Chapter 21
Renata
Mindlessly, I walk through the aisles of The Healing Cauldron.
It’s the first time I’ve been here since meeting Eden outside of Edmond’s house. I can hardly believe it’s almost been a month since I arrived in Briarhollow. So much has changed in that time. Despite all that’s still to come, I wouldn’t alter a minute of it.
According to Rowyn, it’s owned by a family of Green Witches who have lived in Briarhollow for generations as far back as her own family. The Hawthorne’s work closely with her family, but she admits they’ve always taken a liking to her specifically—as most of the town seems to.
Not aware I have my own history with Eden, she encouraged me to use her name when I got here. So far, I’ve kept to myself and looked around their inventory.
They have an impressive stock. Not only is it much more vast than I would’ve anticipated for the town of Briarhollow, but there are some elixirs and potions here that some of the most talented Green and Hearth Witches struggle to make.
Much of it would put my mother’s apothecary to shame, I happily think to myself.
As I come around the corner to a new aisle, I nearly stumble into a short, elderly woman restocking small glass vials.
“Oh gods,” she startles and clutches her chest a bit dramatically.
I bite back my grin, remembering that Rowyn said the current matriarch is a bit of an old bat “in the best way.”
“Sorry, Miss Eden,” I offer gently and step back.
“Oh you,” she says when she looks up at me.
It comes out cold, and I worry that her initial impression of me has changed since I last saw Eden. She said she was friends with Cordelia…
“Hmmpf,” she mutters to herself and goes back to stocking the shelves. “I was wondering when you were going to come see me.”
It wasn’t ice in her greeting—it was hurt. From me not coming to the apothecary sooner.
“Oh,” I breathe out in surprise. “I’ve been busy. And I wasn’t sure…”
She turns to me and crosses her arms, somehow making me feel small despite our height differences.
“You think I didn’t guess who you were immediately?
When you were sniffing around Edmond’s, asking questions about him and his Chosen?
” She raises an eyebrow like a scolding grandmother.
“And Cordelia was my friend, dear. I’m here for you—just like I am for Sylvie Connor’s daughter and granddaughters. ”
“Rowyn’s grandmother?” I ask. I’m not sure I have heard her first name before now.
“Yes, of course Rowyn.” She rolls her eyes. “Thank you for giving her a coven. She and her sister needed space from each other, and it would make Sylvie happy to see one of the Connors back at the Dreaming Willow Inn.”
“Oh, uh, of course,” I say awkwardly. “I couldn’t do any of this without her.”
She offers me a bright smile. “Glad to hear that. She’s a loyal one.”
I nod. “She is. All of the witches in our coven are.”
She lets out another annoyed humph and says, “You send those other girls here soon. Many of us remember the stories of the great coven at the inn.”
My brows raise in surprise. Everyone’s been kind, much more than I anticipated, but I didn’t realize that some of the town members had good tales about our ancestors.
“You girls aren’t alone,” she adds gently. Then she straightens her shoulders and moves into shop owner mode. “What can I help you with?”
With a soft tilt of my lips, appreciating the subject change, I ask, “Can you point me in the direction of something stronger than what most Hearth Witches have in their personal pantries?”
She squints at me, clearly unsure of what herbs she should supply to me.
With my family’s reputation in this town, I can’t blame her.
I explain, “Headaches. Horrible, throbbing pain I can’t get to stop.”
Her brows flick up. “You don’t want something to help you sleep?” She must catch the look of confusion that crosses my face because she adds, “Cordelia preferred to sleep without dreaming—though suffered from migraines as well.”
My heart cracks in pain for my great-aunt, knowing how hard it is to be afraid of your own subconscious.
She looks at me, head tilted and assessing eyes roving over each detail of my face. “Let’s get you something strong enough to ward off the pain. Though exhaustion isn’t good for any witch.”
Much less a cursed one.
Fighting back tears, I try to not think about the hallucination I had two nights ago, after telling the coven about seeing Archer in our dream meadow.
One second I was in my bedroom, reading Petra’s journals, and the next, I was ducking out of the way from a vase she threw at my head before falling into a weeping mess on the bedroom floor, clutching her stomach and screaming.
I tried to get to her, to comfort her or find out where the pain was coming from, but when I went to take a step toward her, I accidentally walked right off my bed and twisted my ankle on the way down.
