Nieve ran down the hill to town, fast. She knew she had to hurry, a bad feeling was crawling around in her stomach. As always, though, she loved the running itself. It felt great to be wearing her old runners, too, and booting along on her own steam. Feet pounding the ground, hair slapping against her back (Gran had picked out the knots), wind whistling past her ears. The leafy shoes had been an adventure, and she would never again run with such astonishing speed and ease – but she much preferred this. Besides, she was no slouch, and was on Main Street in no time.
She waved at Mr. Exley as she peeled past his renovated store. He’d cleared out all the jars and boxes full of creepy stuff left behind by Wormius & Ashe (gone before Sarah could deal with them), and had opened an antiques business, claiming that he’d developed a real feeling for old furniture. As he returned her wave from behind the counter, Nieve noticed that he was wearing his “Rock On!” T-shirt. She wondered if his legs still creaked when he walked.
Her parents’ store was next door. They’d taken over Dunstan Warlock’s bookstore when he hadn’t returned to town. His landlord, Professor Manning as it turned out, discovered to his surprise (and no one else’s) that Warlock hadn’t paid any rent in years. Good thing the professor didn’t pay much attention to mundane matters like money, Nieve thought. Her parents’ screwy business would need all the help it could get. As for grunt work, she and Lias and Malcolm had been packing boxes full of dusty old dog-eared books for days, cleaning the shelves, painting the walls, and getting ready for the first delivery of stock, which had been delayed. The opening was only a few days away and the store was still bare. It didn’t even have a name – nothing but a blank sign swinging above the door! (Gran had suggested they call it “Bats.”)
She skidded to a stop and was about to go in, when Frances and Mayor Mary stepped out, laughing together about the upcoming wedding.
“Nieve!” said Frances. “My compliments. You guys have done great work. The store looks fantastic.”
“Thanks. I keep telling Malcolm to take it easy, though.”
“Nah, he’s so happy, it’s been good for him.”
“Think it’ll be ready in time?” asked Mary. “I must say, it’s a dandy new addition to the downtown. It’s bound to bring in some tourist trade. I was going to get rid of those quaint old street lamps, you know, but I’ve changed my mind.”
Spoken like a mayor. “Oh yeah, one way or another, we’ll be ready.” She glanced through the window at Malcolm, who was polishing the antique brass cash register, a donation from Mr. Exley. “Even if we have to conjure stuff up with one of those magic wands my folks are getting.”
“Ha! I’d like to see that,” said Frances, although she had seen more incredible things, especially during her rescue mission to Bone House. “Say, Nievy, I heard you were going to be the flower girl at the wedding.”
Nieve made a face. “Molly decided to give the job to her revived Pomeranians. I don’t care, honestly.”
“Cripes, I can just picture it,” Frances groaned. “Pure mayhem. If those yappy little mutts were mine, I’d be tempted to go the slippers route myself.”
Mayor Mary started to edge away. “C’mon Fran, we’re late. Getting our hair done, Nieve.”
“Yeah, Mary’s still trying to comb the cobwebs out of her hair, and I’m gonna get myself a beehive. Lotsa wildlife, eh?”
“Good luck with the opening,” Mary said. “We’ll be there!”
“Looking gorgeous,” Frances added, catching up with the mayor. “What’s the store going to be called, anyway?”
“Can’t tell, it’s a surprise. See you Friday!”
A surprise for everyone, including me, Nieve thought, pushing through the door and scanning the empty store. Empty except for Malcolm, who was playing with the cash register, pressing down the keys, pulling the crank on the side, and making the cash drawer zing open with a loud briiiiiiiing, then slamming it shut.
It was true, what Nieve had feared.
“Hey, Nieve!” said Malcolm. “This old machine is so cool.”
“Mal, hi.” She was delighted to see him, as always, home safe and sound, but . . . “Where’s Lias?”
“He went out. Said . . . um, said there was something he needed to do, he wasn’t sure how long he’d be.”
“Right,” she grimaced.
Malcolm gave her an apologetic look, and clutched at the arrowhead that Lias had returned to him. It was attached to a leather cord that he now wore around his neck – always. Although he had recovered amazingly well from his illness and from the abuse he’d endured, it had left him with more than a residue of anxiety. “Should I have tried to stop him?”
She shook her head. “No point. I wish he’d waited to say goodbye.”
“Maybe he thought you’d give him a blasting to keep him here.”
“I might have,” Nieve couldn’t help but smile.
“Look, though, he left you this.” Malcolm pulled down the crank on the cash register and the drawer sprang open again. He picked a small object out of an otherwise empty change compartment. “He said you didn’t need it, but he wanted you to have it anyway.”
When Malcolm handed it to her, Nieve saw that it was Lias’ pewter amulet. She also saw, observing it more closely for the first time, that it wasn’t an abstract design as she had thought, but was roughly molded in the shape of a sun. When she folded her fingers over it, enclosing it in her fist, it felt as if something was scrabbling in her palm, as if she had captured a tiny creature. A spider, say.
“Mal,” she said suddenly. “I know what to call the store.”
“Yeah? Really?”
“Amulet,” she smiled. “That’s it. Amulet.”
He considered it, but only for a moment. “Yeah, really. Your parents are going to love it. It’s perfect.”
“Why don’t we paint the sign?” she said. “Surprise them, everything else is ready.”
“Let’s! Good idea. We’ll make a real humdinger, with loads of colour, it’ll be psychedelic.” Malcolm hustled off to the back room, where they kept a supply of paints and brushes and rags. “I’ll bring the ladder, too.”
“Excellent. ” Nieve intended to follow, but moved instead toward the front door. Stepping out into the sunny street, her favourite street in the world, she gazed down it’s length, and far into the distance along the road that led out of town, the fields alongside still blackened with sun-scorched weeds. In the spring those fields would be furred with fresh green shoots.
As for Lias?
Well, because she was a wait-and-see person, and not someone who jumps to conclusions, she decided that she’d just have to wait and see.
But on the other hand . . . Nieve clenched her fist once again and the amulet dug into her palm, warm and spiky and maybe even lucky. She had a feeling he’d be back.