Everyhome Enchantments

Marla ran across the street avoiding the carriages, her umbrella kept half-upright while she fumbled with the keys of her shop. The bell trilled her welcome as she opened the door and, out of habit, she glanced at the little thermometer hidden at the threshold, barely visible if you didn’t know it was there. When she passed in front of it, it spiked to a pleasant 23 degrees Celsius to then return to the actual temperature of 16.

Marla smiled as she turned the sign on the door to “open” and started humming a little tune to herself. She liked rainy days—she was looking forward to brewing herself a warm coffee in her favourite mug.

She had just started opening the counter when the door of the shop flew open, sending the bell into a ringing fit.

“Good morning and welcome to—oh, Thomas, how nice to see you—”

“Sorry Marla, I’m just here to pick something up.” Thomas, a young man who had been hanging out at her shop in the past couple of months, flashed her a charming smile, his brown locks in disarray. He disappeared in the adjacent room where Marla kept kitchen utensils and porcelain.

“You forgot something here?” Marla asked. “Where? I can help—”

“No!” A pause. “I found it!” Thomas reappeared, his smile still plastered on his face. But there was a coldness to it that Marla wasn’t used to seeing. He approached her, came way closer to her than he had ever done before, and took her hand.

“I’m sorry, I have to go already.” He looked at her hand, then up at her eyes, leaned in and kissed her on her cheek. Marla froze.

“I’ll come by later and tell you all about it, yes?” Thomas said. He chuckled. “Crazy day, I swear.”

“Oh.” Marla stammered, stopping herself from bringing her hand to her cheek. It was burning hot and she felt lopsided. She wasn’t sure she liked it. “Of course. See you later, then.”

“You are the best, Marla.”

Thomas went for the door. As he passed through the threshold, Marla glanced without even thinking at the twin thermometer tucked at her counter—it mirrored the one at the door, but was visible only to her.

When Thomas left, the thermometer dropped to a chilling minus 5. Then back to 16.

Marla didn’t sing much the rest of the morning.

She chatted with the customers but her mind was stuck on Thomas. A part of her was happy about the kiss—a part of her thought, it was about time.

Thomas had showed up at her shop for the first time a few months before and had kept on coming since, seemingly just to hang out. He would chat her time away, waiting for her to close, accompanying her for a little bit on the way home—but never all the way. It was obvious that he wanted to spend time with her, Marla thought, but why wouldn’t he ever invite her out for dinner? She had nudged towards something in that direction once… and then he had disappeared for a couple of weeks.

She sighed as she rifled through a magazine, “The Weekly-Wise Magician”. But the tips and tricks on how to bind new spells on appropriate objects just wouldn’t stick to her head that day. The thought of Thomas made her feel hot and cold at the same time. The kiss was sweet, she guessed, but then she remembered his worried eyes.

He was hiding something. She didn’t like it one bit. She ought to talk to him openly next time he passed by: she was done with this exhausting dance they were doing.

Marla was pouring hot water onto the mint leaves in her favorite mug when the bell rang again. She glanced at the thermometer and nearly missed the change: it wavered from the actual temperature of 16 degrees to an uneasy 15. She looked up at the door and her breath caught as she recognized private investigator Levinn taking off his hat.

“Good morning and welcome to Everyhome Enchantments, sir,” she greeted as naturally as she could.

“Good morning, Madam.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll give a look around, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. If you have any questions, you know where to find me.”

The man nodded stiffly, adjusting his spectacles on his nose and passing a hand through his blonde hair flattened by the hat.

Marla pretended to read more of her magazine, sniffing the comforting smell of coffee from her mug. She was giggling inside. Investigator Levinn! At her store! Was he looking for a present? Or something for himself? She couldn’t wait to tell her cousin Ronnie that she had met again his favorite investigator of magical items.

After she took care of a customer interested in one of her everwarming mugs, investigator Levinn approached her.

“I may be in need of assistance after all, Madam.”

Marla smiled warmly at him. “But of course! May I ask what you are looking for? A convenient appliance for your home? Or maybe a present for a dear one?”

“Mhm.” Levinn looked at the side. “None of the above, I fear.” He glanced up, studying her attentively from behind his spectacles. “Madam, does the name Thomas Zopert say anything to you?”

Marla opened her mouth in surprise. She blinked a few times. “Thomas? Well, actually, yes. In fact, he is a regular customer.”

“Has he been for a long time?”

“Uhm, a few months. Two, maybe three?”

“Would you mind telling me if you know him personally?”

Mara’s cheeks flared. “We’re, uh, friendly I’d say. He spends some time here chatting about nothingness.” She hesitated. “Why do you ask?”

“I apologize. I’m aware I’m asking peculiar, if not downright rude questions.” Investigator Levinn observed her silently for a moment. “You know who I am, don’t you?” There was gentleness in his voice.

