always and forever is forever young
your shadow on the pavement, the dark side of the sun

In the dining hall the cutlery clattered cheerfully, and the monotonous murmur of voices indicated that nobody had yet spotted the impish deity and the ragged young girl, neither of whom were where they were supposed to be.

He reached out and took the shell as offered, turning it over in his hand. It was a small conch shell, ridged pale brown and cream on the outside and a dainty, pastel pink on the inside. The young girl handed it to him as if it were a priceless treasure, and Mallos' heart sank a little. No butcher, baker or grocer would trade their wares for something so common and worthless, however much it inspired the imagination of a child. Where was Grimbaud getting her food from, if she thought such a thing might get her a meal? If the harsh reality of her predicament (of which she must have been in for some while, judging by the state of her) had not yet hit her, then the only explanation could be that someone else had been shielding her. Mallos glanced across at the familiar and ran his eyes over her briefly.

“It's beautiful,” he agreed, holding it back out for Grimbaud to take. “You should keep it. I don't need anything.”

He held out his hand for her to take, rather than reaching across to grasp hers, and glanced at Gisli again as though checking for permission.

“My name's Mallos,” he offered in return, keeping his voice low but warm. They still hadn't been noticed. When Grimbaud took his hand, he stood up and led her back the way he'd come, being careful to go at a neutral pace. If they crept along slowly or walked too fast, they were more likely to be noticed. Fortunately, they made it across the entrance hall without being spotted, and turned left to the servants' passageways. Once there, it wouldn't matter who saw or heard them, so Mallos felt safer talking at his normal volume. “Where do you live, Grimbaud?” He asked carefully. “Who looks after you?”

Quite frankly, the answer didn't matter. Either the young girl was homeless and guardianless, or her home and guardian weren't doing their job well enough to claim the title. One way or another, she wasn't leaving the castle tonight if Mallos had something to say about it.

The kitchen was blissfully empty, since the kitchen staff were taking their dinner in the back room which led off to their bedrooms. They'd be a while yet, since they'd have to collect the cutlery and crockery from upstairs to wash up before they could return to the kitchen, so he and Grimbaud had plenty of time. Mallos pulled open the pantry, took a quick inventory of what was there and made the swift decision that simple, plain food would be best. Judging by the girl's bony frame, real meals were few and far between for her, and rich food might upset her stomach. He let go of Grimbaud's hand, instructed her to fetch a lemon from the fruit bowl, and pulled flour, sugar, salt, and a couple of eggs out of the pantry. Navigating the kitchen as though he owned it, Mallos extracted a chopping board, sliced the lemon Grimbaud handed him in half, and handed the two halves back to her.

“In that drawer is a lemon squeezer,” he pointed it out while pulling a mixing bowl out from a lower cupboard. “Can you squeeze the lemons if I show you how?” A brief demonstration later, Grimbaud was away, leaving Mallos free to mix up the pancake batter. He flicked a healthy dash of olive oil into a pan and put it on the hob to heat up before checking on his new charge. “Perfect,” he assessed encouragingly.

While he poured the batter into the pan and spread it thinly, creating more of a crêpe than a pancake, he told Grimbaud where to find the cutlery and crockery. Then, having expertly flipped the crêpe for her amusement, he dished it up onto her plate and sat down at the table opposite her.

“There's more if you want more,” he said, placing the sugar and lemon in front of her. “Maybe you can make the next one.”


i can feel you in the silence saying, “let forever be,
love, and only love, will set you free.”