Chapter 7
Iwalked back to where Peter had turned off the path and began calling out for him, crashing through underbrush and shouting his name while the sun slowly began to set.
The best way to avoid being seen as a threat was to appear a bumbling fool, and after stashing my supplies, I went about trying to get Peter’s attention.
I hadn’t been at it for very long when he came out of the foliage, accompanied by the same dark-haired man I’d seen selling baby blankets to Tinkerbell’s husband only a few hours before.
I’d noticed he was handsome when I saw him at the market, but I’d been so focused on collecting the dust that I hadn’t paid him much attention.
An unfamiliar fluttering sensation rippled through my insides.
This man was very handsome, with dark, straight hair that spilled across his forehead and gave him a dashing, roguish look.
“Gil!” Peter smiled from ear to ear and came forward, trailed by the taller man. “Lochlan, this is my friend Gil. Gil, this is Lochlan, who works with me from time to time and who is also a trained healer.”
“I think I saw you earlier today,” I told him brightly, sticking out my hand and internally scolding myself for noticing his appearance. It didn’t matter what anyone looked like. “You were selling some blankets to that pirate with a hook.”
“What are you doing here?” Lochlan asked gruffly. “The woods get dangerous at night.”
“I brought something for Peter that he wanted. He asked me—”
“You got some?” Peter said eagerly. “Already? Where is it?”
“Only a little,” I said with an apologetic shrug. “I’d show you here, but it’s pretty windy, and—”
“No, don’t show me here. I can’t bear to watch any more of it blow away. Follow me.” He turned and began to tramp back into the forest, but Lochlan threw out an arm to stop him.
“What are you thinking? We can’t bring a boy back there,” he hissed in a low voice to Peter. “Roderick would have a fit.”
“No, he’d be pleased. This is why he brought me on, and I need to show him.”
“That boy isn’t even old enough to shave. I’ll not have him mixed up in this sort of thing,” Lochlan said angrily.
“He won’t get mixed up, and we don’t have to tell him anything,” Peter argued back. “Gil knows how to keep his mouth shut; I’ve worked with him before.”
“I can hear you two,” I reminded them. “I’m right here. And I won’t tell anybody anything.”
Lochlan frowned.
“There isn’t anything for him to see that he hasn’t already seen,” Peter added. “You haven’t even seen any dust yet; only I have.”
“How do you know Peter?” Lochlan asked me, rather aggressively.
“I was Tyrone Renshaw’s cabin boy while Peter was aboard,” I answered promptly. “And Peter saved my life. I wouldn’t ever do anything to betray him.” I widened my eyes innocently. “He just asked me to get some pixie dust and I did.”
Lochlan raised his eyebrows skeptically. He was tall and somehow felt like the sort of man who likely had several sisters. His brown hair flopped across his forehead in a casual way so his eyebrows were hidden and his hair almost covered his eyes.
“It’s getting dark,” Peter told Lochlan. “Let’s bring him back so he can show us what he got and then we can discuss what to do with him after.”
“Roderick—” Lochlan began, but Peter cut in.
“Roderick will be grateful. He’s been wanting to see a sample for ages. Gil, do you need to get back home soon?”
“Nah,” I said. “My mam has a new boyfriend, and he doesn’t like me hanging around.
He says I talk too much. But I’m awful hungry.
Do you have something to eat? Please? I could…
I could chop wood for you in return, or…
or something.” My stomach helpfully gave a loud growl at that very moment and I arranged my features to appear even more desperate for help.
The sympathetic were always the easiest to manipulate.
I wasn’t sure how sympathetic Peter and Lochlan would be, but it was worth a try.
“Please?” I repeated. “I’m real useful. I can cook some easy stuff and I’m good at running errands and fetching things.”
Lochlan sighed. “Fine. One meal only.” He turned to walk back through the forest and Peter immediately began talking.
“How did you get the dust? Did you have to hold her wings or what?”
I explained how I’d used the staticky silk to attract the particles of pixie dust, and Peter nodded appreciatively. Even Lochlan seemed rather impressed.
