Page 27 of The Messengers of Magic

Chapter Nineteen

A delaide spent the day helping Carolyn in the apothecary, but no matter how busy she kept herself, her mind kept wandering back to the abandoned bookshop and what Susan had said.

By the time they closed up and walked out into the dimming light, a sharp chill in the air made Adelaide wish she’d brought a sweater.

Autumn was most definitely beginning to push summer out the door and settle itself in its place.

A soft shade of pink coated the tops of the mountains, fading into an indigo sky where a crescent moon had just begun to glimmer.

From the little shop’s chimney, a thin plume of smoke spiraled upward, snaking its way into the darkening sky, looking like a lasso about to hook the moon.

A sweet smell wafted past, carried on the wind from the direction of the old bookshop. Adelaide turned her nose toward it, inhaling deeply.

“What’s that amazing smell?” she asked as Carolyn locked up.

“That would be the Marbled Clover Bakery,” Carolyn said with a smile as she turned to face the same direction.

“A bakery,” Adelaide repeated as her mouth watered at the sweet smells filling the air around them.

“Shall we be bad tonight and have sweets for dinner?” Carolyn asked with a double raise of her eyebrow.

Adelaide grinned and nodded; her hungry stomach thought it was a marvelous idea.

They strolled down the cobbled street toward the bakery.

But as they drew closer, Adelaide’s attention drifted, her gaze catching on the bookshop.

Her thoughts twisted around an idea that had been brewing ever since Susan came into the shop, and she wondered how much the town would be selling the building for.

“Best chocolate puffs you’ve ever had,” Carolyn declared, pulling open the bakery door and snapping Adelaide out of her reverie.

A gust of warm sugary air swept out into the street, trailing behind the chime of the bell.

Adelaide blinked, gave the bookshop one last look, and followed her aunt inside.

The bakery not only smelled divine, but it was one of the cutest little pastry shops she’d ever been in.

A long polished wooden counter spanned the length of the room, dividing it in two.

Behind it, the wall was dotted with an impressive display of vintage tea trays in a variety of colors and styles from the past. But underneath the counter, was where the real treasure lay.

A curved glass case showed off a dazzling spread of baked goods: empire biscuits topped with bright red cherries, golden Scotch pies with perfectly flaky crusts, glistening buttery rolls, sugar-dusted shortbread fingers stacked like timber, and fruit scones piled high like snow-capped peaks.

A bundt cake drizzled with white frosting sat proudly on a pedestal plate next to a tray full of chocolate puffs.

Adelaide let her gaze wander over the sea of treats, and her stomach let out a groan.

Carolyn raised an eyebrow. “We’d better get you something quick before you decide to eat me,” she teased.

A woman slightly younger than her great-aunt emerged from the back of the shop. She was a tiny thing, barely tall enough to peer over the counter, with a mop of ginger hair streaked with white, braided and flopped over one shoulder.

“Carolyn, how are you?” she said with a wide smile.

“Well. And how are you doing, Dottie?”

“Oh, we’re good, keeping busy.” She laughed, a sparkle in her eye that made her look younger than her years.

“This is my great-niece, Adelaide.” Carolyn gestured between them.

“Yes, I heard you were in town. So nice to meet you,” Dottie told Adelaide with a genuine smile.

Adelaide smiled back, though inwardly she cringed a little at the thought of being the town’s latest gossip. She could only hope they assumed she was here visiting her great-aunt for a peaceful getaway and not running away from a bad breakup with her cheating husband.

“What can I get for ya?” Dottie slid open the long glass panel of the display case.

“Well, I can’t very well come in here and leave without a half-dozen of your chocolate puffs. Though given how loudly this one’s belly’s talking, we might as well make it a full dozen,” Carolyn said with a laugh, nodding toward Adelaide.

Adelaide’s cheeks flushed red.

“And what about you, dear, what can I get for you?” Dottie asked as she started to fill a box with the puffs.

“Could I get two of those delicious-looking empire biscuits and two fruit scones, please,” Adelaide requested, her mouth still watering.

Just as Dottie was closing the box, a man walked out from the back.

“Iain, nice to see you up and about. I was just about to ask Dottie how your leg’s been,” Carolyn said to the man as he limped over and stood beside Dottie.

“Much better, thanks to that salve you made me. Thank you.”

“It was no problem. I’m happy it helped. Now, what do I owe you?” Carolyn reached into her oversized leopard-print purse, a bag so gaudy, it looked like it should belong to a punk rocker and not an old lady, and took out her wallet.

“No charge.” Dottie smiled, handing her the box.

