The Lorelei Signal
The Pop-Up Market
Written by Jenna Giarletta / Artwork by Lee Ann Barlow
A witch put a charm on my shop without my permission. Clear duct tape attached a small potion bottle to the top of a shelving unit, in the exterior gap between the oak panel and the wall. Customers would never notice.
The previous tenant didn't leave it because bright purple liquid filled the potion bottle to the brim. These charms lasted six months, and by the end, the liquid depleted like an hourglass with no bottom. So the idea that any witch thought it appropriate to stamp her own energy on _my_ business without consulting me at all…
Who does that?
My new landlord, apparently. And I couldn't argue with her about it, what with it being her building and all. Well I _could_ argue, and under any other circumstances I would, no hesitation. But I wanted to make a good impression on my first day as Marilyn Wilodrop's tenant. While I wouldn't be there forever, we still needed to get along for the next three months.
The heavy box of kitchen supplies in my arms demanded my attention. I carefully deposited the box on the built-in counter to my left. On the right stood display racks next to the narrow shelving unit that held the charm. The check-out area ran the length of the back wall, equipped with a cash register and more shelving. A door in that wall led to a tiny commercial kitchen. I didn't need much to make soups and sandwiches, so I was happy with an old oven.
Though perfect for the moment, I needed to remind myself the space wasn't mine for long.
A gentle creak sounded towards my right. The door near the check-out counter opened and Ms. Wilodrop stepped into my space. Show time.
“Ms. Wilodrop! Thank you again for renting me your gorgeous shopfront. It's like a dream come true.” The other witch was an older, curvy woman, her wispy dark brown hair pulled into a long ponytail. Though Ms. Wilodrop must've been at least a decade older than my twenty-nine, she passed for around my age thanks to flawless skin and sparkling blue eyes.
When I stuck out my hand in an attempt at professionalism, she went in for a big hug instead. Okay, she was a hugger. “I _am_ in the business of manifesting dreams. Welcome, Sage Bromley, though I _insist_ you call me Marilyn. I'm so excited for your new venture! If you need any advice don't hesitate to ask. After all, _Deepest Desire_ has been around for twenty years. Not to humble brag or anything.”
“It's a well-deserved humble brag,” I assured her, making her laugh. I didn't lie either. Her legendary store full of natural, homemade cosmetics drew in tourists from downstate New York and beyond. Towards the back of her shop, if witches knew to look, she sold obscure potion ingredients related to beauty spells. Frankly I was lucky to start my business next to hers.
Though, everyone in the witch community knew she infused her shop with magic. I tended towards restraint. So, as much as I'd try to ignore the charm, it irked me.
As if reading my thoughts (possible since most witches had a sense for it), Marilyn turned towards the charm. “I hope it's alright, dear, but I got you a little 'business-warming' present. This charm will make your customers much more open to buying. All of my past tenants found lasting success with their businesses, and I like to think I helped.”
I couldn't remove it after that. “Thank you, that's very thoughtful. Would customers be under a spell?” Maybe I could keep the charm but somehow negate the effects with my own magic.
“Goodness, no.” Marilyn sounded horrified by the idea, which was comforting. “It simply amplifies desires your customers already have. They wouldn't walk into your store if they weren't interested on their own, right?”
“True,” I conceded. Still, it didn't change my plan for the charm. From the other side of our shared wall I heard the faint ringing of her customer bell, then voices calling out for assistance. “Sounds like you've got customers.”
Marilyn stared at me for a second, her face unreadable. “Tell me, are heightened senses part of your magical abilities? My past tenants always said they never heard a thing.”
The question threw me off. Most witches didn't ask such a personal question. I started to rebuff her prying but my eagerness to impress made me answer honestly. “Yes. All six.” Witches considered sensitivity to magic the sixth sense. Every witch had it but some possessed more talent than others.
“Aren't you something?” Marilyn patted my shoulder like I was a kindergartner showing off their ABC's. “Well, best of luck to your market, and feel free to ask me anything.”
