26. A Visit to the Apothecary
TWENTY-SIX
A VISIT TO THE APOTHECARY
Deep within the heart of the forest, bullfrogs sing in perfect harmony as they serenade the moon.
Fireflies blink in waves, creating mesmerizing shows.
High above, migratory birds slip silently through the night sky on transcontinental journeys.
Bees swarm, fish school, and ants march in perfectly timed performances.
No living being is immune to the earth’s unseen natural forces. We wake and sleep, bleed and breed, live and die in a perennial dance with the moon, time, and the tides.
What is all this if not magic?
–EXCERPT FROM THE MUDPUDDLE MANUAL OF NATURAL MAGIC
The brass bells on the door to the apothecary chimed when Maida, Will, and Arthur entered.
The shop was small, neat, and clean. Scrubbed pine floors met whitewashed wooden walls with wainscoting and simple shelving.
The air was redolent with the aromas of camphor and clover, making the interior feel much like a doctor’s office.
The counter at the front was a deep peacock blue topped with a marble slab.
Behind it were still more shelves. They extended to the ceiling, accessible by a rolling ladder.
Tall glass jars of herbs and powders, tiny glass vials containing tinctures, oils, and elixirs, and tins of ointments and balms filled these shelves to the brim.
She wanted to open them up and sniff them all.
A tester bottle with a pump lid sat on the marble counter.
The hand drawn label identified it as honey and lavender hand cream.
A note taped to the front read “Try Me.”
“Can I help—” A middle-aged woman bustled out from the back then froze in her tracks. “It’s you!” she said, staring wide-eyed at Maida, holding a hand to her mouth in a rather old-fashioned gesture. Maida wasn’t sure if the woman was shocked or merely suppressing a burp.
“Good morning, Lucretia,” Arthur said, coolly.
Lucretia tugged at her jacket and adjusted her skirt as she stepped towards them in brisk mincing steps.
The tweedy woolen fabric of her suit looked very itchy to Maida.
Her pointy high-heeled shoes also looked quite uncomfortable.
Everything about her aunt looked pinched. Maida felt a stab of sympathy for her.
“I suppose you are here for the spare key. And I am duty bound to hand it over. Although I can’t see what good it will do you when there’s no house to use it on.” Her gaze skittered across Will and Arthur before landing on Maida, sizing her up. Lucretia pressed her lips together tightly.
“I see you have her hair color and her eyes, but other than that, there’s hardly any resemblance to my sister. If we had bumped into each other on the street, I wouldn’t have noticed you at all. I don’t sense any Lathrop magic in you whatsoever.”
“Do you make your own products here?” Maida ignored the insult. She helped herself to some of the honey and lavender lotion. She traced the bee on the label with one finger, whispering the Latin name for a familiar species. “Xylocopa sonorina.” The giant blue-black bees were one of her favorites.
“What’s that?” Lucretia scowled.
“Nothing. I like your packaging,” Maida answered.
Lucretia patted her honey colored hair. “Thank you. I make everything here and I draw the labels myself.”
“I like to sketch too.” Maida glanced up at her aunt. But if she was hoping for a positive reaction, or some kind of bonding over a shared trait, she was going to be waiting a long, long time.
Lucretia had turned her gaze to Arthur. She was looking at him with a certain repugnance, as if she were being forced to hold her nose. After a moment, she turned back to Maida.
“Don’t get your hopes up, Maida. Even if the house reappears, it doesn’t mean it will let you in.
It might not take kindly to a half blood like you.
If you ask me, the community might be better off without that place.
I know Minerva had a soft spot for the bookstore, but it never should have been open to the public like that.
Especially considering the value of the sensitive items stored in the family Archives.
With all the animalistic riff-raff tromping through that place, it was only a matter of time till something untoward like this happened.
Poor Minerva—” Lucretia reached into her pocket and withdrew a lacey handkerchief.
Arthur’s jaw set into a hard line as he folded his arms against his chest. He exhaled slowly before speaking coolly, in a voice that was utterly devoid of emotion.
“There’s no reason to speak that way about your non-witch neighbors.
In fact, it’s quite unbecoming. Do you even hear yourself, Lucretia? ”
“I do,” the woman met his icy gaze with equal amounts of chill, “I’m not casting aspersions on all of your kind, Arthur.
There are still a few good eggs out there.
