Tricks of the Trade - By Laura Anne Gilman Page 0,42
a favor... “Have you heard of a fatae called The Roblin?”
That got her attention, in a way I hadn’t expected. Her eyelids rose again, and a faint puff of burnt-rose smoke rose from her nostrils. “The Roblin? Here?”
“Yes.” My mouth had gone dry, but I got the words out. “A fatae, the klassvaak, came to the office, to warn us... said it came to do mischief.”
It was difficult to tell with dragons, but I thought, rather nervously, that Madame looked worried.
“Missschief he isssss, missschief he doesss,” she said. The same thing the fatae had said, earlier that day.
“Madame?” I was hoping for something a little more specific – or useful – than that.
“Sssstay far from The Roblin, Bonnnnita,” she said, drawing back and curling her body into a pose I recognized as dismissal. “Sssstay far from it, and hope it ssstays far from you.”
And that was all she would say. I took a single bouquet of the peach roses, the scent of their bruised petals filling my nostrils, and went home.
“Attn pssngrs. The gee trn will be making all stops to sebthmurph and then going express. Pls take the mumble train to... splutterstatic... . There will be no service on the... splatterstatic... . Shuttle buses willl be available.”
It was a normal enough occurrence in a city the size of New York, with a mass transit system as old and vast as the Electric Apple, even without the added complexity of Talent occasionally shorting things out. Except, when the passengers piled out of the station and looked, there were no buses waiting; the drivers had received orders to assemble two stations down the line. A series of grumbles, groans, and exasperated sighs met this turn of events, which also would have been a normal enough occurrence, except that across Queens, similar areas of confusion broke out as trains were diverted for no reason, buses didn’t arrive, and transit workers and passengers alike began to lose their cool, trying to get home.
With digital communication carrying the news across the city via mobile phones and laptops, the mood soured, feeding the feelings of persecution and annoyance until it felt as though a chain of riots would break out, with everyone blaming the transit authority, and the transit workers not knowing what was going on, either.
“Folks, just wait for the bus – ”
“There is no bus!”
The cop was outnumbered, and out of energy. “There will be, ma’am, if you’ll just wait... ”
“Don’t you tell me that! I’ve been waiting for half an hour already. There is no bus!”
A mutter of agreement greeted that, with more than one person checking their cell phone or watch again to prove how long they’d been there.
The cop glared at the commuters, almost daring them to do something. His eyes were odd in the evening light, the blue turning almost to gold, and several of the passengers shuffled away, suddenly awkward or nervous despite their anger.
A black sedan slid along the curb, with two others coming down the crowded street behind, like sharks drawn to a blood-spill. The window of the first car rolled down and the driver, a middle-aged man in a suit, asked “Anyone need car service?”
Two minutes later, he was full up, pocketing cash, and the next livery car was taking his place even as he pulled away. The cop watched, frowning, as the crowd faded, either waiting for more cars, or setting off on foot, their anger pushed aside under the grim determination to not waste any more time, but get home.
Too quickly, what had seemed like surefire chaos became an empty street corner, not even the usual pedestrians normally visible this time of evening left to stir up.
“That wasn’t as much fun as I thought,” the cop said, rubbing his chin with one oddly gnarled hand. “What is it with this city, anyway?” He took off his cap and scrubbed at his white hair, then slammed the cap back on as inspiration hit. “More challenge, that’s what’s needed. These people are all too simple – simple wants, simply fixed. I need something – no, someone more complicated.” It cocked its head as though listening to something, its leathery nostrils twitched, scenting something, and then a disturbing grin spread across its face, showing more, and more jagged teeth than a human would have.
“Yes, yes. I remember you. I caught scent of you when I came in... . Not larger, but trickier. Sometimes a small trick is the best. Let’s do that then, yes,” it said