7. Fiella
My brain felt as though it had been pummeled with an iron rod, stomped on, and then pummeled once more.
I’m never drinking again.
I had shown up to my shop with two extra pastries in hand, determined to at least make a dent in the disaster. I had cried my eyes dry this morning while telling Kizzi what had happened and thought I had no tears left, but apparently, I was mistaken.
This travesty was enough to rattle even the most solid of souls. The waterworks continued. My cheeks were salty and raw, and probably bright red. But every time I had pulled myself together, some new wrecked discovery pulled the tears out of me once again.
I mean, come on. My adorable stuffed critters were squashed. My hand-carved stone mixing bowls were shattered on the dirty floor. And worst of all, my tiny shelf of vintage miniature books had been absolutely annihilated.
There was even a chilly breeze coming from the collapsed corner, disturbing the papers fluttering about.
At a glance, it seemed that nothing had survived the destruction.
At least Sookie was back. She must’ve been hiding somewhere yesterday. I couldn’t blame her–that was a mess that no living being should witness. For the millionth time, I wished that she could speak so she could tell me what in the realms had happened.
I sighed, trying to regulate my breathing.
Sookie wasn’t really my cat, but I liked to think of her that way. She had wandered into Fiella’s Finds a few years ago, found a comfy napping spot in the sitting nook, and started regularly returning ever since. She even followed me home to my cottage when she felt like it.
I didn’t know what she did when she wasn’t around, but I was sure that it was mischievous and delightful.
She was mommy’s little angel and I loved her to bits.
Sookie was curled up on her favorite plush chair, watching me weep and work while her tail flicked back and forth. She was clearly on edge. Every time another beetle scurried by, the hair on her fluffy gray back bristled up, like she was disgusted by them.
Girl, me too.
There were a lot of cats that roamed the town, and they all seemed to decide where they wanted to live and which folk they wanted to befriend. For small furry critters, they were rather persuasive. And occasionally intimidating.
Kizzi had tried to convince me to let her help, but I knew she couldn’t afford to miss any days of work with so many customers demanding potions and tonics from her. She had to stay afloat and stock up for the tourist season, and I refused to let her business suffer just because mine was. Besides, someone had to make enough silvers to pay for our pastries.
I was on my hands and knees, trying to gently extract a decorative tree sculpture from the wreckage with snot and tears streaming down my face when I heard my shop door swing open.
Mumbled words drifted toward me, not loud enough to understand from the distance.
Shit. I guess I forgot to flip the sign to closed. Did this idiot not have eyes? Perhaps they couldn’t see the mountains of ruin and rubble.
Heavy footsteps halted right inside the door. A masculine voice called out, “Hello? Is anyone here?” I heard another mumble that sounded an awful lot like, “You’ve got to be kidding me…”
That voice. I knew that voice. Not him. Ugh! Thirst tonic guy!
I temporarily abandoned the tree sculpture and hauled myself to my feet, dusting my hands off onto my overalls. I tried to hold in my sniffles and wipe up the mess on my face with the back of my arms, but it was useless. This was a disaster.
The towering vampire looked like he had been slapped in the face. He was frozen, looking around with a mystified expression as though he had just seen a ghost.
Ghosts really weren’t that scary, I’d seen plenty. He was being rather dramatic.
“Yes, I’m here, I survived the avalanche, It’s a miracle!” I called in a watery voice.
I carefully made my way to the front door since there was no way in Hell’s Realm that this guy was going to be able to walk any further without crushing something valuable.
“As you can see, I’m closed. So unless you’re here to help, please, for the love of all things magical, don’t take another step.” It would be my last straw if something survived the collapse only to be squashed by this vampire’s massive, booted foot.
He stared at me for a moment, looking vaguely confused. “Fi?” he asked.
Oh hells no. “Excuse you!” I exclaimed. “Only my closest friends are allowed to call me Fi, and you are not one of them.” I crossed my arms across my chest, trying to put out don’t fuck with me, I’ll bite you vibes. I thought it was working. “You may call me Fiella, like everyone else.” I sniffled again.
The vampire continued to stare at me for a few seconds too long before he seemed to remember where he was, shaking his head. “Right… right. Sorry. I just heard… nevermind.” He cleared his throat. “Mayor Tommins assigned me to rebuild some shelves here at the trinket shop, so here I am. But there’s no way shelves are being rebuilt right now, this place looks like it’s been run through by air sprites and then stomped on by an Old God.”
Very helpful observation, asshole.
“Pardon me?” he asked, taken aback. His heavy eyebrow quirked slightly.
“Oh, did I say that out loud? Whoops…” It really was an accident. Sorta.