Page 17

Seventeen

ELSPETH

T he sun shone down on the Thistlegrove market, carts and stands lining a long dirt road that stretched between Thistlegrove Forest and the town. Enchanted Pages was far behind us, and I still needed to visit. It was all Prue talked about. She was spending nearly every day there, and apparently the owner was okay with it, even if she wasn’t buying books.

If we sold enough soup, we were going to put away some money for our cart repairs and use the other part of our earnings for seeds for our garden. We’d need to start growing our own vegetables in order to have enough soup combinations. Luckily, there was a greenhouse on the other side of the river, and I’d heard the owner, Greta, had excellent winter-resistant seeds that could grow plants in the harshest of conditions.

Witches began appearing from the forest on their way to town. Scents from the soap cart next to us tickled my nose: rose, lavender, and lemon wafted through the air. The soaps sat in neat rows with bright colors that drew the eye. Adelaide was looking longingly at them as Mama stirred the cauldron.

Prue and Auggie had stayed back at the cottage to continue foraging for more soup ingredients and to clean—much to Auggie’s dismay. She’d spent all morning complaining about how she wanted to help run the stand, but I wanted a chance to speak with Adelaide. I had a feeling she’d been avoiding me, and I worried she was already resenting me, even if she didn’t realize it.

A dilapidated green building sat on the other side of the road. Grime and dirt covered the sides of it, and holes and exposed wood peeked out. The front columns that held up a second-level balcony bowed in, looking like they might collapse any day now.

“What is that?” I pointed.

“Oh, it’s the Gathering Hall.” Adelaide tucked her blonde hair behind her ear. “Apparently it used to be the place everyone went for town meetings, festivals, weddings, and community gatherings.”

“What happened?” My brows furrowed.

Adelaide shrugged. “There’s not much sense of community here anymore, from what I’ve gathered. Not since Witch Superior started doling out harsher laws. It scared people, made them keep to themselves more, become less trusting. So the Gathering Hall has become obsolete.”

The thought made me sad. My gaze lingered on the building as an older man hobbled up to us, his wand elongated into a cane that he used to help him walk. It was a clever spell.

He sniffed the air and turned his beady gaze on us, his chin jutting out. “What’s this, then?” He pointed his cane at our stand.

“Soup,” I said brightly. “Wild mushroom and potato.”

“Don’t know about that.” He shook his head. “Soup. So simple. Could make it at home. Witches’ll try and sell anything these days.”

Adelaide and I looked at each other while Mama whirled around, wand pointed at the man.

The man’s eyes widened. “Are you threatening me?” he asked.

“No.” I laughed as I put a hand on Mama’s arm to make her lower it. “Not at all. Mama is just inviting you to have a taste.”

The man grunted in response, but he didn’t say no. I nodded at Mama, and she ladled some soup into a small cup. We’d decided on two sizes: a cup or a bowl, depending on how hungry the customers were. We’d also found some flour in the cabinets and baked bread to go along with it. Well, Adelaide baked the bread .

The man accepted the cup and spoon and took a sip. He grunted again.

“You can just return the cup and spoon when you’re done.” I gestured to the empty basket meant for dirty dishes.

His eyes shifted back and forth, then he shook his head and reached into his pocket, pulling out a few gold coins and slamming them on the table. “Soup,” he muttered as he walked away, but I couldn’t help but notice he was eating it.

“Forgive old man Veldar,” a woman said as she approached.

Her shoulder-length black hair was slicked back, a waxiness to her alabaster skin. Fangs peeked out from the sides of her mouth.

A vampire.

I wondered what she was doing in the Witchlands. There were strict residency laws—only those with magic were allowed to reside here permanently. Those from other lands could visit and live here for short amounts of time if they had express permission from Witch Superior and the appropriate documents.

The vampire leaned forward, inhaling deeply. “Mushrooms.” She flashed her fangs. “My favorite.” She rubbed her belly, and I realized she was wearing a deep red tunic tucked into sleek leather-black trousers. A long black cape fluttered around her in the breeze.

Adelaide gulped.

The vampire looked at us expectantly. “I’d like a bowl.”

“Of course.” I nodded at Mama, who was staring with an open mouth at the vampire. We didn’t see many of them in the Witchlands, not after the centuries-old conflict that existed between our species. We weren’t at war anymore, but tension still hung thick between us. It was rumored that Witch Superior recently stormed out of what was supposed to be a peace meeting between the two realms.

Mama ladled some soup into a bowl and pushed it toward the vampire with her wand like she was afraid if she got too close, she’d get bitten.

“The name is Helena,” the vampire said, nodding at us. “And you haven’t made it in Thistlegrove until old man Veldar has berated you.”

I looked at the old man, who was still eating his soup—now in front of a stand full of rare ingredients needed for certain spells: eyeballs, toenails, rabbit’s feet, dragon talons, griffon teeth, and more. It looked like he was arguing with the owner about something.

