Heart's tale

Chapter 7 part 1

Zara prepared food and oblivion-water for the regulars for the rest of the evening, took a small wicker basket with her, covered with a red cloth, and mechanically adjusting chairs after the customers, who were still rare at this hour, left the "Thirteenth Moon" pub her father had once bought. She moved through the darkening alleys toward the Old Quarter. The lanterns were lit, and even the messengers, who irritated her to the point of shivering in her head because they were always tangling under her feet and clinging to the hem of her many times darned dress, had lit their little lights, and their beams flickered with heart dust particles.

As she climbed the long stone stairs to the large elevator platform, she threw a coin into the machine and immediately pulled it out with a string tied to her finger. The small turnstile gave way, and she stepped onto the platform. There was a disgruntled grumble from behind, but Zara didn't even look back, staring at the metal figure in front of her. The signal lights came on, the grating that blocked access to the elevator from the turnstiles crawled down, and the elevator, twitching, crawled upward at an unbelievably slow pace.

Soon the girl discerned glittering ribbons of lights and heard music, and a few minutes later the elevator stopped in front of a neatly paved sidewalk that opened the way to houses, tidy in every sense, decorated with lanterns and garlands, between which flying kites floated, glowing with lights of heart dust, and couples strolled along the streets, fascinated with each other more than with the whole motley picture. They came down here from the middle tier to spend a romantic evening in the magic and comfort of the Old Quarter as darkness fell. Its buildings served as beacons for those who sought new tastes and wanted to tickle their nerves with an introduction to the less luxurious and safer life of the middle tier. It was a place where the upper class and the lower class met, not snorting and spitting at each other, but experiencing wonder and admiration, rediscovering something human in one another.

Zara walked past the illusionist, who let out pink smoke from his hat in the shape of a rabbit, which caused the crowd of children around to shout with delight, and a young man ventured and kissed a girl on the cheek, which made her as pink as the smoke from the magician's hat. The other couple put a gold coin in the mouth of a wooden heron on huge legs, and the heron straightened up and struck the blue balloon with its beak, from which a sparkling ring with a huge diamond fell out into the girl's hand. Zara smiled at the illusionist's boldness and walked past the dumbfounded couple, who seemed for the first time to have encountered an entertainment forbidden in the rest of the city, and turned onto an inconspicuous staircase that led down into an empty alley.

It was dark; only one lantern burned in the dead end above a heavy steel door with a peephole. Zara rang the bell and waited, shifting from foot to foot and staring at the flickering flames of heart dust in the lantern.

"What do you want?" a gruff voice came from behind the bars.

"Vififing," the girl hissed.

"Come again?" the voice said.

Zara exhaled and tried again:

"Vi-fi-fing."

"Oh..." the voice snorted and creaked the deadbolt.

The door, as if reluctantly, opened, and on the threshold Zara was met by a very small-sized man with huge ears, dressed in a police uniform. He was hurriedly pushing a stool to the side (he stood on it when he looked outside).

"Down the stairs and to the right," he said more calmly and scratched the hairy earlobe that reached to his shoulder.

The girl stepped inside and went downstairs. The door creaked open again, and it was so dark that Zara stumbled and almost fell, but held on, leaning on the wall with her free hand. Around the corner a light was already on, and behind a small wooden desk sat another policeman, extremely tall against the surrounding objects. When Zara entered, he immediately bumped his head, and papers spilled over him from the small shelves.