Heirloom Magic: Every Witch Way (3 page)

“I’m Vivian
Martins, by the way,” the woman said, pulling a business card out of her pocket
and handing it to Harper. “Give me a call if you ever need anything,” she said
with a wink, and then she too was gone.

Harper stared
after them before going to make sure the front door was shut. It was wide open,
and there was a lone young woman walking up the steps. Harper was nearly ready
to put a no trespassing sign up. The young woman looked up and gave Harper a
bright smile.

“Hi. You must be
Harper,” she said, stating the obvious, and Harper nodded.

“I am…” The young
woman pressed a pan into her hand that looked like a cobbler of some sort.

“Thank you.”

“I’m Mallory
Conrad,” she paused and looked down at her hands before seeming to firm up her
resolve, and she looked back up at Harper. “I worked at the shop with your gran.
She was a great lady.” Harper watched a tear trickle down Mallory’s cheek and
felt one of her own, dangerously close to the surface.

“Yes, the shop,”
Harper said to distract her frazzled emotions. “I had no idea she even had an… apothecary.”

Mallory chuckled
at her words.

“Your gran was a
free spirit, that’s for sure. She just woke up one day and decided she wanted
to try it. She was already doing all of the work from home by that point.”

Harper smiled to
hear a memory of her gran. “You sound like you spent a lot of time with her,”
Harper replied, feeling a small tug of envy when the other woman nodded.

“I’ve worked there
since day one. I was seventeen at the time, but she took me on as her
apprentice anyway—said I had a gift. I’ve worked there the last ten years and
it’s been a wonderful experience.” Mallory took a deep breath. “That shop is my
life, which is why…I’ve come to ask you what’s going to happen to it,” she
blushed, and Harper felt very put on the spot.

“I’m sorry, but I
haven’t really had a chance to think about it yet,” Harper replied honestly
with a bit of a wince. She hadn’t realized there was more than just her own
well-being riding on this decision.

Mallory took a
deep breath. “To make a proper decision, you should really familiarize yourself
with the business…would you be interested in a tour?” she asked in a nervous
rush, and Harper paused.

Doubt began to
creep onto Mallory’s face. “I’m sorry…how thoughtless of me. Of course you
would want time to adjust,” she shuffled her feet uncomfortably.

“Actually,” Harper
said, giving the other woman a ghost of a smile. “A distraction is exactly what
I need right now.”

Mallory beamed at
her, and Harper really felt like she’d made the best decision. “Would you like
to come in for a minute? I just have to put this in the fridge,” she said,
motioning to the cobbler in her hands, and Mallory nodded.

Both women stopped
short when they walked into the kitchen and were confronted by the mountain of
food gracing the counter top. “I think you have more than just my cobbler to
put away,” Mallory said with a chuckle, going over to the fridge with the ease
of someone who was familiar with the house.

She paused, hand
on the door, and looked at Harper. “Do you mind if I give you a hand?” she remembered
to ask, and Harper shook her head.

“Of course not. I
would actually appreciate the help,” she said, liking the other woman
instinctively. There was something calming about Mallory. “I have to warn you
though, there are some pretty weird ingredients in there.” Harper remembered
just as Mallory opened the door and stood there taking in all the containers.

“These could
probably go back to the store if you’d like?” she asked permission, even as she
began pulling container after container out and stacked them on the counter. “Your
gran liked to bring her work home with her…though I expect it will be a while
yet before you will feel the same,” she said with a chuckle.

Harper nodded her
head, wondering what was being made in the apothecary that needed the nasty
sounding ingredients. She picked up one container in particular that listed the
ingredient as eye of newt and held it up to Mallory. “Is this for real?” she asked,
and Mallory nodded, her red curls bouncing.

“I’m afraid it is,”
she admitted, making Harper set it gingerly back down with a grimace.

“I think you have
enough room now,” Mallory announced, stepping back to admire the bare shelves.

“I can see why I
couldn’t find anything to eat this morning,” she told the other woman with a
small smile; her gran was a little eccentric. Everything in the fridge had been
ingredients from the store. “I’m glad I didn’t try to cook anything!”

The two women slid
the fridge and freeze full of casseroles until it was close to bursting.
“There’s another freezer in the basement if you get any more,” Mallory told her,
and Harper remembered the possum and gave a small shudder. She would have to
face it eventually—but that would probably not be today!

“Ready to get
going?” Mallory asked, pulling Harper’s attention away from the possum issue.

Harper nodded,
stopping to reach in the bag and grab the large set of keys as she slipped her
coat on and headed out after Mallory. “Are you okay riding in my car?” Mallory
asked, and Harper nodded.

