Nettle Blackthorn and the Three Wicked Sisters (27 page)

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Authors: Winter Woodlark

Tags: #girl, #mystery, #fantasy, #magic, #witch, #fairy, #faerie, #troll, #sword, #goblin

BOOK: Nettle Blackthorn and the Three Wicked Sisters
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Bram brushed an overly-long golden lock out of the way of
his glasses and gave Nettle a sideways glance –
confident isn’t she?
“He’ll be back
before Halloween,” he reassured Claudine.


Oh, jolly good,” Claudine beamed, lacing her fingers together
and bouncing a little on the spot, her antique silver-buckled shoes
made a clacking noise on the wooden floor. Then she checked herself
toning down her eagerness. “I mean, I wouldn’t want him missing out
on experiencing our little tea house, and I do hope to change his
mind about All Hallows’ Eve. You’d all love the merriment, it’ll be
a shame to miss out.”

Nettle
fidgeted with the salt shaker. Her long tapered fingers felt its
cool porcelain surface as guilt pinched her shoulders taut. She
couldn’t bring herself look at Claudine and her joyful enthusiasm,
for she knew though her father would be back before Halloween, he
didn’t intend to stay.

Claudine whispered with a wicked glint in her eye, “To have
Jasmine playing Lysette would be a
coup d’état,” and
tried unobtrusively to point outside
to one of the town-folk, an old lady wearing a lavender hat with a
peacock’s feather tucked into the brim, sipping tea. The old woman
caught them looking her way, and raised a teacup in greeting.
Nettle thought the woman’s smile resembled a crocodile’s
grin.

Claudine
nodded politely in response, then leaned down to confer with her
audience. “We let Mrs. Lemsik organize last year’s festivities.”
She rolled her eyes heavenward and dramatically pressed a hand to
her chest. “We were so sick and tired of her droning on and on
almost every year about what we were doing wrong, how she could do
better.” She pulled a jaded expression. “And as we anticipated, it
was an ever so dull event. But she’ll never admit it was.” Her blue
eyes twinkled mischievously. “Wouldn’t it be magnificent to
outshine her this year, and finally get her to stop nit-picking for
good.”

“Well, I
don’t want to miss out,” Bram enthused. “If anything, it’ll keep
Jazz out of our way for a day or two.” He gave a sympathetic
gesture of the shoulders. “No offense, but you’ve got your work cut
out with our cousin.”


Oh, I’m sure we can handle one little girl,” laughed
Claudine. Nettle and Bram weren’t so sure.

The tea house
was bustling with a heavy hum of chatter, and though there was a
plethora of distraction with town-folk to observe, Nettle couldn’t
quite shake herself free from her encounter with the cloaked
figure. She just had to ask Claudine. “Do you have...” She wasn’t
exactly sure how to describe the person. “Beggars, amongst your
entertainers?”

The
other woman looked taken aback. “Beggars?” Claudine repeated. She
held a delicate hand to her mouth, which was pinched a little with
distaste. “Oh my, no.” She shook her head, her strawberry-blond
curls bouncing slightly with the movement. “Certainly no one who
works for me.”

“Maybe I
had it wrong, but I thought I saw someone down an alleyway in a
dirty old cloak.” Nettle’s dull complexion flushed a little. “I
feel so silly now,” she revealed. “I thought they’d been following
me.”


Did they scare you?” Bram asked leaning forward, his
expression concerned.

Nettle shook
her head, no. She gave a shrug. “It was probably someone just
delivering something.”

But Claudine
was considering her with quite a lengthy gaze.

Bram rubbed
his nose with the back of his hand. “Maybe they were delivering
something dirty. Potatoes?”


Yeah, you’re right.” Nettle agreed. “Either that or I mistook
a chimney sweep for a vagrant.”

“Yes,
perhaps...” Claudine said, her gaze glancing upward in thought. Her
expression shifted into a frown. She waved her sister over. Margot
gracefully glided over with a couple of red menus. Whilst she
approached, Nettle was interested to see she was busily directing
her staff with a series of subtle hand signals. The pace of the
wait staff was blinding, for good reason. The dining room was
packed and there were people lining up outside patiently waiting
for a table to be free. “Claudie?” Margot asked with a pleasant but
cool smile for the siblings.

