Jack Of All Trades ✓ | steampunk, dragons, trickery

Chapter 2.1: Jack of the Kaleidoscope

The next day's first duty of order was to ring for Ann Smithe. Jack dialed the number from The Kaleidoscope office. It rang twice and her secretary picked up.

"Hell-oh?" came Madam Applesmead's thin, aging voice.

"It's Jack Ogswold." Jack smiled into the receiver. "Is Missus Smithe available now, Madam?"

There was a long pause as the old secretary processed the words. Jack could just imagine the letters going into the ear, slowly forming the words to match the sound, and then the brain cracking its knuckles and getting to work to processing.

"Ah, yes, Mister Ogswold." Applesmead paused. "Yes, she is here." There was some scuffling as their old candlestick phone passed from old hands to younger hands. 

Jack remembered Ann's hands quite well as he had watched her work. There was one scar on her left hand shaped like a tail fin that she loved to talk about when asked how she got it. He didn't believe the ridiculous story about how she saved a mermaid.

"Jack!" came Ann's delighted voice through the phone. "I was wondering if you would ever call me. I've been seeing those posters again but this time no artists were made known yet and I was wondering—"

Jack laughed and stuffed his hand in his pocket. "And good morning to you, too, Ann."

"Oh, how rude of me. Good morning, Jack."

"It was purposeful, Ann. Word of mouth, really. More people who have never heard of you but heard of The Kaleidoscope will come. Amp up the business, so to speak."

Static came into his ear as she breathed into it. "So, I am-er, you are-um—"

"I was calling to request."

She gave her signature delighted squeak. "Is there a theme this time? Last you had that Bring the Forest to the City theme, which was splendid. Splendid sales and new fans. I even received some letters of appreciation in the mail. One even by a little girl, only six, quite adorable thing she said. She said that my art 'ip-spyers' her," Ann said and spelled it out the way the little girl did, "I think I may have created a new Ann Smithe. Fuel the education, they say."

"Wonderful!" Jack said. "The theme this time," he said and paused. He had thought of it last night when he was staring at the dragon's breath necklace. "Magick Unto Reality."

With an intake of breath, she said, "And what has inspired a firm disbeliever to bring in the magick, Jack?"

"A street seller. Quite the chap, say, have you heard of dragon's breath?"

Ann laughed. "One of my favorite tales. It's about the Enchantress."

"Enlighten me. I haven't time to do the digging myself." Jack sat down in his chair and hovered his pen over a piece of paper. He would use the story to set up the gallery with the appropriate decorations.

"Well, the Enchantress wanted the power of dragons. Dragons have the strongest magick in the entire world. She found their realm and—"

"Hold, a realm?" Jack jotted down his notes. "As in another world? A room? A—"

"It's another world. It can be found in Belvinshire, so it's said."

"Of course!" Jack scribbled a word down. "Dragon's Wood. Wasn't that where that prize-winning scientist went for his ground-breaking energy discovery?"

"That's it. What was his name? Dr. Brown or Green or some—"

"One of those colors. And so?"

"But back then it was just Belvinshire Wood. Anyhow, the Enchantress found the gateway and then captured the dragons' souls into stones. She did that by drawing out their last breaths. Their last breath is what makes the stones different colors because the dragons had different colors. A blue dragon's last breath made the stone blue. That's why it's called dragon's breath."