Chapter Nine
Word about the magic broom had already spread, which was more than I’d even dared to hope.
When I arrived to open Monday morning, a customer stood waiting in front of the shoppe, something I’d never witnessed in all my years working.
She asked if I had any more “flying sweeping contraptions,” which immediately got the wheels in my head turning.
There was power in a name, after all. I glanced at the window, where the words EDWARD STOKES’S CABINET OF MAGICAL CURIOSITIES stared back at me.
Maybe I needed to start rethinking some things around here.
“No more, I’m afraid,” I told the woman as I unlocked the door. My eyes traveled to the wolpertinger. Had it moved since yesterday, or was my mind playing tricks on me?
“Have you got anything else, then?” the woman asked. I’d never seen her before, but she was dressed like a local, her plaid neatly folded and draped over her shoulders. She pointed to an old pram that held a creepy doll my father claimed could tell fortunes. “The perambulator. Does it fly, too?”
I had to turn away to hide my grin. One silly broom and suddenly people had faith in this place?
I couldn’t undo what Bri had done for me and sell an item that didn’t work.
I simply had to get my hands on more magical items. And since I couldn’t very well travel to the Sapphire Isles this minute, there was only one other option.
It was a dangerous one, particularly given everything I’d learned the other night.
I’d spent hours tossing and turning, trying to come up with a plan that didn’t involve exploiting Bri.
I knew I should tell her what I’d heard about The Oxblood Book.
She had helped me, and I’d promised to help her in return.
But if this Wexley fellow did have it in his possession, and Bri found it …
She’d leave, was what she’d do. She’d be back on a ship to Carterra so fast it would be as though we’d never met at all.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want her to be happy.
But rent would be due again in a month, and my only assets were a home I would never risk losing and all the items in this shoppe.
If three of those items were magical, there had to be more.
I couldn’t let Bri go until I knew for sure.
In the meantime, I could do my own snooping into this trader and The Oxblood Book instead of getting her hopes up for nothing. I’d be doing her a favor, really.
“I hate to inconvenience you, but would you possibly consider returning tomorrow?” I asked the woman, batting my lashes in what I hoped was a fair imitation of a scrupulous and trustworthy saleswoman.
She shifted a bit on her feet. “I have important things to do, young lady.”
“’Course you do. But I’m expecting some new arrivals this afternoon, and I wouldn’t want to sell you something second-rate today when I can sell you something truly spectacular tomorrow.” I flashed a smile and forced myself not to blink. Finlay had once told me I blinked when I lied.
“Is there something wrong with your eyes?” the woman asked.
I blinked, deliberate and slow and definitely unscrupulous. “Not at all.”
She twisted her mouth, considering. “You promise you won’t sell that perambulator before I return?”
I placed my hand on my chest. “Cross my heart.”
“All right. I’ll come back tomorrow.”
“You’re a dear. See you then!”
When the woman was gone, I turned back to my shoppe, seeing it with fresh eyes.
Not only the pram and the creepy doll, the talismans and tapestries, but the bone wind chimes that hung from the ceiling (genuine harpy, per my father) and the unicorn horn I was fairly certain came from a narwhal but nevertheless might truly be able to cure impotence (at least for one memorable night).
There was a world of endless possibilities here.
I simply needed a wee bit of help to bring my vision to life.
And lucky for me, I knew exactly where to find it.
It was raining by the time I reached Anatolia’s Antiquarian Bookshoppe, which was hardly surprising for an Ardmuir autumn, though it did have a slight dampening effect on my mood. In all my excitement, I’d neglected to bring my umbrella.
“No brolly?” Anatolia asked when I entered, cursing at the wet leaves clinging to my boots. “All drookit, aren’t— Oh, Willow. It’s you.” Her face fell noticeably at the realization. “What brings you in today?”
I practiced my newly minted smile on her, glancing around the shoppe.
I hadn’t been here in ages, but I’d always liked it.
It was cozy and warm, and the shelves were neatly lined with books of all shapes and sizes.
