Vellum and Green Vitriol
Copyright © 2007, S. Y. Affolee
The Third Conjuration
Seal XXXVI
"You look exhausted."
Rhys was tucking into breakfast as if nothing of importance had happened the previous night. We had left Chesterfield's townhouse without calling the police--if we had made the call, suspicion would have immediately fallen onto us since we had broken into his house. His body would be found sooner or later anyway when his other acquaintances noticed his disappearance.
Or if the body had been someone else entirely--well, that would be Chesterfield's problem once he returned to his domicile.
The image of the corpse, whoever it was, had haunted my thoughts. I had had little sleep. Most of the night, I had just lain in bed staring up at the ceiling.
"I didn't sleep well," I replied. I sipped the tepid Earl Gray that the local café had managed to produce. I ignored the pastry on my plate--my stomach was too twisted to hunger.
"Nonetheless, you should eat."
"Maybe I'll save this for lunch."
"Don't tell me you're falling for current fashion now by eating like a bird." He swallowed his coffee. "Or rather not eating at all."
"There are many current fashions that I despise and picking at one's food is one of them. But you must make allowances. The dead...always makes my appetite falter."
He put down his cup, his expression softening in sympathy. "I did not know you would take it so hard. You seemed so stoic last night. Even now, you seem remarkably calm."
"We all show our stress in different ways," I replied, shifting in my seat uncomfortably. "You have no need to bother yourself with my neuroses. My appetite will return. Eventually."
But my words seemed to make him more concerned as he frowned. "It is nothing to make light of. I would gather that your reaction to the dead--perhaps it stemmed from the moment you became aware?"
"How would you figure that?"
"Based on my own experience," he told me. "The sacrifice, which is always the unintended sacrifice, makes for a traumatic experience. Things always go horribly awry."
I grimaced. "Don't remind me."
"I'm sorry. I suppose I got lost in my own memories." He picked up his coffee again. "Did I tell you about the costume shop I passed by yesterday?"
"No you didn't." I picked up my pastry and eyed it warily. I suppose I would have to try to eat it if I didn't want to starve until lunch. "What does a costume shop have to do with anything?"
"The Carnival is coming up very soon. We would stick out like sore thumbs if we didn't wear any costumes during the festivities. I also thought it could be used as cover, for something that I am thinking about."
I sat up straighter. "Cover? What sort of nefarious deeds are you planning this time?"
He smiled, pleased with himself. "I knew that would catch your attention. Besides, a diversion to the costume shop would be just the thing to lift your spirits."
* * *
Juniper's sat at an odd corner where two canals met at a sixty degree angle. On the outside, the costume shop looked like an apartment building constructed in the modern style with sleek lines and painted a bright peach--the color of sunrise. Inside, the front display room was triangular in shape, crowded with faceless mannequins dressed in outlandish outfits. Most of the light was natural, coming in from the wide front windows.
Several other customers were browsing the wares, but the clerks seemed to notice our arrival almost immediately. The woman in a button down suit and a measuring tape for a scarf put herself in our path when we attempted to go further into the shop.
"May I help you, ma'am, sir?"
I glanced at Rhys who gave the woman a charming smile. The clerk seemed completely oblivious.
"Um, Rhys, you did say you wanted costumes to be, uh, a cover?" I prompted.
"Oh, right. Yes, I did say that, didn't I?"
"Could you be more specific by what you meant as a cover?" the clerk asked.
"Some black costumes," Rhys replied. "For both of us. Completely black. No silver trim or gold thread or anything like that." He shrugged. "Can you help me here, Ana? I'm not the world's expert on clothing."
"Well neither am I."
The clerk motioned towards the back of the shop. "I think I know what you mean, sir. The costumes on the first floor are all flashy, for people who want to draw attention to themselves. On the second floor, you will find more subtle designs. Right now, we are quite swamped with orders so we cannot do custom fittings right away, but we will try our best. Just head up the stairs. If you need help with anything, please let me know."
As the clerk had indicated, a winding stair at the back of the shop led up to the second floor. This part of the shop was silent. I doubted there was anyone here aside from the two of us.
There were no mannequins on this floor, only racks and racks of clothes. We wandered through them. Occasionally I would stop and pull out a dress, but then put it back. I wasn't a particularly picky person when it came to style, but none of the ones that I had seen so far had piqued my fancy.
While I was slowly going through the racks, Rhys had already chosen a few suits and had taken them to a small dressing room at the end of the room to try them on.
I eventually pulled out a dress from the racks that seemed appropriate and headed toward the small changing room. I still heard the rustle of clothes, so proceeded to wait.
A window looked out over the canal. Across the canal, several other buildings loomed, windows open, the inhabitants airing laundry. Beyond the rooftops, a spire stood out against the skyline. A spiral staircase wound itself on the outside of the structure like the skeleton of a conch--a strange architectural curiosity.
Out close to the horizon, the northern sea glimmered, the edges crowned with a series of stone and mortar levies. Much of the city was below sea level and a complicated network of pumps and dikes kept the streets of Haven dry. Most of the time.
Drawing my gaze down, I watched the pedestrians stroll by the street below, oblivious to eyes above. On the canal, a gondolier maneuvered his vessel under a bridge. His passenger reclined at the opposite end, a tricorn shielding his face from the sun.
That couldn't possibly...
"I'm done, Ana. The dressing room is all yours."
I turned to see Rhys coming out of the dressing room with the suits draped over an arm. "You picked one already?"
"Of course."
I glanced back through the window. The gondola was gone.
"Is something the matter?"
"I thought I saw..." I shook my head. "Never mind. I'm probably confusing one person for another. Everyone seems to be wearing the same types of hats these days."
The dressing room was surprisingly wide and spacious. A floor length mirror stood in one corner while the opposite end contained a bench and a chair. I quickly stripped off my sensible dark blue skirt and blouse and donned the dress which took longer than I had anticipated.
"Ma'am? Sir? Are you doing all right?" called out a voice from somewhere else on the second floor.
I heard Rhys reassure the clerk that we were still looking for the appropriate costumes. A moment later, there was a knock on the dressing room door.
"Are you all right, Ana? You've been in there for quite some time."
"I'm fine. It's just that I didn't realize that there were so many buttons on this garment."
There was a pause. "Buttons?"
"Are buttons going to ruin whatever plan you had in mind?"
"What color are they?"
"The same as this dress."
"I suppose that would be fine if everything is black."
I looked at myself in the mirror. The style was very old fashioned. Unlike contemporary fashion, the dress actually had a waist. It reminded me of the paintings of Renaissance women I had seen at a gallery I had once visited. But in contrast to the bright colors characteristic of that period, this was black. I looked like somebody's widow.
"Black is perfect for lurking about," I said out loud. "Precisely what are you planning to do during Carnival?"
"Break into the library."
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