Girl of Iron and Magic

29.

29.
9 YEARS BEFORE THE WAR

The next morning, Lotte woke up to find Poe, Mr. Henri and Mrs. Treebald sitting together over breakfast. It was an odd sight and would've been odder, if the atmosphere surrounding them wasn't so grim.

This new creature was a puzzle to her. She had so many questions that she didn't even know what to ask first. She hadn't been able to get to sleep last night.

She had crept out of her bed and tried to listen at the door of Mr. Henri's study, but, although she could smell them both inside, she couldn't hear anything—not a sound.

It was magic. Again magic.

She had done magic.

And it wasn't the first time. There was that time, years and years and years ago—it seemed like a dream now when she thought of it—that an elven boy had sprung out of her drawing and had talked to her.

"Good morning," she said, staring unblinkingly at Poe.

"Disan anar, sylnan" the elf replied.

"Good morning," Mr. Henri said quietly.

Mrs. Treebald didn't say anything at all. She ate mechanically, bringing her food to her mouth and chewing very slowly. At one point, she even brought up her fork empty but didn't appear to notice it.

Like Lotte, all her attention was on the elf.

"Poppin," Mr. Henri said. While he was dressed as neatly as he always did, there was no colour in his clothes. Everything he wore was black and grey. Even his face looked grey. "Please have a seat, there is something we need to tell you."

Lotte edged towards the table, slipping into a chair across from Mr. Henri and right next to Poe. She didn't have much of an appetite, so she was happy no one was offering her any food.

"Poppy," Mr. Henri said. "There is no easy way to say this..." Mr. Henri twined his fingers together and sighed. "After discussing it long and hard with Mr. Poe last night, we have come to the conclusion that, for your own safety, it would be best that..."

Mr. Henri swallowed hard and proceeded with looking lost.

"What Mr. Treebald is trying to say," said Poe. "Is that you must begin to learn to be caival."

Lotte's heart skipped a beat. This wasn't a bad thing. It was good. It was what she wanted. She smiled at Poe and then looked at Mr. Henri, feeling puzzled at his expression.

"This means, my dear, that you will have to leave us," Mr. Henri said. "This undertaking will be...dangerous for humans."

Lotte's smile vanished. "Leave?"

"We'll remain in Raidox," Poe said. "It is safest for you...here." He frowned. "For now."

"Next week," Mr. Henri said. "We'll bury that doll. The grave will bear the name Poppin Treebald, and you will start anew."

Lotte began shaking. To leave? She didn't want to leave. She liked it here. She was only getting started. She turned from Mr. Henri to Poe, outraged...but his expression stopped her short.

She couldn't believe that only yesterday, she thought she didn't understand the elf's expression. But now he spoke clearly with his eyes, staring straight into her heart.

Maybe it was magic. Some subtle, subversive kind of magic. She didn't really know how to put those suspicions to words and even as she thought them, she knew they weren't true.

He reached over and patted her back. She tried to hold back her tears, but a couple escaped her eyes and clattered onto her plate.

"It's for the best," Mr. Henri said, more to himself. "You will be safe, you will have close guidance." He reached over and took her hand. "I think...I think even you knew it wasn't going to be forever. We were blessed to have you, and the art world too. You'll never be forgotten."