Unlike my shoppe, there wasn’t a speck of dust visible, nor spiders spinning lazy cobwebs in the corners.
Ana’s old collie, Duncan, lay curled up on a blanket, his feet twitching in his sleep.
Ana was an exemplary small business owner.
“I was hoping to speak with your new shoppe girl, Brianna. Is she here?”
Materializing from the gloomy back of the shoppe as if I’d summoned her, Bri rolled her eyes the moment she caught sight of me. “What do you want, Willow?”
“Come now, Bri. Is that any way to greet your best friend?” I asked.
Anatolia, a middle-aged woman as straight and narrow as a book’s spine, blinked at me behind her bifocals. “Best friend?”
“She’s exaggerating,” Bri said. “We’re barely even acquaintances.”
That stung in an unexpected way. We were certainly more than acquaintances. “I only need a few minutes of your time,” I replied, planting my feet in a way that suggested she wouldn’t get rid of me.
“It’s time for your break, anyway,” Anatolia said to Bri. “Fifteen minutes, as usual.”
Bri sighed and nodded. “Let me grab my cloak.”
She shooed me back outside into the rain, escorting me under the striped awning over the bakery, where we could stand without getting soaked. Alas, it was far too late for me. I was wet down to my knickers.
“What do you want, Willow? I did what you asked. Our deal is finished.”
“Not yet, it isn’t. We still haven’t found your grimoire.”
She turned to stare into the bakery window.
Buttery yellow shortbread, raisin-studded Dundee cake, and freshly baked scones sat in neat little rows behind the glass counter.
The smell of yeasty bread and warm chocolate wafted out the door as a patron exited.
Da had bought me tea biscuits here when I was young, but I hadn’t eaten one in years.
“I’m letting you out of the deal, Willow.
I think it’s better if I continue to search for the grimoire on my own. ”
“Nonsense,” I said cheerfully, though inside I felt a rising well of panic. “We’ve only just started. I think I have a lead on another—”
“Enough, Willow. I really don’t have the time or energy to waste on another wild goose chase.”
“Or the money,” I added. I hadn’t planned to tip my hand quite so quickly, but I also hadn’t expected her to call off our bargain before I even told her why I’d come. “But if you come and live with me, you’ll be able to afford to search properly for your grimoire.”
Bri turned away from the baked goods. “Live. With you.”
“I live all alone, Bri. I have a spare bedroom that’s being entirely wasted and a kitten who would be thrilled to have another human around to scratch behind his ears.”
“You wouldn’t charge me rent? I don’t understand what you stand to gain by this.” I watched as Bri’s face settled into understanding, her brow smoothing, her lips narrowing into a thin line. “Oh. I see.”
My stomach twisted. Was I really so transparent?
“Listen, I’ve already got more customers, thanks to you.
The broom plan worked splendidly. But I can’t go on without more magical objects to sell.
I really think if we’re smart about this, we could stand to make money.
A lot of money. The kind of money that can help finance what could be a very expensive grimoire search.
You said yourself you’re running out of money, and time. ”
She started to release one of her signature heavy sighs. I was losing her.
“Think about it!” I hurried on. “You could pay off your hotel bill before things get dire. I know better than anyone what happens in this town if you don’t pay your debts. No one is going to help you once you’re out of money.”
“I pay my debts.”
“Of course you do!” I said, knowing my expression was likely reading somewhere between unbridled optimism and severe constipation.
But I was desperate, and I would say almost anything to convince Bri to help me.
“But you’re an…” I lowered my voice ominously, pretending that the people walking by were suspicious of Bri, when I knew full well it was me they were eyeing with pity.
“You’re an outlander. If someone like me, a beloved daughter of the community, can be shunned, what chance do you stand? ”
Bri started to reach a hand to her mouth to chew on a cuticle but stopped herself.
“Listen, I’m not refusing to help to be spiteful.
If there were no consequences to touching magical objects, I’d do it all the time.
