Chapter Seven
Raven’s plan for me to speak to Silas hinged on one thing:
Pie.
Not exactly a pie, mind you. A cherry rose pie bar.
The bars are made with enchanted cherries and rose water that can turn your entire outlook on the world, well, rosy for lack of a better word. They shape your focus so that you’re looking on the brighter side of things.
The plan was simple, according to Raven – who gave me an in-depth run through before dropping me off to work – I’d muster the courage to approach Silas during his closing shift at the Maple Mart today, and I’d offer him a bar, saying it was left over from today’s stock.
He’d eat it, and then he would look at me from behind those rose-coloured lenses.
And maybe it would make all the other times I stumbled in front of him look endearing.
Maybe it would make speaking to him easier.
Was I sure it would work? No. But I had no better ideas of my own.
Armed with a plan, I went straight to the Wishing Well kitchens – with Ivy’s approval on the bake – and got to work.
Time slipped past me as I worked on the enchanted bars, and once I’d popped them in the oven I went to go help Ivy out at the front.
But as I approached the kitchen door, I heard the low murmuring of voices.
I recognized my mum’s voice. Not a total oddity. She and Ivy had gone to school together and have always been pretty close.
‘Frost, Inspector Vale, Diya Jaan, Louise Mellow, Luna Star and Serene Pearl,’ Mum recited, sounding exhausted. ‘They careen between writing sonnets, crying and calling out for their supposed beloveds.’
Ivy winced. ‘Yeah, I’ve been getting a lot of text poetry from Vale. Some of it’s not awful, if that’s any consolation.’
Mum groaned, pressing her face into her palms. ‘I’m up to my ears in phone calls and complaints. People are demanding that the curse be broken faster. I have to keep giving everyone the same line: “I’ve got a curse breaker working on it.” How much more can I give?’
My heart ached in my chest, the guilt gnawing in my stomach; I didn’t really think about how much stress Mum must be under with six people in the town cursed by a love spell.
And I can’t even imagine how the cursed must be feeling themselves; how exhausting it would be to be yearning for someone who might not love you back.
‘You’re doing your best,’ Ivy soothed, and I watched as she wrapped up a date-and-peanut-butter energy ball for Mum in a paper bag. ‘That’s all anyone can ask of you. Nothing more.’
Mum smiled at Ivy, still tired but a little softened. ‘Thanks, Ivy. But aside from talking your ear off, I did come here for a reason.’
‘I’m assuming it’s about Maya?’ Ivy asked, and I felt myself still against the door.
‘It is,’ Mum agreed, and then sighed. ‘I just want to check what her chances of getting the apprenticeship actually are. I know she’s good at culinary magic, but her spellcasting otherwise is pretty weak.’
I felt warmth build in my cheeks.
Pretty weak.
‘Maya’s great,’ Ivy said, gently. ‘Yes, her spellcasting out of the kitchen isn’t as strong, but she’s a stellar kitchen witch.
I trust her with my kitchen and spellcasting in there.
As long as she doesn’t betray that trust, she’s the best candidate I’m observing for my apprenticeship.
’ Then she added, with a little laugh, ‘And if she makes sure she doesn’t suggest any more wild bakes.
Did I tell you about the moonlit blueberry muffins she pitched me? ’
My cheeks warmed at the memory of when I told Ivy about my idea: a batch of wild-blueberry muffins, mixed in with charmed moon-silver flower petals.
The idea had been unfurling in my mind, ever since I saw Silas walk into potions class looking haggard from his last shifting under the full moon.
I overheard him talking with friends, saying that he loved the wild, free sensation of his werewolf side, but he always awoke feeling like his entire body had been rung out.
The moonlit blueberry muffins would be enchanted to cleanse the body of aches, pains and a clouded head that came from being under the lunar moon.
The spell came from one of the grimoires of the library, a testy little book that almost snapped my finger off.
Ivy had gently brushed the idea off, saying it was too risky to try in her little bakery of joy. I tried not to feel hurt by the dismissal, reminding myself that I wasn’t even Ivy’s apprentice – yet.
‘Thanks, Ivy,’ Mum said, gratefully. ‘I just want her to be safe and happy. She doesn’t need to worry herself with the kinds of complex spells Rani does, or even the ones I have to do.’
Her words should have warmed me, but all I could hear was my mother wanting me to be a witch who only did basic spells, or kitchen magic – spells that only existed in the confines of a dessert – always under the supervision of Ivy.
I wanted, desperately, to prove her wrong.