Mallory’s car was
a nice yellow compact that kind of reminded Harper of a big sunflower on
wheels.

“It isn’t very far,”
Mallory assured her as they took off down Main Street. Lots of people stopped
to wave and then stare at Harper, until Harper began to feel like a bug
underneath a magnifying glass. “Small town living,” Mallory shrugged, noticing
her companion’s discomfort.

“I’m really not
that interesting,” Harper said, feeling a need to fill the silence, and Mallory
shot her a sideways glance.

“You never know.
You just might be more interesting than you think,” she told her with a secret
smile. Harper looked back at the other woman. That was kind of a strange thing
to say, but before Harper could ask her what she’d meant by it, Mallory
interrupted her thoughts. “Look, we’re here.”

Harper stared out
at the perfectly quaint little shop on Main Street. It was a cutesy little
novelty shop with crystals, pendulums, odd plants, and dried herbs hung upside
down on display…and a framed picture of Elvis that didn’t really fit with the
rest of the theme.

“Gran sure loved
her some Elvis,” Harper couldn’t help remarking, making Mallory grin.

“He’s kind of like
the mascot for the store,” she agreed with a chuckle. ”There’s actually a small
Elvis section where we sell small bits of memorabilia to the tourists,” she
confided, and Harper’s eyes widened.

“Well, Gran swears
he once stopped in at the local burger joint and she ate lunch with him…”
Harper reminisced with a sigh, and Mallory nodded—obviously she had heard that
story a few hundred times as well.

“Ready?” Mallory
asked when Harper just sat staring at the door like it was the entrance to the
devil’s chamber.

“Not really,”
Harper admitted. “But we might as well do it anyway.”

Chapter Three

The store was pretty much what Harper imaged an apothecary would look
like. Glass shelves lined the walls, displaying roots, herbs, and small glass
vials filled with ingredients, potions, and salves. Rainbows danced across the
walls from the multitude of crystals that hung in every window. There was a faint
smell of lemon and eucalyptus in the air. At the back was a three-sided glass
counter with an old-fashioned cash register perched proudly on top. A revolving
jewelry stand sat on one side of the till, filled with beaded necklaces,
feathered earrings, charmed bracelets made of stones and leather, and to the
left of the cash register was the Elvis memorabilia display. It stuck out like
a sore thumb, but somehow seemed right—it was so Gran.

“Wow,” Harper
murmured, and Mallory beamed at her.

“It’s something
special, isn’t it?” she said proudly, and Harper could only nod dumbfounded.
The place was obviously a tourist trap, and Harper had to wonder if her gran
had actually turned a profit selling funky rocks and fake love potions.

“We do all of our
work in the back,” Mallory said, stepping behind the counter and taking her own
set of keys out of her pocket. She opened a door that Harper hadn’t noticed at
first. “Come on,” Mallory motioned when Harper looked on uncertainly. “This is
where the magic happens,” Harper snickered at the
MTV Cribs
reference
and liked Mallory even more.

She stepped
through the door and froze. If the front was a tourist trap, then the back was
something out of Dr. Frankenstein’s lab. Glass beakers of every size, Bunsen
burners, eye droppers, and a wide array of glass vials filled with who knew
what—sat prominently in the middle of the floor. To her left, against the wall,
was a large industrial stainless steel fridge and freezer. Harper shuddered,
imagining the creepy things her gran had kept in there.

A bubbling drew
her attention to the far wall, and Harper stopped to examine a large stone
gargoyle head with a yawning mouth that jutted from the wall and seemed to be
spitting water down into a stone basin pool on the floor. It kind of reminded
Harper of a fountain, but she’d never seen one inside like this before. The
very back of the store was stacked haphazardly with cardboard boxes.

Mallory saw Harper
looking and waved her hands at the jumble. “That’s our storage corner, we don’t
have a lot of room to work back here.” Harper looked around in confusion. What
was it exactly that they worked on?

“Over here is the
greenhouse,” Mallory continued, oblivious to Harper’s confusion. “We grow a lot
of our own ingredients—it makes them more potent.” Harper walked through a door
and found herself in a veritable jungle of overgrowth. The air was heavy and
moist, and the sun beamed down overhead, making her prickle with warmth. She
instantly fell in love with this room.

“I’ve never seen a
greenhouse quite like this,” Harper commented, and it was true. Most
greenhouses held staunch rows of vegetation, perfectly organized for maximum
growing space, but this one was wild and free and appealed to her soul on a
level that Harper didn’t exactly understand.