Only fair since Marilyn felt free to ask _me_ anything. As soon as she left I went outside for another box from my car. Counteracting the charm would have to wait until I opened for business.
~ * ~
Within two days I had _Sage's Market_ presentable for customers. Would I take more time with a permanent store? (Not to mention, come up with a more creative name?) Absolutely, but three months would fly by and I needed to turn a profit. Thankfully it didn't take long to stock the shelves with my seasoning blends, infused oils, jarred pasta sauce and some snacks obtained from vendors.
I didn't have much room on the sales floor for people to eat, so primarily food would be to-go. Still, I fixed up three two-seater tables (if two adults actually fit) and lined them up from door to back counter. During the week I'd find time to get napkin holders and condiments. Maybe I could tie in my products. Leave out pink sea salt and gourmet black pepper, or an olive spread for people to put on toast. Serve crackers in my inventory with my fresh soups…
Before I could get lost in brainstorming a customer walked in. Business had been extraordinary
for my first week and secretly I feared it was all Marilyn's charm. At least I could be sure everyone walked in on their own, right?
My customer, a wiry older gentleman in slacks and a sweater, instantly went to the seasoning blends. “Hi there,” I greeted with my best customer-service smile. “Welcome to _Sage's Market_, better name to be determined when I have a permanent store.”_ If._
He laughed. “I don't know, I think it's catchy. Welcome to the neighborhood. Am I to presume you're Sage?”
Actually I lived a couple towns over, but this happened to be the most affordable property within my driving radius. “Yes, Sage Bromley, thank you.” I shook his outstretched hand, my long brown hair falling down my back. The length probably made me look even shorter than my five-foot three but I insisted on it.
“Daniel Martinez, fellow Bardow Valley business owner and future regular customer. Seriously, this store is fantastic.” Daniel waved a hand to encompass the room. “I run the bookstore down the street. Up here we get a lot of day-trip tourists from the city. They'll love this.”
I beamed at the compliment. “That's the hope. So what can I do for you today? I serve breakfast and lunch. Menu's on the chalkboard over there up against the wall.”
“I'm glad you're using the kitchen. Before you, this was a fantastic upscale burger place. Now they have a permanent location across town.”
“I'll have to go and compare notes.” I couldn't help thinking about Marilyn's charm helping past tenants. “So, can I interest you in some lunch? On the house for my first regular customer.”
He laughed again, and I could tell by the fondness in his eyes that I really would see him every week. “How can I turn that down? Thank you, that's very generous.” Daniel wandered over to scan the short menu. “I'll try the soup of the day with your Gouda grilled cheese.” Bless him for not ordering the steak sandwich.
As I reached the counter, Daniel pulled me back into conversation. “I wasn't sure I'd have the nerve, but I wanted to ask about your…_connection_ to Marilyn. So far, all of her tenants have been in the same community.”
The question confused me for a second. Witches could sense others like us and I didn't pick up anything. And the humans in my town seemed completely oblivious to the magic around them. “I'm sorry, which community? I'm new here so I wouldn't know about any secret societies.”
My joke fell flat, and Daniel's face reddened with embarrassment. “So you're not, then. I just assumed, with the herb 'seasoning blends' and being in this building…” He trailed off as he struggled for the right words. “I'm sure you'll hear about Marilyn soon enough, so it might as well be from me. She's a witch. A good one, mind you. But you should know.”
“Excuse me?” I tried not to laugh at the irony, but at the same time, genuine worry crept into the pit of my stomach. It was one thing to call someone a witch, but did these locals believe in real magic?
Misunderstanding my reaction for skepticism, Daniel let out an awkward chuckle. “I know it sounds absurd but stick around longer than a minute and you'll see what I mean. All of us true Bardow Valley residents respect Marilyn. She helps the town and we protect her.”
