Chapter 21

The bell jangled as he entered the shop. Such a discordant sound. Mammon preferred the screams of a live victim to announce visitors. A cacophony of smells assaulted the senses, easily ignored. What he did find interesting was the layers of spells. So many of them, most meant to shield.

A pity for the owner that they failed.

An old crone bustling behind a table noticed him and squinted with rheumy eyes. "The sign says closed."

"I know." As if that applied to him. The door slammed shut, the lock re-engaging. "I am looking for someone."

"Don't deal in people. Just ingredients." The old woman swept a gnarled hand, a slight tremor in the limb. Frailty or fear? He hoped the latter.

"We both know that's not entirely true." He tsked. "The person I'm seeking is a client of yours. Recently here." All the smells in this shop couldn't hide the lingering stench of magic.

"Ain't no clients here now." The old lady pulled her shawl closer.