“You like it,”
Mallory said, and it wasn’t a question. “This was your gran’s favorite place to
cast her spells and enchant her charms. She said it relaxed her, brought her to
another level of awakening.”

Harper stared at
Mallory like she’d grown an extra head.

Mallory caught the
look and winced. “Shit,” she muttered, causing Harper to give her a questioning
look.

Harper stared at
the other woman’s growing agitation. She was hiding something. “What is it?”
Harper demanded as Mallory tried to back pedal.

“N…nothing,”
Mallory said and shrugged, her best efforts to look casual going quickly awry.

“Out with it,”
Harper pressed, feeling annoyed about being kept in the dark about something
that obviously affected her. Harper frowned at the other woman, and Mallory
began to crack under the pressure.

“It isn’t my place
to tell you—I’d probably just screw it up...”

“Fine,” Harper
snapped, turning her back on the other woman and making her way to the door,
intent on leaving.

“You’re a witch!” the
other woman yelled out, and Harper spun around, her face darkening. How had
they resorted to name calling so quickly?

“Excuse me?”
Harper demanded, planting her hands on her hips. “What did you just call me?”

The other woman
stepped back at the look of fury on her face. “A witch,” Mallory repeated,
obviously miserable.

“I don’t think the
situation had to resort to name calling,” Harper pointed out, and her eyes
narrowed to slits.

Confusion settled
across Mallory’s face for a moment before her eyebrows rose up into her hair.
“No!” she gasped, wringing her hands. “I would never…” Mallory stopped and
brushed a red curl off of her damp forehead. The greenhouse was the hottest
place in the whole shop, and this confrontation was only making it worse!

“You have special
powers, you can cast spells. I meant you’re a witch like magic—never as an
insult!” Mallory said in a rush.

Harper froze, her
mind reeling. This woman was crazy. She felt a sharp stab of disappointment,
and all the fight went out of her. She’d come to like Mallory quite a bit in
the last hour they’d known each other. It was a shame.

“Just never mind,”
Harper said quietly as she turned and fled the building. Mallory didn’t even
try to stop her—the poor woman was too mortified over what she’d just done.
Keaton, and the rest of the council, was going to have her head for this! New
paranormal creatures needed to be slowly and carefully introduced to the
magical world, and she’d really bungled things. With a sigh of despair, Mallory
pulled her phone from her pocket and began to dial.

“Keaton, it’s
Mallory—we have a problem…”

Harper raced home,
ducking down the first alleyway she came across and taking the long way back.
She didn’t want to run into any more townspeople right now. They were nice, and
well-meaning, but they stared at her like she was the latest exhibit at the
local museum. They tried to bury her in an avalanche of pies and other baked
goods, and at least one of them could hug so tightly she probably needed a
spinal adjustment—it was too much! Harper felt like she was just one more hug
or pie away from having a major breakdown.

The hot Alabama
sun beat down on top of her unmercifully, and an unladylike sweat broke out
across her back as she finally emerged from an alley and jogged the last block
to the house. The house was waiting for her, the same as it had always looked,
and so was Mr. Bell. He was stretched out on the front porch swing, swinging
gently like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Miss. Jones,” he
said with a friendly smile as he looked up and saw her walking up the path
towards him. Harper paused, no more in the mood for company than she had been
twenty minutes ago, but it was too late now. It would be rude to run out on her
gran’s estate lawyer. Mr. Bell uncurled himself from the swing, making the wood
groan under his weight, and Harper barely suppressed a wince.

“Mr. Bell. Nice to
see you again,” Harper fibbed as she walked up the steps to meet him with a
handshake. Mr. Bell seemed to be studying her closely, and it had the effect of
making her feel like a bug under a microscope.

“Are you feeling
alright?” he asked out of the blue, and Harper nodded automatically.

“As well as can be
expected,” she told him as she reached up to pat at her hair. Did she really
look so bad that Mr. Bell thought she had taken ill?

“I am glad to hear
it,” he said, letting a smile crease his serious face. “It seems you had some
deliveries while you were out,” he continued, motioning to an array of
casseroles and baked goods that had been left on the front porch in her
absence.

Harper goggled at
everything as Mr. Bell reached down to pluck a cardboard box of donuts that
were obviously not homemade, from the pile. “These are from me,” he looked
awkwardly down at the slightly squished box and gave her a crooked smile. “I
don’t cook.”

Harper felt a real
smile tug at her lips. “They’re perfect,” she told him, “Thanks.” She took the
donuts under her arm, pretending she didn’t see the smear of jam that nearly
obscured the view into the box.

