Twenty-Six

Explanations

The silence lasted a few moments. Then Ben sucked in a breath and whispered, “No.” It was a broken little protest. He took a step toward where the tea shop had stood—but now there was only dead grass and crushed ferns. The space was empty. Not even the foundations remained.

Fin stood there, barely able to believe what she had just done. She’d made the tea shop vanish—and she didn’t know if it would ever be found again.

“No!” Ben repeated, his voice rising. Astonishment hardened into anger and he rounded on Fin. “You little—” He dropped the key and grabbed Fin by the shirt, giving her a hard little shake.

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER.”

The voice cracked through the darkness with such ferocity that Ben let go immediately. Fin stumbled and looked up.

Mom came rushing toward them, her expression one of utter fury. Ben retreated, bumping into Mrs. Petrichor. The older woman looked as hawkishly stern as ever, but now there was a new gleam to her eyes. She reached down for the barbecue lighter. “Well, well,” she said softly. Her gaze snapped to Ben.

Ben tried to run.

Mrs. Petrichor seized him by the arm, putting it behind his back and driving him down to one knee. He grunted with pain. “I knew it was arson,” she said. “The moment I saw your shed.”

“It wasn’t me,” snarled Ben. “It was Fin’s magic twin.”

“Sure it was,” said Mrs. Petrichor, marching him away.

Mom reached for Fin, touching her shoulders, her arms. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Fin said. “Mom, I’m fine.” She glanced around and saw Aunt Myrtle, Cedar, and Eddie a few steps away. Cedar was looking at the expanse where the tea shop had once stood, her eyes wide. Then she slid that look toward Fin, raising her eyebrows in a silent question.

Fin’s own gaze darted around, but she saw no sign of her double. Teafin must have made a run for it the moment the other adults showed up. Fin shook her head at Cedar and Eddie, who both seemed to understand.

Everything was chaos and explanations for nearly an hour afterward. Mrs. Petrichor locked Ben in her car—a minivan, with one of those child-proof systems—and asked what had happened. Fin cobbled together a story that was half truth and half lie: that she’d overheard Ben talking about the tea shop and realized he intended to steal the mortar, that she’d seen him with a barbecue lighter, that Fin had come here to delay him while she sent Cedar and Eddie for help. The others simply nodded along with her story, and no one mentioned Teafin. Ben snarled something from inside the minivan, but Mrs. Petrichor only slid him a look that was mingled disappointment and pity.

“This is a mess,” she said. “I’ll have to speak with the town council.” She pressed a hand to her forehead, rubbing as though she had a headache. “He’s not the first to try something like this. He won’t be the last.”

“What’ll happen to him?” asked Fin.

“Banishment,” said Mrs. Petrichor with an exhalation too sharp to be a sigh. “I’ve no doubt. Council won’t have a choice. Nick will see him out and he won’t return.”

Fin didn’t know what banishment entailed—or how they’d keep Ben from ever coming back. She considered asking, but part of her didn’t want to know.

“What about the tea shop?” asked Fin. “Is it gone forever? Or will Talia be able to find it when she comes back?”

Mrs. Petrichor shrugged. “No idea,” she said frankly. She was one of those adults that never softened her words, not even for kids—and Fin appreciated that. “It’ll be a right mess, either way.” She gave her minivan a dour look. “He’s going to see the council tonight. Even if it means I have to drag Mayor Downer out of bed.” Her car keys in hand, she walked away.

Mom and Aunt Myrtle fussed over Fin and Eddie, saying that they’d been brave but foolish. Mom leaned more heavily on the foolish side, while Aunt Myrtle was more on the brave side.

“You missed your school presentation,” said Aunt Myrtle, and Fin’s stomach sank. “I’ll talk to your teacher,” Aunt Myrtle continued. “We’ll get it smoothed over—for all three of you.”

Cedar brightened; she had stood a few feet apart, looking a little unsure of her place in the conversation.

“Come on,” said Mom, putting her arm around Fin’s shoulders. “Let’s get you all home.”

They all went their separate ways. Aunt Myrtle and Eddie headed toward the inn to retrieve the terrarium, and Fin could hear Aunt Myrtle complimenting Eddie’s bravery in the same breath as she mentioned he should have found an adult sooner. Eddie threw Fin an exasperated look.

Fin nodded. Then she gave him a half-hearted grin, because she wasn’t sure how badly they’d be grounded for the next few weeks.

Cedar began to slip away in the direction of Brewed Awakening. “I’ll see you later,” she said quietly, and before she could leave, Fin reached for her.

