by Erin Johnson
"Rhonda." Francis's usually stolid face looked horrified.
While Lady's Cordelia's cheeks burned almost as red as her hair. "We, uh—we were just discussing some official business."
"Oh!" Rhonda leaned into one hip. "Oh, I'm sure you were 'discussing'"—she made air quotes—"'official' business." She turned on her heel and stomped off down the alley in the other direction. Dylan, the governor's errand boy, leapt out from behind a stack of crates, where he'd been spying, and sprinted off the way Rhonda was headed.
"Hey! Hey, boy! Wait up. I want to ask you about this official business, you must have overheard." Rhonda stalked after Dylan, though he didn't slow and soon rounded the next corner and disappeared.
"Darling! Wait!" Francis took off after Rhonda, his feet hovering above the ground so that he appeared to be gliding.
That left Maple, Iggy, and me alone with Lady Cordelia.
She drew herself up to her full (rather petite) height and lifted her chin. She tossed her fiery, curly locks over her shoulder and brushed past us. "I need to find my daughter."
"Oh? You have business to discuss with her, too?" Iggy cackled as she stiffened.
"We have dresses to try on, thank you very much."
She turned to go, but Maple spoke up in a small voice. "But—well, won't they be closed today?"
"They'll open for the governor's wife and daughter." She huffed and left without another word.
"I think I need more coffee."
Maple nodded her agreement and we moved on, though I paused as something caught my eye. A little ways down the alley, a pile of burned brick and timber marked the site of another destroyed building. Had there been a fire in Wee Ferngroveshire? I decided to ask Pandora, or maybe the innkeeper, next time I saw them.
I trotted to catch up with Maple, and as we left the alleyway, I spotted someone even better. The old witch, Junie Kingston, unlocked the door of a shop across the square and stepped inside. She was just the woman who would know about these strange sites, as I'd seen her casting a spell over the ruin of the mirror shop.
I grabbed Maple's arm. "Let's go check out that shop."
"Oh." She walked with me, past the giant pine tree in the town center, where workers waved their wands and strung up lights and ornaments. "Did you see something you wanted to buy?"
I grinned. "I have no idea what the shop carries. We're going to scope out Junie Kingston."
13
The Heart Witch
A strange tingle of excitement ran through me as we paused on the doorstep to Junie Kingston's shop. A painted red sign above the door read simply The Heart Witch.
Maple bit her lip. "I've never gone to see a heart witch before."
I turned to her. "What's a heart witch?"
"Well, they claim to have extra powers to see what's in a person's heart—they usually give readings or sell little charms."
"Do they work?"
She shrugged and smiled. "I guess we're going to find out."
I took a deep breath and scanned the storefront. No sign explicitly said open, or closed. I couldn't see much through the two paned windows on the sides of the door. Gauzy white curtains obscured the interior, and wreaths hung at the top of each one. A woody vine snaked around the windows and the door, sprouting miniature orange pumpkins, and hundreds of brass bells of all sizes hung from the branches, tucked in among the tiny gourds. They tinkled gently in a small breeze that stirred up snow flurries.
"Should we ring the bell first?" I pointed at the black, cast iron cat bolted to the stone brick wall with a bell and pull dangling from it.
Maple grinned. "That's cute."
I shook the thin rope a little to announce our presence and then tried the knob and found the door unlocked. Maple and I stepped in, Iggy hanging in his lantern at my side. I blinked to see better in the hazy, golden light of the cozy shop. I couldn't help a smile. If I had to describe what the shop of a good old witch should look like, it was this. Dried herbs and flowers hung from the ceiling beams. I'd bet that Hank would have to duck in here, with all the flowers and chimes and candles hanging about. A fire crackled in the fireplace against one wall, producing a comforting warmth. I loosened my scarf and shoved my gloves into my coat pocket. We shuffled carefully through the tight maze of bookshelves, lit candelabras, wooden chairs and tables and racks displaying rows of potion bottles, soaps, charms on braided ribbon loops, and beeswax candles. The shop made me… sleepy. I took a deep inhale of dried lavender that tickled my nose, sweet warm honey, and heady incense. We passed a wooden table with its leaves in, sporting an enormous pot of blooming thistles and tiny seedlings in small pots and teacups scattered about. A living grapevine wound over bookshelves, wood beams, and curtain rods. A bubbling noise trickled in from somewhere unseen.
