Cherrystone City was a mingled mess made of polished rocks and hardwood, much smaller than what one would expect of a capital… But that was doomed to be considering how tricky that piece of land was. By northeast, the oldest standing building the city had, the Castle, almost reached the Enchanted Forest, and no one was foreign to the dangers lay thereby. By south the ever-hungry Tamed Sea crushed any ships without a Blessing with but a shadow of mercy and by northwest, the steep mountain range denied virtually every human of passage. At last, the city had only a small passageway out on the west, still covered by the remnants of the once overlaying Forest, now rendered a thick and hard (though not impossible) to navigate flora. Through many centuries, the citizens had found shortcuts in and out that made the city life flourish in their little den, but the hardships shied away from much of the prospects of immigration or expansion.
This was also why many of the sites there remained with the layouts dating centuries back. Small houses, one or two floors only, faced each other to form narrow passageways everywhere but in the front part of the richer areas or shopping districts, and even they had their backs still connected to the web. In theory, it should be (and by all means, had been) a dirtier, crampier place, but Atlas Mason, one of their most infamous kings, had brought changes that made them one of the cleanest and most healthy cities in their kingdom … or so that was what Samir was told. He was a genius and the mind of their time, storybooks said, and deaths by diseases rapidly decreased after his quick ascension from anonymity to power.
Admittedly, Samir didn’t know quite much about the sewage system and water treatment, but even as they roamed the pathways, they could see the city maids and their companion cats as they did the dirty (but very well-paid, of course) duty of sweeping the streets clean at midnight. For a reason Samir couldn't fathom, their uniforms included a tall pointed hat that was very hard to miss, though their demeanor was all but the same: They kept quiet and they stayed out of the way as the nightlife of the city burst into action in the shapes of shadowy figures and vailed intents.
Samir spoke to no one as they moved under the dimly lit lamps, though his awareness made them spot a dozen others navigating their own. They might even know some of them… but the third sister had more important things to worry about.
Leaving an inconspicuous alleyway, they lifted their eyes to read, on the other side of the slightly bigger road popularly known as Healing Street, a sign that said: “Lucky Martha’s Herbs and Concoctions”. Contrary to most of the other stores there, the lights were still on inside.
Samir entered hood on, to find the big woman snoozing high up behind her counter. They whistled, earning them a startled mean look, but Martha signed when she saw them.
She looked like the part: Round, short, and with big and messy once-black hair. Bottles, coins, and lucky charms hung from various chains that adorned her velvet red dress and dangled as she moved to wave them in. The old lady sized them up, a knowing look hanging in her one-blue-one-blind eyes.
“You again huh, boy?” Not for the first time Samir thought of correcting them, and not for the first time they decided otherwise, “I must say, it took you longer than expected.”
That was what she always said, and he heard her saying it to other people as well. If it was one of her witch powers or pretty words to fool people into believing them, Samir would never know.
“I’ve no time to mingle today, Martha,” he said, face looking annoyed and tone sounding exhausted, “Say, my sister had the most unpleasant surprise when she went to check in her purse and realized she lost all the pills we got earlier today… and Mother told me I had to manage to get them before dawn, so here I am.”
She showed a smile with far too many teeth.
“Is that so?”
Martha was a tricky client and an even trickier owner. She wasn’t a real witch (which respected city would allow one of those to reside in it?) but the fact that she had not resisted, even encouraged, the rumor to spread was telling in itself. Samir would never treat her like she did Marcus – it had backfired enormously in a precious attempt – but she could be coerced by other types of tricks. That, and she might or might not have a soft spot for dutiful daughters. Samir was still trying to figure out why she was so… nice every time Gabe interacted with her, but playing the obedient kind was worth the shot anyway.
“Yes,” he grumbled, “ I’m on the suspicion we got robbed, but who knows? Gabe can be quite an airhead when her mind is… well, is not into it. So, would you give me a discount on behalf of my loyalty to your lovely establishment?”
“And what does this “loyalty” mean if no other store in the street is open late hours?” she tilted her head curiously, voice crooked with humor.
“In the street, yes, but not in the district,” The old woman immediately made a face. The mention of her forever nemesis, Joseph’s Remedy and Amulets, never failed to prompt her a reaction.
The ugly glean in her eyes was short-lived though. Soon, she stared at Samir in a way he was liking less and less by the second and got closer, resting her big body on the counter next to them.
“Well, you might as well go them. Go ahead, you better hurry if you want to get to nasty joe, and back before dawn.”
Samir froze, and the witch opened a smile.
“What is it? a maid’s cat stole your tongue?” she laughed and laughed.
That was bad. Something was tipping the scales in her favor that they didn’t know about and that marked the point where he had to be fast and close the deal with the least damage possible, as fast as it could be.
“...Full price then? I have some changes for the order though. The price might be less, but I am willing to pay all the same.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Martha shook her head.
“No no. Not the same price,” she paused to think, “What about double? no. Triple, I say.”
“You have to be fucking joking Martha.”
Samir received a chuckle and the indication of the front door.
“If you think I will just accept this madness you are proposing you are out of your goddamn mind, you witch!” He banged their hand on the counter, “You might kiss my clientele goodbye, as well as your reputation. You know I know god knows how many of this cursed city and you can be sure they will hear about it,” Samir gave her a mean smile, “Joe will have a jolly time I presume.”
