Chapter 16 #2
Shanna stayed at the viewpoint, letting that same wind flow over her.
There was nothing material to blow away here—only her worries and doubts, her fears and her curses.
Did Mom stand on this same spot once, too?
Watch this wild, breathtaking nature spread as far and wide as the eye could see, and feel freedom?
Freedom that there was no one here to forget her?
That she could go anywhere and each day leave the life of her previous day behind?
Maybe that was the way out of the hurt. There was a quiet calm to a place like this, where one couldn’t see another human for dozens of miles.
The earth, the water, and the air—Shanna had always used items representing those elements in her spells, but she’d never felt as connected to them as she did now.
They beckoned her to stay, to give up. To accept their soft, protective embrace. To forget, like Mom did.
Something brushed her arm, and she flinched in surprise. Simon stood next to her. Of course, he couldn’t go back to the car without her. He stayed silent, but his eyes softened, and his expression relaxed as he gazed at the lake.
If New Zealand was the three elements, he was the missing one.
Fire. She still felt it burning inside her, like she felt his lips and hands marking her skin, making her his.
In a surge of emotion, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it, begging him to never let her go and, at the same time, making peace with herself knowing he’ll have to.
“Let’s go,” he said after a minute. She nodded, and they drove off.
In the afternoon, they reached Queenstown.
After days of relative peace, the hustle and bustle of the lively lakeside city was a shock to Shanna’s senses, but the pleasant atmosphere made it easier to adjust. They parked near the city center, and Chris led them down the slightly sloping streets to find a shop where they could repair Simon’s phone.
Fall had painted the leaves of the trees brilliant shades of orange and red, contrasting against the snow-covered mountain peaks rising in the distance.
They passed streets of low buildings—restaurants, clothing stores, tourist information points—until something tugged at Shanna.
Not the tattoo on her wrist; Simon was walking right beside her.
As if drawn by an invisible force, she turned down a pedestrian-only street.
“Uh, the phone shop is over there,” Chris said, her voice faltering toward the end of the sentence.
“Give me a minute.”
Simon had to follow, so Chris followed, too.
Shanna scanned the storefronts, knowing in a second which one drew her in.
The Witchy Swarm, the sign said in bold, black letters.
She might have dismissed it as tourist bait if it weren’t for the letter S in the title, prolonged into a spiral with radial lines reaching out of it.
It was a sigil—a real one, even if Shanna had never seen it before.
Upon entry, the shop certified its status as a legitimate witchcraft store.
Crystals, carefully packed herbs, oils, chalices of all materials and sizes, symbols etched on wooden plates, or hung from little decorative trees, to be bought for charm bracelets.
A few shelves had gaps in them, though, of items missing, and many were marked as on sale.
“Hello.” A young woman behind the counter greeted Shanna with a friendly smile. “Can I help you? Anything in particular you’re looking for?”
“Just browsing.” Although she should replenish some of her stock.
The spell grid and the basil oil she’d lost in The Great Wellington Spillage, and she’d used up all the rose oil-based concoction in …
as she felt her face flush, she brushed the thoughts away.
“Do you have rose and cinnamon oils? And I’d need some white willow bark, too … ”
“Oh, you know your stuff.” The woman walked around the counter and led Shanna to the shelves housing the items. “Is it your whole family, or are you discovering the craft for yourself?”
“The whole family.”
“That’s nice. My parents don’t really get it.” The woman showed her the selection of oils, picking the ones Shanna chose.
“You have a shop, though. That has to mean something,” Shanna said.
“It’s not mine. I just work here. And even that, not for much longer.” She walked back to the counter. “On the plus side, you get a twenty percent discount for the twenty years of the shop!” She laughed lightly. “If you need whatever else, get it before we’re gone.”
“So the shop is closing?”
The woman nodded. “Bella is leaving on Saturday. So, Friday is closing day.” She tapped the counter. “I’ll miss you, buddy.”
“Bella is also a witch?”
“Oh, yes. A fantastic one. Even if I could manage a shop on my own, I wouldn’t feel fit to step into her shoes.” She gave Shanna a side glance. “If you’re looking for a job, though, maybe she can still be convinced to sign it over …”
“Me? No.” Shanna laughed, even though a sliver of possibility weaved through her mind.
It wouldn’t be such a bad fate. The clients would forget her, so she’d have to find someone to work in the store—like this young woman—but she could see herself, somewhere in the back, happily lost in making her jewelry charms, mixing herbs, embroidering sigils …
Maybe. One day.
The woman thanked her and wished her a pleasant day, and, sweeping up her two companions, Shanna left the store.
Next, they found the electronics store, where Simon spent twenty minutes politely arguing with the clerk.
“It’s my phone,” he said while Shanna window-shopped—if one could do so from inside a store.
“I know, sir,” the man responded.
“No, I mean it, I literally designed this—” Simon caught himself. “I want to say, I know how to fix it, so if you let me explain it, we’ll be done much sooner …”
“You’re going to make all the Kiwis hate us,” Chris said to Simon as they left the store—with the phone being taken into repair—half an hour later. “They’re gonna talk about that annoying American who thought he knew better.”
“I do know better!” Simon spread his arms. “I made the damn phone!”
“Relax.” Shanna smiled at him. “I’m sure they have competent people to fix it.”
“Why didn’t you buy another?” Chris asked.
Simon shook his head side-to-side. “All the pictures and videos are on this one, and I didn’t upload them to the cloud in case it led a trail back to me. I thought you wouldn’t want to lose them.”
Chris didn’t say anything, but she did manage a small smile.
“That’s so sweet,” Shanna said.
“Anyway.” Simon cleared his throat. “Between witch and phone antics, I think it’s time for a late lunch.”
Because of said phone antics, they had to stay until mid-morning the next day to get it fixed.
As they finally drove further south, down the road hugging the lake’s eastern side, the radio miraculously sprung back to life again, greeting them with a not-too-thematic but mood-appropriate California Girls by The Beach Boys.
Chris, of all people, began to hum first, and a few seconds later, she and Shanna were singing out loud.
Simon didn’t—claiming he had to focus on the road—but at least Shanna caught a smile from him.
And off they went, toward the end.