Peppermint and Pentacles by Melanie Karsak EPUB & PDF– eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Melanie Karsak
- Language: English
- Genre: Gaslamp Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
The Most Wonderful Time
The clock on Tinker’s Tower gonged out nine o’clock as I slipped
down the cobblestone street, turning into a narrow alley. A flurry of
snowflakes carried by a stiff winter’s breeze blew down the passage
and up under my cloak. I shivered and pulled the garment closer around me.
Yawning tiredly, I paused to ensure I had not been followed, then entered
through a nondescript door.
Inside, Marcus stood guarding the second door, one hand on his pistol,
the other holding a cup of tea. The scents of anise and orange filled the
small alcove.
I smothered a laugh when he trained his gun on me while taking a sip.
He lowered his teacup. “You’re late, Clem,” he told me with a smirk.
“Suppose they’ll kick me out of the Society?”
“You wish,” he said with a laugh.
I chuckled.
Setting the tea down, he unlocked the door and motioned for me to
enter. “Good luck.”
I huffed a laugh and headed inside. The room within appeared to be a
humble abode. The small flat had a cot, a rough-cut wood kitchen table, and
a cold hearth. The place was perfect in its depiction of misery and
meanness. I crossed the room to the worn wooden cupboard. I eyed the old
wooden pantry. The initials R. M. were rudely carved at the top. I opened
the cupboard door. On one side was a row of shelves sparsely lined with
chipped teacups, empty tea tins, and plates. On the other side was a drum of
potatoes. I slipped around the barrel then slid the panel on the back of the
pantry open to reveal a narrow set of stairs leading below the city. I entered
the tight stairwell, closing the panel behind me, and then descended. I could
already hear voices rising from behind the closed door at the bottom of the
stairs.
Wonderful.
I really was late.
I wound down the stairs, pausing just outside the door. Orange light
poured through the cracks around the doorframe. And with it, warmth. I
rubbed my hands together, my fingers numb from cold, then opened the
door.
Heat and light poured from the room.
They were gathered at a long wooden table; its cherry wood glimmered
with so much polish, reflecting the golden light cast by the chandelier
overhead, that it hurt my good eye. I winced. Every agent sitting at the table
turned and looked up at me.
Agent Hunter was already passing out dossiers as he went over the
weekly report. He gave me the briefest of glances.
“Clemeny, good of you to join us,” he said.
I slipped into my seat. “A bit early for someone on my beat.”
“Yes. Well, we all have challenges,” he replied.
I looked around the table. Half the other agents were rolling their eyes
or frowning at me. Unfriendly bunch. The other half looked on with
sympathy. Friendly enough. And a few others—Pippa, Cressida, and Hank
—smirked and passed me knowing glances. Friends.
I scanned the room for Harper. She wasn’t there.
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