28. Settling In
TWENTY-EIGHT
SETTLING IN
Straddling the realm between science and magic, we find the phenomenon colloquially called “The calm before the storm.” It is more than a meteorological event.
The calm before the storm is a breath held in anticipation.
If you listen to the silence, you will hear whispers, wingbeats, and the quiet stirrings of creatures who are better suited to sense these shifts.
–EXCERPT FROM THE MUDPUDDLE MANUAL OF NATURAL MAGIC
Maida stood in the Mudpuddle, taking stock of her handiwork. She appreciated the design of the shop, but was also determined to put her own stamp on the house she had inherited.
The heart of the bookshop was a large open area that had been fashioned by combining the home’s original parlor and drawing rooms. Floor-to-ceiling wooden bookcases lined the entire room.
Wooden ladders attached to brass rails allowed access to the highest shelves.
Deep drawers beneath the shelves held additional copies of books, assorted supplies, and seasonal display items.
The area was divided into three distinct zones. These were a sort of command-central station for the bookstore, a small cafe, and a reading nook, tucked in the turret off to one side.
A sturdy, horseshoe-shaped wooden countertop formed an island on the side closest to the entrance foyer.
Maida guessed this was the area where her great aunt Minerva had stationed herself to greet customers, answer questions, and ring up sales.
A large ancient cash register with shiny brass keys held pride of place atop the countertop.
The contraption sprang to life as Maida touched it.
Humming, clacking, and whirring, the keys depressed themselves rapidly and rhythmically, producing a tune.
Suddenly, the cash drawer flew open. There was a note inside, printed on receipt paper. Maida unfolded and read it.
Welcome Maida. You’re going to do just fine.
She smiled and tucked the paper into her apron pocket.
The other half of the large space housed the cafe.
Maida couldn’t wait to see the bakery case full of staples like blueberry muffins and croissants.
Tall glass canisters full of roast coffee beans flanked the brass espresso and cappuccino machines.
A marble-topped coffee bar awaited frothy drinks.
There was even a small cheese refrigerator, with a collection of gourmet cheeses behind the counter.
And there were a generous number of seats.
A collection of mismatched, upholstered armchairs and quilt covered wing chairs cozied up to small painted tables.
She was delighted to see the tabletops were decorated with assorted game boards.
She could see why Rosie and her friends enjoyed getting together here for game night.
There was more seating and a larger circular table in the round reading nook, which she guessed was a coveted spot to gather. The large windows offered a great view of the front yard and the street beyond.
Everything about the Mudpuddle was cozy, comfortable and well loved, but still in perfect working order.
She could not fault Minerva for her upkeep of the place.
Nothing appeared to be broken or run-down.
It was nearly perfect. Just the sort of place Maida could picture spending an afternoon curled up with one of her favorite novels and a steaming cup of cocoa.
Maida didn’t want to change much about the Mudpuddle. But there were some small changes that she couldn’t resist implementing.
For example, she’d rearranged the books displayed in the main area when she discovered that the shelves closest to the register were packed with highly technical and obscure-sounding tomes.
She suspected that the average customer was not looking for Chloromancy: The Arcane Mechanics of Photosynthetic Power.
Nor was The Ley line Nexus: Mapping and Manipulating Earth’s Energetic Vascular System topping any charts—though she did set the second title aside to show Will.
Instead, she thought she would prioritize some impulse items and feel-good titles.
She hoped those in search of headier stuff would have the patience to search the stacks.
It was her wish that customers would stick around long enough to explore the other rooms full of books.
And of course everyone was welcome to enjoy the free lending library on the wraparound porch.
Maida could get lost exploring the eight smaller rooms towards the back of the house.
These rooms contained books on just about every subject under the sun.
There was a room dedicated to fiction, folklore, and fairy tales.
Another held books with recipes, spells, and instructions for crafting magical feasts.
Then there were the rooms full of books on botany, animal husbandry, travel, and all kinds of crafts and a formal reading room dedicated to magical naturalism and the history of magical folk.
Even the bathroom walls were papered with the pages of books, enchanted to reflect the reader’s preferences, according to Arthur’s daughter Rosie.
One could not choose their bathroom reading, the house simply delivered it to them.
“It takes some time for the house to get to know you, but you’ll find the selections get better each time you visit the privy,” Rosie promised. She’d also warned Maida that many people liked to keep their bathroom reading private, so it was impolite to ask anyone about it.
Maida picked out a selection of tarot decks, crystal divination books, and palmistry guides and placed them on the two shelves nearest to the register. On a whim, she cleared a third shelf, which she filled with her own favorite romantic and fantasy novels.
One other small change Maida instituted was to set up a wrapping station, inspired by one of her favorite book shops in California.
She loved how they wrapped the books in colorful tissue paper and cellophane, added confetti, and tied it with ribbons.
It made every purchase feel like a special gift.
This was precisely how Maida wanted the patrons at the Mudpuddle to feel when they shopped in her bookshop.
Maida put the books she’d pulled on a cart to return them to their shelves. In the reading room, she ran a finger against the spines of the beautiful leather-bound gilt embossed titles. Surely there was a book in this collection that would help her understand and master her own gifts.
So far, her attempts to recreate the type of incidents that had happened at the apothecary and the donut shop had yielded no results.
She’d felt silly doodling butterflies in her sketchbook and willing them to flutter from the page.
She’d felt even more foolish when nothing happened.
One time, she’d tried clutching the locket in one hand as she drew with the other.
Again, nothing. Maida still couldn’t figure out what to think or do in order to make the magic happen.
She searched and searched through the stacks but none of the books in the shop seemed to have the answers.
