The Welkinbane

Chapter 2: Angry Aunt Astrid and The Mysterious Inheritance

Chapter 2: Angry Aunt Astrid and The Mysterious Inheritance

SQUINTS woke up late the next day on her mattress that had seen better days in her and Kaiya’s tiny apartment that was little more than a room. She rubbed her hands over her face then tucked her arms behind her head before thinking on the happenings of the night before. It had been a nice thing the Lady had done by getting the constables to let her go, but she still didn’t trust her. No one could really trust the aristocrats, they only had their own comfort in mind.

She rolled nimbly out of bed and pulled on her boots before joining Kaiya at the small table they had by the pitifully minuscule window that sat, rather depressingly so, on a wall that had peeling paint and faded trim. Their abode wasn’t much to look at, but they had very little money to get them anywhere after Kaiya’s father had been murdered, so they took what they could get. It was definitely a huge step down for Kaiya, but for Squints this was actually not bad. She’d lived in worse.

“Wot ye readin’?” Asked Squints as she peered over the paper Kaiya had propped up and was reading while drinking some very weak tea.

“The new Royal Society papers.” Replied Kaiya.

“Ye know, I wuz thinkin’...” Squints began and she waited until Kaiya looked up from her reading before continuing. “I wuz thinkin’, we prolly shouldna get te Lady involved wif our troubles.”

“Why not? She’ll be helpful.”

“I dunna trust ‘er.”

“You don’t have to.” Was Kaiya’s curt answer.

“Ye didna tell ‘er every’tin’.” Accused Squints.

“Couldn’t trust her with everything yet could I?” Kaiya replied, defending herself.

“Ye could get ‘er hurt.” Squints said with a scowl. Any provider of good nibblies was definitely worth defending in Squints’ book. She may not trust the Lady but she sure didn’t want to get her hurt. She’d been kind when she didn’t have to be.

“Don’t worry. All will be well.” Replied Kaiya cryptically, looking back to her papers, obviously dismissing the conversation. Squints just kept glaring at her for the course of the next five minutes until Kaiya, annoyed at not being left to read in peace, slapped her papers down with an exasperated exhalation of air and looked Squints dead in the eyes. “I promise I won’t get her into any trouble I can’t get her out of. Is that sufficient?”

Squints just nodded and grabbed the dry loaf of bread they’d pinched on their way home that morning. She cut a chunk off with her belt knife before tearing into it like a starving man. One thing was to be said about good eating, the more one ate of good food the more hungry they were the next day. Settling herself down in the opposite chair she set her feet on the table and gnawed on the bread. The two of them sat that way for a time before Kaiya had finished reading her article and set the papers down for the final time.

“I’d like you to go and keep an eye on the warehouse on Privet Street where we think they’ve been keeping the blueprints. I’ll go get Rowena and the keys and meet you back there at dusk.” Kaiya said, downing the last of her tea with a wince. She hadn’t gotten used to weak tea, and having such good tea the previous night didn’t do much to help her cope with her current situation.

“Allrightie. I’ll be seein’ ye later ta’night.” Squints said and took her feet off the table to stand. Kaiya just nodded in her direction as Squints snagged her coat and stuffed her mass of unkempt hair of indeterminable color under a cap and strode out the door.

Squints tromped down the stairs, wending her way through drying wash, trash, and the occasional misplaced child before exiting out of the side entrance to the building and continuing her way down the alley. It had taken Squints less time to find the building she was on her way towards now, originally, than it would have taken a team of searchers. It was an easy thing to locate the building, brick with large upper windows and small ones on the second floor, as it had originally been a warehouse for dyeing vats of cloth for the middle class merchants that Lord Archibauld Fairchild worked with. She used to talk with the workers there and shared a joke or two and perhaps some lunch if she was lucky. One day, shortly after Kaiya’s father was murdered, she’d gone for a visit and no one was there. Not a soul.