“Ah yes, Ismerelda. I remember her.” His head turned and his voice was low, a hiss for her ears only. “Nasty even as a child. Let’s make sure she hurts her back lugging her whole table of stock to the car after closing today.”
She didn’t understand what it was about Holt that made her argumentative and defensive, eager to snap back, when she was meek and quiet any other time. She wondered if he’d had this effect on Willow. She didn’t know what it was, but Ladybug decided she was grateful for it all the same, for at that moment, she was possessed by the singular need to show up those witches who’d all smiled superciliously as she was cast from the circle, and if that meant she had to converse with every single stranger in this room for the rest of the day, she would do so with the brightest smile she could muster, shoving her nerves and anxiety into the closet of her mind until later.
“Are you the spider witch?”
The question came from one of the pot-scrubber goblin women beside them, and although her tone was neither rude nor overtly suspicious, Ladybug floundered.
“Oh! She probably means Anzan,” Holt laughed after a moment of her stunned silence, a moment which she spent gaping like a codfish. “Yes, that’s us! He was unable to get the day off, unfortunately. He really wanted to be here for support, but alas, the wheels of commerce never stop moving.”
The goblins exchanged a dubious look, both of their heads swinging back around to Ladybug.
Change the narrative. A ripple up her spine as the thought was placed in her head.Do you want them to see the bloodsport? Or the basket weaving?Her shoulders straightened. She would never be good at this, but Holt was right. For Anzan’s sake, she would try.
“Yes,” Ladybug added with a weak laugh of her own. “He-he works in tech and, um . . . sometimes its non-stop. He was disappointed not to make it to our first day.” Anzan would have sooner volunteered for an Arctic expedition before he willingly came to the community center in the middle of a bustling Makers’ Mart, but she followed Holt’s lead.
“I don’t envy his hours but I wouldn’t say no to the salary,” Holt joked gaily, grinning winsomely at the trolls, bringing them into the joke. The original speaker’s eyebrows shot up, while her companion nodded sagely.
“My nephew works in tech and he makes more money than he knows what to do with. My sister keeps telling him it’s time to settle down, start a family, buy a nice house.”
As she watched, Holt deftly turned the conversation, and suddenly he and the two goblins were chattering about babies and families until a fresh crop of customers stepped up to the table, and conversation was forgotten. He was snapping his fingers when a human and minotaur couple meandered away, bag of soap in hand, turning to her with fire in his citrine eyes.
“I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner. This is the perfect opportunity, Elizabeth. You can change the perception from this table. Little by little.”
“I’m going to what?”
He huffed, rolling his eyes in exasperation, turning his back slightly as a throng of people crowded the aisle. “Change the narrative. Slip him into conversation casually, don’t dwell. You want to paint the idea of him being here to be as boring and mundane as everyone else’s lives. They think he’s spinning webs for their children. You’re going to make them think he’s home watching television and drinking coffee.”
“But thatiswhat he’s doing.”
The smile Holt gave her was devoid of humor, his fangs gleaming like knives. “Just follow my lead, okay?”
For the next hour, any time a question was asked about a specific product, Holt would address the asker, none-so-subtly redirecting the question to her. By the second hour, she was answering the questions herself.
“Um, that–that one is made with locally sourced cream and honey. And, um, the roses are grown in my own garden and steam distilled. Rosa Damascena. They carry the strongest, purest fragrance, and we never use any chemical pesticides.”
The elf before their table was beautiful. Long, shiny hair, a soft blush in her lavender cheeks and at the tips of her long, pointed ears. She smiled prettily at Ladybug, her green eyes fluttering closed as she inhaled the smell of the lotion she had just rubbed into the top of her hand.
“Oh, that is divine,” the elf sighed. “This is the one, I want to smell like this all the time.”
“Well, I–I have a few different products with it, so you can.” Ladybug laughed awkwardly, internally cringing.Do you always sound like that? You laugh like a bird with a broken wing!“That lotion and-and then there’s a body butter, and a dry-finish cream stick. The Love Me Madly intention oil . . . oh, and then of course the shampoo.”
The young woman smiled wistfully, her gaze following Ladybug’s hand to the roller balls of intention oil on the alternating steps.
“Love Me Madly,” she murmured. “Is that a love spell?”
Ladybug smiled.No more injured bird sounds. You can do this.“It’s not. Um, but Idomake those, if you’re in the market. Not that I think you need any help,“ she quickly added. “Please, take my card. I offer private spellwork for clients. I-I’ve earned full accreditation and am licensed through the state agency, I come from a long line of witches, and I can provide references upon request.”
She was beginning to sound robotic and talking too much. Swallowing hard, she gestured again to the rollers of oil. “The intention oils are more about . . . well, intent. They help to focus your intent, they provide you something specific to focuson, and the herbal properties in each enhances your concentration. Every bottle contains a crystal that was charged beneath the appropriate moon to amplify the herbal properties. You can think of them as manifestation oils, if that’s more grounding.”
“Manifest your reality,” the girl said with a smile. “Yes, I’ll take one of those as well, and the other things you mentioned. I love this for us, I really do. Did you say there was a shampoo?”
There were several other shoppers at the table, and all had been listening as she spoke, Ladybug realized. Two selkies elbowed each other to reach the display of intention oils, examining the labels and holding up the bottles to the light to see the crystal inside. Ladybug felt as if she might levitate with excitement.You did that, all on your own. You didn’t even need Holt’s help.
“Yes! Shampoo and conditioner, of course. It’s made with strawberry essence and the same Rosa Damascena distillation.”
“You should buy a second bottle to keep at your boyfriend’s house.” The elf looked up from the bottle she was holding, her mouth dropping open at Holt’s words. “You know, so you don’t have to use his. The last thing you want to smell like ishisstuff. It’s such a trip. Because it doesn’t actually smell like him on you, you know?”
Ladybug had no idea what he was talking about, but the elf seemed to. Understanding bloomed in her wide eyes, and her laugh tinkled like a little crystal bell. “I know exactly what you mean! A few weeks ago I used his soap thinking I would smell like him for the rest of the day and it was just so wrong.”
