Morning Star (Sins of the Father 3)

“Just so we’re on the same page, it’s going to be a leather bracer, right?” I slapped my wrist lightly, like my body didn’t trust her to remember our past discussions on the matter. “I’m really not into the idea of a leather thong.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course. More convenient for you. There’s a good chance you’ll never have to take it off your body, and that way you’ll always be protected.”

I nodded, then with some satisfaction, reached across the counter to hand her what was owed. We didn’t even bother with matters of paying half upfront, then the remaining balance later. Magical contracts, even seemingly mundane ones for sales and transactions, were very much binding. And as Belphegor proved earlier that day, their terms could apparently be enforced in creatively painful ways.

“Wonderful. It’s a pleasure doing business with you.” Beatrice accepted the stack of bills without even counting them, which probably meant progress in terms of our friendship. She stuffed it all into an ornate filigreed lockbox that appeared to need her fingerprint, a series of complicated gestures, and a barely-whispered passcode to open.

Closing the lockbox with a decisive click, she swept a lock of hair away from her face, sighed, then spoke again.

“Listen, both of you. I’m sorry again about how I behaved the last time we saw each other.”

Florian coughed softly into his hand. “You mean when you turned your shop into a nightmare house and attacked us with your entire supply of raw materials?”

I drummed my fingernails on her countertop, narrowing my eyes at her. “You mean when you levitated every needle, pin, and pair of scissors in the place and tried to bleed us to death?”

The tips of Beatrice’s ears reddened, and she huffed, folding her arms. “Don’t make this harder than it already is. Look, I’m sorry, okay? It was a tough decision for me to make, and in the end, I don’t think that surrendering my soul to Arachne would have been the right thing to do. There are other ways to acquire power.”

I rubbed my forearm, exchanging a slightly guilty glance with Florian. “Yeah, well, to be fair, it turns out that Arachne kind of had the right idea all along. The two of you hiding Laevateinn meant that Loki wouldn’t be able to pull off his master plan, which we did end up stopping. In the end, Arachne telling you to keep the sword would have meant just waiting for the boil to pop.” I picked up an invisible pin, then stabbed it downwards, pretending to poke into an invisible abscess. “Me and Florian, we sort of sped up the process and lanced the boil. It was hella messy, but at least it’s over.”

Beatrice wrinkled her nose. “I mean, I feel like you could have used less disgusting analogies, but I see your point.” Then the left corner of her mouth turned up, like she was trying to smile. “And thanks for understanding.”

“And anyway,” I said, trying to perk up the conversation. “Something sort of good came out of it in the end. We got a new pet.” I pulled the teeny tiny cube out of my pocket, rested it on Beatrice’s counter, then leaned in to whisper. “It’s okay, boy. We’re all friends here.”

With a resounding, wooden thud, Box expanded to his full size and clunked onto the table. Beatrice’s eyes went wide – with horror, I thought at first – but she clapped her hands once and gave a delighted squeal.

“It’s a mimic! Where did you find it? Aww, I’ve always wanted one for a pet.” She bent closer, patting Box along the top of his lid. Unlike with Loki, this time he didn’t react by snapping at her fingers.

Florian joined the little love fest, offering his own pats, which Box gratefully accepted. “Long story, but he followed us home, and he’s actually been super helpful.”

“Tell me about it.” Beatrice riffled through her drawers, pulling out a handful of mismatched buttons that Box was only too eager to take as a treat. She smiled as he munched and crunched away. “They’re so good for storage. There’s a reason they look like treasure chests, you know.”

My eyes lit up. “We just found out today. He sucked up a whole pile of treasure, then spat it out again later like it was nothing.”

Beatrice nodded. “They’ve got a bunch of stomachs, and I’m pretty sure a few of them are dedicated just to keeping things. It’s why wizards and dragons love them so much. Oh, and for other reasons, too. They’re arguably better than guard dogs because nobody sees them coming. Like, there’s just no warning. One moment you’re just a cat burglar, standing next to a potted plant. Next minute?” She sliced her hand across her throat, making a rasping noise. “Headless. Decapitated. Dead.”

“Badass,” Florian muttered.

“And they’re really good at detecting other things in disguise, too. I mean, a mimic will easily recognize another mimic, but camouflage is so second nature to them that they’ll also easily spot someone or something that might be under the protection of illusory magic. A glamour, for example, or even a full metamorphic transformation.”

I patted Box on the head. “I admit, that part I didn’t know about. He’s even handier than I thought.”

“Plus,” Beatrice said, feeding him another handful of buttons, “they eat just about anything. Upkeep is so easy.”

Box belched, then licked at her fingers with his huge, horrible tongue. Beatrice cooed again. “Aww. Sweet little baby.”

I let Beatrice and Box get to know each other for a couple more minutes before I broke the bad news. “Listen, I’m glad you two are getting along so well, but we’ve got to be heading back home. We’ll probably want to stop for dinner someplace, too.”

“Ooh. Can I come?”

I blinked at her in quiet surprise. Beatrice Rex looked so genuinely hopeful that I felt like saying “No” would have shattered something inside her. Plus, there was no reason that she couldn’t come along. We were maybe, probably, finally learning to become friends.

“Sure. We’ll help you close up. If there are no objections, I was thinking we could all grab some fried chicken?”

Both Beatrice and Florian hummed noises of approval, and the three of us went around shuttering windows, locking doors, and throwing drapes over creepy, slowly shifting leather goods that may or may not have been still alive. But partway through, Beatrice rushed to her counter, hurriedly sifting through the drawers for something.

I followed her, seeing that there was nothing else around the shop that needed turning down. “What’s up? What’re you looking for?”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you. Someone came by earlier today and left a note for you.”