Chapter 12: A Price to Pay

Before I realize it, I'm awake again—for the second morning in a row, and without any difficulty at all, which is completely out of character for a night owl like me. I hop out of bed with a stretch and a yawn, before busying myself with familiar morning routines. Now fueled in part by caffeine and in part by my growing urge to fleece some unsuspecting... I mean, make a tidy little profit on some beautiful silver rings. I gather up my wares and, after locking the door behind me, make my way down to my truck.Ignoring the urge to check on my little stash of silver—and the newfound ominous brooch—I patiently wait for my truck to warm up before finally pulling out onto the road for the short drive down to the shopping center. I can't help but feel excited. Maybe it's from my breakthrough last night, or maybe it's just the prospect of finally saying goodbye to my 9-5 career, but I'm in a really great mood today.My phone begins to buzz in the cupholder. Glancing down at the screen, I see a familiar name: Greg. I can't help but inwardly sigh as I swipe on the screen to pick up the call and put him on speakerphone, before turning my attention back to the road."Yo, two mornings in a row now? Did I accidentally sign up for a morning wake-up call or something?" I say with a chuckle."Ahh, yeah, sorry, man. I hate to keep bugging you first thing in the morning," Greg replies after an awkward pause. "But I've been waiting to ask you something since last night."Frowning a bit to myself, I respond, "Hope you're not in need of another moving helper today. I actually already had plans this morning.""No, no, nothing like that," he says with a forced laugh. "It's just, after I got home last night, I realized I misplaced something."Putting on my blinker and pulling up to the turn into the shopping center, I quickly check behind me for any cops before running that stale red light. "Hey, Nathan, you still there?" Greg finally says."You caught me while I was driving," I reply. "Sorry, you said something about misplacing something?""Oh, I mean, if it's bad timing, you can give me a call back later," he says, sounding a bit deflated."Nah, all good. Just pulled into a parking spot," I say as I throw my truck into park. "Alright, you've got my full attention. So what did you lose?""Well, actually, it was an old brooch." My heart practically sinks at the word "brooch."Obviously unable to see how shocked I must look over the phone, Greg continues. "I picked it up at the flea market. It's not really worth much—just some glass stone—but it looked exactly like the one my mother misplaced years ago. It would really make her day to have it back, even if it's not the exact one. After we parted ways, I realized I couldn't find it."I try to play it cool. "Oh, a brooch, huh? You don't really see old-fashioned stuff like that anymore. Are you sure you had it on you while we were moving that dresser?""Yeah, I definitely remember having it on me that day. I was planning on taking it over to her right after I was done with the delivery, before my truck broke down and all that." He's starting to sound quite flustered over some "worthless glass brooch.""Yeah, sorry, man. I don't remember seeing anything like that." No way I'm giving you back that brooch, dude. No matter what kind of story you cook up, you clearly just found out about that thing when it fell out of the dresser yesterday. Stop trying to blow smoke up my ass."Aww, man, it's really important to me. Would you mind double-checking your truck, just to make sure I didn't accidentally drop it while we were moving that dresser?""Yeah, no problem, Greg. I'll give it a once-over. If I find it, I'll be sure to give you a call," I lie through my teeth. I know exactly where that brooch is: right in my secret stash—and that's exactly where it's going to stay until I'm ready to tackle it. It clearly has some sort of power related to cultivation. No way I'm handing it back over just for this dude to sell for another fat profit, like he did with that dresser."I'd really appreciate it, Nathan. Hopefully, you're able to find it," he says with a defeated sigh. "I've looked everywhere. I don't know where else it could be unless I just dropped it on the road.""Yikes. I hope not, man. It'd be gone for good if that was the case," I say. And as far as you're concerned, that might as well be the case. "Well, you never know. Maybe try checking everywhere one more time, just in case," I add, "helpfully."After getting off the phone, I start to wonder if Greg has some sort of talent for cultivation too. Did he sense something in the brooch when he picked it up? Is that why he sounded so desperate on the phone? Well, whatever the case, his bad luck is my windfall, I think, as I start walking toward a busier area of the shopping center, wondering where I should set up.As I navigate my way through the congested parking lot, I eventually find a nice little parking island with plenty of foot traffic. It's practically begging to be my new spot.Ignoring the sidelong looks I get as I set up my "table," which is really just a folding footstool draped with an old shirt, I open up its twin brother, folding stool number two, and take a seat. After all the work I put into these, the last thing I want is for someone to snatch them up and run off, so I start small and decide to just set out one ring for now.Admittedly, it's an odd setup, but the "booth" isn't the real star of the show—it's the ring. And after silently commanding the ring to attract, I wait patiently, sizing up potential customers as they pass by. I also try to keep an eye on the ring's "charge." I know from testing it last night that it doesn't take much juice at all to keep this spell running, so the mana I stored in the ring should be more than enough. But, call it first-day jitters, I can't help but stay hyper-vigilant. Who could have known my worry was completely unnecessary?"Excuse me, how much are you selling this ring for?"Shifting my gaze over to the older woman who just asked, I put on a bright smile before responding. "This ring here is one of a kind. I'm honestly a bit sad to let it go, but I really could use the money. I can't take less than $200 for it."Shameless. That's really the only word for it—the audacity to try and sell a cheap $20 silver ring for over ten times that amount. Initially, I had only wanted sixty, but I'm not sure if I'm cultivating "the truth" or gall—because ever since I broke through, I can't help but feel like pushing the envelope."I'll take it."Three simple words—barely even a sentence, really—but it's enough to send me into a daze. I don't even remember responding as I wordlessly take the money and send off the smiling woman with a wave, pinching my leg.Ouch. Definitely not dreaming. Did I just undersell myself? I don't know what I was expecting—anger, rejection, haggling—anything but someone immediately agreeing to my outrageous demands and happily walking back to her car, even forgetting to do the shopping she came here for.Well, it's not like me to look a gift horse in the mouth. What a weird phrase. What does that even mean, anyway? Whatever. I need to strike while the iron is hot.Or... not so hot, as it turns out. I practically had to recount the money in my pocket to believe I sold a ring after the next series of rejections. But it's not like I didn't expect that. After my first success, I jacked up the price by another $400 just to try my luck.I might not have made any more sales, but I didn't walk away empty-handed. Smiling as I received my 12th rejection—a whole dozen now—I couldn't help but think: What a collection, lucky me. It turns out magic isn't all-powerful—well, at least mine's not—yet. The charm on the ring is definitely working. People are interested in it; they're just pissed off with the sky-high prices I've been setting.But the more I lower the price, the milder the rejections have become. Low and behold, with that last rejection, I could practically see it on their face—they were really close to buying that ring. And do you know what the last price I set for it was? $220, just $20 more than what I asked for the first ring.You see, it turns out—insultingly high—borderline criminal price gouging of ten times the ring's original price is turning out to be the absolute maximum price I can convince someone to buy with my current talent. Which is great news for me—that's way more than the $60 I was originally going to sell them for.That's more than enough because now, instead of having to sell five rings a day to keep up with my bills, I just need to sell five a week. Which means a lot less work for me and a lot more spare time for cultivating. Hell, maybe I need to go back to that flea market sooner than later. I could probably sell enough rings in an afternoon to keep me afloat for a whole month.Uh oh. I think I really pushed it on the expiration date for that milk I used in my coffee this morning. My stomach begins to churn uncomfortably. Desperate not to drive home with a pants full of shit, I decisively abandon my footstools, taking only my precious inventory as I run towards a nearby shop to ruin their bathroom.