Page 9 of A Witch’s Guide to Love and Poison

9

A fter lacing up her boots, Bisma grabbed a black shawl and hurried down the spiraling steps of the tree trunk, all the way down to the very bottom, where Luna was waiting with Deeba.

The two-year-old wore a knitted white bonnet, her adorable chubby cheeks sticking out. It had stopped raining, but the air was still cold.

‘Are you ready?’ Bisma asked Deeba, scooping her up and kissing her.

Deeba laughed. ‘Yes, yes!’ she cooed.

Bisma set her down so she could pick up her basket of poisons, as well as another empty basket for their shopping.

‘Ready?’ she asked Luna, who wore a pale yellow dress. Her honey-brown hair was pulled back into two braids fastened with pink ribbons to match the embroidery on her dress.

Luna released a long sigh. ‘I have been ready!’

They began walking, Deeba between them, and Bisma smirked. ‘Someone is impatient to get to town,’ she sang.

Luna held up a hand. ‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’

Both girls exchanged a smile, then began chatting as Luna recited various poems from the poetry book she was reading, highlighting her favorite lines and dissecting what the metaphors meant. They passed by a brook, where toads were happily croaking.

A little while later, they passed rabbits munching peacefully on grass, until Deeba tried to reach out and grab them. They hastily hopped away, while Deeba laughed, looking back at Bisma and Luna. ‘Them run!’ Deeba said, clearly proud of herself.

‘Yes, they run!’ Luna said, smiling at the two-year-old.

The trio continued walking, and along the way Bisma plucked an apple from one of the apple trees, tossing it to Luna before plucking another for herself. It was red and ripe; when Bisma bit into it, sweet juice poured into her mouth along the crisp fruit.

The fruit in the Enchanted Forest was always perfect, a magical marvel. Often, fruits and vegetables could even be found growing outside their ordinary season. It would turn a huge profit if the Unwanted Girls wished to harvest and sell them in town, but the Forest fruits could only be enjoyed within the bounds of the Forest. Once the fruit or vegetables left the Forest, they rotted.

Something Bisma was sorely wishing wasn’t true at the moment; she still had to pay Xander for curing Mei. It had been nearly a week and she’d avoided going to town as she figured out how to gather the necessary funds.

At least orders had come in, and she’d spent the better part of the week completing them, and now she could drop them off and collect payment.

When they made it to Old Town, Luna instantly brightened. She smoothed her braids, checking the bows at the ends, then said, ‘Let’s go to the bakery, first.’

Bisma bit back a smile. ‘Sure.’

The town was busier than usual as they walked toward the square, and Bisma carried Deeba to make sure she didn’t get lost. Luna skipped ahead, and as they approached the bakery, Bisma inhaled the comforting scent of fresh bread.

They walked in; it wasn’t very busy, and right away, Bisma spotted Haru behind the counter, wearing his usual apron. He was filling pastries with custard, but when he saw them, he immediately stopped, his face lighting up with a smile.

‘There’s the prettiest girl in town,’ he said.

Before Luna could respond to the compliment, Bisma arched a brow. ‘I do hope you’re talking about Deeba,’ she said.

‘Baji!’ Luna hissed, mortified.

There was no one around, so Bisma laughed as Haru’s cheeks turned red.

‘Yes, of course,’ Haru sputtered, pinching Deeba’s cheek. He cleared his throat. ‘What can I get for you? The usual? I’ve just finished baking a fresh loaf of pumpkin bread, Lu.’

Lu? Bisma thought to herself.

Luna looked equally surprised by the affectionate nickname and doubly pleased.

‘Oh, that sounds divine !’ she squealed. She approached the counter, setting her elbows upon them to lean her face on her chin. Haru leaned forward across the counter as well, beaming at her.

There was a streak of sugar on his cheek, and Luna reached across to wipe it away, hand lingering.

