by Jamie Davis
“It’s a small thing,” Winnie said, even though she knew it wasn’t. As far as she knew, no one had ever done anything like it before. “I discovered that I could tighten the weave and make it more durable if I inverted the flows after laying them in place. The process altered their visibility as well, unless you know the key to my pattern.”
“Most remarkable. Perhaps you would deign to show me how you have managed this at some point in the future? I would greatly appreciate it, Miss Durham.”
“I would be happy to. It’s complicated, but I believe others could manage it once shown the method. I thought of it as a way to make sure that others couldn’t copy my work or alter the charms after I’ve put them in place.”
“Well, I’ve never seen anything like it. It is said that others in the distant past possessed the knowledge to shade their magics from the prying eyes of others, but I’ve not heard of a soul in this modern age managing the feat.”
“When I’m finished working on Mrs. Adams’s clock, I’d be happy to show you.”
“I would appreciate that, Miss Durham. I have been watching your shop for some time, and have seen no reason to interfere with the work you’ve been doing. Charmed has played its part as a positive role model for chanter businesses elsewhere in this city. Since the passage of Resolution 84, though, I am concerned that we all must change our ways to present a strong front to the Assembly, prove that we’re not a danger to the population. I’m sure you understand.”
Winnie agreed with his surface message, but there was an undertone to what the old man was saying. Not exactly a threat, but definitely a strong suggestion. She nodded. “I’ll do what I can to represent myself as a citizen who follows the law and uses my abilities responsibly.”
“I am sure you will, Miss Durham. It may, however, become necessary to take a more active role in the future. I am forming an association of businesses and would appreciate your commitment to join us as we present our concerns to the Assembly. Only united can we preserve our way of life.”
Winnie saw a look of caution on Cait’s face. Elaine was shaking her head.
“I’ll think about it, Mr. Merrilyn. I have a lot to do right now, trying to transition my business to the new repair shop. I have to come up with advertising and get the word out to my former customers that I am still open in this new role.”
“Oh, I can help you with that, Miss Durham. It is one of the new Association’s key benefits. We will be able to promote group members to our collective customers. Plus, for those businesses I see as most beneficial to our community, I can use my own personal connections. A direct line to the highest levels of middling society would be quite beneficial for a small business like yours.”
Winnie heard what Artos was saying. Her success in business was tied to her membership in the proposed Association. Refuse, and she’d be on her own, scraping by on the few customers captured by the little advertising she could afford and anemic word of mouth. If she joined the old man’s initiative, she could count on more upper crust customers like Mrs. Adams finding their way to her door.
“Mr. Merrilyn, I am flattered by your kind offer. But I’m so focused on getting the shop up and running, I can’t really think about any other opportunities right now. I’d be happy to show you my new methods, once I perfect them. That could benefit other chanters, help them cast better charms more efficiently.”
“I can wait a few days, Miss Durham. But you must understand that our way of life is under assault. I’m sure you’re aware of the chanter deaths following the Red Legs raid on the Sparks club last night?”
Winnie didn’t feel the need to tell Artos that she had been there in person. She also didn’t wish to relive the trauma so soon. She just nodded.
“Those officers had no problem spraying bullets into a crowded nightclub filled with innocents, just to catch one man who may have been dealing magic. They failed to catch the man in question and have offered no apology to our community for the deaths caused by their carelessness. This is why we must present a united front. We can continue to prove that we use magic responsibly, but only by working together.” He gestured to the clock on the counter. “When will you be finished with your work?”
“I hope to have the clock done in the next day or so.”
“Excellent. I will look forward to seeing you in a few days, then. I shall tell Mr. Gunderson here to expect you at my offices. He will make sure you are passed directly to me. Please come to my building downtown and ask for him.”
“I’ll come when I have something to show you.” Winnie hoped her qualification didn’t anger the powerful man, not easily fooled.
“Very well, Miss Durham. I will leave you ladies to you work. By the way, Miss Marr, I want to thank you for your service in the army.”
Cait was startled by the sudden shift in attention. She gave the man a nervous smile.
“I know it is difficult for some veterans to find work. If you’re looking for a job that will neatly fit your particular skill set, you may come by my office and speak to Mr Gunderson as well.”
Artos nodded to each of them in turn, then walked to the door. He waited while Mr. Gunderson opened and held it for him. Winnie, Cait, and her mother watched him leave through the store’s front window. He climbed into his limo, then Mr. Gunderson shut the car’s door and walked around to the driver’s side. The car pulled away and Winnie vented a long-held breath.
Cait spoke first. “How did he know who I was? I’m a discharged buck private from the army. Surely there are other former members of the service more important to keep track of than me?”
“He knew about my business, too, Cait. Apparently, if it has to do with chanters, that man is keeping track.”
“That’s what makes him so dangerous, Winnie.” Elaine’s mouth was turned down at the corners. She looked as grim as she sounded. “It is never a good idea to be on Artos Merrilyn’s radar. He controls everything that happens inside the Enclave, and has his long fingers in the middle of everything else that’s magical in the city.”
