Chapter 6
Gideon switched his attention to Korrin.
He found the sprite childish and annoying, if he was being truthful, but he knew those thoughts were best kept to himself.
He’d dealt with more than a few supernatural creatures since moving to Shadowvale.
For the most part, they were all a bit temperamental in their own way.
Why should a sprite be any different?
Although Gideon supposed being cooped up in a music box for eighty-five years might affect his attitude, too. He’d try to cut the creature some slack.
More for Sabrina’s sake than anything else. She was obviously in over her head. But she shouldn’t have promised work she couldn’t do. That was no way to do business.
He leaned closer to see what was on the list Korrin was scribbling away at.
“No,” Korrin snapped, ripping the paper free from the notebook and flying into the air with it. “Not until I’m done.”
“I was only going to see if there was something we could accomplish tonight,” Gideon lied. The sprite was so unpredictable. Gideon didn’t care for that at all. If his curse had taught him anything at all, it was that predictability was a far safer route to travel.
“It’s all right, Korrie,” Sabrina cooed, smiling. “Is it okay if I call you Korrie? We’re just eager to get started helping you experience all these new things.”
Korrin fluttered closer, his furrowed brow relaxing. “I’ve never had a nickname before. I like it. You mean that about helping me experience new things?”
“Of course we do,” Sabrina said. “If it’s fun for you, why wouldn’t it be fun for us?”
Korrin seemed to consider that. “Well, I’m not done with it yet.”
“Okay, that’s fine.”
How she kept smiling, Gideon had no idea. She turned to him. “Do you have a safe place to keep the works? I’ll just put the housing back in the box and take it with me.”
“I have a small safe I can put it in.”
“A safe?” Korrin zipped between them. “I don’t want to be locked up. No. No, no, no, no, no.”
Sabrina sighed indulgently. “Korrie, we’re not locking you up. We’re securing the workings of the music box. The insides will stay here to be fixed, and I’m taking the ceramic housing with me to paint and gild.”
He flew closer to her. “I will go with you then.”
“Good,” Gideon muttered.
Sabrina ignored him. “Go with me?”
Korrin sighed. “I have to stay … near the music box, so either I go with you, or I stay here.” He glanced at Gideon. “And I don’t want to be locked up in this shop all alone.”
“All right,” Sabrina said. “That’s fine. We should probably go back to—hang on, I can’t take you back to the shop with me. Julia will see you, and I’ll have to explain.” She turned to Gideon. “I’ll be done at six. I can come get him then. Is that all right?”
“No,” Gideon said. “My shop closes at five. Which is when I go home.”
“So take your half of the music box and Korrin home with you. I’ll stop by and get him as soon as I’m off work.”
No one came to Gideon’s house. That would be inviting disaster. “I will stay here until six. But you must come get him immediately.”
“That works, too. Thank you.” She smiled at Korrin. “You get that list done.”
“I will.”
“I’ll be back as soon as my shift is over.” She headed for the door.
Gideon went after her, following her into the retail side of the shop. The sprite stayed in the work room. “Please don’t leave him with me for longer than you have to.”
She laughed softly. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a sprite.”
Was that what she thought? He frowned. “I’m not afraid of him. I just don’t have a lot of experience with supernatural creatures.”
“Well, neither do I.” She crossed her arms and faced Gideon. “We just need to keep him happy, do as much as we can on that list, and get him back in the box. I really appreciate you helping me with this.”
He was only helping because he had no choice. She was the one who’d gotten him involved. “Who did you say hired you to refurbish this thing?”
“I didn’t, actually.”
“I’d like to know.” That only seemed fair.
She made a face.
“You owe me that much.”
She sighed. “Amelia Marchand.”
“What?” He leaned in, barely controlling his panic. “Are you telling me—you realize she could ruin both of us if this goes badly?” He needed to live here. This was as safe a place as he was ever going to find. What had this woman gotten him into?