I’m just noting that it’s probably for the best if we don’t forget ourselves and get too intimately involved with one another.
” The shop bells tinkled again as someone dropped off a package, but Lucretia was too distracted to notice.
She swatted at something flying near her face.
“No good can come of indiscriminate couplings.” She sneered at Maida.
“Why my sister ever chose to mate with one of those creatures…He didn’t even want?—”
Lucretia didn’t get to complete the sentence. With a shower of bells, the shop door burst open. In strode Buffalo. Taking long, purposeful strides, he marched straight up to the counter. His expression was hard, brows drawn and determined.
“I will never, ever, regret bringing my beautiful daughter into this world.”
“You fancy yourself as quite the hero, don’t you?
” Lucretia’s face was bright red now. Her feet were planted firmly in place, but the tremor in her hand betrayed the brave face she was trying to present.
She couldn’t look Buffalo straight in the eye.
Instead, she cast about for a less formidable opponent, her dark beady eyes settling on Will with a look of disgust. “Let me guess. Next you’ll be wanting me to congratulate you for rescuing this fae abomination? ”
Maida eyed Lucretia, and then her father, cautiously. Buffalo’s eyes were hooded, and Maida knew he was holding something of himself back. Will was staring at the wall, perhaps considering whether he should port out. She wouldn’t blame him if he did. He shouldn’t have to take that kind of abuse.
When Will glanced sideways at Maida’s father, she was surprised to see a flood of tenderness warming Buffalo’s eyes.
She watched as he nodded subtly at Will, as if to say, “I’ve got you.
” Will’s nod in return seemed to say, “I’m not going anywhere.
” The two men had come to some sort of mutual understanding. Will turned back to face Lucretia.
An awkward silence ensued.
Finally, Arthur cleared his throat and spoke in clipped tones. “Let’s get this over with, Lucretia. We’re here for a specific purpose. Do you have any ideas about how we might bring the Mudpuddle back? Any special incantations or rituals you can share?”
Lucretia pursed her lips tighter, and straightened to her full height, seeming to reach a decision.
“No. I’ve fulfilled my duty. I will not waste any more time here,” she said. She spun on her pointy heel. “Good luck and good day!” she said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. Then she flung the velvet pouch over her shoulder and made a beeline for the back room.
The velvet missile flew towards Maida, landing in her hand as if drawn there by a magnet.
“Ummm…” Will was wide-eyed, pointing at Lucretia, who had suddenly stopped in her tracks. She stood frozen a few steps from the door to the back. An enormous purple black bee had affixed itself to the top of her head. It was buzzing up a storm.
“Get it off!” she hissed. “I’m allergic to bees.”
Arthur reached for the lotion bottle on the counter, picking it up and examining it curiously. “Was it my imagination or was there a bee on this label just a few moments ago?”
“Hold still. I’ve got it.” Will vaulted over the counter. He stood behind Lucretia and held out his index finger. The bee immediately crawled onto it.
“It’s just a carpenter bee,” he said. “They rarely sting. Although, this one does seem to have an enormous stinger. Perhaps it’s a rare poisonous variety?” He held the bee up to show off its shiny barb.
Maida could see the sweat beading on Lucretia’s forehead. “Take it away!” she whimpered.
Calmly, Will walked back around the counter, crossed to the front door and released it outdoors.
“How did you do that?” Lucretia whispered.
“Bees love abominations.” Will smiled a tight-lipped smile. “Drawn to us like honey.”
“I wasn’t talking about that,” Lucretia hissed. “I was talking about the purple bee. It was printed on there,” she pointed at the lotion, “and then it was attacking me.” Lucretia narrowed her eyes at Maida.
“You’re not quite what you seem, are you, Miss Maida Westabrook? What kind of spell was that? Were you trying to kill me with my own products? And what about Minerva? Did you do something to her, too?”
“What? No! I…” Maida stammered and backed up. Surely she hadn’t conjured the bee, had she? Much as she’d taken an instant dislike to her aunt, she didn’t want to kill her.
“Something similar happened at The Bunny Hole.” Arthur set the lotion back on the counter. There was a large blank spot at the center of the label where the bee had been. Arthur looked from Maida to the other men.
“I, I don’t know what to say. I don’t seem to have any control of it. Stuff like this has just been happening ever since I found the locket.” Maida’s hand went back to her throat.
