“Sounds … great.” I frowned.
Jack laughed, “We should go some time.”
“Isn’t that a place you’d want to take one of your lady friends?” I teased.
He shrugged and looked uncomfortable, “Yeah, well, nothing stopping us from going is there?”
I smiled, “All right.” I agreed.
Jack smirked, “It’s a date.” He teased.
I scoffed and let Jack lead me through the hustle and bustle of the marketplace. I had never been through here before, seeing as I had avoided it last time because of old Jefferson. I wondered whether he had looked for me after he realised Hawthorne was missing. I then thought about my family. My heart wrenched with pain, as it did every time I had thought of them over the last two weeks. I grimaced. Perhaps they had gone looking for me when they realised I had gone. Maybe they didn’t. Maybe they were secretly glad that I was one less problem in their lives. I had thought that perhaps my father would have tried to find me. He would have dragged me all the way back home kicking and screaming no doubt. But so far it seemed that no one had come looking for me. I wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not. Something caught my eye then.
A row of dirty people in rags were lined up against a wall. They had no shoes on, and their feet looked blue as they stood in the cold snow. Chains bonded their hands and legs. I gaped. They must be Humans. They looked no different to a Mage. As we passed them I noted that each Human had a look of despair plastered upon their filthy faces. Their eyes were dull and lifeless as though they had long given up any hope for themselves. I had never seen a pure Human before in my entire life. It was strangely depressing. I had been brought up being told that they were, evil, scum of the earth, savage creatures who wanted to destroy our planet. But as I looked at these pitiful creatures I did not see any of that. My heart seemed to falter under the realisation. I was sure my expression would suggest that I had just been clobbered over the head with a metal pole. I felt sudden overwhelming sadness. I wanted to do something. Anything, But it was impossible.
Jack stopped next to a small stall, “Here we are.” He told me.
The stall seemed to hold many beautiful trinkets and jewellery. I gazed in awe at the diamonds and sapphires before me, encrusted in intricate gold rings and necklaces.
An elderly woman stood behind the stall. Her face was disturbingly wrinkled and saggy, and she had a very large hump on her back.
Jack approached her, while I stood behind him, slightly intimidated by the old woman.
“I believe my Master, Sebastian Forsythe placed an order with you Miss, uh, Misses. A special order for his son Noah.” Jack said loudly and clearly to the decrepit lady.
“I ain’t deaf!” She barked, causing Jack to jump.
“S-sorry.”
“A custom order for Forsythe?” She said loudly, “Let’s see, let’s see.”
She bent under her stall and rummaged around for something I couldn’t see. I moment later she straightened up, something beautiful glinting in her hands.
“All bought and paid for. Finished it this morning.” She barked at us, rather proudly.
The piece she held in her hands was stunning, and I could only imagined that it would cost an arm and a leg to have custom made.
On a deep blue velvet pad she showed us her work. A solid gold feather in intricate detail it would have looked real besides the fact that it was glinting happily up at us. I noticed that its tip was encrusted with diamonds, and then pointed into a quill for writing. It was stunning.
The old woman laid it into a handsome wooden box for us, Jack showed some proof of identification to verify he wasn’t a thief, and we trundled back to the manor.
“So what is that solid gold quill for?” I asked.
“Master Forsythe gets his son Noah a coming home present every time he returns from his travels. He’s away a lot, working I presume. Constantly shut away in his study when he’s here, scribbling away at mountains of parchment.”
“What kind of work do you think he does?” I wondered.
“Beats me.” Jack shrugged, “Looks like he is writing a novel to me. Noah Forsythe is arriving at the manor late this afternoon.” I remembered Charles telling me that the Masters son would arrive home in a few weeks.
“That woman back there,” I began, “How did she make all those things?”
“She can spin gold from absolutely nothing.” He sounded jealous, “It’s like it flows from her fingertips or something. I was told that when she was a kid she could only make cheap metal and simple objects like goblets or plates. It’s taken her eighty years to be able to spin gold that finely.”
“Wow.” I breathed, “You’d think she’d be rich, right?”