Sunny's Place

Dawn rose, lavender and blush, over Sunny’s Place. The early daybreak glow shone through the colorful glass at the front of the cafe, splashes of green and blue and orange tossed out over the pale floor. Tables stood at the ready, a fresh beeswax sheen on each surface. Benches and stools huddled up close underneath, unneeded for a few more moments. Pots of abundant pothos hung at the glassy apertures, a forecast of the day passed from leaf to leaf as they counted down the clock.

Every day, at 5 A.M. on the dot, the doors swung open. No pomp or urgency, only a speechless welcome and the smell of coffee to lure the passerby deeper to the heart of the cafe. Past the plants and tables, benches and beeswax and color-drenched floors sat the counter: burdened under the bounty of bread and pastry, bags of coffee beans, and the spectacular apparatus that produced the greatest offer of all - espresso. Smooth cortados, delectable lattes, creamy mochas, whatever one could want could be made at Sunny’s Place.

Kendal loved the cafe. He loved the hushed and steady days punctuated by bursts of patronage, the nutty smell of coffee, and the cozy atmosphere that no bad day could erode. As the sun rose over Ashstone, he felt far from the town’s wakeful rumble.

“Hey, Ken!” Jen, Kendal’s short, blonde coworker breezed up to the counter, dumped her tote bag on a corner table, and beamed. “We’ve got another lovely day on our hands!”

“Hey, Jen,” he answered softly, loath to unsettle the peace. He shuffled to the left to make room for her at the counter. Sunny’s hadn’t been constructed to accommodate more than a few employees, and Kendal’s broad frame towered over anyone nearby. He was overly self-aware when the rushes demanded two to man the coffee makers, but Jen never seemed to care when they jostled shoulders or bumped hands. He took a swallow of coffee and frowned. The brew wasn’t as good as usual. “Ready for whatever adventure today has to offer.”

Jen bounced over to the espresso maker, fondly known to the crew as Colossus, and played her hand over the knobs and buttons. She coaxed shots from the spouts and blended assorted syrups over a mug of steamed cream. Colossus rumbled, a purr deep among the cogs and gadgets that ran through the metal monster.

Kendal noted absently that Colossus’s usual glow was muted. The enchantment laced through the metal, through the whole cafe for that matter, was powered by a small mage’s gem at the core of Colossus. Colossus was the owner - Sunny’s - greatest joy, and greatest gamble. Some avowed that no good would come of those who pushed the known bounds of charmed foods and opened such “exploratory tests of beveromancy” to the general market. But customers came all the same, and no one had yet turned green or exploded, so the cafe kept on.

Jen tasted the brew and made a face. As she opened her mouth to speak, her elbow bumped Colossus’s hull, and a sheet of the metal cover fell to the counter, screws a-clatter.

They bent down to check out the ruckus. The hollow where the gem was supposed to be was starkly, dreadfully, empty.

Kendal’s heart dropped as Jen gasped. The world was on mute as they gazed wordlessly at the empty slot, then at each other.

That gem was the soul of Sunny’s Place. Already, the mood of the shop sagged, the enchantments woven throughout the structure weak and remote.The very bedrock groaned as they stood, stunned.

Jen swallowed. “Should we report th-”

“Hold that thought.”

They wheeled. A woman shrouded by a shadowy duster stood at the counter.

“May we help you?” Kendal asked gruffly. He had a hunch she wasn’t here for a coffee.

“Word on the street says you need someone who knows how to sneak.”

“Pardon?”

The woman stepped closer. “You need someone who knows where the jewel went.”

Jen slammed her hands on the counter. “What’d you do?”

“Hold your horses, We’ll get to that. All you need to know for now? Hope’s not lost.”

Kendal leaned over the counter. “Talk fast.”

“Where are my manners?” The woman seemed unfazed. “Mor’s the name, and rogue’s the trade. You need a burglar and yours truly needs a job. At any rate, a chance to redeem myself to the best coffee shop around town would be worth the venture.”

“Redeem?” Jen demanded.

Mor dropped a paper on the glossy counter. Kendal scowled but grabbed the parchment and unfolded the message.

Procure the gem that powers Sunny’s cafe and your success could be well rewarded.

“Y’know Barney, that jerk down the street? He just opened that new coffee shop a few blocks over and apparently sees y’all as a threat. The man shelled out three thousand dollars for me to steal that jewel of yours. Took less than an hour out and back. Well worth the effort, honestly. Oh also, you may want to check on the lunette over the back door. Lock’s broken.”

Jen’s mouth fell open. Kendal fought the urge to hurdle the counter and shake answers out of the woman.

“Why are you-”

“A job’s a job. Don’t have to enjoy the results. But even rogues have rules they don’t care to break. My proposal’s a chance for you to get your gem back from those who would use that power thoughtlessly.”

“We don’t have the money.” Jen murmured to Kendal.

“But you do have the best coffee around Ashstone.” Mor gnawed at an absconded apple turnover. “And your lack of funds has been accounted for. You don’t turn me over to the town patrol force, you get the jewel back.”

That couldn’t be all. Kendal leaned forward. “And?”

She opened her arms as though to embrace them both. “You supply me coffee for the foreseeable future, and we all go on our merry ways.”

Jen’s hand tensed around her mug. “Why shouldn’t we turn you over to the force regardless?”

“Sunny would be devastated.” Kendal answered, the truth all to clear. “She can’t know. We have to, Jen.”

Jen sagged, defeated.

Mor brushed sugar flakes from her mouth.

Kendal glowered. “That’s on your tab.”

“Hm, down payment perhaps?”

“Whatever.” He brushed the crumbs from the counter. “You’d better go before Barney’s opens.”

“So we have a deal?”

“Deal.” Jen spoke up. “For Sunny.”

