The cardinal? I blinked, thinking that I had misheard the man, thinking that even if I didn't, I could wake up from whatever dream—no, nightmare—I was stuck in. But the man's uncanny gaze remained fixed on my shoulder where Camila paced frantically, her talons stabbing at my flesh, as if she knew what the man had said.

I glanced at Albert, an incomprehensible expression on his face as he was deep in thought. Unfortunately, the man seeing Albert's lack of words made the decision easier for him.

"A hundred and ten gold," He said like it was simply a dull copper instead of a mountain of glimmering coins that would make even the most warmhearted kill to get a stab at the fortune.

"Well, is there anything else I could offer?" Albet struggled to speak, a fierce battle in his mind between his steadfast conscience and alluring greed that crawled seductively over his body.

He shook his head, a sly smile concealed by an attempt for sympathy. "Nothing I can see catches my eye, unless you have something up your sleeve?"

"Ah, well—"

"A hundred and fifty. Last offer," The man said.

"Don't," I whispered, my heart racing as I studied Albert, who was biting his lip and glancing nervously at Camila. It should be an easy choice, right? I thought, hoping that he wouldn't throw her away like a piece of scrap, albeit for a hefty sum.

It seemed as if his conscience had gotten an edge as he clenched his fists, his face wrinkling like he had just sucked a lemon dry, but he blinked when Matilda spoke up.

"I mean the bird—cardinal, sorry—is cool and all, but that much gold? Such a thing's only been seen in books." She had a wistful look on her face, and I imagined her fantasizing about jumping into a pile of coins like leaves the color of roasted peanuts in fall.

"A hundred and fifty is something," Ken said. "But I'll miss her if you decide to uh, swap her in, to put it lightly."

Miss her? Though she had only been on my side for not even a day, I had grown used to the comforting feeling of her talons wrapped around my shoulder and the gentle whir of gears that hummed with my heartbeat. 

Perhaps my emotions were wrapping themselves around my head, but for the first time since Benjamin I felt that I could confide with her about anything. What she lacked in words was her unwavering attention span and her soothing silence that was a nice break from the hectic world. A curious gaze that caught my attention held a feeling that simply couldn't be put into words. Actions do speak truer than words, I thought and chuckled softly.

But the livened atmosphere did not stick around long in the gloomy surroundings.

Something seemed to be stuck in Albert's throat as he tried to talk, but as greed landed her final kiss on his lips, he blurted out, "Deal. A hundred and fifty gold for the cardinal. But I need to see the money first."

"What? You can't do that!" My hand crept up instinctively to my shoulder as if to protect Camila.

Albert averted his gaze and just shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I have to. I can't just pass up a hundred and fifty gold like that, especially when I don't want to risk another encounter."

All the while, the man stood there listening, the corners of his mouth curling up to almost touch the tips of his ears and revealed a set of ivory white teeth. "I knew you'd come to your senses eventually. And about the money..."

With a swift motion, he dug a handful of gold coins stuffed in a scruffy drawer wearing a coat of dust and threw them onto the stand, a chorus of clinks ringing out.

Albert raised an eyebrow at the sight of the gold, only a handful on the table, not the expected mountain. "Not to be rude, but that doesn't seem to be anywhere close to the promised amount."

The man just chuckled and said, "Of course it isn't, this is only proof that I'm not a fraud. You think I'm dumb enough to slap a hundred and fifty gold onto this stand in such places? People'll be robbing me left and right in a blink of an eye."

"Here," He slid open a different drawer, revealing an array of neatly positioned coin pouches, the bulging leather skin like bumpy orange peels as he slid three of them onto the stand. "Fifty gold each, check them if you want."

Albert stepped forward tentatively, unbelieving of the fact that the sheer amount of wealth was in his grasp as he carefully pried open the pouch bound together by a thin drawstring. He gasped and we leaned forward, greeted with the sight of stacks upon stacks of glimmering gold that basked in the sun. Taking a step back, he bounced each one on his palm, the jingle of coins muffled by the leather, and nodded.

