Chapter 26: The Act [Bonus]

Chapter 26: Chapter 26: The Act [Bonus]

The shopkeeper pulled out a thick leather-bound book from under the counter. She flipped it open to a blank page and picked up a quill pen. Her fingers moved quickly, jotting down numbers, adding and multiplying. Daniel and Lyra stood there, waiting.

Daniel kept his expression blank. His eyes were still unfocused, his mouth still slightly open. He looked like a man who had been through hell and come out the other side with nothing but a towel and a dream.

Lyra stood beside him, her hands clasped together, her expression hopeful but worried. She was still playing the part. The devoted sister. The one who had sacrificed everything for her poor, mute brother.

The shopkeeper finished her calculations. She looked at the numbers. Then she looked at the pile of clothes. Then she looked at Daniel and Lyra. Her expression was conflicted.

"The total," she said slowly, "comes to fifty-two silver."

Lyra’s face fell. Daniel’s expression didn’t change, but his shoulders slumped slightly. A subtle movement. A tiny detail. But the shopkeeper noticed.

"However," the shopkeeper continued, "I can see that you’re... that you’ve been through a lot. So I’m willing to give it to you for forty silver."

She paused, waiting for their reaction.

Lyra turned to Daniel. Her eyes were wide, her lips trembling. She reached out and touched his arm.

"Did you hear that, brother?" she said, her voice soft and trembling. "Forty silver. We... we can’t afford that. We only have ten."

Daniel stared at her. Then at the clothes. Then at the shopkeeper. His face crumpled.

He fell to his knees.

Tears started pouring from his eyes. Not fake tears. Real tears. Or at least, they looked real. Daniel had always been good at crying on command. It was a skill he had developed as a child to get out of trouble. He hadn’t used it in years, but it was like riding a bike. You never forgot.

He didn’t speak. He couldn’t speak. He was supposed to be mute. But he didn’t need words. His face said everything. The despair. The longing. The years of wanting something he could never have.

Lyra dropped to her knees beside him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him close.

"It’s okay," she said, her voice cracking. "It’s okay. I will just have to work for another ten years before we can afford it. But I promise. I promise I will get it for you. One day. I swear."

She was good. Daniel had to admit it. She was really good.

The shopkeeper watched them. Her eyes were wet. Her lip was trembling. She clutched the counter, her knuckles white.

"Fine," she burst out. "Fine! You can have it for ten silver."

Lyra looked up. Her eyes were wide. Hopeful.

"Ten silver?" she repeated.

"Yes." The shopkeeper wiped her eyes with her apron. "You know, I used to have a brother once. But he left. He went off to be an adventurer and never came back." She sniffled. "I never got to give him anything. I never got to see him wear something nice."

Lyra reached into her pocket and pulled out ten silver coins. She placed them on the counter.

"Thank you," she said softly. "Thank you so much."

The shopkeeper nodded, still wiping her eyes. "Take the clothes. Go. Before I change my mind."

Daniel stood up. His face was still wet with tears, but his expression was different now. Determined. He reached out and placed his hands on the pile of clothes.

"Store," he said.

The clothes vanished.

The shopkeeper blinked. Her mouth fell open.

Then Daniel spoke again. "Equip."

The clothes appeared on his body. The dark blue silk shirt. The black leather pants. The fine wool jacket. The sturdy boots. The leather belt with the silver buckle. They materialized out of thin air, fitting him perfectly.

The shopkeeper stared. Her eyes were wide. Her mouth was still open.

"I thought you couldn’t talk," she whispered.

Daniel looked at her. He smiled. A warm, friendly smile.

"Oh, that," he said. "It was just a temporary thing. The cure is simple. I just needed to buy expensive clothes."

The shopkeeper stared at him. Then at Lyra. Then back at him.

"I need to retire," she said.

Daniel and Lyra walked out of the store. The morning sun was bright, and the streets were busy. People walked past them, going about their business. No one stared at Daniel anymore. He was fully clothed now. He looked like a normal person.

Lyra walked beside him, a skip in her step. She was grinning.

"How did I do?" she asked. "Was I good? Did I act well?"

Daniel reached out and patted her head. "You did very well, little Lyra."

She scowled. "I’m not little."

"You’re little to me."

She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. She was still smiling.

They walked down the street, heading toward the town square. Daniel was thinking about the library. About the novel he had promised to read. About what they would do next.

Then he saw something.

A man was riding through the street. But he wasn’t riding a horse. He was riding a person. A girl. She was on her hands and knees, crawling through the dirt, carrying the man on her back. She had long ears that flopped down on either side of her head. Rabbit ears. She was a rabbit folk.

She was trembling. Her arms were shaking. Her knees were scraped and bleeding. She looked like she was about to give out. The man on her back was laughing. He had a whip in his hand, and he cracked it against her side.

"Faster," he said. "Faster, you stupid beast."

Lyra stopped walking. Her head turned toward the sound. Her eyes narrowed.

"That voice," she said.

Daniel looked at her. "What?"

Lyra’s expression changed. Her face went pale. Then red. Then pale again.

"That’s my cousin," she said.