His Fairy Godfather

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His Fairy Godfather Page 3

by Nico Jaye


  “His name is Patrick, but he dislikes it heartily. I can see why—Trick is much more fun to say.” Edwin grinned and tried it out again. “Trick. Trick.”

  Frederick’s lips curled in a smile. “Well, I’m glad your impression was clear enough you were able to gain that much insight.”

  “Oh, I learned a lot! I couldn’t believe how it felt—flashpoints of dreams, worries, hopes, and desires. I can’t wait to get started.” Edwin suddenly remembered what he had in his pocket, and his eyes went wide.

  The glove.

  The glove that was Trick’s, which was currently in the pocket of Edwin’s own coat, in this very apartment.

  Scrylocation was a practical course he’d managed to understand. Unlike the skill of summoning, the focus of scrylocation was physical—something he could tangibly hold in his hands while working his magic.

  Trick was getting a fairy godfather. Well, a fairy godfather in training, but a fairy godfather nonetheless.

  Edwin caught Frederick’s eye and grinned. “I know just how to find him.”

  Chapter Three

  THERE WAS so much grit in Trick’s eyes, he was surprised he couldn’t hear his lids scraping when he blinked. When his alarm clock had sounded a little before six a.m., he’d awoken, disoriented. It took a moment for him to remember why he was up before the sun on a Saturday, until the sight of his cell phone reminded him of the text message from Jasper the night before.

  The air in his apartment already smelled of curry and cumin as he dragged his weary body from the mattress and stood, pausing to let the dizziness pass before he padded across the cold floor to his tiny bathroom.

  The hot water lasted less than five minutes as he expediently showered, then stepped out, finishing his morning routine and dressing in the warmest thing he had. Since the office was closed, he didn’t need to worry as much about looking neat and put together. Jeans and a wooly sweater would do for the day, and if Jasper didn’t like it, he could kiss Trick’s pasty white ass.

  Redden wouldn’t be in the office. He never was on weekends. Trick even doubted that Jasper would be there, but no doubt there would be a stack of work—most likely work Jasper or Leif were supposed to have finished during the week—they would expect Trick to complete before Monday.

  Jasper and Leif had used his plans more than once, passing them off as their own, handing them in to their father. It made his blood boil to know he wasn’t getting credit for his work, and at the same time, when Redden praised them, it wedged a deep sense of satisfaction in his gut.

  It would do. For now.

  The wind was biting as he made his way to the subway station. The streets of New York were never quiet, but this early on a Saturday, more people were sleeping than during the week. Trick held his jacket closed, his hands clutching at the long tear splitting one side from the other.

  He hadn’t been able to find both his gloves before leaving the apartment, so by the time he made it to the station, his hands felt as though they were frozen in place.

  The trip from Morningside Heights to Midtown went quickly—quicker than Trick would have liked—and before long, he was dragging his feet up the stairs to street level. His office building was only a couple of blocks from the subway, and he walked away from the hubbub of Times Square, vibrant and busy even at this early hour.

  Head down, trying to protect his face from the bitter wind, he almost crashed headlong into a solid wall of man standing in the middle of the sidewalk. When Trick looked up, he was shocked to find it was the man from the night before standing in front of him.

  “Hello,” the guy said, a bright smile spread across his face. His cheeks were pink from the cold, and his shaggy blond hair was windblown.

  “Hiiii….” The word was drawn out. Trick was trying to get a read on the situation, but there wasn’t a lot to go on.

  “I wanted to thank you. For last night. For saving me,” he clarified. “And to return this to you.” He thrust his hand forward, Trick’s missing glove clenched in his fist.

  Immediately suspicious, Trick narrowed his eyes and regarded him. “Thanks,” Trick said, his gaze trained on the guy, just in case this was some kind of con. The population of Manhattan didn’t allow for many chance encounters, and running into the same person, almost literally, was a rare occurrence. And knowing Trick’s luck, he wouldn’t be surprised if this was some sort of scheme to swindle money out of him.

