The Charm Net

Part One

It wasn’t the green lightning from last night’s tempest that nagged at Eva as she gazed down the lane of various shops in the village.  She’d been among those who saw it in person, and now that word had spread, several residents in the area were spooked.

Of all the arcane beings that lurked in the hidden places of the world, one that could affect a force as powerful as lightning could only be equally powerful.  And more benevolent hexers didn’t announce their proximity so blatantly.  The ones that tended to be more neutral in their attitudes toward humans were also more content to stay in their hidden places.

But the pressing matter Eva had to confront urged her to push that event to the back of her mind.

She tugged her cloak tighter to her neck against the chill of early spring.  A light breeze twirled the loose tendrils of her pinned-up, ash blonde hair.  The ragged, gray clouds overhead limped across the sky as though battered from the overnight storm, and shallow puddles lay scattered on the flagstone walkway.

“Let’s have at it, then,” she murmured, and walked into the first shop, Seams Sew Right.

But they didn’t need any additional clerks or even somebody to sweep up the place.  She stepped into the next shop, and the next, but everyone told her the same thing.  They weren’t hiring.

And it seemed like most of them were distracted and distant to her inquiry, perhaps fretting about the unnatural storm and what might happen next.

She shouldn’t blame them, she supposed, and debated whether to mention the urgency of her quest.  But their general disconcertion suggested otherwise.  And to make things worse, Potion Peddler was busy.

That shouldn’t have been a surprise.  Mere humanity had little recourse against magical beings beyond applying potions that targeted weaknesses in their spells.  At first Eva hoped that would motivate them to hire another clerk.  Instead, they didn’t have time to talk about such matters now.

With a sigh and a sinking heart, she stepped back out onto the wet flagstone and gazed up the lane she’d come down.  There were no more shops or businesses….

Wait a minute.

The ramshackle shack just outside of town, barely close enough to notice where it peeked out from behind a stand of budding trees, had been spruced up since her previous visit to the village last week.  Eva strode closer to confirm what she was seeing.

Yes, the building had been painted the soft yellow of risen cream.  The doors and windows had been repaired and the color on their trim mimicked velvety sage leaves.  And over the door perched a broad sign, blue letters emblazoning a single word:

Solutions.

Was this a new shop?  And if so, what types of solutions were sold there?  If this was a new establishment, maybe they needed to hire some help.  Unless they’d hired everybody they needed already….

She wouldn’t know unless she asked.

Eva drew a deep breath, shoved down her apprehension, and strode thirty paces down the lane.  She then stepped inside the building.

Goodness, somebody had accomplished much in a week’s time.  Not only was the plank floor polished, the hewn beams overhead had been rubbed to a warm glow.  Equally immaculate shelves lined the walls and formed a couple of aisles in the middle of the room.  Various books and boxes of all colors were arranged neatly atop them.  A subtle but musky aroma lingered.

Books.  This seemed promising.  She enjoyed reading books.

An elderly, bearded gentleman walked out from what might be the storeroom behind the counter.  He smiled as he paused beside the ornate cash register.

“Good morning, miss.”  His bass voice could have belonged to a younger, brawnier man.  “May I help you find something?”

“Well, yes.”  She returned the smile, slightly forced because her heart was fluttering but also downtrodden from her earlier failures.  Eva strode the few paces toward him.  “I hope so.  I mean, I’m not here to buy something.  Actually, I was hoping – you need to hire some help?”

He raised one eyebrow.  The merchant was as groomed as this cottage, with his gray hair and white beard clipped and combed.  His dark blue coat matched the slacks, and a blue cornflower peeked out from the pocket of a red vest.

“You have an affinity for puzzles?”

“Oh, is that what you sell?”  Her face grew warm, and Eva gritted her teeth.  This had to be her most inept inquiry yet.  Odds were he would turn her away as well.

But his smile broadened.  “Every kind of puzzle you can imagine, my girl.  Word puzzles, picture puzzles, mysteries and games.  And although I do love a mystery, I believe I’ll go ahead and ask:  Why are you so eager to get a job?”

Eva swallowed, afraid she might stammer in her response.  This was no time to reveal her purpose.

“I … need money like everyone else.”

The merchant tilted his head, and his gaze seemed to burrow into her.  “I’ve been around long enough to recognize when someone’s pursuing a goal.  What is it, lass?  Do you want a new dress?  Or perhaps some jewelry?”

She gawked at him.  Perhaps his forthrightness rattled her all the more because, unlike the other proprietors, he didn’t keep glancing out the windows or surveying the room.  His attention was fully on her.  And he was smiling as though she amused him.

There was nothing amusing about her purpose, however, and Eva inhaled deeply to settle her nerves before replying.

“No, it’s nothing like that.  I….”

Did she dare tell him?  Would it change anything?  He did seem like a pleasant fellow, and he hadn’t turned her away already, despite her clumsy inquiry.  Maybe she should go ahead and let him know why she needed this job.

“It’s for my brother.”  Her gaze slid to the floor.  “We just found out a couple of days ago that he’s very sick.  The local doctors can’t help him, but if we take him to Repostia they have the resources to cure him … possibly.  It’s an expensive trip for expensive medicine.”  Her gaze returned to his face.  “So you’re right.  That’s what I want the money for.”

