Instead, the sisters had decorated with small, twinkling fairy lights strung across the ceiling in deep loops and numerous vining plants and ferns. It lent the place the air of an outdoor garden. I smiled and exhaled, reaching up to curl my finger around one of the ferns that had swept one of its fronds down to brush my hair.
As my powers continued to grow, the plants had begun acting oddly toward me, sometimes reaching out without me reaching for them first. I sent a small thread of magic out, enveloping the frond in my power. The fronds shivered and a small sound like a sigh came from the top of the pot.
This was what my powers were meant to do. Most things around us held some form of sentience, even if we didn’t understand what they said. Houses made of wood creaked and groaned, the sounds giving voice to the untold drama of our mundane and sometimes not so mundane lives. The soil whispered its secrets to the trees, and the rain washed away the worst of our sins.
Life was everywhere. All we had to do was open ourselves enough to listen.
Moira returned holding a tray with two cappuccinos. “On the house,” she said, gently sitting one in front of me before she reached for hers. I took the tray and set it aside.
“Marnie and Twila will be over once they shoo the rest of the customers out. Shouldn’t be long. They said they haven’t been that busy this evening.”
“Think they can help?”
Moira shrugged. We’d chosen the sisters because we knew them well enough to trust they’d keep their mouth shut, and they had powerful magic. They were hedgewitches, skilled in herbal lore and homecrafting, but it didn’t mean they didn’t havesome tricks up their sleeves. And tracking spells weren’t all that difficult. Moira could have done one if we weren’t concerned about what she might pull out of thin air if she tried one. For now, her magic was tightly leashed, but both of us were still nervous of what might happen if she relaxed her guard.
Marnie brought over two plates not too long afterward. One had a Salisbury steak piled high with mashed potatoes and roasted broccoli. The other held what looked like chicken pot pie with a side of braised carrots.
“Mmm,” I said, rubbing my hands together greedily.
Marnie smiled. “Want another cappuccino?”
“Please,” Moira and I said at the same time.
Her blue eyes twinkled merrily. “Coming right up, dears.”
She took the empty tray and hurried away.
Moira and I didn’t speak for a while, too busy shoveling in sustenance for the potentially long night ahead.
An hour and a half later,Marnie and Twila had pulled up chairs and stared dubiously down at the vacuum cleaner.
Twila rubbed a hand over her mouth. “Well, I guess that’s one way to do it.”
Marnie snorted. “No one ever realizes how much hair and skin a single person drops per day.”
“We sweep the shop every day,” Moira grumbled.
“Doesn’t matter,” Twila announced. “The body is constantly exfoliating itself.”
“Gross.” Moira sat back with a sigh. “He’s blondish. Does that help?”
“Isn’t Tess blonde?” Marnie asked.
“She’s more silvery. His was more of a golden color.”
The pile of dirt and debris said nothing, waiting for us to dig through and try to decipher which part of it was Lou and which part was our…exfoliation.
“We should have brought gloves,” I said with a sigh.
“Don’t fret,” Marnie said. “We’ll start looking for the blonde hairs first. But before we do, we can sort out the flotsam from the jetsam.”
Twila nodded and lifted her hands. Her eyes flashed purple with magic before she closed them and murmured some words in a strange language. As she chanted, power rose in the air, and the vacuum debris began to rise and separate, bits and pieces floating like space junk.
Moira stared at it with a slightly horrified expression.
I thought it was a cool trick and wondered how I could use it in my business.
“Bowl,” Twila barked.
