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No tightness formed in my gut, meaning she was telling the truth.
“But you’re sure there was only one copy produced?”
She squinted again. “I’m sure.”
“Ugh,” I moaned, grabbing my stomach, the force of her lie bending me in half.
“Are you all right?”
I nodded and spun an excuse. “I’m fine but probably should have passed on that breakfast burrito from the gas station this morning.”
She knew there was another copy, and I had no doubt she was using it to try to gain access to Roarke’s magic.
Recovering, I sat up. “Well, thank you for answering my questions. I suppose I should let you get back to work now.”
“Stay,” she snapped, then smoothed her tone. “I just have to shelve these books and refill some of the crystal bins, but then we could grab an early lunch if you’d like.”
I had no desire to stick around but thought perhaps if I spent a little more time with her, she might open up… or slip up, revealing something I could use. “Great. That sounds fun. Would you like some help shelving the books?”
“No. I’ve got it. You just relax or have a look around. Actually, I just got in a new shipment of dried flowers and herbs. I’d love for you to take a look at them and give me your opinion.”
“Um… sure.” I wasn’t sure how my opinion would matter, but this gave me another idea of how I could sell my wares back home.
We didn’t have a metaphysical store in West Greenwich, but I knew of one a couple towns away that might be willing to work out a deal.
Isabelle guided me to her stockroom, pointing to the crates of packaged herbs in the corner. “Let me know what you think of the quality.” With a wink, she left me alone in the room.
Boxes holding books, candles, oils, and herbs were stacked neatly in sections, all ready to be moved out front and put on sale. I couldn’t help but think of my small storeroom back home with cabinets full of my handmade creams, herbal blends, and teas. I didn’t see anything like that here and wondered if I should offer them to Isabelle. If she agreed to consign some of my things, it would be an easy way for me to keep an eye on her without arousing any further suspicion… hopefully.
I opened one of the herb packets and inspected the dried seed pods inside. The quality was okay, if a little stagnant, but I wasn’t about to offer such a big-yield item and be forced to grow and harvest just to fulfill her stock.
I walked back into the front room, sharing my thoughts. “Your herb packets look good, but I was wondering—”
I froze, staring at Isabelle’s eyes as they glowed a sickly yellow-green. Her black hair was blowing wildly in the air as if an unseen tornado had formed inside the shop. However, the most disturbing thing about the scene was her insidious smile as she waved my little black book held tightly in her hand.
“Isabelle, what are you doing?” I shouted.
“It should have been me.” Her voice was raw and strained, screaming above the magical wind tearing through her store.
Shelves were upended, spilling their contents onto the floor. Books flew across the room like in a real-life horror film, and the closer I got, the more I could feel the tainted magic she was using to pierce the dreamscape’s veil.
“Stop. You have no idea what you’re doing.” I threw out my hand, knocking her off balance with a powerful blast of my own. My hereditary magic flowed through me, giving me the strength and wisdom in this time of need. The energy surged, culminating in a shock wave that shook the walls and brought Isabelle to her knees.
“You don’t deserve it…” Isabelle stammered, weeping from the floor.
“What are you talking about?”
She looked up at me, her eyes still glowing that putrid yellow-green. “I should be his Queen of Nightmares! Not you.”
