Chapter 15

Nanora yawned as she trundled into work in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Both were creations of her magic that bore her soul-colors of white and gold, just like her witch’s uniform. Even her attempts to recreate blue jeans were mostly off-white with just a hint of bluish tint. Too bad I can’t afford to shop at the local stores. Oh well; at least I can make my own. Not everyone is so lucky. The locals were always complimentary of her magically made clothes, especially that one larger fellow with the gigantic cutie of a dog. What a nice man, even if he can be a little insistent.

Vorbeck’s Tomes and Curios was a combination antique and used book shop at the fringes of the tourist district. Most of the space was filled with rows of bookshelves that went up to the ceiling. The stock ranged from contemporary works to rare first editions from another century, but the shelves themselves were all uniform and kept meticulously clean, even before she had taken the job.

The front of the shop was much more her speed, but also a tad disappointing. There was a locked glass shelf full of knickknacks from around the world that looked like they ought to have been magical. Some of them looked awfully close to tools and idols she had seen back home. However, Nanora had tested them herself, and they were simply mundane crystals or carvings of wood or bone. Completely useless. Probably why we don’t get many customers for those shoddy wares.

Nanora slapped her own face. “No! He gave you a job! Don’t be such an ingrate!” Plus, there were other advantages. The foot traffic was minimal on Sundays; after her brush with the law and her failure to rescue that poor Ascended Blackfish, she had barely slept a wink. The store’s clientele tended to be a bit fussy, and she simply lacked the energy to contend with them.

She glanced down at her blackened griffon charm and fumed all over again. “And I know that awful poacher Vince slept like an infant! Monsters like him have no conscience!”

“What was that, Ms. Sinclair?” came a voice from behind a bookshelf.

It took Nanora a moment to remember her fake name. “Nothing, Mr. Vorbeck.”

“Please,” he replied, carrying a stack of yellowed books, “I keep telling you to call me Gottfried!”

She smiled at her employer, automatically taking half of his stack, allowing her to look the wiry man in the eyes. “And I told you to call me Nora.”

Nanora would never, ever say it out loud, but Vorbeck’s sharp features, balding head, and long, thin nose made her think of a vulture. His habit of wearing black turtlenecks certainly helped the association. However, it would be rude, for one thing, and he had been kind enough to hire her under the table for something close to minimum wage. Since the Grand Coven back home had not seen fit to provide her with a stipend, the job was all she had.

I’m sure there’s a good reason for them to deny me aid. Besides, it gives me a chance to connect with the locals and learn about this side of the Veil. The books in the shop were often out of date, but she at least had learned something about this mundane world. For instance, she had pieced together that Mr. Vorbeck was from somewhere called Germany. He certainly had a different accent than most of the other locals, giving even his friendly declarations a hard edge. Sometimes she wanted to ask him about his faraway home, but that would only invite questions about hers in turn, and she knew she was too ignorant of this world to come up with something believable.

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So, she kept the conversation off anything important. “The weather has been simply wonderful lately.”

“I don’t know about that, Nora,” he replied. “We had that cloudburst yesterday. Would’ve ruined the new shipment if you hadn’t gotten that umbrella out of nowhere. Lucky you had it on you.”

“Lucky, yes,” she said, remembering how she had used her magic to summon a brilliant golden parasol. I wish I could simply tell him, but if I cannot trust the constabulary, even Mr. Gottfried might take the truth poorly. At the very best, he would be terrified. “Getting a little wet was worth it to help you out.”

“I knew there was something special about you,” Gottfried continued. “You’re a diligent one; you don’t see that too often these days. Most of the kids are always glue to their phones, but never you. Oh, put them over here.”

Nanora puffed out her chest at the compliment as she set her stack aside. “Thank you, Mr. Gottfried. Is there anything special that needs done?”

He shook his head. “I still need to grade the new shipment we got yesterday, so you’ll be manning the front alone. I hope you’re up for it.”

She nodded. “Of course, Mr. Gottfried. You can count on me.”

What an unfortunate man; his features always made a perfectly fine smile look a little off. “Splendid. Remember, the door will be locked, so knock if you need me.”

“I know the routine.” She did wonder sometimes why he never let her in the back, but this was another stroke of luck. As guilty as she might feel, it would give her a chance to neglect her shop duties and focus on tracking down that Vince Meyer and his hostage.

Nanora spent some time writing out notes in Old-Script Avalasan to organize her thoughts before her conscience got the better of her. “No, Mr. Gottfried is paying me to keep his shop clean.” She glanced back at the door again. “He’s always a few hours on inventory day…”

It’s for his protection. It was safer if he was in the dark about her true nature. Once she had moved a chair to block the back door, she flipped through her charms before settling on the smallest of the set. Ureq won’t need too large of a rift to come through, so he should not disrupt the electronics too badly.

The creature that emerged from the swirling rift in the Veil was about the size of a small cat, though that was where its similarities with a feline ended. Its arms ended in rough skin and claws that were well suited for climbing, aided by a prehensile tail perfect for wrapping around tree branches. Ureq looked up at her with two wide, yellow eyes on either side of his triangular, almost birdlike head. His green, scaly skin marked him out as a reptile, the ideal drepanike. The mounted tablet that served as the cash register rebooted itself, and the lights flickered back on after a moment. Nanora breathed a sigh of relief; the effect was always a bit unpredictable.

Ureq’s scaly hide was not soft, but Nanora still gave him a loving scratch above his shoulder. Fair’s fair, since I always give the others a pet. “Ureq, are you ready to earn our keep? Please go up and dust those bookshelves.”

He tilted his head at Nanora, but he accepted the feather duster with his grasping tail without complaint. This was not the first time he had tidied the shop, after all.

She gave the reptile another loving pat on the side. “Thank you, Ureq!”

Ureq gave no response as he clambered up the rolling ladder of the nearest shelf; drepanikes were not a social species by nature. Spending their days digging for insects under the bark of trees gave them no cause for it. A magical construct wearing the form of one had even less use for her affection. Only the magic of her summoning charm let him understand her orders, or to care about them for that matter. Still, he did the work diligently.

With that task dealt with, Nanora pulled the discarded hunting knife from her backpack. A quick scan showed it still buzzed with magic. Unfortunately, it was the wrong signal to triangulate it back to its owner. “It must be leftovers from poor Tanos getting skewered! I swear, you will not evade me again!”

Nanora was cut off by the sounds of footsteps on the shop’s wooden porch. “Oh no!” She quickly stowed the knife away, but she needn’t have worried; a young couple walked past the window, but they were clearly passing through.

She nearly went back to her work when her groggy mind realized she had seen a familiar flash of white in the woman’s dark hair.

All thoughts of hiding Ureq were discarded in an instant, and she nearly went sprawling as she tripped on the new pile of new merchandise. She gave no thought to it. She did not dare transform into her combat attire; Mr. Vorbeck would never understand. It would have to be Nora Sinclair who got the blackfish away from her captor, not the Ivory Witch.