Chapter 3
Selene
“Hold your arms out at your side.” I encircle my friend’s slight frame with my trusty tape measure and scribble a note of her bust and waist measurements in my design notebook. “Arms down.” Dove immediately drops her arms, her hands slapping against the sides of her thighs, and one corner of my mouth ticks up with amusement. I finish taking the last few measurements I need for her new chef’s coat, then step back, taking a seat on the midnight-purple chaise opposite the shop’s dressing area. “All done.”
Dove bounces excitedly on the balls of her feet, a few strands of blonde hair escaping her ponytail. “Great. How long will you need? Do you think you could have it ready by the Halloween festival?”
“You mean the festival over a month away? Yeah, I think I’ll manage.”
“Sorry.” She tugs her pale-blue cardigan dotted with embroidered daisies back on, tucking her fingers inside the long sleeves. The weather’s still fairly mild, we’re right at the start of September and the crisp chill of autumn has only just begun creeping in, but by the way Dove acted when I told her to take off the extra layer so I could get her measurements you’d thinkit was the middle of winter—she’s never been one to handle the cold well. “I’m just super excited for this year’s festival. I’ve got so much planned for the bakery and its booth in the town square.”
“I know. Your treats make every town event extra special.” Sweet Dreams may be new in terms of the longevity of businesses here in Crystal Lake, but in a few short years Dove has already left her mark on the town and its residents. I’m certainly not the only one looking forward to the limited-run creations she’ll offer this October. I pat the space next to me, notepad and pen poised and ready. “Now tell me what you’re looking for.”
“OK. Well, I do enjoy classic white, but I thought incorporating the shop’s colours into the design could be fun.” She grimaces. “I don’t want to look like I’m trying to blend into the walls though.”
My lips twitch. “How about a white base with pink and turquoise accents? That way you’ll still be wearing the shop’s colours without any risk of accidental chameleon side-effects.”
“Perfect.”
“And the enchantments?”
“Anti-stain, obviously.” Smirking, I tap the end of my pen next to where I’ve already listed that enchantment in my notes and she giggles. We both know she can be a little… chaotic when she bakes. She says the mess is part of her creative process. “Um, something that’ll regulate my temperature, like keep me cool in the summer but warm in winter? Can you do that?”
“Usually it’s one or the other. I’ve not tried to use both spells on the same article of clothing before. Let me ask Gwyn if she’s done it—if not it might take some trial and error.”
Dove gives a little hop of her shoulders. “OK. If you can’t do both, go for the one to keep me warm.”
“Anything else? Self-cleaning?”
“Ooh, yes.” Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth. “I think that’s everything.”
“OK, just let me know if you think of anything else. I’ll spend the next couple of days sketching out design options for you to choose from.”
She loops an arm over my shoulders in a side hug. “Thanks Selene. I’m excited to see what you come up with.” Dove unfolds to a standing position, swiping up her handbag from where it rests next to the chaise. “I should get back to work but I’ll see you and Cordelia for coffee tomorrow?”
“Sure.” The three of us gossip over coffee at Sweet Dreams at least once a week. For a small town we sure manage to create an awful lot of drama, or maybe that’s why there’s so much going on—everyone’s too invested in everybody else’s business. Cordelia usually has significantly more to dish thanks to her work as a matchmaker. Nothing that would give away her client’s identities—she’s a professional with a reputation to maintain—but we still get a kick out of her stories. Dove sometimes witnesses a bit of drama from behind the bakery counter. As for me, I’d be the last to know everything if it wasn’t for our dish sessions.
The next few hours I’m kept busy between assisting the locals who pop in to shop, and packaging online orders placed through the supernatural network. Our shop is my happy place. Well, technically Threads of Magic is Gwyneth’s shop—I just work here, but it’s very much a family business. I’ve worked here since moving to Crystal Lake and my niece, Gwyneth’s sixteen-year-old daughter Eve, works here part-time a couple of days a week after school and on weekends. The cosy space is something of a second home to me. Its familiar walls are laden with mahogany shelves and brass hooks holding my and Gwyn’s creations. While we frequently take custom orders like Dove’s new chef’s coat that we design, create, and enchant ourselves, we also stockclothing from other designers we’ve partnered with that we add basic enchantments to—that’s what occupies most of the shop floor.
I’m restocking a rail of button-down men’s shirts with an anti-wrinkle spell on them when Gwyneth arrives to take over for the closing shift.
“Hey, how was your morning?” I ask, adding the last missing size to the rail.
“I got a call from Eve’s school.” She slumps against the shop’s counter, her hazel eyes clouded with concern. Despite our fourteen year age difference, looking at my older sister is almost like looking in a mirror thanks to the slowed ageing we get to enjoy because of our heritage. She’s a couple of inches shorter than my 5ft 5”, but we share the same almost milk-white skin, curvy frame, and ebony hair. The only major differences are my full fringe and, where her eyes are a swirl of green and brown, mine are the striking electric-blue often associated with moon witches.
“Is she OK?”
“Yeah, physically at least. Some of the girls in her class have been giving her a hard time and when she stood up for herself the school took their side because, well,you know.” Idoknow.
Every witch has a tarot card drawn for them shortly after birth at their Naming ceremony. This card reveals the type of magic the witch will grow up to specialise in. For most the Naming is a small celebration limited to only close family and friends. The more prestigious witch families make an entire production out of the ceremony, using it as an excuse to flaunt their wealth and power. Of course sometimes this backfires, for example, if the child in question doesn’t receive the ‘right’ card. I was raised to believe there are no inherently bad cards, only magic users who use their power to do bad things. Unfortunately not every magic user is of the same school of thought.
At my Naming, The Moon was drawn for me, meaning that, as well as the basic magic all witches have, I would become strong in the magic of divination and insight. Even though witches need someone with my kind of magic to perform the Naming—it is a prediction of sorts—a lot of the witches in our hometown preferred to avoid us. People don’t like the idea that someone has the power to uncover their secrets. The Moon is far from being the card with the worst reputation, but it still made things difficult for me growing up. It’s also how Gwyneth and I ended up moving to Crystal Lake—sanctuary towns are far more open and accepting to all kinds of supernatural. Gwyn moved here when she met her now-mate Brooks, a water fae. Just as well because a year after they got married, Eve was born. Inter-species matings are unpredictable when it comes to the traits their offspring will inherit. In some rare cases children will have a mix of qualities, but most of the time they’ll take after one parent over the other. With Eve, Gwyn’s witch genetics came out dominant with no sign of Brook’s water fae abilities so far, and her magical signature reads as one hundred percent witch. But unlike Gwyn, she didn’t receive a ‘good’ card at her Naming. No, Eve drew one of the most feared cards.
“Doesn’t the school have a zero-tolerance policy for bullying?”
“Apparently it doesn’t apply to my daughter because, and I quote, ‘it’s best she gets used to it now before leaving for her Academy training’— it’s bullshit.”
“I take it you went down there and told them that?”
