"The Collector seeks resonance, little sparrow!" He tapped the tarot cards scattered across her table. "Look with eyes that see patterns, not individual cards!"
Delilah glanced down. The cards had somehow rearranged themselves while she wasn't looking. They formed a perfect circle—each showing paired figures facing a looming shadow.
"I didn't do that," she whispered.
"Of course not! The universe has been screaming at you, but you've been listening with your ears instead of your heart!" Elder Thornberry picked up Jinxie, who surprisingly allowed it. "The cat knows. Animals always know first."
The pendulum was still writing: P-A-I-R-S-M-A-K-E-P-O-W-E-R.
"Pairs make power," Delilah read aloud. "The Collector wants pairs. Magical pairs."
"Bingo!" Elder clapped his hands. "And what makes the strongest magical pairing of all?"
The answer clicked into place like a key turning in a lock.
"Oh no," Delilah breathed. "It's not just artifacts. It's people."
Elder Thornberry scurried around Delilah's shop like a caffeinated squirrel, pulling items from shelves she didn't even know existed. Jinxie had retreated to the highest bookshelf, tail puffed to twice its normal size as she watched the chaos unfold below.
"The universe speaks in patterns!" Elder declared, dumping an armful of questionable ingredients onto her reading table. "But sometimes it needs a megaphone!"
Delilah eyed the growing pile with mounting horror. "Is that a preserved newt? Where did you even find that in my shop?"
"Behind the tax returns from 1987! Very clever hiding spot." He beamed, extracting what appeared to be a jar of purple sludge from his voluminous coat pocket. "Now, for proper vision enhancement, we need essence of moonlight collected during a leap year eclipse."
"I don't have?—"
"Found it!" He pulled open a drawer she'd never noticed before, producing a small vial of shimmering liquid.
Delilah pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's my special occasion perfume."
"Even better! The nose knows what the eyes can't see!" He uncorked it and poured it into a mortar, adding three pinches of something that smelled suspiciously like cinnamon. "Now hold still."
Before she could protest, he dabbed the mixture behind her ears.
"I feel ridiculous," she muttered.
"Ridiculous is just the doorway to revelation!" Thornberry spun in a circle, humming that strange melody she'd heard before. "The third eye opens widest when pickled beets are applied to the earlobes! Or was it pickled beats? Musical beats? Rhythmic temporal anomalies?"
He stopped suddenly, staring at her crystal ball. "No, no, all wrong. Crystal balls are so last century. We need something with more oomph!"
The shop looked like a magical tornado had touched down. Tarot cards clung to the ceiling in bizarre patterns. Rune stones spelled out what appeared to be a recipe for banana bread along the baseboards. A cloud of glitter hung suspended in the air, occasionally forming shapes that resembled dancing wolves.
"Elder, I appreciate the help, but?—"
"Aha!" He produced a dusty bottle from inside a hollow book. "Essence of Foresight! Guaranteed to clear psychic blockages or your money back!"
Delilah squinted at the faded label. "This is peppermint schnapps from 1962."
"The vintage makes it potent!" He poured a generous amount into her teacup, still humming that haunting melody. The liquid shimmered strangely in time with his tune. "Three sips, no more, no less. The middle sip is the most important!"
"I'm not drinking ancient schnapps at ten in the morning."
Elder Thornberry looked at her with suddenly clear, piercing eyes. "The Collector gathers pairs, Delilah Hart. Time is a luxury you no longer possess."
Something in his tone made her hesitate. The melody he hummed seemed to resonate with the liquid, making it pulse with an inner light.
"Fine," she sighed, lifting the cup. "But if I go blind, you're explaining it to my insurance company."