  “My name is Edwin,” he said, stepping forward and holding out his hand to shake. He was definitely a tourist. The New Yorkers Trick knew would never have gone to the trouble of tracking someone down to return a lost glove. And once returned, most of them would have grumbled something before turning and walking away. This openness, the unashamed friendliness, was not something Trick was used to.

  “Trick,” he said, taking Edwin’s hand, just as he’d done the night before, but both of them were standing this time. His grip was solid and warm, and Trick felt a sense of comfort wash over him. He shook it off. He really needed to get some sleep. Taking half a step back, he put a little distance between him and Edwin. “How’d you know where to find me?”

  Edwin shoved his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Your name was on the tag.”

  “What? No, it….” Trick pulled the glove open and peered inside. Sure enough, there was a tiny tag with his name written on it. He didn’t remember that being there, but he’d had the gloves forever, a Christmas gift from his aunt a lifetime ago.

  Edwin just grinned.

  “So what, you googled me? Came all the way down here just to return a glove?”

  Trick still had a hard time believing someone would be that selfless.

  “You saved my life. It was the least I could do,” Edwin replied.

  “Well, thanks. I don’t want to be rude, but I really have to get inside.” Trick gestured up at the building to his left.

  “Oh, of course. I won’t keep you.”

  Trick nodded and thanked Edwin one last time before walking past him and through the door of the building. He climbed into the elevator and pressed the button for the eighth floor, but he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that he was forgetting something, or that something was missing.

  He checked his pockets. His cell phone, wallet, and keys were there. He even had a glove he hadn’t left the house with that morning. So why did he feel like he’d forgotten something?

  Shaking the feeling off as the elevator reached his floor, he stepped out and unlocked the office door. As predicted, the place was quiet and tranquil, still abandoned since the evening before when Trick had locked up. He unlooped the scarf from around his neck and hung his jacket on the hook, bumping the thermostat up a few degrees before taking a seat at his desk.

  When his computer booted up, he noticed he had several e-mails from Redden and the twins, demanding he complete various tasks—none of which were part of his job description—before the end of the day Saturday. He got to work, tackling the items Redden Senior had outlined first: typing up minutes from a three-hour meeting he’d had with a homeowner and a site contractor the day before; reviewing local ordinance requirements for an upcoming project; and finally, reconciling the numbers on a delinquent client account.

  By the time he had completed those three tasks it was close to noon. The sound of the door opening pulled his attention up from his computer screen, and he saw Jasper crossing the foyer looking like he’d rolled out of bed and jumped directly in a cab to be there.

  “Good morning, Jasper,” Trick said with as much pleasantness as he could summon without barfing. It pissed him off that it had been Jasper who’d demanded Trick turn up at the office early, and here it was, the day half gone, and Jasper was just getting there.

  “What the fuck is good about it anyway?” He didn’t give Trick a chance to answer. “Have you finished drafting the Webber house?”

  “I was just finishing up some things for your father. I was about to start that now
.”

  Jasper scoffed. “It’s noon, dipshit. How fucking long does it take you to complete a simple task? Are you retarded or something?”

  Once again, just as it did every day, Trick could feel the anger bubbling up. Don’t lose your temper, he reminded himself.

  “I can get started on it right away.”

  “Get me a coffee first. And some lunch. I want Korean. I’ll be in my office. Don’t make me wait longer than I have to.”

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Trick fumed all the way down to the main floor. He was treated more like a servant than an employee. Redden was bad, but his sons were worse—spoiled little shits who knew less about architecture than they did about common civility. So many times he’d fantasized about telling all three Reddens where they could stick their self-righteous attitudes. As attractive as those daydreams were, it was impossible for Trick to ever stand up for himself. There was nothing stopping Redden from firing him, and if he did, Trick would lose the last connection he had to his father.