Oh, _crap._ What did I walk into? Did the coven know about this? “How does she help the town?” I needed to get out of there. It would take no time at all for humans to point fingers at me, even if I stayed under the radar. Besides that I couldn't imagine what Marilyn had going on in this town. While witches often used their magic to serve the public, they used it subtly so humans didn't come at them with torches and pitchforks. Clearly Marilyn found a way around that.
Daniel glanced over his shoulder, as if Marilyn could hear him from her side. Maybe he did know about real magic. “I shouldn't tell you this, but the way her magic works, she's able to grant people…well, their 'deepest desire.'”
I should've seen that one coming.
“She grants wishes for confidence and capability,” he explained. “So people can achieve whatever they set out to do. I consulted her years ago before I opened my bookstore, and now it's a success. I'll forever be grateful for that. But there's a price.”
Suddenly a haunted look crossed his face. The queasiness in my stomach grew. I didn't know any spells strong enough to make all that happen, so Marilyn had to be dipping into forbidden magic. Maybe it was all mind over matter and Marilyn scammed people without using actual power. (The alternative had to be bad if I hoped my landlord scammed this sweet gentleman out of his life savings.) “What was the price, in the hundreds? Thousands?”
He glanced back at the wall, paranoia in his eyes. “I'm sorry, I've said enough already.”
Remembering he was a customer, I gave him an apologetic smile. “Right, let me make you your lunch. Go ahead and browse while you wait.”
~ * ~
My mom Eliza and little brother Fletcher stopped by the next day to see the store. (I do mean 'little' since I had seven years on him. He'd just graduated college about four months ago.) She volunteered herself and my brother to help, so I gave them jars to fill with more of my seasoning blend. “Thanks for doing this, you two. I really appreciate it. You have no idea how this week has been.”
“I don't see why we can't use magic to get this done,” Fletcher complained, flicking away a blonde curl that drooped into his eyes. Since no one else was there he held up a palm towards a jar. His hand glowed with his aura, a deep orange. The same color then appeared around the jar and seasoning blend slowly filled it.
A witch's aura served as a conduit for their magic. Each one had a particular color with its own meaning, like a more tangible astrological sign. Fletcher's orange represented his creativity and general friendliness (when he wasn't whining). My mom's red aura indicated her fierce determination. As for me, my yellow aura meant I stood out as intelligent and level-headed. Of course a witch's mood could contradict their given aura color. Though most auras stayed constant, sometimes straying darker or lighter, I'd heard of them changing to keep up with witches' evolving personalities.
I shook my head at my brother's spell. “And that's quicker than using a funnel?”
“She's right, Fletch,” Mom laughed at his pout as she pulled her own wavy light-brown hair into a ponytail. “Sometimes magic's not worth the energy. If you wear yourself out too much it can become less reliable. Now if you did something like _this_...”
Mom sent her red aura light to the rest of the jars on the table. All of them filled with seasoning blend at once.
Fletcher raised an eyebrow at her. “You were holding out on us why, exactly?”
“To teach you the value of hard work,” Mom teased. (Frankly I agreed with my brother and wondered why we'd wasted our time.) She glanced back over at me. “Oh your father texted me a minute ago, he'll meet us here in a half hour.”
I pulled up a chair to sit across from them. “I'll catch him up later. Here's the thing. I don't know if the store's going to make it three months.”
Fletcher immediately stopped filling jars. “So what are we doing this for?”
My mother narrowed her eyes at him, and he resumed work. “Sage, honey, you told me and your father that business has been amazing. Where's this coming from?”
The answer was why I'd invited my family over _after_ Marilyn closed up for the day. “That landlord _you_ recommended is more Wicked Witch than Glinda of the North. Or, the opposite if you go by the play, I don't know. Either way she's literally got this whole town under her spell.”
Mom gasped and even Fletcher raised an eyebrow with interest. “How is that possible?” Mom blurted. “Someone in the coven referred her to me! I even _met_ Marilyn a couple of times and she seems like a sweetheart.” Each coven in this part of New York allowed up to fifty members from the area, and we elected three to lead. Most meetings weren't mandatory so Mom got more involved than I did.
