Page 16 of Geoffrey the Very Strange
"Boss, I don't mean to whine, but we've been at this for hours." Cecil swung his shadowy feet where he sat on the edge of the altar. "And you're looking kinda rough."
"Murex shells. Comet pattern. You gather. I'll draw."
Cecil floated over to the shell baskets, muttering under his breath, though words likestubbornandhardheadedandridiculouscame through clearly enough. He had just set the seven necessary murex shells on the altar when he twisted around toward the cave entrance in an attitude of listening.
"Hey, Geoffy. Someone's coming up the hill."
"Definitely headed this way?"
"Yeah. I mean, unless they suddenly go off the path to lie down in one of the thistle patches."
Geoffrey lifted his head with a frown. "Is it Grandmother?"
"No." Cecil shook his head. "I know her aura from a mile off. No, this is…"
"It's not important. Whoever it is, go and warn them not to enter the necromancer's domain or whatever scary verbiage you prefer. Just tell them to go away."
"Got it. One scary shadow guardian, coming up." Cecil zipped off into the darkness, humming a cheerful tune.
Having a minion was proving more useful than Geoffrey had been prepared to believe. Even if Cecil was cheeky and annoying sometimes, it was good to see him enjoying the job. If he frightened the interloper, all the better. No one had any business coming up to the cave with the sun just setting. All of the shops he dealt with delivered in the mornings, and even his grandmother only visited before noon.
Geoffrey hoped his prospective visitor was that obnoxious Cormac Brightwings, who had come to sneer a time or two over the years, and that Cecil gave him the scare of his horrid life. Though he had to trust Cecil not to trytoohard if it was just a curious child. Oh, well. Children got over things. He certainly had.
Climbingthe hill with a handbasket was certainly easier than trying to lug a full cart up the slope. Though the basket was stuffed full and getting heavier every step.
Aspic had rarely been inside the bakery during his few months in town. Customers had always packed the shop whenever he peeked in, and he was still a little shy of being a relative stranger in such close spaces with people who all knew each other so well. Late afternoon proved to be quieter, though, and Geoffrey's Aunt Frida had been more than happy to give him the day's leftover iced buns for half the usual price.
When she'd found out who the buns were for, she'd added the leftover chocolate crescents, spritz cookies, and kringles for just a penny more.
"They just go into the day-old bin and sell for next to nothing in the morning, anyway." Aunt Frida had given him a little nudge. The resemblance to Geoffrey wasn't strong, but Aspic found it in her thick black hair, piled high on her head, and the narrow, straight nose. "Lots of our young people stop in and pick things out of the bin in the mornings. In case you want a change from Mrs. Pickle's breakfasts some days."
He'd nearly asked how she knew he lived at Mrs. Pickle's, but that would've been silly. The small-town gossip network was formidable, and everyone had probably heard of the new half-demon at the boarding house within a day or two of his arrival.
Well, everyone except Geoffrey up in his cave.
The gossip would likely tend toward invasive sometimes. He knew that. It was just so… different from huge cities, where one of the rules to survival was,Keep your head down and mind your own business. People might talk about the latest terrible things with close associates behind closed doors. Out in the streets? Head down, keep walking.
In a small town, people actually helped when someone was in trouble. Maybe they didn'talways. But so far, he'd found it to be the case.
He'd made it through the plant-crowded path to where the ground turned stony when he heard an ominous hiss from up ahead. Though the sun hadn't quite set, the shadows crowded the hill's crown, obscuring the cave entirely. The unnatural darkness roiled menacingly, shifting into half-seen shapes with sharp teeth and claws. The whole mass reared up twenty feet into the air with a bone-rattling roar.
"Oh. Hello, Cecil."Right. Be polite. No barging in.
The shadow monster immediately collapsed to shadow-imp size. "Hey, Aspic! Guess I was concentrating too hard on being scary to recognize you. We weren't expecting a delivery this late."
"No, no delivery." Aspic held out the basket for Cecil to sniff. "I feel bad for barging in on your boss before, and if he's still here instead of gone home to dinner, then he's probably working too hard. I brought peace offerings."
"Hoo, yeah. I've been trying to get his nibs to take a real break all day." Cecil pointed a thumb back toward the cave. "He's about ready to fall over, but he won't admit it until he does."
"Could you check and see if he'll see me? Maybe tell him I have pastries from his Aunt Frida's bakery. Including iced buns."
"If it was up to me, I'd say come on in. Let me go check." Cecil dissolved into formless shadow and raced into the cave.
Aspic only had to wait a few moments—during which there might have been some shouting from deep inside the cave—before Cecil returned.
"He says you can bring the basket in. But you can't stay long because he's busy." Cecil held up a hand. "His words, not mine."
"I'll take small victories." Aspic laughed when Cecil perched atop the basket to accompany him, poking here and there at the cloth covering the pastries.
