The next meeting started much like the first, Tepic in a small pool of light, and the ghostly white figure staying back in the shadows. They looked at each other, both giving a slight nod – the agreement was reached. The boy stepped forward and crouched down, placing two, thick cardboard boxes on the ground, gently lifting the lids. Nestled inside on a bed of cotton waste were two blown eggs, the hole on their tops the size of a fingertip.
Taking a small knife from inside his coat, he nicked the end of his finger, and squeezed several drops of blood into each shell, then stepped back, leaving the boxes and knife on the floor. The shadowed figure had stiffened at the smell of blood, as the boy had expected, but trust, or at least mutual respect, had to start somewhere. After a few seconds, the other party stepped forward, giving Tepic a clearer view, long, rangy limbs, skin the colour and shine of polished alabaster, black straggely hair. There was a grace and strength to the movement though that was counter to the apperence. Picking up the knife, the other cut into his flesh, letting a few drops fall into each egg, mingling with the blood already there. The bargin was sealed.
The figure closed one of the boxes, reluctantly placed the knife back on the ground, and stepped backward into the darkness, taking the box with him. Tepic moved forward, retrieved his knife and the other box, and returned, watlking backwards, to the light.
“So if either of us wants ter break the accord, smash the egg an put it here, accord stays until the other smashes his egg an puts it on top, or puts his egg unbroken on top, which means a talk under truce.”
There was a nod, and Tepic continued, “There’s a shipment of bullocks comin in tomorrow night down in Port… Someone as found the main drain under the cattle market might find the griddle in the floor ain’t never bolted properly, if yer get me meaning, an they don’t do a full count til the morning”
A whispering voice came from the darkness, warning that not all his bretheren were part of his family, and as such the urchins should be careful still. In particular, he warned of a female, an outcast or renegade who might go by the name of Nefertiti.
The boy nodded in agreement, there were always some who had to go their own way, and with warnings any problems in the accord could be avoided.
The other left, less by some visible sign, but more by a presence fading. Tepic climbed up the ladder, carefully nursing the box, which he would put in a very safe place!
I knew that Nefertiti was no good. Even amongst Morlocks she’s an outcast.