He didn’t seem bothered by her slow descent, only stood nearby and continued to stare at her—which increased the pressureandtime it took for her to exit without showing how much her legs ached. But the moment she was clear of the cart, it took off down the street, and Kizros was leading her to the door.
“I’ve run this shop for twelve years now. Threw everything I had into the building and the start-up materials. Took an apprenticeship when I was eighteen, spent eight years studying the craft with the best, and when he decided to retire, I bought up his inventory and a better location,” he said as he unlocked the door.
Considering Kizros had no qualms about staring at her, Aofe didn’t feel so bad as she watched his hands work the keys. Everything about his movements and shape were all so human-like, it was almost more curious than if he’d been entirely monstrous. Five fingers, an appropriate number of knuckles, and a body that bent in all the right places.
But then there were the things that set him apart. The soft green of his skin, and darker green of his hair and horns. Claw tips that extended from his fingers instead of nails. A tail which, upon closer inspection, was much thinner than Goldy’s and ended in a blunt spade instead of spikes. And she was fairly certain she’d seen him flash a fang before, which had made her unintentionally flinch away.
Though she was almost entirely positive he was harmless, sometimes bodies would react to a perceived threat whether it was truly there or not.
“Take a look,” Kizros said, and even with those black eyes, it was a safe bet to assume he’d meant that as an offer to study himself as well as the now open shop.
Aofe was more brave with his back turned, so she climbed the single stair and stepped inside to the chiming bell overhead.
Without the moon and starlight, it was much darker inside, but she could make out the shapes and the reflections of hundreds of glass vials. Plants—not greenery, though she could make out some of that color among the masses—climbed over every surface, tangling with the vials but somehow seeming to cradle them in the darkness rather than threaten their perches.
Light flared behind her, with it a soft warmth, and Aofe whipped around. Kizros stood in the doorway—which seemed massive around even his large frame—a small whiteish-yellow light glowing from hispalm. He reached overhead, and that light left his hand, pulsing out from the ceiling and spreading wide to illuminate the shop.
“How did you do that?” Aofe gasped, staring at his non-glowing hand as he lowered it. “Magic?”
He frowned, stared at his palm, then brought another light to its surface. Just as quickly, he squeezed his hand and it disappeared. “We all have this gift. There is color variation, depending on our magic, but it is the most basic of our skills.”
None of what he’d just done seemed basic to her. She’d witnessedmagic! And not the destructive kind that she’d been warned human sorcery was, but something beautiful and warm.
“What do you think?” he asked, gesturing behind her.
Aofe had almost forgotten about the interior of the shop, but now she turned to take it in.
A rainbow of color greeted her, from vials to plants to artwork, all stretching in either direction. Deeper to her left, shadowed by the giant shelves, looked to be a workroom door, and to her right was a tall counter where she assumed most people brought their purchases or made requests. The shelving behind that desk was mostly rolls of parchment, but beyond that, she could see another shadowed hallway.
Despite all the glass and breakables, Aofe noticed a glaring oversight she’d had upon learning of his shop.
The aisles were massive.
There was so much space between each shelf; she couldbe comfortable walking between them without fear of bumping anything fragile.
Sinful sugar,of courseit was massive—the demons were huge. And with tails flicking left and right, it was obvious they’d need a little more space to move around.
Kizros hovered behind her, hand rubbing the back of his head. “I know it’s a little small, but?—”
“It’s beautiful,” she said, and truly meant it. Not just because her earlier panic was floating away, but because it really was lovely inside.
“There’s so much color and life in here,” Aofe said, letting go of her crutch to touch one of the purple vines before second guessing that decision. For all she knew, these sorts of things were poisonous to humans.
But to her horror, the vine wiggled and then seemed to unstick itself from the edge of the shelf to reach for her.
She squeaked and jerked back, only to run into a solid chest. Hands folded over her upper arms to steady her, and a rumbling laugh followed.
“It won’t hurt you. They’re just curious,” Kizros said, then removed one of his hands to reach out. The vine undulated as it separated from the shelf, twisting gently over the demon’s fingers—clawless fingers, Aofe noticed—before poking itself toward her again.
“Are you sure I can touch it?” she whispered, dangerously tempted to pet the magical plant regardless. “There’s not something in here that could poison or eat me?”
“Unless it’s from the Dreadmoor, whichI would never have out in the open, everything in the shop should be perfectly safe. Though don’t go chugging anything on that shelf,” he said, pointing toward the back. “Those are particularly strong, even for demons.”
Aofe lifted a finger toward the purple plant, still a little unsteady. The thing seemed to match her tremor, and despite her efforts, the distance didn’t seem to close.
A large green hand slid underneath her forearm, softening the shakiness of her fingers as it took their weight. Almost instantly, the plant connected with her fingers, a cool contrast to the warmth of the demon’s touch.
“This is Tim, an iostritimisannah. Under the right conditions, they can pick up the behavior and intention of who planted them. He’s one of my oldest.”
