Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
S ebastian Hammermill wasn’t difficult to track down. All I had to do was head to the Fashionarie’s Courtyard, where all the hopeful designers took lessons from the greatest fairies and elves the school could get on their teaching board.
I went towards the most rebellious looking girl there and nodded at her. She was staring at Bones. No, she was staring at his peach and purple pinstripe suit.
“I’m looking for Bas. Do you know him?”
She was distracted from him as she studied me, and the weirdness that was my look.
“Why?”
“A job.”
“He just turned down a contract with one of the largest department stores in the country.”
“He does that.”
Her lips pursed. They were purple, like her eyebrows. Her glittery fairy wings had literal glitter sprayed on them, along with some piercings that made me wince. “You know him?”
“Sure.”
“But you still want to give him a job?” Those purple brows rose almost to her hairline, which she’d shaved into a scalloped line.
“Crazy, I know, but it’s a challenge that I think he’d enjoy.”
“He’s in the library, fashion section, drowning his sorrows in eighteenth century men’s suit coats.”
“Perfect. Thank you.”
“If he doesn’t take the job, maybe you could ask around for someone else.”
I hesitated, then flashed her a smile. “I don’t have time to look at portfolios.”
She held up her hands. “Then good luck with him. You’ll need it.”
I found Sebastian in the fashion section of the uptown library, a few blocks from the Fashionarie.
“Miss Nova,” Bones said ponderously, as we walked towards Sebastian and his corner table piled with books and crumpled up sketches. “I don’t believe that they sell shoes here.”
“No, we need to get the dress designer to tell us what shoes we need first. That’s the designer.” I pointed at the sleeping gnome, chair balanced on its back legs, his boots on the table, etchings in the leather of twisted skulls that reminded me of Mercury’s laboratory door. Bas was going through a brownish sludge period. Was he dying his own fabric and leather? How lovely.
I put the drawing I’d made of the jewelry on top of his legs and studied him. “So, I could either kidnap you, or you could come along willingly.”
He opened one eye to peer at me, and then Bones behind me. He dropped the chair down with a thud and caught the paper in his plump fingers, glancing at it before returning his bright brown gaze on me.
“You think kidnapping me would help inspire me to do good work?”
I smiled. “It’s elven made. My boss wants me to model it at the auction. He saw my eyes and missed the rest of me. I’m supposed to be stunning, to go with the jewelry. I was about to go get shoes, but thought I’d stop by for you first.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Do we know each other?”
“Yes, but you don’t remember me.”
“I’d remember those eyes. Stunning. I remember everyone I’ve worked with. We haven’t worked together before.”
I smiled brightly and then scooted my chair closer to his. “Prove it. You remember working on The Detective Warlock? ”
He studied me with narrowing eyes. “I might not remember the color of those eyes, but I do remember how piercing they could be when you’re intent on something. You’re?—”
I slapped my hand over his mouth and glared into those brown eyes that narrowed and then widened as he went through what he knew about my disappearance and death, which could be nothing.
I removed my hand and stepped away. “I’m a distant cousin of the Clarences. So, do you still have connections with the show?”
He waved that away like it didn’t matter and really looked at me. “Are you here for my connections or my talents?”
“Both.”
His lips twitched. “Honest as ever. Turn around.”
I glanced around, but no one was in this corner of the library, probably because the gnome had chased them out. I turned around, arms out, because he needed to see what he had to work with.
“The hair’s natural?”
“Yes. It’s very soft.”
He gestured me down so he could pat it. He pulled away with an expression of delight. “It’s like a baby bird. You’re a baby bird, hatched from a cocoon.”
“Birds don’t…You’re right. So, do you have any contacts with The Detective Warlock ?”
He put his hands on his hips and pursed his lips. “And this boss of yours? Does he have a name?”
I sighed heavily. He was playing hard to get. “Mercury.”
“The antiquities dealer?” His eyes gleamed with a familiar madness. Okay. This was a challenge that he couldn’t resist.
“Yes. The necromantic sorcerer they call, ‘The Dealer.’ So, do you have a contact or not?”
He scowled at me, his face wrinkling almost as adorably as Bones. “Yes, I have a contact with none other than Winston himself. He’s a control freak. Doesn’t let any costuming go on without checking it first. It’s like he doesn’t trust me.”
I stifled a laugh. “Can’t imagine why. It’s like he’s worked with you before.”
His eyes gleamed as he looked me up and down. “You must trust the art. Never question the art. I’ll give you your contact and your dress, but you’re going to have to trust me. Understood?”
