Page 32 of The Hearth Witch’s Guide to Magic & Murder (The Hemlock Saga #1)
Saga blinked, staring at the wall that somehow simultaneously looked like fabric, but also the doorway and beige drywall it had previously been.
She examined the first office, which waved a little like a flag in response to the wall next to it being lifted but was otherwise undisturbed.
She reached a hand through the open doorway, expecting it to collide against the fabric, but instead, it went through into the office as normal.
Her eyes widened and she turned to Avery, who did not attempt to hide her amusement at her companion’s expense.
“Magic,” said Avery.
“Uh-huh,” was the only response Saga could manage. She stepped through the opening in the curtain into pitch-black darkness, and then into what felt like another curtain. Velvet, heavy, large. Her hands fumbled over it but found no opening and thus she became a little more frantic.
Two hands caught her own from behind. Warm, gentle, safe.
She could feel Avery standing at her back and a strange thrill from her abdomen to her sternum caught her by surprise.
She swallowed, her throat feeling too dry and her face too warm.
Her hand was guided out, fingers layering over her own as if they might meld together, and brushed over the velvet surface slowly, searchingly.
Their fingers caught the hem, and as they pulled it back together, it revealed a single wooden door inset with a window.
Firelight shone through the stained glass, and Saga followed the way the colors flickered along the curtain, her gaze stopping on their hands.
She’d been able to feel the way their fingers had intertwined, but seeing it was something else entirely.
She chided herself internally. This was not the time to get a crush.
This was not the person to have a crush on.
“Something wrong?”
Saga turned to her companion and stopped. Avery was…luminescent. The same light was dancing across her features as if toying with what exactly it wanted to highlight and draw attention to. “You’re stunning.”
Avery was as surprised by these words as Saga. Initial shock melted into a gentle smile. “Thank you.” It was spoken so quietly that were there any other noise in the space, she never would have been able to hear it. Avery cleared her throat and simply nodded to the door.
It didn’t need to be awkward. Saga was giving a friend a compliment. She was remarking on a fact, that’s all. Avery was stunning, she’d thought it when she first saw her. It would be ridiculous if no one ever did tell her such things. Her hand gripped the doorknob, turned, and pulled.
Warmth washed over her. All worries of awkward social interaction melted into oblivion as the scent of apple cider filled her senses. Cinnamon, nutmeg, clove… The scents wafted through the air like a breeze, accompanied by the faintest hint of pine.
Directly in front of her, in the center of a vast dark wood room, was a great golden oak tree.
The branches stretched high above them, extending outward in all directions, with soft glowing lights scattered throughout the leaves.
Surrounding the tree trunk was a great circular counter, behind which baristas worked their craft, pulling levers on great copper contraptions.
From her current vantage point, she could see the bar was partitioned off into at least two sections.
As she examined how the tree branches extended nearly to the edges of the room, she noticed it brought the partition with it, as the branches to her left were covered in frost, and the leaves to the right had turned shades of orange, red, and yellow.
As if she were standing directly between winter and autumn.
Even the windows lining opposite walls reflected either season, one displaying a serene snowy mountain range and evergreens while the other depicted an amber forest in the middle of an October shower.
If she fixed her gaze beyond the branches, in place of a ceiling, the Milky Way danced across the night sky.
Patrons of this establishment were also a sight to behold, scattered throughout on plush couches and chairs and at heavy carved tables.
It was obvious there was no risk of discovery here, as many fey had forgone any shape-shifting at all.
A minotaur daintily drank an espresso while reading a book next to the roaring fire in the winter section.
Three pixie-like fey chittered around a small table over tea in autumn, giving secretive looks toward one of the baristas.
Saga took a few steps inward, overwhelmed and overjoyed by every sight she took in. She glanced back to Avery, only to see that the wall they had emerged from was in fact a giant bookshelf.
Avery strode beside her, and gently drew a finger under her chin, coaxing Saga’s open mouth to close. “You’ll give yourself away gawking with your mouth open like that,” she teased.
“This is the most amazing place I have ever seen in my life,” Saga whispered.
“And you still haven’t seen the spring and summer sections, let alone the spas.”
Saga’s eyes widened until the whites fully surrounded the irises. “Are you serious?”
