“Hi,” Mr. Carson said. “How may I help you today?”

“Thank God.” I rushed forward to the counter, leaned against it. “I didn't know where else to turn. I went to your other store an—”

Mr. Carson cocked an eyebrow at me and interrupted. “Other store?”

“Yeah,” I said. “The other store. The…” I looked around me, looked around the store, seeing if there were any other customers. There weren't, but I lowered my voice anyways. “The magick store.”

Mr. Carson stared at me blankly. “I don't own a magick store. I don't sell tricks. I sell antiques.”

Any bit of relief I'd felt upon seeing Mr. Carson vanished.

“But,” I said in a quiet voice. “But you’re part of the magick world. I know you are. We talked about Bristlebloom? About my classes and being a vanisher?”

Mr. Carson continue to stare at me blankly. “Are you okay?”

I took a deep breath, let it out. Took in another, let it out. Took a third and let it out.

“Careful,” Silvy purred from my shoulder. “I’d surely hate for you to hyperventilate in here. All these breakable objects. It sure would be terrible if you started bumping into them, knocking them over like you were some overgrown Godzilla. On second thought, I take what I just said back. Go ahead. You need more oxygen. Breathe a little faster.”

Silvy started doing Lamaze breathing on my shoulder, egging me on, but I was solely focused on Mr. Carson.

“Come on,” I said. “Quit joking with me. You knew my father. You knew my father was part of the magick world, as are you.”

Mr. Carson shook his head. “Yes, I knew your father but… but I'm not sure what you're talking about. As far as I know, your father wasn't a magician. Did somebody tell you that he was?”

“No. No, it's not that at all. It—”

“Do you need me to call someone?” Mr. Carson asked. “Maybe you have a friend who can pick you up. Someone… sober?”

The way he said this last word, the way he asked it, made everything crystallize. I didn't know if this was an act or if, like the disappearance of the chalk clock in the alleyway, this was the magick world's doing.

What if all memory of me knowing about the magick world disappeared from his mind?

My eyes narrowed. “Why are your hours here so weird?”

Mr. Carson quirked an eyebrow at me. “I'm a small business owner. I set my own hours. My reasoning is none of your business.”

“Maybe,” I said, “or maybe this is just the time you spend with your… collection.”

“Oh,” Silvy purred, slithering around my neck. “Oh, I like where this is going.”

I picked up an opaque, glass vase. Something that looked incredibly old.

“Be careful with that,” he said. “It's Depression glass. There's not—”

I let go of it and watched as the vase fell towards the floor, watched as his fingers quickly traced a shape in the air, watched as green light flickered below the vase and caught it. And just as quickly as it appeared, the light disappeared after setting the vase down on the floor between my feet, upright.

I lifted my foot then, not giving him a chance to react, and I put that foot right back down atop the vase. I could shift my foot to the left or the right, pushing it down to the ground and stomping on it, and I didn't think he'd be quick enough to save it this time.

He stared down at the vase then back at me. His eyelids drooped the tiniest amount and he looked at me as though he truly saw me, truly understood what I was willing to do and how far I would go.

I have nothing to lose.

“There's a back room,” he said in a low voice. “Go there. Now.”

I bent down to pick up the vase, to hand it back to him, but he snapped his fingers.

“Don't touch that,” he snapped. “Just go to the back room.”

I headed back, glancing over my shoulder to see him move to the front door, lock up, and then flip the open sign over to the closed side.

A tiny stream of fear opened within me.

I’d been so focused on finding Mr. Carson and confronting him that I had been completely blinded to the fact that I was facing down a magick user who’d just locked me into a store with him.

Grey Eyes’ words came back to me. Killing a stick isn’t a crime.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

“I don't know,” Silvy said from around my neck. “I give it like a four out of ten. When you dropped the vase, I was all in. I thought it was a great first step, but then you didn't follow through and break it. You didn’t let him know you were serious. Further, you didn't even bother to break anything else. Did you see that lampshade? Imagine how amazing it would've been if you would've smashed it right over his head. Can you? His head would've popped right through the thing like a Jack-in-the-Box. I don't even—”

“Shut up, Silvy.”

I made my way to the back room and took a seat at a tiny table. I could see all the way to the front of the store and watched as Mr. Carson pulled down the blinds.

“Oh,” Silvy said, almost as if she was commenting on the weather. “He's about to do something he doesn't want anyone to see. I hope it’s something bloody.”

I'd been thinking the same thing, minus the hoping part. A drop of sweat trickled down my spine even though I was freezing cold.

Mr. Carson walked from the front of his shop to the back and closed the door behind him as he entered the tiny room. He took a seat at the table opposite me.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he put his pointer finger to his lips. After a moment of hesitation, he slipped his hand into his pocket and removed a witchstone. He placed the witchstone in his mouth and his fingers traced symbols in the air. Green light shot out around us. It crystallized into a sort of dome that stretched from the floor to the ceiling of the room.

I looked down and saw the green light covered the floor as well. We were completely enclosed in a magickal shell.

Is this what being inside of a shadow bubble is like?

