Page 7 of Geoffrey the Very Strange
Talondon was big even for a lycanthrope, but he couldn't match minotaur big. Not that Clover ever used his size as a weapon, but it did give him the advantage of speaking to his boss eye to eye. It was, in fact, a good thing that Clover had the type of horns that pointed forward. He already had to turn sideways a bit to fit through the shop's front door. If he'd had the sort of bull's horns that curved out to the sides, it would have been one hazardous mishap after another at work.
"On your head then, Antioch," Mr. Talondon snarled before he stomped back to his office.
"Drama lycan," Ayla muttered from where she floated near the ceiling, dusting the top shelves.
"He's all bark," Clover said as he bent down to see Sundrop better. "And he didn't scare you one bit. Who's a pretty, fierce birdy, then? Is it you? Yes?"
To Aspic's amazement, Sundrop hopped onto Clover's blunt finger and preened his forearm hair. Ayla and Heliotrope crowded close to join in the crooning and admiring party. He probably shouldn't have worried quite so much about bringing Sundrop along. It had seemed cruel to keep her in the basket all day when he went to work, but he'd been anxious that Mr. Talondon wouldn't allow it and that maybe his coworkers didn't like birds.
Silly of him.
Heliotrope somehow won the Sundrop contest and ended up back on her stool with the mini-kestrel perched on her shoulder. "All righty. We have the seashell order for Necro Very Strange—"
"Already?" Aspic squeaked and clapped a hand over his mouth. "I mean, he just ordered them yesterday."
"Caravan was in town yesterday afternoon." Ayla floated by with a full basket of cloves to replace the nearly empty one by the door. "They had enough to fill the order."
"So, yes. Already." Heliotrope dragged her glasses down from the top of her head to read through the order list. "So we have the cocoa, cinnamon, and so on order for the bakery. Then we have the seashell order and an herb order for Grandma Tutti. Completely different sides of town."
Clover tossed his head. "I don't mind, Heli."
"I know, I know, but it'd take you most of the day. We need you back here to get the crates organized in the stockroom." Heliotrope tapped her stylus against her chin. "Oh, I know! Aspic can take deliveries one way and you do the other."
Aspic stopped stocking star anise, pleased that he was being trusted with a delivery. "I'd be happy to run the bakery order over."
"No, no, no." Heliotrope flapped a hand at him, eyes still on her list. "Much too heavy. Lots of stuff. Clover has to take that. You take the shells up to Geoffrey and the herbs to the witch."
"Oh. Um." The bakery order was heavier than three bushels of seashells? Really? He wanted to object, not at all comfortable visiting first a weird little necromancer, no matter how theoretical, then a witch. "I guess?"
"It'll be fine, sweetie. Like I said, Geoffrey's not dangerous, and Grandma Tutti might even give you tea and sweets."
That's what I'm afraid of. Aspic tried not to picture a cottage made of sweets in order to trap children. He knew it wasn't fair, his brain playing into the worst stereotypes, but his experience with witches was limited and not always pleasant.
"It'll be good exercise." Ayla winked at him. "Build those thigh muscles going up the hill to Geoffrey's lair."
Great. "I guess there's no donkey cart for deliveries, is there?"
Clover patted his shoulder—gently for him, though it still felt like Aspic's knees were compressing. "Sorry, no.Weare the donkey carts."
An hour later, Aspic had his cart loaded and himself hitched up with both harness and handles. Clover assured him it would be easier on his hands and his back that way. With a map Heliotrope had drawn and Sundrop perched happily on his shoulder, all ready for adventure, Aspic set off toward the edge of town.
The buildings thinned at the end of Mallow Street until they had spread out from town structures, jostling and bumping each other to the occasional cottage set far back from the road. While the cart wasn't light, Aspic found the weight bearable, and it was a lovely day—sun shining without the oppressive heat of summer yet. Sundrop chirruped and whistled at things she found interesting, and the few people they passed didn't ask threatening questions like,Where'd you get the cart, boy?
As they entered the forest, the path did grow gradually steeper. Aspic had to stop from time to time to catch his breath. Still, not a problem. He was stronger than he looked.
By the time he was in sight of Geoffrey's cave, he'd started to wonder if his coworkers had played a terrible prank on him. His thighs burned as he struggled up the hill. The stitch in his side wouldn't go away, and he felt like he was trying to breathe underwater. He couldn't imagine how delivering spices to the bakery would've beenharder.
Almost there. Almost there. Sundrop chirruped encouragement at him as Aspic struggled to keep putting one foot in front of the other. How could shells be that heavy? He suspected they'd put on weight since he left the shop and wondered if they had a secret stash of cake back there.
This made him think of clams and mussels, sipping tea and nibbling fancy iced cakes in a civilized fashion, which set him giggling, which then made him unable to breathe. He had to stop short of the cave to snicker and gasp for a good five minutes.
He'd reached hailing distance to the cave—an ominous one with a dark overhang, just the sort where monsters might lurk—when a deep thundering voice demanded, "What fool dares approach the necromancer's cave?"
The daylight dimmed as black shadows roiled from the mouth of the cave, covering the entrance and forming a huge, amorphous face with glowing eyes and sharp teeth. Sundrop screamed her best challenge at it.
"Oh. A shadow imp." Aspic set the cart down and straightened. "Hello. I'm Aspic. I've come with an order of seashells for Geoffrey the Very Strange from Talondon's? He should be expecting it, I think. But I'll wait if you need to check."
The shadows swiftly collapsed into an imp shape perhaps two potatoes high. The imp set his hands on his hips. "Sorry about that. I was told to expect a minotaur. You're sure you're from Talondon's?"
