Cozy Isekai Craftsman, ch 8

In the middle of his bed, Bryan woke up with his siblings on each side. On the other side of his head were their pairs of feet. Amongst the triplets, Bryan was always the first to wake up, before the first rooster crowed. He liked to have that early morning silence to himself, so he could think about how he was going to tackle the day and which bugs he was going to draw in his small little notebook.

But that moment of silence never lasted long. Niamh usually woke up only a few minutes after him.

There was a mumble and an annoyed groan, but Niamh opened up her eyes and sat up. Then, she yawned and struck a match from their bedside table and lit a candle. Bryan's head was faced towards the ceiling. He could see his sister, and he gave her a thumbs up. Normally they would sleep in, but today was a special day, more than that.

Niamh went to their bedside table and opened the drawer, "Like we planned." Inside of it was a small box. It was an important box, and they had worked on the stuff inside it for a couple of weeks now.

John was still snoring; he always was. He snored really loud for a kid, but Bryan and Niamh were used to the sound. His snoring was so loud that their bed sheets near John rumbled with his chest and belly.

Niamh leaned over and patted the sleeping John on his chubby little cheeks. John kept snoring but turned away from her. She rolled her eyes and whispered, "Bryan, are you going to help me with this?"

Bryan shrugged and flipped himself up, getting out of bed. He patted John on the other side of his cheek, alternating with Niamh until their brother woke up.

John opened his eyes, and he had a big grin on his face. "Did you guys see me in the dream? I wrestled that giant bear ten times the size of Dad. I got it down to its stomach. And then that huge dragon came, and I left on the dragon's back. We flew into the clouds!"

Niamh nodded, yawning. She said, "Yeah, but you flew too fast. We couldn't see you after you went past the clouds. Did you see me? I cast those cool spells and brought the moon down."

John frowned. He said, "That's not fair. Bringing down the moon was my idea."

Niamh gave him a stern look. She said, "You only got that idea after I brought the moon down first."

“Nuh uh. I came up with bringing down the moon two dreams ago!”

Bryan watched his siblings argue about their shared dream. They didn't always share the same dreams. When they did, they could remember almost every part of the dream, and his brother and sister always competed for who could do the coolest thing in the dream. Bryan himself liked to stick to the old-fashioned, reliable flight. He didn’t like to fly very high like a bird, more like hovering like a delicate butterfly going from flower to flower, or in this case, from dream to dream.

John pleaded to Bryan to tilt the conversation in his favor, "Bryan, tell her I came up with bringing the moon down first!"

Bryan lifted his hands and replied, "I don't know. I was busy talking to the elves. They taught me how to say bad words in their language"

John and Niamh's eyes grew big like saucers and their mouths hung open. "Real elves or fake dream elves?" they both asked.

Bryan paused for a moment before answering, "They wore leaves for clothes and I think their words were real, so they must have been real elves."

John and Niamh exchanged a glance, and said, "Next time we dream, you have to tell us. We want to meet the elves too."

Bryan nodded. Niamh got out of bed and gestured for everyone to come. They followed their sister, their fearless leader, out of the bedroom.

Bryan and his siblings walked a few doors down and knocked on their parents' door. It took a couple of knocks before their father's heavy footsteps could be heard.

Their dad slowly walked to the door, rubbed his tired eyes and asked, "Kids, it's early. Something wrong?"

Bryan pushed John to say something, who pushed Niamh forward to say something. Niamh shot them a glare, but she puffed up her chest and said, "Dad, we have something important to give you and Mom." She said it in a serious tone like a general.

Their dad blinked a couple of times, probably trying to see if he was really awake or not. He shook his head and said, "Okay, come in."

They followed and their father struck a match to light a candle. Their mother, who seemed to have already heard the conversation, was in her nightgown. She could hear everything that happened in the tavern and maybe even the entire town of Lockwood. Nothing got by her.

She swiveled around off the bed with her legs dangling at the edge and their father sat next to her. Their mom said, "Okay, what's with all this seriousness?"

Niamh pulled out the box from behind her. It was a small box their mother had given them a few months ago when they told her their idea. She gave them the box because she was like an older sister to them and knew the importance of giving this to their parents.

Niamh said, "Here, there's one for both of you."