Kendal had a sudden thought. “One last matter to address; Jen can see the future. So don’t try to double cross us.” Jen was one of the powered; humans blessed, or cursed, by fae ancestry. She could read the future as short flashes, and had gotten them out of scrapes before. Now, more than ever before, they needed her power.

“Not always,” Jen amended. “But for now, she’s okay, Kendal.”

“M’lady.” Mor bowed exaggeratedly, then stole away on hushed footfalls out the door to the cobblestone streets.

“Can we trust her?” Kendal asked. “And do we keep the place open? Everyone’s gonna know the coffee’s off.”

“We can hope, and we have too. People would wonder why we’re closed and talk would spread even faster than just an off day.” Jen responded, and turned away. “Help me look for the screws? Some of them fell on the floor.”

Worry suppressed any attempt to chat. Even the pothos above the door seemed to droop under the stress that pulled the breathless breeze taut.

Kendal knelt next to Jen and put a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll be okay. That’s part of the charm of the place. Stuff always works out eventually.”

Jen made an effort to look hopeful. “Fae’s honor?”

Fae were the last creatures he’d trust to uphold anyones honor. But for Jen’s sake… “Fae’s honor.”

<>

The clock dragged on towards noon, and Kendal felt each hour leech by. He couldn’t help but glance at the doors when someone walked past, unsure that Mor would actually hold up her end of the deal. When a small copper-scaled dragon walked through the door, he jumped and dropped an open bottle of syrup.

“Molten McGee!” Jen crowed. “Here for our trade?”

The dragon purred, a basket clenched between her teeth as a sparkle crossed her green eyes.

Jen rushed over and dug out a fresh loaf of sourdough. She beamed. “Thank you!”

She all but leapt back over the counter to make a latte to replace the empty spot left by the bread, and chatted to the dragon as she moved. “How’s the bakery? How’s Ann? Busy? Good! Tell her she needs to come and see me! No, the basket system’s fun, but that means we never see her here at the cafe! Sunny feels the same, for sure.”

The dragon perked up at Sunny’s name.

“Oh, she’s not here today, out of town to try out a new roastery. Wyvern-roasted so she tells me. Not as good as dragon-processed so some say, but novelty’s the name of Sunny’s game.” Jen patted the hulk of Colossus before her. “As we all know well.” The panel popped out of place once more, and a dark look crossed her features.

Kendal slowly cleaned up the puddle of syrup he’d created and gave only half an ear to Jen’s ramble. Not once had the dragon actually spoken, only the largest breeds of wyrms could, but that fact never kept Jen from a good chat. She was good at that, she drew people closer, and ensured that they left happy, hand full of coffee and heart full of sunbeams. He sat back. Maybe the gem was a smaller facet of the place than he thought. The people were pretty noteworthy as well.

Storm clouds crowded across Jen’s brows, and her effervescence subdued. “Tell Ann the coffee’s off today. But we’ll be back up and better than ever by tomorrow.” She rounded the counter and nestled the cup among the layered tea towels held by the basket. “See you later, Madam McGee.”

The dragon narrowed her eyes fondly and slunk out of the cafe. Kendal could vaguely hear the bell sound above the bakery door only a few yards down the street.

The hours lugged on, the faces of customers a blur.

When sunset crept over the rooftops and dyed the shadows a deep plum, Mor appeared once more, a velvet bag cradled on her palm.

“A deal’s a deal.” She handed the bag over to Kendal. He tore at the cords and the purple jewel tumbled out onto the counter. At breakneck speed he yanked the metal cover off and restored the jewel to the hollow at Colossus’s core. A lavender spark sheared off the smooth facets, and Colossus grumbled, then purred contentedly. The store cheered up around them, plants perked deep green leaves and the shop gave a reassured, creaky groan.

Jen pounced on Kendal for a hug. He startled, then hugged her back.

“Now, about that coffee…” Mor rubbed her hands together.

“Pretty late for a latte,” Kendal observed dryly as Jen backed away, embarrassed by the embrace.

“Rogues take no heed to the clock.” Mor rested her elbows on the counter.

“So,” Jen ran an adjustment on Colossus and began to pull espresso. “You’re not concerned about Barney? He’ll be out for revenge, no doubt.”

“He’ll have to catch me.” Mor countered slyly. She accepted the proffered cup and took a deep breath of steam. “Well, been a pleasure, thanks for the joe.” She batted an eye at the two of them, and then melted out onto the street among the sunset shadows.

“That was…” Jen began, and paused to brush her hand over the sheet of metal that concealed the gem. She dropped her head on a hand, pale. The future apparently had a word or two to say.

“We haven’t seen the last of her.” She announced, her eyes nearly shut. “And yours truly’s exhausted.”

“‘Yours truly’?” He asked, askance, and passed her her bag. “Mor’s rubbed off on you already.”

“Oh joy.” Jen shouldered her tote and followed Kendal out to the dusky street. The doors swung closed and locked by unseen means. An unspoken goodbye passed over them. They waved to the cafe and turned away.

“See you tomorrow.” Kendal called as Jen broke off down a street of apartments.

“Better be as uneventful as today.” She joked, and spun under the yellow glow of a streetlamp. She was exhausted, to be sure.

“Don’t speak that on us.” He shuddered.

She stopped and placed a hand over her heart. “Fae’s honor. See ya, Ken.”

“See ya, Jen.”

The walk home was usually the best part of Kendal’s day. He’d analyze whatever happened, and the stroll would go slow and easy. Now, the tangle of thoughts was so gnarled that he took the whole walk back and then some to settle.

He was glad the day was over. But try as he may, he knew the events of the past hours wouldn’t be easy to forget. The memory would carry on between the two, no, three, of them, bound by the secret of the gem. He could only wonder at what could happen next.