“Tell me what it is, Sophie, is it a gun?”
“A guhn--A Guhn!?” Sophie hissed. “He would neevar accept a simple 'guhn'...it is a rare gem, powered by human spirit—it will destroy all power for us to recreate!” She smiled again, retrieving her composure as if she never lost it, resting a hand on her hips and swaying from foot to foot. “You will see it. Perhaps.”
Malloy nodded slowly and began to walk past her. The only choice Malloy had now was forward and his feet buckled at the thought, his hands shook in his pockets.
“Need I warn you that you may not be going back to the Academy tonight?” Sophie piped as Malloy wandered down the narrow walkway of the warehouse. He looked back at her slate eyes and didn't feel like answering. The dead weight on his chest sank only deeper since he first heard he had to come.
Echoing off of machinery and pipes hanging around him, Malloy heard a distinct metallic rattle from his footsteps. He wished he could have seen what the ground was really made of, but in the deep darkness that Brim Knights preferred, he had to go by ear. Unnatural light bothered the Brim, so to see the few bulbs on in the factory gave him the small comfort that, at the very least, the Brim wasn't open at the moment.
The Doctor glanced up at the ceiling windows filled with night sky, the stars of Leo intersecting with black steel pipes hanging high in the rafters, cold and lifeless. Large machinery reached around the metal walkway and twisted over his head like statues in a garden. A familiar feeling, it wasn’t so disparate from Pendleson’s garden.
Faces looked at him from around corners and Malloy tried to ignore them. One man in particular walked out of the shadows, smiling ear to ear.
“He covered it up.” Said the man in front of him with blond hair and a very large chin. He had the poise of a Leyendecker model and dressed nearly the same way. “I even came twenty minutes early—and it's all covered up.”
“Sophie thinks she's seen it, Max.” Malloy answered, buttoning up his jacket so it touched his neck.
“She lies.” Max smiled as brilliant as a bracelet, “Compulsive liar.” He reached into the pocket of his jaunty suit and pulled out some mints. “Its funny seeing you back here.” Max remarked offhandedly. Malloy almost laughed at such a strange comment to say in such a place and position like this; After all of these years Max still only had the empathy of an oven mitt.
“I heard the devil gives you second chances, too.”
“But will the fates above us give you three?” Max laughed. “Or have you made your mind?”
“Ah! So you believe in fates, now?” Malloy asked slyly. “I guess they don't ask for money.”
“Ferdinand, When you get this old you have to start believing in something or people think you have problems.” He offered Malloy some mints from a tin in the shape of a flamingo.
“A Peck doesn't have problems.” Malloy muttered as he refused the mints, a fair exchange for what Max used to chew on when he was under pressure.
“Well, I don't know; a history of gangs that tamper...every so often...with the paranormal, a really picky mother, a stupid son, and an allergy to toast..”
“One day you'll eat gluten again.” Behind them Malloy heard the footsteps to remind him they were not alone. He held his breath and tried to appear calm.
“I break out in hives. It's hideous. Makes me want to murder people.” Max crunched his mint that he had taken only seconds before and took out a new one. “You should invent the solution to my food problem. I'll pay good money.”
“I'll look into it.” Malloy lied; He knew too much about Peck's money.
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