Chapter 1

A Strange Customer

It's a beautiful Sunday afternoon, the kind where there are no clouds in the sky and it's not too hot outside and all you want to do is go out and enjoy the fresh air and the incredible weather.

And I'm stuck inside working in my family's shop.

I don't think I need to say how much this sucks.

At least my best friend Clover sacrificed her chance at freedom to help me out in the shop, something that I know her parents will most definitely not approve of. Then again, Clover's parents never approve of when we're together. The problem with our friendship, from what Clover told me once, is that I'm a human and Clover is an elf. A high elf, to be exact. High elves tend to look down on humanity—at least the older ones do—and Clover's parents are no exception. Clover's father is a high-ranking senator in the elf council and our friendship could reflect badly on him and that just makes them hate me even more. Clover doesn't care, though. She told me once that as long as we make sure not to stir up enough trouble that we get noticed then her dad's job was safe.

Clover was helping me take inventory and I was once again thankful that she was around. She's much better at keeping things organized and I'm sure Dad appreciated it, too, since I couldn't stay organized to save my life. When we finish up, Clover pushes a stray lock of platinum blonde hair out of her face. "Is that it?" she asks me.

I snort. "If that was all I had to do, I wouldn't have let you help me."

Clover sighs. "I guess that's true. What else do you have to do?"

"Well, now that we've taken inventory we need to clean all this junk," I reply. I look over all the "antiques" and trinkets that stacked the shelves and tables of the store. I couldn't understand why anyone would want to buy crap like this. It amazes me that the shop got any customers, considering all the weird stuff we had. Unicorn horns, griffon feathers, goblin toes, books written in the Merkyn, the dead language of the dwarves, bows used by elves in ancient times, and lots more other oddities. The shop was called "Hidden Treasures" but when I look at this stuff I don't think treasure.

The tiny bell in front of the door rang, signaling a customer was here. I instantly snap to attention and Clover moves away from me and pretends to be looking over some of the stuff in the store so we don't look too suspicious together.

"Hello, how can I—" The man that just entered the shop startles me so much that I don't finish my greeting. He's tall, almost tall enough that his head touches the bell hanging above the front door, and he's wearing a large black trench coat that had to be murder to wear in weather as nice as this. Even though the trench coat was big, I can see that he's pretty skinny, almost bony, and his face is so gaunt and his beady black eyes so sunken in that it honestly creeps me out. He has thin brown hair that looked greasy and when he brushed a few strands out of eyes I see that his hands are covered in bandages.

"I'm looking for a sword," he says in a raspy and cold voice that gives me goosebumps. "It's called Fatum. Do you know of it?"

I quickly glance at Clover, who looks just as freaked out as me. "Uh, no, but let me get my manager and see if he knows anything about it. Wait right here, sir." I practically run to the back room where my dad is filling out some paperwork.

"Dad," I hiss, afraid that the man might somehow hear me even though the back room and the store are so far apart from each other that it's practically impossible, "there's this guy out in the shop asking about some sword. What should I do?"

Dad suddenly looks up from his paperwork and turns in his chair to face me. He frowns at me and asks, "What kind of sword?"

"He said it was 'Fatum' or something like that. I don't think we even carry swords."

Dad looks down at the floor, still frowning. Then he looks back up at me and says, "I'll go talk to him. Is Clover out there?"

I nod. "Yeah, why? Should I tell her to leave?"

Dad shakes his head. "No, no, you stay here and I'll tell her to here with you when I go out, okay?"

I give Dad a confused look. "What's wrong, Dad? You seem kind of freaked out."

Dad shakes his head again. "No, I just… it's nothing. Stay here until I've dealt with this customer, okay, Marcella?"

I nod and Dad leaves me to go speak with the strange man in the shop. A few short moments later Clover joins me in the room and she looks pretty spooked. "Gods, Marcy, that man is creepy," she says, wrapping her arms around herself and shuddering. "You have no idea how happy I was when your dad showed up and told me to come here. I don't think I could've handled being out there alone with that guy another second."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," I reply. "Did he do anything strange while I was gone? Or say anything?"

"He was so creepy! When you left he didn't move an inch. He just stood there and stared at the spot you were standing, like you were still there. It was so freaky." Clover shudders again.

I can't help but feel a bit worried about Dad being out there with that weirdo. I move closer to the door so that I can listen to what they're saying better. Clover knows what I'm doing and comes up next to me to listen in, too. At first it's hard to hear what Dad and the strange man are saying because they're being too quiet to hear properly, but soon they start to talk louder. The man is practically shouting in his creepy and cold voice but he still manages to sound calm.

"Do not lie to me," he says, "I know that the sword is in this very shop. You would do well not to try my patience."

"Look, sir, the only sword we ever sold in this shop was nothing like the one you described and it was sold a few years ago." Dad insists.

"You lie. The sword is here, I know it is. Give me the sword and no harm will come to you." Now I was worried. I glance quickly at Clover and I see the fear in her now wide eyes.

"Call the cops," she whispers. Before I can do or say anything, Dad starts talking again.

"Now you listen to me. There's no sword here. There has never been a sword called Fatum in this store before and if you continue to harass me and make threats, I'll have no choice but to call the authorities. Now I'll ask you to leave and if you refuse, then I'll call the police. Do you understand?"

It's very quiet. So quiet that the only sound I can hear is the frantic beating of my own heart. I'm so scared, not just for Clover and I but for my dad. What if the guy's a psycho and he snaps and kills Dad? What's the big deal with this Fatum sword? Why does this freak want it so badly?

When the bell at the front door rings, I just about have a heart attack. I hear somebody walking toward us and when I see that it's just Dad, I let out a sigh of relief. "He's gone?" I ask.

Dad nods. "Yes. He left right after I told him all that. Thank God."

Clover looks at both of us curiously. "What's that sword he wants? Either of you heard about it?"

I shake my head and look at Dad. There's something about his expression that bothers me, but I can't explain it.

"I've never heard of it," Dad replies. He says it so quickly that I get suspicious. I want to ask him what's really going on because obviously he knows something about the sword, but I decide against it. I doubt he'll tell me anything. "And now that that's all taken care of, you two should get back to work."

Clover and I exit the back room without another word.

AN: I've had this story stuck in my head for ages now and I was worried that if I didn't get it all down on paper that it would just disappear. Any feedback is appreciated!