“Marilyn fools everyone,” I explained. “From what I gather, locals think she's doing this to help. But any pact where the human pays a steep price for fortune can't be good, right? That's forbidden magic territory.”
Fletcher's brown eyes went wide. “Whoa, for real? What do they have to pay? I've heard of curses that need human blood.”
“No, you didn't,” our mother snapped in warning.
I stifled a laugh that wouldn't benefit anyone. “Last night I started looking online, but without the specifics I couldn't be sure of anything. I just don't know what to do. The longer I stay the bigger the risk I'll get involved in drama I _really_ want to avoid.”
“But what if this lady is hurting people?” Fletcher argued. “Isn't it your responsibility to do something about it?”
Both my mother and I stared at him, surprised by his deep concern for strangers. “It's Sage's _responsibility,”_ my mother began, “to keep herself safe. If she's right and Marilyn uses forbidden magic, she might end up putting herself in danger.”
“I could hang out here sometimes,” Fletcher offered quietly.
Considering he'd tried to get out of work minutes earlier, I hadn't expected such a sudden change of heart. “My brother was just here. Young man, did you see where he went?”
“You're hilarious,” Fletcher deadpanned. “Look, I'm not happy about it, but serious crap might be going down. We can't let Marilyn get away with this.”
Mom sighed as she patted Fletcher's shoulder. “Both of us are right. We can't ignore it but we can't be reckless either. Sage, _I'll_ stay with you. My office lets me work remote if I need to, so if there's nothing going on I can hang out here for a few hours a day.”
My mother here for hours, every day? I loved her but it was a _small_ store. On top of that I'd been living with my family to save money, so we already spent a lot of time together. “Thank you both, but I don't think this is necessary yet. I don't even know what's actually true.”
“Then maybe you should clear that up with Marilyn,” Mom suggested quietly. “But be careful about it. I can be there if you want.”
I grimaced at the thought of us both confronting Marilyn, interrogation-style. “Again, thanks, but I should do this on my own.”
~ * ~
I chickened out. What got to me was Marilyn herself. Sure, she had trouble with boundaries, but she always meant well. Not to mention the absolute deal she made me on rent, which went against her supposed greed. I couldn't picture her tricking people into giving up…whatever they gave up. At this point I wasn't sure I wanted to know.
Then I remembered my conversation with Daniel. The previous tenants were witches too.
After stopping by the bookstore to ask Daniel for the address (I didn't have the nerve to ask Marilyn), I drove across town to the burger restaurant in a strip mall. Even then it was twice the size of the pop-up space. I introduced myself to the owner, who then invited me to chat in his office.
The first thing I noticed about Kyle Crawford was the zip of magic telling me he also had powers. Secondly, he looked like a teenager left in charge while his parents ran errands. Kyle had to be in his twenties but the messy dark blond hair and lanky physique made him look more scrawny than the average high-schooler.
Located across from the kitchen, his “office” barely had room for a desk, as he stored extra supplies along the walls. At least he made efforts to keep his desk somewhat organized. “Take a seat,” Kyle insisted.
I sat in a rickety chair that might collapse under me, still not believing this kid had his own office. “Thanks. So, how long have you been in the restaurant business?” I'd told him I rented his old space to get my foot in the door.
“I'm twenty-four if that's why you're asking,” he said with a laugh.
“You caught me,” I admitted sheepishly. “Guess you get that all the time.”
“Every, single, day. But you're not here to comment on my age.”
When I spoke it was in a whisper, as the door didn't look too thick. “What's _happening_ in this town? Do people here know about magic?”
“Let's get right to it then,” Kyle remarked, some admiration in his voice. “I'll admit, it made me nervous too. But they're so distracted by Marilyn that no one suspects other witches might be around them. She puts herself on the front lines so the rest of us can live peacefully.”
Oh, boy. Another Marilyn follower. “This is about more than her questionable tactic of 'hiding in plain sight.' I've heard an unsettling rumor she trades spells with humans.”
