Chapter 68: The Real Wizarding World
The first shop they entered had no sign — only a string of dried bats hanging from the door frame.
Their eye sockets had been replaced with some sort of luminous red gem that, in the dim light, looked like dripping, bloodshot eyeballs.
Inside was darker still. Most objects on the shelves were reduced to vague outlines — the shadows of bottles and jars barely discernible.
Behind the counter stood a wizard so thin he might have been a skeleton: deep-set sockets, pallid skin, fingers elongated like bird talons.
Seeing Orion, he split into a grin. Yellow-black teeth.
"Mister Black." His voice was sandpaper on raw wood. "This month's shipment is ready. The usual."
He dragged a black leather case from beneath the counter and cracked it open.
Regulus glimpsed dozens of glass jars packed inside in neat rows, each holding a preserved organ.
Eyes. Hearts. Fingers. One jar even contained an entire fetal embryo, curled in murky liquid, skin so white it was translucent, veins clearly visible.