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Archie sat on the old oak worktable, its surface scarred, burned, and deeply pitted. He calmly examined one claw as his familiar enchanted the locks on the bookstore door, closing up shop for the night. He staggered into the shop, stretching his back out with his hands on his lower back. “What a day! We had a total Karen at the café, and the book order FedEx was supposed to drop off never came!” He sagged down into what Archie knew to be a woefully uncomfortable chair. It had been wonderfully cozy two centuries ago, but now it was threadbare, the cushions gone, and Archie knew by Douxie’s wince that his backside had found more than a few errant springs.
“Your stipend came in today,” Archie flexed his claws. He had chipped one a few weeks ago, it was growing back in nicely. He scowled at the workshop beyond. It was clean, and tidy, but threadbare and worn. It had seen many years of use, nestled in its little hidden pocket dimension when they did not have a safe place to set it up to work. It had served them well for centuries. But, the sink leaked, there was not enough shelving, and one of the bookcases had broken shelves.
“Ah, good. Bills can get paid then.” Douxie ran a hand down his face.
“That is not what the stipend is for, and you know it.” Arche waited for Douxie to shift in the seat, giving him time to adjust the springs, and jumped down into his lap. Wizards lived an exceptionally long time, and while having a job was convenient for expenses that the IRS would—and frequently do—take interest in, he was able to make discrete investments in banks all over the world. Most of which worked with magic folk, mostly hedge witches who were also long-lived, and much more common than wizards.
“What do you suggest we spend it on? You seem to have something in mind.”
Archie pulled a large, unwieldy catalog into Douxie’s lap. “Time to go shopping! These modern labs have the most wonderful equipment!”
**
“Teach!” Claire pushed open the door to the workshop. Boxes littered the landing, most labeled with “This end up” but a few with “Hazardous”, “Fragile”, and arcane symbols like hands dissolving or flames, all in triangles.
“Hello, Lady Claire!” Douxie pushed a box aside, Archie’s tail sticking out of it.
“What is going on?”
Douxie held up a piece of paper, squinting at it. “Figured it was time for an upgrade.” Leaning on his knee was the lower half of a set of drawers. He pawed around in a pile of random bits of plastic and foam, holding up some kind of arcane tool.
Claire picked up the closest box, a shoebox-sized container with “GLASS: FRAGILE” in large print on the sides. 5mL glass pipettes? What? “Where did you get the money for this?” she held the box out at arm’s length? “Starting your own chemistry lab?”
Douxie shrugged, his eyes passing from the tool to the paper. “Wizards and Alchemists are the first chemists.” He put the paper down, motioned to her with the tool. “It is unbelievable how much better the potions are these days. Clean reagents, precision measuring devices, all of it!” He motioned to the pile of boxes around him. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get eye of newt!” He did not wait for her to reply waving his arms around. “They are an endangered species! It’s impossible!”
Douxie lowered his voice, “But, add a bit of bovine serum albumin to a mixture of sodium methyl sulfate and some other stuff, and there ya go!”
“Are you even speaking English?” She gently placed the box down.
He nodded. “As for the money,” Archie peered out of the box. “Wizards live a long time, and have been known to make wise investments. Every so often, they are able to cash in on them, and in a way that the IRS,” the dragon shuddered, “is not going to have issues with.” He tossed a small plastic bag to Douxie. “Looking for this?”
Douxie caught it, “Yes! Thank you Archie!” The wizard dove into a larger box, pulling out a length of metal.
Archie hopped out of the box, perching next to Claire and washing a paw. “Douxie, don’t forget your call with Arogoth the Unclean this afternoon.”
“Thanks!” Douxie’s voice was muffled by the box.
“Arogoth the Unclean?!” Claire looked down at Archie, her eyes wide. She knew that name. He was a nefarious demon of the UnderRealms, known for his vile and cruel nature.
“Of course,” he examined his claws. “Ah yes, a quick lesson on a wizard’s workspace. Wizards work with some truly noxious fumes, usually we vent those fumes to Arogoth’s lair—he so loves the fumes. Says it is great for his scales. Never asks for anything in return.” Archie leans in, whispering, “I think he is bottling and reselling it to his demonic bethren.”
