6. Jeffrey

Chapter six

Jeffrey

S ince the tour is closed on Mondays, I'm free to do whatever I want. A few other shops are closed on Mondays, like Tony's, but while The Magic Shop can sometimes have inconsistent hours, it's usually open whenever I happen to go there, and I have the strange urge to head there this morning.

With the card I found in Mattie's bureau.

"If it is all right with you, Jeffrey, I would prefer to not accompany you. Forgive me." Odai bows his head when I offhandedly ask if he wants to tag along. He is wearing a similar outfit as the one he conjured yesterday, but in shades of teal and ivory that compliment his dark coloring almost better than the purple.

"It's fine!" I assure him. "You don't have to follow me around all the time. It's just my day off, and I've been meaning to go to The Magic Shop lately." I have been, even before finding the card in my dresser, currently tucked into the pocket of my hoodie. I'm my usual schlub self this morning in oversized clothes, glasses, and with my hair tied into a messy bun. "You have work you're doing anyway, right?"

"Indeed." Odai stands from the computer desk and joins me outside the office door where I peeked in on him.

I'm not really sure what he's working on, but with the place all to ourselves today, I woke to find him here. He also updated our previous excel sheet of catalogued items upstairs to be far more efficient, and even noted some things we hadn't remembered were up there.

"Are there any desires or wishes I can fulfill for you before you go?" he asks.

I honestly forget I can ask for things. Plus, when you can have whatever you want, you can't think of anything on the spot. "Coffee? I mean, I wish for my usual coffee from Sage, so I don't have to make the extra trip."

Odai smiles and holds out his hand, with a to-go cup already in it.

I take a sip, and it is better than when Sage's best barista makes it. Of course it is.

"Anything else?" Odai asks eagerly.

"Um… not right now. Sorry."

His mouth twitches, almost strained, like his unfulfilled wish is to keep fulfilling mine. That is what he told me the first night. The more he grants, the more he wants to grant something else, to feed himself by pleasing me. That doesn't have to be a bad thing, right? Not when he glances with obvious yearning down my body—which seriously, is nothing special right now; the oversized hoodie I'm wearing says I'm Cold on the front and practically reaches my knees.

I guess there is one other thing I can ask for. "Can I wish for a kiss goodbye?"

Odai smiles. He moves with such grace, such determined confidence, as he sweeps me into his arms with a hand at the back of my head and kisses me deep. Without me having to ask this time, I feel his forked tongue, and it nearly makes my knees buckle.

I really like that.

I'm glad he likes it too.

"Do hurry back," Odai says when he releases me. "Time not spent fulfilling your wishes, leaves me hungrier for more of you."

That is such a "well, mark me down as scared and horny" sort of thing to hear that I almost wish for a quickie. But nope! We are downstairs in full view of the windows, and there are things to do. "Since The Magic Shop spooks you so much, maybe I'll ask while I'm there if The Owner wants to do any joint ventures with Madame Mattie's."

"You can try," Odai says.

He seems so wary again, so cryptic, that I open my mouth, fully ready to ask what the deal is with that place and why he won't go inside, but since he's not trying to stop me from going, I figure I maybe don't want to know.

If an incubus can exist, who knows what else is out there ?

The line for Sage is almost out the door this morning, and I sip contentedly from my conjured cup as I make my way across the street. The Magic Shop, as I said, is down the alley behind Cold Stone. I always figured the somewhat hidden location was to add to the ambiance of it being mystical and eerie. It's otherwise never seemed odd to me.

The red sign is in script like an old fortune teller's shop, and inside, the smell of old books like ancient library stacks hits me, mixed with incense. I like it here, the smell and feel of the place. It seems larger on the inside, with taller ceilings too. Like, I would swear the building does not go this high, but along the walls, filled with books, are those roller ladders like Belle swung on in Beauty and the Beast .

Despite the high ceilings, it feels cozy, with dimmer lighting, lots of browns and blacks and darker colors, and the aisles in each section are almost too narrow for more than one person at a time. There are several sections besides being a bookstore, including one for crystals, like I lied to Mr. B about for getting the amulet, which is warm as always where it rests beneath my hoodie.

I think the card I found might be from a Tarot deck, so I head toward that section, an area for divination. If I find a matching deck, do I want to buy it? Do I just want to know if it was Mattie's? I'm not sure, but I start to peruse through the many oracle decks in stock. The traditional Rider Waite, some art deco looking decks, mythology-based ones, even one with only men depicted on any of the cards and a night sky background, but none of them match Mattie's card.

"May I help you, young one?"

I jump, because I am in the middle of a row, but The Owner is suddenly right next to me. I did not see him head toward me at all. It's early, and down this aisle, it's just us, and it could be just us in the entire shop.

I've met him before, several times. He sort of dresses like a ring master, or a classic magician, I guess, top hat included. Since he's mostly in all black, and his hair is black too, it makes his eyes look just as dark, like he doesn't have pupils. In the past, I attributed his strangeness to eccentricity, a performance like how I pretend to be Mattie, but given Odai's reaction to this place, I'm left wondering if there is a forked tongue in The Owner's mouth too.

"Um… I, uh…"

"You are interested in an oracle deck?"

"Maybe? I found this card." I take it out of my pocket to show it to him. "I was checking if you had a deck that matched it."

"I see." He takes it from me using both hands, like it is something weightier than it is or precious. "The High Priestess personified as Persephone has always been a favorite depiction of mine. This is from a very old deck and one of a kind."

"It's in such good condition. "

"It is."

"I guess because it was caught in a tight space without much chance for dust or other degradation to reach it. I found it—"

"At Mad Madame Mattie's, I presume?"

"Y-yeah."

"Because you work there, young one. It is not a difficult deduction."