She uncrossed her arms to touch him, resting her hand on his arm. “Gideon, it’s going to be okay. I promise you that. Nothing bad is going to happen. She doesn’t even know you’re involved.”
Her touch did seem to calm him, but he couldn’t believe this would go as easy as she thought or that Amelia would remain in the dark forever.
It was rumored that woman had a way of finding things out.
“As soon as I fix the mechanics, I’m putting them back into the housing and I’m done.
You can work through that list with the sprite. I can’t jeopardize my life here.”
She took her hand away. “I don’t think he’s going to go for that, Gideon.”
“I don’t care. You find a way to explain it to him.”
She looked saddened by his words but just nodded. “Okay.” She slipped out the door without saying anything else.
Gideon watched her go as his heart continued to race. Maybe he’d been too hard on her, but she had no idea what was at stake for him. This was exactly why he didn’t get involved. He raked his hands through his hair and returned to the work room.
Korrin was sitting on the table, staring at his list.
Gideon had no idea what to say to him or if talking was even required. He decided not talking was probably better. He took out a few more tools, only dropping two of them, and settled in at the table to see what he could do about getting the bird working again.
He put his magnifying glasses on and adjusted the lamp.
“Hey,” Korrin said. “I was using that.”
“Sorry. I’ll put the other lights on.” Gideon got up and did that. He preferred to work with task lighting, finding the overheads caused some glare when working with the tiny metal parts, but this was a temporary situation. Best to get through it.
He turned the mechanics in his hands, inspecting the piece as a whole. The drum looked solid. No bent pins that he could see, but he’d have to rotate it all the way around.
“She likes you.”
Gideon looked up. “What was that?”
“Sabrina,” Korrin said. “She likes you.”
“No, she doesn’t. She’s just a friendly person.
” Who desperately needed his help. But Amelia Marchand was not someone he wanted to be on the wrong side of.
She could do any number of things to punish him if this music box repair went badly.
Banish him from Shadowvale. Make his curse worse. Maybe even—
“You keep telling yourself that.”
He pushed his magnifying glasses onto the top of his head. “She doesn’t like me. She needs my help. There’s a difference.”
The sprite looked irritatingly smug. “You’ve had a lot of women that liked you, huh? Enough that you can tell? You have a wife, do you? Or a girlfriend? Hmm? What’s your romantic life like then?”
“I do not have a wife or a girlfriend. I don’t need or require one.”
The sprite laughed, an annoying sound that reminded Gideon very much of a cheap music box. “Touched a sore spot, did I?”
“Don’t you have a list to write?”
“Nearly done.”
Still smiling, the sprite went back to the paper.
Gideon returned to the motor in his hands. It would need to be taken apart, cleaned, any corrosion dealt with, oiled properly, then put back together. And that didn’t take into consideration any damage he might have to deal with.
There was no telling what was going on inside this thing. It was pretty special to be holding a genuine piece of Bontems’ work, though. History and innovation in his hands. Amazing.
He stared at a single gear so long it blurred before his eyes.
Was there any chance Sabrina actually did like him? No, couldn’t be. That was just the sprite’s way of getting under his skin. Sabrina was a beautiful young woman who probably had her pick of men in town.
Granted, Gideon didn’t know what her curse was, but how bad could it be? She was able to run a shop. Okay, maybe not so successfully, if she really needed money, but she was still doing it.
He’d never been in her shop, so he had no idea what was going wrong. He’d seen from the windows the sorts of merchandise she sold. Was that called shabby chic or retro farmhouse or something like that? And wasn’t that popular?
He didn’t know. He lived in a house mostly furnished with things he’d inherited from his family. Not just the grandfather clock but a lot of the furniture. The rug in the living room. Most of his pictures and art.
He saw no point in replacing any of it. Not when his curse would only find a way to ruin or break the new things. And what had already been wrecked or ruined, he’d replaced with sturdier, more indestructible items.
It was fine. Not the most fashionable, but no one ever came to his house. And even if they did, he wasn’t trying to impress anyone. That was the last thing he cared about.