Page 34 of The Hearth Witch’s Guide to Magic & Murder (The Hemlock Saga #1)

Esteri watched her with keen eyes. It was strange how such a bright, unnaturally saturated shade could seem so critical.

“The idea is much the same, now they just charge you for it and call it capitalism.” She brushed something off her knee with a casual gesture, but her sharp gaze never faltered.

“I don’t think she’ll want to see you though. ”

“The feeling is mutual.” Avery growled the words as she worked the balm into her skin so firmly Saga was worried she might bruise herself.

Saga leaned over to try to catch Avery’s expression. “Is it?” Her voice pitched up in doubt.

“It doesn’t matter,” Esteri dismissed. “You’d need an appointment to get in, and the only way you’d be granted one is if you’d been deeply wronged and are karmically due for recompense.”

Avery closed the balm and set it down—Saga could see her right hand had returned to its normal shade, not a sign of irritation or rash in sight. “People like me are literally referred to and treated as an invasive poisonous weed among Otherworld citizens.”

This information stuck with Saga. What made Avery different?

“Ei nimi miest? pahenna, jos ei mies nime?.35 That’s a systemic issue, not a personal one,” said Esteri.

“You know she doesn’t deal in uprisings.

What was it she’d say? Revenge not revolution?

” She cleared her throat and gave Avery a pointed look that Saga didn’t understand.

“And even if she did, I believe you already made your play for retribution in that regard.”

“And yet how little life has truly changed,” the silver woman remarked bitterly, brushing her hair from her eyes. Had her ears always been so obviously pointed? Or was it only obvious now that they were here where so many other creatures did not have to hide?

“We’re safer now,” Esteri spoke softer now, but there was a weight to her words. “That’s thanks to you, Avery. And I know that did not come at a small price.”

Saga didn’t dare speak. She felt like a voyeur, witnessing but not participating in a deeply personal moment.

“I wish I’d had a chance to…” Avery didn’t finish. She shook off the rising tension in her throat. “Were they happy? In the end?”

“Yes,” Esteri assured. “We kept an eye on them for you, Fiore and me.”

A weak smile twitched at Avery’s lips, and her inhalation sounded suspiciously like a sniffle. “How is Fiore?”

“Oh you know, saving the world,” the tulikettu said with a small secretive smile brimming with admiration. “Overseeing multiple businesses, including this one…” Her eyes glittered, and she answered the question Avery was actually asking. “Still a council member.”

“Good.” Avery had not really kept her feelings about the council secret the few times she’d mentioned it to Saga, but she seemed sincere, which made the exchange all the more curious. “I never did get a chance to say ‘thank you.’”

“You didn’t need to.” Esteri glanced toward Saga and her shoulders hunched sheepishly. “I’m so sorry, I’m being such a wretched host! Please forgive us, we didn’t mean to exclude you. It’s just I have not seen this one in nearly two hundred years.”

Saga shook her head sympathetically. “No, it’s okay, I… Two hundred years?”

“Thank the fates for rising crime rates, eh?” Esteri laughed, giving Saga’s knee a playful little slap. “If they weren’t at such a loss without her it might have been five hundred.”

“Five hundred!” Saga echoed in shock.

“Well, it’s understandable. No government takes treason lightly.”

“Perhaps we could talk about this later?” Avery asked through gritted teeth.

Saga felt a pit in her stomach, remembering her grandmother’s referral to Avery as a convict. Her mind and heart began to race, unsure what to do with this information. She swallowed and managed to keep her voice steady. “You were in prison for two hundred years for treason?”

“Treason is a very strong word,” Avery tried to de-escalate.

Esteri, misunderstanding the situation, blithely joked on. “But pretty standard for cases of regicide.”

Saga’s throat dried up. “Regi… You killed a royal?”

“Did you not know?” Esteri blinked, bewildered. “I thought everybody knew.”

Avery’s hands were tight fists resting on her thighs. She took a measured breath before explaining, “Saga only recently learned of her family’s connection to the Otherworld, we haven’t had time to cover all the particulars.”

“Oooh.” Esteri bobbed her head in understanding.

Then, as it sank in, she exclaimed, “Oh! Oh, no. This sounds bad.” She turned to Saga and attempted in a flurry to undo any damage.

“It’s not bad. I mean, it is, I suppose, in the strictest sense of the word.

It wasn’t good, but Avery is not bad. Am I making sense? It’s not what you think!”

Saga turned a lost look to Avery. “It’s not?”

“I suppose that depends on what you think,” Avery admitted. Then, far more timidly. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know.” It was an unhelpful answer, but an honest one, and Saga was certain that was really the best she could give right now based on how little information she actually had. “You killed someone. You killed royalty. Was it in self-defense?”

“Yes.” The answer came without hesitation or excuse.

Saga believed her, but she wasn’t sure what this further information changed. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay… I don’t feel the need to run,” said Saga. “But I still don’t know how to feel about this. I’m gonna need some time to process.”

“That is perfectly reasonable.” Avery nodded, accepting this. “You’ve endured a lot for one day. I should take you home.”

“No. We still have so many questions.” Saga turned to Esteri. “The first victim’s brain was missing. In its place were a number of herbs, all of which relate to cognitive function, wrapped in straw. Avery’s divination revealed that something similar may have happened to my grandmother’s heart.”

Esteri’s expression clouded over. “Your killer is stealing the organs by switching them out magically?”

“And then trying to stage the deaths as something else,” Saga confirmed.

Avery held up a finger to make an addendum to Saga’s statement. “We don’t know if they’re actively staging it per se.”

“But Valentina was found in her car,” Saga insisted.

