Broken Throne Complete Boxed Set Page 4

  Victor looked up as Winnie emerged from the rear, then stood behind the counter next to the cash register. He fixed her with his best investigator’s stare and crossed the room.

  “Miss Durham, I see you sold most of your merchandise last night. It saddens me that so many of our citizens are enamored with cursed trinkets and utensils.”

  “It was a successful going-out-of-business sale, if such things can be called successful. I made sure that all remaining items in this store are arranged on the shelves for your men to catalog, per your department’s instructions.”

  Victor looked around again, then back at Miss Durham. “I’ll be the judge of whether or not you left everything in plain view as required by law.” He turned to his officers and pointed to the empty shelves. “Start over there and check every single thing in this store that isn’t nailed down. Be sure to look for hidden spaces; I’m sure this place is full of them.”

  Winnie sighed.

  Victor turned his glare on her. “You take offense?”

  “I have nothing to hide, Constable. I assure you, there is nothing left in this store for you to find.”

  Victor shook his head and pointed to the far end of the counter. “We’ll see. Stand over there and don’t interfere. I will check in the back while we wait for inventory out here.”

  He walked through the door behind the counter to a small store room with empty shelves from floor to ceiling on the back wall, and a small roll top desk and chair to his left next to another door. Victor nudged the chair away from the desk with a booted toe then reached over to sort through loose papers on the desk. They appeared to be ordinary items of mail and notes. After a more thorough search of the desk, he stepped away, disappointed to find nothing incriminating.

  He walked over and opened the door to a short, narrow hallway. A brief search revealed a small bathroom with a sink and toilet at one end of the hallway, and a locked door with a deadbolt and chain lock at the other. The open door led to the alley behind the store and a cluster of garbage cans. Finding nothing unusual, Victor walked back down the hallway tapping on wood-paneled walls, listening for signs of hidden openings or loose boards. Dammit. She had to be hiding something. They always had something to hide.

  He was still searching for a hidden room when the female Red Leg officer appeared in the storeroom doorway, standing at full attention.

  “The inventory is complete, sir. The only magically enhanced items we can find are on the shelves out front. Miss Durham has helpfully provided us with a box we can use to remove them from the premises.”

  “Do not consider anything she does as helpful, Officer Bannon. That woman is a chanter. They are, by nature, untrustworthy. Never forget that.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Victor was pleased to see her apparent embarrassment. Perhaps some education on the dangers and harmful effects of Sable addiction on the human body was in order. He’d have to tell his sergeant to arrange it.

  He pushed the chastened officer out of the way and returned to the front of the store. There, he found his other Red Leg standing by the counter, holding a large cardboard box packed with the shelves’ few remaining items.

  “Miss Durham, in addition to providing us access to inventory and confiscating your unsold merchandise, you are also required to provide me with a plan to reorganize your business so that it may legally contribute to the economy. Is your plan ready?”

  “I was under the impression from my reading of the provisions in Resolution 84 that I would have thirty days to provide such a business plan.”

  “Technically, yes, but it is within my power to determine if you possess the wherewithal and business acumen to successfully transition and become a contributing member of society.”

  “Please, Constable. I assure you that I will have a viable plan before the end of the month. My mother and I are already discussing how we might transition the shop. Please give me the time to organize my resources and get you the information you request.”

  Victor walked around the counter, looking around the empty store, then turned to face Winnie across the counter. “I’m doubtful you will be able to satisfy me or the board of examiners with anything you might come up with in the next few weeks. Still, the law allows you thirty days to present your next unsuccessful venture to me. And we are nothing without the law, are we, Miss Durham?”

  The young woman shook her head, though she still didn’t show proper deference to his authority, meeting his gaze with her striking hazel eyes, unflinching. Victor was sure that there would be time in the coming weeks to knock away some of her insolence.

  He gestured to the two officers. “Take that contraband to the car and notify headquarters that we’re moving on to the next location. We have to have all the collected magic items back to Headquarters for loading in the transport trailers there. I’ll be out shortly.”

  He waited for the officers to leave, then turned back to Winnie.

  “Miss Durham. I might seem harsh in my assessment of your chances now that your shop has closed. It may be that there is an opportunity to secure extra funds for you and your mother if you were to provide me with the occasional nugget of information, helping me to see where other chanters might be operating outside the law.”

  Winnie started to respond, but Victor held up a hand.

  “I don’t need your answer now. Understand, there will be those who will enter the Sable trade and run charms to people who cannot or will not do without magic despite Resolution 84. This black market will be broken eventually, but it can be felled sooner if someone like yourself were to do the right thing. I assure you, the department will pay well for any verifiable information. Think about it.”

  Victor turned and walked away, his back to Winnie, dismissing her. He doubted she would take him up on his offer — she was a chanter, after all — but he’d been instructed by Director Kane to make it to all on his list on the outside chance that some might respond favorably.

  He opened the door and stepped out into the morning sun, relishing its light and warmth after his time inside amid the magical darkness of that Godforsaken store.