I relax a little. Just because he's weird doesn't mean he's the reason Odai is afraid of this place. Maybe there's something in the store that has more power than even The Owner would understand.

He looks at me, and his mouth gives a little twitch, like he heard me think that.

Focus, Jeffrey.

"So, um, I guess I don't know what I want. Maybe… if you know anything about that card or the deck it came from?"

"I do. Mattie had it commissioned by a local artist. If you look closely in the light, you can see that it is hand-painted." He turns the front of the card to face me and tilts it.

I can't tell actually, it's too perfect, maybe only betraying the barest unevenness of a brush stroke.

"The High Priestess card is one of the Major Arcana, as you may be aware," he says. "I suppose its most important facets are that of intuition and embracing one's duality."

"That makes sense, Persephone being caught between life and death, springtime and winter, and all that."

"Worship and being worshipped," The Owner continues. "Masculine and feminine. "

"It seems pretty obviously feminine."

"Perhaps at first. But stereotypically masculine traits are shown in Persephone. The thaw of spring can be quite destructive when a thunderstorm strikes. It is in her acceptance of her duality that she found happiness."

I've always preferred the romantic iterations of Persephone and Hades, where they want to be together, chose each other, not him kidnapping her and forcing her into marriage. I like The Owner's explanation and reach to take the card back from him.

He pulls it closer to his chest.

"Might I present the offer of an exchange?" he asks. "I keep the card and trade you anything in the store you want. Anything at all."

"Oh, I… I don't know. I kind of like the card, knowing it was Mattie's and something so rare. I don't know if there's anything in the store right now that I'd want more."

"No? Are you certain there is nothing you'd… wish for?"

My stomach plummets, and I clutch the still mostly full coffee cup the way The Owner is clutching my card. "I'm focused on Madame Mattie's right now, on making sure it stays open. I love that place and the tunnels, all its history, the intrigue of it all." And learning that there really was an incubus responsible for her success.

The Owner smirks again. "Might you then be interested in an exchange for Madame Mattie's personal journal? "

The hair on the back of my neck stands taller. "Do you really have something like that?" No journal or written accounts by Mattie, other than bookkeeping, were ever discovered. At least not known discoveries.

"Come with me. All sorts of treasures find their way inside my shop." He flourishes the card, and it's gone like a magic trick. I hope just up his sleeve, because if he's tricking me, I am going to go back to Odai and wish for the card's return. Assuming that would work.

I follow The Owner anyway. Seeing someone else walking out of another aisle, browsing casually, does ease me a little.

There is a back room I've never personally seen someone exit or enter, and a little café counter that has never once been open, not in all the times I've come here, despite looking in working order and kept tidy. Beside it is the checkout counter.

The Owner retrieves a small box like a miniature treasure chest from behind the counter. It's small enough that only a single book could fit inside, more likely filled with jewelry, but although I can't see what's in there when he opens it, what he pulls out is indeed a small, weathered, leather-bound book.

With Mattie's initials embossed on the front: M.S.

I reach for it without thinking, and the Owner passes it to me. A quick rifle through its pages shows that it is almost entirely full. The handwriting is flowy but not illegible and flipping back to the front with a delicate touch, I find an inscription.

No compromise. Ever. The diary of Matilda Elizabeth Swaine.

"Do we have a deal?" The Owner asks.

It's all a little convenient, too perfect, even more so than having a genie back at home who could have conjured this very journal for me if I'd thought to ask for it. Which makes me wonder, "Does she write anything about the incubus? I mean, does she divulge if she believed the story was true?" Just in case, I figure I shouldn't say, does she admit it's true.

"You will have to read to find out." He grins and asks again, "Do we have a deal, young one?"

"Yes," I say, and the book fits almost as easily into my hoodie as the card did. "It's a deal."

Odai

Jeffrey is changed when he returns, distracted. I do not know what he encountered in that place of power, I do not fully know what resides there, but it pulses with unknown depths of magic that stretch beyond me. Something protects it, which is why I did not fear for Jeffrey but would also not dare cross its threshold myself and invite conflict.

Some magics do not interact benignly with each other, and some wielders are territorial.

"Did you foster any partnership agreements?" I ask.

"Oh shit. I forgot to ask. I'll go there again sometime."

"Shall I fulfill any desires for you—"

" Later . Sorry." He pauses in his harried escape of me but has already opened the door to upstairs, presumedly to retire to his room. "I bought a book and could really use some me time—some alone time—to read it and decompress. Is that okay? I wish it for only a couple hours."

"Granted. And of course. If you want anything in the meantime, you need only ask."

It does help that Jeffrey thinks to say the words, to wish his requests of me, which makes it more of a compulsion and helps to feed my urges. I will not disturb him now until he asks it or returns downstairs. He is keeping something from me, but that is my owner's prerogative. Given Jeffrey's general judgment, I assume he has good reason.

I have done important work toward achieving his primary wish, things I can explain to him when he has need of me again. It is lonely with how quiet it is in the building, closed for the day. When Mattie ran it, there was no "day off" although anyone could request one or longer when needed .

Save me. I was at her beck and call and would have had it no other way, could not have had it any other way. The building was always a bustle then, full of desires and potential.

Since Jeffrey granted me autonomy, I could leave the building, and I'd still hear if he called to me, if he wished something. I do consider it and move toward the front to peer out the windows at the passing people and vehicles and life just out of reach.

Across the street, the corner of my vision catches sight of a tall, thin man wearing a suit and top hat, but when I turn my head to look at him fully, there is no one, maybe only an echo, before a passing car vanishes him completely.

I back away from the windows and decide to return to work. Whatever exists in that shop, who Jeffrey went to engage with so casually, it has desires I could never fulfill.

And I hope I am never asked to.