Mercer Asterion's Arc

Chapter 7 of 10

The lane opened under a carved wooden arch woven with vines and yellow flowers. The sign above read Golden Talon Studio and Supplies. Beyond the arch, a griffin stood at a table under the open sky, arranging props. Paint spattered his leather apron in bright, dried streaks. He looked up as they approached, then lowered his head to see past his small round spectacles. "Pie from Poppy," Mouse said. "For the still life." "Set it there," the griffin said. He pointed a talon at the table. A copper mug already sat on the green cloth. Beside it stood a stone vase with cut flowers, and a white plate with a single fork. Mercer lifted the basket onto the table. He drew back the checkered cloth. The crust caught the light. The griffin studied it the way a jeweler studies a stone. "Good," the griffin said. "That'll hold the eye." He shifted the mug an inch, set the pie between the vase and the plate, and stepped back. "Aeris Feathermane. Thank you for the carry." "Mercer." He kept his cybernetic hand inside the cloak. Aeris looked at the dog. The dog had settled beside the table leg, chin on paws, eyes on the pie. "He always shows up when there's food," Aeris said. "He won't touch it. Knows the rules." "He's with us today," Mercer said. "He's with whoever's carrying," Aeris said. He reached into his apron pocket and drew out a small cloth pouch. He set it on the corner of the table. "Poppy's payment. Half for the pie. Half is hers to split with the runners." He looked at Mouse. "She'll know the count." Mouse took the pouch and tucked it into her satchel. "She always does." Aeris turned back to the table and squinted at the arrangement. He moved the fork a hair to the left. Then he stopped and looked at Mercer again, longer this time. "You're new," Aeris said. It wasn't a question. "Passing through," Mercer said. Aeris nodded once. He didn't press. "If you're around tomorrow, I need a hand hauling frames. Two silver acorns, an hour's work." Mercer felt the offer land. Steady coin. A reason to be in one place. A griffin who asked and moved on. "I'll think on it," he said. "Fair," Aeris said. He returned to the still life. Mouse tugged Mercer's sleeve. They stepped back under the arch. The dog rose, stretched, and followed at Mercer's heel. "He gave you the pouch," Mercer said, low. "He gave us the pouch," Mouse said. "Poppy'll open it in front of us. That's how she keeps everyone honest." "And the bread?" "Bread's ours the moment she sees the count." Mercer shifted the empty basket to his other hand. The pie was delivered. The payment was in Mouse's bag. Now they only had to walk it back before Poppy pulled the misfits from the oven.