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“What?” I ask, now confused.
Chuckling softly, he explains, “Healing draughts are fickle. Metal can make the potion inert.” Who is this man? He feels familiar and even his laughter doesn’t feel like he is doing it out of ill will. “Keep up the stirring, my lady. The mixture looks superb. The lilac sheen is precisely where it needs to be at this stage.”
The tapping brings me out of my daydream.
“Dear, are you feeling quite alright? Have you run out of your medicine,” Agatha whispers.
Not only am I marked by death, but I hear and see things others can’t. If the town knew… I’d probably be forced into the ranks of the Pythian Priestesses.
“Nearly,” I meekly replied. “Is it noticeable? I have been taking a third of what I'm supposed to.” Biting my lip, I shift nervously.
She shrugs. “Only to those who care enough to look.”
Nodding, I drop my metal stick for a wooden spoon.
After spending two hours on the mixture, I finally completed it. Stretching, I clean my table and begin sweeping, dusting, and tending to customers. Agatha hobbles up behind the counter, watching me work. “Maybe you should go out and enjoy the evening.” She gripped my arm as I passed by.
“It’s okay Agatha, it has been such a busy night already. I wouldn’t want to abandon you and the shop.” Plus, I love it here. As the only bookshop and apothecary in the area, the business is always booming on holiday evenings. Bringing people in from all over.
Agatha began untying my shop apron as she chided, “Come on child, please go and enjoy your night on behalf of this old lady.” She flicks my apron off and brushes hair out of my face. “Afterall you never know how much time you have left.”
Her face is pale. Almost as gray as her hair.
“Are you okay, Aggie?” Scanning the area, I glance around the shop for anything.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just got carried away in my thoughts,” she grimaces.
I could feel this was not the entire truth. “Mhmm,” I reply with a voice that oozes with suspicion.
She taps my hand once again before hobbling to the money box beneath the counter before grabbing out a small bag of gold and tosses it to me. “Please humor this old lady and enjoy your night.”
I caught the bag. This was not like Aggie, but I chose not to press her. “Okay, Aggie.”
As I snatch my rucksack from behind the counter, Agatha pulls me into a deep warm hug. Her voice hovering a hair above a hushed tone. “Be wary of any strangers tonight but make sure to have fun.” She looks off into the distance at our sole lone customer in the shop. “Mischief is afoot tonight.”
“I promise to be careful.” I smile at my friend and grab a broom. After a quick sweep, I will leave for the night.
“Tonight isn’t like other nights. I can feel it deep in my bones.” Her voice wavers as the lone customer comes up to the counter. Agatha grips the counter firmly.
“It’s probably arthritis,” the massive man sneers. Easily a foot taller than me. He tosses the crystals toward Agatha as well as the payment. He hardly looks at Agatha. Instead, he stares at me with an air of arrogance.
“Run,” Ari whispers. “Don’t let him find you. Remain unseen.”
Too late for that, I think to myself.
I shake my broom at him threateningly. Well, as threatening as a broom could be. “Look here you arrogant malaka! You don’t get to come in here and disrespect Agatha.”
Looking me up and down he smiles at me predatorily, “Oh, what’s this? A feisty little mouse?”
I raise my eyebrow before narrowing my eyes. My temper flares. “That's it, you're done. This mouse will be putting your ass out.” I smack the man with the broom and shoo him out of the door.
The man with the golden eyes widened. Watching me in horror, he snaps, “Oi, I'm buying some crystals, and I'm not done here.”
Gritting my teeth, I glare at the man. “Too bad. Learn some respect and maybe you can come back.” I turn back to the man who stares down at me with a slackened jaw. “Leave!” I flick him firmly in the ass with the bramble broom.
The man tumbles out onto the busy streets. His anger is self-evident, but I don’t care. Even though he is irate, there was something else there. Maybe confusion?
“What? Not used to being told what to do by a mouse?” I give him a fake pouty face.” His smoky golden eyes narrow at me.
