“A bunch of us checked out the spot right afterward. It didn’t look like anyone had been there,” Reed, a friend of theirs, remarks with a shrug. While I’m glad to hear it was nothing, there’s something unsettling about our ward being set off right now.
During a quiet moment in the shop, I fold myself into a seat in the little lounge full of cozy chairs near the oversized windows at the front of the shop. My eyes roam the long, narrow space with antique dark wood shelves reaching the tall ceiling constructed well over a century ago. The shelves, filled with jars of ingredients, charms, amulets, potions, and much more, look almost as good as new. The rolling ladders attached to the top still slide along their tracks as smoothly as ever. I wonder if I should paint the deep eggplant walls a lighter shade. Maybe my mood is affecting my opinion today, but it feels too dark. A new paint color would fix that. So would new lighting. The old Moroccan lanterns were a later addition to the store. Those might need to go.
“I’m being ridiculous,” I mutter quietly to myself after daydreaming even more updates. If I’m not careful, I’ll gut the place without realizing it. I need to curb this line of thought for now. But I’ll revisit it later. I shouldn’t be afraid of change. I can’t wallow in the past any longer. If I want to do something, I’ll do it. No one can hold me back except myself, even if my magick is never restored.
Getting up from the chair, I light a fresh stick of incense, one of our customer favorites. It has calming properties that soothe without causing sleepiness. We offer a few scents, but orange blossom is my favorite. It smells exactly like a freshly bloomed flower on the tree.
After making a few calls and setting up vendor payments, most of my tasks are finished. An hour, then another, passes by quickly, always a pleasant surprise when working. When there’s not much else for me to do that doesn’t involve magick, I wave goodbye to Sunny and begin my stroll toward town hall where I parked my Wagoneer this morning.
As soon as I step onto the sidewalk, the hair rises on the back of my neck, that telltale sign of unease. My head twists around,but nothing looks unusual. It might be paranoia; it’s hard to tell. Still, the feeling sticks with me as I reach the next block. Other pedestrians pass by on the sidewalk, none the wiser to this nagging feeling that something isn’t right. Am I being followed? My steps pick up speed, propelling me until I’m nearly jogging. My breath is loud in my ears at the effort and my heart pounds uncomfortably against my chest. If I can just get to town hall, I’ll be safe. There’s a crunch on the pavement behind me and I yelp in fear, lunging forward to cross the street to its front plaza. I’m so close. I just need to sprint to the door...
The breath whooshes out of me as something hooks me around the waist, hauling me backward. A deep growl emanates from behind me as an automobile speeds by scarily fast down the sleepy street. The vicious sound fires up my instinct to fight with all my strength. “No!” I screech, alarmed by the dangers both in front of and behind me. I struggle against the tight hold, jerking my body to break free. I survived the fae once, I’ll do it again!
“Ada!” My name breaks through the haze, but I can’t stop thrashing against the restraint. “Ada! Stop! You will hurt yourself,” the roaring but flustered voice vibrates through my body, calming me enough to regain control of myself. The blind panic bleeds away and my struggle slows against the loosening band around my middle.
I force myself turn around and face the thing that’s been watching me, chasing me down the street, and scaring me half to death.Unbelievable. Norrell’s frowning mug peers down at me, only inches away. Reflexively, I shove hard against his chest. Though my strength is no match for his, he moves back to put some space between us.
“You scared me half to death!” My voice chokes. “Are you here to finish what the fae started?” I can’t seem to catch my breath.
“Of course not!” he bursts out, looking horrified. “I wanted to make sure you were okay, but you started running down the street not paying attention to traffic.”
I shake my head in disbelief while staring daggers at him. “Fire burn it to ashes, Norrell. I’mfine. Leave me alone!” My chest is still tight with fear. He’s the whole reason why I was running. He can’t turn this around on me.
“You did not look fine this morning. And you still do not,” he replies, a thread of concern laced in his voice.
“And I wonder why,” I seethe, emphasizing each word. “It’d be just peachy if you’dkindlystay out of my way for the remainder of your time here.” I twirl around and cross the street, this time looking both ways to make sure it’s clear.
“Ada, wait! There is something I must say,” he calls out from the spot where I left him. With ample space between us, I’m feeling a little more generous toward him.
