Chapter 1.19 - In which Percy gets his Vista

Percy

Month 11, Day 3, Tuesday 1:00 p.m.

Percy was free to leave. But, since he wanted to accompany the coppers back to Schubert’s Photo Emporium along with the returned satchel of goods, he had to sit around and wait for them to be ready.

Copper Bradshaw, a man with unfortunately orange hair and an easy smile, leaned toward Percy conspiratorially, despite being an entire desk away, which meant that nothing he said would be a secret. “So, was it really just an accident? And how did you manage a three-against-one fight? Did you guys notice how that one perp actually flinched when we made him walk past the kid?” he added, looking around.

Slowly, Percy began to tell his side of the story, growing more enthusiastic as they responded with perked ears and guffaws. One woman with two cat-like ears atop her head and a tail accidentally knocked a mug of coffee off her desk when her tail lashed out in mirth.

Despite the way most people seemed to feel about the coppers, and Percy’s own history with people in authority never believing him, he discovered that most of the coppers were actually quite pleasant. Despite how exhausted, in pain, and apprehensive he was, he found that re-framing everything as a ludicrous story helped to ease his own mind.

Copper Alma moved as if to clap him on the shoulder but caught herself at the last moment, wincing as she remembered that Percy’s body was still one big bruise. “Maybe one day you’ll join the crew, huh? I think you’d look great in the uniform.”

Percy frowned thoughtfully. “Only if you have coppers that do paperwork exclusively. I could do that.”

Every single copper within listening distance, even those who hadn’t seemed to be paying attention, stopped and turned toward Percy. They looked at him and then shared meaningful glances with each other.

“The prophesied savior has appeared,” Copper Bradshaw intoned, his sparkling eyes and wide grin contrasting the fervor of his voice.

“You can be my partner,” another piped up immediately.

“Hey! No fair,” another said, giving him a light shove. “The savior belongs to everyone.”

“I already called dibs,” Copper Alma said, hands on her hips and chest thrust out. “And if anyone has a problem with that, you can fight me.” She lifted one arm and flexed the muscle. “We can go out back right now.”

The others grumbled playfully, but conceded.

Percy pressed a hand to his mouth to cover his laugh, and Copper Alma winked at him.

When the coppers had finished processing everything, Percy hopped into a carriage with Lieutenant Robards and Copper Shelleck. Both men remained silent. Without the boisterousness of the station and the people intent on cheering him up, Percy fell into introspection.

Things had been going so well for him, but today proved that nothing had really changed. Instead of all his bad luck disappearing, it was as if it had been accumulated over the last few weeks only to crash down on him like an avalanche.

When they arrived at Schubert’s Photo Emporium, the back door was still open and the shutters over the large front windows still down.

Several people stood around, peeking in through the back door and gossiping.

Percy scanned the ground carefully before he hopped out of the carriage. The constant caution that he had slowly been retiring was restored in full force. Obviously, he had been foolish to become so complacent.

One of the women standing around gasped dramatically, with one hand over her mouth and the other pointing straight at Percy. “It’s him! That’s the thief!”

Percy cringed.

Mr. Schubert bustled out of the back door, a clipboard in hand, squinting over the top of his half-moon glasses. The edges of his mouth turned down in obvious dismay when he saw Percy.

Lieutenant Robards made a practiced calming motion with his hands, palms metaphorically pressing down on the commotion, and explained the situation. “Mr. Irving’s actions have done some good today, at extreme risk to his own well-being,” he concluded.

The woman who had accused Percy blushed but didn’t apologize.

Lieutenant Robards handed over a few boxes of items to Mr. Schubert—everything that had been thrown haphazardly into C Dog’s satchel.

Mr. Schubert looked through the boxes, then pulled out an artifact with a familiar polished copper casing. The Vista 500.

Percy’s heart sank. He hadn’t even noticed C Dog taking her! It must have happened while Percy was distracted trying to decide what to do.

Mr. Schubert fiddled with the artifact for a moment, his lips thinning.

Was she damaged?

He looked at Percy for a moment, then went back into his shop and came out with a familiar canvas bag. Percy hadn’t even realized that he dropped the shopping Mom had asked him to pick up.

The man handed over the bag, and then a plain black box. “Thank you, Percival,” he said simply.

Percy set the bag on the ground and opened the box. Inside, on a bed of velvet, lay the Vista 500. She had several scratches, a dent, and the trigger button had been chipped and sat a little loose. She was still beautiful.

Percy’s eyes widened, and he blinked in astonishment, then looked up at Mr. Schubert. Maybe this was some cruel misunderstanding. Maybe Mr. Schubert was not, in fact, giving him a gift.

“It’s the least I can do after you almost got yourself killed trying to defend the Emporium,” Mr. Schubert said. “You…probably realized that, if that horrible man got away with everything, the Emporium would have had to shut down, right?”

Percy’s eyes widened.

“It was foolish of me, but as you may have noticed, sales haven’t been as good as I originally hoped. I let the insurance lapse. It was so expensive, and I thought this was a nice enough part of the city that I would still be safe. For a few months, at least until things pick back up again. There will be a rush during the Sowing Break if I can just hold out that long, I know it.”

Percy had not been aware of any of that.

Mr. Schubert looked down at the box in Percy’s hands, his wrinkled eyes suspiciously shiny. “I know you’ve been eyeing the Vista for a long time. There’s been a little damage to this one, and a few scratches, but she still works. I’m sure you’ll take good care of her.”

Percy’s eyes welled with tears. “I—I—”

Mr. Schubert clapped him on the shoulder. “No need to thank me. I’m happy to support the dreams of someone else who appreciates the magic, and not just of the spells engraved into the working. The magic of the art. But,” he added, eying Percy’s wounds. “Never do something like that again. You could have lost a life worth much, much more than some artifacts or an old man’s shop.”

The tears spilled over Percy’s eyelids and slid down his cheeks, stinging faintly when the salt water seeped into the bandage over one of the gashes the rooster had left. “I can’t take this home today.”

“Nonsense! She’s yours, and I won’t hear another word about it.”

“No, I mean, I need to pay to have protective enchantments placed. All of the protective enchantments.”