As odd as all that was, it still felt more odd that I had invited the man who had stolen from me and nearly head-traumaed Rory in the process to be there. She, at least, seemed to be handling it civilly enough. Her pole arm was put away, broken down into its component pieces in the art tube across her back, but more than anything I still worried about the look of mistrust in her eyes toward my fellow alchemist. I only hoped the pole arm stayed put away.
Marshall stood next to her, nervously wringing his hands together, while Caleb and I both watched with mutual concern.
“You sure this isn’t a problem?” Caleb asked, looking from Marshall back to me.
“Don’t mind Marshall,” I said. “He’s just worried about his toys.”
Marshall looked like I had just slapped him—but I met his look with a steady gaze, and the offended wind went out of his sails.
“Just try not to destroy anything or set my store on fire,” he said quietly.
“Relax,” Caleb said, slapping him on the shoulder reassuringly. His eyes sparkled with a charm and confidence that none of us seemed to find fully convincing. The alchemist pulled a few glass vials from within his long brown coat, holding them up to the light, checking the colors within. “This is a science . . . sort of. And it’s all in control. Mostly.”
Marshall’s face when white, and Rory clapped her roommate on the other shoulder. “Comforting, right, pal?” she asked.
“We need to test the version of Kimiya Caleb reverse engineered on his own,” I said. “This is only going to be a small-scale experiment, okay? Just to see if it works so we have some jumping-in point if we’re going to re-create it.”
“And you’re sure it’s not explosive?” Marshall asked, still looking unconvinced.
“It’s just my home brew,” Caleb said. “My prototype version of the ever-dwindling concoction that Alexander Belarus mastered centuries ago.”
“Your store’s going to be fine,” I said. “We’re just going to test his version to snap an arcane connection all Spellmason like. It’s not explosive.”
“Probably not,” Caleb added. “Never say never.”
I shot him a look but resisted the urge to bark at him. If he was half as punchy as I was from poring over the notes in the Libra Concordia, it was best to let it lie.
Marshall turned to me, grabbed my arm, and dragged me out through the heavy curtain that blocked the door into the customer side of the store. “You are taking responsibility for him, right?”
“He’s not a pet,” I said, easily pulling free from his nervous grasp.
“Just say it, then,” he said. “If only to give me a little reassurance. Humor me.”
“Fine,” I said. “Caleb breaks it, I buy it. Fair enough?”
Marshall’s face calmed a bit, but there was still worry in his eyes. “You couldn’t do this at either one of your alchemy labs?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I’ve got the same trust issues that you and Rory both do,” I said. “I didn’t want us working at the Libra Concordia. Not the way Desmond Locke is pursuing his interest in Stanis. And until I have the feeling that I can trust this Caleb, I don’t want him near either of my great-great-grandfather’s workspaces.”
Marshall sighed and gave a glance toward the small crowd gathered at the front of the store. “I just don’t want any damage while I’m trying to run our Magic: The Gathering tournament.”
I nodded even though I had zero idea what the last part of his sentence meant. From the group of people chattering away at the front of the store, it apparently involved consuming bucketloads of soda and a variety of snack foods while arranging colorful playing cards on tables.
“You go have fun,” I said, pushing him off toward his people. “Go. Mingle. Get your nerd on.”
Marshall started to protest just as Rory poked her head out of the back room through the curtain.
“Everything okay out here?” she asked.
“Do me a favor,” I said, grabbing her arm and pulling her out from behind the curtain. “Go up front with Marshall, will you? Make sure he enjoys himself.”
Rory shook her head and looked toward the back room. “And leave you alone with the guy who nearly gave me a concussion?” she said. “No way. What if he concusses you? I won’t have you getting concussed on my watch.”
“I’ll be fine with Caleb Kennedy,” I said, mustering as convincing a tone as I could. “I can handle myself.”
Both of my friends met me with blank stares and raised eyebrows.
“Okay, fine, sometimes I can handle myself.” I lowered my voice and pulled the two of them farther away from the curtain. “Listen. I need to work with this guy. He knows things I don’t about Alexander and the arcane, and I have to access that knowledge. I’ll be safe. Besides, do you really think he’s going to start something here?”
“Yeah,” they said in unison, which I couldn’t help laughing at.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “At the tiniest hint of trouble, I’ll scream. All right?”
Marshall still didn’t look entirely convinced, but Rory grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him toward the front of the store.
“Fine,” she said, pushing him along. “I can hear the stubborn in your voice about this. Come on, Marsh. We’ll wait for her scream while you play with your little nerdlings. We’ll hear her, don’t worry. I know she’s good at it ever since our sixth-grade trip to Six Flags.”
“Thank you, Rory,” I said, singsonging, relaxing a bit as relief filled me. “Yes, I can still scream, even if it’s not motivated by roller-coaster panic. And for your information, I’m much better about heights now, thanks to our winged friend.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she called out over her shoulder, as Marshall finally gave in and walked with her on his own toward the crowd at the front of the store. “Hopefully, some of what you learn from blondie there will help you make our winged friend actually friendly again.”
I hope so, too, I thought to myself, as they walked away.
The throng of alpha geek males and a few of the females turned their heads to check out Rory as she came down the center aisle of the store toward them. I turned away, going back through the curtain into the storeroom once more.
Caleb was squatting now by a long, low coffee table surrounded by an assortment of mismatched couches and chairs. A miniature stone maze lay on the table, and Caleb lifted a tiny metal figure out of it and rolled it around the palm of his hand. At my approach, he stood and turned to me.
“Sorry about that,” I said. “I thought we might concentrate better if Rory and Marshall weren’t watching over my shoulder.”
His face shifted, his eyes narrowing at me with what I thought looked like an annoyed suspicion.
“What?” I asked.
Caleb stepped past me and ran his hand over the curtain across the doorway. “This is cloth, you know,” he said, talking to me like I was a child. “And given its physical properties, it doesn’t really block out sound all that well. I heard just about, oh, everything.”
I quickly went over what my friends and I had been discussing on the other side of it, and my face went crimson. After all, every last word had been about him.
“My friends are just concerned,” I explained, trying not to sound overly defensive. “You did give Rory a good reason to be.” I rubbed the spot on my head where Rory had hit the floor after his sleeping-dust trick.