Claudine
pointed directly upward to the chandelier above the table. The
glass pendants had some sort of smoke swirling around inside them
and was a smaller version of the massive cluster of orbs right in
the middle of the dining room’s ceiling. “That bulb must be
full.”

Full,
thought Nettle,
or blown?

“Strange,” Margot commented, her gaze sliding back down to
briefly linger on Nettle. “I’ll have it replaced.” And with a snap
of her fingers one her wait
staff was at her side. The heavily freckled boy
moved close to hear the instructions Margot whispered to him. He
almost looked exactly like Pippa but for the gap between her front
teeth. Nettle caught his name-badge, Pip, before he swiftly
disappeared on his mission.


Maybe you could seat Bram and Nettle in the bay window,”
Claudine suggested.

Margot’s nose
wrinkled and she shook her head, her long copper hair swaying. “As
you well you know Claudie, there’s a certain level of quality
expected.”

That was a resounding big fat no
, thought Nettle. She darted Bram a
look of:
what’s wrong with us?
He shrugged in reply.


Besides, the family seated there already haven’t received
their meals as yet.”

“When
they do, shift them. In the meantime, be a dear and look after
Nettle and Bram, will you.” Claudine shifted her basket from one
arm to the other. “I have a few things I need to attend to in the
village.”

Margot’s
jaw flexed and there was steel in her tone. “Claudie, I would love
to, but as you can see we’re terribly busy. You know how important
it all is. We have to turn a lot of tables today. There’s so much I
have to do.”

Claudine’s
blue eyes momentarily flashed with irritation. “As do I.”

Nettle realised they did look tired, both of them. There
were dark shadows beneath their eyes, and their skin seemed a
little lacklustre.
They must be working long hours to be ready in time for
Halloween,
she supposed.

Claudine gave a bored sigh, as if she was annoyed her
sister didn’t get what she meant. “Nettle and Bramble deserve to be
paid special attention,
by us
. So that
certain people
might take note of our new friends, as an
interest has already been expressed.”

For Dad’s sake,
Nettle instantly guessed.
Of course she’ll want to spoil us, so
then we’ll relay to Dad how marvellous she is.

Margot’s
molten amber eyes widened with understanding. Her lips curved into
a smile. She nodded. “Certainly Claudie, you can count on me.”

Claudine gave
a little ripple of goodbye with her fingers. “Must be off,
deliveries to do, can’t keep our customers waiting. Enjoy your
morning tea.”

After
her sister departed, Margot handed a red menu to each sibling.
“Would you like something to drink while you peruse the
menu?”

“I’ll
have a mug of cowslip, please.” Bram answered.

“Just
water for me, thanks,” said Nettle. She was intrigued to see Margot
wrote their orders down with a quill, a long slender feather with
gold and black stripes. Margot politely inclined her head before
departing. She moved off and softly gave orders to one of her wait
staff, this one was named Pipi, and Nettle wondered if all the
staff had names that played on Pip.

Pippa, whom
Nettle had met several days ago behind the confectionary counter,
appeared a moment later carrying a silver tray with a tall glass of
water and pitcher. A silver mug with golden froth was placed before
Bram. It smelt divine, of green rolling meadows and gooseberries
dripping with honey.


Hi,” Nettle greeted, happy to see someone she
knew.


Good morning,” replied Pippa without looking up. She was
fishing her pad and pen out of her apron pocket, the silver tray
tucked under one arm.


How are you?” Nettle asked, figuring it would be nice to have
a friend in town near enough her own age. And she very much liked
the look of Pippa with her gappy smile and dusting of
freckles.

Pippa’s gaze
snapped up to lock with Nettle’s. She looked completely
taken-aback, and stammered warily, “I-I’m well. I’m good.”

“Good – good.” Nettle nodded and smiled. Nettle supposed
not too many of Olde Town’s visitors bothered with getting to know
the staff, since they were only here for a fleeting visit.
Well, not
us,
thought
Nettle.
If I
have my way, we’re here for good.