“But…isn’t he evil?”
“To us, yes. To a demon, no. He keeps to himself, and is honest in his trades,” he shrugged. “Well, let us just say everyone is behaving themselves. With Douxie’s new lab—the other end, Douxie—“ the wizard waved his hand from behind a flat metal panel, “we need to redo some of the enchantments due to the workshop upgrade.”
“Lady Claire, some help?”
Claire hopped over some boxes, a mix of “This End Up”, “Glass”, and “Hazardous”. Douxie unfolded himself from the box he was half-in, pushing on a set of drawers. Behind him, a thick, black tabletop leaned on the wall. She helped him right the drawers, they were surprisingly heavy. He wiggled it into place, a meter or so from another identical set, and when satisfied, motioned her to the tabletop. That was heavier than it looked as well.
When the tabletop was place on the drawers, she stood back, hands on her hips. “This…this looks like a bench from my chemistry classroom!”
Douxie shrugged. “Probably is, it is the budget set.”
Behind him, where the tabletop had been leaning, was a matched set of flammable and corrosive cabinets, the bright yellow and blue in stark contrast to the ancient bookshelves lining the far wall, some with new shelves of pale wood. Above the cabinets was another small tabletop, filled with a random assortment of small boxes. This tabletop was enclosed, with a metal back, glass sides, and a moveable glass front. A small fume hood? The back of the hood had arcane symbols etched into it.
On one side was a modern glass cabinet, and on the other, an ancient set small oaken drawers, carefully labeled with their contents. Douxie surveyed it all, hands on his hips. “Now that I am a Master Wizard, I had better act the part. I’ve been making do for too long.”
“And how many times have I told you the same?” Archie hopped up on the bench.
Douxie rolled his eyes. “Care to help put all this away?” One hand waved over the sea of mismatched boxes.
“Might as well, I have a feeling I will be cleaning all of this.”
Douxie laughed. “True that!” He looked around, selecting an empty box from the pile on the floor. “Now that I have extras, you get your own set of gear!” Claire’s eyes lit up. “However,” he placed the box on the benchtop. “These are older tools. Their calibration enchantments have worn off. Your first task,” he glanced around the messy room. “Your second task is to refresh them.”
“Calibration enchantments?”
He nodded, opening one of the drawers in the oak cabinet next to the hood. “For making potions, you have to use the right amount of reagents, or they won’t work.” He pulled out a blue tube with a white wheel on one side, “At best, nothing will happen, or the effect is harmless. At worse,” he shrugged. “At worst, good thing Jim’s mother is a doctor.”
He turned to her, “And you must use good reagents! No using anything without letting Archie, Zoe, or I examine it.”
Douxie leaned on the bench. “Some we can gather or grow. For those we can’t, I will show you how and where to order your supplies, as well as setting up access to an account to pay for it.” He picked up a box, proclaiming itself as “Flammable”. “Most you can purchase online, some you will have to get from the Troll Market.” He opened the box, pulling out a tightly bound bag. A sheaf of paper fluttered out. He set that to the side and opened the bag, fishing out the bottle and placing it in the “Flammable” cabinet.
“Some items can’t be acquired from the Troll Market, but we can gather or buy them easily enough. You can use those as barter.” Another complexly packed bottle was unwrapped, this one placed in the “Corrosive” cabinet.
“Hand me that blue box, will you love?”
The box was very heavy for its size. “What is in here?”
“Rocks, gemstones,” he opened the box, sorting out bags of crystals. “There is a crystal purveyor that sells bulk and wholesale.” He placed the crystals in the oak cabinet. “I haven’t had much to focus on my own duties and studies here as of late.” He turned to grin at her. “And don’t blame yourself, Claire. Life has been chaotic for all of us.”
She chuckled. “No kidding!” Her time was taken up working at the college bookstore, taking a few college classes herself, and nightly talks with Jim. He had an aptitude for fighting and improvisation that had impressed a Troll guard in the New Jersey Troll Market, and he spent much of his time over there. Her brother was toddling all over the house, and she occasionally babysat for Jim’s adopted brother as well.
