Page 60 of The Little Shop of Curiosities Cursed Object 1, The Music Box

Thankfully, it was not an appointment, but still. “Tristan!” I scowl at him. “What the hell are you doing? I have a business to run, you know!”

He breathes heavily, his eyes full of apology. “I’m sorry, I really am, but this is an emergency.”

“What is so important you felt the need to turn up with your sidekick and scare all my customers away?”

“Because there’s a chaos monster trying to get my dad,” he blurts out, and I stare at him in confusion.

A what? “Pardon?”

“Death’s evil twin is a chaos monster with tentacles–”

“Tentacles?” Dusty interrupts, surprised, but he ignores her.

“He’s trying to cross through the magic doorway in the bookshop during a super weird eclipse, and he’s sucking up all the ghosts’ energy so he can make it rain, and he’s trying to scare my dad, plus I think he dropped a tree on my boyfriend.”

I blink slowly as my brain tries to process that spectacular word vomit. Eventually, I edge out from behind the counter and head to the door. Flipping the sign to Closed, I lock the door and lower the blinds.

I really wonder what on earth happened in the short time since I last saw him.

“I think you’d better start from the beginning.”

Tristan draws in a breath. “Okay, so Death has an evil twin, which means that apparently Death is the good guy.”

“I wouldn’t say good exactly,” I muse, “but he is necessary. Everything has its cycle—the seasons, all forms of life, whether it’s plant, animal, or human. You’re born, you live, you die, your soul moves on, it evolves. It’s a delicate balance. Death takes souls whose time it is to move on, so he maintains the balance. It’s his entire purpose. So it stands to reason he’d have an opposite, a counterpart whose purpose is to disrupt that balance.”

“Exactly.” Tristan nods. “Death’s opposite—we call him Chaos—is trapped on the other side of the portal in the bookshop. Bruce once told me the portal opens in shifts due to some sort of alignment.”

“Alignment,” I muse. “Which is what this upcoming eclipse is. Like you said, it’s rare, only occurring a few times a century, and it causes powerful shifts in psychic energy. No wonder Chaos wants to use it to open the portal enough to come through into our world.”

“You’ve been to the bookshop before so you know that–”

“I haven’t,” I interrupt. “Been to the bookshop, I mean.”

“But I thought…” He frowns. “That’s where I first ran into you, the day you dropped your business card.”

“I was just passing by,” I reply carefully, not in any way ready to explain my complicated family connection to Vivienne and her shop.

“Okay. Well, the inside of the bookshop is usually full of spirits, absolutely packed to the rafters.”

“I imagine a congregation of spirits on that scale would cause a huge build-up of psychic energy,” I reply.

“Right,” Tristan agrees. “Anyway, the last two times we’ve been there, all the ghosts had disappeared, and the atmosphere felt really off. The air was heavy but at the same time empty, if you know what I mean.”

“The psychic energy had been drained?” I guess. “That would certainly give Chaos the ability to affect things physically in our world to a certain extent, even if he’s trapped on the other side.”

“That’s what I think he’s doing,”

“Wait a minute.” Dusty holds up a hand. “Back up, boo. What’s this got to do with your dad? Is he okay?”

Tristan blows out a deep breath. “He’s okay. I was at the care home with him an hour ago, and Danny’s still with him now. Lois, one of his carers, said he’s been acting up, seemingly scared for no reason, and not sleeping. We were in his room and I saw this kind of rip in the air. It was black beyond the tear, but there were these tentacle things coming out from it, and the air in the room felt exactly like the bookshop did, kind of dead and empty.” He rubs his forehead and even though his emotions are more muted than most, I can feel waves of worry and frustration rolling off him. “Danny and I think he’s going after anyone who might be able to interfere with him coming through the portal. Keeping me occupied with my dad, forcing Bruce to deal with his death now his remains have been unearthed, and maybe being behind Danny’s accident.”

“That motherfu–”

“Okay.” I cut off Dusty as she looks as if she’s about to launch into an outraged rant. “What’s your plan?”

“Plan?” Tristan repeats.

“Really, Red?” Dusty glares. “Does any of this”—she flips her hand back and forth between her and Tristan—“scream, we have a plan?”