Chapter 18 #2
But Leila was already shaking her head. “No. It doesn’t matter now. She won’t listen, no matter who it comes from. I’ve tainted it. Ruined it.”
Her shoulders were shaking now, and I was arguing with myself about what was best to do. Should I hug her? Say something consoling? Sit in silence and hold her hand? I had no idea what to do or how to do it, and before I could decide, Leila was jumping to her feet.
“Forget our bargain, Wren. I don’t need your help with Persi. It’s never happening, and I need to stop deluding myself.”
“Leila, don’t say that. It’s not—”
“I’ve got to go,” Leila gasped, like the realization had just hit her, and now that it had, she couldn’t leave fast enough. She started looking frantically around her, as though she was searching for something she might have left behind, but seeing she’d brought nothing with her, she stood up.
“Wait, Leila. If that message was so important, don’t you think you should deliver it?” I asked, rising as well.
“What? No. Bernadette should have chosen someone else.”
“But she must have chosen you for a reason! Don’t you think—”
“Look, Wren, you’re a sweet kid, and it was nice of you to try to help me, but I’m done embarrassing myself.
I’ll see you around. Be careful, okay?” Leila said, her voice thick with tears.
She brushed past me, taking the stairs at a run, and jumping the last two.
She had nearly reached the gate when I called out.
“The sea glass! Did you give it back to Granny Nightjar?”
Leila turned back. “Of course.”
“What did she do with it?” I asked.
Leila shrugged. “She laughed like it was the funniest thing she’d ever seen, and put it in her pocket,” she said; and before I could stop her again, dashed out of the garden like she was trying to escape a five-alarm fire.
I briefly considered running after her, but decided against it.
She’d never talk to me, not now. I really liked Leila.
Aside from being a bit… enthusiastic, she was a really sweet girl.
She’d probably be good for Persi, if Persi ever decided to give her a chance.
Unfortunately, I was starting to get the impression that Persi was one of those people who was attracted to trouble, rather than what was good for her.
I walked back around to the front door and let myself in.
The shop was still sleeping, reluctant to rouse and start the day.
Even though it was a little past opening time, I took my time switching on the lights and pulling back the curtains.
No one was waiting to get in, and my thoughts felt sluggish and heavy in my head, weighed down with worry.
I barely paid attention to what I was doing as I unlocked cases, rolled back covers, and readied the register.
I had to recount the starting cash three times because I was so distracted, and even then, I wasn’t confident I’d gotten it right.
When I’d worked through the whole opening routine, I flipped the sign on the door and sat down behind the counter, realizing that I had nothing to occupy myself.
I’d been hoping to find more books on demons at the bookshop, but instead I came up empty-handed, and therefore with nothing new to read.
I still had the first book with me, but I’d already been through it, and anyway, it probably wasn’t a great idea to read it in public.
Witches didn’t generally come in through the downstairs entrance, but it was still a possibility someone might stop by, and the last thing I needed was another troubling rumor about me that I had to keep from reaching my mom.
I pulled out my phone for some mindless entertainment, but then I remembered how badly the Wi-Fi sucked in Shadowkeep, and pocketed it again.
I’d suggested to Rhi that we upgrade the Wi-Fi, and she’d looked at me with such a bewildered expression that I didn’t bother bringing it up again.
I was looking in the drawers for a deck of cards to play solitaire with, when the wind chime began to ring.
It was such a gentle, pleasant sound at first that I didn’t even look up.
It wasn’t unusual for the wind chimes to make the occasional noise—the vents for the heat were in the floor in that area of the store, and sometimes, when the heat kicked on, it would stir them a bit.
But the sound continued, and grew more insistent, until I couldn’t ignore it.
I peered into that corner of the store, and saw that the largest set of wind chimes was swaying back and forth.
This gave me pause. If the air from the vent had been the cause, it would have been the smallest, lightest wind chimes that moved, not the massive one.
As I watched, the chimes got louder and more insistent.
Huh.
I stood up and walked over to the display.
I looked up at the old wooden beam from which the wind chimes were hung, but everything looked normal.
I stuck my hand over the vent, but the air hadn’t kicked on, as far as I could feel.
I even checked the nearby window to see if it had been left open, but it was closed up tight.
And yet that one set of wind chimes continued to clang and ding as though being moved by invisible fingers.
“What the hell?” I muttered.
The chimes themselves were locally made by one of the Wilder coven witches. The pipes were made of hammered copper, strung together with seashells and driftwood and pieces of…
Sea glass.
My gaze had traveled naturally down the ropes to the largest piece of sea glass dangling from the very bottom of the chime.
I stared at it, uncomprehending. It was my sea glass.
The one that Leila told me Granny Nightjar put back in her pocket.
Refusing to believe it, I closed my eyes and opened them again.
How long had we had these chimes in the store?
Two months? Three? Had I ever looked at them properly before?
I couldn’t be sure of anything at this point, and that was frightening in itself.
More frightening, though, was that I knew what was coming: a vision. But from where?
Even as I asked myself the question, I felt the familiar sensation that had accompanied each vision so far—the unmistakable feeling of being watched.
I froze in place, my eyes fixed on the piece of sea glass, and tried to determine where it was coming from.
After a few seconds of concentration, I turned and looked directly to the right of the wind chimes.
A tall cabinet stood there. It held a collection of hand-poured candles in tiny brass cauldrons behind a pair of glass-paned doors.
And within the reflection in those glass panes, another vision waited for me. I waited only long enough to take a deep, bracing breath before I surrendered myself to it.