“And Saoirse seemed to have a heart attack, but both rituals clearly took place beforehand while the victim was sleeping. The spell appears to have some sort of time delay.”

“Well, there’s your motive for sedation or even binding magic. Perhaps your first victim had also been sedated,” Esteri suggested.

“Coroner didn’t find anything,” said Avery.

“Medicine is not as precise in this day and age as you might hope,” Saga interjected.

“I mean, definitely more so than it was two hundred years ago but… A lot of times when looking for foreign substances you have to perform specific tests in order to identify them, and even then you’re usually narrowing it down to the family of alkaloids.

I might be able to tell you aconitum was present, but I might not be able to decipher the species it came from—that may narrow it to the genus, but that still leaves hundreds of possible plants used.

If the coroner didn’t know to look for it, it might not have shown up.

Or, it might have been out of her system at the time of her death.

The whole point of giving your spell a trigger for a later time would be to throw off suspicion of foul play, right? ”

“Or to keep yourself safe if there was a risk of danger when it went off,” Esteri agreed.

Avery took this in and then posed to Esteri, “Could magical transfer work at a distance?”

The tulikettu bit her lower lip thoughtfully, and Saga imagined that if her vulpine ears had been present, they would have been lying flat to match her expression.

“It depends on a few factors—the power of the mage, the precise spell, and if the trigger was dependent on the victim or an external act by the caster.” She shrugged.

“They might have had to follow their victim at a certain distance in order for the spell to work. Sympathetic magic can be very tricky on its own, and I’ve never seen it used in such a way.

I know that poppets, if bound properly, can be used effectively regardless of the distance between the target and the caster.

Perhaps this straw brain acted as a poppet? ”

“I’ve never seen a poppet used for literal object transference like this,” said Avery.

“There’s a first for everything.” Despite the warm surroundings, there was something deathly eerie about that acknowledgment.

“Could you look into it?” Avery sounded pleading.

“You want me to try removing someone’s brain or heart from their body?” Esteri scoffed with a laugh. “Are you volunteering?”

“Es, I don’t know that world like you. Could you ask around? Dig something up?”

Esteri waffled silently. “I can. But I don’t think you’re going to find that information through regular channels. It isn’t exactly a council-sanctioned practice.”

Avery gave a resigned nod. “I don’t suppose Bimo Shinwell is still kicking around?”

“I know he’s alive,” the fox-fey said. “But I can’t speak to which side of Blackthorn he’s currently breathing on.”

“Blackthorn? Aren’t they a company that specializes in things like energy conser…” Saga’s voice trailed off as she made the connection. Blackthorn was sponsoring Avery’s stay. Avery had been released from some sort of confinement… “Is it secretly a prison?”

“Blackthorn is the surname of the royal bloodline. A variety of establishments carry their name, the correctional center being one of them,” Avery explained.

“Okay…” Saga tried to remember the number of places she saw that name around town.

There was a library donated to the city, a research facility on the campus of King’s College—she was fairly certain they had a monopoly on solar panel production in the country.

She put a hand to her head. “So, who’s Bimo Shinwell? ”

“A small-time criminal I used to enlist for information on occasion,” said Avery, trying to sound casual.

“Harmless if you had a good head on your shoulders—always arrested or assaulted for his petty get-rich scams, depending which side of the law caught up with him first. But he’s clever.

He hears a lot. For the right price, he’d let you hear it too. ”

“Were you planning on bribing him with free breakfasts at Hudson’s?” Esteri sipped her tea knowingly.

Avery’s jaw tightened. “So you heard about that.”

Esteri merely smiled, cryptic, clever, sly.

“Would Fiore…”

“I can ask.” Esteri didn’t make Avery finish her request. “But I can’t guarantee anything.”

“You know I would not turn to them if my back wasn’t against a wall.”

“I know, I know. I’ll see what I can do. Is there a way to get ahold of you?”

“Obviously where I’m staying isn’t much of a secret,” said Avery with a tight, dry smile.

“Do you not have a phone?” Esteri asked incredulously.

“Essi, I barely know what that word even means.”

Esteri huffed. “I have to get back to work.” She stood, brushing off her lap. As she did, faint glittering dust spilled onto the floor and vanished. She pointed an accusing finger at Avery. “You should get a phone.”

“I’ll be sure to put that on my tab at Hudson’s.” The sarcasm in Avery’s voice was so thick, Saga half expected it to fog the windows. “Do they come with sprinkles?”

31 Tulikettu (Finnish, fire fox): Arctic foxes believed to have lit the northern lights from the fire of their tails brushing the sky.

Capable of shifting their shape, these Archfey are one of the few outside the Aos Sí with an ability to travel between this and the Otherworld.

If it is a time of electromagnetic activity, either the aurora or even a lightning storm, there is a chance a tulikettu is catching a ride across the great divide to the other realm.

32 Hygge (HYOO-guh): There is no direct translation for this Danish word.

It is the comfort and cozy feeling of being inside by the fire during a storm.

It is relaxing and enjoying simple quiet pleasures together.

While the word in its current meaning dates to 1800, its origins can be traced back to the middle ages.

33 Though not fey in origin, there are some who would vehemently protest that most cafés are in fact attempting to imprison you. Many a writer has been trapped within a coffee shop, inexplicably unable to finish their manuscript, yet doomed to return each day to attempt with latte in hand.

34 Gaeilge (Irish folklore): An obligation or prohibition magically imposed on a person.

35 A Finnish proverb: Literally translated—“A name doesn’t make a man worse if the man doesn’t make the name worse.”

A person is judged by their actions alone, not their name.