by Agatha Frost
Em paused, and Iqra lowered the phone, her blank expression hard to read.
When Iqra didn’t speak, Em added, “If I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t say anything. But you’re here, which means you’re seeking something different. The two aren’t incompatible, but I worry that if you spend all day through the looking glass, you’ll forget what it feels like to have your feet on the ground.”
Nothing came from Iqra, so Em offered one last smile before lowering her head and taking a stride back.
“Goodnight, Iqra.”
“Goodnight,” Iqra whispered.
As Em drifted to sleep, she hoped she’d find the crystals in the morning and lift whatever uncomfortable energy had veiled Crescent Moon’s Yoga Retreat.
Em awoke with the sunrise the next morning, her head full after a night of strange dreams. She tried to call the crystal shop in town using the landline telephone, but nobody answered.
“It’s Christmas Eve, for those who care,” Hattie announced as she shuffled into the kitchen in her slippers and gown. “Where’s Evelyn?”
“She’s not hungry,” Moon murmured as she poured the freshly squeezed orange juice through a strainer into a large jug. “Probably best we forget about all this crystal stuff. She’s never going to perk up if we keep carrying on with it.”
But Em couldn’t do that. She dreaded what would happen to Evelyn if the grief continued to consume her. After breakfast, she found Iqra brushing her long hair in front of the small mirror in her bedroom.
“I’m sorry if my words were harsh last night,” she said. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“You didn’t.” Iqra glanced at her through the mirror, eyes wide. “It’s fine.”
But Em could tell it wasn’t fine, and she noticed the phone propped up against the wall. A flood of comments streamed in as Iqra broadcast to a couple hundred people. Knowing she wasn’t welcome to be part of it, Em backed out of the room. Before the curtain settled back into place, Iqra whipped the fabric back and walked out.
“I was streaming live by the fire when Evelyn went out on her walk,” Iqra said, folding her arms, her phone probably still broadcasting her empty bedroom. “I remember because I saw Evelyn walk past in the background, wearing that bright red kaftan. It came to me last night before bed that, soon after, I saw Hattie walk behind me in the direction of Evelyn’s bedroom.”
“Do you have the footage?”
“It doesn’t save once it ends,” she said, “so you’ll just have to take my word for it. I could put a request out to anyone who might have been watching to confirm if they saw something.”
“No,” Em said, thanking her with a smile. “There’s a much easier way.”
Leaving Iqra to her audience, Em walked around the circular hall to the floral curtain hanging in front of the room Hattie always took. Knowing better than to just walk in, Em cleared her throat and knocked on the wooden frame.
“Come in.”
Em peeled back the curtain, her heart skipping a small beat in her chest when she saw dozens upon dozens of crystals spread out over Hattie’s neatly made bed. Hattie was hovering over them with her hands, her eyes closed.
“Before you say anything,” Hattie said, opening one eye to glance at Em, “these are all my crystals, and I have the receipts to prove it.”
“I believe you.”
“I’m trying to locate the best crystal to give to Evelyn,” she said, picking up a glittery pink one before immediately dropping it. “I don’t want to make the situation any worse, but the poor lady is losing her mind. I can’t tell if she’s more upset about losing her crystals or the betrayal.”
“I’d say it’s an even split.” Em perched on the edge of the wicker chair, and when Hattie pulled away from the bed, she said, “Iqra says she saw you going near Evelyn’s bedroom when she was on her stroll.”
“What about it?”
“So you did?”
“I have no reason to lie, Em.” Hattie plucked out a purple crystal and clenched it in her palm. “I’ll play it safe and give her some amethyst for calming. And yes, I went into Evelyn’s bedroom, but I went into everyone’s room. I was looking for Crescent. That little rascal chewed a hole in one of my bed socks.” Hattie opened her hand, and after rolling the stone around in her palm, she pulled back the curtain. “I have more than enough of my own crystals. And I don’t hold it against you for asking. You’re only trying to help your friend. Speaking of which, I’m going to get this to her to see if it helps.”
