The shopkeepers face had fallen when Madeira returned to the front, wearing a basic dress so plain that the confection of yellow silk she had draped over her arm was blinding by comparison. The man watched her pass with narrowed eyes.
"Isn't this fabulous?" Madeira gushed to the shopkeeper, holding out her strikingly unremarkable skirt. "There is something so humble about this look. Simple and inexpensive, and the undyed look really brings out the colour of my eyes, no?" Her gloves and jewelry flashed gaudily as Madeira reached for her coin purse with a smile. "What do I owe you for this dress and those boots?"
At the sound of clinking coins the woman perked up immediately. Madeira could nearly see the gears grinding in her head before she adopted her own oily smile.
"Why, a fine choice! And made by a
master seamstress on this very peak! Oh, how I'm loathed to part with them both, but perhaps... forty kina would persuade me."
Madeira fought the urge to roll her eyes. It was worth less than half of that. But then again, if the woman knew the item was magical it would make the dress priceless. Should she just accept it, and consider it an unbelievable bargain? Her inner self laughed. Of course not, it purred. She could do better.
"Oh, dear. Is there gold inlaid in the seam? Thirty five gold on a dress is not very humble..."
"The plain look will be the height of fashion! You are merely ahead of the curve, my dear. This is a quality item."
"That would make the boots five kina, yes?" Madeira smiled prettily.
The woman paused, realizing she had let Madeira undervalue the boots by insisting the dress was so expensive. But backing out now would look dishonest. "Ah... Yes."
"Excellent. Well, this dress really must be a marvelous if this fine store sells it. I'll give you seven kina for such a beautiful linen dress." Dijed collected in her throat, pulling itself from her soul and twisting itself to suit her needs. Hypnotism was lathered onto the words, dripping with charisma and a sense of
victory. Madeira held the connection as long as she could, letting the feeling burn its way through her thick skull. Seven kina was ten times what a linen dress was really worth, and the words agitated the feeling that snatching that from her would mean the shopkeeper had won.
In the back of the store Madeira heard a gasp and a muffled
whump of dropped clothing. She didn't turn her head to investigate, but maintained focus on her hypnotism.
"I shouldn't, but..." The old woman served her a smile that showed all the way to her gums. "I can tell you're a lady of fine taste, so I suppose I could let it go
just for you!"
Madeira handed over the twelve kina and thanked the woman kindly for her generosity. With how cheaply she had bought the boots, the total cost less than what the two would be put together. She essentially got the magical garment for free.
The Spiritist collected her ghost and waved genially as she exited the shop, turning just in time to see the weasly man from before dash to the front and whisper something obviously shocking in the shopkeepers ear.
Madeira was still staring behind her, with a creeping feeling up her spine, when she almost collided with a ball of cheerfulness disguised as a Konti.
"Gemma!" Madeira laughed when she recognized the healer. "You're right. It seems we've adopted each others fashion sense today." she indicated expensive, embroidered Okomo wool cloak the Konti was snuggled in. Her voice dropped into the low Lhavitan accent, mostly seen around the port and Sharai peak. "Don't tell me humble old me had anything to do with it?"
She held out an elbow for the Konti to hook her own arm through, and led them both away from the shop. She glanced spuriously behind her, but nobody came out after them, and she let herself think she had gotten away with her deception.
"What are you doing this way? On your way home from the Catholicon?" The woman lived in the Okomo estates, she knew. She had to traverse the entirety of Lhavit to make it home.
From behind her she could feel the prickly energy of her little ghost, who was pouting so hard it was literally changing the temperature of the air around her. Madeira coughed daintily.
"Can we make a quick stop? I promised Emma something."
To their right a toymakers shop window was piled high with fluffy stuffed Okomo, wooden puppies on strings, brightly painted toy boats and spinning tops of every conceivable shape and size. With gentle pressure and heedless of Gemma's protest or enthusiasm, Madeira turned them towards the brightly lit door. Outside a kindly looking old man, who might be the toymaker himself, was puffing on his pipe beneath the striped awning.
He smiled as he watched them approach, but his smile suddenly curdled when Madeira lifted her red hood to smile back.
"We're closed." he announced, stepping into their path to the door.
"Pardon?" Madeira blinked. It was not yet a rest period and the shop was brightly lit and through the window she could see it was manned by a cheerful teller.
"We're closed, to you. We don't want your type here", he gave Madeira a dirty look, and Gemma too, who was guilty by association. Then a cheery little bell tinkled as the man stepped inside his warm shop and slammed the door behind him.
What, first it was independent magic teacher, then artists, observatories, and now petching
toymakers have banned Tower people? Something dignified in Madeira was boiling with rage, ticks away from kicking open that door and putting the fear of God into that old man. The other, more rational part of her knew it would do more harm than good, and scare Emma in the process. Mastering herself, she masked her indignation with something sad and contrite before she turned to face the ghost.
"Sorry Em, we'll have to come back another day."
Predictably, this did not sit well with the little girl, who quickly worked herself up to tears. "But you
promised!"
"I know, kitten. I'm very sorry. Maybe you'd like to go in there and have a look around yourself, and we can buy whatever you've chosen later. Just remember, all the very best toys are the ones at the back of the shelves." She nodded solemnly, and felt a vindictive little sense of pleasure when the angry, pouting ghost blinked inside to inflict herself upon the quiet little shop.
Chuckling to herself, Madeira steered Gemma back out into the street.
"Sorry about that. Is there anywhere you'd like to go? Not that you're likely to get in everywhere, with me here." She scowled under her hood, holding painfully tightly to the Konti's arm. "Can you believe this nonsense? Elena has closed her little school off from the Towers and the rest of Lhavit is following suit. Gods, its infuriating. What reason do they have to deny us business?"
