Page 25 of The Little Shop of Curiosities Cursed Object 1, The Music Box

“No,” he laughs. “I didn’t mean it quite like that, but what’s wrong with making a friend? At least he’s someone who’s already seen you use your abilities, and he seems like someone who has an interesting story of his own.”

“Maybe,” I say quietly, thinking back to how familiar the cute stranger had appeared. Like I’m supposed to know him somehow. “I’ll think about it.”

I glance across to the black cloth-bound book on the kitchen counter and think back to the forest and Diana. Uh…

Maybe I won’t tell Dad about that just yet. I don’t want to send his anxiety through the roof until I know what it all means, and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to hear anything Pop has to say about a very naked Herne.

“Hey, do either of you have a book from the eighteen hundreds written by a man named Elias Black? It’s called The Path of the Witch.”

“I don’t,” Pop replies. “Babe?”

“I don’t either. Why?”

It’s there dancing on the edge of my tongue, the desire to tell them all about the strange book and the most powerful spell I’d ever performed, one that literally transported me to a place between worlds, a place I had created, to meet a goddess and a god who told me I have a whole destiny with four other people.

I think back to how worried Dad’s been ever since I moved, and the thought reaffirms now is probably not the best time to drop that particular bombshell on them. I’ll just wait until I’ve figured it out, which seems to be the sensible thing to do.

“No reason. I found a copy mixed in with all my other books, and I don’t remember getting it. I thought maybe I’d mixed up one of your books with mine.”

I hadn’t acquired it; I know that for a fact. I’m meticulous at curating my books on magic, and it’s definitely not stock for the shop. I’d have logged it as inventory in that case.

“Well, it’s not one of ours,” Pop replies. “Is it any good? I must admit, I’ve not heard of Elias Black before.”

I make a humming, noncommittal sound and change the subject. “What have you both been up to?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” Dad answers. “Working and getting ready for Litha. It’ll be the solstice before we know it. You must be busy with the shop.”

I am. The orders are already starting to pick up. As one of the four major sabbats of the witches’ calendar, the summer solstice was not only the perfect time for celebration, but also for working potent magic.

“It is busy.” I nod.

There’s another moment of silence before Pop finally speaks up. “So, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

“What elephant?”

“Have you seen her?” he says gently. “Your mother?”

I inhale slowly. “No, not exactly,” I confess. “I made it as far as Whitechapel, even to the building where her shop is.”

“She has a shop?”

“Yes, for occult books and curiosities.”

“I guess the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, then,” Pop says in amusement, but I ignore him. I’m pretty sure that’s where the similarities between me and my birth mother end.

“I wasn’t ready to meet her. I couldn’t make myself cross the threshold, but–”

“But what?” Pop asks.

“I think Dad’s right. There’s something about her, about that building. It felt…” I search for the right words while they both listen patiently. “It felt like I was being watched, then when I touched the door handle, I was hit with a flood of images.”

“What did you see?” They both ask in tandem.

“I’m not entirely certain. It’s confusing, but there was a portal to another place, and a black mirror, and so many shadows swarming over a book.”

“What kind of book?” Pop frowns.

“I’m not sure. Something powerful though.” I bite my lip thoughtfully while banging and shuffling sounds come through my phone’s speaker.