Page 98 of Nocte

“Damn it, Poppy,” an unfamiliar man hisses from behind a closed blue door. “Hush!”

“Sorry,” she murmurs, her eyes bright, smile wry. Still smiling, she extends her hand for me, pale but with the nails a garish, glaring pink. “Come,” she whispers. Barely whispers.

I take her hand, surprised by how cold she is. In contrast to her bubbly warm expressions, she is ice cold to the touch. I shiver as she leads me along through a set of cluttered rooms and into a strangely bare hallway.

“You should put on some boots,” Poppy declares, eyeing my bare feet. She disappears and reappears with a set of leather shoes with long, reaching sides. Boots. “I got these for Daisy, but she hasn’t worn them yet. You can borrow them if you’d like!”

She drops them at my feet, and one by one, I pull them on. They are sturdier than the sandals I wore in the other realm. More comfortable than Colleen’s borrowed shoes. When I take a step, the soles thud, giving weight and noise to every movement.

“Thank you,” I say to Poppy.

She beams and clasps her hands together. “Oh, it’s so nice having someone to talk to. Who talks normally…” She casts a wary glance over her shoulder. “The others are so boring and silent. Oh, please come. Let’s talk some more.”

She babbles on as she opens a heavy, black door and ushers me into the room beyond.

“This is the storefront,” she explains. “We sell everything and anything under the sun! Our prices are a bargain with the Altaris’ guarantee. He likes it if we say that to customers.” She giggles and eyes me from over her shoulder. “Well, not really, but I like to say it. The Altaris guarantee! We are here to please. Over there is the register. It’s mainly for show. Here—” She flits behind the counter, and tugs open a cupboard door. “This is where we put the payment. Altaris will go through it later. We never take money here, only a fair exchange. I will show you! In the meantime, we can clean and dust. Altaris likes the dust, but it makes me sneeze.” She races to a dustpan and broom and hands them to me. Then she changes her mind and uses both to clean the already gleaming floor. This room, at least, is sparklingly clean and as orderly as one could order a multitude of things.

There are books and gages, bottles of colorful liquid, stacks of fabric, and boxes upon boxes of gems and jewels.

“The shop is normally my job,” Poppy chatters on happily, sweeping a pile of nonexistent dust. “I’m in charge here, because none of the others will come out this far. Sometimes Scythe but he prefers the other line of work—” She lowers her voice and raises a reddish eyebrow. “I hate it, so I stay in here. I was going to see if Daisy would help out, but she’s still too sad. Poor Daisy.”

“Who is Daisy?” I ask, if only out of politeness.

I suspect Poppy would tell me anyway, invited to or not.

She perches her chin on the top of her broom and grins, dancing on the tips of her toes. “Daisy is my new friend. The only other girl to leave the collective. A girl like us, I mean.” She gestures to her slender frame. From appearance alone one would guess that she was no older than I am. Twenty-four, twenty-five at the latest.

Her eyes vibrate with youth exuberance, conveying an even younger age.

But there are some things that appearances cannot hide. Though she dances with the excitement and joy of a child, she carries herself with the grace of someone much, much older. Older than Caspian, even. Certainly older than me.

But then she flits about with all of the poise of a fae.

“Young at heart, I mean,” she explains with an exaggerated sigh. “The others are so boring. So stuffy. But Daisy is nice. She’ll like you, I bet. Even if you aren’t a vamp, you seem nice.”

“How many people…vamryre are here?” I ask.

She shrugs her thin shoulders and continues to sweep. “Don’t know. Some have been here for ages and haven’t woken up. Some wake up and never come back out again. Altaris says that we must let everyone grow ‘accustomed’ at their own pace. Daisy has been here for a year already and she only started to come around last month…” She trails off, biting her lip. “By ‘come around,’ I mean… She leaves her room, sometimes! I’ve seen her do it, and she’s nice to me. She lets me dress her and do her hair. We will be the best of friends soon, I know it!”

Something in my heart aches as I watch her skip around the storefront and sweep. She seems so happy, but it is a mask she wears to disguise the pain lurking underneath. Underneath it all, she is so desperately lonely.

I know that feeling. I still remember how happy I was to see Day when he visited me. Speak to me. Acknowledge me.

“I like your tunic, Poppy,” I say.

Her eyes sparkle. “Oh really?” She tugs at the hem of her brilliant green shirt and spins in a giddy circle. “Oh, thank you. Altaris says it’s garish, but what does he know? I like you. Let me show you the ropes!”

She darts behind the counter and beckons me closer. There is a rope hanging on the wall. She pulls it, and on the other end of the room, a curtain is drawn back, revealing a gleaming door, wide windows, and brilliant yellow sunlight streaming in.

“I don’t know why Altaris calls it that,” Poppy admits, wrinkling her nose. “‘The ropes,’ but it sounds nice, doesn’t it? Now, a customer should be coming soon. Just watch me.”

As if on cue, a “customer” appears at the door, peering warily into the glass. They open the door and step inside; a man with red hair and a long, gray coat drawn tight up to his chin. He approaches the counter and gives Poppy a furtive glance.

“Order for ‘J. Bim,’” he says.

“J. Bim,” Poppy repeats with a nod. Then she yanks open the cupboard beside the one she showed me before. She rummages inside it, though over her shoulder, all I can see are dozens and dozens of brown paper sacks of varying sizes and shapes. With a grunt of triumph, Poppy seizes one and sets it on the counter.

“Order for Mr. Bim,” she says, shoving the sack toward the man in question. Then she extends her hand, her smile dazzling. “Payment please.”

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