The bell above the door chimed as June stepped over the threshold into Alistair’s apothecary. She inhaled the mingled scents of rosemary and sage, the fragrance grounding her after the whirlwind of her first herbalism lesson with Lydia. The rows of wooden shelves laden with jars of dried herbs, the soft glow of the crystal lamps, and the gentle hum of a hidden melody all whispered promises of solace to her restless spirit.
Alistair really knows how to enchant a storefront, she thought.
June ran a finger along the polished counter, feeling the thrum of latent magic that seemed to seep from the very walls of the shop. She rounded the counter, where the computer awaited, ready for a day of updating the online store.
“Ah, good morning,” Alistair said as he emerged from the back room. “How did your first lesson with Lydia go?”
June turned to face him, her fingers pausing on the keyboard. “It was incredible,” she admitted, a smile blossoming across her features. “I never knew how much power lay in the simplest of plants. I mean, I knew,” she gestured to the candles and soaps displayed across from her, “but there’s way more to it than I realised.”
“The wonders of the natural world are boundless,” Alistair agreed, leaning against the counter, arms folded. He peered at her over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses. “And don’t be fooled thinking they’re just plants. There’s an energy, a vital essence that courses through every leaf and stem. They’re as alive as we are, you know.”
June’s smile widened. “I’m excited to learn more. It’s like cooking, but way more interesting.”
Alistair chuckled, his warm laugh echoing through the small shop. “That it is.”
“I mean, there’re healing potions and poisons and antidotes, but stuff to enhance magic, for love and luck, and dreams. There seems to be a potion for everything…” She trailed off, wondering if she should ask about the one thing that’d been bothering her since the day before. “Lydia mentioned something about spirit walking.” She looked up at Alistair, trying to gauge his reaction. “Is it really possible to talk to spirits? Could I… Could I speak with my parents again?”
Alistair’s demeanour shifted noticeably, the easygoing air replaced by a sudden gravity that pressed down on the room like a dense fog. He removed his glasses, cleaning them with a handkerchief he retrieved from his pocket, taking a moment before he answered.
“June,” he began, his voice holding a cautionary note that she’d long since learned to take seriously. “Spirit walking is a dangerous path, full of more dangers than rewards. It’s not something we teach lightly—or at all, to most.”
June felt a chill despite the warmth of the apothecary. “But why? If there’s a chance—”
“Because it’s risky,” Alistair interrupted, gaze meeting hers with a sternness that bordered on foreboding. “Attempting to commune with the dead can lead you into realms you’re unprepared for. It’s not only futile, but it’s also potentially harmful. There are entities that can deceive and manipulate the living. Even the most experienced witches avoid it.”
“Spirit is the fifth element, isn’t it?” June swallowed hard, absorbing his words. “Is that why Elaine never taught me about it during our elemental magic lessons?”
“Elaine knew the importance of establishing strong foundations,” Alistair explained, his voice softening. “The element of spirit is complex and intangible, vastly different from the others. It requires a deeper understanding and respect for the forces at play. Spirit isn’t an element that can be manipulated like the others. Spirit… Well, Mirabel will probably guide you through some of it when it comes time for her lessons.”
“Oh,” June murmured, nodding slowly as a solemn understanding dawned upon her. “Spirit isn’t tangible. It’s like divination.”
“Yes,” Alistair nodded, his eyes softening as he relaxed, the air gradually lightening. “Divination, spirit walking, and many other forms of magic dealing with the ethereal are all about interpretation and intuition, not control.”
June sat quietly for a moment, digesting this new perspective. She hadn’t thought about it that way before.
“Remember, June,” Alistair continued, putting his glasses back on. “The veil between worlds is thin, and what lies beyond isn’t always meant to be disturbed. Some doors are better left closed.”
June looked down at her hands, the potential for connection to her past suddenly feeling like a dangerous wish.
“Besides,” he continued, his voice lowering, “they may not even be there. Spirits drift away from the veil—also known as crossing over. They go to a place where they can be reborn. At least, it’s assumed that’s what happens. It’s not for the living to understand until it’s our time.”
Overwhelmed, June stared blankly at the mosaic of loose herbs and potions, their varied colours dulled under the weight of her thoughts. The apothecary suddenly seemed claustrophobic, each shelf and bottle whispering secrets she was yet to understand.
“Okay,” Alistair declared. “Let’s open some windows. Get some of this scented air out into the street. It encourages customers, you know.”
June chuckled, her heart lightening. “Oh, I’m sure it does.”
As she returned to work, punching in inventory numbers into the computer, the display of wind chimes at the front rang as a gentle breeze whispered through the half-open windows.
The air was thick with the scent of sage and sandalwood, calming her nerves. Bottles lined the walls, their contents shimmering in the dim light like captured fragments of rainbows. But even amidst the tranquil clutter of crystal vials and leather-bound books, June’s thoughts still churned.
So, she probably wasn’t able to talk to her parent’s spirits, at least not in the way she’d initially hoped. And there were other worlds beyond her grasp, places where spirits crossed over, reborn anew. The thought gnawed at her, yet she felt strangely relieved, hoping that’s where her parents had gone.
She spent the next few hours in a trance-like state, her mind wandering to her parents and the life they led before she was left alone. The laughter that once filled their home echoed in her ears, a bittersweet memory, morphed into the giggling that used to echo through the streets of Stonebridge when she and Harriet hung out in the town square after school, bound by innocent friendship. They’d been inseparable—the two of them against the world. Her heart twisted as she realised how far they’d drifted apart since, and how much she’d had to keep from her.
It wasn’t that difficult to keep magic secret when we were kids, she thought. So, why is it now?