Lucretia’s eyes bugged in shock at the sight of the silver pendant in Maida’s hand. She gazed imperiously at Arthur and pointed an accusatory finger at Maida. Maida flinched. She half expected a bolt of lightning to burst out of her aunt’s extended digit.
“She stole Grandmere Lathrop’s locket!” Lucretia accused. “That locket has been missing for hundreds of years!”
“I found it on the beach!” Maida huffed, indignantly. “I’ve never been to Primrose Court before. To be quite honest, if the rest of your family is anything like you, I can see why my mother left here.”
“Give it to me!” Lucretia rushed out from behind the corner to lunge at Maida.
“I will not!” Maida held up her hands, prepared to defend herself and the locket, but she needn’t have bothered.
The moment Lucretia’s fingers reached for it, the locket retaliated, shooting a plume of silvery threads that floated in the air like jellyfish tentacles.
They swayed and wrapped themselves around her aunt’s fingers.
Lucretia yelped and yanked her arm away.
She cradled it as she whimpered at the offense.
“Now she is attacking me! Arrest her, Mr. Hart!” Lucretia sniveled.
“Even if I had the authority to make an arrest, I’d hardly arrest my own client,” Arthur said.
“She’s a liar and a murderer! She’s been hiding her gifts. And you’ve been a party to this! Was that your plan all along?” Lucretia’s voice was shrill now as she turned back to Buffalo. She pulled out a slim birch wand and held it aloft, pointed at Buffalo.
“Put down your wand, Lucretia,” Arthur intoned. He didn’t seem particularly worried about the threat. Maida wondered if he was being a bit cavalier. Lucretia’s wand swayed like a switch. The tip was glowing an ominous shade of green.
“I think the Society would be interested in hearing more about what these creatures are up to, Mr. Hart. You are in over your head.”
“Actually.” Arthur pulled a notice from his pocket. The scroll floated over to Lucretia and unfurled itself in front of her. A large silvery seal glowed at the center. “I’m here on official Society business. I don’t think the Director would look kindly on your interference.”
“Your accusations are quite inflammatory, Lucretia. I’d hold my tongue if I were you.” Buffalo squared his shoulders, glaring at the woman.
A wrinkle appeared in Lucretia’s brow, but she slid the wand back into her breast pocket. Her eyes welled with frustrated tears.
“If you did anything to Minerva…so help me! You’ve no right to hold her as a prisoner like that. You’d better let her out of there!” Lucretia demanded.
“Surely you don’t think Minerva’s inside that locket?” Buffalo looked at Lucretia skeptically.
“Lucretia,” Arthur questioned, “why do you think Minerva is trapped in Maida’s locket?”
“Papa Lathrop made those lockets to protect our family from harm. They were a sort of insurance policy. The spells were in place—waiting to be activated at the first sign of danger. My aunt simply disappeared without a trace. She didn’t even leave a note, which is very unlike her.
And I don’t think I should need to mention it again, but Maida had everything to gain from Minerva’s disappearance.
I bet if we opened it up right now, we’d see Minerva’s photo.
Wouldn’t we, Maida?” Lucretia smugly ticked off the evidence on her fingers like an amateur investigator who’s cracked the tough case that her more qualified colleagues had fumbled.
“Bet you didn’t count on the house disappearing too, though, did you? ”
“Minerva’s photo is not in the locket,” Maida said quietly. “I assure you. Do you want me to show you?”
“Maida, are you sure you should do that?” her father asked. “Didn’t the locket shock you before when you tried to show it to Will?”
“It did,” Maida said. “But I don’t think it will now.”
Cautiously, she slid her hand along the side of the locket and found the clasp. This time, when she pressed the latch, the locket sprang right open with no resistance whatsoever.
“See for yourself,” Maida said, holding out the locket. “There’s not a person in here. Just a house.”
Lucretia squinted her eyes and screwed up her face. “Is this supposed to be a joke? There’s not a house there.”
Maida tilted the locket back up towards herself and looked down. Lucretia was right. The place where the house had been was blank. In its place was a mirror. She was staring at her own face.
Suddenly, the door flew open again and a young woman burst in. Maida recognized Arthur’s daughter, Rosie. The girl dropped her packages by the door.
“It’s back, Dad! It just appeared out of nowhere!” Rosie shouted breathlessly. “Thank the goddesses! And you! You did it! You brought the Mudpuddle back!”
Then she ran to her father and flung her arms gratefully around him.