"Damnit, this is heavy!" He exclaimed, but the man rapped a finger against the wood, dimming the sliver of light that had peeked through Albert's eyes.

"Enjoying your few moments of bliss?" His icy stare seemed to freeze my eyes into place to return the motion and I could feel the individual hairs on my neck trembling under his chilling aura. The humorous inflection had vanished from his voice as he spoke, a disconcerted testament to the harsh realities of life and the many colors concealed within one's soul. "The cardinal, please."

He drew out the last word as his stare landed on Camila, the amber glow of her eyes reflecting in his polished spectacles.

"Camila!" Albert called, but the little bird didn't budge, the gears whirring in cue with my rapid heartbeat.

He tried again, a harsher tone coating his voice and she reluctantly flapped over to the stand and perched on the edge of the wood.

"No!" I lunged forward to grab hold of her, only to meet Ken's arms in midair. "Albert, don't you realize he's conning you?"

"Now there, that's quite a bold claim," The man said. "You do realize that I have three bags of fifty gold each sitting in front of me, right? If anything, I'm the one being conned! But, I'm a generous man who has built his career on the stepping stones of hard work and sweat, and I know exactly what it's like to be a bit short of money."

That bastard, twisting his words so that I seemed to be the illogical one.

"Hard work, huh? Where has that gotten me now..." Albert muttered as he stashed the pouches on the inside pockets of his coat—carrying them outside would be a murder waiting to happen.

"Albert, you made her, didn't you?" I stammered, searching for a hint of sympathy in his eyes only that he looked away before I could get a better glimpse. "Y-you can't just throw away something you poured your soul into. No amount of money can buy such a thing."

Albert responded only with silence for a few moments, a thick nerve clearly struck as he looked me straight in the eye, an inconceivable sadness hidden behind the murky depths. "No amount of money can bring my dead body back from hell."

"Let's go, then," He trudged off, Matilda and Ken trailing behind him and I succumbed after a moment, my gaze lingering on Camila before the man tucked her into the abyss of the drawer. Her panicked eyes seemed to call out to me, brief flashes that burned with a fearful intensity, but her head dipped under the stand and I turned away.

Albert had left a few pounds heavier, the coins jingling faintly in his pockets as he headed down the street, but each step I took was an unfamiliar step without her. A burden had not been lifted from my shoulders, quite the opposite, and my heart seemed heavier and heavier.

"Hey," Albert whispered. "If you want, I can make another one. I do have plenty of extra gold to spend."

Another one? I shook my head. "It won't be the same."

To think that Camila could be replaced so easily would be ridiculing her sole existence, that she could easily be replicated down to the individual screw so that I wouldn't even notice if she was an imposter. But perhaps her sentience was just an illusion my brain had convinced itself of—an illusion; that's what I wished I was in.

"Don't feel too bad," Matilda said. "She's really just a couple of metal plates and feathers slapped together."

I wanted to shout at her that she was wrong, so utterly wrong that every single word in that sentence was a lie. But she was right, though I tried to hide the sinking feeling from my gut. I really just wanted someone to lean on, someone that would understand me even when I was spitting nonsense. Someone that saw past the killer I was.

I thought I could hold onto that feeling of calming silence and the unspoken bond that had begun to form its roots between us—only that the tender sprout had been yanked out of the soil, away from the damp dirt that hugged it to sleep.

I liked Ken, Matilda even but people are complicated, like a mechanical clock that goes round and round, its gears and weights moving in ethereal ways hidden behind the unsuspecting face of the clock. Only that behind the faces of people are emotional gears and moral weights that bind their thoughts, unable to pried open like a clock.

But Camila? She was simple. Not in the sense of her intricate workings, but that she only spoke her deepest thoughts through actions, a faithful reflection of what was behind those curious amber eyes.

But where was she now? In the hands of a shrewd puppeteer whose fingers were as slick as a magician whisking away coins in plain sight and topped with a tongue of a fox that spoke lies, lies, and more lies. And just when I thought that losing emblem had been the last of our problems...