Chapter Nine

190 5 0
                                    

Martha was up before the sun had risen. She found herself doing that a lot. It seemed she couldn't get any sleep, and when she did it was tainted by nightmares of Morrigan screaming.

Since the younger girl had come to stay at the Hotel Deucalion, Martha had developed a fondness for her. She found herself paying close attention to the jobs she did for Morrigan. She made sure her drinks were at the perfect temperature, her clothes neatly folded and put away, and her breakfast ready every morning before school.

It was definitely odd not having Morrigan around.

On the first day without Morrigan, Martha was delivering ice cream to the guests' rooms. Forgetting that the black eyed girl was missing, Martha made her way to Room 85 with her trolley. On it sat the usual orders, but in Morrigan's bowl there was an extra scoop of ice cream and a lot more chocolate syrup. It was just the way Morrigan liked.

Martha found herself upset and lonely without the younger girl, so she distracted herself by doing her usual chores. She thought that maybe this was the reason that she forgot Morrigan wasn't in her room.

After approaching the room, she knocked on the door. After no response, she knocked again.

'Morrigan? It's me. I've got your ice cream!'

Still no response. She raised to knock on the door a third time, but it opened before her knuckles could touch the wood.

'She's not here, Martha.' His voice was broken. Dry. His eyes were red and puffy. His cheeks held the tracks of dried tears. He had no doubt been crying for a few hours.

'Jove?' At the sudden remembrance that Morrigan was not at the Deucalion, Martha felt tears spring into her eyes. 'What are you doing here? How long have you been in here for?' Martha hadn't seen him much that day. She assumed that he was working in his study like usual and wanted to remain undisturbed. It hadn't occurred to her that he may be in Room 85.

'I-I don't know.' The ginger haired man usually stood with perfect posture and had a loud, strong voice. Now, however, he crouched in on himself, and his voice shook as he spoke. He seemed like a young boy.

Martha noticed he was fidgeting with something in his hands, and when she looked down, she recognised it as Emmett, Morrigan's stuffed rabbit. 'Oh, Jove.'

Jupiter turned around and walked in Morrigan's room. Martha followed, bringing in the ice cream meant for Morrigan and shut the door behind her. She offered the bowl to Jupiter who took it gratefully.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the clinking of metal on glass as Jupiter ate the ice cream. Finally, he spoke.

'I feel like I've failed her.'

'Jupiter you haven't—'

'But Martha I have!' She flinched at his sudden outburst. Jupiter was usually able to contain himself when he was upset, but she knew how important Morrigan was to him. He had stood up, placing the empty ice cream bowl on Morrigan's bedside table. 'I am supposed to save her, not endanger her. Who was there for her when she was going to die on Eventide? Me! Who was there for her when she needed a safeguard? Me! Who was there for her when they threatened to throw her out of WunSoc? Me!' Tears were rising in his eyes. Martha didn't know what to do other than sit quietly and listen. 'I wasn't there when it mattered most. And now, I may have lost my little girl forever. I love her so much. She means the world to me. She's my Mog.' Now, the tears were flowing like rivers down his cheeks. Jupiter sat back down, taking his spot next to Martha again.

'Firstly, she's not a little girl.' Martha was cautious with her words, not wanting to upset the Captain any further. When the only response she got was a puzzled look, she elaborated. 'Jove, she's sixteen! She's not that same eleven year old girl you saved in Jackalfax. She's a lot more mature now, and is almost a fully trained Wundersmith. Morrigan can handle herself.'

Jupiter considered this, and slowly nodded. Martha lightly exhaled in relief. She was glad that the Captain hadn't yelled at her yet.

'And secondly,' she began again, 'you haven't failed anyone.' Jupiter opened his mouth to argue but Martha continued before he could speak. 'As you said, you have been there for this girl since Bid Day back in Jackalfax. She knows that you love her wholeheartedly and she would not blame you for this. Morrigan would not want you getting so mad at yourself. If you have any hope of finding her, you need to stay strong.'

Jupiter sighed. 'You're right. I'm sorry, Martha.'

She chuckled. 'You have no reason to apologise. I know what Morrigan means to you. It must be difficult without her.'

Jupiter's ginger hair moved slightly as he shook his head. 'It's more than difficult. It is killing me.'

Martha didn't know exactly what he was feeling. She had no kids of her own, and although she was somewhat of a maternal figure to the girl, her bond with her was nothing like Morrigan's with her patron. Everyone knew it. The two were inseparable and they had made their own little family with Jack. That family was now broken with Morrigan missing meaning that Jupiter's heart was shattered.

Martha placed her arm around Jupiter's shoulders and pulled him closely in an embrace. Once again, they sat in silence but after about five minutes, Martha heard Jupiter lightly snoring. She laid him down on Morrigan's bed and collected the empty bowl before leaving.

That night, she had cried to Charlie in the Smoking Parlour (the walls emitted light purple puffs of lavender scented smoke to aid with sleep, something Martha was struggling with). It seemed that the Deucalion's moods had been brought down significantly, and the only thing that could lift them would be Morrigan's return.

{~~~}

Martha didn't like remembering that first day. Since then, she had never entered Room 85 again. She knew Morrigan was gone. She hated herself for making that first mistake but at the same time she was glad she was able to help the Captain.

Now as she was doing her chores, early in the morning before the rising sun woke up the guests, she dreaded the day to come. The Deucalion staff had been dealing with a rather difficult guest for the last few days and Martha was exhausted. She didn't have the patience today.

As she made her way to the kitchen she heard two voices arguing. One was tired, the other aggressive. Martha rounded the corner and was met with Jupiter arguing with the guest.

'I'm sorry, business is running slow at the moment.' Martha chuckled. That was an understatement. Business had practically stopped since the heart of the Deucalion had been ripped away.

'It's because you don't have Morrigan. That's what it is. You don't have your little Wundersmith.' The woman spat the word. Most of the public had come to terms with Morrigan and her knack, but others, like this woman, still disliked the young girl.

'Again, I'm sorry.'

Martha felt awful for Jupiter. He never got any time for himself. When he wasn't working for the Hotel, he was working on Morrigan's case, trying to locate her.

'Ma'am, what is the problem?' The woman looked to Martha as she asked this with an awful look of disgust plastered on her face.

'The problem,' she began, 'is that I got up bright and early this morning, ready to indulge in some breakfast, but there was none.'

Martha sighed. 'Ma'am I'm sorry, but we don't serve breakfast on Sundays.' Sunday. It has been a week without Morrigan.

'Well, why ever not?' shrieked the woman. Gosh, her voice was annoying.

'It's a rest day for my kitchen staff, who are constantly working.' Jupiter ran a hand over his eyes. There were dark circles under them and he was extremely pale. His bright red hair and beard created a harsh contrast with his skin. Martha wondered when the last time he slept was.

'They shouldn't need a break. If this is how you work because your scholar is missing, you need to find her.'

When the woman next spoke, Martha and Jupiter sighed. It was the question they were all asking themselves, the question they all begged to know the answer to.

'This needs to be over with soon. When will this be over?'

1440 words

When Will This Be Over?Unde poveștirile trăiesc. Descoperă acum