I hadn’t realized I was standing on the mattress until I was halfway to the rug.
When I gathered my bearings, Petra was nowhere to be found. Neither were the remnants of the sapphire blue vase.
What I was left with was her pain—not the physical kind. The distress she felt even made my stomach turn.
The sprain wasn’t bad, so my magic was able to accelerate the healing within a few hours without having to tell Rowyn. She’s subtly ignoring me, It’s because she thinks I’m avoiding whatever preconceived destiny the universe has in store for me.
I can’t understand why spending time with Archer would ever be my fate in this twisted mess our ancestors got us into.
Ever since, I’ve been sleeping as little as possible, and during the most random hours, hoping to avoid him at all costs. However, Petra and Nestor are not as easy to navigate around. I always find one of them in whatever state I’m in.
It’s all catching up to me—the exhaustion and sadness of avoiding Archer and the toll it’s taking on my magic to be in the presence of Petra and Nestor’s spirits all the time.
I’m too scared to sleep. Even with a dreamless elixir, I’m not convinced it could be strong enough to fight off the growing void of my deteriorating mind.
“Thank you,” I tell Eden.
She offers an understanding, maternal nod without saying anything, and turns back to the cabinet across from the one she was restocking. As she crouches down, looking for a particular recipe, I understand why Rowyn loves this place so much.
Not only does Eden have a friendly nature, but the store is warm and cozy.
There’s a self-serve area with pastries and tea next to a small seating area.
In the back corner, her bat familiar is hanging from a branch-like structure, napping.
On the other side of the room, there’s a couple fires burning with potions simmering, keeping the store warm and aromatic.
Each of the elixirs are labeled with things like “good luck” or “a better day,” and I’d bet anything they’re brewed fresh daily.
She stands and groans as her knees pop. She doesn’t look uncomfortable though, rather like she’s warming up to go for an afternoon jog.
“Take this and meet me at the counter, dear,” she directs me with a hand on my back, pushing me toward the back of the store. “I’ll help this gentleman, and check you out at the same time.”
I look at her with a growing, appreciative smile, but I catch sight of the customer who she was talking about right as the bell above the door rings. The grin freezes for half a second before completely falling.
His gaze is on the ground, focused on his feet until he crosses the threshold into the store and meets my eye.
I don’t know if it’s an accident, or if he’s as called to me at this moment as I am to him, but either way, his attention is firmly focused on me now.
As quickly as it hit me in the library, I can see the realization dawning on him with each millisecond he stares at me.
I’m positive it’s no more than five seconds until I’m able to shake myself out of it, but it feels like an eternity I could easily get stuck in.
“I’m sorry, Eden,” I mumble and clumsily pass the glass vial back into her hands. “I—I’m not feeling very well. I’ll come back for that later.”
Before I can get more than a step away from her, she grabs my arm and turns me back to her. I catch the curious, concerned look she throws in Archer’s direction. Just as quickly, she’s firmly pushing the vial back into my hand.
“Pay me later,” she says and pushes me on my way. As I stumble forward, accepting the only way out of the apothecary is to go around him, Eden turns her attention to him. “How can I help you, sir?”
A new wave of gratitude rushes through me at her effort to distract him, though it’ll be a fruitless effort.
He watches me as I make my way around him, hiding my face as if it would make a difference, and careful not to come into physical contact with him. I can feel his gaze on me every step of the way.
He says something to Eden, but I don’t catch it before I’m jogging down the street. Without looking, I take the first left and enter the town’s botanical gardens. Rowyn showed Clementine and me around one afternoon, so I know to take the first right. After that, I’m lost in the maze.
Rowyn walked through here so confidently, I didn’t realize how many pathways there were to choose from. Despite the garden being well-kept by the Green Witches, the tall hedges and rose bushes are at least eight feet tall, so it’s only possible to see in front of, or behind me.
Quickly, I spin in place and consider my options. Archer will come looking for me. It’s inevitable at this point.
Taking the first opening to my left, I come around the corner to a wall of leaves. As fruitless as it is, I back up until I’m pressed against one of the shrubs, hoping the rose vines will create a shield around me.
Heart racing, I lean my head against the wall and take a deep breath. I rub my clammy palms down my skirt and take a second to look up at the sky, not sure if I should curse or thank the universe.
Closing my eyes, I have no choice now but to wait, intuitively knowing he’ll be right there when I open them again.