6
Burned Feathers
Iris
The next day
Nullivex. Guaranteed to dispel magical inconveniences.I stare at the innocuous bottle on the shelf and force myself not to scream.
The packaging is cheerful. It’s mint green with rounded edges and has a small embossed star I assume is meant to be reassuring. The font says,Take me. I am a perfectly normal pharmaceutical response to your situation.My situation involves a reality this peppy lettering was never meant to reflect.
“That’s not a terrible choice, darling,” a voice says from behind me. I turn to find a siren eyeing me knowingly. “But this is abetter brand. Milder on the human body.” She reaches past me, lifts a different bottle, and holds it out.
I take it by reflex and manage a smile. “Thank you.”
“The star on yours is purely decorative,” she explains. “With this one, you actually get your money’s worth.”
Then she moves on down the aisle and disappears around the corner. I’m left holding the better brand and trying to remember how to breathe normally in a public space.
The sensible thing is to focus on the bottle.
I’m good at sensible. I’ve been good at it for twenty-five years, which is why last night was so inconvenient. Somewhere between the smoke going up and the part that came after, I misplaced the skill entirely. I found it again around four in the morning.
That was when I realized that, after my hookup with Rakan, heartbreak was the least of my problems. We didn’t use protection. And I had absolutely no idea how djinn contraception works.
Before I could lose my mind to panic, I remembered the pharmacy.
I only knew about this place because of Mary. A few weeks back, she and a dryad I recognized as a semi-regular sat down to talkat Mary’s usual table. I caught maybe thirty seconds of their conversation before the espresso machine needed me.
“I know Agatha’s Satchel is a little difficult to get to,” the dryad said, “but by Gaia, there’s no place better to get rarer products.”
I filed it away without intending to, never thinking it would mean a thing. But it did.
That brings me here on what should be a normal Saturday morning. I begged off work for two hours to solve my problem. To make sure I don’t become a single mother to a djinn baby. What a way to start my weekend.
The hag at the desk doesn’t look up when I approach.
Her name tag readsAgatha. She has deep-set eyes, a heavy brow, and nails that could disembowel a golem. I set the bottle on the counter and refuse to stare.
Agatha picks it up and runs her wrinkled fingers over the label. “First time with this brand?”
I paste on a shaky smile. “First time with everything here, I’m afraid. Any advice?”
Agatha produces a paper bag from somewhere below the counter. “Take it with food. Not because you have to.” She drops the bottle in and folds the top twice with crisp, efficient movements. “Because you’ll feel better if you do.”
She doesn’t bother telling me the price. Maybe she knows it doesn’t matter. I don’t ask, either. I hand her my card, wanting nothing more than to run away from this place and its strange kindness.
Agatha runs the card and then slides it toward me along with the bag. “Have a good morning,” she says. She hasn’t quite dismissed me, but she’s already turning toward her next customer.
I take advantage of the chance to make my escape. Nobody pays attention to me as I rush outside, bag in hand.
The street greets me with deceptive normality. At first, it seems just as bright and busy as my own neighborhood. But this is still the monster district, and it still feels somehow… other.
The architecture is the same, but the scale is slightly off. The doorways are taller than they need to be. The shop windows display objects with no obvious explanation. A centaur moves through the crowd ahead of me with two foals trailing behind him. Unlike my customers at The Daily Grind, they look perfectly at ease. The foals don’t seem inclined to climb on anything, at least.
I tuck my paper bag under my arm and join the foot traffic. I’ve been to this neighborhood maybe a dozen times, and I still do the same thing each visit. I walk a little more carefully, half-expecting the city to reveal some rule it forgot to mention.
I’m still doing it when I stop at the corner and find Rakan looking back at me from a magazine stand.
