Page 13 of The Cursed Chalice
Then I hear it. The sound of a door closing. Huh? I look to my right. Wait, was that alley always there? Who cares? I sprint and halt at the front of a store.
“What a peculiar place…” The door is bright red, richly decorated with intricate wrought scrollwork and flower motifs. It’s beautiful. The wooden door looks aged, but that just gives it character. There are two lanterns hanging on the side. The name that appears above says “Wanderlust Emporium.” It looks so old and Gothic. I can’t see inside the store; it’s just a mismatch of books and items surrounding each other in organized chaos.
I reach for the handle, and I pause, glancing up. A stained-glass panel crowns the doorway, catching the light. In the center,a painted chalice seems to float midair… an illusion of glass and sunlight. It’s beautiful.
“Where did she go?”
That smacks me back into the present. I push the door and enter.
“Welcome to the Wanderlust Emporium. Look around and see what speaks to you.” A voice calls out from behind all the knickknacks and thingamabobs.
I wring my hands together. “Um, hi. I need help. I just need to hide.”
“Hmm.”
I look around the store closely, and then I realize, no…these are antiques. My heart leaps for joy. Oh, the things I can discover here! Maybe after this is all done. I can come back…help her organize her stuff.
A tall Black woman in pinstripe pants and a white shirt comes out. Her hair is dark, voluptuous, and bouncy. Her eyes were doe-like, but they looked…I don’t know, ancient.
“You want to hide?”
“Please don’t throw me out. I can’t pay. But I can give you my ring.” I slide the engagement ring off. It’s a flawless emerald-cut diamond flanked by two sharp baguette diamonds and set in platinum. Its screams, “My fiancé has money.”
The woman looks down at the ring, takes it, and sighs.
“Hmm.” That’s all she says as she stands close to the front door.
I begin to step back, and my puffy dress almost knocks over a box with a beautiful necklace. I bend to pick it up.
“Leave it. Come stand by me, child. They can’t see you.” The lady dip her hands in her pockets.
I pick up my dress and move beside her.
One photographer stops in front of the store with Elias’s head of security at his side.
I clutch my throat, and to my surprise, they don’t see us.
“Where the fuck is my bride?” I step a little as I hear Elias’s voice.
“Please hide me,” I whisper, my fingers tightening around the dress.
“They can’t see us, child.” I watch as Elias turns the corner of the alleyway, heading straight toward the store.
As he stops, his hand grazes against the door.
“Hmm, he is a different one, isn’t he?” The lady says. Eventually, they all leave. Only Elias looks back, but someone calls his name, and he continues walking.
My shoulders drop as I release air out of my lungs. “Thank you, Miss…”
“Moira.”
“Thank you, Miss Moira. Can I wait here for a few minutes, please?”
Moira nods. “Of course, but I encourage you to look around and see what speaks to you.”
I smile shyly. “Your whole store calls to me.”
“What do you do for work?” She asks as she pushes past a sarcophagus. To an untrained eye, it looks like a prop, but with the gold setting and the hieroglyphs, I am 99% sure it’s real.