The rest of the day, and the next, was spent organizing, with Douxie describing what each reagent was used for as he put them away. Her notebook was soon filled with notes and drawings. He had her pay extra close attention to the runes inscribed on the fume hood and a small sink—these where the agreed upon runes that led to Arogoth’s Lair. The demon was a nice enough fellow, if a bit demanding, but the runes had to be perfect and exactly to his specifications, to make sure that the chemical fumes, and waste that was poured into the sink, arrived where they were supposed to. He was not going to have a repeat of the Great Acid Spill of 1887 that ruined his obsidian floors.
**
Zoe leaned on the doorframe to Douxie’s workshop. The Wizard was fast asleep, his head buried in his arms at the new workbench. Her eyes passed over the room, approvingly. His Apprentice Claire sat at her own small desk, already cluttered with notes and a few crystals. Archie looked up from where he sat at Claire’s feet, holding a paw to his mouth. Zoe nodded, stepping quietly inside with the new set of Arikidion pipetters that Krel wanted Douxie to test out. He kept insisting on seeing how well magic and Arikidion tech worked together. Claire grunted as Zoe pulled up a new stool, sitting next to the desk.
Claire did not look up from her careful drawing. She was using that special hexagonal graph paper used in dreaded organic chemistry classes to draw careful and delicate runes. The tip of her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth.
They conversed quietly, letting Douxie nap. At one point, Zoe had draped a thin blanket over his shoulders. “What has he been up to?” she whispered.
Claire shrugged. “I know he’s been spending more time over at Krel’s, and then the Café and the bookstore.” She gnawed at the end of her pencil. “I’ve been trying to get him to hire me to work here, but he won’t hear of it.”
Zoe nodded. “Sounds like something he would do. He always forgets that he isn’t alone anymore.” She reached down absently rubbed at Archie’s ears. “If this next set of Krel’s tinkering works out, Douxie can make a lot more potions to sell at the Troll Market. He should be able to quit the café, and you can work the bookstore to keep an eye on him.”
Claire chuckled. Last night she had to pull a particularly nasty enchanted sliver out of his hand. It had managed to drain some of his magic, but the sliver was small and soon it ran out of capacity. The shard in question lay in a small box by his head. Zoe was to pick it up and take it to Krel.
After Claire told Zoe about the shard, the hedge witch passed a quick magical glance at her old friend. Douxie shifted in his sleep, but that is all it was. A much needed nap. His neck was going to kill him when he roused. His hand twitched on the book that was wedged under his arms. Zow took a peek at it, making sure he wasn’t drooling on it.
It was an old grimoire on healing magic. Finally. He was finally studying one of his weakest subjects. Perhaps not so weak, the scar on his wrist that he had since she knew him looked thinner. Zoe walked back to Claire. “He’s been practicing healing, hasn’t he?”
Claire nodded, leaning back in her seat. “I keep trying to get him to talk to Jim’s Mom—a doctor—to get some pointers. But you know Douxie,” she shrugged. “Stubborn.”
Zoe could feel Claire’s eye on her, she looked over at the apprentice. “You love him, don’t you?”
Zoe chewed on her bottom lip. “We’ve known each other a very long time. Hard not to.”
“You’re lucky,” Claire gazed sadly down at her work. “I know Jim’s human now, but we don’t know what kind of an effect that Merlin’s magic had on him when he was turned into a troll. We don’t know how long he will live,” she sniffled. “At least he still craves the occasional sock, that’s something at least.” Zoe placed a hand on her shoulder, and Claire covered it with her own. “I don’t know how much time we have together. Could be decades, could be centuries, but I do know I will get as much as I can out of every minute.” She looked up at Zoe. “You should do the same with Douxie.”
Zoe looked at the dozing wizard. He shifted in his sleep, digging his face deeper into his arms. She already almost lost him once, she wasn’t sure she could go through that again. Secretly, she was thrilled he was spending so much time on projects with Krel and not chasing shadow-beasts in the alleys. Safer, that way, or at least she hoped.
He shivered slightly, grumbling and shifting deeper into the blanket. He lifted his head, blinking awake. Zoe smiled, he had creases in his cheek from the fabric of his hoody. A sure sign of a well-needed nap. “Good morning,” She kissed the top of his head.
