Wilder Mage Read Free Page B

but out to the street as well. After eleven o’clock, the sweaty utility workers began filing in, hoping for a plain sandwich. The fragrant slabs of steak and pulled meat surprised them. With plenty of buns to go around and the seemingly endless supply of Justus’s microbrew beer, it was enough to put even the weariest in a cheerful mood.
    With no refrigeration, vegetables weren’t on the menu, and the beefy workers sighed dramatically and called for more beer to alleviate their feigned disappointment. More than one commented to Justus on his microbrew and asked for the name of his supplier, but he simply smiled and served them another glass of the warm beer. He wondered what their response would be if they discovered his main ingredient in the foamy beverage.
    Magic was one of the ingredients, enhancing the hops, water, and malted grains. Wild yeast, pulled from the surrounding area of apple orchards, clover fields, and sun-baked sweet corn made each brew unique. Some amber-colored batches smelled of butterscotch. Other bottles tasted like Emmett’s apple wood, earthy and flavorful. His preference had the spicy flavor of cloves and ginger. All filled the senses with the aromas of the woods, an orchard, or a flower garden.
    He devoted one section of the cellar to his practice of micro brewing, but fixed magic hid the rest of the cellar, the place where he held the parts of his life separate from his human friends—and the Imperium.
    Word soon spread and a line formed on the street. The hungry workers cheerfully took turns eating at the six mahogany tables, some electing to take a plate and sit on the wooden benches on the sidewalk.
    Emmett cooked the meat, and Justus served, threading his body between tables and the masses. Maggie stayed at the register.
    The crowd dwindled, and by the time the sun was down to the tree line, the freezer was empty. Alone with his friends, Justus leaned back in one of the large chairs set in the corner of the bar, his long legs stretched in front of him. He interlaced his fingers behind his head and looked up at the ceiling.
    The lights suddenly flared, went out, and then came on again to stay.
    “Oh, yeah. Ain’t that timin’,” Emmett said, laughing. “Just after we empty the freezer, the power comes back on.”
    Justus got to his feet and went to look again at the antique wing with the broken china and figurines. Grimly, he took the angled broom and began sweeping the bits of broken china.
    It wouldn’t clean itself. At least not with witnesses.
    Buying antiques, then reselling them to happy collectors was only profitable on a cyclical basis. What he really needed was a web site. And how many times had he come up with this grand solution and not acted on it?
    “Hey, I’ll do that,” Emmett said, coming up behind him. “You need to call your mom anyway.”
    “She called?”
    “Yeah, sorry, I forgot. It was in the middle of the rush and you were in the cellar.”
    Emmett began sweeping the piles together. Justus pulled his cell phone from behind the bar and hit the familiar numbers.
    “Hello,” an aged, female voice answered.
    “What the hell you doing inside on a beautiful day like this?”
    She laughed, and Justus heard the familiar click of her dentures. “Answering the damn phone, that’s what,” she said.
    Justus snickered. “Geez. For an old woman, you sure cuss a lot.”
    “Yeah, well, for a young brat, you sure are opinionated.”
    Shattering glass caught his attention. Emmett uttered an oath under his breath, then glanced at him and rolled his eyes. “It was broken already, I think,” he said.
    Justus shrugged and gave him a half-smile. “Lookit, Mom, I don’t think I’m gonna make it over there tonight. Will you be okay?”
    A short hesitation, and then she said, “Of course. I don’t have anything going on here. Nothing broken or wrecked. Not like at the shop. So don’t worry. Just stay safe.”
    “You always say that.” He shook his head. “Take