Page 43 of Warlocks Don't Win
That was the question. Actually, I knew exactly what I had to do. I pulled the bottle of furniture polish out of my bag like a trophy. “Now we find the missing way door and retarget it to Singsong. We need the house’s blessing. I need to research more about sentient houses than I can find here. I need to get to the Library of Antiquities, and I need to do it without Winston or anyone else.” Was Portalia really part of a dark society? Someone in Singsong had told someone here that I was coming. But to knock on my front door? So bold. Like her hot pink turban.
I found a bottle of King Crown elixir in the pantry and drank while polishing. It was like old times, only I was the one singing and weaving while I polished the house into submission.
Chapter
Fifteen
Parody looked up from her crossword puzzle and nodded at me when I came into the shop from upstairs, still buzzed from Crown elixir and possibly vodka.
The brunette said, “I just got a delivery of headdresses. The guy said you ordered them, but he seemed iffy. Also, where are you going to put them in your shop? Also, who is going to buy fifty Armenian headdresses?”
I smiled at her. Finally, Old Tippet came through on the headdresses Ms. Sultry had asked me to source months ago. Iffy was one word for him. “I have a buyer lined up, I’ll just get a nice, beautiful cut.” It felt so good to be home! I wanted to go through the boxes and make sure all the inventory was good, but I had to go to the library of antiquities for research. I could stop in the laboratory while I was there. Boom. Business and duty in one fell swoop. I had to hurry back before the house got antsy and devoured my shop or something. Maybe it would curse someone else in Singsong City.
“Did my mom tell you when she was coming back?” Parody’s brown eyes were worried.
I hesitated. “She was in an accident,” I said as I walked towards her slowly. “Didn’t you get the news?”
She blinked at me slowly while she searched her memories. “Right. She’s…dead?”
I sighed and nodded. Her face went all tight and blotchy. We all needed therapy. So much. The next time I went into the family mausoleum, I was going to take two bottles of vodka and get thoroughly drunk with my father. We’ve got to build these bonds somehow.
I slipped out of the shop, feeling the bindings from Sage House growing to fill the confines of my shop. It would be part of Sage House, more than just a way door. That’s the deal the house gave me if it showed me the lost way door and helped me link it to Singsong City in my shop. There was no going back. If I wanted to leave the house, I’d have to leave Change Your Stripes, too.
It was risky, considering that it had cursed Dame Winston, although I still wasn’t sure how it could have done that. Also why it would have targeted her. That’s why I was headed to the library. The house had its secrets and wouldn’t be spilling them any time soon.
The feel of Singsong was like the beat of blood in my veins. People I knew nodded at me, not like I was the epitome of bad fashion choices, but like I was part of the city, like the Granite or the Cat’s Pause.
I breathed deeply and walked in time to the lamps humming the Singsong City theme. I’d missed my city. I walked more quickly, picking up on the energy around me. Something was always happening in the city, the darkness, the light, eternal conflict that kept you on your toes.
It didn’t take long to get to the broad steps that led to the tall doors of the Library of Antiquities. At the front desk, the Librarian herself was there, chatting with another clerk.
“I just need you to watch the desk for a second while I get my order, but don’t look away from these books. Also, you haveto spell them the entire time. You can spell a basic dark tome, right?” She frowned at the thin clerk with large glasses and goggly eyes. I would bet that he had no idea how to spell a dark tome.
I spoke up. “Before you take off, could you direct me to your section on animate bastions? If you have anything about how sentient houses can curse people of their own volition, that would be a bonus.”
The blonde woman straightened up, eying me like I was a challenge. “Stripes, right? Your shop’s gone rogue? That’s usually demon possession or a poltergeist when buildings get active.”
I shook my head and glanced at the clerk. Soon everyone would know my business in Salem. “Hardly demonic, although sometimes I wonder. No, it’s Sage House, in Salem, built on the bones of the burned. It cursed the voice of Bosty coven.”
She stared at me. “Like an actual specific curse?”
“Moridia Fleur. Do you know it?”
She grinned at me. “I do. Fancy. You have a house that curses people with death spells? Death spells are something of a specialty of mine.”
“You’re a neutral magic user?”
She waved a hand airily. “Any magic user can use spells from any quadrant if they have enough focus. Also other things I won’t bore you with. Tell you what. You go pick up my sushi order, and I’ll gather up a few tomes that might be of interest to you. What languages can you read?”
“English, Russian, Demonic, Latin, and some Celtic.”
She raised a brow. “That’s enough for a solid start. The order’s under Libby.” She turned and headed for the large stairs curving between two statues, an angel and a demon. She looked perfectly at home between them both, particularly with a demonic tome in one hand dripping darkness and misery.
I flashed a smile at the clerk and then spun, my striped coat catching the air nicely. If I was going to have green and purple stripes for the rest of my life, I could do something with that. They were my two favorite colors, and worked together well. I could have a consistent style. I could get a purple and green striped awning over the shop front.
I practically skipped down the steps, heading for the shop kitty-corner to the library. The Cat’s Pause. It was the weirdest shop in Singsong, but that was mostly the piano bar at the end. Sushi addicts were usually tied to the darker side of magic, and darkness created the music of chaos. I didn’t mind that, having been raised by the music of chaos. The librarian was right about spells being universal if you had the will.
Moridia Fleur was a dark spell. I guess it was fancy. It was such a relief to talk to someone who specialized in death spells. I crossed the street and headed inside the door, setting the bell jangling while I angled for the counter. Rynne was standing there, looking slightly out of place in the pressed officer’s uniform. That’s right, they’d made her sergeant or something after the rest of the possible candidates had died. Hopefully I didn’t say that out loud.
