Lucky Rabbit

“I’m sorry,” Pandy said, at the same moment her companion murmured, “Excuse us, please.” They were forging their way to the other side of the square from ‘Needle and Treads’, and somehow one or both of them managed to step on someone or something every few feet. As Pandy had so often done in her past life, they soon gave up on apologizing for each incident and simply offered a steady flow of, “Pardon me. Excuse me. Sorry,” until they finally reached an unoccupied bit of wall.

Both women leaned back against this bastion of refuge, tilting their faces up as they sighed in relief. Then they rolled their heads to the side, met each other’s eyes, and began to laugh. Pandy wasn’t certain what her own laughter sounded like, but the other woman had a delicate giggle that she hid behind her hand until she could choke out, “His face. Oh, how many times have I wished I could tell him exactly what I think of him, and that lady did, and he ran away.”

She tittered once more before letting her hand fall, amusement draining away. “Not that he would’ve run away if I said all that, about how ugly his designs are, and the shop looks so cheap and worn out. He acts as if we seamstresses are the reason no one will buy those awful clothes, and he won’t pay us to clean up, so it doesn’t get done!”

Pandy shook her head. “How does someone like that end up owning a dress shop in the first place?”

“It was his mother’s,” her new acquaintance said. She started out whispering, then glanced around, shrugged, and continued at a normal tone, which was good, because the square was noisy. “She died about a year ago, and he took over. He’d learned shoe-making from his father, and he does well enough at that, so he thought it would be easy to just do it all himself. It worked out for a little while, but then he fired my aunt, who did all the designs, and since then…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

Pandy’s eyes widened as she finally remembered why she’d gone into the shop in the first place. “Wait, are you Gwen?”

The other woman’s eyes widened as well. “Do I know you? No, I can’t. I would definitely remember-” She bit her lip, but her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out who Pandy was.

Quickly,  Pandy waved her hands. “Oh, no! But I met your other aunt, Saskia, and your cousin Luca at the market a few weeks ago.”

Gwen flinched, just a bit. “Saskia was Luca’s father’s sister,” she said. “I suppose we’re related somehow, technically, but Luca’s mother is my only aunt.”

Pandy absorbed this, along with the flinch. It didn’t seem like Gwen disliked Saskia, exactly, just that she was worried that people might think she was related to the strange woman by blood. Deciding to just skip over the whole subject, Pandy hurried on. “I bought some clothes from Saskia and Luca, and Luca said that if I ever needed more, I should leave a message with you. I didn’t mean to get you fired.”

The other woman sighed. “It wasn’t really your fault, and it only hastened the inevitable, anyway. I doubt Helmer will be able to keep the shop open past midwinter. Right now he’s surviving on the sale of shoes, but he’s not really that good of a cobbler, either. He can only make simple, practical footwear, not ones that sell for enough money to pay rent and our salaries. I do wish I’d been able to make it until payday, though. He’ll claim he’s keeping my final wages to cover the damage.”

Pandy checked how much gold she had. Almost nine hundred. She’d need five hundred of that later today, but surely Gwen didn’t get paid enough to put a dent in the rest? she thought, and found herself with a sudden handful of heavy, slippery little disks, which attempted to squeeze through her fingers and drop to the ground. Remembering the panic in the dining hall after she dropped a single gold, Pandy grimly clung to them until they settled into a stable configuration, at which point she held them out to Gwen.

“Is this enough?” she asked, motioning for the other woman to take it. “I can get more, if you need it.”

Gwen stared at the coins with the expression of a dog shown the biggest, juiciest rack of lamb it had ever seen in its life. Her fingers twitched. “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly,” she said, as she reached for the stack.

Pandy poured the handful into the other girl’s palm, glad to be rid of it. “It’s fine. You can, um, think of it as payment for taking a message to Luca and Saskia.”

The young seamstress still couldn’t tear her eyes away from the buttery coins. Without looking up, she said, “Yes, of course.” With a clear effort of will, she managed to lift dazed and watering eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered, then flung her arms around Pandy. Tears soaked Pandy’s shoulder, but somewhat to her surprise, she didn’t get any notifications about Tears of the Innocent. This girl seemed very innocent to her.

“I’ve been engaged forever,” Gwen managed to choke out, “and I love him ever so much, but our parents won’t let us marry until we can buy our own house, and we’ve been saving and saving, but I thought… I thought…”

Gingerly, Pandy patted her on the back. “Do you need more, then? I mean, I’m not really using it for anything, and-”

Gwen reared back, looking around at the stream of oblivious humanity flowing past their small patch of relative peace. “Shhh!” she hissed. “Never, ever let anyone know you have more money than you need. Haven’t you ever heard the saying, ‘A fool and her money are soon parted?’”

Pandy didn’t exactly consider herself a fool, but she could see how she might come across that way at times, so she didn’t take offense. “Then you don’t need any more?”

The other girl straightened up, wiped her eyes, and tugged at her skirts, which parted to reveal a cleverly hidden pocket, much like the ones Suzanne had sewn into the girls’ uniform skirts. Dropping the coins inside, she said primly, “No, thank you, and would you like to go speak to Luca and Saskia yourself?”

Pandy’s face almost split in a grin. She could see more of the city, and with a local guide. It was an adventure! The good kind, where no one was dying. Which reminded her of Augustus, and she stood on her tiptoes, peering over the crowd as best she could. Eurydice Haupe was the same height as Ms. Wellington, of course, which was a bit on the short side, so she couldn’t see much, but there, on the upstream side of the traffic flow, was a broad-shouldered man with dark hair. He wasn’t wearing his russet jacket any more, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, but somehow she was certain it was Augustus.