Oh good god …

Bisma cleared her throat. She could not say she was enjoying witnessing her younger sister flirt with her crush. ‘I’m going to go,’ she said, approaching the counter. She deposited Deeba between Haru and Luna on the counter, and Deeba clapped her chubby hands in excitement when he picked her up.

Bisma gave Luna a sisterly warning glance, which only earned her a roll of Luna’s eyes in response, but Bisma wasn’t worried. Haru was genuine, and Luna wasn’t stupid; she would be alright.

‘Watch Deebs,’ Bisma ordered. Luna hardly spared Bisma a glance; she was busy gazing at Haru. Deeba was currently snuggled against his chest, holding tight to his shirt with her little fists.

‘Don’t worry, we will,’ Haru said, giving Bisma a winning smile. Even her cold, shriveled heart warmed at that.

‘And make sure you go to the butcher’s,’ Bisma reminded Luna. ‘You have the money I gave you, don’t you?’

They got meat from the butcher in town because none of the girls wanted to slaughter their own animals; the younger ones would be traumatized if their best friends (the goats and chickens) were being butchered every week.

‘Yes, yes, I have it,’ Luna said, waving a hand absentmindedly. Clearly she was too preoccupied with batting her lashes at Haru to give Bisma any attention.

‘I’m about to go on my break so I can help,’ Haru offered, eyes kind.

‘By all means,’ Bisma said, taking her leave.

The poisons were in a basket on the crook of her arm, hidden beneath a plaid cloth. Even though Bisma herself was infamous, she hid the poisons for the sake of those buying them; they could not be seen doing business with her. Which was why, as the sun moved across the sky, she went to various previously agreed upon locations outside the square, finding gaps between rocks or hidden alcoves where money lay waiting for her. Each client had their own distinct drop spot.

After Bisma finished her deliveries and collected her money, she went to the final secret stop, which was for new customers to leave order requests; they either left the requests here or at the edge of the Enchanted Forest. This location on the outskirts of the town square could only be learned by word of mouth.

Thankfully, when she arrived, she saw a handful of new orders. She would need them.

Most of these would go to paying Xander, and she’d already given a chunk of money to Luna for the butcher, not to mention that Bisma still had errands to run: Azalea wanted new yarn to knit Deeba a sweater, Nori wanted paint, and Mei had sent an entire grocery list of ingredients.

While they grew most of their fruit, vegetables, and herbs in the Forest, some seasonings and ingredients could only be acquired from town. So, with a deep breath, Bisma headed back to the town square.

Now that it was late afternoon, many people were done with their work for the day and were getting their shopping done before heading home for the evening. More than once, Bisma had to push her way through a crowd, and there was quite a large line at the cheese stall, which she would have avoided entirely because of its strong smells had Mei not made a specific request.

Bisma wondered how long Old Town could last like this. It had been getting increasingly crowded over the past year and did not look to be slowing down any time soon. But she was glad for the busyness as it meant there was less focus on her. She could slither in and out without being noticed.

Or so she thought.

After Bisma had bought the paint for Nori and was exiting the art shop, she saw something hurtling toward her from the corner of her eye. She moved aside at the last moment, but rotten fruit splashed across her shoes and legs.

Heart hammering, she looked up to find an older man glaring at her. She did not know him, but he shook his head with disdain, muttering, ‘Filthy Unwanted Witch.’

An acidic feeling spread through her, equal parts fear and rage. She should have just moved on, but the rage took over. Instead, she hissed at him, baring her teeth.

Anger flared across his face, and he approached, spitting at her just as she felt an arm pull her back.

Bisma turned. It was Razan Al-Mansour, the bookshop owner. She was a kind, middle-aged woman with dense black curls and olive-colored skin.

‘That’s enough now!’ Razan snapped at the old man. ‘Be on your way.’

He huffed and puffed, but waved a hand, leaving them.

Bisma released a long breath, her heart still pounding. Shame ran through her for needing Razan’s help; she needed to defend herself, not rely on others.

