Wool of the Prince-- Chapter 25

Chapter 25

~1,064 words

Across from Jay sat a bored-looking man, mostly bald, and fairly plump. The gray plastic chair he sat in seemed almost to be an outgrowth of his gray-suited body. He squinted through his glasses at the pile of golden orbs Cabot had set on the table. He picked one up and scrutinized it, rolling it between gloved fingers. “You can’t honestly expect me to believe this is real gold,” he said, eying the beat-up clothes Jay’s party were wearing. “Or, if it is, you can’t expect me to believe you’ve come by it through any legal means.”

Cabot’s face grew cold and steely, he smiled his cruelest smile and said, “How very unprofessional of you. Run every test you can on them, they’re real gold. And I would never sink to unscrupulous means to obtain them. Why, one such as I, in such high social standing? Unthinkable.”

Jay noticed the man falter a bit, but he still looked dubious and unwilling to do business. “That’s quite right. If my father,” Jay tried hard not to trip up on that word, “were to steal any large amount of money, he’d do it in a much more fashionable method. Such as stealing a painting. He would never stoop to selling the family’s valuables except on such a rare occasion as this.”

Cabot looked blankly at Jay, who smirked back, trying to get an appropriate reaction. Cabot seemed to understand. “You will quiet yourself, boy. Don’t stick other people’s noses into my personal matters. Haven’t we gone over this? You may not speak unless I allow you to. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. I expect you to pay better attention from here on out.”

The bald man watched this unfold like he was a spectator at a tennis match. “My apologies, sir. I will have to check the authenticity of the gold, however.” He eagerly reached his gloved hand forward, but paused, inches away from the pile of orbs, and looked up at Cabot.

Waving his hand dismissively, Cabot said, “Go ahead,” then sat back in his seat, looking bored.

The bald man scooped up the pile of glimmering gold and exited the room with a “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Please make yourselves comfortable.”

When the door clicked shut, Cabot let out a small, barely perceptible sigh of relief. “I wasn’t sure how people act here, but I assumed it would be similar to how they act everywhere.”

“You did well,” Jay acknowledged. Jay surveyed the room in the brief silence that followed. The desk took up the majority of the room, commanding and bulky. The walls were beige, and there was a potted plant in the corner. A window was set into the wall opposite Jay and Cabot. From here, Jay could see the city skyline. The day was cloudy, but the sun illuminated the clouds brightly. Fleta crossed his mind, and Jay wondered how she was doing, sitting in the lobby. She hadn’t really spoken much since she had seen the size of the city. Jay hoped she would be alright.

Cabot was starting to get fidgety. He played with the ties on the cape he continued to wear. It brought him strange looks from passers-by, but he didn’t seem to care: he just pulled it tight against the cold Chicago winter. Jay was glad he was still had the winter clothes from climbing the mountain.

“Do you know how time works between Earth and your world?” Jay asked.

“The enchantress told me it was parallel, that both worlds ran at the same time. If we spend six weeks on Earth, six weeks in Trevon also pass.”

Relief flooded Jay. He had been afraid that Earth time went much faster than Trevon time, because Cabot had mentioned that the last times he had been to Earth, there was nothing but nature. “So every time you go through the portal, you get deposited in a different location, but not a different era?” Jay asked.

“That is correct.”

Jay whistled. “Then it’s lucky we ended up here. There are all sorts of places we could have landed that I wouldn’t have been able to do anything about. The ocean for example. Or some hostile country. Here I knew exactly where we were.”

“Must have been the Fates,” Cabot said, his face serious.

Jay nodded and stared out the window.

A while later, the man came back in quietly, as if he didn’t want to interrupt the conversation that wasn’t going on between Cabot and Jay. He cleared his throat and said, “This is indeed real gold. However, before we commence with the pricing, I’ll need to see some identification.”

Oh no, Jay thought. Of course Cabot doesn’t have identification. He just came here illegally via magical portal.

Cabot glanced at Jay, uncertain on how to proceed. Jay widened his eyes, panicked. “Um… we’ve been talking, you know, father to son,” Jay started, “and we’ve decided that we don’t like the looks of your business here, and we would prefer to take our gold elsewhere.” Jay stood abruptly, but Cabot was right in sync. Cabot reached out his hand, and the man shook.

“Thank you,” Cabot said.

“I presume we get some sort of certification that this gold is authentic?” Jay asked, trying to sound less presumptuous than he felt.

The man looked like providing any favors was the last thing he wanted to do, but he grunted, and handed a thick plastic bag to Cabot. Inside the bag was a little card, presumably one that vouched for the authenticity of the gold.

Cabot and Jay started to walk out of the room, but the man called after them. “What’s wrong with our business?” He was looking forlornly at the bag of golden orbs. He probably hadn’t seen that much gold walk into the building in many months, if ever. And he certainly had never seen it leave so abruptly.

Jay tried to think of some fault with the business, but he couldn’t. Finally, he gave up and, mustering all his snootiness, spat, “The view.”

“I don’t know where we can go now,” Jay said throwing his hands up in the air. He had been so certain that this plan was going to work.

“A city is a city,” Cabot said grimly. “It must have its own underground market, with people willing to trade.”