Bryan's parents looked at each other, confused. Their mom said, "Okay." She opened the box, and two small magnets with different colored strings were inside. They each held their own lanyard up in the candlelight.

John hopped up and down excitedly, "Ava gave us the box to show you guys the present. We asked some clothing merchants for extra twine."

Bryan stepped forward, "Emily taught us how to tie it together."

John chuckled, "Bryan took the longest to learn." Bryan punched him lightly in the arm.

Niamh sighed, she said, "We all worked on it together equally."

Bryan's parents looked dumbfounded.

Their mom asked, "Thank you kids, but why are you giving this to us? It's not our birthday, and it's not time for summer gifts."

Bryan wanted to speak but wasn't good at speeches. So Niamh talked. "We wanted to give you something to protect you, like a charm. Emily told us that when they were young, she and Ava made each other charm bracelets like this to protect each other from bad guys and bad spirits."

Their mom and dad looked at each other, then at each of the kids, and then back at each other again. They seemed to get it. A big smile appeared on their dad's face, and he leaned forward, stepped down, and knelt down on one knee. He opened up his big, strong arms and gathered all three of them in a big, tight hug.

Bryan tried to gasp for air, "Need to breathe, Dad."

Their dad let them go, and his eyes were a little teary. He said, "Sorry about that, kids. I just wanted to show you how much this gift means to us. We promise we'll wear it every day."

Niamh looked to her brothers for approval.

Bryan nodded, as did John, and she said, "We know that you fight monsters and bad guys every day. And we know that Mom has to deal with mean customers all the time. So we just wanted to make sure that you're okay."

Mom had a few tears in her eyes. She said, "I don't know what to say, kids. Thank you so much."

Niamh looked at her brothers, and she spoke like a general. "Okay, gift giving done. Time to head out.

Bryan and John snapped a salute, and they started to march out. Their dad stopped them. He said, "That's it? You guys woke us up this early just to give us a gift?"

They all froze in place. Bryan gave John a look, and John whispered, "I think they know."

Bryan rolled his eyes and said, "Mom always knows. We might as well tell her."

Niamh sighed. She turned around and faced her parents. She was the bravest one of them. She said, "When Emily taught us how to make the lanyards, she told us about the house she grew up in and how she thought there was a ghost there."

Mom’s eyes widened, and then she nodded.

She said, "You want to go see the mansion, right?"

Niamh nodded.

Dad chuckled and said, "Emily and Ava say it's okay?"

John said, "Yes, sir."

Bryan and Niamh nodded.

Niamhe said, "We want to check it out before the other kids see us snooping around there. We want to be the first to see that ghost."

Mom whispered a few things in dad’s ear.

Dad said, "It's okay, but don't go in the basement because it's flooded out. Only the first and second floor. Don't go in the backyard because there might be poisonous plants that popped up."

Niamh looked surprised, but Bryan wasn't. John didn't care, he just looked excited. Niamh asked, "You guys are worried about a single ghost?"

Dad chuckled and said, "Even if there was a ghost, it couldn't hurt you. Ghosts are different from spirits."

John said, "You've seen a ghost, Dad?

Their dad said, "Yes, I've seen a ghost. Most of them are friendly. Even the mean ones don't mean you any harm. But if you do see a ghost, come right back here and don’t do what it tells you, okay?"

Niamh said out, "Okay" and Bryan and John followed her example.

Mom said, "Make sure you guys brush your teeth before you head out and change out of your pajamas. If you don't, all of you know what happened to Bryan last time he tried to leave the tavern without brushing his teeth."

Bryan shivered at the memory and said, "Yes, Mom."

John said, "Yes, Mom."

They all left their parents' bedroom,and went to brush their teeth and change out of their pajamas. Today, they were going to see a haunted mansion.

–

Joe's feet dragged him into the kitchen, his bleary eyes barely registering his surroundings. With the desperate hope of caffeine running through his veins, he scanned the room for any signs of life. The aroma of the coffee pot called to him like a siren, and he stumbled over to it, relishing the warmth that radiated from its surface. He poured himself a mug of steaming coffee and inhaled the bittersweet aroma, grateful for the comfort of this early morning ritual.

But as he turned to find his usual companions, Ava and Caroline, the kitchen was eerily silent. Joe furrowed his brow, wondering where they had disappeared so early in the day. Had they crept back to their beds for a few more precious moments of sleep? Or had they dashed out on some mysterious errand?

