“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Natalie asked as the scents and sounds of Funkytown engulfed them. “Going here without Perry, I mean?”

A lumbering troll gave the two of them a wide, snaggletoothed grin as they passed, each tusk the size of Nat’s forearm.

“As a rule, no.” Heather said, plowing on through the milling crowd of pedestrian fantasy creatures without a second glance at any of the oddities passing them by. “But I did buy an insurance policy from Dave,” she thumbed over her shoulder, where a faceless creature wearing loose wrappings followed them with jerky motions. The other residents of Funkytown gave the disturbing puppet a wide berth.

“And Dave is, at the very least, upfront about what he sells.” Heather finished, her gaze scanning the street signs ahead of them. “Besides, you guys…” Heather went silent, choking off whatever she’d been about to say.

“What about us?” Natalie asked, peering up at the gorgeous strawberry blonde. Was Heather jealous? Upset about something? Something Nat had done? “Heather?”

“Here’s the Nocul district,” Heather changed the subject with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, pointing at the sign above the intersection.

Gintax Blvd.

The fiery-haired superheroine paused at the intersection and looked both ways before turning left, finally settling on a tiny shopfront called:

Mysteries Beyond Death

Underneath the window was a familiar sign.

Surgeon General’s Warning:

The surgeon general does not acknowledge the existence of a ‘life force’. However, promising it to certain creatures in exchange for services rendered or supernatural powers has been shown to cause fatigue, anemia, premature aging, or death.

“You know,” Heather remarked as they approached the shop, “This is really reminding me of the time Perry and I went out in Washington. Worst/Best experience of my life. I got to bludgeon my dad to double-death with a frying pan. Maybe the second time’s the charm.”

“Why the Nocul?” Natalie asked, keeping her head on a swivel. “Don’t they hate us?”

“They hate Perry. They’ll probably take my money.” Heather said with a shrug. “Probably.”

They entered the class door, suddenly feeling engulfed by sights and smells the shop, which stacked books and odd curios so closely together as to be nearly claustrophobic. Somehow it felt like a great big hug from a grandmother.

“Greetings, fellow travellers!” A woman from behind the counter said, welcoming them in as they approached. She was older, with the definitive features of a Nocul, and wrapped in an oversized green robe that made her neck pop out and look a bit like a turtle.

Based on Perry’s offhanded comments about Nocul, Nat guessed this woman was over three hundred years old, and had spent the vast majority of her life living in Manita. She also must’ve been lucky enough to catch a ride, or powerful enough to make the trip to Earth on her own when her planet was abandoned.

Common sense dictated caution. Either she was well-loved, or powerful. Maybe both.

“Ah, humans?” She asked, peering down at them. “How unusual. My name is Amelie, and this is my shop, Mysteries Beyond Death. How can I help?” The old woman’s gaze flicked up to the entrance when the jerky doll entered the shop. Her eyes widened momentarily, but she took it in stride.

“My name is Heather, and I’ve got a ghost problem,” Heather said, pulling out Anya and placing the iron club on the counter.

“You wish for me to exorcise the spirit?” The nocul asked, reaching towards the club.

“No!” Heather said, physically interposing her own hand between Amelie and the club before checking herself and lowering her voice. “No, Anya is a friend, and I want to…work together with her more closely. Give her a boost.”

“Huh,” the old woman frowned before pointing at the club. “May I?”

Heather pulled her hand away and the Nocul hefted the iron club.

“Hmm…strong spiritual imprint. She’s in fine condition, and the cold-processing of the club didn’t cause any damage, either…Who did this work?”

“A friend.” Heather said, obviously not wanting to bring Perry up in front of a Nocul.

The nocul leaned forward and smelled the iron club, her rheumy eyes rolled back in her skull for a moment.

“Paradox Zauberer. You’ve got distinguished friends.”

Her gaze flickered over to Natalie, and a shiver ran down her entire spine as the woman’s near-blind gaze went straight through her. “And a Priestess of Requiem, too. How rare.”

A tense moment passed between them, and Natalie held her breath. Finally, the aged nocul let out a sigh and let her shoulders fall.

