The shopkeeper’s tea had gone cold and he slurped it in a single go as he’d always done.


    “You should have it already,” he said to the open pages of the book as if the characters were supposed to hear him and change their predetermined course. “She’s the killer, don''t be so naive,” he flipped the page with great agitation, almost bending it in half, then changed the position of his feet on the counter. The chair screeched under him as he kept swaying back and forward, anticipating a finale. "Oh, please, how irrational is that?"


    Flipping another page, he gasped, seeing that the story was yet to get complicated, and he was not even halfway in. “Come on, why do you have to be so miserable?”


    He was too invested in the story to hear the chimes announce a customer.


    ***


    “Are you sure this is it?” Rooren said twitching her arm in the broad direction of the small corner shop. “It doesn’t look like this is it.”


    “This is Kaiden Island Roor,” returned Lei as he tried to kick a stink bug off his shirt. “The literal butt of the world. Don’t expect it to be anything at all, and you won’t be disappointed.” He flicked his fingers and launched the bug straight at Brano’s arm, who in turn kicked it further to the street, where it died.


    “We made it this far, we might as well get it over with while we can. I certainly can’t afford to get into any more trouble,” Brano added, pulling off his sunglasses. His left eyelid danced in an unpleasant rhythm, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.


    “Yeah, sure thing B. I just never thought I’d get to see you so riled up over a stupid artifact. You’re more nervous now than you were in an actual haunted house. It’s weird.”


    “He’s got a point,” Rooren cut in. “It’s not like this is the first time we got in trouble over some bauble, but you seem a bit too jumpy is all. Case in point,” she pointed once again to the corner shop, and the long sign above the door, that in elegant cursive letters wrote Little Vrevramil’s Antique Shop. “Who the hell is this Vrevr… ah, whatever his name… and why is he so important all of a sudden?”


    Brano responded with a low growl and clenched his bag tightly before looking at both sides of the street. It was as deserted as it was when they arrived, safe for several old ladies watching over from their balconies and a stray cat lurking between the trash cans.


    “Just stay on guard. Please.”


    ***


    The shop had a smell to it. Not an old smell like most such places had, and neither a sweet aroma some people used to compensate for it. It was the scent of fresh resin that made them feel like they’d entered the heart of a pine forest and not a shop on an island.


    “Listen to me young man, you sold me this teapot. You said it was one of a kind, worth much more than you were asking for,” said a plump old lady clenching her coin purse under her arm and shoving a ceramic teapot over the counter. From the distance, it looked like any piece of a modern take on traditional artistry, but if one were to look closer, one would discover the limitless beauty of red lines and black flowers decorating its body. Nonetheless, she kept pushing it over the glass like a battle piece on a map.


    “Yes, indeed I did,” returned the shopkeeper, pulling his unusually gray hair behind his ears. His tone was not affected by the woman’s frustration, nor did he seem too concerned with what she was saying. He was, almost annoyingly, calm.


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    “I find it preposterous that you would sell me such a foul thing. I held you in a higher regard.”


    “I’m sorry you found this item dis-satisfactory,” he added as he spun the teapot around and brought it closer to him. “I’ll make sure to refund you fully.”


    “Refund me?” she flustered up and turned slightly red in her cheeks. The coins in her purse may as well have merged from the pressure she put on them. “You think money will solve this? Young man, your teapot ate my cat.”


    “I’m quite certain such a thing is not possible,” the shopkeeper insisted with a cheerful smile across his face. “Look,” he removed the top and tilted the ceramic masterpiece towards her, revealing nothing but white emptiness inside.


    “I know what I saw. I am not crazy,” the woman growled. “Juniper was a sweet cat, and that thing just... oh, I can’t bear this injustice. All of Kaiden Port will hear of this. I promise you that.”


    “Please take this,” he handed her several paper bills from the register and nodded politely. “I’m sorry, but there is nothing I can do about Juniper now.”


    “Sorcery,” she cried as she wobbled to the door, wiping her tears with a purple handkerchief, barely paying any mind to the three newcomers in the back.


    “How may I help you?” the shopkeeper sounded once the chimes on the door stopped chirping. “Looking for something in particular?”


    They stood, equally stunned by what they heard and enchanted by the amount of things surrounding them. A thousand trinkets beckoned their attention with intrigue and beauty, and they found it hard to peel their eyes away. It was as if the shop contained the entire history of the world within its walls.


    “Is that a real skull?” Roor said with her fingers wrapped around a glass case, reinforced by a metal frame and a massive lock. “What happened to it? Why is it locked?”


    “Ah, a good choice,” the shopkeeper said prancing forward. “That used to be a chalice. One of the northern kings liked to drink from his enemies’ skulls from time to time, but he liked that one in particular. No one knows who the poor fellow was but they say if you are not careful, he might still bite you. Would you like to try?”


    “Oh, I-”


    Brano cleared his throat, cutting the fun short. He pulled the bag off his shoulder, still holding it tightly. “We’re looking for Mr. Vrevramil,” he said, a bit too formally.


    “I’m afraid he is traveling on business,” the shopkeeper returned shaking his head. “Perhaps I can be of service? Hi, I’m Ullie,” he added raising his hand like he was saluting a class of children.


    Brano paused, taking a long moment to think through his next move. Too many thighs hung in the balance and not everyone could be trusted. He looked at the blades on the walls, the bones in the boxes, and things he knew nothing about, trying to make a decision. He did not notice Lei inching towards the counter.


    “So, did the teapot really eat the cat?” Lei asked joyfully pacing around the mysterious item like the porcelain held all the secrets of the universe. He did not dare touch it, though, merely admired it from above.


    “But of course it did,” Ullie laughed, as he hurried to lower the teapot into a wooden crate before anyone else got the opportunity to peek inside it. Closing the lid he added, “Except this is not a teapot and Juniper isn’t a cat.”


    “What?” Lei upstarted before Brano pulled him away, not too gently.


    “I was told Mr Vrevramil was an expert on historical artifacts,” Brano said once he knew he would not be interrupted. “And I’m afraid the matter is quite urgent.”


    “Well, you are in an antique shop,” Ullie joked. “History isn’t going anywhere.”


    Brano’s face crumpled into a grimace and then released into a neutral, indifferent expression. “Can you tell me when he’ll be back? Or at least give me a way to contact him?”


    Ullie squinted his eyes at the calender he kept on the wall close to the door. “It''s hard to say. I doubt it will be any time soon. He doesn''t tell me these things… but worry not, you are in good hands, either way. I am equally knowledgeable in… artifacts.”


    “He means magical artifacts,” Roor intruded, peeking over Brano’s shoulder. “Are you sure you know anything about those?”


    “I told you to…” Brano whispered signaling the others to head for the exit. “Sorry to bother you,” he added nodding at Ullie. “I think we’re in the wrong place. Goodbye.”


    He turned to leave, pulling Lei away with him, as they argued among themselves in loud whispers.


    “That thing you’ve got in your bag,” Ullie said before all three of them had disappeared through the door. His tone was slightly different, serious in a way they weren’t expecting. “What is it?”


    Something in the air had changed in those short moments. Some invisible force flew around them, like a soft electrical current or gentle strands of twine touching their skin, and they stopped, wondering if it was what they feared.