Kezrin continues her writing.
Fortunately for us, we didn't live on Kezan or any of the places that got demolished. Brasswright's a bit smaller and farther out. Unfortunately, a lot of Pop's suppliers did.
The costs of everything was going up. Pop was extra busy managing the company and trying to cut costs wherever he could. Our tutors got dismissed, almost all the household staff went away. Everyone was tense, though it did have one upside: Ma stopped holding her socials.
Even after the initial wave of destruction, things continued to go downhill. Investors were starting to withdraw their support. Several of our shipments went missing. It was accident after accident.
I was silly enough one day to ask Pop if there was anything I could do to help. I wasn't completely incompetent, after all. He went silent for a few minutes, and then asked if I would be willing to go on his next business trip with him.
"Cheaper than keeping my current secretary," he said.
The trip was to renegotiate prices with one of our vendors. Pop gave me firm instructions just to stay in the background, be quiet, and take notes. For the first couple of days, everything went well, but then the Waxworths arrived.
Pop hated Gilbin Waxworth. They'd been rivals since forever. He was scowling when he heard that the Waxworth CEO was in town. However, it wasn't Gilbin. It was his son, Nozzel Waxworth and his advisor. Gilbin had become ill just before the Cataclysm, so Nozzel was now in charge.
He immediately greeted my father like a lost friend. "We need to stick together in rough times," he said. He was gracious and polite, with an easy smile that almost made up for the ridiculousness of his extra-large nose. As he shook my father's hand, patted him on shoulder, I could hear my mother's voice echoing in my head.
"Lean in close. Use light contact. Compliment them."
Nozzel frowned and looked at me for the first time; I threw my hands over my mouth before I could blurt anything else out. My father was scowling as deeply as I'd ever seen.
"Well," Nozzel said slowly. "This must be your daughter... Ah, you're right! Kezrin!"
I numbly nodded.
"You're very perceptive!" he laughed at me and held out his hand. I hesitantly took it.
Both of his hands held mine, pulling me in slightly close with a conspiratorial stage whisper. "I appreciate a woman bright enough to know a master at work, even if she's calling me out on my secrets!" He grinned. So very close, I could see that the smile didn't quite seem right, and yet... it was the first time I hadn't been yelled at for saying something wrong.
"Lovely girl, you've got, Goldwick!"
"T-thank you... I think?" I looked at Pop, but his glare had been replaced by something akin to relief. Before I knew what was happening, Pop and Nozzel were making plans for a business lunch the next day. Pop, Nozzel, Me, and...
Bother. I know there was someone else. It's part of the curse. I can remember the meeting, and it's a if there's the occasional line of dialogue simply missing. Almost there in my head, but I can't reach it. I know the next day, Nozzel apologized for his friend not showing up, after all, and-
That's right. I know who it was. That day was the first time I met the Cane Guy.
The warlock who cursed my life.
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