Page 26 of The Messengers of Magic

Carolyn slipped a muslin apron over her head as she headed toward the rear of the shop. “Can you work the till while I fill a large tea order? Think you can handle that?”

“Um, I’ve never—”

But Carolyn was already gone, disappearing through a door behind the counter.

Adelaide began fiddling with the register, pressing buttons at random until one sprang the drawer open with a cheerful ding .

Relieved she could at least make change, she stepped back into the shop, her gaze sweeping over the alphabetized wall of herbs in their neatly labeled jars.

The song on the radio shifted to “Abracadabra” by the Steve Miller Band, and she smiled.

The place certainly had a magical quality, like she’d stumbled back into some eccentric corner of time.

She reached for a jar labeled Matricaria recutita (Egyptian Chamomile). The lid popped off with a soft echo, and she raised it to her nose. A warm, honeyed scent wafted up, sweet and slightly grassy. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it settle her nerves.

The sudden jangle of chimes above the door brought Adelaide quickly back into the present and she screwed the lid back on and placed the jar back onto the shelf.

An older woman entered in a wide-brimmed sun hat, the kind you might wear to a garden party or the horse races.

Adelaide’s heart rate picked up. She didn’t have a clue how things worked here.

“Hello. Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked, watching as the woman wandered further in. Adelaide suspected her first customer might know far more about this place than she did, if she was local.

The woman studied her as she drew closer.

“Oh, you must be Adelaide,” she said with a kind smile as she stepped up beside her.

“Carolyn’s great-niece, isn’t it? My word, the last time I saw you, your da had brought you up for a visit.

You couldn’t have been more than nine. I’m sure you don’t remember me, I’m Susan. ”

Adelaide offered a polite, uncertain smile.

“I hear you’re staying with Carolyn for a bit,” she continued, a note of curiosity threading through her voice.

Adelaide’s stomach gave a small twist. Of course word had already spread. Small towns had fast tongues. She kept smiling, but said nothing, wondering how much this woman knew. Had word already gotten out that her husband had replaced her with a younger model?

The silence stretched. “Well, I’m just here to pick up my arthritis cream.”

Susan walked to the center table and grabbed a short brown glass jar labeled Willow it was the moth again, drifting past on a lazy current of air.

It dipped low, its wings flashing briefly in the sun before vanishing into the green veil of ivy that clung to the old bookshop.

The air around her felt charged, like the moment before a storm. She looked toward the rundown building.

Yes, Susan would indeed be seeing her soon.