“It can wait.”
“No, I don’t think it can.” She thumbed through icons on her phone and pulled up one that saidHeadwaters.
It was still noisy in the joint. Tennessee Ernie Ford was singing about what sixteen-tons will get you. Lula pressed her phone to one ear, cupping the other ear.
My hearing wasn’t as good as hers, but I could make out the ringing, then the slight click of the call going through.
“This is Gauge,” Lula said, using her last name as she had from the beginning of working for the mysterious art and magic collector.
A pleasant man’s voice asked her to hold, didn’t wait for her reply, and then left the call silenced.
Tennessee had one fist of iron and one made of steel. By the time he was really belting out how much he owed the company store, the call clicked again.
A woman’s voice said, “Thank you for holding, Gauge. Headwaters hasn’t heard from you in over three months. While you are an excellent contact, we can find another source. Your services, while being exemplary, are no longer needed. The last transaction will be the final transaction.”
Chills washed over me and my stomach went sour. Those were the exact words Eunice had told me Headwaters would say.
“Unless,” the voice went on, “you are still interested in working with us.”
Lu’s shoulders were tight, but her voice was emotionless when she answered. “The terms of our agreement are still adequate. There is no time frame on our transactions. I was unaware that had changed.”
“It hasn’t,” the woman said quickly. “Headwaters is pleased with your professionalism and excellent procurement abilities. There is no desire on our part to alter the agreement.”
The woman waited for Lu to say something. To agree or offer a nicety. Lu didn’t speak.
The woman cleared her throat. “There is an item Headwaters is seeking. Of course, we are making you the offer first, but if you refuse, we will approach other contractors.”
Lu still didn’t speak. There was power in silence. Power in patience.
“If you aren’t interested?” The woman volleyed.
“What item?” Lu asked, still in that flat, emotionless tone.
“A book. A very rare book. It is said to have unique qualities.”
Unique qualities was code for magic.
There were a lot of magic books in the world. As a matter of fact, any ordinary book in the right reader’s hands was magic. A book was a portal to other lands, other lives. It was a private connection, a shared living with people who could not be found anywhere else.
It was an answer to yearning, sustenance to the heart, a balm to the spirit.
But there were some books that were made to carry the hidden knowledge of magic.
My gut clenched, because I knew which rare book with unique qualities they had to be looking for.
“How would I recognize it?” Lu asked.
“It was written for the gods.”
“This isn’t our agreement. Headwaters buys what I find. I’m not a dog who plays fetch for anyone.”
“You will be rewarded. Three times your going rate, if you can find the book.”
Lu waited.
“Five times,” the woman corrected.
That was a lot of money. Enough Lu wouldn’t have to sell magical items for a year or more. But we both knew what book Headwaters wanted, and we had already promised it to a god.
