We sat at the kitchen table. Olivia recited her job description. There wasn’t a thing I would change and I left feeling like a very lucky magistrate.
Next I went to the shop, found Maggie, and had a similar conversation with her.
“So, you basically run the shop.”
“I know the ins and outs,” she said. “You’re the boss in theory or practice. My level of management is entirely up to you. And I’ll be happy with your choice.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “I think we should leave things as they are for now. I think it’s more important that I spend time studying the journals and learning about the, um, population. I did enjoy helping to make the decision on renovating that chair. I have an art history education.”
“Well, then,” she said. “Easy enough. You and Dolan will confer on pieces needin’ restoration.”
“I’m going to let Lochlan know my decision and go for a drive.”
“Sure. Sure.” Maggie looked at me like she was waiting for me to say something else. When I didn’t, at length she said, “You were out and about last night.” I nodded. She cleared her throat and looked discomfited. “I hope my work clothes didn’t give you too much a fright.”
I sat back down and put my hands in my lap. “Should I be honest?”
“Aye. Always.”
“It was a little harrowing, but I called Keir Culain.” Her gaze jerked to mine. “He explained things.”
“Oh. Did he now?”
“Yes. I hope you don’t mind. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep.”
“I do no’ look that bad when I’m heraldin’.”
“Just the opposite. Your work visage is lovely and, I mean, who wouldn’t be down with flying? Or looking twenty-five. I just needed to know what I was seeing. You must understand how, um, alien all this is.”
“Aye. I do. To be sure you’re managin’ better than most. But then the Powers would know that, would they no’?” She paused. “I look twenty-five?”
“Do you not know how you appear as your, um, other nature?” She shook her head. “Beautiful, Maggie. Quite beautiful.”
She soaked that in and was beaming as I rose to leave. “Just so you know, I can also take the form of a blackbird. Or a weasel, but I rarely seen the point of that.”
After taking a minute to process that, I said, “I guess I can see the appeal of being a blackbird. But I’m trying to imagine when it would be advantageous to be a weasel.”
Maggie shrugged. “Exactly why ‘tis no’ a typical choice. But the Powers That Be are ne’er wrong.”
“Right. By the way, do you have a phone?”
“No’ personally, but we have one in the office. I pick it up if it rings but leave it here when I go.”
I got the office number. It was something.
“You’re welcome to come to lunch tomorrow. You and Dolan. If he’s here. We’re having tapas.”
She lit up. “Do no’ know what that is but sounds grand.”
“Would I be more likely to find Lochlan at home or at the office at this time of day?”
“I’d try his house if I were you.”
My intention was to walk through the shop and exit the front door, but as I entered a young woman came in. I turned on my heel and walked straight back to Maggie.
“The windchime isn’t working.”
“And why would we be thinkin’ that?”
“Come and have a look.” Maggie followed me to the rear display counter where I pretended to be busy as I shuffled things around. “Look.”
Maggie leaned around me in a fashion that was less surreptitious than I would have liked, scanned the shop, then said, “What am I lookin’ at?”
I gaped. “The customer with blue hair and orange skin.”
“Oh.” She leaned over again and pronounced, “Human.”
I slowly turned for another look, smiled at the customer, and raised my voice. “Please feel free to look around.” The patron nodded, but her attention was already elsewhere, eyes leisurely wandering over the odd, but captivating wares. Turning back to Maggie with lowered voice, “Okay. I grant that people can make their hair look like Ostara eggs, but what about the orange skin?”
“Sunburn.”
“Sunburn?” I glanced in the girl’s direction. “Isn’t it too late in the year for that?”
Maggie fanned her hand in front of her face and tried to talk without moving her lips, like a ventriloquist. “No’ if you’re under enough influence.” She stressed the word, influence, to be certain I’d catch the innuendo. “Young ones from the city.” She shook her head. “She probably had a weekend in Spain, laid on