I shrugged, hiding my smile. “It’s home. You get used to it.”
“I hope not. I hope I always find it magical and amazing. We just need to solve these murders so I can focus on learning all the amazing things a magic place like Ravenstone has to offer.”
He stepped up to the table and smiled at Mrs. Bloomgarden. “Good morning. My name’s Declan Hawthorne.”
She smiled at him. “I know, dear, you’re Elwood’s grandson. It’s so wonderful you’ve come to visit.”
“Yes, well, I do a lot of PR work back home, and he asked me to take some pictures for the town’s social media pages. Would it be okay if I took some pictures of you and your quilts?”
“It sure would. Thank you for asking.”
I watched as she stood there smiling and following his instructions as he had her hold up one of the brightest colored quilts. When he was done, I reached down and took his hand. “Well, let’s see if we can make the most of today. We can hit some of the booths so you can learn what magic exists here, you can take some pictures, and at the same time, we can ask some questions.”
“Sounds good to me. What I don’t understand is all the tourists. Does the magic not freak them out?” He looked around at all the people wandering from booth to booth.
“Let me ask you a question. What did you think about your grandfather’s store before you understood magic was real? He has crystals and potions, not to mention spell bags and scrying tools.”
“I guess I thought it was harmless fun. Not something to be taken seriously.”
“Exactly. The human mind is really good at explaining away things that don’t fit what they believe to be true about the world. Most of these people who visit are here because they love shows and movies about witches and vampires and all kinds of supernatural creatures. Maybe they even collect crystals and love to buy tarot cards, but for the most part, none of them believe in magic.
“They’ll take it as far as their brains allow. Crystals are lucky, and how much the card makes sense is uncanny. Some can even go so far as to believe energy and intention matter, but true magic? Don’t be silly.”
“That was exactly the way it was for me,” he said.
“Right, but now you can see the magic beneath. For example, look over there and tell me what you see.” I pointed over at a booth near the front.
“It looks like a table covered in wands.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I always wanted a wand when I was a child.”
“So now watch the girl who’s trying to choose a wand. In particular, watch her hands.”
We stood there and watched as she picked up the wands and put them down over and over until finally, she picked up one at the far end. She moved to lay it back down, and a small tendril of magic stretched out of the wand and wrapped itself around herwrist. She paused and then picked it back up. She looked at it before going to lay it down again with the same result.
She smiled and held it out to the woman behind the table. “I guess this is the one. I couldn’t seem to make myself put it down.”
The woman took the wand and placed it in a small box before taking the girl’s money. “You know what they say—the wand chooses you, not the other way around.”
The girl laughed. “It sure seemed that way, but truthfully, I just really love the color of the stone on the end.”
Declan looked up at me. “It really did choose her.”
“It did, and the woman told her as much, but she explained it away in a way that made sense to her.”
He looked thoughtful for a minute. “I’ve been doing that my whole life, you know. A friend would be ill, and I’d feel this tug to make them a honey-lemon cake with chamomile glaze, not even realizing it was my magic that understood what they needed. I just thought I was being nice.”
I leaned down and brushed a kiss across his lips. “You werejustbeing nice… you were alsojustusing magic. But now you know. So do you still want a wand?”
A smile spread across his face. “Really?”
“Really. Let’s go see which wand picks you.”
A short time later, with a wand in his pocket, a ton of social media pics, and a belly full of funnel cake—the non-magical kind, although all funnel cake was magic in its own way—we decided it was time to ask a few questions. We circled back around to the front of the festival and looked around.
“I guess we could start with Lily,” Declan said.
“We could, but I’m not drinking any of her coffee.”
He shrugged. “Depending on the flavor, I’d give it a shot. She seemed to really think her festival blend was going to be a big hit.”