Martha’s face twitched, but other than that, no reaction.
Samir hesitated, and the crone lifted her eyebrow.
“Oh please, are you done? Your theatrics were amusing when you were smaller, boy, but you are growing out of it,” she rolled her eyes, getting up dramatically and turning her back to a stunned Samir. At the same time, she looked up her shelves, “Listen, there was the most interesting talk around town that little Samir was roaming store to store giving discounts to people who spilled old beans about the Royals. That by itself was worth a lot of speculations, but can you imagine my surprise when the Jonhsons’s daughter came on her way back to order morning sickness pills (her belly is so big and so soon! As I see it, there are chances there is more than one in it, believe me, I would know) and comment on how Louis Thacher barged in late at night inside the Merchants Guild to talk with his fellow gentlemen, through the sips of fine wine of course, about his Gods sent luck?”
Samir’s eyes darkened at each word. Ah yes. Leave it to their father to boast.
“I tell you, little one, it will be the talk tomorrow,” she rested 4 items on the counter, presenting them with a wave of her wrinkly hand.
“I do not have 3 gold coins, Martha,” Samir said through his teeth.
In fact, hidden in some false cover in the coat, he had. But that was all of it. If Samir gave it all to her, then he would have nothing to continue his business next month, and nothing to spend if any emergency happened during their… stay with the royals.
“Why the rush boy? We shall review the products first, don't you think ?”
Her long pointed finger touched the first glass bottle. It was a small thing, able to comport half a dozen yellow pills the size of a toenail. Samir already recognized that one.
“The one with calming effects. I believe you have tested its efficacy, no?”
Begrudgingly, Samir nodded.
“Very well. It will work best on those free of consistent drug use, but even so, don’t count on it too much. The fairy’s charms wear every chemical down with enough exposure.”
She pointed next to a similar bottle, with brown dried leaves inside.
“The sleepwalker’s leaves are the base for the pills. The taste will be of mint, but it will have a similar, albeit milder, effect. It differs also in the kick and duration. The former will take place in around 2 to 3 hours, the latter will last until digestion is due.”
“Why don’t you just give me more pills instead?”
Martha looked at them as if they were an idiot.
“Tell me, If he or another fae shows up on a little surprise visit, how will you take a pill without raising suspicion? And when they inevitably ask you about it, how will you lie?”
“But won’t this happen-“
“Just give it to the staff and say it is mint. It is similar in everything but color, and since it’s dry you can pass it as such,” she seemed to think of something, “In fact, it’s best if you give it to that sister of yours, Gabriel. I’m sure she will know how to use it.”
“I don’t think I can tell her about this if you are set on ripping me off 3 gold coins, Martha. I wouldn’t even be alive to make the money to pay you anyway.”
She moved on past the third item, a thick cloth folded in many layers, straight to the last one, a lengthy scroll she promptly opened.
“A contract,” she gave it to him. “If you really feel like being so stingy as to not give me what those are worth,” she paused, giving him a hard look, “then you might want to read clause 3.”
“…if the buyer doesn't have the coin to purchase the items, the debt will be settled at a third of the price and a promise of a ‘favor to return’ ?!” Samir couldn’t help but raise his voice, this time genuinely upset, “I cannot believe you think I am dumb enough to fall for that, you old hag!”
Old Martha rolled her eyes.
“Maybe not dumb enough to fall for it, but aren't you dumb enough to stop before reading the rest of the contract? So much to ask of a merchant of all things.”
Samir had half a mind to leave after that, but… his sisters. He was doing it for his sisters. The young one scorned under his breath a “fool was I to forget I was dealing with a wretched witch”, but continued to read.
Seemed like the crone was offering to accept their right of denial if the favor was deemed incompatible with the purchase’s worth, and that this worth could be debated within the two on the moment the favor was asked. He continued to check there were no abnormalities with the rest of the contract, and that the seals were within the law and the merchant’s guild.
“…How did you manage to get this contract done within half a day’s worth of time?”
“Please, boy. I have a dozen of those prepared for occasions just like this. Why do you think the rumor that I was a witch started going around?”
Samir looked around at the trepid store, suspicious bottles of colored cocoons and talismans hanging around every corner, then to the owner's attire and mannerisms.
“I’m warning you just once: don’t dare,” Martha's tone was dangerous, but Samir couldn’t help a smirk.
“And this?” The third sister pointed to the cloth.
“Ah,” the old one said and pressed her hand on top of it.
She seemed to be lost in thoughts for a moment, before making up her mind.
“This is something very special, young one,” she indicated for them to get closer, “It is both a gift and a token of trust that I can only hope you will make justice.”
Seeing Samir's confused face, she wrinkled her nose.
“Don’t take me wrong, I am not doing this out of kindness. I have a feeling in my gut that you will all go far. Believe me, it was not hard to notice you Thatcher kids had something special in you. Now with this prophecy thing… Well, let’s just say I expect you to be alive to return my favor one day.”
She placed the cloth in her hand, and Samir could feel for the first time the unusual weight it had. His curiosity blinding his common sense, Samir unwrapped the coarse fabric with swiftness and wide eyes, like a birthday present.
His grip trampled when he finally realized what was inside. Entranced by the black and hard texture of the metal, he beheld a pointed and sharp iron piece.