Page 54 of Only a Monster

‘You too,’ Joan said. ‘Be really careful, okay?’

Ruth nodded slightly. ‘Just keep in mind that the Lius don’t involve themselves in petty power plays like some families.’ This must have been directed at Aaron, because he rolled his eyes. ‘But every family has their own agenda.’

The Ravencroft Market had arcades running through it. Joan hadn’t realised how big it was. Aaron led her down one arcade and then another. Each seemed themed. One whole arcade sold weapons of various eras: knives and swords and bows. Another sold spices that Joan had never heard of.

‘This way,’ Aaron said.

The next arcade had a door at one end. It opened onto another nondescript human laneway. When Joan shut it behind her, the market sounds of people talking and selling cut off like someone had flicked a switch. No human wandering past would have suspected that a different world lay beyond that black door.

Joan touched the brass plaque on the wall beside it—a sea serpent coiled around a sailing ship. The same symbol she’d seen by the door to the inn.

‘Are all monster places marked like this?’ she asked.

‘That symbol means that monsters from any family may enter,’ Aaron said. ‘This whole complex—the inn, the market, the post office—is a way station. Monsters from all families are welcome to come and go.’

A way station. Joan remembered the monsters who’d arrived in the rain yesterday, wearing clothes from different times. She pictured places like this dotted around the city—safe places where monsters could travel in and out, unobserved by humans. Places to exchange currency and buy clothes, to meet people and relay messages. To eat and sleep.

Aaron had already started walking toward the mouth of the laneway. Joan followed him. She felt as though she’d just glimpsed a whole bigger world.

Outside, the remnants of the storm were all over the streets—puddled water and stray sticks and leaves. Joan’s self-consciousness about her clothes started to fade as she realised that no one was particularly looking at them—or, at least, no more than people usually looked at Aaron. These clothes really did make them blend in more.

‘Thank you for taking me,’ she said to Aaron a little awkwardly. ‘I know you don’t believe we can change anything.’

‘I know you have to do this,’ Aaron said. Joan was reminded of his weary expression from last night. ‘Every monster goes up against the timeline.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Everyone goes up against the timeline,’ Aaron said. ‘Everyone tries to change something at some point.’

What had Aaron tried to change? When had he gone up against the timeline? What had happened that had made him so weary now? Joan wanted to ask him, but something in his expression silenced her.

Just like yesterday, the nineties were everywhere. As they walked past newsstands, Joan glimpsed headlines: ‘New Disaster for John Major.’ ‘Steffi Poised to Win Wimbledon.’ On the cover of Vogue, the model had heavy mascara and thin eyebrows.

Aaron took the same kind of twisting route he’d taken to get to the monster inn: through parks and shops and churchyards.

‘This isn’t a shortcut,’ Joan said slowly, when Aaron doubled back.

‘I’m avoiding security cameras,’ Aaron said. ‘Monsters don’t like being captured on camera. There aren’t as many in this time as in yours, but there are enough.’

Joan took that in. The Hunts didn’t like being photographed either. Joan had always thought that was one of their eccentricities. But it seemed this was another thing that was cultural.

Not long after that, Aaron turned into a narrow commercial street, full of jewellers and bespoke shoemakers. If Joan were to guess, they were somewhere north of Covent Garden. He stopped halfway up the street. ‘The Lius,’ he said.

The shop—if that’s what it was—had no signage, not even a street number. The front was just a cool wall of frosted glass bricks. Patches of violet and green shimmered beyond the glass like the dart of exotic fish. In the summer sunshine, the effect was almost tropical.

As they stood there, a beautiful woman pushed past them, briefly enveloping them both in a scent that made Joan think of summer gardens. She pushed at the wall, and a piece of the glass moved inward—a door, its edges cunningly blended into the glass bricks. Joan caught a glimpse of vibrant colour. Then the door swung shut, and there was only the wall.

‘We need to be very careful,’ Aaron said. He had a relaxed hand in his pocket, but Joan was beginning to recognise his mannerisms now, and she could see the tense line of his back. ‘Nothing’s free between families. If you want information from the Lius, you’ll have to trade for it.’

‘I have money,’ Joan said. She’d sold the phone yesterday.

But Aaron was already shaking his head. ‘Something like this is considered a favour. It’ll be a favour for a favour. And monsters take debts seriously. You’ll have to pay what you owe.’

‘And after all this, what will I owe you?’ Joan said.

Aaron’s cheeks turned pink. ‘I told you. I’m the one who’s in your—oh, will you stop asking questions so we can do this?’ he said with an exasperated tone that was becoming a familiar part of their conversations.

Joan shrugged. She turned and pushed the wall where the woman had touched it. To her surprise, the door crashed open. She’d measured her effort for a heavy glass door, but in some genius of craftsmanship, it had been weighted to open to the lightest of touches. Joan’s push had made it fly. She flushed, the violent entrance making her feel ridiculous. Distantly, she heard Aaron make a disapproving sound at her clumsiness, but she barely registered it as she stared around her.

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