I mean, I wouldprobablydo what he said. But only probably.
“Good.” And with that, he pressed his hand against the front door of the shop.
My breath froze in my lungs as my eyes swept across the interior of the shop. At once, the tension that gripped my shoulders loosened just the slightest of notches. I wasn’t entirely sure what I’d expected—blood dribbling down the walls, maybe. Skeletons waiting to drop from the ceiling. Jars of thumbs and eyeballs.
But Grim looked…surprisingly normal, as far as magical shops in the land of the fae could look normal. Homemade wooden shelves had been propped up along each wall, and they were full of a variety of trinkets, manuscripts, jewellery, and clothes. Along the furthest wall, a long skinny table separated the shop from the keeper’s tiny office. A female fae with bright golden hair sat hunched over some kind of parchment. Her face was about two inches from it, and her tongue was stuck out between her lips.
“If you’re here to cause trouble, you’ll find yourself flat on your backside within seconds.” She ripped her gaze from the parchment and stood a little straighter when she saw me and Rourke hovering by the still-open door. “Oh. Actual visitors. I’m sorry. I thought you were one of those nuisances out there. Well, go on and shut the door. Don’t want to attract their attention, now do we?”
Rourke’s movement was so smooth that I didn’t even see his hand move from the door. The cringes creaked as the heavy wood slammed behind us.
“Come on in and look around. Or is there something particular I can help you with?”
“I’m sorry,” Rourke said, taking a step further into the warm atmosphere of the shop. There was even a crackling blaze in the fireplace. “We’re here to speak with Pan Peelan, the shopkeeper, about an object he may have collected over the years.”
She gave a nod. “I’m Raine. Pan was my father. He got into a bit of a tricky situation with Queen Viola a few years ago, and well, let’s just say that I’ve inherited the shop from him and leave it at that.”
Yikes.Queen Viola strikes again.
“You’re not a Wild Fae,” I finally said. “Are you?”
“Goodness, no.” She laughed and shook her head. “I’ll admit, it’s not the most ideal of locations for the shop, but it’s my father’s legacy, and it’s where everyone knows to look. I live just across the border in the Autumn woods, and I come here to trade at night. Luckily, they leave me alone for the most part.”
Rourke frowned and moved toward the nearest shelf, one that housed a collection of sparkling silver jewellery. Rings and necklaces, bracelets and hair pieces. “How familiar are you with your father’s collection? The item we’re looking for may have passed through here as long as eighteen years ago.”
“Eighteen years ago.” Her voice was flat as she repeated Rourke’s words. “That is a very long time.”
Rourke nodded and moved onto the next shelf. I trailed behind him, my eyes darting to each object, disappointed each time I saw something somewhat stone-like, only to find it was anything but.
“That’s right,” he said.
“I must say, that’s an interesting timeframe,” the shopkeeper said. “And quite specific. Eighteen years, you said. I don’t suppose you could give me a better indication of what it is you’re looking for?”
“It would be a small stone. Dark gray. Perhaps a bit smaller than your hand.”
“I see.” The woman’s eyes flicked from Rourke to me. “Well, there’s nothing like that out front here, but I have a fairly extensive inventory in the back. More specialized items, if you will. Careful not to touch any of that, dear.”
My hand was hovering a mere inch away from a small notebook. A crinkly old thing with pages that were too old and mottled to allow the leather cover to properly shut.
“These are Death Objects. If you touch them, you will extract an essence of the deceased. That one right there belonged to a murderous Wilde Fae. I would avoid that if I were you. Not to mention, it ruins it for sale, and you’d have to purchase it as well.”
My hand dropped like a stone to my side, and the shopkeeper gave me a tight smile.
“I’ll just head into the back to have a look through my inventory. It shouldn’t take too long. Feel free to look around the shop for anything else you might find of interest but remember what I said. No touching the merchandise. I’ll know if you do.”
The shopkeeper disappeared behind a thick golden curtain, and Rourke was by my side within an instant.
I frowned at where the shopkeeper had disappeared. “She’s strange.”
“She’s surrounded by objects imbued with death all day,” he said in a low voice. “Her father was even stranger.”
“Do you think she has it?”
“She certainly seemed to know what I was referencing, though it’s hard to say whether she has her hands on it or not. I must warn you. She may try to give us a lemon. It wouldn’t be the first time Grim attempted to sell a fake. You’re most certainly going to have to test whatever she brings out.”
“How am I going to do that without touching it?”
But Rourke didn’t have a chance to answer. The shopkeeper returned, her lips wide and poking up in the corners. In her gloved hands, she held a small stone that was no larger than my thumb. It didn’t look like anything special. It was dark gray, flat, and perfectly normal. If I’d seen it on the ground, I wouldn’t have even noticed it.