  For now, all Trick could do was trust that karma would take care of things and that one day those two little dickheads would get what was coming to them.

  He’d made it less than three steps onto the sidewalk before he heard his name called from behind him. He turned to see Edwin jogging up to him.

  “You’re still here?” Trick asked, with more annoyance in his voice than he’d intended.

  “I was in the area, and I thought maybe we could go to luncheon.”

  Trick took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.

  “Listen, you seem like a nice enough guy—a little clueless about playing in traffic maybe—but I’m not really looking for anything….”

  Edwin shrugged. “I’m not really looking for anything either. Just to share a meal.”

  “I’m at work, and I don’t have a lot of time. I’m sorry.”

  The look on Edwin’s face almost cracked the thick layer of ice Trick had around his heart. One moment he’d seemed so perfectly perky, and the next, like someone had told him Santa wasn’t real. It was nearly enough to have Trick backtracking, but what he’d said was the truth. He didn’t have a social life because he couldn’t afford to. Without the time to maintain friendships or the bank account to support public activities, Trick wasn’t exactly the most sought-after guy for group interaction.

  “Thanks again for returning my glove to me. I really appreciate it. I’ve got to go now, though.”

  “Okay,” Edwin said, staring at him with wide blue eyes.

  “I’ll see you around.” Trick lifted one hand in a stilted wave and hoped that Edwin understood he didn’t actually intend to see him around.

  Chapter Four

  EDWIN SAT in a nearby shop called Elixir Coffee and watched the patrons move about their business. Coffee seemed to be very popular in the mortal realm. In fact, when he’d requested an Earl Grey tea, he’d received a somewhat bemused look from the woman behind the counter before she’d entered his order.

  Now that he’d been here a couple of days, there had been a few things Edwin had learned—and quickly. The green-colored currency was very important to being able to acquire items or move about the city. A plastic card with numbers he’d received was also very useful. He’d been able to ascertain pricing by looking in various shops, and his research suggested the two and a half dollars he was charged for a tea was approximately what other shops listed for the price of such a beverage.

  He had received a nearly crash-course reminder of his lessons in Humanology class about the color of lights at the intersection of streets, which indicated whether one should stop or cross.

  He’d discovered the most compact of his wands fit perfectly into the pocket of his coat, which had been quite fortuitous given his need of it just now.

  Edwin shot straight up in his seat, his eyes wide.

  Oh, good Fairy! He’d summoned from the vault!

  He’d pictured the name label, then had used his transmaterialization skills to add Trick’s name to it, and the label had appeared on Trick’s glove.

  Edwin wiggled in his seat, an elated grin on his face. He couldn’t wait to tell his mother! He’d magicked the name label onto the glove, and Trick had been none the wiser!

  Deflating slightly, Edwin winced at the memory.

  Among the things he’d learned, he also now knew waiting outside a mortal’s place of work for several hours was apparently not a common occurrence.

  Edwin chewed his lip.

  Here he thought he’d been doing quite well with blending in.

  Seeing Trick today had given Edwin new fuel to his desire to help him. The impression he’d felt had been true. Today, Trick was working on a day when he ought not to have been working, and he was doing work that ought not be required of him. His talent was not appreciated, but it was flourishing despite the ill treatment he received. Edwin was determined to ensure his first charge would be a success, his own limited skill set be fizzled.

  Trick had been suspicious, though, of Edwin’s presence there.

  Suddenly, a tingle in his head that Edwin had begun to think of as his Center of Impressions buzzed to life, and not a moment later, Trick entered the café.

  From his seat in a corner booth, Edwin watched with interest while Trick juggled several brown bags encased in plastic. Trick stood in line and, once he reached the counter, chatted with the woman there. Even with Trick’s difficult morning, he was cordial to her.

  Trick was not suspicious of her at all.

  In fact, the woman belonged in this place, which was at the base of the building in which Trick worked.