“Relax, children. At my advanced age, I find it distasteful to blame people for the house they were born into. Even if I were to pursue revenge against that witch for leaving my entire family to die, I wouldn’t do it through her daughter’s son’s friends.”

“Besides, everyone knows the woman’s ego is her only weakness,” Amelie muttered with a scowl. “Heather, was it? Lean closer. Don’t worry, that puppet of Dave’s would kill me should I try anything untoward.”

Heather frowned and leaned closer.

The old woman raised the iron club above her head and placed a gnarled hand over Heather’s skull. Heather shuddered in place for an instant before Amelie let go of her.

“Good compatibility between you and Anya…yes, there should be no problem using her in a Nocul Binding Ritual.”

The old woman set the club aside and began rummaging through the shelves behind her, before returning with a massive grimoire that seemed to be bound in pale, thin leather.

The old woman flipped through the weather-beaten pages, humming to herself under her breath, just slightly louder than the turning of pages, her tongue popping out the corner of her mouth.

“With this level of compatibility…you can use this,” Natalie flinched in surprise as the old woman callously tore out a page from her grimoire and placed it on the counter, only to stare in amazement as the page grew back in seconds, while the Nocul text on the original page began to blacken as if it were burning, censoring a large portion of the text.

“This, this, or this,” Amelie said, ripping out three more spells from her grimoire before closing the book on the still-healing pages and setting it aside.

The ancient death-worshipper laid out the four pages so that they were facing Heather, then muttered a guttural phrase and waved her hand across the pages.

In a matter of seconds, the text squirmed and rearranged itself into English.

“There you go, dearies, that should make it a bit easier to read.” The ancient woman said, standing back from the pages, giving Heather and Nat the chance to read them.

Possessed Weapon (Difficulty: Intermediate)

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When the spell is complete, the weapon will permanently be wielded by the imbued ghost, allowing it to attack and defend independently of its owner. Strength is related to the quality of the spirit.

Low compatibility spirits are not advised, as they may try to slay their masters.

Resolution and Inheritance (Difficulty: Master)

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In return, the ritual user will inherit a large portion of the spirit’s intelligence, skills, and talent, adding it to their own. The amount is based on compatibility.

Wraith-Lord (Difficulty: Advanced)

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If successful, the spirit will become a Wraith serving the caster, sharing abilities with their liege, and becoming capable of physically acting on the material plane for short periods of time. Total Power is related to spirit quality, and the extent of abilities shared depends on compatibility.

Low compatibility spirits are not advised, as their wraiths may attempt to sabotage their masters.

Ghost Strike (Difficulty: Expert)

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As a result, all of the caster’s attacks will be permanently imbued with ethereal damage, striking the soul as well as the body, chipping away at both the desire and ability to resist.

“That one,” Heather said, putting her finger down on Wraith-Lord without a moment’s hesitation.

Natalie frowned. It was hard to decide which one was the best. Maybe resolution and inheritance? It was not an insubstantial thing to add another person’s intelligence and talent to your own. It would make Heather that much more awesome. The only caviat was that it sounded like it would be difficult to pull off, if ‘Master’ difficulty was any indication.

“Why that one?” Natalie asked, pointing at Wraith-Lord.

Heather gave her a brilliant smile. “’Cuz it’s got my name in it. This spell was made for me.”

Nat groaned and buried her face in her hands.

“I’m kidding,” Heather said with a laugh, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and drawing her up against her side, causing Nat’s heart to skip a beat as her face smooshed against something soft.

“Look at Ghost Strike and Resolution and Inheritance. Nowhere is it even alluded to that I’ll still be able to talk to Anya, or that she’ll have her own free will. If anything it seems like those spells consume her like a thing to fuel some kind of power-up.”

“Then if you look at the Possessed Weapon, while it seems like she’ll have free will, she’ll be bound to an iron club forever. That doesn’t sound good to me. Which leaves Wraith-Lord. If she can manifest for short periods of time, that will give her the ability to state her opinion clearly, and if she gets even a little bit of my powers, she’ll be able to make some wicked attacks, literally out of thin air.”

