June’s blood hummed as she strolled through the cobbled streets of Stonebridge, the remnants of the cleansing spell still tingling in her fingertips. The afternoon was warm, the air sweet with pollen and the rich scent of cut grass.
In the aftermath of the poison the Shadow’s Embrace had spread through town, the world looked different. The ever green of the Lake District seemed brighter, the sunlight more golden, and the quaint old-English charm of the place she called home seemed to sparkle like a gilded page out of an old storybook.
Shopkeepers dusted off their awnings with more enthusiasm than before, children’s laughter echoed as they hurried home from school, and neighbours exchanged cheerful greetings, stopping to chat. It was a sight better than the black-eyed frenzy that’d overtaken them only two days before. No more road rage, customers being ejected from shops, and even the bakery seemed to be back up and running, the broken windows repaired.
But despite the serenity of the afternoon bustle, there lingered a threatening undercurrent that made the magic in June’s blood hiss and spit like a spooked cat. She couldn’t shake the sense of unease that gnawed at her, wondering if the witch who worked against her lurked somewhere amongst all of this wholesome charm, watching and waiting…
June shook her head and turned onto a narrow lane fringed with blossoming cherry trees, their pink petals dancing in the soft breeze. In the distance, she saw Lydia’s cottage, which sat nestled on the outskirts where the town surrendered to the surrounding forest.
As she stepped into the garden, she smiled as she saw that the plants, once withered and choked by dark tendrils of magic, now stood green and strong.
“Lydia?” June called. “Are you out here?”
The bushes rustled and Lydia appeared on the path, smiling as she saw her visitor. She gestured toward a cluster of bellflowers.
June brushed her fingers against the velvety petals. “It’s incredible. After everything, they’re coming back stronger than ever.”
Lydia nodded and reached into the pocket of her apron, pulling out her phone. She tapped on the screen and soon a mechanical voice of a text-to-speech app filled the air.
“Nature finds a way,” the device spoke for Lydia, whose lips curled into a knowing grin.
“Is it annoying?” June asked. “Having to type everything out like this?”
“Learning sign language,” the electronic voice said again as Lydia typed. “New ways to express magic.”
“Does Alistair know you’re doing okay with…all of this?” June gestured, encompassing the garden, the phone, the silence that’d become Lydia’s life.
“Alistair worries too much,” the phone voiced Lydia’s typed response, and she rolled her eyes, adding a wink for good measure. “Plants don’t need to hear my voice to grow.”
June hesitated. “He told me how your family’s magic is tied to music. How will you do spells without your voice?”
“Magic,” Lydia began typing, then paused, her gaze lifting to meet June’s. She continued, and the phone spoke, “is not just in words or tunes. It’s intention, willpower.” She placed a hand over her heart, then pointed to June, and finally swept her arm toward the vibrant garden around them.
“Willpower,” June repeated, letting it sink in. The idea that strength didn’t solely lie in incantations but within oneself—that was powerful. And reassuring.
“Magic adapts,” Lydia typed.
“Like us.”
Lydia nodded.
June glanced down at her own hands, still feeling the hum of energy from the cleansing spell she’d done with Alistair. She flexed her fingers thoughtfully before Lydia’s next message broke her daydream.
“Speaking of adapting,” the synthetic voice said, “I saw you with Lucas in the woods.”
June’s cheeks flamed as she shot Lydia a wide-eyed stare. The older witch’s mouth curved into a playful smile, her thumbs dancing across the phone screen. “Life’s too short. For fear. For regrets.”
“Lydia!” June protested, her cheeks heating. She sighed, her gaze dropping to the ground. “It’s just complicated. With Lucas. With Harriet.”
“Complications make life interesting,” Lydia typed.
“Maybe,” she conceded, biting her lip, “but I do miss how things were. With both of them.” Another heavy breath left her lungs. “So much has happened.”
“Then fight for it.”
Fight? While there was someone out there planning who knew what, while the darkness that took her parent’s lives still clung to life… How could she fight for anything but her life and the lives of everyone in Stonebridge? She didn’t have time for love or friendship. Look at the mess she’d made over winter. It was hopeless.
“June?” Lydia prompted.
