Chapter Eleven - A Simple Plan

Dreamer’s plan was very simple.

They needed more guests to come into the cafe, so she’d set up a spell that would summon nice people who needed the kinds of things that they sold at the cafe. Dreamer didn’t know too much about business, but she did know that the founding principle behind a good business was the same as what made a bed a good bed.

A good bed was good if it was able to provide a necessary resource (sleep) to clients who were looking for that resource (sleepy people). A good bed provided services around its main product as well (blankets) and would go out of its way to ensure that the product was as good as possible (By providing cuddle friends).

Just like the market was regulated by an invisible hand, a good bed also had its own system of regulation (Abigail’s hands shaking Dreamer awake). Businesses were regulated and forced to pay taxes, (just like how sleeping people paid Dreamer in dreams) and if they didn’t, there were repercussions (nightmares).

Basically, Dreamer had it all figured out. She just needed to think about how to get all of that knowledge to apply to the cafe.

In the end, she decided to go with the simplest solution. She’d grab a head of magical stuff and make it cast the same spells over and over again.

First, a spell to see if it was the right time to summon someone.

This spell would check the cafe and make sure that there were people working there, and that Dreamer was around to greet new people. Very simple stuff.

Second, a spell to look for someone that needed something the cafe provided. The cafe had a bunch of stuff, but mostly Dreamer was thinking about the food and the atmosphere. Abigail said that that was an important part of the cafe experience, having a quiet place that someone could relax in, either alone or with a few friends. It was supposed to be very romantic and stuff.

Third, Dreamer needed to narrow down that selection of people. There would be lots of people that wanted to use the cafe because it was such an awesome place, but it would suck if it filled up.

Actually, that gave Dreamer another idea.

First-point-one, she had to make sure that the spell didn’t trigger when the cafe had guests already. Otherwise it would just fill up.

She nodded. The spell was becoming a bit of a tangled mess, but she was sure that was fine.

Fourth, she needed the spell to grab people that were cool. That was a tricky thing to narrow down. What made a person cool? The way they talked? The number of sunglasses they owned? The amount of time they spent playing with tentacles?

Dreamer eventually dismissed all of those. If she couldn’t narrow down coolness, then she could at least pick out people that were important. Shoving a hole through the fabric of reality next to her, Dreamer stuck out a meta tentacle, the same one from page 242 of the first edition print of Love Crafted (available at an Amazon near you) and cut off the tip of it.

That would help her only grab narratively important people.

Fifth... actually, she couldn’t think of a fifth, so instead Dreamer squeezed and squished all the spell stuff together, bashing some of it into the right shape with some old-fashioned tentacling, then she stood back and surveyed her work.

Magic itself was weeping, but the spell was holding together, too afraid to come undone after Dreamer had put so much effort into crafting it.

“That works,” she said.

Grabbed the spell with yet another tentacle, she shoved it down and cast it at the cafe.

Everything went green for a moment, but that passed soon enough and after Dreamer tasted the air and made sure it was all good, she pronounced it good.

“Dreamer?!” Abigail called from the stairs.

“Yes?” Dreamer asked.

“Are you okay?” Feet thump-thumped and soon Abigail appeared in their apartment’s entrance looking worried and stuff. “You just ran off, and the, uh, clone out front is crying because she can’t get anyone to take her pamphlets. I was worried.”

“Sorry,” Dreamer said. “I was doing a thing, and I couldn’t just be at the front, I needed to be here too.”

“Uh, alright,” Abigail said. “Is everything alright? I thought I saw a green light?”

“It’s good,” Dreamer said.

“You haven’t summoned anyone?”

“No.”

“Killed any gods? Started a religion? Ended a religion? Eaten someone that can think?”

Dreamer shook her head. She had done none of those things since the last time Abigail asked. “I’ve been behaving, and I haven’t hurt anyone.” Magic wasn’t someone, so it was okay. And technically, if her spell went wrong and hurt someone, that would be in the future, not now.

“Alright, good,” Abigail said. “Did you want to come down? Charlotte’s trying the different sorts of cakes we have, and Daphne and I were preparing ourselves some tea. If we can’t serve anyone, we can at least serve ourselves.”

“I like that idea,” Dreamer said. “Can I have cake and tea?”

Abigail reached down and did a hand wiggle for Dreamer to grab. “Have you been behaving?”

“I behaved like myself.”

Abigail giggled. “That’s not all that reassuring, you know? Come on, you can have a bit of cake.”

“How many cakes is a bit of cake?” Dreamer asked. Was this one of those things like a flock of ravens being called a murder, but more about cake?

“A bit is how much I can afford to give you,” Abigail said. “Before I need to bake more.”

“So how can we make the bit bigger?”

She got a headpat for asking important questions, but they didn’t talk about it much more, because soon Dreamer was downstairs with friends and there was cake and laughter and fun. That was, until the door’s bell rang and a very weird group stepped in, wet from a rain that wasn’t happening.

At least Dreamer knew her spell was working!

***