Friday Flash: The Delivery

This Friday Flash is a sequel to last week’s “Sale or Return“.

—-

“32a Cotswold Drive.”

Cob double checked the address on the envelope. He looked at the mundane house in front of him and then strode towards its gate purposefully, whispering the melodious spell of openings. The wrought iron rippled in front of him, he took a deep breath, flipped the latch and stepped through.

There was a moment of roaring in his ears, like he had plunged into a pool of water, then silence. The road noise disappeared and the Other house stood in front of him. It bore a close resemblance to its anchor, as was to be expected, so he let go of the breath. The first part was done, and happily, there were no hounds, or worse, in the garden.

He walked up the path. All of the windows were shut and the pale silver sky above him was empty. He pulled on the bell chain. No barking, howling or screeching. Marvellous; he’d be back at MacDonald’s within the hour.

A tired, coat hanger of a man opened the door; thin and crooked. “Yes?” he sighed.

Cob showed him his left palm. The shopkeeper’s identifying mark sparkled across the creases of skin. “Delivery from the Emporium of Things in Between and Besides,” he rattled off quickly.

The servant nodded. “For the mistress. Come in out of the nether. You can wait in the parlour.”

He was led into a cosy room with an impressive collection of bronze hearts mounted on the walls, some large, some small. Cob wondered if the mistress was a sculptor. He hoped she was.

The door was shut behind him and locked. That was standard practice in these houses. They couldn’t have delivery boys poking around whilst the servants went to find masters that might be hundreds of miles away. He dropped into an overstuffed chair next to the fire and relaxed.

Something landed on the floor next to him and he peered over the arm of the chair to see one of the mints from his pocket rolling across the wooden floor. He leapt up to hurry after it, but it seemed to speed up, rolling under the door of a small cupboard in the corner.

Cob bit his lip. Should he leave it there? What if it got mouldy and the owner found it and then realised that her dry old servant would never eat mint imperials? She’d complain to the shopkeeper, and he couldn’t risk that, not after the last mistake…

He checked for fairies hiding behind the hearts, pulled at the round door knob and the door swung open. The light of the fire didn’t penetrate far in, and the mint wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

He stooped and leant in; still no sign. A step further, then the door slammed shut behind him, hitting him hard on the backside and sending him tumbling forwards. He landed in a pile of books, coughing in the dust filled cupboard. He took a moment to orient himself, looked for the crack of light from under the door and was surprised to see it to the left of him. Convinced he must have pitched sideways in the fall, he struggled to his feet and hurried out as quick as he could.

There was grass beneath his feet. His head snapped up to see a bright blue sky with plump white clouds above him. He span around in time to see the door click shut and then fade into the tree behind him. He hammered on the trunk, desperately dug his nails in the bark’s crevices but there was nothing left of it. “Stupid, stupid!” he yelled at himself.

He was in the Other world.

He turned and pressed his back against the oak tree, panicking. Beautiful meadows, alive with dancing butterflies stretched all around him as a warm, gentle breeze caressed his cheek.

It didn’t seem so bad.

He saw a copse of trees ahead, sprinkled with poppies that bobbed merrily in the breeze almost like they were fingers beckoning to him. He walked towards them, recalling the sight of a poppy in the shop only that morning. Perhaps the shopkeeper knew someone here who could help?

The poppies snaked in a haphazard line through the trees, forming an impromptu path for him to follow. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and began to whistle. He felt the letter and struggled to remember what he was supposed to do with it. It didn’t seem important any more.

He glimpsed a figure in a clearing and headed towards him, wondering if he might be able to find… find what exactly? He couldn’t remember, but continued anyway.

A tall man with long black hair and obsidian eyes was watching his approach. He was dressed in elegant clothes that looked old fashioned to Cob, yet not out of place here. The poppies clustered about his feet and some were twisted around the man’s elegant cane.

“Ah, delivery boy,” he said cheerily. “Here at last.”

Cob nodded and held out his left palm out of habit. The man waved it aside with the dismissive skill of an aristocrat.

“You have a letter for me I believe?”

Cob frowned, that didn’t seem right. He pulled the letter out and peered at the words. “F.A.O. Lord Poppy” was written on the front in the shopkeeper’s elegant hand.

“Are you Lord Poppy?” The man nodded, taking the note. Cob waited as the seal was broken and the message read.

The lord clicked his fingers and a scowling fairy popped into existence at his shoulder in a shower of poppy petals, a thick silver band around her left ankle.

“Well done boy, you’ve just made your last delivery,” he pointed at Cob’s ankle and the fairy sighed. She whispered something that made Cob’s head pound. A cold, heavy silver band was forming around his own ankle. “A new slave,” Lord Poppy smiled. “Just what I needed. That shopkeeper really is a marvel.”

—

Read the next story from the Split Worlds: The First One

This Friday Flash is part of a year and a day of urban fantasy stories set in the Split Worlds. There is an index of the the stories here and some more info on what the year and a day is about here. And if you liked it, you can subscribe by email if you like, so you get the rest delivered to your inbox.

Tagged as: Friday Flash, lord poppy, spell of openings