Emilia finds a demon who says she can see her dead mother;as long as she does what he asks |
The Cape of Glass Flowers ~ The Whispering White Raven Summary: Emilia is seven, an orphan and library worker in Venice. One day, she finds a strange medallion, and a spirit harboring inside it promises she can see her mother, whom she'd never met, as long as she does what is asked. ________________________________________________________________________ Emilia placed a crusty, leather-bound book back in its place exactly one shelf above her head; standing carefully on her tiptoes so as not to fall and cause the cart of library books behind her to tip over. With grace and ease, the browned moth-eaten book slipped back into its spot without any mishaps, and Emilia smiled, proud of her work. She scanned the serial numbers on the spine for one last good measure, and checked them with her crumpled piece of paper she had retrieved from her blue windbreaker's pocket. Matching every number for a number, Emilia was satisfied and stuffed the paper back into her jacket. With one good shouldered shove, the book cart squeaked away again, Emilia at the head, wheels bickering and screaming all the way down the aisle about their lack of elbow grease. Smiling, Emilia checked the next book up in line, and deduced that it had to go into the restricted section in the back corner of the library, since it had a red letter “X” next to the number. Marveling in the simplicity and euphoria of her job, Emilia pushed along. She sighed and gazed out a large one-story window to the Venetian sunset, engulfing her in it's bright rays of light. See, it was only recently after her grandmother had passed away, that Emilia had taken her job here in the Venice Library. She was told she could take a few more breaks and stop for lunch because she was so young, but Emilia wanted to make sure she did a good job so her nanny would be proud of her and brag to all her angel-friends up in Heaven. Besides, putting books back in their place was a simple task; and it pleased her. The Library in Venice was a superb, elegant, but simple place; visitors from around the globe would come to see it and it's magnificent dome circling high overhead, filled with the paintings of many famous Italian artists in one big collage. Emilia herself once looked up at the dome roof, and found if she stared hard enough for a long time, she'd fall down dizzy and dazzled at the same time. It amused her quite a bit when she'd arrived on the first day of her job. Sighing, Emilia took her gaze away from the fire-y sunset reflecting off the water ways, and back to her task at hand. Humming to herself, the eight-year old child found her way to the back corner on the second story of the building, and stopped her cart. She had reached for the next book – a wide, dusty black and stained thing – but stopped when she heard the abrupt and sharp edge of her Aunt Margot's voice, clipped and crisp through a few aisle over. “It's not here,” she heard Margot say hastily, “It might have been a long time ago, but this library has been renovated, and it's probably long gone by now. You're wasting both my time and yours.” Emilia heard a short scuffle, then an eerie and tense silence settled over the area. Curious and eager to feed her over-reactive imagination, Emilia leaned in closer and peeped a shallow blue eye through a gap in between two encyclopedias. In it, she could make out the petite and frail form of her grandmother's good friend, Margot, and two other figures dressed in odd old-century dress clothes. Margot was a pasty white and biting her lips hard, her good hand gripping her walking cane with an intent to strangle something. Startled, Emilia tried to look closer. She had never ever seen Margot so mad before – not even when Emilia had spilled hot coffee all over the good carpet down in the cafe had Margot gotten mad, so this was very uncharacteristic of her. Again she heard a scuffle, and then a whisper of a man's deep voice. One of them had definitely said something to Margot, but of what Emilia couldn't hear. She could only see Margot's form grow tense, and step back to let the two shady men pass. As Emilia hid herself behind the corner of the bookshelf, she watched the men whistle to another man looking at a painting on a wall. She realized he must have been there the whole time without her knowing. A small pang of worry stabbed her heart. Had he seen her? The man gazing at the painting turned around, and nodded calmly to the men like he had heard everything already. All three of them then turned around and left the library together. Emilia's worries eased as they left; the painting-gazer must not have seen her after all. Still, more curious than your average cat, Emilia left her library duties alone for the moment and scrambled over to Aunt Margot's aisle, trying to seem as nonchalant and normal as possible. “Auntie Margot!” she called, “who were they?” Margot, stunned at Emilia's unexpected presence, smiled crookedly and patted Emilia's head as she came closer. “No one you need know of,” the old lady said simply. Emilia felt a wave of disappointment come over her, and she pouted. This certainly wasn't the answer she wanted. Margot laughed, her spirits rejuvenated by the young girl's sight. “You know,” she said, “Why don't you finish up upstairs and come meet me in the cafe for some hot chocolate?” she asked. Emilia brightened with a giddy smile, the notion of hot cocoa slipping down her throat fully consuming her thoughts. Well, if the men really weren't that important.... “Okay!” She then turned round, blond hair bobbing, and was about to return to her cart when she caught sight of the painting the shady-looking man was looking at. It was a picture of a giant serpent, with a small little brown mouse caught in its grasp.The serpent was huge, and had shiny green reptilian scales, baring its blood-thirsty fangs to the tiny mouse. Emilia had never paid much attention to it before, and wondered why the shady man would stare at it for so long. She shrugged, and ran back to put her book cart away, unaware of Margot's watchful eyes, sad and old with the wisdom of many generations... ... and heavy with a secret burden she had kept too long. Her eyes lingered for a moment too long on a black grimy leather book in Emilia's cart, bouncing to the rumble of the cart's uneven wheels. |