Page 6 of By Rude Strength

The Magic Shop

It was written in red, a fancy script meant no doubt to conjure up visions of fantasy and spells. He couldn’t see much through the windows because of the glare, so he had no idea what the shop actually offered, but he had the oddest urge to go inside. He wasn’t sure what to expect or why he was experiencing such a strange draw, but he was already walking in before he could second-guess himself.

The first thing he noticed was that the door didn’t actually have a bell.

That was odd.

The shop was also much larger than it had any right to be given the diminutive exterior, and LA was a bit mystified as to how that was possible. The ceilings seemed to go on and on, so high that there were ladders about to reach the tallest shelves. That was most puzzling as LA had been certain this building only had one story. There had to be thousands of books, and the musty smell of paper was like a warm blanket, reminding LA of his old school library.

There was a man at the counter and LA knew he was probably the owner of the shop.

No,TheOwner.

The Owner was tall and thin, dressed in a full suit complete with bowtie and top hat. He looked exactly the way LA imagined all magicians did when he was a kid. He would not have been surprised if The Owner pulled a rabbit out of that hat right now. Although he was handsome, there was something off about his eyes…

Too dark, too black, toosomething.

LA shivered.

“Welcome,” The Owner said with a friendly smile. “How may I help you today?”

“Just looking. Thanks.” LA waved his hand as he dove into the nearest aisle to avoid conversation. He wasn’t in the mood.

Hell, he didn’t even know why he’d come in here.

He strolled through the narrow aisles, finding a bounty of herbs, crystals, clothing, and more. He had no idea what he’d hoped to find here among the bundles of dried rosemary and polished quartz crystals, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was somehow exactly where he was supposed to be.

Maybe he’d finally lost his mind.

After all, he’d lost his job, his boyfriend, and his future. He had—

LA paused when a bottle caught his eye.

It was glass, a deep shade of red, and shimmered as if it was full of liquid. Although it had been sitting on the shelf when LA saw it, it was warm as if someone had been holding it recently.

Weird.

He turned the bottle over a few times and decided to buy it.

The red would match the decor in his bedroom and fuck it, he deserved to do something for himself after having the day from fucking hell. Not leaving himself another second to debate such a frivolous purchase, he headed to the front register to check out.

“Ah! A strength potion!” The Owner grinned. “An excellent choice, sir.”

LA snorted. “Is that what it is?”

“Of course! It’s what you need, isn’t it?”

LA wasn’t sure how to answer that, so he only nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

The Owner rang him up with a cheerful hum. He wrapped the bottle up in old newspaper and then reverently tucked it into a small paper bag. He offered it out to LA with a wink. “Be careful now! It’s a powerful one.”

LA took the bag. “Right. So. What do I do with it?”

“Why, you take it home and use it, of course!”

“But how?”

The Owner held out his hand. It was empty, but he rolled his fingers back and a playing card of some kind was now between them as if plucked right out of thin air. He reached over the counter to place the card inside the bag. “Don’t worry. Everything you need is right there!”