Cosmo stretched and pulled out a book with his claws. I jumped back as the bookcase swung open, to reveal a secret room.
“Welcome to your lair.”
Chapter seven
Istepped into the secret room. The bookcase behind me swung shut, and I experienced a moment of panic. “Are we locked in?” I croaked. My skin felt hot and clammy.
“Pull on the sconce.” Cosmo nodded towards a vintage wall light shaped like an upturned green bowl. I rested my hand on the socket. It moved a little, and the room opened. My breathing and temperature returned to normal.
“Close it again,” he said.
I pushed the socket. Soundlessly, the opening disappeared.
Half a dozen bright lights illuminated the room, including one strategically placed over a large worktop. Built-in shelves underneath held books, cooking and potting shed equipment, wire rods shaped like clothes hangers and sticks that I took to be wands. That, or plant stakes. Aunt Violet had loved puttering about in her backyard, which grew vegetables, herbs, and both ornamental and edible flowers. Sometimes she made her own tea, from camellias, or elderberries.
“How are your gardening skills?” Cosmo asked.
“I can push a lawn mower.”
“Any baking?”
“Ready-mix. Or chocolate chip cookies. I’m really great at those.”
Did I hear him mutter, “What have I done to deserve this?”
“Why does it matter? I can follow easy recipes.”
“Do you have the faintest idea how much magic it takes to fill your aunt’s boots, and how important your job is for the people of this town?”
“You really get hot under the collar. I mean, if you were wearing one.”
He hissed at me.
“Well, excuse me if I’m not up to speed. That happens when you drop this whole mess into the lap of an unsuspecting woman.” I came close to hissing back at him. My recent post-divorce yoga and meditation classes had helped restore some peace of mind, but they hadn’t prepared me for this scenario. “And you said yourself: you can’t tell yet what I can or cannot do. What if I inherited her gardening and baking magic? What other options are there?”
We entered a staring contest. To my surprise, Cosmo blinked first. His whole body sagged, and was that a tear forming in his eye? Now I welled up to. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I guess we’re both not great at dealing with losing her. Snark is easier.” I picked him up and cradled him.
“I’m sorry too,” he said and licked up one of my tears that had fallen onto his paw. “Now, to answer your question about what your aunt did. For the last thirty-odd years she’s watched over Willowmere. She’s helped ease pain, both physical and mental, and she’s stopped bad deeds.”
“Black magic?” I whispered.
“Sometimes, but humans can do a lot of harm even without spells and hexes.”
“She stopped all that?”
“As far as she could. She put a number of protective measures in place.”
“And now that’s my responsibility?”
He nodded. “Do you see why it’s important that you take your new duties seriously, and that you learn as much as you can as fast as you can?”
I gulped and nodded in agreement. “Where do I start?”
“With baking for special customers. We’ll begin with an easy recipe. Lemon drop cookies.”
I glanced around This room – or lair – had ancient tomes, regular books about herb gardens, Wiccan lore, jars, and canisters by the truckload. What it lacked was an oven.
“In the kitchen,” he said. “Upstairs.”
