“And risk Ostara’s wrath? Not on your life, lassie.”
Rhi glanced over at me, and so I started opening the little drawers in the apothecary cabinet, pretending to be fascinated with the contents, and then losing the thread of their conversation when I found myself momentarily distracted by what appeared to be a pile of bird bones. By the time I recovered, closed the drawer, and tried to listen again, they had moved on to another topic. It took a few sentences before my ear adjusted to Davina’s Scottish cadences again.
“…cannae decide what we ought to do about Bernadette,” she was saying as Rhi nodded along with a solemn expression.
Bernadette Claire. The name sent a shiver of dread down my spine. Bernadette was one of the Claires, the other oldest family in Sedgwick Cove, known as the Second Daughters. When the Vespers had worked to banish the Darkness, the Claires had helped them; but one of their own had fallen to the Darkness and betrayed them all, a woman named Sarah Claire. It wasSarah’s ghost, accidentally dragged earthside by Bernadette’s well-intentioned but dangerous meddling, who had turned Bernadette’s already fragile mind, and weaponized her to kidnap my mother and lure me into a trap. I’d been waiting for news of her for nearly a week, but the Conclave, notoriously tight-lipped at the best of times, had been virtually silent on everything to do with the events on the beach, and that included Bernadette. I shifted myself subtly toward Rhi and Davina, listening hard even as I pretended to still be examining the drawers.
“…but Ostara won’t back down,” Davina was muttering.
“But surely it’s in the best interest of all involved for a Cleansing to take place?” Rhi hissed back.
“Without a doubt, but you know Ostara. Stubborn as a mule, and with a mightier kick,” Davina grumbled under her breath. “We’ll have to sanction her if she does nae relent, but it will nae be pretty. She’s been through the wringer; the whole family has.”
I suddenly felt eyes on me and chanced a glance in their direction. Damn it. I’d been too still, listening too hard, and Rhi had spotted me. She raised her voice again and said, “These are what we have left in stock from Xiomara. Did you have a particular scent in mind? I know you’ve favored the orange and clove in the past, but we’re out of that at the moment.”
After what seemed like an excessive amount of deliberation, Davina settled on a bottle of Florida Water, and Rhi rang her up at the antique brass cash register tucked into the corner under the window. Shards of shattered rainbow light danced all over her pale skin and wild blonde curls, refracted from the crystal wind chimes hanging behind her. She slipped Davina’s purchase into a small cheesecloth bag with drawstrings. She tied it with a ribbon and a sprig of something that might have been rosemary. Davina tucked it into her bag, and with a curt nod in my direction, slipped back out the door and down the hidden staircase.
I pretended to be engrossed in the apothecary drawers so that I could mull over what I’d heard. The Conclave was arguing over what was to be done with Bernadette. It was the first news I’d heard of her since the events of a week ago, despite asking my mom and both of my aunts about it repeatedly. Each time, the answer had been the same: “The Conclave will handle the matter.” Well, it sounded like the Conclave wasn’t handling it at all. And what was a Cleansing? I hadn’t made it past burning scones in my magical education, so it was no wonder I didn’t have a clue. I thought about asking Rhi, but decided against it. She hadn’t wanted me to overhear her conversation with Davina, so I doubted she would answer my question.
Luckily, I knew a few witches who would. But I would have to wait until after the lunchtime rush.
There wasno set menu at Xiomara’s Cuban Cafe. You showed up, and they were serving whatever Xiomara decided she wanted to cook that day. Today, according to the Instagram page Eva ran for her grandmother, it was classic Cuban sandwiches, black bean soup, arroz con pollo, pork tamales, and tostones. I could smell the mouthwatering aromas from a block away, and as I turned the corner, and the cafe came into view, I understood why. The line to get in was out the door, which had been propped open to allow for the come and go of satiated customers. It also had the added effect of wafting the enticing aromas of Xiomara’s cooking out into the street.
Xiomara, like my aunt Rhi, was a kitchen witch. They had a playfully antagonistic friendship, trading recipes and spells back and forth, each insisting the other’s were rubbish while secretly enjoying each other’s truly magical—and delicious—gifts. As forthe hordes of summer tourists, they didn’t know that Xiomara’s cooking had an element of magic. They simply knew it was some of the best food they’d ever eaten.
I waited for the line to die down, and then slipped inside the cafe to find Eva and another girl handing out to-go orders, and wiping down tables. Eva looked up, and her face split into a grin.
“Hey, there she is—the girl who banished the Darkness!” she said, laughing as she watched my face turn beet red.
“Yeah, I’m thinking about putting it in my social media bio,” I said, attempting a level of cool I definitely couldn’t achieve. “By day, theater nerd. By night, banisher of ancient evil. What do you suppose the post-graduate job market is like for a skill set like that?”
“Hm. Limited. You should probably study accounting or some shit,” Eva said, nodding sagely. “Have you eaten yet?”
She didn’t even wait for me to answer, ducking immediately through the door behind the counter and shouting something in Spanish as she went.
I felt the distinct impression of eyes on the back of my head, and turned to see that the younger girl who had been wiping down tables was staring at me. She dropped her gaze the moment I turned, fumbled her bottle of spray cleaner, and dropped it. It rolled under the nearest table, and she ducked down to retrieve it with a squeak of embarrassment. The bottle continued to roll, coming to a rest right against my sandal. I bent down and picked it up, noticing that the girl was still under the table, frozen like prey that had scented a predator.
“Uh, here you go,” I said, holding the bottle out to her. Blushing furiously, she reached out from under the table and took the bottle with a shaking hand.
“Thanks,” the girl whispered. She had Eva’s prominent cheekbones and pointed chin, and looked to be about nine or ten years old. Her hair had been beautifully braided, with blue beadsaffixed to the ends that clicked together quietly as she moved. I wanted to know if she was Eva’s sister, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask the question; she looked so flustered to be talking to me. Luckily, at that moment, Eva backed through the door from the kitchen with two heaping plates of food in her hands, and a knowing smirk on her face.
“You know, Bea, if she wanted to banish you too, I don’t think hiding under the table would stop her,” Eva teased. She set the food down on a table in the corner and wiped her hands on her apron. “Why don’t you stop hiding and I’ll introduce you properly.”
Bea, her face scarlet with mortification, crawled out from under the table, looking anywhere but at me. “I wasn’t hiding. I dropped the spray bottle,” she muttered.
“Whatever. Bea, this is Wren. Wren, this is Beatriz, the bane of my existence, and also my baby sister,” Eva said, but her voice was full of teasing affection.
“Nice to meet you, Bea,” I said, smiling warmly, but Bea still looked like she wanted to flee the room. She nodded at me and then returned to wiping down tables.
“Don’t mind her; she’s just a little starstruck,” Eva said, rolling her eyes and pulling out a chair so we could sit together.
“Are you sure that’s it?” I asked, watching Bea out of the corner of my eye. “Because it looked more like abject terror.”
Eva shrugged as she bit into her sandwich. “What can I say? You’re a local badass now.”
“But like… is that the vibe now? People are scared of me?” I gasped. “Eva, I can’t even follow a magical scone recipe.”
Eva batted my words away like insects. “Okay, first of all, baking is hard. Xiomara has tried to teach me, and I just don’t have the patience for it. Not all kinds of magic are for all witches, and it’s not a reflection on you if you have to try out a few before you find one that vibes with your powers. Okay?”
