6. Chapter Six #2
She studies me for a moment longer, then nods as if I’ve said something profound. “The new stock is in the case by the window. The rare specimens are in the locked cabinet behind the counter.”
I back away from the heater, my bones shivering as I approach the display she indicated.
Inside, crystals of various sizes and colors rest on black velvet, each with a small card detailing its name and origin.
My fingers trace the edge of the glass as I lean closer, examining a piece of labradorite with a vibrant blue flash.
“That one speaks to you.” I jolt, unaware the woman moved silently to stand beside me. Fucking creepy.
I yank my hand back out of instinct “It’s pretty.”
“It’s more than pretty.” She reaches into the case with a small key and lifts out the stone, offering it to me.
“Labradorite. Guardian against negative energies. Stabilizes the aura, and provides clarity during times of change.”
I hesitate for a moment before holding the crystal, the weight solid and cool in my palm. The flash catches the light as I spin it, shifting from deep blue to teal to gold depending on the angle.
The woman’s eyes narrow. “You’re troubled. I see it in the way you hold yourself. And your eyes. Eyes are the windows to one’s soul.”
My jaw tightens. I’m not in the mood to be psychoanalyzed by a stranger selling crystals—I pay my therapist enough for that. Not that I listen. “Thanks for the insight.”
My sarcasm slides right over her as she nods. “You need more than this.” She spins, indicating another display case. “Come.”
Against my better judgment, I follow, still holding the labradorite. She unlocks the second case and removes three stones, laying them on a piece of black velvet that rests alone on the counter.
“Obsidian.” She points to a jagged piece.
“For protection against entities that wish to influence you. Selenite—” she indicates a clear, striated crystal “—to cleanse your space and reinforce boundaries. And this—” the final stone is deep purple, almost black in the dim light “—black amethyst. For connecting to higher guidance while remaining grounded in your own truth.”
Something cold burrows under my skin. “Entities?”
She meets my gaze then, her eyes dark and knowing in her weathered face. “Some are drawn to those who are…receptive. Open. Whether by nature or by circumstance is irrelevant. You have the look of someone who’s been seen.”
My throat constricts around a thick mass, heart rate accelerating. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No?” She lifts the obsidian sphere, rolling it between her palms. “Then why did you stop on the sidewalk outside? Who were you looking at in the empty space?”
The labradorite slips from my suddenly numb fingers, but she catches it with surprising quickness before it hits the floor. I shuffle back a few steps. Was she watching me?
“I’ve been in this shop for forty years,” she starts, her lips pursing. “I miss nothing, especially when nothing is outside my shop.”
My mind races. Did she see him too? Or did she just see me, standing in the snow, staring at nothing? Either possibility sends insects crawling over my skin.
“I’m not…I—” My head shakes, unable to finish the thought. Not what? Crazy? Haunted? Not important enough for anyone, living or dead, to take notice of?
“These will help,” she says with calm finality, gathering all four crystals and placing them in a small velvet pouch. She adds a fifth stone, this one raw and unpolished, its color a deep, rusty red. “Carnelian for courage. You’ll need it.”
I should be offended. This woman I’ve never met before has essentially called me unstable, suggested I’m being haunted, and implied I lack courage. But I cannot find it in me to be angry.
Besides, she’s not entirely wrong, is she?
“How much?” I ask, reaching for my wallet. I don’t care that I have a couple of those already; clearly, I need more.
She names a price lower than I expect, given the size and quality of the stones. I don’t argue, handing over my card in silence. As she processes the payment, I become acutely aware of the weight of the pouch in my hand.
Will they help? Doubtful. Crystals are just minerals, formed through geological processes over millions of years. They don’t have magical properties or healing powers. They’re just pretty rocks that people assign meaning to because humans are desperate to believe in something.
But the labradorite felt good in my hand. Real. And right now, reality is a concept I’m struggling to maintain a grip on.
“Thank you,” I say as she offers the receipt, my voice sounding distant to my own ears.
“Take care on your way home,” she responds, her expression softening. “And keep in mind—not everything unseen is harmful. But not everything beautiful is safe, either.”
The words follow me from the shop, lingering in my mind as I step back into the storm.
The snow has intensified during the short time I spent inside, now falling in thick curtains that reduce visibility to just a few feet ahead.
Fuck, can’t it just stop until I’m back at the apartment? This is certifiable torture.
And just another reason I despise going places.
My gaze darts constantly from side to side, searching the white-out conditions for a tall figure in black. Each intersection I cross, each alleyway I pass, I expect to spot him again. My eyes strain, but the streets remain free of ghostly figures.
By the time I reach my apartment building, disappointment has settled heavy in my chest. My fingers are numb as I fumble with the keys, dropping them twice before managing to unlock the door. The lobby welcomes me with a blast of heated air that makes my frozen face sting as it thaws.
It’s unfortunate that this area is warmer than my apartment. Especially as I’m on the top floor…isn’t heat supposed to rise or something? I should be the toastiest person in the building.
I drag myself up the six flights of stairs, each step heavier than the last. Inside my door, the space feels smaller than usual as the walls press in around me. My gaze is drawn to the jar.
“Where are you?” I whisper to the empty apartment. I want to talk to him. Question his presence outside my head. Nothing happens, though. I’m alone.
But for the first time in my life, that solitude feels wrong, the emptiness of it aching like a phantom pain.
As I categorize my new crystals, the words of a woman crazier than me repeat over and over.
Not everything unseen is harmful. But not everything beautiful is safe, either.
After I’m finished, a curious calm settles over me. Whether from the crystals or simply the act of creating order from chaos, I can’t say. Perhaps it doesn’t matter.
I step away from the table and wonder if they’ll be enough to keep him away.
Or if, in my secret heart, I’m hoping they won’t.