We reach the steep steps leading up the hill to the store, and the infrequent streetlamps choose this moment to flicker out. My heart quakes once; oh, the familiar stench of fear. I squeeze Valentina’s hand tightly, and we creep up the stairs, walking lightly. There is a big tree in front of the store; its branches spread outward in a silent supplication to the sky. It must look beautiful during the day, but right now, it is sinister. Still, it casts deep shadows that shelter us from the eyes of the middle worlders we see standing in front of the conjury store.

Two not-human middle worlders are having an intense conversation while eight scaled creatures stand beside them. Four of these scaled creatures have blue scales (or what looks like blue in the semidarkness), and four have silver scales. We’re far enough away for them to not notice us and close enough to make out some of their words.

“… a coincidence. How did you know this shop sells conjuries?” one not-human middle worlder says to the other one.

“We’re… keeper… here.” Valentina and I straighten when we hear the words. We don’t need to fill in the blanks to understand who the middle worlder is talking about. “The Dar’s servants… smell… conjury.” Well, that’s bad news.

“Where’s the shopkeeper?” Baarish’s servant has thin lips and narrow eyes.

“He isn’t in town,” the other middle worlder replies.

“That’s too bad. If he returns, have someone remove him.” Is “remove” a euphemism for murder? Because that’s what it sounds like.

“Set the place on fire. Everything in the store must burn,” the other middle worlder commands the blue-scaled creatures. I’d like to see them reduce the aluminum, iron, and steel to ashes. “Can we help you hunt down the keeper as thanks for informing us about this conjury store?”

“Please,” Baarish’s servant replies.

“It’s the least we can do. Our master considers Baarish a close friend. If you’ll follow me, I will take you to dinner at the mansion, and tomorrow morning, we’ll begin our hunt.” The middle worlder nods at the blue-scaled creatures and turns to go, and Baarish’s servant and the silver-scaled minions follow him. We duck behind the tree trunk and stand still, not even daring to breathe when they pass the tree. Nonetheless, both middle worlders stop; we hear their footsteps cease. My arm itches unbearably at this moment.

Someone steps closer to the tree and I ready my scream. At this moment, there’s an explosion inside the store, and the place catches fire. Whoever was trying to look into the shadows of the tree changes their mind, and we hear the sound of people walking away quickly.