  Chapter 5

  Winnie let her shoulders sag, finally venting a sigh when Constable Holmes left her shop. She put up a brave front and showed a confidence she didn’t really have when he was there, but now that she was alone again, the ugly doubts crept in to keep her darkest thoughts company. Her mind was frantic with questions as she looked around the empty store.

  She’d closed the shop last night after her best day of business ever. Of course, it had also been the final day, unless she and her mother could conjure a new business plan to justify keeping the merchant’s license from the city, and make enough rent to keep the store open. There was nothing magical left. They’d even taken the small brass bell on the wall by the counter, charmed to ring whenever the shop door opened, announcing a new customer.

  Those strange cameras the officers carried were effective. She’d gotten a glimpse at their screens, which showed the glow of magic surrounding charmed objects in much the same way she saw it. If this new technology was being used everywhere, they’d surely be able to root out most of the city’s illegal magic. Still, she wondered how widespread their use was. While chanters could see the glow of magic around any charmed item with the use of a simple spell, she had discovered there were ways to dampen that glow. She was a skilled chanter and had always loved to experiment. Mom had taught her things handed down within their family that it was possible other chanters didn’t know how to do.

  It was a random thought. Using magic in such a way would hide the charms from Red Legs and other chanters, surely violating every aspect of the Resolutions, especially Resolution 84. Winnie would never engage in using such magic, just as she would never participate in the Sable trade with people like Artos Merrilyn.

  Everyone knew Artos was more than a skilled Mender. He treated the city’s rich and powerful middlings when they used too much Sable magic and harmed themselves.
Most charms were harmless and had no effect on the user. But there were other items, acquired long before the Resolutions were passed. They were handed down in the families of the city’s power brokers. It was said that even members of the Assembly in the capitol possessed such items and required menders from time to time.

  Casting and using magic that directly affected a human caused a sort of backlash against the user and caster. For the chanters who cast such spells, Sable Magic caused a rush of energy to surge through the caster, creating a euphoria that Winnie had been taught was quite addictive. Her cousin Joey had a problem with this addiction, though he said he was clean now.

  Winnie thought about this as her hand traced the antique cash register keys. Had she rung up her final sale on this old beast? Shaking her head, Winnie banished the thought. Failure was not an option. Mom needed her to come up with a solution for the shop so they could stay open, and she could keep buying the medicine and medical care required to treat her arthritis.

  Walking into the back, Winnie double-checked the door’s lock, then emerged to find a middle-aged woman standing there with a box held close to her chest. Winnie was startled, so used to the chiming bell that, until a few minutes ago, had always alerted her to a customer’s presence.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’re closed. Resolution 84 won’t allow me to charm any items.”

  “I don’t want to buy anything from you,” the woman said, seeming shocked by the suggestion. “I know that’s against the law. I want something different. I read the Resolution, and it allows for the maintenance and repair of existing magical items and charms. I was wondering if you were able to help me with that?”

  “I don’t know. I would need to check the rules. What did you have in mind?”

  “I have this clock. It’s been in the family for years.” The woman took a fine white china mantle clock from her box and set it on the counter. “It’s supposed to ring with a special chime when my husband is on his way home from the office, and show me his arrival time when I wave my hand over the case.” She passed her hand, palm down over the clock. Its hands twitched and shuddered, but didn’t budge from the current time.

  “I don’t know, Mrs. … ?”

  “I’m Mrs. Adams. I inquired at Mr. Merrilyn’s office. He’s always been so helpful to my family in the past. I’d hoped he would be able to repair it for me, but he suggested I come to you. He seemed to think you might need the work and would have no trouble repairing my clock, making it as good as new.”

  Winnie was shocked that Artos Merrilyn even knew who she was. She guessed a man in his position knew all the magic shop owners in the city, but why send this woman here? Certainly, he could have repaired the charm himself? It made Winnie cautious. Was this woman a Red Leg informant? Would she call Constable Holmes the minute Winnie repaired the clock?

  “If you would wait right here, ma’am. I have to check something in the back. I’ll only be a moment.”

  Winnie went into the back room and looked through the stack of papers scattered across her desk. The letter from the Assembly should be there somewhere. She hadn’t opened it upon delivering, knowing in general what it said. But now she was curious. Was there a loophole in Resolution 84 that would allow her to keep her shop open?

  Winnie found the letter and tore the envelope open.

  The formal cover letter on top informed Winnie that her shop was under interdiction with the passage of Resolution 84. She set that aside and looked at the bottom four pages — a copy of the Resolution itself. She found the relevant passage buried in small print on page three.

  The continued use of magical or charmed items already owned is not prohibited by this edict. Neither is the maintenance and repair of existing charms when said magic fails to operate in the manner for which it was intended. Provision is made by the Assembly to license those who may enact such repairs upon application and a criminal background check.

  That was it. It made sense. Too much of the United Americas infrastructure operated with magical assistance. That was the reason for the Charm Techs like her friend Tristan. People like Tris kept the water flowing and sewers from backing up. There would have to be allowances for some chanters to keep casting spells and using magic to maintain preexisting charms. This was perfect; if Winnie could secure such a license. Maybe she could keep the shop open after all.