“Well, that’s good to know,” I said as she took a sip, her eyes flicking down to me and Adelaide’s aprons. I cursed myself inwardly. We’d forgotten our wands today. I wondered if Helena noticed.

“Mm.” Her gaze snapped to Mama. “Now that’s just delicious.”

Mama smiled broadly, clearly being won over. “Well, thank you.” She sniffed. “But it’s my daughter’s recipe.” She tipped her head toward Adelaide.

“My compliments to the chef,” Helena said, her gaze searching for something.

My pulse spiked, and I reminded myself to be calm. It was ridiculous to think Helena would notice something as simple as our missing wands. She wasn’t even a witch.

“So Helena, what brings a vampire to the Witchlands?” Adelaide asked.

I shot her a look. It was nice to have paying customers, but if we asked too many questions, others were likely to ask questions of us. Something I wanted to avoid.

Helena waved her hand as she took another sip. “This flavor is just phenomenal.” She looked up, her red eyes flashing. “The earthiness of the mushrooms, the tanginess of the broth, the texture of the potatoes. It goes together beautifully.”

Mama smiled brightly, now fully won over by the vampire.

“To answer your question, I’m a talent manager.”

“A what?” I asked. I’d never heard of such a thing.

“Oh, I seek out talent among all the realms and recruit the finest artists, performers, bards, singers—if you’ve heard of them, I probably manage them.” She flashed a menacing smile.

Mama gasped. “Do you know Riven Shiu? I heard he hails from this very village.”

“Indeed. He’s a client at my agency. One of my associates just got him a huge contract to tour the human kingdoms.”

Wow. Riven was a famous bard, well-known for his riveting ballads about famous witches, wars, and adventurers.

I leaned over, resting my elbows on the counter as Helena ate another bite. “He got a contract in the human lands? ”

Adelaide stepped up next to me. “They actually allowed that?”

Witches weren’t exactly welcome in the other realms. It wasn’t illegal for us to travel to them, but horror stories often floated over the border about witches who’d disappeared after leaving the Witchlands. Everyone was suspicious of our magic, worried we’d use it against them. Of course that didn’t stop some of the most powerful leaders from recruiting witches to do magic for them. But that was risky in and of itself. One wrong move and a witch could be burned at the stake or drowned. It was another reason I was so afraid we’d be found out and forced to leave the Witchlands. I’d often stay up late, tossing and turning, visions of all of us burning at the stake as the magistrates threw hellfire at us flashing through my mind.

“Oh, Witch Superior,” Mama said. “Can you introduce us?”

Helena gave her a sympathetic smile. “Well, he’s on tour for the next year. But if he makes a surprise visit, you’ll be the first to know.”

Mama squealed and clapped her hands. “Wait until I tell Auggie.”

“Auggie?” Helena asked with a questioning look.

“One of my other daughters. She’s such a big fan.”

“So that’s what you’re doing in Thistlegrove?” I asked. “Looking for talent?”

“You never know where it’s going to come from.” She winked as she finished her last bite. “This was delicious. I’ll be sure to stop by again. You should really get some stools so people can sit and enjoy the soup—and the conversation.”

That was exactly what I wanted to avoid. No getting close to anyone. No making friends. I just wanted to sell our soup and find a way to fix our cart so we could leave this place behind. Helena dropped a few gold coins on the counter and waved goodbye.

“We sure have met some interesting characters this morning.” Mama turned back to the cauldron and stirred it. Gold sparks jumped from her wand, infusing the soup with her magic that brought all the flavors together.

Far down the road, I spotted Draven, Elm, and that girl from the tavern walking, an orange-colored miniature dragon flying next to them. I remembered seeing that creature sleeping on the bar top when I’d visited Draven’s tavern. I couldn’t imagine him owning a pet. He wasn’t capable of loving anything but himself .

Adelaide stared longingly at Elm as someone else approached our stand, asking for a cup of soup.

I nudged Adelaide. “Have you talked to Elm recently? Any outings planned?”

“No,” Adelaide said. “He visited yesterday and invited me to dine at The Brewhouse, but I declined. I don’t think he’ll be inviting me out again.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. “Why would you do that? I thought you liked him?”

She gave me an exasperated look. “You hate his best friend. Every time you’re in the same vicinity, you get into an argument... and somehow end up with him on top of you.”

I threw out my arms. “We’ve only been in the same vicinity thrice.”

Mama shushed us as she sold soup to yet another customer.

“And each time, you’ve ended up practically brawling,” Adelaide said. “It draws too much attention to us, and like you said, I barely know Elm, so I’m just going to distance myself.”

Guilt bubbled like our cauldron full of soup. I was the cause of this. Adelaide had been so happy the first few days we’d been here, and it was like someone had stolen her light. I stole her light. I was the thief, and I needed to return what I’d taken.

My hands twisted together as I watched Draven and Elm far in the distance. I had an idea. One that was either brilliant or would end in complete disaster.