CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE BELL RANG over the door when Ana pressed into the witch’s shop at lunch. Old smells of herbs, flowers, leather, and mist hit her, and she inhaled the familiarity. She hadn’t been back to Icemyer in a few years.
A few dried flowers hung from twine on the walls. Jars of flowers and herbs lined the cabinets on the left, crystals adorning the shelves on the right. There were a few circular tables in the middle with books, journals, and other smaller objects and trinkets.
She took in the whole of the shop as she inhaled that scent again. A few other patrons looked over the flowers on the wall, one filling a few small plastic baggies. And then she noticed the woman helping this lady out.
The woman she’d met at the festival.
Cordelia, she remembered Jay calling her.
Ana picked up a leather-bound journal at the front table and thumbed through it, her eyes staying on Cordelia until the witch finally turned, and when she looked up, her gaze locking on Ana, the witch stilled.
She looked at Ana in an almost dream-like state, like Ana had walked out of another world and suddenly appeared before her. But she blinked as the lady she was helping asked a question, and then turned her attention back to the patron.
Cordelia kept an eye on Ana as she moved slowly around the shop, picking up a few trinkets with every few steps. Ana noticed Cordelia seeming to sell at a faster pace, like she were eager to get them out of the shop and only have Ana there. Ana went over to the crystals as Cordelia cashed the patrons out. She’d just picked up a rather interesting piece of tourmaline when she heard the bell over the door ring again, and she turned to see Cordelia lock the door behind her guests.
Cordelia’s dark eyes hovered over Ana as she looked at her over her shoulder. Silence beckoned the space, and Ana waited on the witch to speak.
“I hoped you would find your way here,” Cordelia said, her voice as smooth as reflecting sunlight rippling over water. She turned and leaned on the door, her gaze dancing over Ana. “I don’t think I truly noticed your eyes when we first met,” she continued. “I’ve never seen green eyes with such vibrance.”
Ana placed the crystal back on the cabinet and relaxed against it, palms bracing the top as she ignored the witch’s statement. “Lovely little shop you have here,” she said with another look around the space. “I wonder if the women that just left know you sold them dried weeds from your rooftop garden mingled with the ‘pure’ herb you have labeled there.”
Cordelia’s full, purple-lined lips quirked at the corner. She wasn’t wearing the bright eyeshadow today, just a little liner over her bright brown eyes, her lashes swept up, brows clean. Ana loved the dark purple shade of lipstick she was wearing, and she nearly asked her where she got it from. Until Cordelia stepped away from the door and began to chuckle under her breath.
“There are only two ways you could know the song you were singing the other night,” Cordelia said. “Either you are Death in the flesh, or you were raised by the closest coven left to the ancient ones: the Icemyer shadow witches.”
Ana stiffened as the woman looked her over.
“I’m inclined to believe the latter,” Cordelia continued. “Beauty like you… we’d have noticed you before if you were Death.”
“Seems to me no one around here notices anything about him,” Ana said, picking up a jar of dried rose petals on the nearby table. “Maybe I am Death.”
Another low laugh escaped the witch. “What is a girl raised by the shadow coven doing in a place like this?” she asked with a tilt of her head. “Shouldn’t you be performing rituals to the old gods? Or are you one of the last followers of Hazel Carrington?”
Hazel Carrington.
Ana knew the name, though she didn’t know why she knew the name. She’d never heard of an individual witch having a group of followers. Ana supposed that the woman had done something unspeakable or traitorous to her own kind.
“Do you always ask so many questions of your patrons?” Ana asked, getting bored with Cordelia’s inquisition.
“None of my patrons have been as interesting as you in some time,” Cordelia replied. She pushed off the door and finally started toward her. “So, tell me, girl. What brought you here?”
“I wanted to know if you were real,” Ana said bluntly. “I’ve seen others claiming to be witches when they were nothing more than humans thinking they could worship a star and all their pitiful little dreams would come true. Not knowing the true magik was deep within and yet, all around. That magik doesn’t require worship, but it does require respect.”
Cordelia’s smile widened. “So, you are of the shadow coven,” she noted. She picked up a raven skull from the table and rubbed her thumb over it. “What I would give to see those ancient texts,” she added. “You know, the demons here… some of them are quite prejudiced toward my kind. I’d be careful talking about your old friends.”
“Another reason I’m here,” Ana said. “I wondered what you could tell me about them. If they can be trusted.”
“Trusted?” Cordelia scoffed. “Trust is a blind word. I can’t tell you whom to trust, but I can offer something you might be interested in if you’re feeling a bit… overwhelmed.”
Ana’s brow elevated at the intriguing notion. “Oh?”
Cordelia stepped toward the back of the shop and gave Ana a beckoning nod, to which Ana only hesitated a moment to follow.
“Demons in Shadowmyer are more tame than those you may have known in Icemyer,” Cordelia continued. “I hear there they exist in their true forms. Feral, mostly.”
Demons and reapers in Icemyer were one of two things: excruciatingly violent with no human existence left in them, or absolute lovable beings that would hug you rather than kill you. They all existed in their shifted demon forms, completely raw with power and unapologetic for their ferocity and bloodlust. These were the only demons she’d knowingly come across, though now that she knew demons and reapers in Shadowmyer existed in human-like forms…
