Ch 8: Rude

Be wary of giving small men large tasks

– Uther Morrow in a letter to Vaughn Morrow

Solomon wanted to check on the results of his first attempt at magic first thing the following morning, but had no way to do so without drawing tremendous suspicion to himself. He was at least grateful that there had been no screaming nor had there been any indication that the bowl and spell reagents had been found.

As he was finishing his eggs there was a knock on his door.

“Come in,” he said and Melissa stepped inside with her hands behind her back.

“My lord. Mayor Neiman has sent word that he intends to call upon you in the early afternoon as you requested.”

He nodded. “Thank you Melissa. Tell his messenger that will be fine.”

“Oh. The messenger already left.”

Solomon frowned at that, grabbing the walking stick he’d left leaning on his desk and tapping it on the ground. The mayor assumed that he would be able to see him without confirming with him. Either he had an inflated sense of himself or his messenger did.

“That’s alright Melissa, thank you.”

She curtsied and left the room.

“Wait,” he said as she was nearly gone and she turned back around.

“The maid, Felicity, has she still been having trouble?”

“Earlier in the week she did, but not as bad as that one night. Last night I didn’t hear a peep though, and my room is right next to hers.”

“Good to hear. You may go.”

She curtsied again and left.

Solomon smiled. It worked. That, or Melissa was lying to him to protect Felicity from punishment for nightmares. He believed it was the former, since he’d not given Melissa a reason to think he’d do the latter. He felt ecstatic, but resisted his immediate urge to go through his uncle’s Volk Magic grimoire to find another spell to try. He would take his time and be certain of what he was doing. Victor may have left a trail for the Union with his actions and if he did then anything Solomon did increased the risk that he’d be swept up in it. Based on the hints he’d found throughout the home, he doubted his Uncle was just an eccentric with a hobby.

Solomon got up, leaving his plate to be picked up, and threw on his purple vest and black coat for the day. He eyed one of his uncle’s green vests, but while the color was lovely, he wasn’t quite as wide around as his uncle had been. Perhaps with some tailoring… He shook his head. It would be a foolish waste of time at this point.

He made his way to the library and worked on the pile of paper and spines until, finally, he managed to get through it all. There was no sign of the occult or any hints of magic across any of it. In the process of reviewing everything he’d also managed to get everything into orderly piles, clearing the floor. The damage to the library was extensive, but he was hopeful that Barnabus would be up to repairing and replacing it.

He walked out to find Felicity and Nelda, who curtsied at him as he reached them.

“I have just finished going through the ruins of my Uncle’s library. Nothing salvageable. Please see that the piles of trash I’ve placed inside are taken care of, and once they are, Barnabus and his brother start to inspect it to see what can be done for its repair.”

“Yes Lord,” said Nelda. Felicity stayed silent, but seemed a bit steadier and her eyes managed to actually meet his for a moment without showing fear. He was glad. He’d have to remove the mandrake from beneath her bed the next morning to make sure its effects didn’t turn from pleasant dreams to nightmares, but he hoped two nights of good sleep would do her good.

He was reading through the volk magic grimoire again when there was a knock on his door which he’d locked. He locked the book away, then opened it to see Melissa on the other side of the door.

“The mayor has arrived, my lord.”

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“Is he at the door?”

“No. He barged inside and made his way directly to the sitting room. He requested tea and sandwiches that are being prepared now.”

Solomon didn’t hide his displeasure as he went to grab his walking stick and coat. It seemed it wasn’t the messenger that was the impertinent one. He made it to the sitting room to find Mayor Neiman already seated being handed a cup of tea by Selina. He was a broad man with dark hair and eyes wearing a bright blue suit made of materials nearly as fine as Solomon’s own. There were rings of silver and gold on his hands, and he had kept his hat on.

Solomon resisted smacking the man across the face.

“Mr. Morrow,” said the Mayor half-standing and reaching out a hand to shake.

Solomon reached toward it and the man reached out and grabbed his hand awkwardly drawing him toward him and putting him off balance.

“Good to meet you,” said the churlish man.