“Oh, no, please let me pay.”

“You already did,” Dottie replied. “You’ve paid me in full a hundred times over with that salve. If I’d had to hear him complaining another week about being laid up, I might have finished him off myself.”

“You hear that, Carolyn? Ya saved my life from this brute of a woman,” Iain joked, eyes twinkling as he looked down at Dottie, who was obviously his wife.

Adelaide’s breath caught, the warmth of the room suddenly turning cold around the edges.

This, this was the future she’d once imagined with Jeff.

The easy laughter, the playful banter, growing old side by side with someone who looked at you like that.

She bit her thumbnail, trying to blink away the sting behind her eyes.

Who was she kidding? They had never been that playful couple.

There was no banter, no tenderness like this.

Just a fantasy she’d held on to tighter than she’d realized.

And now it was unraveling in a quiet village bakery, undone by a simple look.

That was never going to be her and Jeff. Not in this lifetime.

“Well, thank you, and I’m glad I could help,” Carolyn said with a chuckle, handing the box to Adelaide.

Adelaide offered the couple a thank you as she took the box and walked toward the door.

“We hope we see you again before you leave,” Dottie said as Iain wrapped his arm around her.

“Oh, you will. Adelaide will be living with me for a little while,” Carolyn told them.

Adelaide wasn’t thrilled with her great-aunt’s response. That little announcement would surely fuel the gossip fire that was already spreading throughout the town.

“Oh, how wonderful.” Dottie beamed, deepening the creases on her face.

Adelaide edged closer to the door, desperate to avoid the next round of questions she could feel coming. Her hand closed around the door knob, ready to bolt, when something above the door caught her eye. A grouping of old black-and-white photos.

She froze.

There it was. The bookshop, the Feather Thorn, in its original glory. No vines. No rot. Just clean brickwork, tall windows, and a hand-painted sign arching above the door. A handsome man stood outside, hands tucked into his front pockets, smiling at the camera with a proud smile.

Adelaide felt her heart stop. The shop looked like a dream from another time, and a deep ache settled in her chest. How could someone have just walked away from such a beautiful place , she wondered.

“Those are pictures of all the shops on the street and their owners from 1955,” Iain said.

“The one on the right is your aunt at the Purple Thorn,” Dottie added, pointing.

“I remember the day these were taken. Iain bought you that camera for your birthday, and you went about town like an amateur photographer.” Carolyn laughed at the memory.

“And a darn good one,” Dottie rebutted with her own girlish laugh.

“Well, I think they’re wonderful,” Adelaide replied. She pulled open the door, letting the cool air rush in.

“You two have a good night,” Carolyn said, following her outside.

The street had grown darker, and a nearby streetlight flickered to life, casting a soft golden glow over the front of the bookshop.

“What do you think happened to the guy who owned it?” Adelaide asked, even though Susan had already given her part of the story.

Carolyn shrugged. “Probably just gave up and went home. That’s what people do when businesses don’t turn a good profit.” She turned briskly down the street. “Now, let’s get going before I eat all these puffs without you.”

Adelaide glanced back at the building. Maybe that was the answer. A failed venture. A quiet surrender. Still…

As she lingered, eyes fixed back on the bookshop, something moved, soft and delicate, just above the vines.

The moth.

It drifted from behind a shadowy corner and floated toward the eave, wings flashing briefly in the light. Her eyes followed its graceful dance.

Despite the chipped paint and weeds, the building called to her.

Something about it pulsed with possibility.

A-Ha’s song “Take on Me” started playing in her mind, as she imagined what the place might look like if it were fixed up, warm lights in the windows, people inside.

The idea she’d flirted with earlier was taking root, and she felt a growing desire to take it on, just like the song.

“Come on, Adelaide, or I’m eating these without you,” Carolyn yelled from up the street.

“Coming,” she shouted back.

The moth vanished into the shadows, its wings catching the last traces of light. Night had settled fully now, the town wrapped in a heavy cloak of darkness.

Adelaide turned to go, but paused.

A flicker. Just at the edge of her vision.

She spun back, eyes lifting to the second floor of the bookshop.

A shadow had crossed in front of one of the windows. She was sure of it.

Her heart thudded. She scanned each pane of glass, looking for proof. But they stared back blankly. Empty. Lifeless.

“Trick of the light,” she whispered to herself, though her words held little conviction.

She finally turned away and jogged to catch up with Carolyn.

But had she looked back, just once more.

She would’ve seen it again.

A figure, half-hidden in the shadows, watching her from the upper window of the sad, forgotten Feather Thorn.