Hattie left the curtain open and Em left with her. Before she could decide what to do with her morning, Iqra’s curtain ripped open, and she burst out in a panic.
“My fitness watch!” she cried, resting a hand on her forehead as she inhaled deeply. “It’s gone. I put it on my bedside, and it’s been taken.”
“You still burn the calories if you don’t count them,” Hattie called over her shoulder as she crossed the hall.
“That’s not the point!” Iqra’s cheeks darkened. “It was expensive, and it’s been stolen!”
Iqra looked around the hall, and before Em could talk any sense into her, she marched right up to Nova’s room and tore aside the soft pink curtain. The young woman faced the window, legs crossed, with white headphones trailing from her ears to her phone. Iqra walked right up to her and ripped the headphones out.
“Have you taken my watch?” Iqra demanded. “I heard you crying about owing money.”
“W-what?” Nova scrambled back, clearly confused. “What are you saying?”
“My fitness watch!” Iqra cried. “It’s been stolen.”
“And you think it was me?”
“It’s a bit convenient, isn’t it? First year anything like this happens, and it’s your first year here.”
“You were a newcomer last year,” Em said firmly, eyes tight on Iqra. “Nothing good will come from cornering the girl. Give her some space and talk like calm human beings or save this for another time.”
“But my watch—”
“Will turn up,” Em cut in. “This is a sanctuary, not a battleground. Kindness costs nothing.”
“And yet someone is stealing our things.”
“And we’ll get to the bottom of that,” Em soothed, sighing as she relaxed the built-up tension in her shoulders. “Nova, this is a question and not an accusation: did you take her watch?”
“No,” she replied, looking between them as she stood, headphones still clenched in her hands, “and it hurts to think anyone would believe I could.”
“I don’t,” Em assured her. “And if Iqra takes a step back, I doubt she will, either. Assumptions get us no—”
“Ladies!” Hattie’s voice boomed through the hollow hall. “You need to get your behinds here, stat!”
Em returned to the hall and was shocked to see Hattie by the fire, holding a purple velvet satchel in her fist. Moon rushed out after her, hands at her mouth.
“Where did you find that?”
“After I dropped off the crystal with Evelyn,” Hattie announced, glaring out of the corners of her eyes, “I stopped by Moon’s room to offer my help preparing lunch, and she was holding this.”
“I found it!” Moon replied instantly. “I swear, I found it. It was on the floor by my bed.”
“Likely story,” Hattie fired back.
“It’s true!” Moon’s eyes darted across the room as Evelyn’s curtain peeled back. “Evelyn, you have to believe me! I was framed.”
Evelyn blinked tiredly at Moon before the velvet drew her gaze. Squinting as though she couldn’t believe her eyes, she ran up to Hattie and took the satchel.
“Oh, thank you, thank you!” Evelyn clutched the sack to her chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“Have you got my watch too?” Iqra called to Moon. “I can’t believe you’d do this!”
“I didn’t!” Moon clenched her hands together. “Please, believe me. Someone planted that bag in my room this morning, and I—”
&nbs
p; “This morning?” Em interrupted.
“She was pushing us all to drop it this morning.” Hattie shook her head. “How could I be so wrong about a person?”
“Ladies … please…”
Moon looked around the hall, her eyes growing misty. She tore away and ran to her room, her bracelets clanking the whole way.
“That got out of hand quickly,” Em said, regretting her part in the escalation. “If we turn on each other, we’re failing at the reason we’re even here. Moon has been kind to us. She deserves the floor – her floor – to explain herself.”
Hattie wafted her hand in the air and went to the kitchen to fill the kettle, leaving Evelyn to collapse onto the sofa, the crystals still held tight to her chest.
“You were right,” Evelyn said to Em, finally smiling. “I’d lost faith, but they did turn up.”
“I’m afraid I had no part in finding them.” Em looked at Moon’s curtain as it fluttered back into place. “If you’ll excuse me, Evelyn. I think Moon needs a friendly ear right now.”
