Page 24 of Secrets of the Eternal Flame

Eva’s tail wagged.

‘Well, hopefully, she’ll like the ice cream and I’ll have another loyal customer. Are you on holiday here? I don’t remember seeing you before.’

‘Enough small talk already,’ Gwen grumped.

I sent the ice-cream vendor an apologetic smile. ‘I live here but I’ve been away for a while. I take it you’re here regularly?’ Gwen gave an audible huff.

‘Every day the sun shines.’ The young woman grinned. ‘And some days it doesn’t!’

Because Gwen was being so damned rude, I made a point of reading the woman’s name tag. ‘Then I’m certain we’ll see you again. Thanks so much, Fran!’

I paid the extortionate amount for the ice creams and we walked the short distance to Gwen’s store. She muttered under her breath the whole way but I ignored her litany of complaints and licked my ice cream, which was divine. Outside the door, I put the two tubs of doggy ice cream down on the pavement for Eva, who attacked them enthusiastically.

When I’d finished my cone, I followed Gwen into Grimoires and Goblets. As I stepped inside, and looked around, my heart sank.

Now I understood exactly what Yanni’s problem had been.

Chapter Fifteen

It appeared that Grimoires and Goblets didn’t just sell grimoires and goblets: it sold anything and everything. Judging by the amount of stock, not to mention the cobwebs that were clinging to the ceiling, the last time the place had had a proper clear out was when Gwen’s great-great-grandad Gothering had been in charge.

I stood frozen in the doorway; I wasn’t a neat freak by any measure but this place took the biscuit. There was stuff everywhere, and I worried that if I put my foot in the wrong place it would set off aMousetrapseries of consequences that culminated in me being trapped under an oversized basket.

There were glass cabinets and wooden bookshelves against the walls and every one was crammed. There were some dedicated areas – I could see a couple of wooden shelves at the back of the room that were filled with grimoires – but even those were spilling out onto the floor. In some places, more grimoires were stacked onthe carpet, while in others large baskets were filled with wands, candles and crystals. Others were filled with goblets – hammered goblets, glass goblets, china goblets, novelty goblets, ceremonial goblets, crystal goblets, carved goblets. The place certainly deserved its name.

Despite the grime, I could have spent hours exploring. I’d already seen a box of magic wands that I was keen to dig into; I’d never been much of a wand user, and both my parents’ wands had been broken in the battle with my grandmother, but now that I was getting more magic I needed to think seriously about getting one.

‘Okay.’ I took a deep breath. Despite the overwhelming clutter, I needed to start somewhere. ‘Can you show me where the items were taken from? Why don’t we start with the grimoire?’ That was the biggest of the two objects that were missing, so it might be easier to identify any clues to the supposed theft.

‘It was there, in the window.’ Gwen pointed to a spot in the window display. There was a pile of half a dozen books on top of which was an empty book stand. That was something, at least: I knew where it had been, though how long ago it had been taken was anyone’s guess.

I squeezed through the shelves and baskets to the window to get a closer look. ‘How long ago did you say it went missing?’ I fished.

‘You mean, how long ago was it stolen?’ she said pointedly.

‘Right.’ It clearly mattered to Gwen that I believed it had been stolen. If I didn’t get her on my side, there was no way she’d believe me if it turned out that they’d simply been misplaced. ‘How long ago were theystolen?’

‘About a week, more or less,’ she said firmly, her tone still distinctly unfriendly. ‘I’m not very good with days of the week, but you can ask that police officer friend of yours. She knows. I noticed it was missing straight away and I went up to the station immediately to tell her about it. And I told Scarlett, too. She was there that day.’ She rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, ‘Not that she’ll be any help to you – or anyone.’

I ignored her bitchy aside. ‘Scarlett?’

‘My assistant. She’s the laziest fae you’ve ever set your eyes on. If I hadn’t been friends with her grandmother…’

As Gwen continued her character assassination, I inspected the area. There was a thin sheen of dust on everything in the window – except the book stand. Not only that, there was a clean patch that extended beyond the limits of the stand, a thick rectangle of dustless space that could have been attributed to a large book.

‘Can you remind me what wasin the grimoire?’ I asked absently, my head still in the window. ‘What sort of magic and spells did it contain?’

‘Magic?’ she said. ‘It didn’t have any magic, it was a blank! A display model. It had a beautiful cover – black with gold foiling – and there were some lovely gems on the spine. I always thought it was a strange place to decorate a book – why put the gems on the spine and not the cover? But I bet someone saw them and thought they were valuable.’ She snorted. ‘More fool them because they were all paste. I don’t put the good stuff in the window. Even so, that grimoire was one of my favourites – I’ve loved it since I was a kid.’

I remembered Gwen saying that the grimoire was blank; it was another reason why Yanni didn’t think it likely that there’d been an actual theft. With all the real grimoires in the shop, why would someone steal a fake one? Unless, as Gwen said, they thought the gems were real, but if that was the case why would they also steal a worthless coffee mug rather than one of the more valuable goblets?

I squeezed out of the display area and glanced through the glass of the front door. Eva had finished her first tub of ice cream and was starting on the second, half of which had already melted. Not that it would bother her; she’d certainly licked worse. Her own asshole came to mind.

‘Do you have photographs of the stolen objects?’ I asked.

‘I’m not sure,’ Gwen replied. ‘I expect I could dig one out from somewhere but I don’t usually photograph the inventory.’

The bell above the door jingled as someone stepped into the cramped shop. She was a fae, although I couldn’t tell at a glance what type she was. Her ears were large, but not as big as Gwen’s, her face was wrinkle-free and she was dressed for the weather in a strappy top and a skirt.

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