But there are consequences. Serious ones.
Not only for me. You could get hurt, Willow. Or worse.”
She wasn’t wrong. Now that I knew magical witch bones had a price tag, I was taking a risk with both of our safety.
On the other hand … “What do you think will happen to me if I don’t do this?
I’m seventeen and utterly alone. I don’t have a family to fall back on.
The shoppe is all I have. If you won’t help me, you’re guaranteeing my fate, and it won’t be a pretty one.
” I thought of the women who worked near the docks, selling the only commodity they had in order to survive.
Da would spin in his grave if he knew I even considered it an option, but he hadn’t left me with many others.
“Don’t put that on me,” Bri hissed. “I won’t be emotionally blackmailed like that.”
“Fine, you’re right. It’s not on you. But at least give it some serious consideration.”
This time, she did start to chew on a cuticle. “Let’s say I moved in with you. What’s the plan then?”
The knot in my stomach loosened ever so slightly. “We start slowly at the shoppe. A few items a week, until we’re sure it’s not going to cause any problems.”
“What about the time limit?”
I’d considered this on my walk over here. “We’ll be honest with our customers. Let them know that each item has a shelf life. A day of magic is still better than nothing, right?”
“Depends on the item, I suppose.”
“The hand talisman, for example. If you’ve got a hand issue, you only need it fixed once, presumably. We’ll tell people we’d have to charge them much more otherwise. Really, they’re getting a bargain.”
She thought for a minute, still worrying her cuticle with her teeth. “That could work. We’ll need to do an inventory first, to see what we already have in the shoppe.”
I couldn’t fend off my grin. She’d said we. She was coming around to the idea. “We make a good team,” I said, leaning in to bump her with my shoulder.
She sidestepped me at that exact moment, causing me to stumble. I righted myself and straightened my skirt, hoping no one had seen.
“I need to sleep on this. It’s going to take me some time to draft a contract…”
“A contract?” I stared at her. “You truly have that little faith in me? I’m not sure how you do things in Carterra, but in Achnarach, a handshake is binding.”
“It’s a written contract or nothing.” She folded her arms over her chest awkwardly, then unfolded them and placed them on her hips.
I smothered a smirk. “Very well. But you’ll need to present it to me first thing tomorrow morning. I suspect we’re going to have even more customers once the woman who came by this morning starts talking.”
Bri arched an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”
I bit my lip. “I may have told her I had a shipment of new items coming in.”
Bri’s gaze hardened. “You already assumed I’d help you?”
“I wouldn’t call it assuming. More like … wishful thinking?”
She rolled her eyes, something I suspected I’d be seeing a lot more of if she moved in with me. “Just so we’re clear, I know when I’m being manipulated.”
“It can’t really be called manipulation if you’re aware of it, can it?”
She made a noncommittal noise. “I need to get back to the bookshoppe.”
“About that…”
“For crying out loud, Willow. What now?”
I dropped my gaze again. “I think you’d have more free time to search for your grimoire if you quit your job with Ana and worked with me at the shoppe.”
“So now you want us to live and work together? Anything else? Would you like to become my legal guardian while you’re at it?”
I smiled one of my rare, genuine smiles. “Let’s see if you can survive the living and working before I put anything else on the table. You should probably come by the house in the morning with the contract, to make sure it will suit you.”
“I’m assuming it doesn’t come with a full breakfast like the Four Swans?”
I grimaced. “It doesn’t even come with a light breakfast, unless you plan to start cooking it.”
She glanced over my shoulder at the bakery again. “Are you telling me you haven’t eaten yet this morning?”
“I don’t need—”
Before I could finish, she opened the door to the bakery and called over her shoulder, “Come on then. It’s my treat.”
Normally, I wouldn’t have taken charity from someone I was trying to convince I was a respectable, reasonable human being. But my stomach growled audibly at the thought of a fresh-baked cinnamon roll. “Are you sure?”
Bri looked me up and down and sighed. “Not in the slightest.”