“Sorry, it’s just…” she trailed off, scanning the horizon where the dark outline of the woods met the sky. A shadow passed over her heart. “It’s not just my feelings or friendships that are complicated. There are dangers, Lydia. Dangers we haven’t seen the last of.”
“Stonebridge has always had its shadows,” Lydia acknowledged through the app. “But we have light. Don’t let fear dim it.”
“Easy for you to say,” June joked weakly, attempting to deflect the gravity of the moment.
“Who said it was easy?” Lydia shot back. “Courage isn’t the absence of fear, it’s facing it head-on.”
June took a deep breath, letting Lydia’s words settle in her heart. She was going to need a lot of courage before this fight was over. Luckily, she had an entire coven of witches behind her.
Her eyes returned to the garden, where a resilient sprout peeked through the soil. If that isn’t a metaphor, I don’t know what is.
“Your connection to the earth has grown strong,” Lydia’s electronic voice broke the silence, her thumbs swiping deftly on her phone. “You’ve passed your herbalism studies.”
A swell of pride rose within June. “Really?”
“Really,” Lydia confirmed. “Harry will teach you warding next. You’ll be good at it, I can feel it.”
June’s heart raced with excitement. Warding was a powerful form of protection magic, something Stonebridge desperately needed. Yet, there was a hint of uncertainty in her heart—the knowledge that with every step she took on this path, she drew the attention of those who craved her developing magic for unknown evil.
“Thanks,” June said. “For everything.”
Lydia smiled, her green eyes sparkling with pride and a knowing that surpassed her years. “Don’t let the threat of darkness stop you from learning. Magic can be fun, too.”
“Like potions?” June joked.
“Plants aren’t so boring anymore, are they?” Lydia grinned. “I expect you to come around so I can teach you more than just the basics.”
June laughed, the sound mingling with the rustle of leaves above them. “I won’t be a stranger. I promise.”
A mischievous glint appeared in Lydia’s eyes. “Would you like to come in for a cup of ayahuasca?”
June almost choked and shook her head. “No, thank you! It’s been a long day out in the woods with Alistair, so I think a night a home curled up in bed is long overdue.”
Lydia tilted her head to the side, her question clear.
“We found that ritual site,” she explained. “Cleansed it right off the face of the earth.”
“Good. I’ll see you later, then.”
June waved to Lydia and stepped beyond the stone fence, leaving behind the scent of lavender, sage, and overturned earth.
As she walked, thoughts of the upcoming Stonebridge Book Festival wove their way into her mind. Harriet, with her undying love of books, was surely in the midst of planning what was no doubt going to be the event of the year.
It felt like an age since she’d signed up as a volunteer and hoped that Harriet hadn’t erased her name from the contact list.
Maybe I should stop by and see, she thought as she looked up at the cheery blossoms. It’s on my way.
Turning the corner, the familiar sign of Fortune’s Books came into view, and she smiled.
Her footsteps slowed as she approached, and she lingered by the windows. The display promoted various classic fantasy novels, all with the theme of grand adventures that took their characters far from home, which was the theme of the festival.
But even as she admired the display, June’s mind was clouded. The surrounding air seemed to vibrate with a silent warning. The thought of a traitor amongst them planted a seed of unease in her heart. How could they protect themselves when the enemy might be walking beside them?
Lost in thought, June barely registered her own movement as she drifted closer to the bookstore window. Inside, Harriet bustled about, meticulously arranging a display of books.
Suddenly, Harriet paused. Her movements stilled, and her eyes seemed to cloud. For a fleeting moment, her expression was vacant, as if she were staring through the walls of the store into some far-off place—or time.
A chill fluttered June’s magic, subtle yet unmistakable. It was as though the temperature had dropped several degrees with the setting sun, or maybe it was the icy touch of premonition.
“Harriet,” June whispered, reaching toward her with unseen hands.
But Harriet shook her head slightly, as if dismissing a stray thought, and resumed her work with the same enthusiasm as before.
June turned away from the window, her brow furrowing. Maybe today wasn’t the day for checking on her volunteer status—her courage had failed her. Tomorrow, then.
As she walked away, June cast one last glance over her shoulder at Fortune’s Books. No matter what happened, she’d watch over her friends, guard Stonebridge, and confront whatever danger lay ahead.
But for now, she moved forward, determined to let her magic grow, despite the shadow’s embrace.