I opened the shop but business was slow; the inhabitants of London didn’t seem in the mood for shopping and I couldn’t really blame them. The day wore on and morning turned into afternoon, but neither the weather nor the attendance improved, and when Luna finally dropped by I gave up and closed early to do inventory.
“Okay,” Luna said. “The next one’s a teacup.”
“What colour?”
“Cream.”
“You mean white?”
“Not all of us have sixteen-colour vision, you know. It’s got a picture of a sailing boat on the side.”
“Got it,” I said, tapping the notebook. “It’s a water magic focus.”
My shop’s called the Arcana Emporium, and if you live in London and want a magic item then it’s the place to go. Most of the items I sell aren’t actually magical, but then most of my customers don’t know the difference. I do have a collection of genuine magical items in the roped-off area in the right corner, but I try to avoid selling them to anyone who doesn’t know what they’re doing because quite frankly it’s dangerous and someone could get hurt. The downside to this is that the magic-item shelves get kind of crowded. When the stacks get high enough to start causing landslides, I go through the piles and try to match the items with the notes I scrawled when I got them. This time I’d pulled in Luna to help, partly so she could get some practice at identification and partly because if you’ve got a boring job you might as well have some company.
“What does it do?” Luna asked.
“When you pour any liquid inside, it changes the flavour over the next five minutes.”
“Sounds pretty useful.”
“Yeah, except the guy who made it had really specific tastes. His favourite seasoning was chilli sauce, so if you put anything in there, then after a few minutes that’s what it tastes of. Chilli-sauce-flavoured tea, chilli-sauce-flavoured beer, chilli-sauce-flavoured milk, chilli-sauce-flavoured apple juice—”
“I get it,” Luna said with a shudder. “Storage?”
“Storage. Unless I find someone who really likes chilli sauce.”
Luna craned her neck down. “The next one’s a book. It doesn’t have a label.”
“Colour?”
“Teal.”
“Why can’t you just say blue or green like a normal person?” I flipped through the notebook. “What’s inside?”
“Hang on . . .” There was a rustling sound. “Okay, what’s next?”
“What about the book?”
“What book?”
“The one which is apparently teal, whatever that means. What’s inside?”
“Uh . . .” Luna paused. “What were we doing?”
“Looking at the book.”
“What book?”
I looked up in exasperation. “Will you stop being a smart-arse?”
“Look, it kind of helps if you tell me what you want.”
I started to answer, then frowned. “Hang on a second. Take a look at that book on the shelf.”
“That one?”
“Yeah, that one. Open it and tell me what you see.”
Luna picked up the clothbound book, the silver mist of her curse folding around it, and this time I watched closely. She opened the book, glanced briefly at the first page, then her eyes unfocused and she closed it and replaced it on the shelf before turning to me. “Hm? What?”
“What was in that book?”
“What book?” Luna stopped and frowned. “Wait—didn’t I just say that?”
Empirical testing confirmed what I suspected: the book had some kind of mind or enchantment effect, causing anyone who opened it to replace the book and forget about it. The pages seemed blank, but it was hard to concentrate long enough to be sure. “Huh,” I said eventually. “I wonder what’s powering it?”
“Am I some sort of guinea pig here?” Luna asked sceptically. “Is that why I’m the one picking these things up and you’re over there going through the records?”
“Risk builds character.”
“Last month you said people trying to kill you builds character.”
“So think what a wonderful person you’re growing up to be. Anyway, you need the practice.”
Luna muttered something under her breath which I didn’t try too hard to hear and reached for the next thing along. “Okay, next one’s . . . a little figure of a cat.”
“Can you tell what it is?”
“Kind of . . . It feels like it’s something for talking. Communicating? Does it let you talk to cats?”
“Not bad,” I said. That had been right on target. “It’s a summoning focus. Toss it over and I’ll show you.”
Luna slid the figurine across the desk and I picked it up. It was made of alabaster, and I traced a finger across the smooth surface to the cat’s chest and tapped it. “See this point? When you channel your magic there, it sends out a call to the nearest feline within range of about the right size and draws it to you.”
“So it summons a housecat?”
“As long as there’s one around.”
“That sounds cool. So what, you can get it to spy on people and stuff?”
“No, it acts like a normal cat. It checks to see if you’ve brought it anything to eat, and if not it buggers off.”
Luna gave me a look. “You know, I think I’m starting to see why no one uses these things.”
“It works on dogs as well, if that helps.”
“I’ll pass. So . . . ?”
“So?”
“How’d the meeting with Anne go?”
“I asked if she wanted my help, she said no.” I stuck the figurine into my pocket. “Several times. By the way, you might have mentioned that Anne specifically asked you not to bring me in on this.”
“If I’d told you that you wouldn’t have gone.”
I glared at Luna.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” I’ve developed a fine ear for Luna’s apologies over the last couple of years, and this was one of her I’m-not-sorry-but-I’ll-pretend-to-be varieties. “So what did you do?”
“I left.”
Luna paused. “That was it?”
“For the purposes of what you’re talking about, yes. And because I know you’re going to ask: Yes, we talked about other things and no, none of it made her even the slightest bit inclined to come back. What were you expecting me to do, anyway?”
Luna scratched her hair. “I don’t know. I just thought you might be able to talk her into it.”
“You have a really inflated opinion of what I can do.”
“I’ve seen you talk to Dark mages who want to kill you, and you get them doing what you want inside five minutes.”
“Okay,” I said. “There’s a bit of a difference there. Tricking people who want to hurt or manipulate me? Something I’m good at. Getting people to like and trust me? Something I’m bad at. Even if I could, I’m running out of motivation to do it.”
Luna frowned. “Why?”
“Because Anne’s made it beyond clear that she’s not interested and it’s getting to the point where carrying on is starting to feel like harassing her.”
“So what should we do?”
“Nothing. I’m not Anne’s master. She’s an adult and it’s her decision.”
“It’s a stupid decision,” Luna said angrily. “I don’t care if it’s up to her, she’s my best friend. I don’t want something to happen just because you two had a fight!”
I sighed. “Look, I know this hasn’t turned out well, but sometimes relationships just end. Maybe you’ll get back in contact someday and maybe you won’t, but forcing it doesn’t help.”
Luna looked back at me, her face stubborn and set. “I’m calling her again,” she told me, and walked out the back door. There was a bang and I heard her feet racing up the stairs. I rolled my eyes and went back to inventory.
Luna stayed in her room for the rest of the day—strictly speaking it’s not “her” room, but it’s the only spare bedroom and now that Anne and Variam don’t live here anymore she’s the only one who uses it. I was less than halfway through the items by the time the sun had set, and was just debating whether to put in a couple more hours or leave it to another day when Luna reappeared in the doorway. “Can you get through to Anne?” she asked.