After a very quick yet somehow also very uncomfortable breakfast, Fluffikins excused himself, leaving me and Greta to ourselves.
“So you want to learn how to be a Town Witch?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow made of such light hair that it almost looked translucent. Something was off about Greta, but I couldn’t figure out what.
Realizing I had started to stare, I forced my gaze toward the floor. “Not that I want to, per se, more like I’ve been instructed to.”
She laughed at this, and it sounded like the tinkling of bells. “Ah, the good old PTA. Nobody applies and yet everyone gets a job.”
My stomach churned at the acronym. I’d been burned by the PTA before, and even though these three letters represented an entirely different organization this time, a fresh wave of outrage still washed over me.
Greta studied me in such a way that made me wonder if her powers came with the ability to read minds. I was just about to ask when she cleared her throat and said, “Let’s start at the beginning. Shall we? Do you know what a Town Witch does?”
I shook my head. “All I know is that the magic is tied to the town, and that Lila Haberdash had the job until somebody snuck into her house and killed her.”
Greta cringed. Her pale skin turned pink, making her whitish-blonde hair even more pronounced. “Yes, both those things are true.”
“Wait. Has it officially been ruled a murder now?” I’d been so caught up in the magic stuff that I’d done a poor job following up on the investigative side of the situation.
“Oh, yes, but we knew that right away,” she answered with a flippant wave. “Magic inevitably comes to an abrupt and violent end. Always.”
My stomach catapulted at that, threatening to spew the delicious coffee I’d only just entrusted to it. “How?”
Greta cocked her head to the side. “How what? How did she die? Magic, obviously.”
“Oh.” Well, that was clear as mud. I still didn’t know an awful lot about magic, but if Fluffikins was looking for evidence that I hadn’t done the deed, then the means should definitely be proof enough of my innocence.
“Try not to worry about it, dear,” Greta said with a pinched expression as she grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Lila lived a good life while she still had it. For now, it’s your turn to take up the Beech Grove Witch mantle, and soon it will be someone else’s.”
“The killer’s, you mean?”
She sighed and let go of my hand. “That’s often how these things work, yes.”
I had at least a million questions but sensed her patience with me was already wearing thin. “Okay, so what do I need to know in order to do this job?”
And to not get killed, while I’m at it.
Greta gave me the first genuine grin I’d seen since meeting her. It brightened her whole face, which, when combined with her pale blond hair, gave her an almost angelic appearance.
“Let me escort you to your new office, and I’ll explain some things along the way.” She crossed my living room like she owned the place and held the door open so I could exit in front of her.
Even before we stepped foot off the porch, I knew we were headed to Mrs. Haberdash’s main residence. My new office was the crime scene. Wonderful.
“The Town Witch,” Greta explained as she fell into step beside me with a smooth, even stride, “acts as a conduit for the magic that occurs naturally within the land this town was built upon. So she has her own magic but can also pull from the stores of magic that belong to the town.”
I bobbed my head as if this all made perfect sense. In theory, it did. But in practice? Well, that was another matter entirely.
“Why would she need to use the land’s magic?” I asked.
“To protect the town and all its residents. As you can probably guess, it’s a very important job.” She quickened her pace, and I had to jog to keep up. Was this to prevent me from asking any more questions? Because it only gave me more—like why would she need to be evasive with me?
Instead I asked, “So if this is such an important job, why would you choose to entrust it to me? I didn’t even know magic existed until less than twenty-four hours ago.”
“Oh, it wasn’t my choice, dear.” She snorted in a rather unladylike way that clashed with the grace with which she carried herself. “It wasn’t anyone’s choice. You simply happened to be at the right place at the right time.”
“Or the wrong one,” I couldn’t help muttering aloud.
She stopped and turned back to study me again, as if searching for something she’d tried and failed to find before.
“You won’t have to do much,” Greta reasoned after a couple uncomfortable moments of silence. “In fact, you won’t be able to.”
“Because the killer already got away with all of the town’s magic,” I filled in.
“Yes, but he or she will be back. And soon.”
Finally I caught up with her and asked, “Why’s that?”
She let out a shaky breath. “Because if the magic is kept away from its source for too long, it will die—and its vessel will die right along with it.”
I shivered in the cool morning air. Well, at least the stakes weren’t high or anything…