Azari sighed internally. As much as she craved to agree to the spirit’s offer, she had plans to leave the Mortal Plane as soon as she could, leaving the servitude of her two dismal masters without a single look backwards.
“As much as it pains me to decline your gracious offer, I am afraid that I must do so,” she told him, casting a quick glance at the window. “I do not wish to linger in London for long. As soon as the weather improves, I will be on my way and, if fate permits, done with my business by the end of the day.”
His master must have been a kind one, though, to allow him to have a living space all of his own on top of paying him a worker’s wage. If only she were so lucky.
Unless his master and employer were two different people, and the latter was unaware of the fact that he was a spirit. That would be very strange, though, given that magicians wore lenses that allowed them to see through the guises of most spirits, and even commoners could subconsciously sense a spirit’s aura, often experiencing uneasiness, nausea, anxiety or similar inconveniences. Surely, it was difficult to fool a Londoner surrounded by spirits day and night; humans were an adaptable sort and it usually didn’t take long until they developed defense mechanisms against the “unnatural.” Some had Sight, others Resilience… No, spirits of the rank djinni and below could have a hard time staying hidden among the populace. Of course, it wasn’t impossible - it all depended on the spirit’s power and the type of people they were up against. Azari wasn’t really sure; she was rather new to 21st century London and was yet to find out more about its affairs. She would have to ponder the situation later, preferably with a cup of tea in hand.
“My good sir, is the tea ready?” she asked Mr Cartwright, snapping back to reality. “The torrent outside does not seem to lessen and I do believe that all three of us would benefit from a warm beverage.”
Another coughing fit seemed to highlight her point as Kathleen seemed to be in the process of hacking her lungs out. Poor dear.
“You should invest in a warm sweater, young lady,” Azari told her gently. She herself was a great fan of the garment and her guise wore it often when not attending to a librarian’s duties. It was like a woolen equivalent of a hot cup of tea during a rainy day. “Or a scarf, at least. The English weather is seldom merciful even to the most stalwart of immune systems.”
It was impossible to tell if the spirit had understood what he was hinting at, but Maahes desperately hoped that he had been successful. He gave a nod and a smile - ignoring the look on Kitty’s face at the suggestion of the sweater - at the spirit, already getting out two cups of tea.
“Do you want anything in your tea?” he asked. It was only after he poured the cups that he realized he should have gotten one for himself - he hated putting anything in his body, but he had grown used to do it. He just had to occasionally remember to act like he actually wanted to put it there.
He got himself out a cup.
“I don’t want anything in mine,” Kitty begrudgingly said; even the tea itself was clearly a compromise she didn’t want. But tea didn’t work well on its own, and he knew she needed a little bit more.
“I’m putting honey in yours,” he said. He poured himself a cup and added in some honey, too - his essence wanted less, but he knew he couldn’t get away with the minimum. He needed to act like a normal human, and food and drinks were surprisingly good ways to add to the illusion.
He looked up to see Kitty frowning at him.
“I don’t want honey,” she said.
“The tea is supposed to make you feel better,” he pointed out - sometimes, talking to her reminded him of the younger patrons of the libraries he had worked in before his time with Annie. “Honey helps soothe your throat.”
This protest was cut off by another bout of coughing, so Maahes wisely took the opportunity and slid a cup of tea - now with honey - over to Kitty.