His curiosity piqued, Joe wandered over to the back of the kitchen, his eyes scanning the day's provisions. His gaze settled on a basket of fresh vegetables, and he couldn't help but pluck a slice from each one, delicately holding them between his fingers. He pressed them together and savored the burst of flavors that exploded in his mouth, relishing the simple pleasure of this moment.

Grinning from ear to ear, Joe surveyed his culinary creation with pride. He delicately arranged the enhanced vegetables on a separate platter, eager to showcase his newfound discovery to Caroline. His taste buds danced with anticipation, imagining the look of surprise and delight that would cross her face when she took her first bite.

Joe sighed, lamenting the fact that the soup wasn't ready yet. If only he could work his magic on that too. But he knew he had to wait for Dylan to return before they could begin their culinary alchemy. Until then, he would just have to bask in the anticipation of the delicious meal to come.

As Joe deftly organized the vegetables, his muscles tensed with unease. The sound of heavy boots reverberated through the kitchen, causing him to pause mid-arrangement. His mind raced with anxious thoughts, wondering if Grace had discovered his whereabouts and come to drag him back to his cell. His heart thundered in his chest, pounding like a drum as he braced himself for the worst.

But to his immense relief, the intruder was none other than Rick, looking disheveled and bleary-eyed. Joe let out a deep sigh of relief, his fear melting away like snow under the sun.

Rick's gaze lingered on the array of enhanced vegetables, and he couldn't resist plucking a plump carrot from Joe's hand. With a voracious bite, he savored the explosion of flavor on his tongue, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Wow," he exclaimed, his voice muffled by the juicy vegetable. "This is...carroty? Is that even a word?" he mused, a look of wonder on his face.

Joe chuckled softly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You're right, Rick. Describing the tastes is a tricky business, like trying to describe colors to someone who's never seen them."

Rick nodded in agreement, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I can definitely see that. So, are you planning to work your magic on the rest of the food?"

Joe's expression turned wistful, and he shook his head with a sigh. "Not yet. We'll have to wait for Dylan to come back and cook some of it. My powers only work on food that's already been cooked."

But Rick's face brightened with a sudden idea, and he leaned forward eagerly. "Hey, why don't we make a big pot of soup tonight and let it simmer overnight? We can keep an eye on the fire and make sure it doesn't go out or boil over."

Joe's eyes widened with excitement at the thought, his mind racing with the possibilities. "That's a brilliant idea!" he exclaimed.

Rick's eyes widened with wonder as he sipped his coffee and savored the enhanced flavors of the carrot. "Does everyone in your homeland have magic like this?" he asked, his voice tinged with awe.

Joe shrugged, a wry smile playing at his lips. "As far as I know, I'm the only one. But who knows? Maybe there are others out there with hidden talents."

"Amazing," Rick breathed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Are you ready? Let's go now."

“Let’s go,” said Joe.

Rick led the way, and Joe followed him out of the door, placing their coffee mugs back in the sink. The gate guard guided him through Lockwood, giving him a tour.

"There are the docks. It's usually the same ships over and over again. Every couple of weeks. We're not that busy at the harbor. And there aren't huge trading cities near us, so it's mostly local merchants and guilds trafficking their wares through here," the gate guard said.

"Guilds, huh? Yeah, there's a guild for everything. It's easier than saying organization or group or entity. Guild sounds cooler. Am I using that right?" Joe nodded, impressed.

Rick pointed to a couple of establishments owned by some of his friends, which Joe told himself to check out. They were mostly merchant stores and stalls. When he had enough coin, he could buy and sell some food or tools and equipment.

Finally, they reached a quiet-looking building with a sign in front of it that said "Lockwood Anvil." Rick waved at it as if he were a presenter on a game show. "Well, there you have it. Good luck to you."

Joe shook his hand. "Thanks. Have fun at the gate."

Joe watched as Rick's figure receded into the distance until he disappeared from view. The early morning breeze ruffled Joe's hair, carrying with it the distant sound of roosters crowing and the gentle rustle of leaves. The world was still asleep, wrapped in a blanket of quietude.