“Oh.” Marla didn’t look down, despite wanting to. “You’re a private investigator.” She paused. “I know one of your past customers, sir, who was very grateful for your work in retrieving a magical family heirloom dear to him. Yes, I do know who you are, Mr. Levinn.”

“Very well,” Levinn said. “This makes things easier then. I want to inform you, Madam, that Thomas Zopert is involved in an investigation of mine. I have reason to believe that he has used your shop to hide stolen wares.”

“Excuse me, what?”

“According to the information I have, Mr. Zopert has been stealing precious and rare magical material from a family business he works for. The owner has entrusted me to investigate his son in law’s actions—”

“Son in law?!” Marla’s voice went shrill.

Investigator Levinn paused, looking clearly embarrassed. He took his spectacles, folded them and placed them inside a case which he hid in his coat. “I have reason to believe that Thomas Zopert has been stealing from his father in law’s business, in which he works as an assistant.”

Marla stared at him. “Thomas’ father in law. Thomas is… married?”

“That’s correct.”

“And he’s been using my shop to… to… to hide…” Marla scoffed. “I need to sit down.”

She grabbed her favorite mug and left the counter to go to the furniture section where she sat on one of her chairs on sale. She brought her mug to her lips a couple of times, but the smell of coffee peppered with mint didn’t help with the sudden nausea.

She felt investigator Levinn stepping at her side. “I’m really sorry, Madam, to have caused you distress,” he said softly. “You see, I need your help. You know your own shop better than anyone. Would you be willing to help me figure out what Thomas Zopert has truly been doing here?”

Marla sighed. She was outraged—but a part of her was unsurprised. Now the weird dance Thomas had been playing with her made painfully sense. She had known something was off; she should have trusted her gut. But to be fooled like that—oh she hated it. She took a generous gulp of coffee, breathed in deeply, and turned to investigator Levinn.

“Please, call me Marla. Let’s get to work then, shall we?”

After Marla told investigator Levinn about Thomas’ visit that morning, they decided to give a look to the porcelain room even though they knew Thomas had probably already taken away whatever he had stored in there. Still, Levinn wanted to give a look at the shop to “piece together Mr. Zopert’s procedure”. Marla turned the sign at the door from “open” to “close”, so that they could investigate without interruptions.

When Marla entered the porcelain room, she found investigator Levinn turning in his hands one of her self-assorting decorative plates.

“I found this in the cupboard.”

Marla sighed. “That’s one of mine. Well, it’s supposed to be on this pile here and not hidden in the cupboard—you won’t believe all the things that customers misplace.”

He handed the plate over to her. “What does it do?”

“It assorts little things.”

As investigator Levinn raised one eyebrow, Marla explained. “I wanted to create a serving plate that rearranges food prettily, so that it looks wonderful by the time you bring it to the table. I tried many different spells, but, well, they didn’t quite stick…”

Levinn scratched his chin. “Food. Too many different consistencies. Difficult to have one spell affect equally all elements on the plate.”

“Precisely! So, the self-plating plate was a failure. But!” Marla pointed up a finger. “If the consistencies of the objects on the plate are similar, then it may work. Do you have any change?”

Levinn furrowed his eyebrows, then tilted his head to the side. He produced from one of his pockets some coins and, as Marla offered him the plate, he let them clink onto it.

They both observed the plate. Nothing happened.

Marla chuckled nervously. “Well, now we have to put this aside and wait.” Some types of magic, especially the one that changed reality permanently, didn’t like to be watched when at work. One thing was to have a thermometer react for a few seconds to a factor that wasn’t temperature; another was to have a plate move around and rearrange objects on its surface.

Investigator Levinn nodded. “Does it work faster if it’s in an enclosed space?”

“It’s difficult to calculate.” Marla sighed. “Sometimes it doesn’t work at all. The spell—I’m still ironing out its formulation.” She placed the plate on a shelf. “With the luck I have, this one is probably faulty.”

Investigator Levinn went around the shop, thoroughly searching any cupboard, cabinet, or closet he found. Marla was always beside him, explaining what each item did any time he looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“A self-ironing closet. It’ll iron any shirt you put in.”

“Only shirts?”

“Any type of clothing.”

“…with the exception of? Let me guess. It doesn’t like a specific color?”

It should have been infuriating—well, Marla was piqued, but also terribly impressed that Levinn managed to guess every time the limitations of her creations. And the way he did it, with curiosity and genuine amusement rather than sneer, was disarming.

She rolled her eyes. “It will wrinkle anything in red.”

Investigator Levinn smiled. “Of course. Well, it would work for me. Red doesn’t suit me anyway.”

“I’ll give you a discount.”

He shook his head, still smiling. Then pointed at the assortment of everwarming mugs on display. “You have a lot of those.”

“They are my most successful product. They keep your hot drink at just the right temperature, no matter how long you let it sit.”

“Always hot tea?”

“Or coffee.”

Levinn crossed his arms. “But if you pour boiling water in the mug, and the mug keeps it at boiling temperature, that makes it undrinkable.”

