tidy sum sellin’ these things all across the States. Gag shops love ‘em.”
“Hidden in plain sight…you guys seem to love that. So, what was that fae doing for you exactly?”
“Us. Doin’ for us. He’s a minor Unseelie fae. There are two general types of fae. The Seelie and the Unseelie. The Seelie are bearable, but the Unseelie are the dredges. They adore disorder. The more harm they cause, the more it shakes their rocks. So I exploited his Unseelie nature, Dieter. I asked him ta find the most egregiously mislabeled merchandise on Chapel Street. He got ta enjoy the frustration of all those shopkeepers; we found the bargains. Still, I had ta be careful. I gifted him snacks so he couldn’t boomerang it.”
“Huh?”
“The Unseelie are a sneaky lot. Sure, they won’t quit till they fulfill an agreement, but it’s in their nature ta exploit any loopholes in a bargain. When dealin’ with the Unseelie, the best defense is always good offense. Give ‘em somethin’ more important ta worry about. Then they’ll usually leave ya be.”
“A frappuccino?” I asked, outraged.
“Yup. They love fresh-n-sugary snacks. You know, the usual stuff: warm baked goods, cream, butter, babies. Also, ya want ta keep them from touchin’ yer person. They hate anything stale. They also don’t like clothes worn inside out. Both are like fae kryptonite.” Jules undid the top two buttons of her blouse to reveal a large iron locket. “So is iron.”
“Um, I can’t see that too well, could you—”
Blushing, Jules leaned forward and smacked me upside the head. “Wanker,” she growled.
“Honestly, you complain about me being reckless, but contracts with the fae? Don’t they have a reputation of enslaving talented, handsome, young men like myself? You risked your charge, Julesy.”
“Well then, Mr. Cautious, I’ll just return this authentic WWI flight jacket—”
“It’s real?” Visions of the Red Baron danced through my head. I clutched back my prize greedily. “Fine, you’re forgiven.”
Jules started cackling again. (Frankly, she did it a little too well.)
I checked my watch. Our fae-driven high-speed shopping session had saved a ton of time. “Hey Jules, I’ve got about one-fifty left on my card. I still need to pick up PJ’s and undies, but we have till 11PM, right? What do you say we grab dinner and a movie with the rest? I owe you big time, after all.”
Jules beamed.
“Hey, Dieter, boxer or briefs?”
“Quiet, wench, that’s a trade secret.”
Laughing, we went looking for a department store.
+
“Are you serious,” I asked.
“Yeppers!”
I kicked my shoe into the ground a few more times, sighed, and went up to the ticket counter. “Two for Harry Potter , please.”
The pimpled teenager behind the counter squinted at me. “Are you sure, sir? It is rated PG-13.”
I had just enough mana to…“Ha-ha-ha. Good one. It’s for my little sister over there. She’s not all that well in the head.” I leaned forward and whispered, “She thinks she’s a witch.”
The attendant passed me the two tickets. “Sorry, man,” he managed.
Two hours later we stumbled out into the night.
“Awen’s Ghost, that Bill Weasley is so hot. I would love ta ride his broomstick all night—”
“Jules!” I yelled, sheltering my virgin ears.
“Oops!” She smirked. “Double-entendre, huh?”
“And then some. Thanks for the image. By-the-way, can we actually do that?”
“Broomsticks?” Jules strummed her chin. “In theory, yea…but do you have any idea how cold it would get? Yer eyeballs would probably freeze straight through.” Jules frowned. “I don’t think it would be a good idea ta mention this concept in front of Roster.”
I shuddered at the thought. “Don’t worry, I hate heights. Let’s go get dinner.”
“Heck, yea,” Jules said pumping her fist. “It’s apizza time!”
I shook my head. “You mean it’s pizza time. I swear, Jules, sometimes we
“Hidden in plain sight…you guys seem to love that. So, what was that fae doing for you exactly?”
“Us. Doin’ for us. He’s a minor Unseelie fae. There are two general types of fae. The Seelie and the Unseelie. The Seelie are bearable, but the Unseelie are the dredges. They adore disorder. The more harm they cause, the more it shakes their rocks. So I exploited his Unseelie nature, Dieter. I asked him ta find the most egregiously mislabeled merchandise on Chapel Street. He got ta enjoy the frustration of all those shopkeepers; we found the bargains. Still, I had ta be careful. I gifted him snacks so he couldn’t boomerang it.”
“Huh?”
“The Unseelie are a sneaky lot. Sure, they won’t quit till they fulfill an agreement, but it’s in their nature ta exploit any loopholes in a bargain. When dealin’ with the Unseelie, the best defense is always good offense. Give ‘em somethin’ more important ta worry about. Then they’ll usually leave ya be.”
“A frappuccino?” I asked, outraged.
“Yup. They love fresh-n-sugary snacks. You know, the usual stuff: warm baked goods, cream, butter, babies. Also, ya want ta keep them from touchin’ yer person. They hate anything stale. They also don’t like clothes worn inside out. Both are like fae kryptonite.” Jules undid the top two buttons of her blouse to reveal a large iron locket. “So is iron.”
“Um, I can’t see that too well, could you—”
Blushing, Jules leaned forward and smacked me upside the head. “Wanker,” she growled.
“Honestly, you complain about me being reckless, but contracts with the fae? Don’t they have a reputation of enslaving talented, handsome, young men like myself? You risked your charge, Julesy.”
“Well then, Mr. Cautious, I’ll just return this authentic WWI flight jacket—”
“It’s real?” Visions of the Red Baron danced through my head. I clutched back my prize greedily. “Fine, you’re forgiven.”
Jules started cackling again. (Frankly, she did it a little too well.)
I checked my watch. Our fae-driven high-speed shopping session had saved a ton of time. “Hey Jules, I’ve got about one-fifty left on my card. I still need to pick up PJ’s and undies, but we have till 11PM, right? What do you say we grab dinner and a movie with the rest? I owe you big time, after all.”
Jules beamed.
“Hey, Dieter, boxer or briefs?”
“Quiet, wench, that’s a trade secret.”
Laughing, we went looking for a department store.
+
“Are you serious,” I asked.
“Yeppers!”
I kicked my shoe into the ground a few more times, sighed, and went up to the ticket counter. “Two for Harry Potter , please.”
The pimpled teenager behind the counter squinted at me. “Are you sure, sir? It is rated PG-13.”
I had just enough mana to…“Ha-ha-ha. Good one. It’s for my little sister over there. She’s not all that well in the head.” I leaned forward and whispered, “She thinks she’s a witch.”
The attendant passed me the two tickets. “Sorry, man,” he managed.
Two hours later we stumbled out into the night.
“Awen’s Ghost, that Bill Weasley is so hot. I would love ta ride his broomstick all night—”
“Jules!” I yelled, sheltering my virgin ears.
“Oops!” She smirked. “Double-entendre, huh?”
“And then some. Thanks for the image. By-the-way, can we actually do that?”
“Broomsticks?” Jules strummed her chin. “In theory, yea…but do you have any idea how cold it would get? Yer eyeballs would probably freeze straight through.” Jules frowned. “I don’t think it would be a good idea ta mention this concept in front of Roster.”
I shuddered at the thought. “Don’t worry, I hate heights. Let’s go get dinner.”
“Heck, yea,” Jules said pumping her fist. “It’s apizza time!”
I shook my head. “You mean it’s pizza time. I swear, Jules, sometimes we
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