Marcus Steve's Arc

Chapter 2 of 8

Marcus sat on the bottom temple step with the three fairies still perched on him. The smallest one, the one who had done all the talking, crossed her arms and waited. He understood, after a moment, that she was waiting for something specific. "Before we teach you anything," she said, "we take the offering. That was the bargain." "Honey," Marcus said. "You said honey." "A jar. Sealed. Good honey, not the watered kind." The fairy on his wrist tapped his skin twice, impatient. "We don't teach on credit." Marcus opened his coat and checked his pockets. He had a few coins from the port exchange, a folded map, and the crumpled receipt for the wrong flowers. No honey. Nothing that could stand in for it. "I don't have any," he said. "I can get some. Where?" The lead fairy pointed down the road, past the incense seller. "The emporium. Two streets over. They carry everything. Go now. We'll wait in the tree." All three lifted off him at once and vanished into the flowering branches. Marcus dropped the pink flowers in a gutter and walked. The emporium stood at the corner with tall windows and a painted sign above the door. Inside, shelves ran floor to ceiling. Barrels of grain. Bolts of cloth. A wall of small satchels tied with twine, each labeled with a different seed. A woman behind the counter watched him without smiling. "Honey," Marcus said. "A jar. Good honey." She reached under the counter and set a clear jar on the wood. Amber inside, lid sealed tight, a paper label on the front. She named a price. Marcus counted his coins onto the counter. He was short. He counted again. Still short, by almost half. "That's what I have," he said. She slid the jar back toward her chest. "Then that's not enough." He looked at the seed satchels on the wall, at the cloth, at the barrels. He had nothing to trade. Then he remembered the folded map in his pocket, the port guidebook pages tucked inside it. Four pages, printed, in a language the locals read. Tourists paid for those at the dock. He pulled the pages out and laid them flat next to his coins. "These too. Port guide. New." The woman picked up the pages and read the top one. Her mouth moved. She set them down, took his coins, and pushed the jar across the counter. "Sold," she said. Marcus carried the jar back to the temple wall. The three fairies dropped out of the branches before he reached the tree. The lead fairy landed on the lid and pressed both hands against the glass. "Good," she said. "Sit down. First lesson." Marcus sat. He had paid. He had also just traded away the only pages he had ever read about this place, and now the fairies were the only guide he had left.