Joe had risen before the sun, his eyes flickering open as the first rays of light kissed the sky. The farmers wouldn't be far behind him, he knew. They would soon be flocking to the Rusty Nail, their hunger pangs driving them to seek out the hearty breakfast the tavern was famous for. Joe could almost smell the aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee wafting towards him on the breeze.

Rick's words echoed in Joe's mind as he stood there, lost in thought. The currency conversion rate in these parts was a tricky business, with inflation throwing a wrench into the works. But Rick had made it simple for Joe, breaking it down to the basics.

Basically, one thousand copper was one silver, one thousand silver was one gold, and so on and so forth. There were more expensive types of coins, but Rick didn't get into them.

He had said, "Once you get past gold, you don't really have to worry about money. But I don't think that's going to be an issue for you considering your situation."

As he turned the handle, a rush of excitement coursed through his veins. The door swung open with ease, and he couldn't help but notice the silence of the hinges. Not a single creak. It was a small detail, but one that made him wonder if the blacksmith, Emily, had crafted them herself. He closed the door with the gentlest of touches, not wanting to disturb the peaceful aura that surrounded him.

A rhythmic hammering echoed through the shop, reminding him that he was not alone. He marveled at the early hour, never having realized that smiths started their day long before the sun rose. His curiosity piqued, he wondered what the benefits were.

As he wandered through the rows of cabinets, he was drawn to the glittering array of trinkets that lay before him. Some were delicate toys, while others were replacement parts for tools of the trade. Joe's eyes scanned the various price tags, and he couldn't help but marvel at the craftsmanship that went into each item. It was clear that every piece had been crafted with the utmost care and attention to detail.

Finally, he made it to the back, following the sounds. There was a woman with fiery red hair pounding away at something on the anvil with an incredibly large hammer. She had the same build as Ava from behind, which seemed to be slight, but the hammer she held was so large and heavy-looking that Joe was pretty certain that if it came his way, it would put a hole in him.

Where did that strength come from? Or was that the strength of all lizardkin? Then he thought of Ava. How petite she had looked. If he had ever gotten on the wrong side of the waitress and she punched him, would he have survived?

Joe's heart raced as he crept closer to the Forge, his eyes fixed on the figure in armor holding a sword and scabbard. The stranger's armor was a hodgepodge of mismatched pieces, as if he had scavenged them from different battles. But something about the way he moved seemed familiar.

As he drew nearer, Joe realized with a start that he recognized the adventurer from their brawl at the Rusty Nail. The memory flooded back to him, the adrenaline rush of throwing punches, the thrill of danger. But now, with a sword in the mix, Joe's nerves prickled with apprehension.

He listened in on the conversation between the adventurer and Emily, a woman who looked like she could have been his sister. She was hammering away at an anvil, her muscles flexing with each strike. The adventurer seemed frustrated, muttering something about things not going as planned.

Emily's hammering stopped with a metallic clang as she shot a grin at the adventurer. Her voice oozed confidence and dismissiveness. "It is," she said. "But you don't know how to work it."

Joe saw the adventurer's grip tighten around the sword handle, and he took an involuntary step forward. But the blacksmith was nonchalant, not even bothering to glance at the man.

"We went out to raid the nearby dungeon," the adventurer continued, his voice tinged with frustration. "Everybody could summon their martial powers except for me."

This time, Emily looked up, her gaze locking onto the adventurer. She gave him a sly grin. "Oh, what's this? Poor little rich boy has performance anxiety?"

Joe winced at the sharp jab, muttering to himself in a hushed whisper. "Ouch."

Emily's head snapped towards Joe, her irises narrowing into thin slits until she looked just like her sister, Ava. But unlike Ava's softness, Emily's features held a certain harshness. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice sharp.

Joe held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm Joseph Johnson. I don't know if your sister told you, but she told me to come talk to you."

Emily's gaze flicked from Joe to the adventurer and back to Joe again. "Give me a minute," she said, her tone curt.

Emily started talking to the adventurer. "Look, there are no refunds. You know this. In fact, there's a sign out front that says that, and that particular sword has a martial power of Grade G. It might be even a little higher to F. Someone of your..." She trailed off, trying to think of a more polite way to say it. "Someone of your caliber," she continued, "should have no problem summoning those abilities."

The adventurer threw his arms up in a petulant display, resembling a small child throwing a tantrum. "I tried!" he exclaimed. "Like I said, everybody could summon their martial powers except for me. This thing is broken. I want a refund or a replacement."

