“Well, that’s not good.” Perry muttered, looking up at the sign.

Dave’s Magical Emporium closed for High Tide. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Perry only had a few more fights worth of supplies, he was flush with cash and wanted to buy some of the more interesting spell components.

And then this.

Perry glanced around the streets of Funkytown and spotted a Belark wobbling along the sidewalk with its deceptively awkward gait, but none of Dave’s thugs were around. The place was well and truly abandoned.

“Now what?” Heather asked.

“I guess we ask around.” Perry said with a shrug, heading over to the magical critter.

It looked like what you would get if you took a yeti and stretched it out to ten feet long and make it walk on all fours with a S-shaped spine.

“excuse me,” Perry said in halting Manitian. “do you where um…find Dave?”

The Belark huffed and shook its woolly head, sinuously walking around him.

Hmm..no choice but to keep asking around.

Perry and Heather walked along the street, asking around here and there as the sun gradually went down and the nocturnal magical creatures emerged.

“Hey, you look familiar. Is your mom Hexen?” an overly friendly humanoid creature with a sharklike smile asked as he walked them towards Dave’s place.

“Yeah,” Perry admitted. “Just looking for Dave to buy some ingredients.”

“Oh my gosh, you must be her son, Paradox Zauberer! Hey everybody!” The shark-mouth turned around and waved to the empty alleyway.

“This is Hexen’s son!”

Carnivorous creatures popped out of the woodwork. One of them even peeled off the wall of the alleyway behind them, his skin un-mimicking the brickwork as he holstered his braining club.

“Wow!”

“What’s it like to live with Hexen?”

“Is she as cool in real life?”

“Is she married!?”

The ravenous mob of wicked-toothed creatures congregated around Perry, eager to devour celebrity trivia.

“Settle down, settle down,” The lead sharkmouth said. “Let’s not get carried away.”

Perry glanced over his shoulder at the mimic that had been behind them.

“Were you planning on eating us?” Perry asked.

“No, no!” the lead sharkmouth said as one of the alleygoers hid a butcher knife behind her back.

Perry maintained hard eye contact.

“…Yes. Sorry.”

“No harm no foul,” Perry said with a shrug. “Just try to keep it to the sick and the old, am I right?”

“As if old sick people wander around Funkeytown at night!”

Perry and the creatures devolved into a gale of laughter as Heather looked on with a concerned expression.

“Anyway,” Perry said, wiping tears out of his eyes. “Hexen wears jeans and a t-shirt when she’s off duty, likes cooking, watching cartoons and nature documentaries. Yes she’s married, No, I’m not gonna tell you to who, and it’s a different kind of cool when she’s your mom, but still cool.”

“Awesome…”

“And to answer your question,” The lead ambush predator said, “Dave’s lair is about two blocks south, under a bowling alley. Can’t miss it.”

A police car flashed down the street outside the alley, ghostly flames shooting out of the windows, cackling as it sped through the streets, pausing the discussion until it was out of earshot.

Perry raised a brow and pointed over his shoulder.

“High Tide,” the leader said with a shrug.

“I was only six during the last one, so I don’t remember much about it.”

“Well, there’s one good thing about High Tide…” The sharkmouth said.

“It’s never dull!” A squat woman with a muzzle meant for tearing flesh supplied.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the directions!”

“No problem!” The gang of meat-eaters waved as Perry and Heather walked out of the alley.

“Why didn’t you tell them not to eat people?” Heather asked as they walked under the streetlamps that the nocturnal creatures avoided like the plague.

“Huh? Oh, because it wouldn’t have changed anything. If those people could avoid eating people, they would. Meat is incredibly expensive, though, especially during High Tide, when cattle can Trigger from a poorly placed bash on the skull can wipe out an entire farm. They obviously can’t afford meat, so telling them not to eat people would be the same as telling them to die. If they did what I told them, they would die, and others would live, if they continue hunting people, they live and others die. It’s a zero sum game, and I’ve got no interest in interfering in it.”

Heather looked pensive.

“Tell you what, if we bag ourselves a prawn, we can deliver it to this alley.”

“Why doesn’t Prawn meat become super cheap during high tide?” Heather asked.

Perry frowned.