“What about my watch?” Iqra demanded, hands going to her hips again. “That was nearly six hundred quid!”
“Then shame on you for spending so much on a watch,” Em replied, tired of the tantrums. “If I were you, I’d be thinking about the best way to apologise to Nova. The girl is struggling to fit in, and at this time of year, in a place like this one, that’s the last thing anyone should be feeling.”
Leaving Iqra to consider her words, Em gently pulled back the black curtain covered in white crescent moons. Like a child after being told off, Moon lay face down on her bed with her feet slightly hanging over the edge. When she lifted her head, tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I didn’t take them,” Moon said. “It’s true! I found them in here this morning, but I didn’t take them from Evelyn’s room.”
Em pulled the wicker chair to the side of Moon’s bed.
“Why didn’t you come forward when you found them this morning?”
“I’m so ashamed of myself,” Moon said, pulling herself up to lean against the wall. “When I found them, I felt … good. I knew Evelyn would get them back today. I was going to give them to her – I just wanted to have them for a little while. To see if … to see if they could make me feel better.”
Sensing something deeper was going on, Em left the chair and crawled onto the bed next to Moon. Wrapping an arm around her host’s shoulders, Em gave her arm a sympathetic rub.
“Do you want to talk about why you needed to feel better?”
“It’s my mother,” Moon replied, dabbing at her cheeks with her hands. “She passed on last month. I didn’t say anything because, quite frankly, I’ve talked about nothing else since. I wanted a nice break with people who understood me.” Blowing a steady stream of air through her pursed lips, she looked up at the ceiling with glassy eyes. “When I picked up the satchel, I felt Evelyn’s energy coursing through my body. I wanted to absorb as much as I could to … well, I thought being more like her would make all this easier. And look what I did to Evelyn in the process! It broke the poor woman not having them with her.”
“And she’s fine now,” Em assured her with an arm squeeze. “If you didn’t take them, do you have any idea how they ended up in—”
“Hey!” Hattie’s voice thundered through the hall. “Get him!”
Em shuffled to the edge of the bed as Crescent sliced through the curtain and darted straight under the bed. Hattie ran in after him, panting and red-faced, followed by Iqra and Nova.
“Where’s he gone?”
“Under the bed.”
“The rascal took the hematite crystal from my room!”
Em jumped off the bed and crouched as low to the floor as she could. Crescent glared at her from the very back of the cavern under the bed, a shiny black crystal in his mouth and a sea of other items in front of him. Em dropped her head and let out a deep, chesty laugh.
“Ladies,” Em said. “I think we all got a little carried away.”
“My watch!” Iqra cried as Em reached under the bed and swept the contents out from under it.
“And my sandals.” Hattie snatched up a pair of open-toed shoes. “I didn’t even realise they were missing. And the matching sock to the one he chewed up!”
Nova scooped up two pairs of headphones, and Em the bookmark she hadn’t noticed was no longer sitting in the middle of the copy of Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale currently on her pillow.
“Looks like we’ve found our thief.” Em helped Moon off the bed. “He had the means, the motive, the opportunity, and he was right under our noses the whole time. We all owe you an apology.”
“Moon,” Hattie boomed, pulling the woman into a tight hug. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“Already forgiven.”
“I’m sorry, everyone,” Evelyn called from the door. She’d cast aside her mourning clothes and now wore a bright green kaftan. “I shouldn’t have taken the tea leaves so literally.”
“All’s well that ends well.” Moon clapped her hands and pushed forward a bright smile. “I think this calls for a healing meditation circle around the fire.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” said Em.
Late the next afternoon, Em leaned back in her chair, overfull from a rare second helping of the nut roast and winter vegetables they’d had in place of a traditional Christmas dinner.