"Eep!" I leapt back and bumped into Maple. "Sorry. I almost stepped on a kitty."
A smoky gray cat lay curled on the carpet in a patch of filtered sunlight, the tip of its tail lazily beating against the floor in rhythm with its purrs.
"Aw." Maple slid around me and crouched down to scratch the cat's head. The little kitty closed her eyes and the purring ratcheted up to a level eleven.
"Maple's got a friend."
"Can we exchange this one for Cat?" Iggy grumbled.
I nodded to him in agreement. "I'd be good with that."
Maple narrowed her eyes at us. She stood abruptly as Junie pushed through maroon velvet curtains and looked around.
"Hello? Ah, Imogen. It's very good to see you again. And—I'm sorry, remind me your name, dear?"
Maple rubbed her hands on her coat. "Maple."
Junie winked. "Pretty name for a pretty girl." She turned to me and shot me a level look with those piercing blue eyes. "Can I help you find something?"
My chest tightened. Somehow, I knew she wasn't asking the question in the normal way. But I decided to pretend that that was how she meant it.
"Um—no, just looking around…." I gave her a nervous smile. "Your shop is beautiful, by the way."
Junie arched a faint brow. I gulped and my eyes shifted to Maple.
"Actually." I threw an arm around my friend. "Maple wants a reading."
She pulled away and shot me a surprised look. "I do?"
I nodded. "You do. My treat. Happy Bruma, friend." I wanted more time with the old woman, to get a feel for her. So far she was a pretty tough cookie.
Maple looked uncertain, but I gave Junie a firm nod. The old woman looked back, unwavering, and I caved in again. "Unless you're busy?"
She chuckled and with a wave of her hand, a couple of missing fingers glowing magically, beckoned us to follow her back behind the velvet curtain. "Come on, girls."
I pushed Maple forward and she half turned to mutter, "What are you doing?"
"I just want to know more about her."
"Why?" Maple hissed as we stepped around the cat.
"Because…." It was hard to explain. "I just have a feeling she knows something. I saw this ruined building in town, burned or crumbled or something—she was standing by it and I want to know more about it."
Maple frowned. "Burned building? Here? I didn't notice it."
"Exactly." I seemed to be the only one who did.
We stepped through the heavy curtain and it swung closed behind us. This seemed to be the back room, darker than the rest of the shop even, with a curtained window in a door that presumably led out to the alley. Dark brocade wallpaper covered the walls, with a few candles burning in sconces. Mismatched chairs bordered a round, wooden table. Junie Kingston gathered up bundles of dried flowers and moved them to a nearby bookshelf. A chalk pentagram remained, drawn right onto the wood of the table, with beeswax candle stubs placed at each of the points.
"I'm sorry—we're interrupting, aren't we?" Maple lifted her brows at me.
"Bah. Nothing I can't finish later." Junie waved a liver-spotted hand, and in the darkness of the room her magically replaced fingers glowed even brighter blue. "Just casting
a spell for the man who died last night, Bridger. To wish him safe passage to the earth's embrace." She shook her head as she packed up the accouterments of her spell. "The man's dead, so whether I do it now or another time makes no difference." She grinned, but the smile didn't reach her eyes.
"Were you friends?" They seemed an unlikely match from what little I knew of them. Well, more accurately, Bridger seemed unlikely to be anyone's choice of a friend.
She pursed her lips, deep lines ringing them. "Hm… we were in the heritage society together." She spoked carefully. "And while his personality left a lot to be desired… well, we've known each other a long time. Been through a lot together, you could say, and his life was far from easy. I suppose that's a bit of an excuse for his sourpuss disposition."
She cleared her throat, the table now clear. "So you'd like a reading, that's it?"
"Uh." Maple glanced at me, then nodded. "Yes. Please."