A sleepy grunt was his response. Douxie leaned back in the stool, stretching his arms.
“Good nap, Teach?”
“How long?” He looked up at Zoe, who towered over him.
Zoe smiled down at him. “Long enough for Claire and I to have a good talk.”
“Am I in trouble?”
She laughed, “No! No. But…we do need to discuss a few things.”
“I just remembered,” Claire stood, gathering up her supplies. “I have a date with Jim tonight. Don’t want to be late, now would I?”
Douxie watched her leave. “That was a hint, wasn’t it?”
Zoe hummed, sitting on the table. She ran a hand over the not-yet marred matte black top. “New gear, I see. Krel was gushing when he saw that you upgraded.” She looked up the to the fume hood. “And, I don’t have to listen to Arogoth’s complaining about your enchantments.”
He chuckled. “True. It has been nice, staying at home and tinkering.”
“I have appreciated having you around.” She looked at Douxie out of the corner of her eye. He was staring off into the distance, a small, fond smile on his face. When he saw her looking, he startled, his face darkening with a furious blush.
Zoe laughed as her own blush threated to overwhelm her. She stood, kissing the top of his head. “Get up, dinner, my pace, one hour.” None of these were suggestions.
“Finally,” Archie rolled his eyes, sauntering out of the room before calling over his shoulder, “Loverboy! You heard the lady, chop chop!”
**
“Ahem.” Archie stood on a box at the foot of Douxie’s bed. It was one of the many boxes left over from the workshop/lab upgrade, and he had taken a fancy to it. It was a fine box, double-thick walls and large enough to curl up in while he was in his dragon form. The “Flammable” label on its sides was just a bonus.
He resisted the temptation to bat at a blanket-covered foot. He was not sure whose foot it was, after all.
It had been three weeks since Zoe ordered Douxie to dinner, and the two wizards had spent more time together. Arche knew Douxie had been sleeping better; there were fewer nightmares that he had to comfort his familiar through. Zoe had confided in Claire that she was experiencing fewer nightmares as well. Claire had looked at her with knowing eyes far too old for her actual age and stated that, “Helps, having someone there.”
“Ahem.” This was not a day off. They took advantage of the bookstore being closed on Sunday to focus on Claire’s schoolwork, both mundane and magical.
A foot twitched. Oh, blast it. Archie was hungry, the workshop needed to be tidied up for lessons, and the dragon did not care whose foot it was that he swatted.
The foot retreated, and someone grunted. That would be Douxie. Another swat. “Up and at ‘em! I am hungry!” He sat up, crossing his arms. Another grunt. “Do not make me wake you up like the cat I appear to be!”
“I’m up, I’m up.” That was Zoe. She was more of a morning person than Douxie, usually dragging herself out of bed first to make tea or coffee.
A scarred arm flopped about, falling to the bed. Ah yes, Douxie, the night owl. Archie knew that it would take a great force of will for his familiar to emerge from his blanket cocoon. He was grateful for Zoe, her breakfast preparations always hastened the process.
Zoe sat up, her back to Archie. She had fewer scars on her back than Douxie, but still carried her fair share. He licked at a paw while she pulled on one of Douxie’s tee shirts. She slipped her feet into slippers, stumbling into the small kitchenette. Douxie grunted, a pale arm pawing at where her warmth used to be.
Archie jumped up on the bed. “Good morning, Douxie.”
Grunt.
“Yes, yes, I know. But Lady Claire is arriving in an hour, and I dare say you might want to be awake for the event. Sir Jim is making breakfast.”
Grunt, and a stirring of blankets. A mop of blue-tinged bedhead peered out from under the blanket. Another soft grunt as he sat up. He had been practicing his healing spells—while his back was criss-crossed with scars, those scars were diminished.
Archie curled up in the warm spot Douxie left behind, as the wizard drug himself to the bathroom.
**
Archie was doubly grateful for the lab upgrade. The last of the new cabinets arrived a few days ago, and it gave Zoe a place to put the gear and supplies she had brought over. She kept using the excuse that it was cheaper to buy in bulk and split supplies. The dragon knew nesting when he saw it. Not only did the hedge witch lay claim to the new shelves, she also bought a dresser that now lived in Douxie’s closet. She and Douxie had cast some spells on the place, giving it a proper kitchen and a comfortable enough living room.