Pippa gazed
hesitantly at Nettle with her mottled hazel eyes. She seemed to
make up her mind about the other girl, finally curling her wide
lips into a shy smile. “And you?” she returned.


Can’t complain,” grinned Nettle, it was one of her father’s
passing comments he often made.

Bram
poked his head out of his menu. “I can’t make up my mind. What do
you recommend? Toad Terrine or Earthworm Pastry Cups? Or, hang on…
what about Puppy Dog Quiche?”


Puppy Dog Quiche, definitely, we got fresh road-kill
delivered this morning,” answered the girl, her pen hovering above
the pad.

Bram gasped in
horror. His glasses slid down his nose.

Pippa chortled
at Bram’s stricken expression, Nettle’s laughter joining hers. “I’m
just teasing. It’s just a name that fits the style of our tea
house. It’s really a quiche laced with ham. You’ll love it, I
promise.”

It was
Bram who noticed the differences in menus. Some tables had blue
menu’s, while others, like them, had red. A nearby table of four
local ladies, dressed in jugglers costumes, had blue menus and were
pointing out to each other what they had decided upon ordering. “Is
there a second menu?”

Pippa’s
bushy eyebrows rose with an impressed look. “Aren’t we observant?”
She hesitated for just a moment, her gaze sliding toward Margot who
had her back to them, before answering. “We also specialise in
youth essence drinks and meals. These days everyone’s interested in
organic foods and looking younger. So we’ve met the demand with a
separate menu – mainly for the local’s benefit.” She added with a
hushed voice, “A bit dull really, mainly fruit smoothies and
broth.”

Bram shivered
his distaste at the thought of such healthy food. Nettle laughed at
her younger brother. “Come on Bram, it’s not going to kill
you.”

Nettle wasn’t
too hungry, however she couldn’t resist the temptation of trying
one of their Black Beetle Slices. Pippa left to place their order
with the kitchen and while Bram was systematically reading the many
pamphlets he’d gathered on the way up the hill to the tea house,
Nettle settled herself down to do some people watching.

Music
played, the volume just a little below the hum of conversation, a
light-hearted jig that had Nettle unconsciously tapping her feet as
she gazed about the room. There were quite a few tables with town
folk dressed in grocer uniforms; leather apron metal-workers or as
tavern wenches, sipping cups of tea, nattering to themselves and on
occasion ordering something from Margot by simply a slight gesture
of the hand.

Something odd nagged at her, pulling her gaze to sweep back
across the room once more, and she realised that most of the town
folk were staring in one direction. Nettle turned to find their
line of sight and saw that it rested on a table at one of the bay
windows.
That must be the table Claudine referred
to
, Nettle
assumed
.
A
wife and husband drank from tulip shaped goblets, bantering with
one another; the dark-headed father having an easy smile, obviously
teasing his wife, as she pulled a self-depreciating grin, while
twin boys sat in matching high-chairs playing with small metal cars
and drinking bottled milk. But it was their sister that had
arrested everyone’s attention in the tea house.
And who can blame them,
thought
Nettle,
she’s gorgeous. No wonder Margot didn’t want me at that
table.

The
twin’s older sister took her time selecting the next treat from the
pretty pink cake stand placed in the centre of the table. Nettle
gauged her age to be around six years old, with a pair of striking
wide set eyes the colour of espresso and long curly hair the same
shade as her eyes. The child really was a delight to behold, and
Nettle quickly realized the table was positioned so that whoever
was seated there could be seen by everyone in the dining
room.

Nettle caught
a snatch of midnight blue through the bay window and her gaze was
immediately tugged outside the tea house. The boy in the velvet
jacket with his surly mouth and strange violet eyes was walking by
quickly disappearing from sight.

Ooooh!
Nettle thumped her fist on the table. Her blood boiled at
the fresh memory of stinging hands, and worse, her bruised
ego.

Bram glanced
up, half way through a sip of cowslip. A moustache of froth stained
his upper lip. “You alright?”

She gave him a
fierce look. “I will be.” She got to her feet. “Stay here until I
get back. Jazz shouldn’t be too far away, there’s not much you can
do with shorn hair.”

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