Emily's patience had worn thin, and she took a step towards the man, her expression annoyed. It wasn't a threatening gesture, but the adventurer took an involuntary step back nonetheless. "No refunds," she stated firmly. "Get out of my shop, please, if you have nothing else to purchase."

The adventurer spat on the ground next to her, which sizzled near the heat of the fire. If it was that hot, then Emily should have been burning. Instead, she looked cool as a cucumber. The adventurer stalked out of the room, brushing past Joe abrasively without acknowledging him, and slammed the door to the establishment behind him when he left.

Joe turned towards Emily, who resumed her hammering on the items on the anvil. The sound echoed throughout the forge, making Joe wince slightly. He waited for a moment until Emily said over her shoulder, "You can come forward."

There was a tense edge to her voice, and Joe couldn't help but think that it had something to do with the previous conversation. But he also suspected that Emily might always be that way, based on what Ava, Caroline, and Rick had told him. Joe decided to be polite and cautious; politeness had never steered him wrong before. "Hey, once again, I'm Joseph Johnson. You can call me Joe. Ava told me to speak to you," he said.

Emily muttered under her breath, "You said that already."

Clearing his throat, Joe continued, "So, sorry about that. Anyway, I'm looking for a job. Ava said that if I showed you my abilities, you might consider hiring me."

Joe straightened his posture and took a deep breath, ready to show Emily what he was made of.

Emily halted in her tracks, fixing her gaze on Joe with a scrutinizing eye. Her piercing stare scanned his body up and down, as if she was searching for something elusive. The disappointment was palpable on her face when she didn't find what she was looking for. Without warning, she delivered a slap to his shoulder. It wasn't a bone-crushing blow, but it had enough force to make Joe's arm jiggle like jelly.

In that moment, Emily's small, lithe frame belied her hidden strength. "Not hiring someone as weak as you," she quipped, her words dripping with disdain.

Joe's lips curved into a sly grin as he met her gaze head-on. "But you haven't seen my special ability yet," he said, his voice oozing with confidence. "I can prove it to you if you give me a chance. Ava mentioned that you don't appreciate wasting your time."

Emily let out an irritated sigh, but her curiosity got the better of her. "Fine, show me what you've got," she relented, her tone laced with annoyance.

With a flourish, Joe pulled out two smooth pebbles, one in each hand. The stones glinted in the sun as he closed his eyes, channeling his energy. As he opened his eyes, he transferred the hardness from one pebble to the other, imbuing it with a new, pliant texture. The once rock-hard pebble in his right hand now felt surprisingly squishy to the touch.

Emily's eyes widened in amazement as Joe tossed the pebble her way. She caught it with her gloved hand, marveling at the transformation. "You're an alchemist?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Joe shook his head vigorously, "No, no, I'm not an alchemist," he said, correcting her earlier assumption. "I'm what some folks call a wizard or a mage. I can transfer the properties of one item into another."

Emily's eyes widened. "Any property?"

Joe grinned, "Some properties. It depends on the item, and how well I know the specific property. But the more I practice, the more adept I become."

Impatiently tapping her boots against the ground, Emily mulled over Joe's words. "Prove it," she said, walking past him. "But don't get too excited, it doesn't mean you're hired yet."

She led him to a rickety table piled high with various metals, all strewn haphazardly. Despite the chaos, Emily seemed to know exactly where everything was. She was a master of organized chaos, one of those people who thrive in the midst of clutter.

Without missing a beat, she rummaged through the mess and retrieved two small sheets of metal. One was a light brown hue, while the other gleamed like aluminum. Joe couldn't be sure if it was really aluminum, as he wasn't a materials expert, but he was ready to try nonetheless.

Holding one metal sheet in each hand, Joe focused his energy on transferring their properties. As he concentrated, he could feel the properties of the metals beginning to shift, morphing into something new. Though the names of the properties remained a mystery to him, he had no trouble accessing them.

Joe stood in front of Emily, holding two sheets of metal. He examined the sheets closely, and with a flick of his wrist, the properties appeared on the window. He frowned when he realized the names of the metals didn't show up. No matter, he thought, he didn't need the names to do what Emily asked.

"Looks like I can transfer their color. Do you want that, Emily?" Joe asked, holding up the sheets.