I hesitated for a beat and then held out my hand. “You can dress me however you want as long as you get me an interview with Winston the Warlock.”
He grinned as he took my hand in his. “You are going to own that auction, and your pretty little jewels, too. How long do we have?”
“Until tomorrow night.”
He grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the library past Bones. “Tomorrow night? You’re killing me. First to the cobbler, then to the fabric district. Elven made? The shoes will have to be as well.”
“Don’t forget my interview.”
He flashed me a dark look. “I have two days, and you’re fixated on meeting some movie star?”
I shrugged. “I was murdered. I’d like to know his take on it. Also, he might have done it, you know.”
He snorted. “That calculated monster wouldn’t murder anyone unless it gave his show good ratings. There’s talk of shutting it down after that debacle. Not that anyone’s saying outright that he’s responsible, but still, the connection to magical beings and disaster is a strong one. Always has been. Always will be.”
“He might have motives you don’t understand.”
“And you’re going to uncover them? You always were an optimist.” He took a moment to pat my hair in the most irritating way before he pulled out his phone. “I’ll text him, invite him to Mercury’s mansion while we’re doing the dress, but don’t count on him showing up. Do you have a name?”
“Nova.”
“Nova. Sounds avante garde. You’re too soft for that.”
“With this face?”
“Soft like water, quick, expressive, alight. Those armored things do nothing for you.”
“Other than, you know, stopping bullets.”
“And spells. I can smell the warding on them. Very, very thorough protection spells. Anyway, don’t argue with me. If I’m doing this as a favor, you aren’t going to have an opinion. I hate clients with opinions.”
“Yes, Master Sebastian.”
He chuckled gleefully as he texted. “I’ve always wanted to get my hands on you.”
Bones grunted at him. “Miss Nova is not for your hands. She is the master’s precious guest.”
“Oh, it talks.”
I said, “Yes, Bones is actually very eloquent. And his bread is heavenly.” He really had gotten everything right the last time, so the bread had been enjoyable and not just edible. “Bones, Bas is just saying that as a matter of speech. His hands won’t actually touch me.”
“Except when I drape you.”
“Except for that.”
“And undrape you.” He wiggled his bushy brows at me while his pink cheeks shone.
I sniffed. “Bones is very protective of me. If you take your teasing too far, he might accidentally rip off your arms.”
“But then, how would I design your dress?”
Bones stepped in front of Bas to peer down at him. “You’re a tailor?”
“Yes.”
“Then you will put hands on Miss Nova. Like Master’s tailor, wrapping with tapes and covering in cloth.” Bones frowned like it wasn’t something he’d look forward to, but then he smiled at me. “Shoes and dress today.”
“Shoes and fabric today. The dress will be finished by tomorrow,” Bas corrected. “And she’ll have to help me sew it up. None of the usual fairies will touch a necromancer.”
“How nice that you have no such reservations,” I said, wryly.
His eyes gleamed. “I’ve seen Mercury from a distance, and his suit was velvet and leather, put together with the most intricate artistry. It looked ogre made, if there is such a thing. Raw, and yet so incredibly precise. I want to examine his suits.”
“No,” Bones said, very clearly. “Only Miss Nova is allowed in Master’s bedroom.”
Bas shot a sly look at me. “Is that how it is? Why Miss Nova, I’m positively shocked.”
I rolled my eyes. “I apologize for upsetting your delicate sensibility. I say sensibility, because I heard you have one.”
“Only half of one.” He grinned at me and pulled me faster.
The shop was the sort of thing my mother never would have approved of, from the green sign shimmering with magic effects to the fact that every single accessory was spelled for something or other. I walked down an aisle filled with shoes that sparkled, hummed, and otherwise tried to get my attention. I stopped when I saw a pair of guns, only they were so delicate and curlicued, they couldn’t possibly be functional. They whispered to me of precision and three-round bursts while I leaned closer until I saw my reflection in the gold and silver filigree.
“Excellent choice,” the elven shop owner said with a slight twitch of his sculpted, dark brows. He had to wax them to get them that perfectly uniform.
“I’m here for guns, not shoes.”
His smile became positively diabolical. “But of course, there are shoes that match this particular set of pistols.”
I glanced at the pistols and then at him. “Seriously? Who matches guns and shoes?”
“The truly discerning client. I had those made a few hundred years ago for a certain client that accidentally had a run-in with a troll. They’ve been waiting for a home ever since. Never worn, never used, just waiting for the perfect owner.”
The ‘perfect’ had me pulling back, because I’d seen my reflection, and it wasn’t anything close to perfect.
