PERIWINKLE POV

Chapter One: Slurps and Burps

Disclaimer: None of these characters or plots belong to me (nor do most of the quotations). They belong to Shannon Messenger, author of Keeper of the Lost Cities.

"I'll be with you in two minutes," my father says without looking up as he hears the familiar belch of the door and senses that the customer is coming closer. My eyes dart upward and I only take a milisecond to process that there are two of them. I won't get distracted. My father adds a blob of orange slime to one of the test tubes. "Get ready to add the amarallitine, Dex," he says. I take a step back and take a pair of long tongs and take a glowing yellow vial. I carefully hold it over the beaker, digging my teeth into my lower lip in concentration.

"Ready?" I ask, waiting for my father's cue, waiting for the right moment to tilt it over and pour the amarallitine into the beaker. We've been working on it all day so far, but we haven't gotten it quite right. It's a struggle and I'd gate to mess it up again, especially considering we have such a high demand for these. They're special lamps that you hang up in your room that causes shadows of glowing animals appear all over at night - your ceiling, your walls... It's awesome - or at least, it would be if we at least get this right.

"Not yet," my father says, slipping on a pair of thick black glasses. Humans call them safety goggles - or so I'm told. My mother watches plenty of human movies, which makes it easy to know at least a little about them. I don't know why they chose that name, but that's what they did. My father stops me from thinking too much about the mysteries of the human naming process because he commands, "Okay. Now!"

He jumps back as I carefully pour the contents into the beaker, sucking in a breath and waiting. Not a second has passed before the beaker sparks and lets out an enormous eruption of smoke, engulfing the room with the smell of dirty feet. I wrinkle my nose, but just for a second, as I realize that we finally did it. My father removes his glasses and slaps me hard on the back. "First one we haven't exploded all day!" He lifts a hand for a high five and I slap it eagerly. The person at the counter clears her throat and my father finally looks up at the customer, lowering his hand. His eyes bulge. "Edaline!?" He might be trying to hide the question mark in his voice, but I still hear it, clear as day. "Is that really you?"

My aunt rarely leaves the house. She has amber hair that falls past her shoulders in soft curls and wide turquoise eyes. Ever since her daughter, Jolie, died, she stopped hosting events and parties. Just kept to herself and stopped going out. "Hello, Kesler," Edaline says, her voice soft and quiet as she speaks. It's clear that she sees the shock on my father's face, but she doesn't say much about it, just watches with a concerningly calm expression.

"Hello, Kesler," my father repeats in a shockingly uncanny impression of her voice. "That's all you have to say? Come over here and give me a hug!" I smirk to myself as I see Edaline roll her eyes, but she moves slowly toward my father. Like a slug. That's another human thing, I know. "You look good, Eda- but what are you doing here? You never come to town." Edaline smiles a little at her nickname. My mother Juline is her sister, and when they grew up together, Juline only called Edaline Eda. 

"I know," Edaline says, reaching into her handbag and digging out a slightly crumpled scrap of paper. She hands it to my father and he slowly reads it over, muttering to himself under his breath the names of the supplies. "Elwin said I need to get these for Sophie."

My eyes dart up the moment that Kesler speaks. "Sophie? Did I..." the pause is record winning. "Miss something?" Sure enough, a blond girl stands next to Edaline, her fingers tugging at an eyelash. Kesler's jaw falls as he sees the girl - Sophie. That would make her my cousin. My eyebrows raise a little at this - she'd be the only cousin I've ever had - if you don't include Jolie.