Mr. Bell nodded,
looking far less serious than the last time she’d met with him. “Oh…did you
happen to get a chance to look through that stack of stuff I sent home with
you?” Mr. Bell hesitated before asking casually, and Harper shook her head. She
had nearly forgotten all about it between the rogue possum last night, the
group of people this morning, and now the blow out at the apothecary…

“Sorry, no. I hope
it wasn’t time sensitive?” she asked, and Mr. Bell shook his head.

“I didn’t mean to
rush you—take your time—and just remember that it’s best to remain calm,” he
paused and gave her an assessing look. “I just want you to know that I am in
the loop about…everything, so please don’t hesitate to call if you have any
questions. I’m sure you will have many,” he said mysteriously as he shuffled
off the porch, leaving Harper’s curiosity sufficiently peaked.

Harper carried everything
in off the porch so it wouldn’t spoil before curiosity got the better of her,
and she lugged the bag out from underneath the kitchen table and sat down to
spread the contents out before her.

Her fingers fell
upon a heavy, sealed envelope made from stiff paper. Harper struggled to open
it until she accidentally gave herself a paper cut and a tiny bit of blood
spilled out to stain the envelope. On her second try, the envelope opened
easily beneath her fingers. Harper sucked on her finger to ease the sting as
her eyes skimmed the note. It was from Gran, and as she read her jaw went
slack.

My darling
Harper, I hope you will always know what a sweet and loving girl you are. I
will never forget our time together. Don’t be sad that I am gone, celebrate my
life and know that an ancient ritual is now being passed down to you. Death is
not the end, it is merely the beginning.

I probably
should have brought this up to you sometime during the last few years, so you
could have had time to reflect and train, but I was also thrust into this quite
unexpectedly and I truly believe that the shock makes the magic stronger.

Harper’s belly
began to flip uncomfortably once again at the mention of the word magic. It was
certainly getting tossed around a lot these days.

You were not
trained in the conventional way, but I know from experience that hard work and
determination are nature’s best teachers. Harper, pay attention because this is
very important. You are a witch.

Harper let out a
squeak and tossed the paper down. She didn’t believe it. That would be crazy,
but why was everyone else around her being so crazy? Gran was not the sort to
play tricks on people, especially not on Harper. Harper took a deep breath and
picked the paper up again.

You don’t
believe me. I didn’t believe my own Mother’s letter after she passed, so humor
me. Imagine me in your head and repeat these words. Synodus in lumine.

Harper stared at
the words and then glanced around feeling foolish. She had no interest in
repeating silly words, but it was a request from her dead gran. Harper looked
around one more time to make sure no more casserole-toting townsfolk had decided
to drop by unexpectedly.

Then she closed
her eyes and imagined her gran in her head. She had been a petite woman, much
smaller than Harper’s own 5’ 10” frame. Harper saw her in her mind’s eye, with
her thick white hair curling wildly and the happy grin she always wore.
“Synodus in Lumine,” Harper said out loud, stuttering a bit over the foreign
words. As soon as the words left Harper’s tongue, an electrical jolt ripped
through her body, pulling a scream from her lips.

Her entire body
hummed like currents were coursing through every nerve she had, making her feel
jittery and weak, and her heart sped up to race loudly, pounding in her ears
until it was the only sound she could hear. Harper collapsed out of her chair
and hit the floor hard, her limbs unwilling to keep her from smacking her face.
The ring on her finger began to glow, and a thin strand of light suddenly shot
out of it. All Harper could do was watch in horror, unable to move as the light
hit the ceiling and bounced back to pierce Harper’s chest.

Harper gasped and
writhed. The light felt like a laser, pumping heat through her body until
finally, after what felt like an hour, but had really only been a few seconds,
the light turned from bright orange to blue and Harper felt a soothing cool wave
descend over her body. The humming stopped and her limbs began to twitch as her
motor skills were returned to her. The light stopped shooting from the ring,
and Harper scrambled to her feet, gasping and sobbing as she ran from the room.
She went into the living room but felt it wasn’t enough, so she ran outside
into the front yard and stood there gasping and looking around. A few people
walked along the sidewalk and looked at her curiously, but Harper didn’t care
anymore.

She stared at the
devil ring that was still smoking lightly on her finger. After a moment’s
hesitation, she worked up the courage to try and pry it off. The ring wouldn’t
budge, and the more she pulled at it, the tighter it seemed to get. Harper let
out a scream of frustration as she stared at her own finger in anger and
betrayal. The garden shed caught her attention and she ran over to it and threw
the door open, spilling everything as she fumbled for a tool she could use to
get rid of the ring. Her eyes landed on a welder with a torch cutter sitting in
the corner, but she dismissed it—too risky.