Page 18 of The Messengers of Magic

Chapter Fourteen

T he rain had stopped, and sunlight was now breaking free from its cloudy confines, filtering through the kitchen window, and casting a warm, golden light across the room as Adelaide finished her slice of cake.

She took a final sip of tea, then stood, placing her cup and plate in the sink.

Carolyn followed suit, rinsing her dish before bending and opening the cupboard beneath.

She pulled out an old woven basket, then walked toward the door.

“Come with me, I have something to show you,” she said, pulling on her oversized raincoat and slipping on her leather boots. She picked up an old brass ring full of keys, hanging from a nail by the door, tucked it into her pocket, and stepped outside.

Adelaide slipped on her sneakers and followed her great-aunt out into the morning air.

It bit at her cheeks, crisp and clean. Though it was only mid-August, the breeze carried a hint of autumn, her breath fogging faintly.

Beneath her feet, the dew seemed heavier than usual after the rain, soaking through the tips of her shoes.

She didn’t know if this was typical for Scotland or if autumn was planning an early arrival this year.

Carolyn said nothing as she led the way along a well-trodden path through the overgrown grass in her back garden.

Though tangled with weeds, the lawn was dotted with wildflowers that filled the thick, dewy air with their sweet fragrance.

Beyond the garden lay a small field, a forest bordering its edges, the very one where Carolyn had once taken her to search for fairy circles as a child.

At the end of the path, before the field’s edge, stood a small stone cabin.

Carolyn pulled the ring of keys from her pocket and stepped onto the small porch, where a wooden rocking chair sat, its slats warped and faded with age.

She thumbed through the keys until she found a silver one, ornately etched and dulled by time.

She slid it into the lock, turned the key, then pushed the door open, brushing aside a curtain of cobwebs as she stepped inside the dark space.

“I know it’s not much, but if you want to stay here for a bit, I thought you might be able to make something of it,” Carolyn told her, flipping on a switch.

A soft yellow light blinked on overhead, spilling from a large tin light suspended from the open-beamed ceiling.

The stone cabin was more spacious inside than Adelaide had expected.

A single open room with a large fieldstone fireplace at one end, and a simple kitchenette tucked into one corner.

In the back was a bed with a rusted iron frame beneath a dusty window.

Another door, closed, stood to the right of the kitchen.

The whitewashed walls had faded with time, giving the old gray stone a warmer, more inviting feel, although it was streaked in places with soot and grime.

Carolyn glanced at her. “Now, you don’t have to stay here, of course. You’re more than welcome to stay on the couch. But, this might be a bit more comfortable, though, pet, and give you some space to breathe.”

Adelaide stepped further inside. “I love it,” she said. “I don’t think I ever came in here when I was a kid.”

Carolyn laughed. “You were too busy chasing butterflies and pretending to be a fairy queen in the woods. Stone sheds didn’t stand a chance against your imagination.

” She ran her finger across the window sill, leaving a crooked line in the dust. “It’s got water and electricity, but you’re going to need this.

” Carolyn held out the basket. Adelaide peeked inside.

An array of old rags, a few half-used cleaning products, an abalone shell, and a tightly bundled smudge stick.

The smell of dried sage and something vaguely citrusy hit her as she lifted the edge of a rag.

“When you’re done cleaning, make sure you clean the energy in the room too. Light the sage, blow it out, and walk the four corners of the space.”

Adelaide smiled and gave a nod, but had no intention of performing that new-age weird ritual nonsense.

“Okay. I’m going to leave you to it. I’m off to the shop for a bit. I shouldn’t be gone more than a few hours.”

“Shop?” Adelaide asked.

“I have a small shop in town that sells herbs and teas,” she handed Adelaide the ring of keys. “You must remember going there when you were little. You used to help me restock the herbs in big glass jars.”

Adelaide paused, sifting through the fog of childhood memories. She didn’t remember any shop, but the scent of dried lavender and the memory of mixing “magic potions” in tiny bottles drifted back.

“Vaguely,” she replied.

