Chapter 6
Aiden made the best of his few days off, working on jobs that had piled up in his ma’s little house – the ones he’d been meaning to get to for ages.
Now, the kitchen door no longer squeaked, his bedroom door was rehung to actually shut again, and the trim was repainted.
He’d spent hours in the garden with his ma – partly helping her, and partly stripping and servicing his bike.
Basically, plenty of things to keep busy to avoid thinking about Mia – or messaging her anything other than the usual polite pleasantries and jokes.
Even so, he was tempted, and had opened the app more than once to start writing messages he really shouldn’t send.
And he’d spent too many hours too late into the night trying to read, or doomscrolling, while trying not to think about her.
So he was more than a little tired when he walked into Glimmers, earbuds in and blasting music loud enough to hopefully wake him up and rattle some sense into his brain. He went through his usual tasks on autopilot: feeding Rayenne’s garden birds, and Mist, and getting the store ready to open.
He jumped when Rayenne rested her hand on his shoulder – the same spot that had been irritatingly itchy the last few days with an invisible pimple. ‘Good morning.’
‘Hi, sorry.’ He turned the music off and tucked his buds back into his pocket.
‘Are you all right? You seem distracted.’
‘I’m good, thanks.’
‘Are you sure?’ Her grey eyes burned into his. ‘Because your energy seems off.’
‘Just a few things I’m sorting through in my head. I’m OK.’
‘Are you worried about Mia?’
‘No! Why should I be?’
‘Isn’t she coming in today for reiki?’
‘Oh, right. I guess so. No. I’m not too worried about it.’
‘You’ll let me know if there’s anything you need? Or any way I can help.’ It didn’t sound like a question.
‘I will. I promise.’ He headed back into the main shop, listening for the familiar, welcoming creaks and squeaks from the floorboards.
But now he was paying attention, he noticed the store felt different…
the air was thicker and there was a sense of something almost like anticipation – as if the shop was somehow holding its breath.
Which was even more of a ridiculous notion than there being any possibility of there ever being anything more than friendship with Mia.
And yet… there was a faint shimmer that seemed to hang in the air that almost looked like it was glowing golden. He rubbed his too tired eyes. It was just dust.
It swirled slightly oddly in the air, almost forming a pattern – a little like watching clouds – but he convinced himself it was just dust. And maybe a little incense smoke.
But mostly dust motes that were catching the light and reflecting it back to him.
Which meant he needed to hoover and clean through the shop – because Ophelia and Rayenne definitely wouldn’t do it.
He turned back towards the kitchen, and his breath caught in his throat: the shimmer was more pronounced there, glimmering as it appeared to shift and curl lazily, like smoke wafting from a fire.
The bowl of crystals that always sat beside the till – usually waiting to be chosen and given away as gifts – glowed so warmly that, for a moment, he thought Ophelia must have hidden one of her sets of battery lights in the bottom.
And the forest-scape painting on the wall appeared to have changed colour, shifting into warmer hues with what looked like blossom picked out on the trees.
He looked at another set of shelves – where some of his biscuits were stacked up, tied with neat bows and labels. When he reached out his hand, the packets seemed to glow – almost in greeting, and he snatched his hand back and watched as they dimmed again.
‘That’s not possible…’ His voice was too loud in the quiet, gently swirling golden hush of the shop.
‘What isn’t?’
He turned at Rayenne’s voice and gasped. The air around her – or maybe the glow – seemed darker, and almost slightly blue as it swirled and twisted, playing with the ends of her hair, and tinting them delicately purple. It was subtle – like looking through an empty glass – but it was there.
He backed away – his heart thudding as thoughts clamoured.
All of the things Ophelia and Rayenne had said, the jokes locals made, the – supposedly inanimate – things that apparently grew legs and moved themselves about…
the ones he’d put down to more absentminded behaviour from his boss. Was that all real?
‘Aiden?’
He realised Rayenne had spoken… had probably been speaking the whole time, but he couldn’t quite find the words to answer her.
Look who’s finally paying attention. It wasn’t speech in the normal sense and it definitely wasn’t Rayenne. But the shape and meaning of the words appeared in his mind without bothering to go through his ears. The voice was silken and smooth, almost indolent.
‘Who said that?’ He looked around Glimmers, and his gaze landed on Mist – lazily cleaning her whiskers in the early morning sunshine in the shop window.