Feeling frustrated as she was, she wasn’t particularly in the mood to chat with Zani, but she ran back to the heart of the bookshop to answer the heavy old phone as soon as she heard it ring once, then twice.
“I don’t understand it,” she complained. “I may actually be Ordinary after all.”
“I think you’re trying too hard,” Zani said. “You’re sabotaging yourself. You have to just let the magic flow.”
“Easy for you to say,” Maida complained. “You were probably born with a magical machete in your hand and the inborn ability to vanquish demons with a subtle twitch of your nose.”
“If only.” Zani laughed. “It took me years to master my demon vanquishing twitch. It comes in handy at Ordinary bars occasionally.”
“The thing is, you had somebody to train you and guide you and teach you about your magic,” Maida said. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this alone.”
“I had help for sure,” Zani acknowledged. “But try to imagine a coven full of opinionated witches each with a different plan and agenda for me arguing over the right way to do everything. I couldn’t even get dressed in the morning without six of my aunties telling me my outfit was wrong.”
“Is that why you attended an Ordinary school for college?” Maida asked.
“Oh yeah. The aunties were not thrilled with that decision. But I needed to spend some time on my own and get away from all of those voices before they took up permanent residency in my head. I isolated myself from the magical world to prioritize my own true passions.”
“That must have been hard for you,” Maida commiserated. She’d always envied Zani’s freedom—nobody tying her down or telling her what to do. She could see now that she’d been very mistaken.
“It was actually a lot easier than living at home. I had a fantastic roommate.”
“I miss those days sometimes.”
“Has the solicitor moved in with you yet?” Zani was not doing a very good job of disguising her curiosity about Arthur Hart. “I’ve heard he’s quite handsome?”
“He’s just doing his job. There are still some issues with the paperwork because of my aunt being missing. Plus, my father doesn’t want me to live here alone,” Maida explained. “He thinks it’s not safe.”
“Well, I agree with that,” Zani said. “I imagine it would be nice to have some company. When is he coming?”
“Arthur and his daughter Rosie are actually moving in today,” Maida said. “I’m so grateful for their help.”
“How old is his daughter? Sixteen? Lucky kid!” Zani exclaimed. “I don’t think you understand how special the Mudpuddle is. I would have given anything to live there at her age. What an adventure for her!”
Maida pictured Zani sitting in her hotel room at some quaint inn perched on the edge of a cliff in the most remote village, located in the middle of nowhere.
She’d only been half-joking about the machete.
At the very least, Zani was probably sleeping with a dagger under her pillow and a can of mace in her pocket.
“So tell me more about this mysterious mission,” Maida asked. “And don’t leave out the details you’d normally gloss over. I want the whole story, now.”
“Well, currently I’m working on recovering Catherine de’ Medici’s bloodstone amulet.
I’ve been tracking the vampires who stole it for weeks.
I’m super close now. I’ll probably be infiltrating their nest next week, actually.
Don’t freak out if you don’t hear from me for a few days.
Mmph…that’s an exquisite piece of chocolate.
” Zani paused for a moment, taking a bite of something.
She then washed it down with what Maida imagined was hot tea with a shot of spicy brandy—Zani’s signature evening drink.
“By the way, I found some really gorgeous local pottery here. Do you want me to pick up some mugs for the bookshop?”
“That would be lovely,” Maida said. “But more importantly, vampires?! For real? Are you sure there isn’t anyone else who could infiltrate the vampire nest and collect the amulet for you?”
“I’m afraid not.” Zani sighed. “That’s why I’m paid so well to do what I do. Don’t fret Maida. I’ve been at this for years.”
“Perhaps I was better off not knowing…” Maida twirled the long phone cord around her wrist, stretching and unstretching the coils as she considered this. “What do people want these things for? Is there much of a resale market for stolen magical objects?”
She imagined there would be, but it was hard to picture who was doing the buying and selling.
“Of course!” Zani said. “I mostly work with museums sanctioned by the Society, but there are collectors all over the world who will pay top dollar for mystical artifacts. It’s always been a weird market.
But lately it’s gotten weirder. Items are getting harder and harder to come by. I can’t figure it out.”
The light shifted and a ray of sunshine streamed through the stained-glass windows, painting a rainbow of colors across the floor. Maida stood and leaned forward to check the clock on the mantel in the foyer. It was nearly ten a.m. and Arthur and Rosie would arrive soon.
“I’ve got to go in a minute,” Zani said. “I’m having cocktails with a local madame who wants to introduce me to her ‘influential gentleman friends.’” Maida could hear the air quotes in Zani’s voice. “And by that I mean I think she’s planning to put me on the menu.”
“No! Zani!” Maida gasped. She had always suspected her friend’s job was far more dangerous than she let on but having her suspicions confirmed in such lurid detail was still shocking.
“Don’t worry, I’ve been dealing with opportunists like her since I was a toddler. I just have to show her she’d be better off serving the vampires to me than vice versa. Easy-peasy.”
“Please stay in touch?” Maida begged. “I’m totally confident in your skills, but I will still worry about you. Much more so now that I know what you’re really up to.”
“You know, that’s kind of sweet,” Zani admitted. “It’s nice to have somebody who worries about you. And likewise. I have complete faith in you. But keep me posted. Especially about Arthur Hart.”
Through the window, Maida could make out the father and daughter pair walking towards the Mudpuddle. Arthur was dragging two suitcases behind him and Rosie was carrying something in a large case.
“Love you, Zani, talk to you soon. Be safe!” Maida said before hanging up the call. Then she went out to the porch to greet her company.