Journal of Nathaniel Faust, Master Supreme of Mystics

24 Jul. 20–

The Devil went down to Brooklyn. He was looking for a soul to steal. He was in no bind. He just wanted to make a deal. He came across some young girls sipping cafe lattes, drinking them hot. The Devil walked in from the hot summer air and said, “Girls, let me tell ya what: I bet you didn’t know it, but I’m a latte drinker too, and if you’d care to save a chair, I’ll make a deal with you. If they make a good enough coffee, a good, satisfying brew, I’ll give you all more than gold, for all your souls. You can pay off a debtor, or two…”

My face was… wet. When did I fall asleep? I wondered as I peeled my head off my desk. My ink bottle had spilled. Lovely. At least it was an easy fix. I dabbed my finger on my face and traced a royal blue circle around the bottle, with a couple of choice glyphs at the cardinal points. A snap of the fingers, and the bottle returned to its original place, refilling with the ink that was flowing into it from my face and the desk.

I’d been looking at heart seals again, and must’ve dozed off around… midnight? Later? Either way, I’d learned nothing else. At least, nothing that would help me save him from himself.

“There must be some way to reverse it,” I said to nobody. Sansu and Wilbur had left at some point in the last while, so I was fully alone in the New York Instinct sect. At least, besides the spirits of the house (though they don’t technically interact with people). Maybe I should get a cat. Or a sphinx; that guy in St. Petersburg said he would have a litter soon.

My stomach growled. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. I was pretty sure I’d had some tea or something last night. I went to the kitchen, which I managed to find after only three wrong turns without using keys—I was getting the hang of navigating despite the house spirits’ antics. There was absolutely nothing breakfasty in the fridge or the cupboards (besides plain oats), so I would have to go out and grab a bite at a cafe or something. I could shop for food later.

I was about halfway down the street when something sinister seemed to approach from all directions. My Supreme Amulet opened, indicating its powerful mystical presence. I’d seen Master handle such threats before, so I knew that if I focused on the stone in the center of the amulet, it’d show me where the enemy was. If they were capable of releasing magic energy so strongly that it was possible to feel outside of the immediate range of the spell, this must be a powerful enemy, I thought. If only I’d known.

I saw in the “pupil” of the amulet a little café on a street corner. It could’ve been on any corner in literally any major city (or even decently modern small town) on the planet. The letters were in English, however, which narrowed it down slightly from a good chunk of the world, but I still had very little to go on. Even after I noticed the fact that there was a Ray’s Pizza next door, that still left pretty much all of NYC.

“Can you, maybe, zoom out?” I felt somewhat self-conscious talking to a necklace in the middle of B street on a Friday morning, “Please?” I added in case the ancient mystical gods who infused their souls into the medallion were sticklers for good manners, like Master Bell. He’s probably old enough to tell me inside jokes about all of them, even Iogzo’u. Nothing happened. I would have to find the place in the regular modern mortal way.

“Hey, if I show you a picture of a coffee shop, do you think you might know where it is?” I asked the first well-to-do-looking college-age people I could find, a couple wearing matching “I Don’t ❤ NY, I Just Live Here” shirts.

“Absolutely,” the guy put his arm around his girlfriend, “babe, you got this. You’ve been to every café in the city.”