“Fine. Spit it out,” I demand, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You will have your magick back, if it is the last thing I do. I know you do not trust me, but believe that if nothing else,” he portends, his voice jagged but earnest.
“Whatever lets you sleep at night,” I sneer, my voice like acid. I expel a long, rankled breath. His presence is so exhausting. I don’t believe a word of it, but he can go on pretending he’ll be the hero of my story, all noble and full of righteous anger. Maybe it will keep him busy and out of my way.
His icy blue gaze bores into mine a few moments longer before he finally turns on his heel, departing in the opposite direction. I’m still frozen in place, watching him as he goes. The ghost of his arm lingers around my waist. His hold was brusque and efficient. But it still stirs a glimmer within me that’s incredibly uncomfortable to ponder. I try to shake it off as Ifinally tear my eyes away from his retreating form and angrily stomp the rest of the way to my automobile.
When I get home, all is peaceful and quiet. Moon and stars it’s a relief to have the house to myself right now. There’s no sign Norrell followed me again. The rest of my guests are still at their meetings and they’re on their own for dinner later. I head upstairs to change and put away my mom’s brooch. Before I return it to its box, I run my thumb over it and then impulsively bring it to my lips. Wearing it brought me closer to her today. Reluctantly, I set it in its box and close the dresser drawer where I keep it.
I slip on a pair of linen pants and a fitted cotton shirt and head downstairs. I haven’t set foot in the workshop since Samhain, but I find myself drawn to it right now. Opening the door, there are no great surprises behind it. The room is neat and orderly, unlike when it was my mom’s. Most of the supplies and equipment here are useless to me now. Maybe I’ll ask Sunny if she wants to use it while I can’t. Her apartment is on the small side, so she might appreciate making a mess here instead of her kitchen.
Wandering down the hall, I fill the electric kettle for tea and grab my favorite mug. The boys trot in behind me looking for dinner now that I’m home. Vanny paws at my leg as I lean against the counter, trying to hurry me along. Earl Grey sits in front of his empty bowl and stares at me with unblinking eyes.
“I know what I’m good for,” I quip as I raise an eyebrow at them. Still, I obey their command and pull two cans of food from the cabinet. They meow demandingly as I walk over to fill their bowls. I’m instantly forgotten as they gobble down their meal.
The kettle is done and I pour water over the tea bag in my mug. I bring it with me and exit the back door to the garden, plopping down on a patio chair. It’s the only time I’ve had to myself today, without work or incessant questions or well-meaning but overprotective uncles. Now that I’m alone, there’s nothing to distract me from so many lingering painful memories that busyness keeps at bay.
Everything that felt alive in my house, that connected me to my parents, is now just switched off. Mayhap that’s why I wore the broach today. There’s no enchantment in it. It was simply a pretty piece of jewelry my mom loved. I do too. The whisper of their magick still drifting around the house, and even the shop, is lost to me. The family manor is now just a drafty old house. Their belongings are just objects collecting dust. Their remaining essence is gone.
If my magick is truly gone for good, I’ll sell the shop. The house, too. Maybe I’ll finally travel like my mom always encouraged me. There would be nothing holding me back. And I’d be more or less human anyway, so it would be easy to navigate their world. As the last of the family line in town, there’s no one left to judge what I do but me.
I’m sure my parents would understand if I left behind everything generations of my family held dear. Mayhap well over two centuries in Monstera Bluff is a good enough run for the Mayweathers, even as its founders. The tears welling in my eyes blur the garden in front of me as my mind weighs this heavy choice. A visit to their graves may help me decide.
Fifteen Years Ago
Branches catch my ritual robe, abrading the fabric as I stumble through the woods. I can’t bring myself to care. My parents aren’t here to see it anyway, only their remains. They weren’teven old yet. Still so full of life with big plans for the future. But death doesn’t care about any of that.
My dad was asked to travel to Norway to translate between groups of Whispered Folk in a dispute. There were enough languages involved to make translations complicated. My mom joined him since she had never seen that part of the world. They were looking forward to a long vacation afterward. They traveled via portal to Oslo and then flew to a smaller airport far north in the country to catch a private plane to the meeting site. They never made it. The plane crashed on the way. A mechanical error, the authorities said. Until their remains arrived, I thought it was a mistake. I couldn’t believe they were gone.
