Page 5

Five

ELSPETH

T wo hours later, Elm managed to pull our mangled cart into town and to the woodsmith’s shop. The older man circled our cart for what felt like an eternity, making noncommittal noises that only made me more anxious.

Adelaide and Elm stood outside his thatched-roof shop, both speaking in low tones. Auggie stood by Elm, clutching on to his arm. Prue had found a bench nearby, a book in hand.

“Elspeth, quit biting your nails,” Mama scolded. And Mama was watching me, apparently. “People are staring.”

She looked over her shoulder, and my gaze followed hers to the winding dirt road filled with carts and businesses, witches darting in and out with their wares. And many of them were staring directly at us.

“They’re not staring because I’m biting my nails,” I said in a low voice.

Thistlegrove was clearly a small town.

Mama grabbed my hand and pushed it down, smiling and nodding at the people passing by the woodsmith’s shop, who were peering at us a little too closely.

“Oh, stop being so paranoid.” Mama wiggled her fingers at a few passersby, and they averted their eyes and hurried along. She nudged me. “I thought Elm had taken a liking to Auggie, but he doesn’t have eyes for anyone but Adelaide. Don’t they just look adorable together?”

I snorted. “They barely know each other. We just met him hours ago.”

“Oh, Elspeth.” Mama tsked. “Have you never heard of love at first sight?”

I gaped at my mama. “That is not what’s happening. Everyone falls in love with Adelaide at first sight.”

How could they not? My older sister was gorgeous, and she didn’t even realize it, which only made her more alluring with her soft-spoken nature, her kindness, how she went out of her way to please everyone, often neglecting her own feelings in the process.

“Now you’re biting your bottom lip,” Mama said. “Honestly, Elspeth, can you stop worrying? We’re in a beautiful town.” She spread her arms and gestured to the quaint buildings with moss on their roofs, the cute little road, the green forest in the distance, and the sound of a rushing river. “Elm has offered to set us up with somewhere to live. We’re very fortunate, you know.”

That was the other thing. Where was Elm planning on us staying? Would he pay for our rooms at the local inn? I shifted from foot to foot at the thought. He’d also likely be staying at the inn, giving him access to us at all times. Plus, inns in small towns like these were busy places. There were always travelers stopping for a night or two, which was why we chose to camp on the outskirts of towns. It was safer. Less exposure to so many people.

“We’re not taking his charity,” I said firmly. “We’ve spent years camping, and we can continue to do so.”

Mama stuck out her bottom lip. “You are such a killjoy, you know that? I’m tired of sleeping outdoors, roughing it all the time. Oh, my back. My poor joints.” She stretched dramatically. “When are you girls going to take care of me for a change?”

I crossed my arms. We were hardly roughing it. We’d invested in quite a few spelled items that made it almost the same as sleeping indoors somewhere. Bedrolls that stayed warm or cool depending on the weather. A tent that protected us from all kinds of weather elements. Wood that always burned. It had served us well and saved us money in the long run since those valuable items meant we could stay on the outer edges of town, out of sight and safe.

Prue ran up to us, out of breath, her spectacles slipping down her nose and her curly brown hair flying in all directions.

My heart rate spiked. “Prue, what’s wrong?”

I grabbed her arms, looking her over for any signs she’d been hurt.

“Well, spit it out, Prue.” Mama tapped her foot. “What’s going on?”

“The bookstore is just down the road!” Prue burst out, speaking so fast I had a hard time understanding her.

She pointed to the little building, and I squinted at the wooden post standing in front of it. “Enchanted Pages,” the sign read.

“Two people passed by the bench I was sitting on, and one of them was talking about wanting a new book, and the other one said, ‘Well, why don’t we go now? It’s just down the road.’” She grabbed my hands. “Can I go? I can make an account and get myself a few books while we’re here.” She held up her current book, a dark blue cover with gold lettering. “I’ve been dying to read the sequel to this one.”

“Of course you can, dear,” Mama said, and I shot her a look.

“Maybe we should wait until we get the prognosis for the cart?—”

“Oh, nonsense.” Mama smiled at Prue and handed her a fistful of gold coins. “You go and get yourself a few books.”

Prue squealed, a sound I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard her make.

