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𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐧
Cardan gave the bicycle bell two good dings, sending the small party of humans that had been walking in front of him scattering in all directions. It was an abuse of power, given that he wasn't actually riding the bicycle, but that didn't make it any less fun.
Onto his next victim, now.
Moving with feather-light steps, he snuck close behind a stuffy fellow in a brown suit. Three...two...
Ding! Ding!
The man threw himself up against a wall.
'Dude!'
Cardan didn't know what that word meant, but it sounded sassy. He mentally stowed it for later use.
A huffing noise came from the woman walking beside him. Matching his pace, Jude was pouring over the letter they had found affixed to her cafe door. It had been addressed to her, and Cardan had not been allowed so much as a peek at it.
'It should have been addressed to me,' he muttered dejectedly.
'It is,' she muttered back, 'but it's complicated.'
'Then why—'
'Shh, I'm still reading.'
'But—'
'Shh.'
'How dare—'
'Shh!'
Cardan hated being shushed, almost as much as he hated being excluded from gossip. The letter was from Nicasia, of that he was certain. The orange blossom and coconut scent of her stationery was unmistakable. He caught another cloying whiff of it and found himself instantly transported to the slow, saltwater suffocation of the Undersea. He felt nauseous. He needed to shake this feeling.
He looked up.
And saw sky, not sea. It was just a sliver of stars glittering faintly between the sky scrapers, but it was his view to claim. Strange how things so far away should make him feel so grounded. His gaze fell back to earth and landed upon Jude. She was folding and pocketing the letter with an air of grim finality. At last, he might finally have some answers.
'I'm not sure how much I can tell you without risking a curse upon Nicasia,' came her entirely unhelpful conclusion.
'So, change the names,' he suggested. 'You can lie, remember? I do so wish you'd make better use of that talent.'