“I don’t know for a fact because I’ve never asked that question, but I’d guess that it’s probably because the logistics of transporting it off the wall are incredibly dangerous and disruptive towards the defense effort. Can you imagine someone trying to drive a semi-truck through the line to load up a prawn corpse while hundreds of supers, civvies, and prawns are mixing it up?”

“Hmm…seems like it could be a good business opportunity for anyone who figured out how to make it work.” Heather said.

“No doubt. Prawn does taste good.” Perry said with a shrug. “A bit like lobster. If said lobster came in steaks the size of my PC tower.”

“No way, really!?”

“Who do you think my parents are, huh?” Perry asked as they neared the bowling alley.

A vampire followed them in through the door as they entered the bowling alley, their conversation consumed by the sound of pins rattling and shouts of glee.

Perry rounded on the vampire. “Dude, are you here to bowl or are you hunting us?”

“Well, I never!” the vampire walked away in a huff, pulling a sparkly bowling ball out of his bag.

“That was a bad guy?” Heather asked.

“I know it’s probably specist, but vampires have a look,” Perry said, keeping his eyes on the predator a little while longer to make sure. “And I’d rather offend someone than be a thrall. V’s are known for being clingy and playing those mind-games. According to my mom anyway. Said she dated one in high school and it did not end well. Stake to the heart kind of bad.”

Heather blinked.

“Anyway, let’s go talk to that devil over there.” Perry pointed, guiding the redhead to the reception desk.

The devil was an Indian fellow trapped inside a cage made of wrought iron with glowing sigils stamped along their length. One could be forgiven for thinking they were neon lights in a decorative themed cage.

It was a real cage, with a real devil.

“Good evening, sir and madam, what size shoes do you require?”

“I’m looking for Dave the Unicorn.”

“Dave’s not here, man.”

“Are you telling me those man-eating cannibals in the dirty alleyway lied to me!?” Perry demanded. “Just point me in the direction of the entrance to his lair and I’ll do the rest.”

The devil shrugged and pointed toward the employee entrance in the side of the building, away from all the clatter of pins, loud talking and loud music.

Perry walked up to the door, found it was locked, then rapped Shave and a haircut on the door.

“Whaddya want?” A voice said from inside.

“Tell Dave Perry Z is here to buy.”

A moment later the door unlatched and a massive slab of indeterminate supernaturalness stepped out of the way, revealing a long staircase leading down, the darkness punctuated by a single light dangling above the stairs, providing a pool of illumination.

Perry trotted down the stairs until he hit the concrete flooring of Dave’s lair.

“Perry Z! come over here, let me get a look at you!” Dave the unicorn said, taking off a couple elbow-length black gloves drenched in blood.

“And who is this lovely creature?” Dave said, inhaling as Heather approached beside him.

Dave shuddered, his eyes dilating like he’d just loaded his veins with heroin.

“Yeah, that’s the good stuff. Keep it platonic, you two.”

Heather’s expression darkened.

“…he’s a unicorn.” Perry said, as if that would explain everything. “They’re…the way they are.”

“What can I do for ya, kids?” Dave asked, leaning up against the half-dissected fantasy creature on the table behind him. “High Tide is when I get the bulk of my exotic ingredients. It technically counts as a solar eclipse, planetary alignment, and an apocalypse, and it lasts for weeks, so I’m super busy, but I can always make time for my best customer.”

“I hardly believe I’m your best customer.”

“I suppose you’re right. My best customer is a rich old folks home on the west side of the city. You’re just my favorite.”

Perry blinked. What on earth would an old folks home need that-

“Gorlock horn.” Dave said.

“Say no more,” Perry said, holding up a hand. “I don’t even wanna think about it. I’m renovating a piece of land and was looking to buy ingredients for these spells,” Perry said, offering Dave the list he’d compiled.

“Floating Armaments as a bulldozer? Hah!” Dave said, shaking his head. “There’s a thought. Why not just use Gretchen’s Idyllic Manifestation? Ingredients are a bit more expensive individually, but you’d save a lot of time and castings, get it all done at once.

“Reasons.” Perry said. Gretchen’s Idyllic Manifestation required the caster to have a concrete idea of the structure they wished to create, and the intent to make it. Since Perry was not the actual caster, he doubted a cluster of cells on a microchip could have a solid grasp on architecture or the desire to create it.