“You’ve got a keen mind, young lady. Does that spell meet your satisfaction?” Amelie asked.

“That depends, is there anything better out there you’re not telling me about?” Heather asked, leaning forward eagerly.

“Yes, but I deduced you wouldn’t be interested in consuming your friend or sacrificing her to a malicious outer deity to be abused for all eternity.” Amelie said without a trace of irony, which made Natalie’s hair stand on end. Those things actually exist?

“Oh,” Heather said, recoiling. “No. Eww. No. Wraith-Lord, please.”

The elder nocul waved a dismissive hand, and the other three spell pages crumbled into flakes of black carbon. Then she flipped Wraith-Lord onto the other side, revealing a dense scrawl of legal script that made Nat’s eyes hurt just looking at.

“Take all the time you need reading the contract,” Amelie said, motioning to the clock on the wall.

The clock froze in place, along with the people walking by the storefront’s window, and their creepy puppet bodyguard.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Amelie dug out a pipe and began smoking while Heather sat down on a nearby couch, settling Natalie on her lap as they scanned through the contract together.

“I’m going to forget the spell as soon as I’m done?” Heather asked with a frown as Nat pointed out the single-use clause, which dominated a large portion of the text.

“You understand that real spells are intrinsically valuable, don’t you? I’m not selling a cookie recipe. I would have to charge a thousand times more if you wished to retain knowledge of the spell itself without limitations.” Amelie said with a shrug.

“Deal,” Nat said, causing the ancient Nocul’s eyebrows to raise.

“Really?” Heather asked.

“What if we mess up, need to fix something, or run into trouble in the future?” Natalie asked, craning her neck to look up at Heather. “We have to remember what we did and how we did it if we’re going to ask for help or find a way to fix it. It’s way, way safer for us if we remember what we did.”

“Very well,” Amelie Gabras said, waving a hand, causing the price stated in the contract to balloon by three zeroes, while the number of lines of text in the contract diminished quite a bit.

“Oooh, umm…” Heather murmured, frowning and chewing her lip at the new price point.

“I can get it.” Nat offered.

“No.” Heather said, her tone rock-solid.

“Is this about Perry teasing you about being the poorest member of the group?” Natalie asked. She saw them ribbing each other constantly, but despite how inured to it they appeared, all words can leave wounds, and even superficial ones can fester.

“No.” Heather said, before sighing. “Yes. but not what Perry said. it’s more than that. You guys are leaving me in the dust, and I have to do something about it.”

“I could-“ Nat began to offer.

“I have to do something about it,” Heather said. “I can’t just…leech off you guys forever.”

“Heather,” Natalie said, her heart sinking at the turmoil roiling behind her mask of cool indifference.

The ancient Nocul woman cleared her throat. “Will you be paying in love, blood, youth, beauty, future children, favors, or cash?” Amelie asked.

“Future chi-“

“Favors!” Natalie interrupted.

“What?” Heather said, frowning down at her.

“You never know…” Natalie said, her face flushing, the embarrassment forcing her to wiggle in her seat. Which in this case was Heather’s lap.

“I guess not,” Heather said with a sigh. “What kind of favor do you need that’s worth that?”

“I have a series of three tasks so diabolical that no Nocul in living memory has succeeded.” The ancient crone spoke, the lights of the shop focusing on her as she raised to her full height and retrieved a sticky-note from beneath the counter.

With all the pomp and circumstance of a woman bestowing an artifact of great power, Amelie placed the sticky note on the table, facing towards them.

Heather’s eyes widened in amazement, and Natalie pushed herself up so she could see what heroic tasks had been presented to them.

Fix Wi-Fi

Cancel cable subscription

deliver letter to Grandson.

“Seriously?” Heather asked, agog.

“I don’t know, cancelling cable is insanely hard.” Natalie muttered. She remembered her dad yelling at people over the phone for weeks to try to get it turned off only for them to add more channels instead. She remembered because they ate ramen for Thanksgiving that year.

“I keep pressing one and nothing happens!” The ancient witch shouted.