‘Thank you,’ she managed to say.

‘Don’t mention it,’ Razan replied. She released a breath, then smiled. ‘Is Luna enjoying the latest poetry book, then? It’s all the rage in Whitebridge; apparently the author even came from Castletown to do a signing.’

‘Oh, don’t mention that to Luna, or she’ll have us all traveling for the author’s next visit,’ Bisma said with a roll of her eyes, feeling calmed by the change in topic. ‘Which is to say she is enjoying it quite a bit … perhaps too much.’

Razan arched a curious brow.

‘She insists upon reading passages aloud to us,’ Bisma explained. ‘Azalea is just about at her wits’ end.’

Razan laughed, dimples appearing in her cheeks. ‘Oh yes, some passages are definitely not to be read aloud … at least, not to one’s sister.’

They both shared a smile. Not all people in Old Town were terrible. Throughout the years, Bisma and the other Unwanted Girls had made some friends.

Bisma went on to buy the yarn, depositing her purchase into her basket. That was the last of the errands, she realized with annoyance. Which meant the only thing left to do was pay Xander.

With a sigh, she turned toward the Chapman Apothecary. As if summoned by her thoughts, Xander stepped outside the door just then. He immediately spotted her across the square, despite how rushed it was, and a smile lit up his face.

He began walking toward her, his hair falling into place perfectly even as he took long strides in her direction. He wore a silver-gray waistcoat that matched the cloud-filled sky, and the color made his hair a deep mahogany-copper. His eyes shone like emeralds in his pale face as he came to stand before her.

‘Well met, Bis,’ he said, giving her that dazzling smile of his, as if she had never been vicious to him when they last spoke.

She was taken aback for a moment, confused. She had expected him to be standoffish at least, after he had done so much to help her and she had been so cruel in response, but it seemed no matter how hard she snapped, he would not be deterred.

On the contrary, he appeared to be … happy to see her. Setting her jaw, Bisma threw a bag of coins at him. He caught it easily with one hand, his elegant fingers closing over the bag.

He looked as though he was going to say something, then thought better of it. ‘Thank you,’ he said, not even looking at the contents. He simply accepted it. Her eye twitched. But why wouldn’t he? What care did he have about her hard-earned money?

‘How are you doing?’ he asked, that velvet smooth voice of his sending a shiver down her spine.

‘I have orders to complete, so I’m much too busy to be wasting my time here with you,’ she replied, lifting her nose up at him.

This was a lie, of course, but she was annoyed by his constant sunny disposition, and the only way to fight against it was to be dark as midnight rain.

‘Is that so?’ he asked, eyes sparking. ‘Are you trying to rub in my face, how lucrative your business is?’

As two of the few garden-witches in Old Town, it was always a competition between them.

‘If that’s how you see it,’ she said, tone haughty.

‘Well, if you must know, I have my own business to conduct, as well,’ he replied.

She scoffed. ‘You mean your mother’s business.’

The Chapman Apothecary was run by his mother, Eleanora, and before her had been run by his grandfather, who had passed away a few years ago.

At this remark, color entered Xander’s cheeks, which gave her a jolt of satisfaction. She bit back a smile.

‘I have my own private clients as well,’ he said, giving her a pointed look.

Then it was her turn to feel heat rush to her face. Unfortunately, she would not be deterred.

‘Right,’ she said, drawing the word out, as if she did not believe him. ‘Like who?’

‘My clients prefer discretion, same as yours,’ he said, mimicking her haughty tone.

She arched her brow. ‘What do you need private clients for when you have your family business?’

‘You said it yourself,’ he replied, stepping closer. ‘That’s my mother’s business, not mine.’ He lifted and dropped a shoulder nonchalantly. ‘Private clientele worked out for you—thought I’d try my hand at it as well. Give you a run for your money.’

‘Ah, so it’s about me, is it?’