The small balcony outside was lined with an assortment of Zoe’s herbs in pots. Nari will be thrilled at the plants; she always bugged Douxie that he needed more life around him when they were roommates so long ago.
Zoe may not want to admit it, but she was slowly moving in. The nights where she stayed at her own place were becoming rare.
Archie stretched. Nari was coming over today. She had announced a visit out of the blue, sending a butterfly with the message scrolled delicately on its wings. Douxie and Zoe were in the apartment, cleaning up.
The new reading chair, sitting next to the main window in the workshop, was Archie’s favorite place to curl up in the sun and bask. And a convenient place to keep a watch on the street outside and on Douxie and Zoe as they puttered about the workshop.
Nari skipped down the street, more carefree than Archie had seen her in a long time. He hopped down to greet the nymph as she entered the bookstore. “Hello, Nari!”
She smiled widely, scooping him up in her arms. “Hello, Archibald!” She scratched under his chin, being one of the very few beings that could get away with such behavior. “I was checking in on Douxie, and he was so happy! I had to see for myself.”
“He is upstairs, with…” he looked around, as if it was some great conspiracy, “Zoe.”
“Zoe?” She paused, chewing a lip in thought. “Ah yes, pink hair, hedge witch?”
“The same!”
“I think…I think I owe you something. There was a bet, right? Am I remembering that right?”
Archie laughed, “No, no, no. It’s quite all right!” He hopped down, sauntering up the stairs. “Douxie, Zoe!” he called up, “Nari is here!”
Douxie’s head popped out of around a corner, “Hello, Nari! How are Belroc and Skreal?”
She smiled, tiny hands clasped in front of her. “They are well. Belroc is at Mt St Helens, observing some scientists studying the new dome. Skreal is hiding out in a NOAA lab at the South Pole. They are amazed with how far the humans have come, and how much they desire to save this world.”
The wizard smiled, “That’s good. I am glad they found their calling like you did.”
She hopped up the stairs. “Perhaps when things are better for them, they can visit you and Archie and Zoe?”
“Perhaps.” He pulled back around the corner, and Nari followed him into the apartment. She smiled, taking in their auras. While Douxie and Archie were always intwined, their souls—mostly Douxie—were now tangled in a beautiful lacework of roots and vines with Zoe. A love long formed, deeply lived.
She wrapped her arms around each of them, “I am so glad you found each other! Your love is so deep!”
Zoe smiled, and blushed softly. “Uh, thanks?”
What was this? It was not rare for two magical beings to be so closely entwinned, it was a natural side effect of not only magic, but their long history with one another. She placed a small hand on Zoe’s stomach.. She looked up at Zoe, her eyes wide. She was ancient, seeing countless births and deaths, but the process never ceased to amaze her. A small spark, a small wiggle of life.
Douxie looked from Nari’s amazed, wide gaze to Zoe’s stomach, to Zoe’s face. He paled. “Uh…”
Archie stood up. “Nari, does this mean what I think it means?”
Nari nodded, smiling brightly. Douxie sat down abruptly. “It’s not possible…is it?”
“Apparently,” Zoe laughed, one hand over Nari’s.
“But how?” Douxie stared at something, Nari wasn’t sure what.
“The usual way, I would assume,” Archie sauntered over to Douxie, rubbing against his legs.
“But…but…wizards aren’t supposed to be able to…”
Nari turned to face him. “There are not enough wizards in the world, Douxie. Now,” she shrugged, “There is going to be one more.”
**
11:59 pm, All Hallow’s Eve, Guinevere Casperan came screaming into the world. Douxie sat by the bedside, brushing his fingers through Zoe’s damp hair. The birth had been average, the pregnancy the same. He doesn’t know how much of it was anti-nausea magic, Nari’s doing, or their own connection to magic.
Archie’s paternal instincts had kicked in, he sat in Douxie’s lap licking at Gwen’s soft, downy hair. Claire was out in the waiting room, busily and happily texting everyone about the new arrival.
It had been a busy year. An upgraded workshop. Upgraded relationship. Upgraded family.
Time for an upgrade, indeed.