A pang of sadness nestled within her as she recalled Harriet’s wide, mischievous eyes, her laughter bright enough to light up the darkest of rooms. And even Lucas—his gruff demeanour that couldn’t quite hide the warmth underneath. June missed them both more than she would admit, even to herself. Her relationships with them were supposed to be a life away from magic, but magic seemed to seep into everything she did…for better and worse. Mostly worse.
The bell above the apothecary’s door rang out, cutting sharply through her daydream. June looked up to see Harriet pushing the door open with her hip, carrying a stack of papers and rolled up posters. When she saw June behind the counter, her expression dropped.
“Oh,” Harriet said, her lip curling slightly. “I thought you weren’t working today.”
“The website,” June began, her voice wavering. “It’s a total mess.”
Harriet didn’t acknowledge her as she placed a stack of flyers on the counter. The topmost one proclaimed the annual Stonebridge Book Fair, a whimsical illustration of books taking flight adorning the heading.
“Oh,” June said, her voice cautious as she picked up a flyer. “You’re organising a book fair?”
“Yeah,” Harriet replied, though her tone carried an edge of sarcasm. “Would’ve been easier with an extra pair of hands, but I guess we’re all busy with our own…secrets.” She shot June a pointed look.
June felt the sting of the unspoken accusation. “I’m—” She stopped herself, knowing full well excuses wouldn’t bridge the gap.
“Save it, June. We both know actions speak louder than words,” Harriet said, her gaze softening for a moment before she turned to leave. “See you around.”
As the bell above the door chimed Harriet’s departure, June watched her retreating form with a sense of helplessness. The posters on the counter seemed to mock her, a symbol of friendship and normalcy she’d lost somewhere along her path to magical self-discovery.
She’d tried to have it all, and failed miserably.
“June?” Alistair’s voice cut through the thickening silence. “Who was that?”
She forced a smile, but it was brittle, ready to shatter. “Just Harriet dropping off some flyers,” she said, gesturing toward the stack with a half-hearted motion.
“Ah,” he said, understanding dawning in his eyes. “It’s never easy, is it? Maintaining friendships when there’s so much more to consider.”
“More like impossible,” June murmured, tracing the edge of a flyer with her finger.
“Perhaps not impossible, but certainly challenging.” Alistair leaned against the counter, his gaze thoughtful. “If you want to repair what’s broken, you’ll need to draw a clear line between your two lives.”
“But how can I just separate myself from them? They’re my friends—were my friends.” She groaned and let her head fall into her hands, her fingers spearing through her blonde hair.
“Stonebridge has always been a place of balance,” Alistair reminded her gently. “And we, as its guardians, must make choices for the greater good, not just for our own desires.”
“Even if it means being alone?” June asked, the fear of isolation wrapping itself around her heart.
“Being a witch doesn’t mean you have to be alone. It means understanding the power of sacrifice, of knowing when to hold on and when to let go.”
“Yeah,” she said through a heavy sigh, feeling the truth of his words. “I guess I have a lot to think about.”
He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he returned to his work.
June stared at the computer screen, the spreadsheet blurring before her eyes. She couldn’t continue this way. Avoidance was a temporary solution at best, and it was only widening the gap between her and those she cared about. With Harriet, there had always been an easy companionship. And Lucas… Lucas with his rough exterior and unexpectedly gentle heart. It hurt to think of the missed chance of something more that she’d had with him.
Perhaps I won’t ever have their full trust again, she thought, but maybe we can find a way to at least stay friendly.
“Volunteering at the book festival,” June murmured, an idea beginning to form. It’s perfect. Neutral ground, common interests…and I can support Harriet.
A sense of purpose filled her empty heart. She’d go to the book festival, not just as a volunteer but as a friend trying to repair what she’d broken. And while she was there, maybe she could find a moment to talk to Lucas too, away from The Corner and the gossip mill.
Determined, she picked up the festival flyer again and read through the details.
Outside, the sky had taken on an opalescent sheen, the springtime air rich with pollen and hope. Around her, shelves lined with jars and bottles cast long shadows, and the scent of sage and chamomile infused the air, Alistair’s enchantment reacting to the balm she needed. A shiver seemed to vibrate up through the floor, into her feet, and through her body.
Bridging the gap. Of course! If she couldn’t spirit walk, then maybe there was another way to reach out to her parents.
“Learn more about the element of spirit,” June whispered, scrolling past images of crystal vials and dried herbs. Could she wait for her lessons with Mirabel? Patience wasn’t one of her strong suits, and she still had warding to cover, too.
But if she could reach out to the spirit realm, past the veil, then maybe what she found might help her accept her past. The deaths of her parents, the shadows that clung to the edges of Stonebridge, they were all threads she needed to understand. If she could weave them into something tangible, then maybe it would help her shape her future into something that was more balanced. Then she could really live the best of both worlds.
That’s a lot of bridges to build, she thought.
The shop bell tinkled, signalling the departure of another customer, and in the quiet that followed, June felt the weight of her reality. She was a powerful witch, yes, but also just a young woman trying to find her way. Her life was difficult to navigate, but she couldn’t avoid it any longer. Not if she wanted to move forward.
As the digital clock on the computer flickered to signal the passing hour, June logged off the website’s backend. She rose from the chair, feeling the familiar tingle of energy that ran under her skin, a constant reminder of the magic at her command.
“Time to research,” she murmured, smoothing down her rumpled shirt. “And volunteer.”
June took a deep breath, letting the enchanted scents of the apothecary fill her lungs and steady her heart. There was hope there, amidst the tang of herbs and the soft glow of the LED downlights.
And a clear path for once in her tumultuous life.