Sometimes you fail, and that’s okay. At least the kitchen didn't smell of burnt rice anymore. It wasn't like it hadn't been edible, just smaller than expected after getting rid of the burnt rice. Still, at least I could prove my worth with breakfast. That I could nail without a problem. The bookstore this morning was the same as before so I wasn't too worried. Hopefully, this evening I could Skype with my mom and catch her up on the job. Edited, of course. Mom would probably flip if I told her about the magic stuff. Flip, or decide I was lying about the whole thing and really in some sort of danger. She could be a bit dramatic that way.

The cat appeared on the counter and I paused. "Good morning. Do you want veggies in your eggs or not?"

I wanted a little more instruction this morning for my day.

"Make me the same as yesterday."

Ha, I knew it. He had liked the eggs, he had cleared his little plate. Yet, I said nothing. I just smiled and went on with making breakfast.

"So, today is going to be a busier day. We will have customers for most of the morning."

I paused in scrambling the eggs. You never knew who was going to come into the shop. Each day was random unless you had an event or something. "How do you know what the day is going to bring? Like, I get there is magic and all but..."

"We will need the paint today, the customers are coming to pick it up."

I nodded slowly. Okay, that made more sense. Whoever had ordered the blue magic paint was coming in, that's how he knew what was going to happen. My shoulders relaxed a bit, and I loaded both plates up with eggs, plus some reheated bacon. Bacon every day was going to go to my thighs, but I would not resist. I mean, it was bacon. Resistance would have been futile anyway.

"Anything else I should know?" I asked hesitantly. He was being a little talkative, and I wanted to keep it that way.

"Just a normal day at the shop."

"Okay, sounds good." I sipped the coffee I had made before breakfast. "When are we going to open?" A refill would be nice.

"When we are ready." The cat inhaled the plate of food and for the second time, I wondered where it went. He wasn't a fat cat, but I had given him a ton forgetting that he was only a cat.

I just nodded and finished my breakfast. I wrapped the last of the bacon and put it in the fridge. The cat was already heading to the front counter.

"Do you want me to grab the paint?"

"Yes."

Okay, here we go. I grabbed the paint and left my coffee on the table. "Thanks for cleaning up the kitchen, I am coming back for the coffee." Again, I whispered. I knew it had to be the cat, but still. It felt weird thinking about saying it to him directly.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

The room was different. I knew it as soon as I stepped out of the doorway. The counter was the same but beyond that; the bookshelves were against the walls. No books were on them. Instead, unique pieces of wood were all around the room. They looked like branches that had been cut off of trees. Each leaned up against one of the shelves. I carefully set the clay pot on the counter and noticed the register was gone. The cat was sitting in its place. My eyes widened as I glanced the other way.

"No... nonono...." Where was she? "Where is Betty?" The space was filled with a stack of old rags and jars with pain brushes in them.

"Betty?"

"My espresso machine?!"

"You don't need a cup of coffee that bad."

I turned to the cat, angry for the first time since leaving the shop. He dared tell me how much caffeine I needed? He loved a good cup of coffee as well and I knew he hadn't had one yet. His head jerked backward, and he blinked at me.

"Give me back my machine!" I yelled. How could he not warn me it was going to be unavailable today?

"We don't have time for this," muttered the cat. He seemed tense as he glanced toward the door. Which of course let out a rumble of bells as someone opened it. I spun to give them a fake smile and panicked. I dropped below the counter, my breathing frantic. They were green, had horns, and were giant! Like, their heads touch the doorway, which had probably gotten bigger for them. What were they?

"Sable?" I glanced up, and the cat was peeking over the edge of the counter at me. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head no. Clouds must have crossed over the windows and the skylights darkened momentarily.

"They are trolls, perfectly safe. The paint is for them, well the spears are for them, but the paint as well."

I shook my head again. Trolls were real? More information would have been nice. He jumped off the counter and nudged my hand, which was plastered to the floor. "You need to get up and greet them.” He nudged me again. “You can do this."

I tried to relax my shoulders and my fingers but it was slow going. I could hear footsteps in the shop moving around, but not yet approaching the counter. The cat nudged my fingers again.

"I should have warned you, please get up.” He stared at me. “You are worrying me."

They are just like anyone else, I could do this. They were people. Big, green, horned, not-at-all-normal people. Deep breaths. First, I calmed my breathing and then I carefully stood up. I did not squeak as I realized more of them were in the shop than the one at the door. Five or six of them were looking at branches. As soon as I came into view, one of them approached where the register had been. He was the tallest one of the bunch. His horns curved back from his forehead and they were painted a bright blue. The paint was chipping away in several spots. They were the same color as the paint in the pot, and I glanced down to confirm it. My coffee mug was next to the pot. Steam was rising from it. My eyes flicked to the cat, but he was staring at the troll. The troll bowed his head to the cat and spoke. A necklace rattled against his chest. It was made of different teeth, strung on a cord. My stomach shook, but I ignored it. My hands rushed to my coffee mug, letting the warmth seep into me.

"Our new warriors have come for the spears! They have passed the rites." How the heck did I understand the Troll? There was no way he was speaking in English. The sounds were wrong. Or, well, not normal, but I understood him anyway.

The cat nodded his head. "Vulug, let them find the wood that calls to them. Then once they carve the point, we will use the magic."

The Troll turned to me waiting. I didn't know what to do.