23. Gearheart Lockets #2
“There’s a limit to how many times I can port and how much cargo I can carry in one day!” Will dropped the bag at the center of the coffee table and held up his hands. “I’m a porter, Arthur, not a sherpa!” He handed Arthur a bear claw. “Here. I got this one for you.”
“Thank you, Will.” Arthur took the bear claw and met the other man’s eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you sooner yesterday.” He took a bite. “But you still shouldn’t have left me stranded like that.”
“I left you a voucher!” Will said.
“When was the last time you had to book a same day plane ticket using an expired voucher?” Arthur asked. Will shrugged sheepishly and Arthur decided to change the subject. “What do we know about this locket?”
“It’s a gearheart locket,” Will volunteered.
“And what exactly is a gearheart locket?” Arthur asked.
“They are a fine bit of metallurgical wizardry that involves the marriage of intricate clockworks and spell work. They are very efficient,” Buffalo explained, standing and sipping his coffee as he slowly paced the perimeter of the room.
“Only a handful of them were ever made, several hundred years ago. There’s a lot of secrecy around them and their manufacture, which isn’t surprising.
Those weren’t the safest of times for witches.
” He stopped in front of the fireplace, staring at the mantel clock, thoughtfully.
“One theory is that they were the handiwork of Lionel Lathrop, Maida’s fifth great grandfather. ”
“Interesting. What do they do?” Arthur asked. He had noticed the distinctive locket, but he hadn’t examined it. He moved closer to Maida now, sitting on the edge of the coffee table in the spot her father had vacated.
“They don’t do anything per se. It’s more about what they are—pocket universes, designed to provide protection and a safe place to hide.
Legend has it that there is no penetrating a gearheart locket.
It will only work for its maker or its owner.
I’ve never seen one firsthand. I always sort of thought they were magical Macguffins,” Buffalo replied.
“Clever of Will to recognize what it was.”
Will preened at this praise, taking a formal bow. Observing this, Maida rolled her eyes. Such a quick gesture that nearly everyone else had missed it. But Arthur hadn’t. He bit his cheek to avoid smiling. Why did she make him feel so light, even when they were discussing such heavy things?
“How did you know what it was, Will?” Maida forced her features into a more serious semblance and looked back at him.
“The porter I trained under was obsessed with them. He desperately wanted to find one. Thought it would come in handy, given our profession.”
“Are you sure he wasn’t just trying to hide from you?” Maida teased. Arthur envied the easy way she and Will traded banter. They acted ?very much like siblings.
Maida was still clutching the old stuffed toy on her lap. Arthur stared at it, wondering who’d given it to her.
“May I see it?” Arthur asked.
Maida glanced down at the toy for a moment, almost as if she’d read his mind. She held it out to Arthur, and he took it. Their fingers brushed, and Arthur felt it in every follicle.
“I think he actually meant the locket, Maida, not that toy.” Buffalo sat down on the couch opposite her.
“Oh, of course!” She blushed and her hand flew to her neck—holding the pendant away from her chest for examination.
Arthur slid into the seat beside her. She tilted her chin back, baring her throat to him.
He held out two fingers and touched the locket gently as she related the story of how the locket came to be in her possession.
Much to his surprise, the locket vibrated beneath his fingers as he traced the letter L.
Hastily, Arthur snatched his fingers away.
“It does that,” Maida said. “I know it sounds crazy, but I think it hums when it’s content.”
“And when it’s not happy?” Buffalo put on a pair of reading glasses and leaned across the coffee table to study the locket, but refrained from touching it. “How can you tell?”
“That’s a little more obvious.” Maida grimaced. “It shocked me when I tried to open it for Will. And it shocked the tree.”
“Can I see it again?” Will flopped onto the sofa on Maida’s other side. He reached out to touch the locket.
“Will, I don’t think—” Maida objected, but she was too late. Will jumped back and shook his hand as if the locket had bitten him.
“Cursed Currents! I don’t know what the Mudpuddle has against me,” Will snapped. He stuck his sore finger in his mouth.
“What are you talking about, Will?” Arthur frowned.
“The Mudpuddle. It’s in that locket.” Will rolled his eyes dramatically at Arthur. “Obviously.”
The room went silent as everyone stared at Will, and the locket.
“I just don’t know why it’s taken such a dislike to me. I’ve never been disrespectful while visiting, I always tip well in the cafe. Do you think the house might have a problem with fae?”
“Don’t be a daft bunny!” Granny snapped at Will. “I hate to tell you, Will, but there’s always going to be some folk for whom you’re not their cup of tea. And in this case, folk includes enchanted houses trapped inside lockets.”
“It’s not trapped.” Will pouted. “It’s hiding.”
“A house inside the locket,” Arthur mused, leaning forward, daring to touch it again and look closer.
Although there were no inscriptions or maker’s marks on the back, from the way it nestled into the hollow of her throat, there was no mistaking that the locket, and whatever was inside, belonged to her and her alone. It had chosen her.
Maida drew her hand away, allowing Arthur to weigh the locket in his palm. It was heavier than it looked, and felt warm from her skin.
“It’s quite remarkable,” Arthur said. “Have you looked inside?”
His fingertips grazed her collarbone as he gently placed the locket back against her. He could see she had goosebumps. He prayed they were like his—the good kind.
“There is the image of a house in there. I’m not so sure it’s the Mudpuddle, but Will seems certain that it is,” Maida said. “Thanks for not demanding that I show it to you right now. I just have this weird feeling that it doesn’t want me to open it here. Isn’t that strange?”
Arthur nodded, recalling what Director Berman had said about the house having a mind of its own.
“I don’t think it’s strange at all. The Mudpuddle is behaving like a frightened child. It’s going to stay hidden in that locket until it feels it’s safe to come out again. At least now we know where it’s hiding. That’s progress!” Arthur said.