Moons Apart | Ferry's Tale # 3

World of cards

Ferry met Oona at the corner of the inn where the light of the street lantern did not reach. He was so happy he would have whistled if that hadn't woken the others. He felt as light as a bird in the sky. The little time he had spent with Matilda on the roof, without saying anything, just holding her hand, as if she had given him wings. Wings to believe anything. Now, nothing could stand in his way. Everything was possible.

"Has anyone seen you?" Oona asked in a whisper when she saw him.

"No. Sage was exhausted. He fell asleep immediately. And Parsley was sleeping in his chair when I left. Has anyone seen you?"

"Oh, it was easy for me," Oona chuckled. "I had to slip a few drops of valerian into their tea. They fell asleep instantly. Although I think Rosemary suspected something. But it was too late to fight back, anyway. "

"Oona, you can't give them sleeping potions without their will!" Ferry said, trying to keep his voice down.

"Keep calm, they are harmless. Besides, I wouldn't hurt anyone on purpose. Unless they annoy me very, very bad. But that rarely happens. "

Ferry shook his head. Oona's unpredictable nature was beginning to worry him. He never knew what she was thinking or what she was going to do next. With her, he always felt on the edge.

They both headed for the address of the poker house. The building was in a dark dead-end, in a neighborhood not very honorable, nor very safe, not far from the inn. Quite the opposite, in fact. Ferry could see how dangerous everything became as they stepped away from the neighborhood. On every street corner, there were two or more people talking or smoking, with their faces always hidden in the shadows. The streets were getting narrower, darker, and filthier. The stench of urine and trash was getting more intense. Darkness and whispers grew around them as they advanced toward the building at the end of the alley.

When they arrived, the street was completely dark, the only source of light coming from a  lantern hanging above the entrance of the house at the bottom of the street. The house looked old, but solid and imposing compared to the small, cramped houses around it. Oona turned invisible, but Ferry could still feel her presence close to him through the subtle scent of wild flowers.

He took a deep breath and knocked with the heavy lion's head ring on the door. The wooden door, swollen by rain and snow, opened with a long creak. Behind it, a man's head came out; he had a puffy face and a blurred look from the alcohol in which he probably sunk most of the time.

"Yes?" he said in a husky voice.

"I'm here for the poker game," Ferry said.

The man opened the door wide and Ferry came in. He felt Oona's scent coming in with him. He stopped in a dimly lit hallway. The man was grumpy and crooked. He looked at Ferry from the bottom up.

"Aren't you a little young for such games, boy?" he asked in a voice that betrayed too much tobacco.

"What does it matter how old I am as long as I have money?" Ferry replied, feeling the little money from his father he had in his pocket.

The man mumbled something Ferry didn't understand. "Follow me," he eventually said, barely moving in front of him.

He led Ferry into a saloon sunk into the same milky light that made all the furniture shrouded in fog. It was a large room crowded with massive pieces of furniture, decorated with leaf and fruit patterns. Ferry sat on one of the black leather armchairs. The air was heavy and smelled of tobacco, coffee, booze, and leather, and Ferry felt it heavy against his skin and shoulders. Several men smoked cigars and drank expensive drinks from crystal glasses. They were talking, sitting in armchairs or beside high tables, each with an ashtray. Everyone looked at him mockingly and laughed in his face. Ferry struggled not to betray his emotions, but one of his legs had already begun to tap a regular and nervous rhythm.