Junie gestured at the chair nearest Maple. "Have a seat." I took the threadbare armchair beside her, and Junie sat across. I set Iggy on the table and Junie gave him a sideways glance, but said nothing. She adjusted her shawl, then reached across the table, palms up. "Your hands, dear."
Maple lifted them, hesitated a moment, and then lightly set them on top of the old woman's. Junie kept her eyes open, but they grew glazed and she seemed to be looking straight through Maple. After a few moments of heavy silence, she blinked and lifted her eyes to Maple's.
"Are you into threesomes, dear?"
Maple choked and gagged, and I had to slap her on the back to help her get her breath back. Iggy devolved into a fit of laughter. "Excuse me?" came Maple's choked response.
Junie laughed and pulled her hands back. She clapped them in mirth. "Your heart is torn, right? Between two men?"
"Ooh, she's got you pegged," Iggy crowed.
Maple made a strangled noise.
"Thought so. Here's the thing, dear, whether you date this one, or that one—" She held her palms up like a scale. "You don't really know yourself. It'll be like a threesome, because while you're dating him, you'll also be kind of dating yourself, trying to figure out what you like and what you want. Now, nothing against threesomes, if you're into that kind of thing, but judging by the coughing fit, you're not. And also, frankly, they're a lot of work and never seem to work out. I should know. So. It'll be immensely easier for you if you learn your own self first, and then try to see if your wants and needs match up with someone else's. I'm going to give you a little…."
Junie rose and rummaged in a carved wooden box on a nearby shelf. "Ah, here it is."
She lifted out a glowing gold heart charm on a gold chain and handed it to Maple. "Put it on."
Maple hesitated, then dipped her head and looped the chain around it. The charm fell to her breastbone.
"And it even matches your hair." Junie grinned, the lines around her eyes deepening into cheerful crinkles. As much I found this woman worthy of suspicion, sneaking around at all hours, I had to admit I liked her. A lot.
"What does it do?" Maple twirled the charm between her fingers.
"What's your favorite breakfast food?"
"Uh." Maple looked up and away, then her eyes lit up. "Pancakes." The charm glowed brighter.
Junie nodded. "Okay, now tell me something false."
"Um." Maple glanced at me. "Imogen has blue hair."
The charm dimmed.
"It'll light up whenever you do or say something true about yourself. Just pay attention to it and you'll discover all kinds of truths—little things, like pancakes being your favorite, to more insightful things."
"It'll help me choose between Wool and Wiley?" Maple burst out. Then she looked down, her cheeks burning.
Junie smiled kindly. "It will. In a way… but again, it's about figuring out other things first. Things about you."
Maple nodded and glanced up. "But—can you see the connection between peoples' hearts?"
The old witch folded her hands across her stomach and leaned back. "I can indeed. And your heart is definitely all tangled up with someone in particular."
Maple opened her mouth to ask, but Junie pressed her lips tight and shook her head, cutting her off. "I'm not going to say who." She pointed at the charm around Maple's neck. "But that will help you figure it out."
Junie swung her icy blue eyes to me. "Now, Imogen. What was it you wanted to ask me?"
"I—" How did she know? I snapped my mouth shut. She probably just meant to ask if I wanted a reading, too, right? But I'd come here for answers, so might as well try. I gulped. "Well, no reading for me, thanks. But… well, I saw you, yesterday, casting a spell I think, over this charred pile of rubble."
Junie's eyes widened and her lips pursed tighter together.
I scratched the back of my neck. "And uh—I saw a plaque about a mirror shop, but Pandora didn't seem to know anything about it. Was there a—some kind of accident or something that happened to the shop? And I saw another destroyed building in an alley and thought maybe there was an earthquake here, or something and—"
Junie's lips parted to speak, but her reply was cut off by the frantic ringing of deep bells.
Junie frowned. "The bell tower." A moment later she pushed back from the table and shuffled to the back door, her false magical leg glowing beneath her skirts. I grabbed Iggy's lantern, and Maple and I followed the witch out the back door. We stepped into the alley and looked around.