If she ever found out that I was the cause of the rogue love spell, everything she believed about me would be confirmed.
I stopped listening and stepped back from the door, mind racing.
I needed to end this curse, but I also needed my apprenticeship at the end of the academic year.
Ivy said I had the apprenticeship as long as she still trusted me; what would she do if she found out I took a sabbatical from my part-time position to go work for another bakery – no matter how badly it was doing?
I wanted to break down at the thought of trying to juggle it all, but I couldn’t. I’d break the curse, help Orion’s friend, never let Ivy or my mother find out, get the apprenticeship and find my soulmate, aka Silas.
I had to, because the alternative was too scary to even consider.
With renewed determination, I stepped on to the shop floor. I found Ivy dealing with a couple of customers, before the shop emptied out; the lull of the afternoon shift coming to a close.
‘Hey, Ivy?’ I asked, as I approached her. ‘Do you have a minute?’
She gave me a bright smile that made the guilt in my stomach intensify. ‘Sure, what’s up?’
‘I was wondering if we could talk about my shifts.’
The Maple Mart is usually busy in the evenings – either with parents who have picked up their kids from school or people off work who are doing their grocery shop.
But, like Raven said, it was likely the only moment I would get to speak to Silas without one of his friends around him.
At school, it would be near impossible; Silas was always surrounded by his rugby teammates or his pack.
Nine werewolves made up the Moon pack, but Silas was the youngest – and the sweetest.
Even now, as I watched him from across the Maple Mart floor, he was helping an elderly witch carry all her groceries to her cart. He was just so nice. It made my heart clench with wanting – to be with someone who was that kind.
‘Is that a bar of pie in your basket, dear?’
I jumped, turning to find Granny Fable standing behind me. She had a basket on one arm, her cane in the other, and her white wings were wide open today. She wore a smile on her face, one that slyly said she’d seen me staring at Silas, and I felt my face go crimson.
‘Y-Yes, Granny Fable. This is a pie bar,’ I stuttered.
The old woman assessed me, eyes shrewd. ‘I didn’t know the Maple Mart sold pie bars.’
‘It was left over from the Wishing Well,’ I said simply.
Granny Fable nodded, understandingly. ‘And are you here to buy something?’
‘Yes,’ I looked wildly around the aisle we were standing in, slapping my hand against the dog food. ‘We needed this.’
‘Don’t you have a cat, dear?’ Granny Fable asked, a twinkle entering her gaze.
‘Right.’ I nodded, desperately searching for anything that would end this interaction. ‘But Jinx acts like a dog, so we just … indulge.’
Stupid. That was so, incredibly stupid. Granny Fable’s mouth twitched at the corner, and I quickly tried to change the subject before she pressed any further.
‘Sofia!’ I exclaimed, suddenly relieved. ‘Sofia, how – how is she? Is she settling in well?’
Granny Fable’s expression changed, softening into a smile that was a little more fond and less mischievous. ‘She is. Tomorrow is her first day of school.’
‘Oh, how nice! If I see her in class, I’ll save her a seat.’
Granny Fable reached out to pinch my cheek. ‘You’ve always been sweeter than sugar, Maya.’
I felt my cheeks go warm with the praise. ‘Guess I must’ve learned it from you.’
Granny Fable smiled, and she bumped her basket on mine along the way, giving me that sly smile again. ‘Well, as much as I love swapping compliments in the dog-food aisle, I should get going. Wouldn’t want to disturb you from your shopping any longer, dear.’
I tried to stop my cheeks from flushing again, waiting for Granny Fable to turn a corner before I began looking at Silas’s till. His line was shorter now, only five people.
This would be the best time to strike. I forced myself to breathe deep, looked down at the pie in my basket and strengthened my resolve. I needed to do this – needed to talk to Silas. To make him think of me as someone other than the klutz who always spilled something on him.
So, even though every part of me wanted to turn around and flee, I made my way across the shop floor. Before I stepped into the line for his till, I grabbed a couple of items so it would look like I’d come here for more than just a chance to talk to Silas.
The closer I got to him, though, the more nervous I felt myself getting. It would’ve been easier if Silas hadn’t been so lovely standing at his till – weren’t cashiers supposed to be miserable?
The sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows made the gold of his hair gleam even brighter than usual and the blue of his eyes stand out.
And that dimple. It was carved deep into his cheek as he tried to make the baby elf, sat in a customer’s trolley, laugh. How could one werewolf be this perfect?