I mean, unless I hooked them up to a CAD program, maybe? Even then, would the spell count it as the tiny clump of cells having an idea in mind, or would the CAD be treated separately?

“Ah.” Dave said, nodding. “I gotcha. Well, -“

“Actually, could I get a sampler of the ingredients for that? I’d like to see if I could make it work, anyway.”

“No problem.”

“You know, if you’re going for inexpensive, you could try using Dregor’s Binding, sugar, and some ants.” Dave said.

“Dregor’s Binding? Isn’t that the voodoo doll spell?”

“Well yeah, but you can also use it on land,” Dave said. “Basically you make a model of a larger area with Miniature Vistas, replace any spot you want to be demolished with a powdered sugar replica, bind the two objects together with the binding spell, then place a pet ant colony right beside it. Ants’ll remove anything you want gone in a matter of days with no further input.”

“How much would that cost?” Perry asked.

“For both spells, some sugar and ants? ’bout five hundred bucks.”

That’s even cheaper than I was thinking. Might be a bit time consuming to make sugar storage containers, but cheap.

“Sign me up,” Perry said. “I still want the spells on the list, though.”

“Alright,” Dave said, motioning for them to follow him. “These are pretty intense amounts, You got the cash?”

Perry flashed a ten grand chit he’d gotten from John for the express purpose of splurging at Dave’s.

“Excellent. You know, it’s lucky you’re coming here during High Tide instead of my shop. Some of these items haven’t even been entered into my inventory yet, which makes it much more convenient for me to avoid paying taxes on them. Tell you what, I’ll even give you a discount. Half the tax savings. Then we’re both guilty.” Dave gave him a mischievous grin.

“Sweet.” Perry said, nodding.

“Something for you, young lady?” Dave asked, looking to Heather. I’ve got beauty products,” He pointed to a rack as they were passing by it. “If that’s not your thing, I’ve got love amulets over there. The legal kind, and the sort-of legal kind. We don’t do the totally illegal ones because I detest mind control.”

“Why do you assume I want makeup and love charms?” Heather asked. “How about some brass knuckles?”

Dave was quick on his feet.

“I don’t have anything pre-made, but I do have the materials to make some rather interesting weapons. I’ve got some unbonded haunted iron, vengeful steel, giant bone, metallic slime, which is great for blackjacks, and nontoxic, unlike mercury, by the way. Dragon molts if you wanna make some armor, a few performance enhancing potions made by a seller I highly recommend.”

“What’s haunted iron?” Heather asked.

“Quite simply, haunted Iron is a piece of iron that a ghost has taken permanent residence in. It must be worked below a certain temperature in order not to destroy the ghost, but assuming you do it right, Attacks with weapons made from them have triple the staying power, as they hit physically twice, and metaphysically once.” Dave said, selling it hard.

“They all have their likes and dislikes, but I generally sort them into two categories. Ghosts that get along well with women, and ghosts that get along well with men. Then you can find one from inside that pool that resonates well with you.”

They stopped in front of the haunted iron rack and were met with two separate piles of scrap iron. On the left for women, were mostly things like knitting needles, cast iron pans, irons, and other cleaning and cooking paraphenelia.

On the other side, were axe heads and crowbars and a turnwheel on a pressure hatch, among other manly things.

Dave held up his hands as they looked at him askance.

“Look, I don’t tell the ghosts which iron to haunt, alright?”

“What’s giant-bone do?”

“Giant bone has a grain to it that slightly realigns gravity in the direction of the grain. It helps keeps those lugs standing, but when fashioned into weapons, can create something that handles like a feather while hitting like an avalanche, a perfect choice for someone with delicate wrists.”

“I want enough Giant bone to make a new handle for this frying pan,” Heather said, reading the tag on the pan. “This lady was awesome. Killed three enemy raiders with it before she bled out.”

“That’ll be six thousand dollars.” Dave looked at Perry.

Heather looked at Perry.

“What?”

“I helped with the Locust, but I didn’t get paid for it.”

“So?”

“Half.” Heather said, holding out her hand.

“Dangit,” Perry muttered, pulling out five more chits. He knew this would happen and came prepared, but he’d secretly hoped it wouldn’t.