Here we are with another Tuesday Teaser – I love these!
This week, author L.N. Hunter is sharing The Feather and the Lamp with us. Here is Hunter’s Linktree for more information.
The Feather and the Lamp
by
L.N. Hunter
The journalists in the chamber packed away their notebooks and prepared to leave as the Gatekeeper made her ceremonial last calls, the traditional signal to indicate the contest’s end.
‘For the penultimate time. Next!’
Silence.
‘For the final time. Next!’ the Gatekeeper bellowed louder than before.
More silence.
She harrumphed and looked around. ‘Well, that seems to be that.’ She leaned back on her stool, looking forward to relaxing at the end of a long day. ‘Guards, close the gate.’
‘Wait! Wait, please!’
The tik-tik-tik-tik of eager footsteps on the stone floor followed the breathless shout.
With a sigh, the Gatekeeper sat up straight again and called, ‘Na—’
‘Imperceptibility Happenstance, Your Gatekeeperiness. Itty Happenstance,’ a panting but cheerful voice cried out. ‘I hope I’m not too late.’
The Gatekeeper harrumphed again and peered over the edge of her desk. A brief frown of confusion appeared above her glasses, while the lips below pursed. She leaned across the desk and adjusted her gaze further downwards, to settle on a rather short young woman in her late teens, with a round, chubby-cheeked face split by a wide, confident grin.
The woman’s upper half was clothed in an eye-watering scarlet and gold striped waistcoat. Below, bright lemon pantaloons with turquoise polka dots assaulted the Gatekeeper’s eyes. These two items of garish clothing met at a lime green sash where her waist would have been, had she tapered in the middle. As if to make certain she offended the entirety of the visual spectrum, a blue and orange checked handkerchief protruded from her breast pocket.
The Gatekeeper sniffed. ‘You want to be an adventurer? But you appear to be female. Are you sure you’re not here for another position? Kitchen staff, or administration, or…’
‘Yes, Madame Gatekeeper, I do indeed. Yes, I am a female. And yes, I’m sure; an adventurer is what I want to be. Is that a problem?’
There was a pause as the Gatekeeper consulted another book on her desk, muttering to herself, ‘I suppose not. There’s nothing in the rules. But we’ve never… There are women working here, naturally, but there’s never been a female adventurer…’
While she waited for the Gatekeeper to address her, Itty looked around the hall, eyes wide as she took in the numerous busts and portraits of adventurers she’d only seen in books back home. She was so absorbed by the images of the famous faces that she didn’t notice the chamber was designed to be intimidating—harsh stone walls, tall columns with crows nesting on top, and gloomy lighting.
The Gatekeeper cleared her throat. ‘Never mind. Tradition exists to be challenged. What have you brought, young lady?’
Itty jumped as if she’d forgotten what she was doing here. She patted the pockets of her pantaloons before finding and extricating her treasure from inside her waistcoat. Smiling, she carefully smoothed and flourished what looked to all like a feather. Surely, the audience was thinking, it must be a very special feather, a uniquely remarkable piece of plumage…
‘I have brought a feather from the underside of a Common Arcanian goose.’
As one, the remaining spectators in the hall gasped. Prince Ollipher, standing with the other two new adventurers, sniggered. One of the journalists withdrew her notebook from her satchel; this was going to be worth writing down.
The Gatekeeper stared at the young woman in front of her. ‘A feather? From a common goose? You are aware that the penalty for time-wasting is execution?’
Itty gulped, and several expressions crossed her face as if she was trying then discarding appropriate responses. In the end, she simply nodded.
The Gatekeeper riffled the pages of her ledger, then riffled some more. She sniffed, harrumphed, looked at her feather quill in its holder, and sniffed again. Finally, she removed her glasses and peered down the slope of her narrow nose at the nervously smiling, round face. ‘We don’t have one of those listed in our catalogue, that is true. However, the question is, Mast— er, Mistress Happenstance, why on Earth did you bring one to the Museum of Rare and Unique Objects?’
‘Well, Honourable Gatekeeper, that’s an interesting story. It all started on my way to the library one morning…’
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