“Clever,” Peter said. “If we managed to have her walk past a clothesline of blankets being hung up and have you stop to talk to her, we could collect a lot without her ever noticing.”
We arrived at the cottage, where the windows were lit with a cozy glow and smoke furled out of the chimney.
“Welcome to our humble abode,” Peter said with a grin. “I live here, along with Roderick and sometimes Lochlan.” He sprang up the steps and pulled open the door. “We’re back, and we have a surprise!”
I followed him in and immediately saw Roderick sitting at the scrubbed table, tearing into a turkey leg.
When he saw me, he jumped to his feet so quickly that the bench he’d been sitting on scraped across the floor and toppled over.
My first impression was that he looked like a battle-worn bear.
Though the air was warm, he had a thick fur coat draped over his shoulders, the collar high enough to hide his neck.
A milky eye stared from beneath a scar that slashed through his brow and cheek, disappearing into a beard as coarse as bear hide.
I fought down my instant urge to rip out his one remaining good eye. This was the man who had bought and sold my sister. He ought to be punished horrifically.
But instead, I squinted back at him. “Can you see out of that eye?” I pointed to the one that was clouded over.
“Can you do anything other than yap your trap?” he growled. “Who’s this?”
“This is my friend Gil, who managed to procure something that’ll be of great interest to you,” Peter said as Lochlan snapped the front door shut. “Show him, Gil.”
I carefully took the folded silk fabric from my pocket, laid it on the table, and delicately unwrapped it so the tiny pile of golden pixie dust twinkled innocently in the candlelight.
“You sure it’s real?” Roderick breathed. “I’ve never seen it in person before.”
“There’s an easy way to find out,” Peter said with a quick grin. He took a pinch of the dust and sprinkled it on a spoon lying abandoned on the table. Immediately the spoon rose and hovered in the air.
“It’s true, then,” Roderick breathed. He looked so enchanted he almost lost his terrifying appearance, and Lochlan’s eyes grew round as saucers.
My own mouth had fallen open and I tried to close it, but it simply dropped again when Peter waved his hand over and under the spoon to show there weren’t any hidden strings or tricks to keep it up.
“Fried flounders,” Lochlan swore softly. “It really works.”
“I told you,” Peter said, gently tapping the spoon so it spun in midair, twirling around with nothing to hold it up.
“It’s magic,” I breathed. “Pixie dust makes things float? Could it make a person fly?”
A dreamy expression stole over Peter’s face.
“Yes, it can, and when consumed, it prevents people from aging. It has so many uses and I know them better than anyone in all of Berkway, probably even better than the pixie this dust came from.” He became more business-like.
“That’s why we need that shipment, Roderick. ”
“We could just send that boy to get more from wherever he got this,” Roderick said. “That shipment is overpriced, anyway.”
“It’s not overpriced for everything it can do,” Peter contradicted him.
“And if you try to force more pixie dust out of that pixie in town, you’ll have to contend with an entire pirate crew ready to fight to the death.
I know the shipment is expensive, but it’ll be worth it in the end. And we can still use Gil.”
Lochlan’s eyes followed the floating spoon. “We’re not running an orphanage. Send him back to his family. I won’t play nursemaid to a little boy.”
A little boy. Despite the fact that I needed all of them to think of me that way, the statement strangely felt like a gut punch when it came from Lochlan. He was the sort of man who I might want to see me as a woman. I shook myself mentally. I was being absurd.
Roderick reached out and touched the spoon so the slow spinning changed directions. “No, we’re not sending the boy back now that he’s seen this. He’d blab to the entire world.”
“I won’t say anything,” I said indignantly, making sure they heard my voice crack. “I wanna stay and help. I need a job anyway and I’ve worked with Peter before.”
Peter nodded confirmation to Roderick, who considered me.
“How old are you?” Roderick asked.
I licked my lips. “I turn fourteen next week.”
“Can you do as you’re told and keep your mouth shut?” Roderick asked.
Peter let out a bark of laughter. “He’s good at doing what he’s told, and I’ll make sure he keeps his mouth shut.”
“It’s still not a good idea,” Lochlan interjected. He cast a calculating eye over me. “Don’t you two remember what it’s like to be thirteen?”
