“Same circle. Same basement. Same salt. Same chalk.”
Good. Variables mattered. Zoe tipped the herbs back into the pouch and retied it neatly. “Thatisodd,” she said. “Alright. I’ll remake it for you. Different batch, no charge. Give me a couple of hours.”
Lina let out a breath and smiled. “Thank you. Litha is prime time for protection wards. I want everything ready.” Her smile turned sly. “This is going to bother you, isn’t it?”
Zoe chuckled. “A little. Not coconut-sized-nut. More... peanut-nut.”
Lina laughed. “Sorry it landed on you. I know how much you hate it when the math doesn’t math.”
“It’s fine,” Zoe said easily. “That’s why I keep notes. And grudges. But mostly notes.”
As soon as Lina left, Zoe reached under the counter and pulled out her notebook. She flipped to the next clean line and wrote carefully.
Angelica. Harvested May 28 (creekside patch). Ward failure to hold.
She underlined it once. Then she stared at the page. Three other entries stared back.
Yarrow. Harvested May 24 (south meadow). Ward instability.
Chamomile. Harvested May 26 (greenhouse). Decreased sedative effect.
Meadowsweet. Harvested May 22 (riverbank). Pain tincture delayed.
Zoe tilted her head, studying the list.
Not a disaster. Minor errors happened here and there, although she’d never been one for sloppy work. Minor errors didnotusually line up in a row, though.
She looked around the shop again. The hanging bundles, aligned just so. The shelves she stocked herself. The drying racks she checked twice a day without thinking about it. Tinctures, syrups, poultices, salves, capsules. Everything was made carefully. Precisely.
Everything behaving itself.
She closed the notebook gently.
“Okay,” she said to the empty shop. “Something’s being sneaky.”
Whatever this was, it wasn’t a coincidence. And it was definitely worth a closer look.
THE PATIO BEHIND THESummit Café was half shaded by climbing jasmine and a wide canvas umbrella that had seen better summers but was still doing honest, union-level work. Late afternoon light slanted in from the west, catching on glass rims and polished tabletops. Wind chimes tinkled lazily somewhere nearby, and the air smelled faintly of citrus peel, crushed mint, and sun-warmed wood.
Mystic Hollow was in its favorite in-between hour. Too late for errands, too early for evening, with no one feeling particularly obligated to be productive. Summer lingered without being pushy–yet. A few tables were occupied. Low voices. A laugh that rose and faded. The scrape of a chair as someone decided to leave.
Zoe sat with her forearms resting on the cool tabletop, condensation from her mojito dampening her fingertips as she nudged the glass absently. Ice clinked softly. One side of her face was warm from the sun, the other pleasantly shaded. It felt like a reasonable compromise.
Across from her, Jade looked radiant. Literally. Her skin held that soft, luminous glow all Oreads carried, like sunlight had brushed against her and decided to stay. She shifted sideways in her chair to give her dragonfly-like wings more room, the translucent membranes catching the light in small, cheerful rainbows that made passersby slow down to take a second look.
This was a good place to sit with a problem. Not to solve it, not yet. Just to let it breathe, the way herbs did before you decided what they were going to be.
“So,” Jade said lightly, twirling one dark curl around her finger, “did you freak out? I know you’re not freaking out now. You’re worried, which we’ll absolutely unpack in a minute. But did you freak out?”
“I didn’t freak out,” Zoe said, lifting her mojito. “Exactly.”
Jade grinned. “Of course you didn’t.”
Zoe took a careful sip. “But I’m also not going to pretend it’s nothing. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“It would honestly be easier for me to believe in a full cosmic malfunction than you making a mistake.”
Zoe laughed. “Flattering, if slightly alarming for the universe. It does mean something’s happening, and I’d like to know what.”
