Page 58 of Moonlight Hearts
“Naturally.”
They led us past the shelves and through the perfume-like scents of sage and lilies, vanilla and nutmeg, to a room tucked in the back.There was a table for three in there, pushed up against a small counter with tea utensils lined up neatly so that those sitting there could watch the tea being prepared.
“Would you like me to explain?”the tea seller asked as they rolled up their sleeves and placed a teapot in front of them.The black scales went up their arms as well.
Soyer shook his head.“Maybe later.Just the tea for now.”
He sat across from me, and I could tell he was still tense.The tea seller spooned tea leaves into the pot while they heated an electric kettle, though not to a full boil.After they’d poured the tea into two delicate cups and placed them in front of us, they left, closing the sliding door behind them.The little room seemed cavernous for a moment while neither of us spoke.
Eventually, Soyer raised his cup and took the smallest of sips.“I don’t ever want to upset you.I was being evasive when you asked about the clock, and I barely even noticed.But—” He put the cup down and looked at me.“—you deserve answers.It’s a habit of mine to keep my guard up.I don’t mean to do that with you, except sometimes…”
He frowned, and in the little tea shop, with the steam from his cup rising like a veil in front of his face, my phoenix looked insecure all of a sudden.I’d almost never seen him like this.I’d come to know him as firm, unyielding almost, but in a good way.I didn’t like to see him like this.
“I don’t mind.It’s okay, really.If I’m asking something I shouldn’t, you can tell me so.”
Soyer sighed.“There is nothing that you may not ask to know.I don’t want to tell you each and every sordid and dark detail, but you can ask.And you have a right to expect answers, as well, though with the understanding that I’ll gloss over all the sordidness and darkness.”
I picked up my own cup.“Like the woodchipper?”
He huffed out a dry laugh.“Yeah.Like the fucking woodchipper.I learned the trade of watchmaker once, and that’s how I found out about the witches and how they hated clockwork.I’ll tell you what happened.If you want to hear it.”
I didn’t respond right away, taking the time to taste the tea and find the answer.It was orangey, strong, like Earl Grey almost, but not quite.It was a lovely tea, but not a simple one.
I said, “I want to hear it.Tell me.”
“This isn’t about how I learned the trade of a watchmaker.Things like that were different from today.You moved into your master’s house and worked hours only greedy millionaires are allowed to demand from their workers today.My master was kind, if strict, and I enjoyed the craft, the artistry I discovered through it.
“You could say I had a knack for it.Of course, in the beginning, I was focused on clocks and watches exclusively, but the mechanical side, the parts behind the time-telling face of the device, always fascinated me.I built up my own shop in a city you’d call a small town today.You could see the Black Forest from the second story of a house, and few houses had more stories to begin with.
“I’d been in town for maybe five years when I noticed things were off.Drink your tea, my heart.It’s good.Don’t let it go cold over the tale of a long-dead witch.
“By that time, I wasn’t yet a proficient witch hunter, more an accidental one.Even so, I’d learned a thing or two, and I wasn’t afraid.Two girls foraging for acorns and beechnuts had come back out of the woods white as sheets and talking about skulls mounted on sticks, the eye sockets burning like the embers of a fire.There’d also been traders who hadn’t arrived when they should have, and taken together, all this was enough for me.
“I had a pocket watch on me when I went into the forest not much later, more happenstance than anything.Such a thing was precious back then, and by rights, I should’ve taken it off before going on my hunt.But I’d made the watch like I’d made many others, and I’d grown too used to wearing it.
“I was determined to find the witch and slay it, or not come back at all.Amory, breathe.I’m here.I did come back.Nothing bad happened to me, and the witch is dead.This is a memory, nothing more.Drink your tea and remember that we can’t see the forest from any of our windows.
“The forest was different back then.Thicker.More alive with animals and sounds.It’s only like that in a few places now, and where it has remained so, it’s called haunted, creepy, wild, or enchanted, depending on who visits.
“Back then, more than anything, the forest was untouched, apart from the civilization that bordered it.That didn’t bother me, as all the animals, even back then, had learned fear, and when a witch is near, fear comes easy to any living thing.
“I found the skulls, just like the girls had said.They weren’t clean skulls either, but we’ll leave it at that.I found the witch, who lived in a hut built on stilts, and the stilts were made from bone.There was no one else alive there, so given all that, it was pretty straightforward.While I was dealing with her, my watch slipped out of my pocket, and the witch nearly clawed her eyes out when she saw it ticking away.It was like she hated that small device more than she did me, and she was well and truly pissed that I was there to cut her head off.
“Ssh, I did that too.It was easy, because she was so distracted by the watch, and with that, the townspeople were safe.Everyone was safe.I lived there happily ever after.At least, for a few more years until I moved elsewhere.I tested the watches over time, and I learned that magic doesn’t work on them, though it easily works on things like modern phones.I don’t know why that is, but my theory is that the order and precision of clockwork upsets it.
“Witches are anathema to order.They aren’t chaos even, because chaos can become order.They are destruction and vile intent, and they don’t like the ticking of time, as if that could kill them more surely than a knife can.And unless you go for the head, they aren’t wrong.”
Chapter Eighteen
Myphonewasbuzzingin my pocket, but there was a knot in my throat, emotion blocking my capacity for speech.Still, mechanically, I pulled out the device only to see it was a text from Elias.
Everyone gave enthusiastic consent to attend your gathering.Benjamin says “the writer” has to work, and he’s not in the know anyhoo.
A question about dress code was floated.Float an answer back to me, will you?
And come visit me in gaol!It’s lonely here, and I miss your company!
“Oh,” I said.