DWINDLE’SFARMERSMARKET
RETURNSINTWENTY FOURTEEN NINEFOUR DAYS
“You’re getting better,” she said, looking at the garden bed full of marigold plants with no blooms.
“I’m getting nowhere.” I threw my dirt-covered hands in the air. “Are people supposed to gnaw on pumpkin stems and marigold leaves? That’s an abhorrent salad.”
Warty, who had been skittering around my ankles all morning, made a retching sound and bumbled inside thecottage. Edge, who had just finished his sweep of the village, swooped in after him. Even they were giving up on me.
“Clara, you’ve only been at this for a short time. You will figure it out.” She tried to soothe me.
“We don’t have time, Hesper,” I said quickly. “Time is not on our side. Whoever she is? She hates me, I’m sure of it. Things in this garden either don’t grow at all, or they turn out like this—” I pointed to the massive nestleberry bush that had kept growing and produced nothing at all. “I don’t know what else to do, I’ve tried everything.”
Thunder sounded in the distance; a menacing gray cloud gathered on the horizon. A proper summer storm was brewing. Maybe the rain would encourage the plants to flower.
“Based on how things are going so far, it seems like you still have a block somewhere inside of you.”
“A block?”
“Yes, something preventing your magic from completing whatever you are willing it to do.”
“Let me ask you a question: You said heart magic is like a knitting basket, yes?” She nodded. “Great, so for this block, can I just unravel the sweater up to that point and restart again? How deep does that metaphor go, Hesper? How cosmically aligned is this blockage? How many billions of small, insignificant things do I have to do to get rid of this block?” I was getting unnecessarily petty, my tone dripping in sarcasm.
It was also close to dinnertime.
So.
Hesper laughed, her damned exasperated smile on her face.
“It is more than likely a heart matter.” She shrugged. “And while I’d like to think that I’m doing my due diligence learning every bit of you, there are parts of you that will always vex me.”
And there are parts of you that I want to—
Shut it!
My heart went silent.
“Hello, ladies!” Angus was at the garden gate, a large parcel in hand. “I brought dinner and—is that some leaves I see?” He asked so excitedly, his voice sounded like bird chirps.
“Uh, yes,” I called out, heading down the garden lane and unlatching the gate. “Not much by way of fruits and things, but plenty of green.” I took the heavy package from him. It smelled of bacon and butter.
“Look at it! Things are growing! And Clara and Hesper.” He clapped his hands together, his voice verging on that of an overly proud father. “What a lovely color for a cottage, if I do say so myself.”
“Thank you, Angus,” Hesper said, relieving me of the package. “I’m glad you approve of the exterior design.”
“I really do, and the garden is immensely impressive as well.” He elbowed me.
“Yes, well, hopefully you’ll have more than giant bushes to chew on for the market,” I tried to joke.
“Ah, anything will do,” he said merrily.
Would it?
“Any news from town?” I asked, trying to change the subject. Hesper and I had been locked away at the cottage for days. Who knew what could have transpired in our training haze?
A gust of wind howled through the garden. The storm was fast approaching, and the golden sunset was morphing into darkness.
“I’ll be quick!” Angus looked up at the sky in surprise, then spoke at an impressively clipped pace. “Charles the Blacksmith was seen dancing with Murt in the middle of the night before getting into quite a heated debate—very unusual for Murt. Giddy has added a new pastry to her menu—something with honey and paprika, but a few townsfolk have oddly given her grief for it. And Mabel didn’t open the library as she usually does. Folks are assuming she must be taking some time off.”
