Page 63 of The Hearth Witch’s Guide to Magic & Murder (The Hemlock Saga #1)

“What you do. Seeing people…” Her mouth attempted to form the words before opting for vaguer terms. “How we found Doctor Campbell. How do you keep going with that haunting you?”

It was always a relief when someone saved Avery the trouble of bringing up the socially delicate thing by doing it themselves. “The same way you operate on people who need you, I imagine. I’m sure you worked plenty with cadavers in your medical training.”

“I did…” Saga held the books tightly to her chest.

“But it’s different,” Avery finished for her, recognizing the way her voice lingered.

Saga nodded, meeting Avery’s eyes for the first time since they’d found Alistair Campbell. “Yes. It’s very different.”

“Did I upset you when I asked you to examine him?”

Saga chewed on this question, giving it a great deal of thought. “You did not upset me by asking, but I was upset.”

“I am not sure I’m following you.”

The smaller woman took a deep breath. “I’ve dealt with victims of car accidents and those who passed from far more natural causes.

There is a kind of sterile separation from those bodies—it was easier to look at them clinically.

Doctor Campbell had his life brutally ripped from him—pieces of him were brutally ripped from him.

That kind of violence leaves more than a physical mark.

” She shivered as she thought back on it.

“I am not blaming you for my emotional reaction to that mark—I want to be of assistance, I am incredibly flattered you value my insight and opinion on this matter…” Her brow furrowed as she paused, hoping she was properly communicating her point. “But it was an upsetting experience.”

Avery could feel a warmth in her chest, akin to a swell of pride. It was such a vulnerable and honest admission that did not seek to cast blame, merely make itself known. It was hard not to admire that. “How do you feel now?”

Saga shook her head. She had that look about her of so much to say without the language to say it.

She took a few deep breaths and something in her demeanor shifted—a physical manifestation of her changing her mind on what to say.

“Every time I close my eyes or let my mind drift…” She flinched. “How do you stop seeing it?”

“I think of something better,” said Avery.

Saga was a paragon of utter disbelief. “Just like that?”

“It has to be a lot better,” came the convivial clarification.

“Like what?”

Avery hesitated at Saga’s quiet desperation, but only for a moment.

Perhaps she might have shrugged off the question before—or attempted something vague but witty…

Except that Saga had already been open, and she had done so without weaponizing her pain.

That sort of thing had a way of making the small space they shared feel safe.

“My friends. Before my imprisonment, I had a small group of friends who in their own ways were also misfits within the society they were born into—and Esteri, of course. They were talented, brilliant, kind, and inspiring… They entered every day with the determination to make the world a little brighter. When they were alive, I thought of them.”

Saga acknowledged this with a small bobbing of her head that carried on a few moments after Avery had stopped speaking. A beat, and then she prodded. “And now?”

“Now…” She gave the question the respect and thought it deserved. “I think it might be you.”

There was a new shock to Saga’s face. It widened her eyes, but brightened the color. Her lips quivered, mouth opening and closing uselessly before she managed an uncertain “You barely know me.”

And yet, Avery found she could not deny it, so she merely shrugged.

“Why me?”

It was Avery’s turn to look dumbfounded.

She would have thought the reason was the most obvious of all.

“Because you’re remarkable, Saga.” She spoke it plainly.

Facts did not need to be tarted up with flowery language or flattery.

“Anyone unable to ascertain that simple truth is either deprived of your acquaintance or very stupid.”

Saga would have easily fit in with the Irregulars, of that Avery had no doubt.

Had she been there, she might have even been able to keep the group better together and focused on their goal after Avery was imprisoned.

She certainly had the mind for the work.

What she lacked was experience and thus the tools to handle new experiences.

Both would come in time. Avery no longer doubted that.

“Should centuries also pass between us, I have no doubt you would still be well preserved in my memory.” Avery smiled, but she could feel a strange tightness in her throat. She cleared it and bowed her head, taking the books from Saga’s arms. “Until tomorrow.”

“Until tomorrow,” the smaller woman echoed as Avery began to climb the stairs.

The detective had every intention to spend the rest of the evening looking for clues in both the margin notes and experiment notebook.

Instead, much to her surprise, she found herself distracted and reflecting on the curious lasting impression of a single human over the course of a mere few days before drifting easily into a content and dreamless sleep.

58 Discounting the truly insidious nature of a home owners’ association, however, would be folly in itself.

Beware of anyone who claims to be a board member, yet spends their days meticulously measuring the height of your grass or counting your lawn gnomes.

They are the worst sort of villains, with the power to turn a home into a house, and no nisse would settle down within a five-block radius of their abodes.

59 A scene of crime officer. Typically not police officers but forensic scene investigators employed by the police force.

60 The mythology around unicorns has become oddly scattered over the years, separating them into alicorns and pegasus, among others.

To set this record straight, unicorns, like most Archfey, are capable of shape-shifting, and therefore if they wish to have wings, they will.

If they wish to transform themselves into bipedal mortals and train for a human medical degree, they will. Unicorns are unpredictable like that.

As for their magic, they are extremely powerful and gifted healers, and for this reason their horns were greatly hunted for a time by humanity.

For this reason for a number of years they often only chose to reveal themselves to young children and nonviolent adults.

The unicorn community suspects this is where the “only virgins can perceive them” rumor came from.

Unicorns would very much like you to know they do not give a damn about your sexual history, and it’s frankly none of their business.