“Welcome to Hygge,32 the joy of all four seasons in a city with only one,” Avery commented wryly. She was watching a large group of fey in the corner of Winter until the waitress, a small faun, stepped into view from behind them. Avery was looking for someone. Someone she hadn’t seen yet.
“We have seasons,” Saga defended half-heartedly. “They just all happen to heavily feature rain…” Saga gasped as one of the glowing orbs flit to another branch, realizing they were not twinkling in and out, but actively moving through the leaves. “Fireflies?”
“Will-o’-the-wisps.”
“I want to work here.”
“You want to stay in the café business?”
“I do if it looks like this.”
Avery laughed. “It is pretty wonder—”
A high-pitched squeal of delight broke through the calm din of café-goers, drawing attention to a small woman with hair like the aurora: a mix of deep blue, purple, and teal ombred to the tip with a vibrant bright green.
She was barefoot and wore a high-low gathered cream skirt, an ocher T-shirt that had been knotted to cinch it above her waist, and a lightweight robe made of deep blue fabric scattered with gold designed to mimic the night sky.
As she bounded toward them, Saga could see it was one of Hygge’s shirts, emblazoned with the “H” of the establishment’s name, resembling the oak tree above them by showcasing aspects from every season.
“Ah! Is it really you?” She squinted bright aqua eyes at Avery, speaking with a faint Finnish lilt.
“Fiore told me they let you out, but I didn’t believe them! ”
Avery chuckled, her eyes glassy. “Hello, Essi,” she whispered.
Esteri hopped excitedly from one foot to the other, now only about three feet from both of them.
“Are we hugging yet?” Her arms reached out to Avery, fingers wiggling in excitement.
“Too late, I am hugging.” She closed the distance between them so quickly, Saga could hear the breath leave Avery upon the impact of Esteri securing her arms around her.
Unlike with Saga, Avery did not initially flinch, nor did she attempt to pull away in surprise. Instead, she seemed completely at peace, and while it took a moment for her to return the embrace, she was happy to do so. This was an old friend who had earned that right.
“So much has changed while you were away!” Esteri exclaimed.
“Look at my hair!” She released Avery in order to grab two fistfuls.
Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but the colors shifted like the aurora they resembled.
“I go out like this! Well, almost like this. The tail, you know—but the hair I get to keep—mostly.”
While it was concealed by the flowing robe, Saga could see the flash of a white foxtail tipped with glowing teal wagging behind the woman as she took Avery’s hands in her own.
“Oh, I have missed you so. My life has been lacking far too much in murder with you away.”
“Most people would consider that a good thing, Es,” Avery remarked.
“Most people don’t have the rarity of your friendship,” Esteri countered, her attention abruptly turning to Saga. “Though perhaps the times have changed, I see you brought a friend! How extraordinary! Do you hug?”
“Yes?” Saga immediately lost what breath remained in her as Esteri caught her up in a similar enthusiastic hold. “Nice to meet you, I’m Saga—”
“You’re Audrey’s girl.” It was a casual matter-of-fact statement, as if the two had grown up together.
“You…know my mother?”
Esteri shook her head. “I know your grandmother—café owner to café owner. We trade secrets, share our lives. She used to show me pictures of Leigh and Audrey. These days it’s all pictures of you.
” She gestured proudly to the café around her.
“What do you think of Hygge? I know it’s no Hudson’s, but we have our own charm, don’t you think? ”
There was a sinking feeling at the mention of her grandmother, as she realized there would be many moments like this one in the near future: telling friends new and old that Saoirse had passed. Her throat felt tight, and her eyes stung. “It’s beautiful,” Saga breathed.
This change in her did not go unnoticed, and Esteri’s face fell. “Something terrible has happened, hasn’t it?”
“You said you missed the murder,” said Avery.
Esteri’s eyes darkened. “I’ll get the tea.”
They sat in the autumn section, tucked in a private corner, Esteri in one of the large wingback chairs and Avery and Saga sitting across from her in a love seat with a low table between them.
The teacups mimicked the silhouette on Esteri’s shirt, an acorn and oak leaf saucer.
Autumn leaves drifted down from the branches above them, graceful and picturesque, but when they hit any surface they vanished in a shimmer of golden light.