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“Kurlop,” Sarah said, shaking her head. “Creepy things. And you’re saying a woman was carrying it?”

Silas’s head bobbed vigorously. “Yes! Is that not a . . . normal way to treat a kurlop?”

Sarah huffed. “Maybe if you’re Margaret Nettle.”

“Margaret Nettle,” Silas said, considering the name. “Is that some kind of . . . kurlop wrangler?”

Sarah laughed to herself, shaking her head fondly. Whoever Margaret Nettle was, clearly she and Sarah were on good terms.

“I’ll bet my entire sugar supply this woman was a redhead,” Sarah said. “Is that right, Professor?”

Silas blinked. “Why, yes, actually. How did you—”

“Just like I said,” Sarah said, snapping her fingers. “Only one woman in town who can handle a kurlop like it’s just another day. Or who would even attempt it,”

“Well,” Silas said. “She seemed very capable. Very, uh—certain.”

In his mind, he saw a flash of her out there in the woods, auburn curls whipping around her face, gaze settled curiously on Silas himself. As if he was the peculiarity rather than what was in her arms. Just the memory made him smile.

When he looked back at Sarah, she was watching him with a glint in her eyes and something unreadable playing about her lips. She looked him up and down, assessing something, before clapping her hands together.

“I should’ve thought of it first thing,” she said, leaving him thoroughly confused. “Hang on, let me get Priya—Priya, come on out here.”

From the back of the shop, another witch around Sarah’s age appeared. Her long black hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and she looked around as if expecting a fire. When she didn’t see one, her brown eyes landed on Sarah with confusion.

“What’s going on?” Priya asked. “What’s the problem?”

Silas wanted to know, himself. Sarah didn’t look irritated. Instead, she looked as if Silas had given her some kind of gift. But what . . . he had no idea.

Sarah grinned, pulling the woman into a side hug with one arm and gesturing to Silas with the other.

“No problem at all,” she said. “Except our friend Silas here has finally found a girl.”

“What?” Silas said, eyes popping. “Oh, no, that’s not—”

“And here I thought it was something important,” Priya said, rolling her eyes.

Sarah shushed her. “It is important. He’s been spending the last several months hiding from the world—”

“Excuse me,” Silas said, feeling this wasn’t exactly what had been happening. He’d been focused, that was all. Hiding made it sound like a bad thing, which it certainly was not.

“And now he’s meeting Margaret Nettle, of all people,” Sarah declared.

“Margaret?” Priya asked, her face brightening now. “He’s met our Mags?”

“Exactly!” Sarah said. “It’s perfect. I’m not sure how I didn’t see it before.”

“Ladies,” Silas said. “I’m not sure—”

“Is he good enough for her, though?” Priya asked, raising an eyebrow as she glanced over at Silas.

“He’s a professor,” Sarah said. “A bit antisocial, but we can fix that.”

Silas felt this was a bit much, but he didn’t have a chance to defend himself before they pressed on.

“Maggie works too damn hard,” Priya said. “She needs someone to lean on. And I suppose he is quite tall.”

“I was thinking the same thing. And then there’s—”