Page 18 of Soulbound Shadows: Part 1

“Here,” I said, jabbing the page with my finger. “I knew I’d heard that phrase before.”

“‘A method that may be used by a skilled practitioner of those most sacred arts of divination for glimpsing the intentions of fortune,’” Gabriel read aloud. “‘Called by those most archaic of mages by many names, such as the glimpse of the wheel, the fís cinniúint, or…’” He paused, looking up at me. “‘The echo of fate.’ It’s a spell?”

“It’s a spell,” I confirmed. “I don’t usually mess around with divination magic, but this could be exactly what we need right now.”

I pulled the book back toward myself, then grabbed my notebook and jotted down a few things. “We’re going to need components,” I said. “Most of these should be pretty easy to find, but a few will be a bit trickier. Luckily for us, I think I know someone who can help set us on the right track.”

The walk to Pumpernickel’s Potions and Provisions left me with a jittery feeling in my stomach. It was still raining, and Gabriel had insisted on offering me his umbrella. I’d told him I wouldn’t make him walk in the rain, and we’d somehow ended up sharing, crammed together to escape the rain. The humidity had puffed up his hair, and it made him look softer, younger. Vampires stopped aging at twenty-two, but they tended to get a certain gravity to them, like all their years added up into a weight they had to carry. It was the first time I’d seen Gabriel look less put-together, and it suited him. I couldn’t help but wonder if his hair was as soft as it looked.

A collection of silver bells jangled cheerfully when we entered Pumpernickel’s Potions and Provisions. As always, the place was completely chaotic. Bundles of dried plants hung from the rafters, and the many shelves were cluttered with colorful potions, shiny stones, books, bones, and antiques both magical and mundane. The counter was barely visible beneath piles of embroidered fabric, a large brass cauldron, and a stack of books. On one end of the counter sat a large velvet cat bed, completely covered in white fur. A massive cat was flopped inside, her legs hanging over the edges. She looked like a royal surveying her kingdom.

Pumpernickel’s was always overwhelming, like someone had tried to condense two antique stores, a used bookstore, a living room, and a particularly chaotic craft supply store into the same small space. I loved it, but I also tried to make sure I never spent longer than ten minutes there in one go. It was the sort of place that you needed to brace yourself before going into, like Trader Joe’s on a Sunday afternoon.

I reached out a hand for the cat to sniff, and she looked at me with regal disdain before deigning to inspect my palm. With that done, she slammed her head against my fingers for some petting.

“Gotta say hi to Her Ladyship,” I explained to Gabriel as the cat began to purr so loudly that two of the glass bottles on the countertop began to vibrate against each other.

A clatter came from the back of the shop, and Mrs. Pumpernickel bustled out from between the tall dusty shelves, holding a vase of peacock feathers in one hand, and what looked like a miniature set of bagpipes in the other. She was a very short woman, with a head of silver curls and a pleasant, broad face, like a patchouli-scented Miriam Margolyes. She wore about a dozen shawls, and tiny, round glasses that were trying to slip down her nose.

“Welcome, welcome!” she said. “Evangeline, have you finally brought a young man to meet your darling auntie?” She set the vase of feathers down on the counter, which made Her Ladyship perk up with malicious intent. I moved the vase to a high shelf, and the cat glared at me, so enraged she fell asleep at once.

“We aren’t related,” I pointed out, but she waved a dismissive hand.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be your auntie, child,” Mrs. Pumpernickel said, tossing the small bagpipes onto the counter, where they let out a droning wheeze. “Now, what can I get for you and your gentleman friend? Something to spice things up, perhaps? Stamina potions are over by the stuffed alligator. Or perhaps a temporary shapeshifting draught? Better than a costume when you feel like getting up to some special hanky-panky!”

“It’s not—We’re not together,” I said firmly. “Just working a case.”

“No hanky-panky involved,” Gabriel agreed, looking slightly dazed. Mrs. Pumpernickel tended to have that effect on people.

“We’re looking for some components for a ritual,” I explained, showing her the list I’d scribbled down in my notebook. She pushed her glasses up her nose and scanned the list, humming to herself.

“You’ve come to the right place, my dear.” She bustled out from behind the counter and darted from shelf to shelf, scooping things into her arms. “Now, I can’t get you all of this,” she said over her shoulder. “I’m all out of black walnut hulls, and lambency ichor doesn’t last long once it’s been gathered, so you’ll need to get that fresh. But you should be able to get everything you need in the woods on the outskirts of the Garden District.”

She elbowed the pile of embroidered fabric out of the way and set everything down on the counter, then grabbed a small square of paper from the pile. When she tapped it, it unfolded into a map of the Garden District, complete with the nearby woods. She began to scribble on the map.

“If you follow this route, my darlings, you should be able to collect everything you need in barely any time at all. Now, I’ll have all these things delivered to your office, and of course, it’s on the house. I couldn’t possibly take your money. You must stop by again to tell me how everything goes. I’ll make tea!” She said all of it without stopping to take a breath.

“You’re the best, Mrs. P,” I said.

“I know, my darling. I know.” Her eyes twinkled as she beamed up at me. “Now, off with you! The rain’s finally cleared up, and there’s no point in wasting daylight.”

The city streets seemed almost shockingly peaceful compared to the sheer sensory overload of the shop. I took a second to catch my breath, and Gabriel did the same.

“She seems…” he began, then trailed off.

“Like a lot?”

“Like a force of nature,” he agreed. “Is she always like that?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” I told him. “She’s usually way chattier.”

Gabriel shot me a quietly horrified look that startled a laugh out of me.

“I know, right? But she knows everybody, and she knows where to find all sorts of stuff. I’m not a hundred percent sure she isn’t some sort of criminal kingpin. I’m pretty certain she could run this city.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Gabriel said.

“Even though she’s not a vampire?” I asked, unable to resist needling him a little.

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