‘Did…? What…?’ He cleared his throat, feeling stupid. ‘Um… Did you say something?’ He couldn’t believe he was asking a cat.
Did you listen?
‘Don’t do that.’
What?
‘That! Don’t answer me. You can’t be answering me.
You’re a cat!’ He backed away further, colliding with the shop counter and knocking over the bowl of crystals and samples sitting there.
They scattered, prisms of light flickering across the floor.
He picked one up: a tiny witch’s jar with black tourmaline, salt and rosemary, sealed with black wax and the rune for protection.
The salt shimmered like crystals while the rosemary glowed softly green. He tightened his fist around it.
Suspicion churned in his stomach as memories surfaced: what had happened with his spiced loaf… how Ophelia had started locking up certain herbs… the zing of energy when he used reiki… the supposedly inanimate objects that wandered around the store. The birds… Mist…
‘This has to be a joke.’
Then why are your hands shaking? And why are you still listening to me?
‘You think it’s time?’ He knew Rayenne wasn’t talking to him.
Obviously.
‘Go fetch Ophelia.’
Aiden didn’t fully hear the reply but felt the grumbling tone.
‘Do you really want to argue with me?’ Rayenne asked, incredibly calmly, and Aiden noticed the glow around her taking on a slightly different hue – if there was anything to see at all, which he wasn’t entirely convinced there was.
But Mist obviously saw something, because after a few moments she stretched and jumped down from the windowsill before slowly, deliberately padding towards the staircase.
She paused by Rayenne and gave her a look as if to say she was only going upstairs because it pleased her to do so – and had nothing to do with what any human wanted. It was just a convenient coincidence.
‘Rayenne, what’s going on?’
She took a deep breath. ‘Do you want to sit down?’
‘Do I need to?’
‘Probably.’ Rayenne grinned. ‘Now, personally I love this bit, but others…’
‘Others can find it a little much.’ Ophelia almost skipped down the stairs, Mist cuddled in her arms. ‘Book nook?’
‘I guess.’ He eyed them nervously before heading to sit down.
‘Is it your turn or mine for this conversation?’ Ophelia asked as she sat Mist on her lap.
‘You found him, you can start.’ Rayenne sat and swished her skirts into a neat half-circle around her feet.
‘Technically it was the store that called him…’
‘Yes, but you kept him.’
‘Will one of you please tell me what’s going on?’
‘Right, sorry.’ Ophelia smiled and leaned forward. ‘Aiden, the things you’ve been seeing… feeling… experiencing… and trying to ignore or explain away with logic and science… You’re not imagining them, and they are real. Very real. And so is magic.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Magic is real.’ Rayenne repeated the words calmly, as if that would make them make more sense.
‘It can’t be.’ Aiden shook his head. ‘This is some sort of joke. Or trick.’
‘Do you feel like you’re being tricked?’ Rayenne asked gently. ‘Your instincts are good, Aiden. Do you feel like we are lying?’
‘No.’ He swallowed hard. ‘But this can’t be real. It’s too insane for words.’
‘I promise you it’s nothing more or less than the simple truth. Real, ordinary, ancient and everyday magic,’ Ophelia explained.
‘But magic doesn’t exist.’
‘Of course it does. The kind that keeps greenery and herbs fresh through winter, and warms and lights this store…’
‘It’s the same magic that helps me to control energy to heal… the same that you’re learning,’ Rayenne added.
‘But that’s not magic. It’s just energy manipulation. That’s basically science… isn’t it?’ He clung to it. That made sense in the real world. The one not rotating on its axis.
Mist made a rude noise, dragging Aiden’s attention back to her. Science, schmience. What we are talking about is far older and more powerful. She met his gaze levelly.
‘What do you mean?’ He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. Or who he was having it with.
You tell him. You enjoy this more than I do.
‘What she means,’ Ophelia explained, ‘is that the magic in Hudsbury, which is all around us, is far older than modern science. The skills and spells and lore we know and work to – the traditions we still honour – date back many centuries. The place we call Hudsbury today was an ancient magical settlement, and we still see that history in the bones of our home now. In most places, people forgot about magic, and it disappeared. But that didn’t happen here – and magic never left.
It wasn’t forgotten, so it remained and faded into the background.
It still hums in the daily lives of those who pay attention.
When you open your eyes – and heart – to it, you’ll see magic everywhere.
It seeped into the fabric and traditions of Hudsbury.
You must have noticed things like the remembrance ribbons in the yew tree. ’