  Hadn’t Trick said he would see Edwin around? He could see Edwin from here every day!

  When the man behind the counter called out Trick’s name a moment later, Edwin saw Trick shift the bags in his hands so he could carry the cup handed to him. Trick had a thanks and a smile—however tired he was, he still had a smile—for the man.

  After Trick left, Edwin stood and approached the counter, a determined look on his face.

  “YOU DID what?” Frederick’s eyebrows were raised high enough they disappeared behind his shock of red hair.

  “I am now employed at a coffee establishment. Elixir Coffee,” Edwin said with a proud smile. He took a bite of their supper and murmured happily at the delightful tastes bursting on his tongue. Carnitas were a dish Edwin had never heard of before, but the smells that had wafted out of the crocked pot had been quite heavenly. With his first bite of Frederick’s concoction, Edwin had been a convert. Carnitas were officially his favorite mortal food.

  Well, his favorite mortal food thus far. Edwin wondered absently if carnitas were available in the vault…. Now that he had summoned successfully, he was desperate to try it out again. If not, he could always practice his transmaterialization and try to recreate the delicious dish.

  Frederick coughed, and Edwin brought his attention back to him. Frederick’s brows now swept down to furrow thoughtfully. “I don’t…. How exactly did you get this position, Edwin?”

  Edwin savored his bite of carnitas before swallowing and patting his mouth with the linen napkin. “When I inquired about employment, the woman with whom I spoke brought me to the manager. She was quite excited about my interest! I believe she said they needed help for the season. I wonder, does that mean they will have me wear seasonal garb? Do they require help only on days it snows?”

  “Well, I’ll be fizzled.” Frederick gave a short laugh and took a sip of his juice. He was drinking orange juice, which Edwin had tried and thought tasted vastly similar to their marron juice in Paravale. Frederick set the glass down and smiled. “That means they need help for the holiday season.”

  At Edwin’s blank look, Frederick chuckled again. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll see plenty of this during your time here, but right now we’re nearing the end of the mortal calendar year. That means there are holidays that are celebrated with great vigor.” Frederick thought for a moment before
snapping his fingers. “Ah! The equivalent of Kindtidings Festus in Paravale.”

  “Oh!” Edwin grinned at the mention of his favorite time of year. Kindtidings was wonderful and filled with good cheer. Felicent Palace was lit up with fairy magic, and friends and family exchanged tokens to express their love and appreciation. “That’s amazing! The mortals are quite warmhearted if they have such a thing.”

  Frederick smiled and nodded. “Some are. Many are. It’s a lovely time to be in New York City.”

  “I can only imagine. I do so hope I can experience the joy of the… holiday season?”

  At Frederick’s nod, Edwin smiled. Holiday season.

  He quite liked that sound.

  AFTER DINNER, Edwin headed to the guest bedroom, while Frederick did research on psychology graduate schools in anticipation of Abigail’s future needs.

  Edwin opened up his small communicator and tapped the mirrored surface with his everyday wand. After a moment, Estella appeared on the screen, her silvery blonde hair practically glowing.

  “Edwin, how wonderful to hear from you!”

  With a smile, Edwin greeted his mother. “It’s lovely to see you as well, Mother.”

  Estella tilted her head and peered into her screen. “It’s evening there, I take it.”

  “Yes, Frederick and I have just finished our supper. And how are things in Paravale?”

  “Quite well, thank you. We’ll be sitting down to supper in a moment ourselves, but of course it can wait until after we’ve had a chance to catch up.” Estella’s succinct statement of the change of plans suggested—and quite rightly so—she was accustomed to such accommodation. She raised her brows and smiled at him. “And how are things in New York City?”

  Edwin grinned, unable to hold back the news any longer. “Things are wonderful. I have my first charge!”

  “Oh my Fairy!” Estella’s face broke into a pleased smile. “That was rather quick, wasn’t it?”

 

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