“Let’s see the shoes,” Sebastian said, leaning forward to examine the guns. “Interesting direction to take the gems, but not entirely a bad one. I like it.”
“Gems?” the clerk asked with a raised brow. “What gems are we speaking of?”
Sebastian showed him my drawing, waved it in his face for the briefest moment, but it was enough for the clerk’s brows to raise to his very high and dramatic hairline.
“You are in possession of the aquamarine set created for the immortal Daphne of Desdre by her consort?—”
Sebastian cut him off. “We’re not here for a history lesson. Do you have shoes to match the guns or not?”
The elf swallowed down the story he had been launching and nodded. “If you would like to see the shoes, follow me. Bring the guns, miss. They have already chosen you.”
Sebastian snorted. “So, they’re free then?”
The elf gave him a disgusted look. “Is money the only thing you ever think of?”
“No. I also think of ale, but have you tried to drink ale this side of the river?”
“What river are you talking about? Never mind,” the elf muttered, taking us to the aisle I’d already passed with the most expensive and elaborate shoes imaginable. He stopped in front of a pair that looked far more decorative than functional. Yes, they matched the guns, all silver and gold filigree with tiny aquamarine gems on the slipper toes while the heels looked like saplings springing up and tangling around to come up and cup the heel.
“They really are perfect for the Daphne gems,” I said when I reached out to smooth my hand along the curvaceous heel. “But I’m not sure I can wear these. I’m mostly human.”
“They’re spelled for grace, balance, and comfort,” the elf said stiffly. “Try them on and we will see if they like you as much as the guns do.”
I stood there while Sebastian held out the shoe that looked far too hard and artistic to work, but once it touched my foot, the metal warmed and melted against my skin, growing onto my foot like some kind of octopus, curling around my toes and heel until it was very securely on.
I stared at that shoe and then down at the gun. They both chose that moment to gleam with an extra bright sparkle.
“They really like you,” Sebastian said, sounding amused and slightly appalled. “Or is it the gems you’re going to wear? What are Daphne’s gems spelled for?”
The elf sniffed. “I’m sure you’re not here for a history lesson.”
“You know what the gems are spelled for?” I asked him. “Would you please tell me? I’m going to be wearing them.”
The elf looked put out, but drawled, “Well, there are protection spells woven into them, and that’s the root, but they’re also spelled with confidence and an aura of desirability. Not that you need that last bit. How did you come into possession of these gems, if you don’t mind my asking? I’d thought they were lost to time.”
“They aren’t mine. I’m just wearing them for the auction at Mercury’s antiquities tomorrow night.”
He stared at me for a long moment. “Ah. Mercury has had many objects of great worth and rarity pass through his auction house. But I think you are the rarest of all.”
“Thank you,” I said stiffly, then bent down to take off the shoe. He was using more flattery than necessary, and I didn’t like saying thanks to lies I didn’t need. I tugged on the shoe, but it wouldn’t come off. “Sebastian, can you give me a hand?”
He handed me the other shoe. “Yeah, they really like you. Looks like you’ll need a great magic user to get them off you. How handy that you’re living with a necromancer. Put on the other shoe or you’ll be limping even worse than before. Also, these shoes will help with healing that knee. Come on. We’ve got to get to the fabric district before the good shops close.”
Bones paid for the shoes and guns. I didn’t put on the gun holsters, because until I looked them over and tried them, I’d have no idea whether they’d work for me. Also, those harnesses might like me so much, they never came off.
It took one hour of Sebastian racing through shops, throwing bolts at the half amused, half exasperated shop owners who knew Sebastian well, before we had our parcels and were heading back to the car.
He’d held samples to my eyes dozens of times, making sure everything would work perfectly. He had that look on his eyes as we walked, the intensely focused obsession that meant he already had the entire dress designed in his head.
He linked his arm with mine, pulling me down to his level, which was a good foot shorter than me. “We need to stop by my garret for a few things to make this process more magical. This dress is going to be my masterpiece, Nova. I know you’re unaccustomed to magical processes, but if I’m going to design a dress that lives up to those gems, and clingy shoes, I’m going to be using all the magic I’ve got.”
I frowned at him. “That sounds dangerous. It’s just a foil for the gems, not an actual?—”
He cut me off with a wave of his hand that almost hit my nose.
“Do you think I can’t do as well as some dusty elven craftsman from hundreds of years ago?”
“No, it’s just…”
“Then stop lowering your expectations. I’ll make you shine, Nova Estrecha.”
“New star?”
“You just wait and see. You’re going to shine and dazzle.”