Emily snorted, "What good is that to me?"

Joe shrugged. "Maybe for marketing. People love pretty things."

"Only the stupid ones," Emily scoffed. "And I don't have stupid customers."

Joe chuckled, "Well, the last one didn't seem that bright."

Emily cracked a grin, but it didn't last long. "There are exceptions. Transfer the hardness."

Joe did as he was told, transferring the hardness from the light aluminum-looking metal to the light brown metal in his left hand. Suddenly, the color of the metal changed, deepening into a rich, dark brown. The window for the properties filled with more question marks than Joe had ever seen before.

Emily snatched the metal sheets out of Joe's hands, inspecting them closely. She tapped them on the table, letting out a strange hissing noise as her tongue flicked out, testing the vibrations of the metal. Joe couldn't help but wonder if Emily was part lizard with the way she moved her tongue.

"I can't hire you," Emily said abruptly.

Joe's heart dropped. "I did what you asked."

He trailed behind Emily as she stormed back to her forge. He couldn't help but feel like he was walking on eggshells around her.

"Transferring density and hardness is not enough," Emily spat, her voice sharp. "There's an art and science to forging weapons and tools. Just changing their properties doesn't mean it becomes a better tool for the job."

Joe sighed, feeling defeated. "Okay," he muttered, unsure of what else to say.

"But, there are different tools that people would want to be a little bit more resistant to weather," Joe added, hoping to salvage the conversation.

Emily turned to him, glaring daggers. Joe involuntarily took a step back. "And what if your magic threatens mine and other smith's way of life by extending the life of those tools?" she snapped.

Joe stumbled over his words, trying to backtrack. "I didn't mean it that way."

"Of course, you didn't," Emily sneered. "Because you're stupid."

Joe's heart sank, and he felt terrible. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you," he said. "I just want to be useful, you know? And it's not just about the money. I'm new to town, and I hate feeling like I can't make a difference."

Emily's eyes lingered on Joe for a moment longer before she turned her attention back to the forge. The heat from the fire was intense, and Joe could feel the sweat on his forehead starting to bead. He watched in amazement as Emily deftly manipulated the metal with tongs, her movements graceful and precise.

Suddenly, there was a loud groan from the fire, and Joe jumped in surprise. Emily didn't even flinch. Instead, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small object, tossing it into the flames with a frustrated sigh.

The fire roared to life, sending waves of heat pulsing through the room. Emily scowled, muttering under her breath as she watched the flames dance.

Joe couldn't help but feel a little intimidated by the intensity of her gaze. But when she turned to him, her expression softened just a fraction.

"You look like a puppy dog," she said. "Just because you look helpless and cute like a puppy, it doesn't mean everyone's going to take you in."

Joe blinked, he hadn't expected that. "You think I'm cute?" he asked reflexively.

Emily's glare turned into pure, silent fury, but she still said nothing for a long while before taking a deep breath and exhaling. Joe noticed that her arms were incredibly close to the fire, to the point where the flames almost licked against her skin. And he saw that her skin shimmered in an opulent array of rainbow colors.

Joe took a step forward to get a better look at her skin. Emily pulled back her arm reflexively, as if embarrassed. "What, you've never seen lizard kin before?" she asked. "They don't have them where you come from?"

Joe shook his head. "No, we don't. You and Ava are the first ones I've ever met. Your skin looks beautiful. I wish I had something like that."

Emily blinked as if stunned. She gulped and said, "Well, that's another reason why you can't work here. It gets incredibly hot in the forge and a little pup like you would just melt right away."

Joe had a good corny joke to follow up with, but the flames grew hotter and hotter to the point where he had to take a few steps back.

It was getting so hot that even Emily had to join him.

Joe said, "Is that supposed to happen?"

The flames coalesced together into a single form, taking on the shape of a small, nearly humanoid creature with a head in the shape of a flame. It shook an angry fist at Emily and shouted a lot of squeaky noises at her in a language Joe did not understand. Then it ran off past them with blinding speed through the door of the forge and then through the front door without opening it, leaving a burning hole in the establishment.

Joe just stared as it all happened so fast, not knowing what to do. He looked at Emily who looked just as surprised. Joe asked, "What was that?"

Emily seemed to gather her wits, picked up her hammer, and snarled, "Fire spirit."