it was Gantalla’s turn to freeze. Great gods, did Kit understand what she’d just asked her to do?
But of course she did, Gantalla realised. And arguably, it was a fair request. Gantalla was asking Kit to reveal the fact that she was a witch, by enchanting a new piece of obsidian. And in return, Kit was asking her to reveal her true form. To balance out the risk, Gantalla supposed.
She lifted her hands to the clasp on her necklace… then hesitated, paralysed with indecision. Even though Gosta had told her to come here, could she really trust Kit? What if something went wrong? What if someone saw her?
Kit was watching her steadily, her expression carefully neutral, while there was a certain tension in her shoulders. And Gantalla suddenly had to wonder if any humans had ever found out their secrets and set out to trap them – most likely through a situation very much like this. If that was the case, then Kit was right to be cautious.
There was no other way out of this mess, Gantalla decided finally, and so, before she could change her mind, she undid the clasp and lowered her arms. Even before they reached waist-level, Gantalla could see that her skin had returned to its natural green. Her claws elongated and her tail uncoiled uncomfortably down the back of her trousers. In Chalandros, trousers had a slit in the back to accommodate her tail, but human clothes had no such design.