“All the more reason to live on his good side, Mom.”
“There is no good side to that man, Winnie. He talks about killings at the nightclub as if it were a tragedy. His dealings in the Sable trade, selling forbidden magic without regard to how it effects people’s health and lives … it’s despicable. There is no redeeming his work by saying that he’s looking out for people like us. That doesn’t balance the scales.”
“Mrs. Durham, I do need a job,” Cait said. “I can use the work if he can really help me find it. My army severance is running dry. I’ve got rent to pay and food to buy. Winnie can use me part time, but that won’t be enough to support me. I need to find something else.”
“What kind of job do you think he means to find for you, Cait?” Elaine shook a gnarled finger at the girl. “He said he has work for someone with your unique skills. What skills do you think he means, if it isn’t your magical training?”
“What’s wrong with that, Mrs. Durham? I’m proud of the work I did while in the army. If I can use those skills here in civilian life, all the better.”
“You’re not as naive as Winnie. You know what Artos was talking about. He needs your training in offensive and defensive magic to aid his operations. That man wants you to walk the law’s tightrope like he does. But you have to understand: there’s only room for one person on the tightrope. Everyone else falls off eventually. Never forget that.”
“Mom, leave Cait alone. She can take care of herself. She wouldn’t do anything illegal. You’ve known her since I was in grade school.”
“I’m worried about you both, that’s all. I don’t trust that man.”
“We don’t trust him either, but he can help us with the shop. I can’t think of an alternative, which means we need this to work,” Winnie said. “Let me see if I can find a way to get his help, without getting mixed up in anything else.”
They all fell silent. Cait returned to gathering dismantled shelves a
nd carrying them to stack at the back of the shop. Winnie looked at Elaine, meeting her mother’s eyes, trying not to let their obvious worry affect her. It was a mom’s job to fret, but Winnie had been taking care of them both for years, and had lived more than her eighteen years. Mom had to trust her judgement in this. There was no other option.
Winnie joined Cait in dismantling and stacking the shelving across the store. Then they started reassembling the shelves in the new configuration. Elaine sat on her stool, offering suggestions and direction when needed. By lunchtime, they had the new layout in place. The counter was now by the door, separating the shop’s front from its rear, where repaired items could be stored until retrieved by their owners. The trio inspected their work, and smiled at their accomplishment.
Winnie looked at Cait. “Could you make sure my mom gets home safely? I need to stay here and work on the clock. Maybe some other business will find its way here.”
“Sure, Winnie. I’ll see that she gets home safe and sound.”
“I’m not feebleminded, girls,” Elaine complained. “I can ride the bus on my own.”
“No one is saying you are, Mom. It’s just to make sure you don’t fall, or trip over an uneven patch in the sidewalk. Let Cait help.”
Elaine nodded, acquiescing to her daughter’s request. Winnie walked them to the door and saw them on their way, then returned to her work on the clock.
If she could perfect this new method of casting, she might be able to sell Artos the trick, rather than teaching him to do it for free. Dealing with the devil rather than working for him. Something to ponder while she worked.
CHAPTER 9
Winnie got home late.
She set her backpack on the kitchen table and settled onto a chair, looking at the room with a tired, vacant stare. She was exhausted. Drained of energy. Winnie had found that she could work the spell flows, repairing the magical mechanism that helped Mrs. Adams keep track of her husband and family. But altering the charm so the flows were inverted — essentially turned inside to present no outward sign of their existence — was much harder.
Part of the problem was that the original spell wasn’t her own. If it had been, Winnie felt reasonably certain that the process wouldn’t be quite so taxing. But now she was untangling a complicated knot tied by someone else, only to then re-tie it in exactly the same way with her eyes closed. She relished the challenge and had stayed late to finish the job.
Now home, Winnie wondered if she was more tired or hungry. Like usual, when she got tied up with work, Winnie had forgotten to eat. She had to get something in her stomach before going to bed.
She opened a cupboard and looked for something to tide her over until morning. Everything looked gross. She opened her mother’s cupboard, filled with carb-heavy snacks that Winnie didn’t usually enjoy, or enjoyed a bit too much. But right now, a few crackers or maybe some pretzels might do the job.
It was behind a box of Raisin Bran that she found a stack of envelopes bound with a rubber band. She reached back, retrieved the envelopes from their hiding place, then pulled them out to look. She removed the rubber band and sorted through the ten or eleven letters. They all came from a specialty pharmacy her mother used to get her arthritis medication.
Why was her mother keeping — and hiding — these letters?
Winnie took the first letter from the top, slid the single sheet out of the already opened envelope, unfolded it, and skimmed. Grim-faced, she replaced the letter into the envelope and selected another one, working her way through them all, one at a time.
They all agreed: the medication controlling the progression of Mom’s arthritis was tripling in price, starting next month. The letters dated back six months, the pharmacy giving her mother plenty of notice before the pending price change.
Winnie’s mother hadn’t told her because she was trying to protect her from worrying about something else she couldn’t control. Her mother’s medication was their biggest monthly expense, eclipsing even the rent. Now it would double in price, without any apparent reason. And she had no idea how they could possibly afford it. They were barely getting by. This would bankrupt them, or kill her mother.