He smiled, reaching a hand out to pluck a stray white flower from her hair; it must have come undone from the string of motia entwined in her braid. He twirled it between his fingers before looking back up at her.

‘Darling Bisma, you are my greatest nemesis, my sweetest rival. Isn’t everything about you?’

She ignored the way her heart skipped a beat at that. He was an incorrigible flirt. That didn’t mean she had to lose her head.

Instead, she cocked her head, saying, ‘While it makes sense for people to require discretion when it comes to purchasing poisons, why would they require such discretion to purchase your curing potions?’

‘Maybe I’ll explain it to you sometime,’ he said, eyes glittering. ‘Perhaps over dinner?’

That nearly made her laugh out loud. ‘I’d rather drink my own poisons, thank you kindly.’

‘If only to give me the chance to heal you?’

She mimicked barfing. He laughed, an open-mouthed, rich laugh that passed through her like the first delicious chill of autumn after a scorched summer.

‘You’ll change your mind someday, Bis,’ he said, stepping closer.

She narrowed her eyes, taking a step forward as well.

‘Don’t hold your breath.’ She paused, considering it for a moment before amending her previous statement. ‘Actually, please do.’ She smiled sweetly.

His only response was to grin, eyes lidded as he looked down at her. She felt a strange warmth unfurl in her chest.

‘Did you find out what caused Mei to get sick?’ Xander asked, changing the topic and only causing the warmth to unfurl further.

‘It looked to be poisoning,’ Bisma replied. ‘But now I’m not sure; I haven’t been able to track the source.’

‘But by whom?’ he asked, genuinely confused.

Forest, he really was thick in the head sometimes.

She gestured to the town square. ‘Take your pick.’

For some reason, Bisma did not feel compelled to mention the old man who had just thrown rotten fruit and spit at her. She had an uncanny feeling Xander would react badly to that news, and she did not need his emotions on top of her own.

‘Everyone hates us,’ she simply said.

‘Not everyone,’ he said, his voice soft but firm. He stepped closer, close enough that she had to look up to meet his eyes, and as she did, her breath lodged in her throat.

She clenched her jaw, internally chastising herself. He really was insufferably handsome.

Without another word, she turned and took her leave, but not before a blush had already crept to her cheeks. She suspected he had noticed, for she heard his gentle laugh as she stalked away, but she refused to waste a moment thinking of it.

Bisma went back to the bakery, where Deeba was on the counter sucking on a pretzel stick and Luna was deep in discussion with Haru. In the background, Haru’s mother and father looked to be quite frazzled as they dealt with the rush of customers.

‘ Haru! ’ his father called, but he did not notice.

With an exasperated sigh and glare at his son, Haru’s father packaged another loaf of bread and handed it to a customer, then was immediately besieged by another.

Bisma came up beside Luna, who was just as oblivious to anything outside the little bubble she and Haru had created. Bisma aggressively cleared her throat.

‘Oh, you’re back!’ Luna said, turning to her. Luna was grinning, face cheery, but when she spotted Bisma’s expression, she furrowed her brows. ‘What happened? Are you angry?’

‘No. What do you mean?’

‘Your face is pink.’

Bisma scowled. ‘So is yours.’ She gave a pointed look in Haru’s direction, and he consequently looked away.

Luna made an outraged sound, giving Bisma an oh-my-god-you-are-so-embarrassing look quintessential for a fifteen-year-old.

‘Let’s go,’ Bisma said, carrying her baskets under one elbow, so she could hold Deeba with the other.

‘Bajiiii,’ Deeba cooed, latching onto Bisma’s side. Her little fingers played with the end of one of Bisma’s gold baliyan as they made their exit.

Luna waved to Haru, then skipped out behind Bisma.

As they made their way through the square, Luna giggled, her baskets swaying. She was happy and carefree, and Bisma didn’t have the heart to tell her to act unhappy. Instead, Bisma glared at anyone who so much as glanced at the girls.

Luckily, Bisma was scary enough for all three of them.