“Hey,” said Fin, and Cedar went still. There were so many things Fin wanted to say: Thank you for believing me, thank you for hiding Teafin’s existence, thank you for not thinking this was all ridiculous and just staying at the science fair. But all she said was, “Thanks.”

Cedar understood. She gave Fin a small smile before she left..

Mom and Fin walked home to the cottage. Something moved in the dark and Fin’s heartbeat quickened—but not with fear. It was probably Teafin, lurking out of sight.

Mom unlocked the door. Every movement was slow and careful, and she flicked on the light with a small sigh.

“Let me guess,” said Fin. “You’re going to tell me I should’ve told an adult and not gone after Ben, even though he might have managed to break in before—”

“I visited the tea shop when I was younger,” said Mom abruptly, and Fin fell silent. The words were so shocking that all she could do was stare. Mom walked into their small kitchen, turning on the gas stove and setting a kettle atop the flame. “I was a teenager and I was young and—and growing up in a place like this, in any small town, you end up either loving or hating it. Your Aunt Myrtle loved Aldermere, even then. Our parents knew she would stay. But I . . . I had no such attachments. I wanted more than this town could offer.”

Fin didn’t move, afraid it would break the spell of this story.

“I went to the tea shop when I was nineteen,” said Mom. “Talia was there, even then. I asked her if the teas could help me find love—and she said that love couldn’t be created, but that I could make myself more appealing. So I used the tea to make myself more outgoing, friendlier, and happier. I used it to become the kind of girl I thought that I should have been. And it worked—a tourist, a young man, was passing through. I caught his eye. We fell in love. But now I can never be sure if I truly loved him or if I wanted to love him. He left Aldermere—and I went with him. We went south, got married, found work and an apartment, and . . . he wasn’t a good person. I hadn’t seen that before, because he hid it well.”

Fin swallowed hard.

“After you were born, I tried to stick it out with him,” continued Mom. “I thought he’d try, for you. But he didn’t. Things got worse and . . . Fin, I know you were young. I don’t know how much you remember. But it wasn’t a good time.”

Fin still didn’t remember—not all of it. Just the flashes that Teafin had shown her, small snippets. “We left,” she said.

Mom nodded. “Yes. Because you will always be the most important thing to me, you got that? It’s why we came to Aldermere. Your dad kept tracking us down, and one time he almost got to you at school. So I decided we’d be safest here. And I wanted you to have a real home, the kind of place you’d enjoy growing up in.” She squatted in front of Fin. “I know you’re anxious a lot. Sometimes I worry it’s because I didn’t leave soon enough . . . or it’s the way you would have been, regardless. You’re a smart girl, and I love you so much. But it’s not wrong to admit that sometimes we need help. Do you understand?”

Fin took a breath. It wasn’t weakness, she decided, to accept help. She’d accepted Eddie and Cedar’s help—even Teafin’s. But none of them could help her with this. “I’ll see the counselor,” she said.

Mom’s face broke into a smile. “I’ll make an appointment,” she said. “And we can drive up together. There’s a mall in Eureka, and we could even buy you a few new school clothes.”

It sounded nice.

Fin nodded. “Okay.”

Because Teafin was right. Fear wasn’t something that could be pushed aside.

Mom went to bed, and Fin went up to her loft. She picked up one of her books and flipped it to the back page. Tucked between the pages was the handwritten list of all her fears. She’d brought it with her, from apartment to apartment, and it was only now she understood how those fears were part of her.

She crumpled it up, paper crinkling between her fingers. Then she yanked up the window and threw it as hard as she could.

The list vanished into the darkness.

Relief swept through her. Then, out of nowhere, the list flew back out of the night and nearly hit her in the face. Fin barely managed to snatch it from midair, fumbling with the paper.

“You might want that,” said a familiar voice.

Teafin swung up onto the sharp incline of the roof. She was dressed in the same black clothing, and the raven sat on her shoulder. She looked like some kind of dark heroine. She looked fearless and daring, and maybe—just maybe—Fin thought she could look like that someday too.

“Sorry about that,” said Teafin, “but the last time you tried to get rid of your fears, it didn’t end so well.”

“It’s a list,” said Fin. “What’s it going to do? Grow legs and start eating people?”

“This is Aldermere,” said Teafin. “It might.”

Fin’s mouth twitched into a genuine smile. “Are you sad that the tea shop is gone?”