  Turning and heading back to the front of the store, Winnie found the woman standing by the counter, tapping her foot and glancing at her watch.

  “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I had to make sure that this was something I could do. Resolution 84 is so new that I didn’t have a chance to read the whole thing, but you’re right, I am allowed to make repairs … provided I have the necessary licenses. Unfortunately, I don’t. If you could come back in a few days? I’ll try and secure them. I can call you when everything is arranged.”

  “Mr. Merrilyn suggested that might be a problem, so I went by my husband’s office in the ministry building downtown. On Artos’s recommendation, he had his assistant draw up this document. He suggested I offer it in trade for your services repairing the clock.”

  The woman removed a large manilla envelope from her purse and handed it to Winnie. Inside was an official letter from the Bureau of Weights, Measures, and Magic. She read it out loud, astonished.

  “The owner of the magic shop known as ‘Charmed,’ Guinevere Durham, is hereby licensed by the City of Baltimore to repair magical items of a household nature under the provisions in Assembly Resolution 84 paragraph eleven … ” Winnie looked up at the woman. “Is this real?”

  “Do you think I would forge an official letter from the city? My husband heads the Bureau. I have no need to forge anything. Now, can you fix my clock or not?”

  “I can fix it, ma’am. I’ll make sure it’s better than new.”

  “And you’ll accept the license as payment?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Winnie looked at the clock and murmured the spell that would allow her to see the magical flows that charmed it. The clock was ancient — flows were knotted in a manner that hadn’t been used for many years.

  “I’ll need to keep the clock for a few days. Could you come back, say, Thursday? I should have it ready then.”

  “That will be acceptable.” Mrs. Adams pulled a pocket planner from her purse and flipped pages until she arrived at the one she was looking for. “Yes, Thursday is perfect. I’ll come by in the afternoon around two.”

  “I’ll have it all ready. Thank you, Mrs. Adams. You won’t be sorry.”

  “Don’t thank me, dear. Thank Mr. Merrilyn. He recommended you.” The woman looked around at the empty shop and waved her hand at the shelves. “Judging from the condition of this place, you owe him quite a lot. Good day.”

  “Good day, ma’am.”

  Winnie watched the woman leave, then stared down at her newly-printed license. Her emotions suddenly swelled, causing Winnie to collapse on a nearby stool. Tears welled in her eyes. She needed this lifeline, no matter who it came from. It was a way to stay in business despite the new Resolution. She’d have to make some changes to the shop’s layout, and Winnie supposed she’d have to start advertising her repair services.

  She stood and walked over to the wall behind the counter where her old magic and charm merchant’s license sat in its plain black frame. She took it down, removed the backing, and pulled the old, obsolete license from the glass. Then she replaced it with the new magic and charm repair license. She rehung the frame, wondering what Constable Holmes would say about her rapid business turn around. He wanted to shut all of the magic shops down. If the Constable had his way, he’d lock up every chanter man, woman, and child in the city.

  Surely, this would infuriate the Red Leg leader. He’d seemed so certain when he left that this magical shop was shuttered for good. Realizing the effect this would have on Victor Holmes cheered Winnie up enough to grant her a smile, though his reaction to the news was also cause for concern.


  Still, she had a license to legally operate. She would go home and hammer out a business plan using the new services she could provide, and have it ready to turn in when the Constable returned.

  Winnie took the clock, placed it back in Mrs. Adam’s box, and took it home to work on it there. She had to let her mother know that their prayers had been answered.

  Chapter 6

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  “But Mom, this is exactly the opportunity we’ve been looking for. We can’t survive if we don’t keep the shop open. This is a way to do that.”

  Elaine Durham leaned forward in her chair and pointed a gnarled, arthritic finger at Winnie. “Don’t ‘but Mom’ me. You take that clock back and return it to the woman, along with that accursed license. We will not be beholden to anyone, especially not Artos Merrilyn.”

  Winnie shook her head. Why was her mother acting this way? She thought she’d be happy — this was a lucky break and there was no other obvious option.

  “Look, Mom, I don’t see as you have any say. You signed the store over to me on my eighteenth birthday. I can do as I like with the shop. I know you have reservations about Mr. Merrilyn. But this isn’t like any of that. I read the Resolution. It allows for magical repair services. I can do this. You always said I had a way with the flows, and that I could see them unlike anyone else. This is a chance for me to define my path, to hone my craft without breaking the law. This was just a kindness from him. Maybe Artos Merrilyn isn’t the monster you think he is.”

  “You don’t know what that man is capable of, Winnie. He’s involved in terrible things, and with people I don’t want you hanging around. If he gets his hooks into you over this license, he won’t let go.”

  Winnie crossed the room and sat next to her mother. She took Elaine’s crippled hands in hers and looked her mom in the eyes. “No one has their ‘hooks’ in me, Mom. A woman asked him for a favor and he referred her to a local business. If anyone owes him a favor, it’s her, not me.”