Autumn broke out in earnest, and it was no wonder Erris wanted to be outdoors, as the woods erupted in shades of furious red and cheerful gold, dotted with the permanent green-black fringe of fir and spruce.
Early one morning, Celestina and I laced each other into our corsets and donned our best dresses and hats and gloves so we could go to town for supplies.
Violet raged that she could not go. I stayed out of her way, but I heard her throwing things, and Celestina emerged flushed from the effort of calming her down.
“Usually she likes staying with Lean Joe,” she said. “He’s happy to take the day off and play games with her. I guess it’s just been too much excitement.”
“Maybe we should take her,” Erris said.
Celestina’s mouth opened. “But she’s sick! And even with the enchantment as protection, we can’t risk the townspeople seeing her.”
Erris shrugged, apparently thinking it not worth arguing about. He fussed with his ponytail. “Do you think I should cut my hair? None of the men in town wear it long like this. I worry they’ll recognize me as a fairy.”
“I saw men with hair longer than yours in New Sweeling,” I said.
“This is hardly New Sweeling,” Celestina said.
But in the end, we decided it was better not to take the time to fuss with Erris’s hair. Celestina loaned him a bowler of Ordorio’s to make him look more respectable. Lean Joe readied the horses, and we rode to town piled into a rattling cart. Celestina became quite businesslike at the reins, her gloved hands capable, her back straight as a tree, with a fine little hat atop her head, but I knew going to town made her as nervous as it made me.
In fact, Erris seemed the most relaxed when he should have been the biggest oddity of all, a clockwork fairy with the hair of a city aesthete. He made most of the conversation on the trip, effusively complimenting Ordorio’s fine brown pacers, although I was sure they must have been nothing compared to the royal fairy horses, which were known throughout the world. But then, I suppose he hadn’t seen those horses in an awfully long time.
Cernan was a larger town than I had realized from the train station alone. To be sure, it was no city, but it was, as my old dancing troupe manager used to say, “worth a dime, not a penny.” Two streets ran parallel with a plaza in the middle, where merchants set up booths of wares like fruit and even birds in tiny cages. I had often passed a similar plaza in New Sweeling, only it had a statue in the center instead of the gloomy obelisk Celestina told us was to commemorate the casualties of some shipwreck.
Celestina marched into a shop without any word for the craggy old men milling about in front, smoking pipes and muttering to one another in some unfamiliar language. Erris and I hurried after her.
Inside, the shop was lit by spacious windows but no gaslight. Two younger men lounged at the counter, almost identical in their worn hats and vests. When they stared at us, Erris adjusted his bowler to a jaunty angle. No one else in town seemed to be wearing bowlers. I nudged him to move along.
“Celestina,” one of them said, leering, while the other one snickered. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Still rattling around that old dungeon?”
She ignored them in a practiced way, consulting her list and picking up an empty basket from the counter to fill.
Naturally, their attention turned to us next. “Who’s your company?”
The shopkeeper, a plump man with an impressive black mustache, ignored all of us to help another young woman select cloth.
“It’s those people who came on the train a little while ago,” the snickering one said. “What’s your name, ponytail?”
Erris looked at them, not quite nervous, but gauging the situation.
“I don’t give my name out to just anyone,” he said after a moment, and although he said it about as politely as he could, they were predictably displeased.
“Oh, why? Is your name special or something? You can’t tell me your name? You think I’m going to cast a magic spell on you?” His snicker got louder. “I heard you’re a student of magic, is that right?”
Celestina suddenly dumped a tin of baking powder in her basket and whirled on them. “Do you have nothing better to do? We’re just here for our groceries and that’s it.”
“Hey, don’t twist your petticoat, Little Scar. We’re just curious.”
Her cheeks burned at the name.
“Watch out,” the leering one said. “They might put a curse on us.” There was a threatening note to his voice.
The young woman left with her cloth, looking all too eager to depart the scene, and the shopkeeper finally turned his attention on us. “All right, Celestina, find what you want and be done with it. And I don’t want to hear any talk of curses.”
“Celestina never said one word about curses!” I said, my indignance suddenly overflowing.
“I won’t hesitate to ask you to leave my shop,” the shopkeeper said slowly. I was used to a certain level of mistreatment, but it was rare to hear such pure vitriol pointed at me without cause. I felt a twist of fear in my stomach and had to force myself not to leave that moment. Ordorio’s house suddenly felt very vulnerable, surrounded by these townspeople who didn’t even know who we were and would only grow angrier if they found out.
A boy walked into the shop, clearly with the intention of finding his friends, and stopped short at the sight of Celestina. The family resemblance to her was immediately apparent. He dropped his eyes to the ground and edged over to the wall.
Celestina put down her basket. “Let’s go,” she said, sounding choked, and she walked out with a straight arm swinging and head high, but I could see it was an effort. Erris looked at me and reached for her basket.
“I’d listen to her if I were you,” the leering fellow said.
I wasn’t sure if we ought to give our money to the shop, but then, we needed our supplies from somewhere. Erris must’ve been thinking the same thing, because he put the basket on the counter and motioned for me to hand him the money that I carried in a purse at my wrist.
Thankfully, the boys did not challenge our right to buy groceries, but their eyes bored into the side of my head as the shopkeeper tallied our goods, and they bored into our backs as we departed.
Celestina was standing outside, head bowed, wiping at the remnants of tears.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
She nodded, but it was a lie.
“That boy who came in was your brother, wasn’t he?”
She nodded again.
“He would side with those louts and not his own sister?” Erris said. He looked like he wanted to go back in the shop and give the boy a talking-to, but I put a hand to his arm.
“Don’t make things worse,” I said.
“Those boys grew up playing with my brothers,” Celestina said. “Playing with me, even. Mr. Caldero, the shopkeeper… we would go in with our pennies for candy. Now they all do their best to make me feel like the dirt on their shoes. I can’t… really blame my brother for…” She shrugged. I could tell she wasn’t the sort of person who ever liked to cry, and it was easier not to explain too much.
“The townspeople ostracize you because you work for Ordorio?”
“Yes.”
“Just for that?” Erris said.
“Well, I suppose our appearance doesn’t help,” I said wryly. I hadn’t told Erris everything Celestina told me about Ordorio’s history with the townspeople, and how Celestina’s parents expected her to stay home with them instead. He wasn’t around enough for such conversations to arise.
“Well, I will try not to think of it all,” Celestina said, with a brisk shake of her head. “We have our groceries. Now we must get the coat and boots for Nimira and pick up the mail.”
Luckily for all of our nerves, no one at the clothing shop paid us hostile attention. There were no young people here, just one old man discussing boots with another equally old man, both wearing battered caps and sweaters, and a tall, energetic woman who helped us select coats and boots. I had never seen a shop like this, selling only ready-to-wear clothes and nothing in the least pretty. There were knit caps and broad-brimmed hats and coats for rain and coats for snow, turtleneck sweaters in drab colors, and all sorts of sporting clothes like vests with numerous pockets, and snowshoes. I knew I would appreciate the coat in the cold, but I was deeply unenthused by the lack of, say, purple, which happened to be my favorite color.