“The Austerium has ears everywhere,” Mr. Carson said, interlacing his fingers and leaning back in his chair. “Now tell me why you came to my shop.” I could see the anger in his eyes now, could read it on his face. “Tell me why you would risk bringing the Austerium's wrath down on me.”

“Wow,” Silvy said. “That amped up to eleven.”

“I didn't realize the Austerium had that sort of power,” I tried to explain. “I didn't realize they were so threatening.”

“There's a lot you don't realize,” Mr. Carson said. “About the magick world, about the Austerium.”

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “I guess there's going to end up being a whole lot I don't ever find out as well.”

Mr. Carson nodded. “I heard. I was warned.”

“Warned?”

“By the Austerium. I was told that you might come by, that you might attempt to re-integrate, with the magick world through me.”

“That's not what I was trying to do.”

Mr. Carson shrugged. “You think the Austerium cares? It all looks the same to them.”

“Well, I just…”

“You just what?” Mr. Carson snapped. “You just thought if you got kicked out of the magick world, you could come crawling to me and I would fix everything?”

“No,” I said.

It’s not like that at all. It’s nothing like that. Where did he even get that from?

“Then what, Hexana?”

“I… I don’t know where to start.” The entire thing was so confusing. “I don't know what happened.”

Mr. Carson crossed his arms. “You better not try to scam me.”

I let out an ugly laugh. “Fucking Geist.”

“Geist?” Mr. Carson asked. “What does Geist have to do with this?”

“He set me up.”

“Wait. Geist's the one who got you the job? Geist's the one who sent you to me with those witchstones?”

“Yeah. Who else?”

“Who else?” Mr. Carson shook his head, unbelieving. “Just about anyone, Hexana. Just about anyone.”

“I don't follow.”

“You do realize that Geist and your father were mortal enemies, right?”

“No. Why would I have known that? No one warned me.”

“Lebec didn't warn you?”

“No, he didn't tell me anything.”

Mr. Carson sighed, rubbing his head. “Well, that's different.”

“What do you mean?”

“Geist and your father were rivals. Business rivals. Geist wanted Blackhart for himself. He tried to buy it out from under your father multiple times. I didn't realize you were working for him. I didn't realize Geist had gotten a procurement job with the Austerium. I thought my order of witchstones was just coming in from the Austerium in general, not from Geist specifically within the Austerium.”

I had no idea what he was talking about.

“You realize,” Mr. Carson said, “that Geist probably had something to do with your father's disappearance?”

My mouth went dry.

“That’s a development,” Silvy purred.

The possibility that I'd helped the person who was responsible for taking my childhood away from chilled me more than I already was. The fact that I could've so blindly lent a helping hand to that man made me sick.

“No.” I cleared my throat. “No, I didn't realize that. I didn't know. I had no idea.”

“And Lebec didn't tell you…” Mr. Carson shook his head.

“No,” I said. “He didn't.”

Mr. Carson snorted. “I never took Lebec as a Geist supporter, but maybe I'll have to now.”

“Geist supporter?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Geist has been making a play at ascending to the title of Lord Wizard of Nidema for years now. Maybe decades. Your father was the one who was standing against him. Your father was next in line.”

“What?”

“At least he was before he disappeared.”

“To be Lord Wizard of Nidema, wouldn't you have to be a wizard? My father wasn’t a wizard.”

“And why do you think the Lord Wizard of Nidema is the sole owner of the Builder’s Stone. What you think it's for?”

Of course. With the Builder’s Stone, anyone could become the Lord Wizard. I could see a long line of Lord Wizards growing old with age and passing down the Builder’s Stone to the next in line, allowing for anyone to be Lord Wizard. A caster, an adept, a scryer. Anyone.

I swallowed. Even a stick could be a Lord Wizard.

“So why would Geist want to own Blackhart?” I asked.

“All of your father's things were there. All of his records. He was trying to bring Geist down. He believed Geist was in communication with someone outside this plaine. He believed Geist was working to bring down Nidema from the inside.”

My mind suddenly flashed to the culling, to all those blood casters and wizards who'd been eradicated.

Maybe Geist is working with them. Maybe that's why the red lume flashed at the destruction sites. Maybe it was a call to action, a light in the darkness to bring forth the other blood casters in unification.

“I didn't see this coming,” Silvy whispered from my shoulder.

“I didn't either,” I mumbled.

“What?” Mr. Carson asked.

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

“Listen,” Mr. Carson said. His voice held less of a hard edge. “I understand that you're hurting, that you've just been shown a brand-new world and just as soon shown out of that world, but you need to forget about it. You need to let it go.”

Silvy snorted. “I mean, we could also kill Geist. That's an option. You should've let me taste his blood when I asked. Corrupt blood is the best. I was right there too, you could have—”

I needed to go.

“Thank you,” I said to Mr. Carson. “I appreciate you being honest with me.”

Mr. Carson stood, waved his hands, and the green bubble of light dissipated into nothingness.

“Don't come back, Hexana,” he said in a soft voice tinged with sadness. “Don't ever come back.”

I nodded and he escorted me out of his shop. I stood still just outside the door, the rain pouring down on my head.

I had several things to consider.

Shivering, I started walking towards my apartment.

I had a decision to make.