“Naw,” said Teafin. “I get why you did it. After spending almost two weeks running around trying to keep Aldermere safe, I’d have been mad if you let Ben walk in there.” She squared her shoulders. “Aldermere is our town. We keep it—and the magic—safe.” She touched a hand to her own collarbone. “Speaking of . . . I think it’s time we figured out what to do with me.”

“What to do with you?” Fin frowned.

“The tea magic is temporary,” said Teafin. “I’ve been losing leaves for days. And when Ben burned me, that sped things up.” She held up a hand, squinted at her own fingers. The shape blurred, became something formless and soggy, then reformed into a hand. “I’m disappearing.”

Fin felt a pang of sadness. She’d never thought the prospect of losing Teafin would hurt her. But her double had become an ally instead of a threat.

Teafin must have seen the look on Fin’s face, because she laughed. “Oh, come on. You couldn’t keep me, not forever. Just like you couldn’t keep the tea’s magic forever.” She rocked back on her heels, and the raven chittered and took flight, alighting on the rooftop. The bird began grooming her feathers, grumbling quietly to herself.

“So what are you going to do?” asked Fin.

Teafin shrugged. “We’ve got two options. First: you let me go. I can hang out in the forest or play with the raven for a while. I probably won’t last more than a few more days and—and then there’ll be a lump of soggy tea leaves somewhere in the forest. It’d be peaceful and I wouldn’t mind it.”

“Or?” asked Fin, frowning. She didn’t like the idea of Teafin leaving.

“Or,” said Teafin, “you can take me back.”

Fin blinked. “Take you back?”

“Your memories,” said Teafin. “A bit of anger. A dash of recklessness. I’m not exactly pleasant, but I could be part of you again. Or not. I mean, you did get rid of me for a reason.”

“And look at how well that turned out,” Fin murmured. She considered the other girl—crouched on the rooftop, comfortable and at ease with her surroundings. That wasn’t Fin, but maybe it could be.

And besides, it was wrong to lose Teafin. To have those parts of Fin vanish into some forest and never emerge. A few weeks ago, she would have done it. But now . . . now she wasn’t sure she could.

Maybe the first step in not being afraid was to accept that fear could not be buried. It could not be hidden away or ignored.

Sometimes it had to be felt.

“Okay,” she said.

Teafin grinned suddenly—a wide smile that curled the edges of her mouth. It was the kind of smile that promised all sorts of trouble and mischief, and Fin wondered if she’d ever look like that. “Good,” said Teafin.

“You don’t seem surprised,” said Fin.

“I’m not,” said Teafin. “I’d have done the same.” She held out her hand. Her nails were painted black.

Fin shook her head. “Evil twinning it to the last fashion statement?”

“Try plum when you finally paint your nails,” said Teafin. “That’s more our color.”

Fin shook her head, amused. “Just tell me one thing.”

“What?” asked Teafin, tilting her head.

“I can understand why you burned Ben’s shed,” said Fin. “But why sabotage River’s science fair project? Or ruin Mayor Downer’s lawn? Or put those whintossers in Mr. Hardin’s shop?”

Teafin laughed. “I mean, like I said before. River’s a jerk. If I had to lure you out of that gym by sabotaging someone’s project, it might as well have been him. As for Mayor Downer . . . I mean, come on. Who hasn’t thought about ruining her perfect lawn?”

“And the Ack?” asked Fin.

“The cat gets bored,” said Teafin, shrugging. “And he likes chasing whintossers. I thought I’d give him some fun.”

“You are trouble,” said Fin, but this time she said it like a compliment.

Teafin beamed.

Fin thought back through the last few days. “One last question,” she said.

Teafin looked expectant.

“That night,” said Fin. “When Eddie and I were at the big house after working on our project. You were moving around outside, making noise. Then you wrote on the dust in the window. ‘Stay indoors tonight.’ What was that about?”

Teafin touched a finger to her lips thoughtfully. “Because,” she said, “I wasn’t the creature making the noise.”

Fin drew in a sharp breath. “What was it?”

“I don’t know,” said Teafin. “It was big, I can tell you that much. Like a shadow had fallen across the house—but I couldn’t see what cast it. One thing’s certain, though. I wasn’t the only one keeping an eye on you.” She leaned forward. “Be brave, Fin.”

Fin lifted her chin. “I’ll try.”

Teafin smiled. It was a wicked curve of a smile. Then Teafin’s hand covered Fin’s eyes. Fin shut her eyes on reflex, the cool slickness of damp tea leaves against her cheek.

And then all of the things she had forgotten came flooding back.