“I said at just the right temperature, which is around 55 degrees Celsius. You pour boiling water in it, let it cool down a moment, and once it reaches the right temperature, the mug will maintain it.”

“What if you pour lukewarm water in it?”

Marla rolled her eyes again. “Nothing happens. It won’t warm it up.”

Investigator Levinn nodded, scratching his chin. “The mug doesn’t warm up the content—that would take way too much energy. It creates a stasis and stops its cooling instead. Smart.” He looked at Marla. “That’s impressive. May I test it?”

Marla found herself stammering. “Oh yes, but of course.” She wished he had his spectacles on, to lessen the intensity of his gaze; then she realized how stupid such a thought was and suddenly her cheeks were burning. She took a mug without looking at him and went to the counter, behind which she had her boiler. “Coffee or tea?”

“Tea, please.”

A tea drinker then. “Mint?”

“That’s perfect.”

She was pouring the hot water when a thought occurred to her. “What about the self-assorting plate? It should be done by now.”

“Right.” She heard him rummaging around. “Mhm.”

“And?” Marla went back to the porcelain room with the hot mug in her hands. A glance at the plate told her everything: the coins were still scattered across it just as Levinn had left them.

“Another faulty one!” Marla shook her head, dismayed. “I’m so sorry. Let me take it away.”

Investigator Levinn observed the plate, thoughtfully. “Do you have another one? I’d like to test it again.”

Marla pressed her lips thin. “Of course.”

As she offered him another plate—which she made sure she had tested that same week—investigator Levinn placed his coins on it. Then pointed at the previous plate.

“Would you mind keeping that aside for me?”

“The faulty one?” Marla asked, confused.

“Yes. I have a theory.”

“Oh?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you later.” He took the mug Marla had prepared for him. “This is my tea? I’ll have to leave it here for a moment. I am perplexed though, Madam Marla: why aren’t you using your own creation?”

It was Marla’s turn to raise her eyebrows.

Investigator Levinn pointed at her mug back at the counter. “I’ve seen you drink from your mug and I’m sure from the lack of steam that the temperature of your beverage isn’t 55 degrees Celsius.”

“Oh.” Marla looked to the side, embarrassed. “You’re observant. That’s my favorite mug—a creation of mine but, how to say… a lucky spell. I wasn’t able to reproduce it again.”

Levinn waited patiently.

She shrugged. “It transforms any liquid into coffee. The drink retains some of its original taste—so, let’s say, you pour in some mint tea: you now have coffee with a mint undertone.”

A smile flickered on Levinn’s face. “A coffee drinker, then.”

“Oh yes. I hope you won’t judge me too harshly for that.”

“I would have, if your spell work wasn’t so fascinating. The plate works.” He pointed at the new plate. While they were talking, the plate had rearranged the coins and neatly grouped them by value.

Marla laughed out of relief. “Finally! Please take it. It’s on the house.”

“Actually, I’ll take the faulty one, as I believe that Thomas Zopert used it.”

Marla’s eyes widened. “The plate?”

“I believe so.” Levinn searched in his coat and took out his spectacles. “Mr. Zopert’s father in law trades in magical gems. Thomas was careful and stole very few of them, but he found a way to select the most powerful one without using the diagnostic tools at his father in law’s workshop.” Investigator Levinn pointed at the groups of coins, orderly sorted from most to least valuable. “I think he was using your plates, Madam Marla.”

“But using a magic item to affect other magic items is extremely inefficient…” Marla brought a hand to her forehead. “You said magical gems? Gems absorb magic—”

“—and they absorbed the magic out of your plates, making them faulty. Thomas Zopert couldn’t just buy a set: he would eventually run out. So he kept on coming here, sorting out the gems in your shop. I suppose he must have grown comfortable and maybe left them here for the night. It explains why he came in such a rush this morning.”

Marla crossed her arms. “So my plates were alright after all.”

“Indeed.” Levinn looked at his watch. “I must go. I’ll take the faulty plate with me and study its resonance—maybe I can glean something out of it.”

“What if Thomas returns? How can I contact you?”

“I doubt he will. He knows by now that something is up.” He put on his hat as he slowly headed to the door. “But I’ll make sure to pass by again.”

“You have to. Later today, in fact. You have to come for your tea.”

Levinn paused. “Oh. The everwarming mug.” He cleared his throat. “Well, I suppose I did ask you if I could test it and it would be terribly rude of me to not check on it later.”

Marla smiled, as she returned to the counter. “I agree.”

“Well. I’ll have to pass by later, then.”

“See you later, then.”

The doorbell trilled as investigator Levinn opened the door. He nodded at Marla and left.

Marla glanced at the thermometer at her side of the counter. A pleasant 22 degrees.

She took her favorite mug, now its content gone cold, but the smell of coffee still soothing. She started humming a tune to herself as she prepared to reopen the shop.