“I’ll take you there tomorrow, let you stock up on some tea for this place,” Carolyn said as she opened the door. “Remember, let your hands be busy, and your mind will find peace. Oh, and don’t kill the spiders, please.”

She reached out and brushed her fingers gently across the broken web that floated in the doorway as she left.

Adelaide stood watching her great-aunt walk back through the sea of grass and flowers until she vanished from view. She shut the door and began to explore her new lodgings.

This cabin would be her transition place, the space that marked the shift from the life she had known to the one she had yet to build.

Trading her warm, neatly curated middle-class house in the town she and Jeff had spent months searching for, for this cold, dark one-room shed seemed like a harsh contrast. But unlike her old house, this space was all hers to decorate and do as she pleased with.

No compromises, no approvals needed. It was a lump of clay, waiting to be molded into whatever she dreamed up.

The furnishings were sparse, and a thick layer of dust coated every surface.

Mouse droppings marked the counter and kitchen table, and cobwebs stretched across the windows and light fixtures like forgotten lace.

It smelled of dust and old wood, of stillness left too long.

It wasn’t what you would call welcoming, at least not yet, but she could almost see what it might become with a little love.

The cabin had three windows: a small one above the washbasin sink, another beside the door overlooking the path to Carolyn’s house, and a large one at the back, framing the dense forest beyond.

All three were draped with heavy navy-blue velvet curtains, which Adelaide drew open one by one, letting in the light and revealing even more dust than she had originally seen.

At the final window, the one facing the forest, she paused.

A spider’s web stretched across the glass, a meticulously woven trap.

At its center, a light green moth struggled, its delicate wings beating helplessly against the spider’s silk.

It fluttered desperately, wings trembling, then stilled, as if gathering strength before trying again.

Adelaide’s heart ached for the trapped creature.

The spider was nowhere to be seen, leaving the moth’s fate in her hands.

She reached out and began to carefully free the moth from the web, breaking the sticky strands around its paper-like wings.

“There you go, little guy,” she said, as the moth broke free. It fluttered in mid-air for a moment, then flew so close to her cheek she felt the whisper of its wings brush up against her as if to say thank you.

She opened the door, letting in a rush of air, then waited for the moth to make its exit. It fluttered about the cabin, circling uncertainly, before finding its way back out into the wild. She stood in the doorway and watched until it disappeared out of sight.

Getting back to the task at hand, Adelaide began by wiping down all the surfaces in the cottage, starting with the kitchen.

The first swipe of the rag came up brown, revealing the countertop’s true color, a cheerful canary yellow with gold specks.

From there, she moved to the windows, scrubbing away years of grime and sweeping down cobwebs.

As the dust lifted, the light poured in, the room brightening with each pass of her rag.

The work was oddly satisfying, mirroring how she felt about her life.

Slowly wiping away the dark residue Jeff had left behind, hopefully to reveal her true light.

Pulling up the bottom corner of her flannel shirt, she wiped the sweat from her forehead, then looked at her watch.

Just over an hour had passed, though it felt much longer.

Still, the effort was paying off. The windows sparkled, and the cobwebs were gone.

The cabin was beginning to feel less like a forgotten outbuilding and more like a place she could feel at home.

Adelaide eyed the door to the right of the kitchen.

She suspected it led to the bathroom. She reached for the knob, bracing herself, half-expecting a dingy old outhouse-style toilet.

Instead, the bathroom was quite normal and surprisingly clean.

The air was musty, but not foul, and the surfaces were dust-free.

Likely spared by the shut door , she thought.

Still, she rolled her sleeves up further and got to work, scrubbing the toilet, rinsing the tub, spraying down the mirror until her reflection returned.

She wiped the window, the windowsill, and the little counter above the sink, moving a little slower now, her arms starting to protest.

The room felt fresher, and she half considered filling the bath and soaking her sore limbs, but the dirt-caked floor still called. And she hadn’t seen a mop anywhere.

She crossed to the cabin door, and her stomach let out a loud groan. The slice of cake she’d eaten for breakfast was long gone, burned off by a morning full of cleaning. Time to grab the mop from Carolyn’s… and maybe find something to eat while she was there.