His smile waned to subtle.  “It does seem callous to say no when the reason is that important.”

He regarded her for a few seconds.  Was he considering the possibility of hiring her?  Or was he trying to come up with the kindest way to turn her down?

Then he nodded.  “I’ll tell you what, if you can prove you’re good at puzzles, I’ll give you the job.  It is just me around here, after all, and it could get busier as more customers find this place.”

Eva’s heart skipped a beat.  “What do I need to do?”

“We’ll see if you can solve something simple.”  He stepped behind the counter and pulled out a sheet of heavy paper and a fountain pen.  “I call this one the Charm Net.  I offer it as a free trial to potential customers.”

Her brow furrowed.  “Charm Net?”

“It’s a charming way to capture candidates.”  His smile broadened as he pushed the pen and paper toward her.  “Are you familiar with anagrams?”

“I believe so.”

“This one is short and straightforward.  The letters are arranged in a way that formulates one sentence.  But if you rearrange those same letters, you reveal the true sentence.”

She glanced down at the paper.  It was blank except for one statement at the top:

Stop these chartmen who bathe an ear tip.

Eva frowned.  “What does that mean?”

That is nonsense.  To figure out the original sentence, you first find the key word, the anchor.  One of these words shares the same letters as its anagram.  But the letters of the remaining words are rearranged at random throughout the rest of the sentence.”

“I think I understand.”  She nodded.  “And considering I’ve never heard the word chartmen before, that would seem to be your anchor.”

He grinned.  “You are a quick study.”

“So let’s see….”  She scribbled those letters in different orders, and on the fourth attempt penned a word that prompted her to squint back up at him.  “Merchant?”

“Extraordinary start!”

The door to his shop opened, and Eva recognized the middle-aged woman who entered the room.  This was a small community, so everybody was familiar with everybody, but she had never chatted with this resident.  The merchant tapped on the paper.

“See what you can accomplish while I wait on her.”

Eva tackled the task with renewed vigor.  If this could get her a job, if this could help her earn the money to get her brother the treatment he needed, then she would find the solution to this puzzle.

She wrote out the remaining letters and rewrote them in different configurations, striking out the ones she used.  When the words didn’t all work out, she tried again.

Despite her concentration, she overheard the woman ask for something that would be a good distraction from the green lightning omen.  The gentleman made his recommendations with the same smooth confidence.  He was neither surprised nor concerned about the event.

Maybe Eva would find out later why it didn’t worry him.  She would have plenty of time for that if he hired her.  She focused on the letters, and words started coming together.  And then she shuffled them into a pattern that formed an actual sentence.

The woman bought a boxed puzzle, and as the customer left the shop, Eva stared at the new configuration:

The merchant is not what he appears to be.

She looked up and frowned at her potential employer.  “Is this right?”

He looked at the paper and grinned again.  And then he chuckled.  And then he laughed.

What was happening?  Had she flubbed solving the puzzle that badly?  Or … or was something else going on?  She took a step back and gaped at him.

“What – what does this mean?”  Her heart thumped against her chest.  “Is this some kind of – of spell?”

Did this have anything to do with the green lightning?

His grin remained broad as he held out his arms.  “Bright gleaming fireflies!  You’re hired!”

Her head spun.  Eva clapped her hands over her ears as a dull roar filled them and the shop seemed to evaporate into a yellow mist.  And then the fog cleared, and she stood in a ramshackle shack, sagging beams and floor covered in dust.

The bass voice behind her prompted Eva to twist around.  “Shall we get to work?”

Instead of the elderly gentleman, a young man stood before her.  His dark hair was tousled and he was clean shaven, but the blue suit and red vest were the same.  And that smile was familiar.

He also stood between her and the door hanging at an angle by one hinge.

It seemed that whatever a charm net was, she had been ensnared.

###

Here is this month’s contribution to #BlogBattle, and the prompt word this time is Merchant.  You might have noticed this is the beginning of what will be a longer work.  Ultimately it will still be a short story, but will be produced in approximately 2000 word bites.

Check back for future installments, and be sure to discover the other submissions this month!

Unless You Don’t Feel Like It

There are many things in life, including writing, that demand discipline to get accomplished when your motivation seems to have gone on vacation.

We’ve all had those mornings when getting out of bed doesn’t seem worth it, or heading out to work only feels like drudgery.  But one of the characteristics that make us human is the fact we can rise above our feelings.

Think of the chaos that would ensue if the rules of society were amended to accommodate feelings:

Take a shower and brush your teeth, unless you don’t feel like it.

Feed any pets you have, unless you don’t feel like it.

Love your neighbor as yourself, unless you don’t feel like it.

Stop when the traffic light turns red, unless you don’t feel like it.

A society ruled by feelings might make a good backdrop for a dystopian story, but I suspect it would be a rather short story.  Writing, like practically everything else in life, is an accomplishment that must be tackled even when you don’t feel like it.  Yet accomplishing something always gives you a good feeling.

Yes, this post is shorter than normal, but at least it got written, even though I didn’t feel like blogging….