Peter smirked. “Better than you’d think. He’ll do just fine.”
“Thirteen-year-old boys are best known for their stupidity, and I don’t want him here,” Lochlan pressed. “No offense, Gil.”
“Hey,” I protested. “I managed to get pixie dust, and it looks like none of the rest of you did. Who’s stupid now?”
Peter hooted in laughter. “He’s got you there.”
Lochlan rolled his eyes. “That was clever, but it was also stupid. And—”
Roderick interrupted him. “And it isn’t a vote. I’m the leader and I make the decisions.” He glared out of his good eye at Peter. “If Gil steps out of line, it’ll be you who’ll pay for it.”
Peter nodded. “I understand.” He gave me a playful swat on the shoulder. “So don’t ruin this for me.”
Roderick’s dark eyes bored into mine and he held out his hand. “Welcome aboard, young Gil.”
I hated how sweaty his palm was when I clasped my hand in his to shake. For the sake of my own sanity, I couldn’t think about what those hands had done.
For the rest of the evening, Lochlan sat moodily in the rocking chair in the corner, knitting on the same scarf I’d seen in the basket when I’d broken in.
The scarf had an irregular pattern to it, like Lochlan was still a beginner who didn’t know how to count his stitches or regularly forgot which stitch he was on, so the pattern came out distorted and inconsistent, but in a charming, eclectic way.
More skeins of yarn were stuffed into the basket, next to another one filled mostly with mismatched socks.
I avoided sitting on the small stool I’d cracked before, electing to sit cross-legged near the fireplace and listening as Peter and Roderick murmured about shipments and carriers and intercepting parcels.
I strained to hear what they were saying, but the clicking of Lochlan’s knitting needles on top of the creaking of the rocking chair and the crackling of the fire made it so I could only pick up occasional disjointed words that didn’t make any sense.
The only recurring words were dust and blood.
“Whatcha talking about?” I asked, coming over to lean on the table next to them.
Peter rubbed his hands together. “Our first shipment will be getting here soon.”
“Shipment of what?”
Roderick grinned. “Porridge, boy. Porridge.”
Peter chuckled then gave me a light punch. “We can’t tell you everything the second you join. You understand that, right?”
“Right,” I said. “But can you at least give me a hint?”
Roderick leaned back in his large chair. “Several months ago, I ordered three crates that went missing when my courier was put in prison, but I know the crates are still due to arrive soon. Now shut up and stay out of this.”
“Right you are,” I said, saluting smartly and returning to where Lochlan was still knitting away.
“I’m awful thirsty,” I told Lochlan. “I was going to draw some water from the well. Do you want me to get you some too?”
Lochlan heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Help yourself to the water in the well, but I don’t need any.” He lowered his voice. “Gil, I’m not trying to be mean when I say I don’t want you here.”
I crossed my arms and frowned. “You called me stupid.”
“No, I said that thirteen-year-old boys are known for their stupidity. I know. I was a thirteen-year-old boy once, too.” He paused in his knitting and leaned forward. “I don’t want you to get mixed up in the sort of things that go on here. I promise, it isn’t worth it.”
I looked across the room to where Peter was leaning over a map with Roderick, both speaking in hushed tones and not paying us the slightest bit of attention. “Peter’s my friend.”
“Peter is a con man. He doesn’t have any real friends,” Lochlan insisted in that low voice. “He will use anyone he can and only thinks about himself. Don’t ever trust him. Don’t trust any of us.”
“Peter saved my life,” I said stubbornly. “I’m staying until I return the favor. Are you sure you don’t want any water?”
Lochlan sat back. “I’m sure, and I hope you are prepared for what’s coming.” He watched me walk out the door to get water, and his eyes were still fixed on me when I re-entered.
After a few more hours, my eyelids were drooping and Roderick ordered everyone to go to sleep. There was no extra bed for me, so I curled up on the floor’s wooden slats in the corner by the stove.
“How are your accommodations?” Peter called from across the house.
“This bed is too hard,” I joked. “But I’ll get used to it.”