“Just a moment,” she told Gwen, then hurried over and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, and for a moment she thought it wasn’t Augustus after all, because this man had a distinct underbite, and his eyes squinted so much beneath his heavy brows that it was difficult to tell what color they were. Then the corner of his mouth lifted, and she knew she’d been right. “Augustus? What are you-?”

He caught her elbow and turned her back toward Gwen. As they approached, between one stride and the next, his jaw receded, his shoulders straightened, and the heavy, threatening brow lifted. By the time he held out a hand to the young seamstress, he looked like Augustus again, albeit a somewhat disguised Augustus, because Pandy could now see that he had deliberately rubbed at his eyebrows until they spread wildly in every direction, as well as applying a bit of dirt onto his jawline to simulate a five o’clock shadow, and combing his hair to the side, rather than straight back.

In spite of all this, though, his voice held the easy confidence it always did when dealing with other people as he said, “I’m pleased to meet you. You may call me Auggie.”

Gwen blinked and accepted the hand. As he bowed over hers – no lips involved – she said, “Gwen. I’m pleased to meet you, too.” She gave Pandy a quizzical glance.

“Auguuuu, um, eeees my friend,” Pandy offered, blushing. “We were looking at the displays together, when I decided to stop at your shop and ask about Gwen. I mean, you.” She stopped, frowning as she looked at Augustus.

“Where did you go, anyway? I mean, I can understand not wanting to step into the middle of that, but usually you-” She waved her hand, trying to indicate without words how he tended to tease her, then trust her, then speak with so much honesty it was almost painful, and always, always turn up whenever she needed him.

Augustus rubbed at his jaw, smudging the artistically placed dirt even further. “I saw someone I knew,” he admitted. “It was unexpected, and I probably didn’t react well. I should have said something.”

Gwen was looking back and forth between them, and with every word they spoke, she grew more starry eyed. At this, she clasped her hands together beneath her chin. “Oh, how nice,” she sighed. “I do hope you’ll bring him to my wedding.” She looked suddenly flustered. “Of course you’re invited, Eurydice. It won’t be large, but I know Owen will want you there as much as I do.”

Augustus’s brows rose, and he looked at Pandy expectantly. Well, she could tell him the story later, because right now, she had things to do, and, she suddenly realized, barely three hours in which to do it. Turning to Gwen, she said, “How far away is Luca’s house? I just remembered I have to be… somewhere, before two o’clock. I do want to talk to Luca and Saskia, but I may have to visit on another day.”

“It’s not far,” Gwen hurried to assure her. “They just got a new cart, but their old one wasn’t very sturdy, and it couldn’t go far without losing a wheel or a board rattling loose, so they had to live nearby. Aunt Mira and Uncle Simon bought a little house about ten minutes away on foot, and Saskia moved in with them when she,” she swallowed hard, eyes flicking away, “came to Knightsmere.”

Somehow, Pandy knew without looking that Augustus’s eyes had just narrowed, but Pandy smiled brightly and waved her hand. “Lead on then, and we’ll be right behind you!”

Gwen did, weaving her way expertly through the crowds, one hand resting protectively over the opening to her skirt pocket. Now that the judges had been through, some of the people who didn’t think their goods had a chance of winning anything were selling their items, and groups of potential buyers gathered around them, leaving narrow but clear paths in between the carts. Just in the time they’d been talking, more people had gone off to other parts of the city, too, and many of the carriages that had lined the streets leading away from Lanthorne Court had vanished.

It took a bit more than ten minutes to reach Luca and Saskia’s house, but that was only to be expected. Soon enough, Gwen came to a stop in front of a building that was indeed very small, and showed subtle signs of neglect. The superficial things, like the bright white paint, the pretty yellow curtains, and the abundant plants in the windowboxes, were well-maintained, but a few of the clay shingles were broken, and one windowpane had a spiderweb of cracks in the upper left corner. A surprisingly nice wooden cart sat in front of the house, though there was no sign of a horse.

“Here we are,” Gwen said. Stepping up to the door, she knocked twice, paused, then knocked twice more before throwing an apologetic grimace over her shoulder at Pandy and Augustus.

After a moment, a voice spoke through the door. “Who is it?”

Gwen sighed. “It’s Gwen, Saskia. It’s always Gwen. No one else comes to visit because you’re like this.”

Now Pandy could hear the heavy accent in the voice, even through the muffling effect of the heavy wooden door. The surprisingly solid, heavy wooden door. “No one comes because they know they are not welcome,” Saskia said. “What you want?”

This time Gwen’s sigh caused her bodice to strain at the seams. “You have a customer. She wants to talk to Luca.”

A pause. Then, “She go to market. Next week. Not now.”

“She’s really nice,” Gwen tried. “She says you already made her something, and she just wants more.”

“More?” Saskia asked, sounding somewhat incredulous. Did she not get return customers? Admittedly, she was a little odd and slightly abrasive, but the clothes she made for Pandy were top notch. Even the System knew they were Excellent quality.

Pandy leaned toward the door, even though she knew perfectly well that it wouldn’t really make a difference. “Um, hello? Saskia? You may not remember me. I’m, um,” she tried to think of a way to identify herself without saying Ms. Wellington’s name or taking off her pretty new necklace. “Vrazhal?” she said. She wasn’t sure she got it exactly right, but she did her best to hit the guttural growl on the ‘zh’ sound. “Tenebral? Uh, volkhe-”

She stopped as the door flew open, and a wiry arm thrust out, grasping her wrist. “Inside,” Saskia hissed, looking not at all surprised that Pandy wasn’t the pale, brown-haired, hazel-eyed Ms. Wellington. Saskia’s dark eyes flicked to Gwen and Augustus, and then she jerked her head for them to follow her as well. All three stepped into the brightly-lit house.