Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
I want to spill the whole story. Take her hand, and go into a coffee shop and tell her everything. Make her my best friend and ask her for advice.
But I can already tell I’ve confused her. I can already see her mind spinning with questions. And I’ve said too much. So I take a closer look at the topper in my hand and chuckle. “Is this made of godsmetal?”
The tern-woman smiles at me. “Yes! Most people think it’s silver, but it’s not. You’re right, it’s godsmetal.” That’s when she focuses on my collar and the lead I’m clutching in my hand. “My lady! Are you wearing it too?”
I nod, slightly embarrassed that I have finery like this when I shouldn’t. “It’s my master’s, of course.” I say this plainly, dismissing the subject, and then change the subject altogether. “I want that bottle.” I set the topper down on the wooden counter. “But I must go find my master and come back so he can pay.”
“Of course you must.” She curtseys at me, flaring out her beautiful, pointed wings in a sign of reverence. “I’ll be here all day, my lady.”
I leave the shop quickly, heading back in the direction of where I started. But as I leave, it occurs to me that bottle magic is real. Bottle magic has always been real. And this little shop is proof.
Was it… forgotten magic? Is that why it felt like a strange power when I became certain it was my gift?
I’m just about to ponder this more thoroughly but that’s when I see Eros already coming to find me. He’s clutching a book and he holds it up when he spots me through the crowd. Once he and I are close enough to speak without shouting, he says, “I found what we need.”
And I say, “I found the perfect bottle.” I point to the little shop where the tern-girl is putting it back into the display window, sans topper, once again.
Eros stares in that direction for a long moment. Like he’s appreciating all the pretty mercury glass in the window. Or… the girl. Or them both.
“Eros?”
“Huh?” He tears his gaze away from the window and looks at me. “What?”
“Everything OK?”
He looks back at the window. “I don’t think we need those bottles.”
“What do you mean?”
“Choose something else, Callistina.”
“No. Why? I mean no. This is the right bottle. I feel it in my bones. We need that one right there.” I point to the bottle that was just put back in place.
He sighs, looking at me. “It’s a quicksilver bottle, for fuck’s sake. Quicksilver isn’t something we should fuck with. Whenever you do a spelling with quicksilver the outcome is volatile. Anything could happen.”
“Well, that’s good! Creating doors is no small thing, Eros. We’re basically ripping a hole in time and space. We need to amplify our spell. Do you want to spend days here letting the potion cook? Because it will take days, at least. I’m rusty and we have no idea what we’re doing. We need all the help we can get.”
He looks at the bottle again, still unsure. “Callistina—”
“It could be weeks, Eros.” I say this with all the seriousness I can muster. “Weeks.” I need that bottle. I’m not sure why I have this compulsion, but it’s there. And I’m not going to give up.
Eros and I stare at each other for several long seconds, then he sighs, and relents. “Fine.” And plucks a piece of godsmetal off my veil. “It’s going to cost a fortune.”
“Should we care?” I ask, walking back in the direction of the shop with him. “I mean, we’re leaving, right? We should spend it all.”
Once again he lets out a long breath. Something is wrong.
“Did you find a spell?” I ask.
He holds up the book, just as we arrive at the door to the glass shop. “Yes. All we need is a magiceutical shop now.” He points to the ground. “Wait here.” Then he opens the door, goes inside, and I watch from the window as he purchases the magnificent bottle.
When he comes out, he hands me a small, wooden crate with a raw-rope handle and takes the godsmetal lead in exchange. Then we walk down the road, my master and me, and I don’t care about anything but the surging happiness flooding my heart.
I love this place. Love it. And if I could stay, I’d come back and make friends with the tern-girl. We would have coffee together regularly. We would meet up for dinners. And go out at night with men. And gossip about what people are wearing.
What kind of beastly man would I date?
Well, the fantasy crashes there. Because honestly, I would only want to stay if Eros would. And he won’t. Plus, this would never happen. As much as I think I fit in here, I don’t. I’m different.