“I know we said we weren’t exchanging gifts,” Evelyn said as she stood and pulled her satchel from within her especially festive glittery silver kaftan, “but I want to give everyone something as a thank you for embracing me.” She reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of crystals and gems. “I spent all night carefully selecting these for you all. Grounding jasper for Iqra. Clarifying sodalite for Nova. Aventurine for Hattie, for vitality. Healing pearl for Moon. And finally, compassionate emerald for Em.”
“This is too kind,” Em said, accepting the gemstone gratefully. “I’ll treasure it.”
“Yeah, thanks, Evelyn.” Iqra smiled tightly as she rolled the orangey jasper around in her palm. “It’s pretty.”
“I also got everyone a gift,” Nova said, a slight shake to her voice as she reached into her pocket. “It’s not much. I bought them at a gift shop in the village when I wandered off before the storm. I couldn’t resist when I saw them.”
Nova passed around the small crescent moon key chains, and by the time she sat down, Em felt she had fully become one with the group for the first time. And not because she’d bought them something – far from it – but the thought and effort that had gone into the token showed she no longer viewed herself as an outsider.
“This is a sweet gesture,” Em whispered to Nova when the conversation started up and people drifted away from the table. She reached into the pocket of her linen trousers and pulled out an old, folded photograph and flattened it on the table. “I carry this with me everywhere, as a reminder of who I used to be.”
“Is that you?”
Em nodded, smiling at the picture of herself, even though the past version of herself wasn’t smiling back. In it, she was sandwiched between her mother and grandmother, wearing a dress she hated and long hair she had already wanted to cut off for years by that point. The picture had been taken at the wedding of a distant cousin, whose reception was held at the grand Starfall House her late grandmother had once owned. Em had hated every second.
“I was around your age,” she said, “and I already knew I was different from everyone else around me. I hadn’t learned to stop caring what people thought of me. Whether I fit in, whether I looked the part, whether I was doing the right thing. That came later, and I’m still learning it every day. You don’t need to rush anything, but just know you aren’t bound to this version of yourself forever. Life is frustratingly slow and impossibly fast all at once, and each moment is fleeting.” She paused, her smile growing. “I love the young woman in this photograph, even though she didn’t love herself. And I’m not saying you hav
e to shave off your hair and cover yourself in tattoos like I did.” She laughed. “Be patient with yourself, Nova.”
“It’s true,” Hattie added, lifting her glass in the air as she stood. “You let all that stuff go and you’re free to be yourself. And forget about the fiancé! You don’t need to get married. Look at us. Not a wedding ring between us.”
“Thank you,” Nova said, with a watery smile, as though holding back tears. “I’m really glad I came.”
“Me too.” Em winked as she folded up the picture and put it back. “Maybe we’ll see you again next year – and who knows who you will be by then.”
“I will come back every year,” Nova said with a nod. “This place is magical.”
Em had heard many similar declarations over the years, though few followed up on their promises. Still, Em hoped she’d see Nova in the future; she wanted to know what kind of woman she’d become.
“Hot tub’s ready,” Iqra announced after running in from outside, already in her bathing costume. “Fancy a dip, ladies?”
“Not for me,” Em said.
“Nova?” Iqra offered.
“Sure,” Nova said, standing with a smile. “Count me in.”
Em couldn’t help but smile. She hadn’t seen Iqra with her phone all day, and she’d been actively trying to include Nova in everything. Thankfully, the madness of the previous day had left them.
While the two young women went outside and sank into the steaming hot tub on the back terrace, Hattie joined Moon by the fire. Before long, the instruments came out. With Moon on the panpipes and Hattie on the tambourine, they freestyled something that sounded vaguely festive.
Em settled into the collection of pillows Evelyn had set up and asked, “How about that tarot reading?”
Evelyn’s eyes lit up. “I thought you’d never ask!”
Evelyn pulled a deck of cards from within her kaftan and immediately slid them from the casing. As Evelyn lay out a spread on the wooden floor between them, Crescent tinkled over and settled on the pillow next to Em. She tickled his head, glad he’d been the one behind the robberies; his antics had bonded them in a way hours of yoga and meditation never could have.