"Oh!" Junie clapped her hands to her mouth, her wide blue eyes reflecting orange. "The records building."
I followed her gaze toward the town square and a tall tower, just visible over the roofline. Bright orange flames erupted from the top of it, while black smoke billowed out into the clear, bright sky.
14
When the Smoke Clears
I shaded my eyes with my free hand. Flames licked down the side of the timbered brown-and-white tower, creeping toward the main building below.
"Someone's up there!" Maple pointed and I looked up again.
A dark figure stood there, barely visible among the flames. It looked like a woman in a long skirt—or maybe someone wearing a long, flowing cloak. A moment later, black smoke hid the entire top of the tower from view.
The crash of crates startled me and I looked up. Dylan, the errand boy for the governor, tumbled onto his back, then scrambled to his feet.
"Oi!" Junie lifted her fist and shook it at him as he skittered down the alleyway. "You'd better run, you peeping Tom!" I doubted he heard her over the clamor of the warning bells.
Maple and I exchanged confused glances.
Junie pointed toward the crates. "That window opens to the dressing room in the dressmaker's shop." She shook her head. "That boy's heart is in the wrong place." We'd have to deal with the little perv later.
Still holding Iggy, I dashed back into the shop, Maple on my heels, hurdled over the cat, and burst out onto the town square. Lady Cordelia and Pandora rushed out of the dress shop, a couple of doors down, a moment later. A small crowd had already gathered in front of the burning tower, hurling spells at it to quench the fire.
Maple sang, breathlessly, as we sprinted to join the others.
"Water wet, and water cool,
From icy springs and clear blue pools,
Help us, to this fire tame,
Quench the smoke, douse the flame."
She lifted her palms and a spout of water, as if from a hose, shot all the way to the orange flames licking down the side of the building. I spotted a familiar dark head and sprinted up beside Hank. He glanced my way, did a double take, and then threw his arms around me.
"Thank the sea goddess. You're all right."
I nodded against his chest. "Where've you been?"
He gulped. "I slept in, then looked for you at the inn. I was there when the bells started."
I nodded and stood beside him, setting Iggy on the ground at my feet. Maple continued to mumble her little song to herself, casting the spell to help put out the fire.<
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"So." I glanced at Hank. "How do I do this?" We'd never practiced a water shooting spell before.
He shook his head slightly and raised his broad palms. I coughed as the burning smoke irritated my lungs and dried my throat. I blinked my stinging eyes.
"There are a lot of ways you could. But I've been trying to smother the flames by pulling the oxygen from the air at the top of the tower."
I gasped. "Hank—there's a person up there."
He paled. "You saw someone?"
I nodded. "The smoke's too thick now, but someone was standing up there a moment ago."
He looked sick.
"Maybe they got down." I shook his arm. "C'mon. We've got to try. Let's switch to water, though?"
Hank gave a weak nod, no doubt wondering if he'd suffocated someone. My stomach twisted at the thought, but we'd have to deal with that later. The flames were top priority. With Hank distracted, I cleared my throat and tried to clear my mind. I needed to pull energy from something and just focus on shooting water up there. I glanced around at the people, buildings, cloudless sky and all the white snow. A thought popped into my head.
"What if we just douse it with snow?" I tugged his coat sleeve again and Hank looked up.
He gave a terse nod, shaking himself. "That's a good idea, let's try—but not so much that we'd crush someone."
He and I picked a pile about the size of a large pile of leaves and focused on lifting it to the top of the tower. I'm not sure how much was Hank, or how much I helped, but we managed it and as more townspeople rushed to help, within minutes, we'd put out the flames. The smoke still stung the air and stained the sky, but it too, was much reduced.
With the danger gone, the alarm bells stopped ringing. I grabbed Iggy and we rushed up to the records building. A few men ahead of us shook the tall the wooden doors. They rattled, but stayed shut. "They're locked."
"Who has a key?" Hank asked, calmly, but with authority.
Junie hobbled up, an iron key in her hand. "All of us Heritage Society members do." She stuck the key in the lock and turned it with a loud click. The men tried the doors again, but they stayed shut.