She threw her arms around us, the book in her hand slamming into the back of my head. “Oh, thank you, thank you. I’ll be back in an hour.” She paused. “Maybe a few.” She squealed again and rushed off down the winding road, lined with businesses on either side.

“Was that smart?” I asked. “We don’t need to draw more attention to ourselves than we already have, and we don’t exactly have the money to buy new books.”

The eyes of the townspeople weighed heavily on me.

“It’s a bookstore.” Exasperation filled Mama’s voice. “I hardly think a few books are going to bankrupt us or bring the magistrates down upon us.”

Just the name sent shivers down my spine. Magistrates. Powerful witches who worked for Witch Superior and hunted individuals accused of breaking the sacred witch laws. Some of them were even spies, disguised as herbalists or teachers or bakers so they could better infiltrate towns, learn everyone’s secrets, and take those secrets back to Witch Superior. It had created a culture of fear, one where people didn’t trust each other.

I rubbed my temples. Maybe Mama was right. Besides, I hadn’t seen Prue so animated in a long time. If a few books would bring her happiness, then I shouldn’t stand in the way of that.

“Well, I have good news and bad news.” The woodsmith approached, his gray hair peppered with specks of black, his hands stained with black as well. He rubbed his clean-shaven jaw, staining his chin with more of the black substance. I wasn’t sure what it was, maybe some kind of magic he used when doing his woodwork.

I stiffened. “What’s the bad news?”

“Your cart has a deep crack in the bottom, straight down the middle. It’s a wonder the whole thing hasn’t collapsed. As you know, with the cart broken, so is whatever magic it was spelled with.”

My chest tightened. This was the worst-case scenario. Adelaide, Elm, and Auggie drifted over, walking under the thatched roof to hear what the woodsmith had to say.

“So what’s the good news?” Adelaide asked.

“What’s that?” The woodsmith put a finger behind his ear, leaning forward.

“The good news?” Adelaide said more loudly.

“Ah.” He clapped his hands together, glittery black magic poofing up into the air from the force. “Well, you’re going to have an extended stay in the lovely town of Thistlegrove.”

My heart dropped straight to the ground. “Define extended.”

He scratched the back of his head. “It’s going to take at least a month to fix this, if not longer. I’ve got a lot of spells but none quite like what’s needed to fix that deep crack.” He pointed to his grimoire perched on a wooden table, his wand lying next to it. “It’s going to take some trial and error. Then, of course, there’s re-spelling the cart to move on its own. That’s quite complicated magic.”

I squeezed my eyes shut as my heart beat harder. A month. An entire month.

“I have two rooms at the inn reserved,” Elm said. “I come so often that I have rooms booked for myself and my father. I can stay at my friend’s place. He has plenty of space. And my father won’t be visiting this month. It’s really no trouble.”

His voice was distant, his words burrowing into my anxiety, making it fester like an open wound. Suddenly it was hard to breathe.

“No,” I heard myself say. “We can camp. We’ll camp outside of town.”

“Don’t be silly,” Mama said.

“Elspeth, are you okay?” I felt Adelaide’s hand on my arm.

“She looks wretched,” Auggie said.

My lungs squeezed tight, trapping any air. I clutched my chest as my gaze focused on all the witches staring at us. They were suspicious. They knew our secret. It would only be a matter of time before someone called the magistrates. Just like before.

“Elspeth,” Adelaide said again.

I stumbled away from everyone. “I need a drink.”

“I think you need more than a drink. You need to be sedated. And you also need a bath.” Auggie wrinkled her nose, looking at my mud-speckled dress.

“I know just the place,” Elm said. “It’s called The Brewhouse. It’s right down the road. I can take you.” He looked at Adelaide. “And if you’re interested, you could join us?”

“Perfect!” Mama clapped her hands together. “You three go, and Auggie and I will stay with the woodsmith and talk more about the repairs needed.”

Auggie crossed her arms, scowling. “But I want to go,” she whined.

Mama put her arm around Auggie, drawing her in. “I need you here with me, dear. Go on now. You three have fun.”

I didn’t move, so Adelaide took my arm, gently pulling me forward onto the dirt road, my heart still racing.

“It’ll be okay,” Adelaide whispered. “We’ll figure this out. We always do.”

She was wrong. We didn’t figure out anything. I always handled the problems that came our way, and for the first time in my life, I was out of solutions.