Immortal Memory (Iris' Atlantis 1)

13: Wolfsbane and Winter Roses

Hellebore

"Catnip," I addressed the young woman.

I heard a click and felt warm humid air on my face. She was unloading the washing machine.

"When you have a moment, could you heat up a piece of mushroom pie and bring it to my table?"

"Sure, boss. Taking a break?" Her tone made it a question. I rarely ate on a table.

"A friend is coming. I value their time."

"Ah. It's Alfonso."

I smiled to myself. In the air around me I felt her curiosity like a small current. Marquise came to push her head against my side. I patted her on the soft silky neck.

"I am not sure," I told her honestly.

Catnip snorted. "Right. I'll get the pie. Do you want something?"

I shook my head.

My hand found the smooth handle of a glass pot. I poured two cups. Behind my back, I heard Catnip placing plates, cups and cutlery onto the counter. She had long since lost her fascination with a blind man pouring tea. On a whim, I snatched a small plate from my right and a glass of clean water.

I took the tray into the public side of the shop. There had been few customers throughout the day. I personally blamed the approaching exams. Students were skipping lectures in favor of finishing essays before the term ended. They didn't navigate to the campus, and consequently didn't feel like meeting up for idle chit chat. Exams were bad for business.

No, no they weren't actually. Because once they were over, students suddenly remembered all the friends they hadn't seen and all the shops they hadn't visited and came to celebrate the term's end. But today was still silent.

I had just set a tray to a table, when I heard the little chime above the entrance.

For a moment I stood, one hand over the armchair I had intended to claim.

Then I heard a sound that made my heart skip a beat: A little timid tock. Another.

Tock, tock, tock-tock.

Silence.

A shifting chair. They had seated themselves and were waiting.

I wished I had telepathic powers and could have summoned Catnip from the kitchen. But, as things stood, I had to go myself.

I felt their aura. It was slightly agitated. Curious. I lifted the tea tray again, loading onto it the plate and the water glass. I didn't know what was on the plate. Which was rarely a problem. But now, as I approached the table where I knew they had just sat, I felt naked.

I experienced a sudden urge to straighten my vest. Ridiculous as it was.

I lay the tray on the table.

"Enjoy," I invited them.

I was more than ready for a quick retreat, when I heard the female high pitched voice, hoarse of age. It belonged to a lady of middle-age. Somewhere between forty and sixty. I didn't smell traces of tobacco on her, so I bet past fifty.

"Are you the owner? They say he's a young man."

"Yes," I admitted unwillingly. It was a principle for me not to lie. Iris help me, it was a silly line to draw, considering everything I had done in my long life. But I wasn't going to lie. Especially not for those that deserved the truth as it was. I felt I owed it to her.

"People call me Hellebore," I offered.

"They say the owner is blind," she continued.

I opened my mouth to say yes, but instead gritted my teeth and confessed: