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“How long will the illusion last?”
“Approximately twenty minutes.”
He stared at Wynter, his eyes sparkling with interest. “That’s … I’ve never seen anyone do anything like that.”
She smiled. “Pretty cool, huh? Be sure to spread the word.”
Shortly before lunchtime, he returned with several of his lair who wanted their own weapons to be enchanted. They weren’t her only customers. Others came—partially out of genuine interest, and partially because they didn’t want people with enchanted weapons having an edge overthem.
Later, after the ‘store’ was closed and the entire crew was then sat around the kitchen table, Xavier poured their profits onto the surface while Delilah scribbled down the items or services they’d taken in trade. Hattie’s ‘space cakes’ had been highly popular, as were Anabel’s potions that enabled people to see past fey glamor.
“I’d say that was what you’d call a successful day,” said Wynter.
“And it’s only the beginning, darlin’,” noted Hattie, stroking a crystal serving platter they’d been given as payment—one she’d been quick to claim for herself.
Lots of witchy stuff had been offered in trade, including candles, plants, and incense burners. Wynter had chosen some items for herself, as had the others.
“How long do you think it will be before local business owners get in a snit?” asked Anabel.
“Considering we’re stealing business from the bakeries, the herbalist stores, the cosmetic shops, the blacksmith shops, and the diviners … I’d say not long,” replied Wynter.
The blacksmiths wouldn’t suffer a dramatic loss, since she couldn’t create weapons, but there would besomeloss because people wouldn’t need to renew their blades when they could simply ask her to jazz them up. They’d also be reluctant to part with their enchanted weaponry, so they wouldn’t be in a rush to replace them—she’d seen that for herself back when she lived at Aeon.
Pushing her old home out of her mind, she said, “Well, we’d better start getting ready for tonight’s festivities.”
Delilah nodded. “The parade part sounds a little boring, since everyone’s required to stand around waiting for their turn to wave when Ishtar’s float goes by. But I’m looking forward to the feast. There’s supposed to be some music and dancing …andthere’s a rumor that things will get a little, shall we say, raw at one point. Don’t know if it’s true or not. But if a mist builds up and people start getting down and dirty, fully expect Cain to make a move right there. Oh, and don’t forget to show some camel—”
“Jesus, Del, do you have no shame?” demanded Wynter while Hattie cackled.
“Not when I wanna get laid,” replied Delilah. “I also wantyouto get laid. It’s been too long. We fix that tonight.”
Shaking her head, Wynter turned to Xavier. “Any chance you could help me cart my new stuff upstairs?”
“Sure,” he easily agreed.
Anabel and Delilah also helped, so it only took one trip to move everything upstairs. The trio then left, leaving Wynter to properly ‘nest.’ She set her African violet plant on the windowsill, arranged some candles around the room, and laid her astrological-themed throw over her armchair. She then placed her books on the shelf, which looked great bordered by her brand-new raven bookends. Only then did she unpack her suitcase and spruce up the décor with her collection of crystals. She’d add other things as she went along.
Done, she helped the rest of her crew carry their new things to their bedrooms and then returned to her own so she could get ready for tonight’s event. She chose one of her favorite dresses—made of black sheer lace, the racy number barely hid her underwear and ended just beneath her knees. The latter would no doubt disappoint Delilah.
Descending the stairs a short while later, she found the others gathered around the living area, which now also had some personal touches with the crescent moon mirror, triangular wall vases of fig and ivy, triple moon trunk, pretty throw pillows, and the Moon tarot card rug.
“Everyone ready?” she asked.
Anabel shrank in her seat. “Is it really compulsory for the entire town to attend?”
Xavier nodded, standing. “Ishtar will allegedly take it as an insult if not everyone is there to celebrate that she’s woken.”
Anabel frowned. “But it doesn’t make any sense. You said celebrations are held in the village hall. Everyone can’t possibly fit in there.”
“No,” he agreed, grinning, “but they can all fit in the huge arena that’s apparently located deep in the woods. And I, for one, am looking forward to seeing it.”
*
Perched on top of the highest of the underground city’s three towers, Cain skimmed his gaze along the residents who were waiting for the parade to start. Standing shoulder to shoulder, most lined the streets. Others hung out of windows or sat on roofs.
Aides walked around handing out streamers or balloons—most of which were taken reluctantly. There was no real excitement on the faces of the people below. They might be glad to have another Ancient awake as it was more protection for Devil’s Cradle, but they didn’t seem to like that they had to stand around and essentially pay homage to Ishtar like she was some sort of goddess. But then, Ishtar saw herself as such.
Hearing footfalls, Cain glanced behind him to see Azazel and Seth approaching. The other Ancients would join them soon—it was tradition for them to situate themselves at the main tower during parades or similar events.