Winnie’s shoulders seemed to gain a thousand pounds. The world was caving in around her. Resolution 84 destroyed her ability to earn a living. It made magic — something that defined who she was — illegal. She’d persevered and discovered a way to get by without being a criminal. That had been her only lifeline in the last twenty-four hours. But now her only hope was gone. Even if Winnie managed to keep her shop open, she’d never earn enough money to make ends meet. Her six months of buffer earned on that last day before the resolution was consumed in a single moment of despair.
She sat in silence, staring at the envelopes for an hour. Her entire life was falling apart, and her flailing hands couldn’t hold it together. She ran through her options but found no answers. Her mind kept returning to Mrs. Adams’s clock, and Winnie had to wonder why. Repairing magical items for the wealthy wouldn’t generate the income required to cover her mother’s medication. What she was missing?
Her eyes welling with tears, Winnie reached into her pocket for a tissue and found something else. A business card with only a name and a number: A. Merrilyn.
Winnie didn’t remember anyone giving it to her. Artos hadn’t handed her anything during his visit, yet here it was. She looked at the plain white card, turning it over in her hand. It was the same on both sides.
Winnie did have an option, but she couldn’t share it with her mother. She wasn’t sure what else she could do. She supposed she could take a part-time job somewhere else. There had to be something, anything better than working directly for Artos Merrilyn. Carefully folding the letters from the pharmacy, she took the envelopes and returned them to their hiding place.
She had a choice to make and wasn’t sure how to proceed. Maybe she could sleep on it, get some perspective on how to approach this problem so she could plan better when fresh in the morning.
Winnie grabbed her backpack, picked the business card from the kitchen table, slid it back into her pocket, then went to her room and slipped into bed.
She could face this again in the morning.
And then, everything would change.
CHAPTER 10
Winnie’s phone buzzed and woke her from a troubled sleep.
Going to bed with her mind occupied by a jumble of emotions and thoughts had led to some bizarre dreams that she couldn’t completely recall. Winnie could remember pushing her mother through a desert in one dream, her wheelchair constantly sinking into the shifting sands. In another, she saw the chanter girl killed at the nightclub a few nights before. Her mouth was moving, as if desperate to tell Winnie something.
The dreams were disturbing, but still better than the reality of waking up to face the day knowing she couldn’t support her mother. Winnie sat up in bed, then slid to the edge and planted her feet on the cold floor. She had to face the day, and the changes in her life that were sure to come with it. Today’s biggest challenge was to maintain control over her life despite the need to ask someone for help.
Elaine was already up and bustling in the kitchen, making herself breakfast, when Winnie entered the room. They traded smiles.
“Morning, Mom.”
“Good morning, dear. What’s the plan today? Are you planning to work at the shop?”
“Yes, I have to call Mrs. Adams and let her know the clock is finished.”
“You finished? Were you able to fix all the things she wanted you to?”
“I stayed late getting it done. Sorry I wasn’t here for dinner.” Winnie wondered if she should mention finding the letters, but didn’t bother to open her mouth. Elaine would have told her if she wanted Winnie to know. Obviously, she was trying to protect her daughter from the truth. But if Winnie’s plan worked, she’d be able to legally pay for the medication while telling her mother that the income came from the shop.
“I left you a plate in the fridg
e. Did you see it?”
“I was exhausted when I got home. Went straight to bed.”
“Maybe I can come in with you again today?
“I don’t think that would be a good idea, Mom. I have a few errands to run, and some things to pick up around the city before I go in. I’ll send you a message when I get to the shop, so you know I got in alright, okay?”
“What about breakfast? You should eat something if you’re going to insist on working these long hours.”
“I’ll grab something on the way.” Winnie picked up her backpack, shrugging it onto her shoulders as she headed toward the door. “I’ll let you know what I’m up to, and try to make sure I get home earlier tonight.”
“Alright, dear. Have a good day. Stay safe.”
Winnie left the apartment and descended the stairs. Once on the street and out of sight away from Mom’s window, she pulled out Merrilyn’s card from her pocket. It was time to dance with the devil without losing her soul.
Winnie waited at the bus stop, deeply inhaling the crisp morning air.
With a gulp, she typed out a text to the number requesting an appointment for later that day, hoping that Merrilyn’s interest in her work would translate into an agreement to meet. Then she lost her nerve and erased it.
The bus dropped her off a few blocks from Charmed. Winnie looked at the small handful of other chanter-owned businesses lining the street. Middling owners were opening their doors, but the chanter businesses all remained shuttered. Winnie knew every one of those owners. She wondered what they were doing to remodel their businesses. Surely they weren’t all lucky enough to land an opportunity like the one presented by Mrs. Adams just a few days before. Maybe there was a way to parlay her successful business transformation and help the other neighborhood merchants.
Mrs. Paulson was out in front of her flower shop arranging a display when Winnie walked up. The middling-owned business was second generation and next door to Charmed — Winnie had known the woman forever.