Kyle leaned back in his chair and studied me. I got the feeling that what he saw put him on the defensive. “They go to _her_. She never pushes magic on anyone.”
The charm on my shelf begged to differ, but regardless. “We both know there are spells you just don't use, even if you find a willing human. Or witch.” I raised an eyebrow when he squirmed noticeably. “You asked for her fortune spell, didn't you?”
“I never asked!” He groaned when he realized what he'd done. “I owe Marilyn a lot, okay? All of this.”
Daniel had said basically the same. The return had to be huge if Marilyn put so much magic into making everyone's dreams came true. “But what's in it for her? Don't tell me she does it out of the goodness of her heart.”
“Maybe she does.”
We stared each other down for a minute. “I know it has to involve forbidden magic,” I began quietly. “If a spell like this existed, without consequences, everyone would use it.”
Again I had the sensation of being under a microscope. Kyle narrowed his brown eyes. “You can't report her to your coven. Not without proof.”
“Are you implying there's something to report?” When he clammed up again I pressed, “Please, Kyle. I'm worried for my own safety. She might come after me if she senses any suspicion.”
This finally made Kyle's eyes soften, giving way to sympathy. “Marilyn wouldn't hurt anyone. Like I said, she only offers this spell to those of us who need it. It's really not that terrible.”
_That_ terrible? “So what is it?”
Still hesitant, Kyle glanced to the door as if making sure it was completely shut. “The spell makes the recipient extremely capable,” he said in a near-whisper. “Whether they want to run a business, paint, sing. Cook. Your market would definitely take off with this spell. It's some of the most powerful stuff I've ever seen.”
“And the catch is…”
He mumbled his response. “You give up years of your life.”
“Say that again?”
“Think of how many years it takes to build a corporate empire or become the best chef in the world. Twenty, thirty, more? The spell requires the equal amount of time it would take to accomplish your goal. Twenty years is a lot so most people settle in the five-to-ten range.”
My head hurt trying to picture it. Magic could do some incredible things, but how did this even work? People didn't know the amount of years they could give! _“How?_ Just _how?”_
Kyle smirked at my reaction. “You'd have to ask Marilyn that one. I drank a potion and she captured the energy that escaped out of me. I didn't feel any different, and honestly, I thought she was full of it too. But then I started cooking the best dishes I've ever made.”
The implications sinking in, my voice emerged in a whisper. “How many years did you lose?”
“Fifteen.” Kyle couldn't look me in the eye. “I figure, I'm young, I can afford it. Witches have slightly longer life spans than humans anyway, right?”
“But what if you're meant to check out at fifty? Even as witches we have no way of knowing.”
“Exactly. Who's to say, when my time comes, it was the spell or just…my time?”
An employee calling out for Kyle ended our conversation. Though I'd wanted to support his business when I walked in, I forgot to order food for dinner on the way out.
~ * ~
My talk with Kyle stayed with me for the rest of the week. I couldn't shake the chill of knowing what was happening on the other side of my wall. Did I go straight to the coven? Talk to Marilyn and get her to turn herself in? As sweet as she acted, confronting her by myself could be dangerous if it took a wrong turn. At the very least I had to tell my parents as soon as possible.
All I knew was I would _never_ be one of her willing participants.
Marilyn made the decision for me when she barged into the market right before closing. I tensed at the sight of her. Over the past couple weeks she'd developed a habit of entering through the connecting door whenever she felt like it. I tried to repay the favor once, only to find the door locked on her side.
When she entered, she saw my last customer leave for the day. “Business strong as ever, I see. I'm so happy for you, dear.”
“Thank you, Marilyn. How did your day go?”
“A little slow, but I don't mind catching up on paperwork.” Though I tried to look busy cleaning up, Marilyn grabbed my arm. Her tight grip surprised me. “Come in the back with me, Sage. We need to have a chat.”
My heart dropped into my stomach when I realized Kyle ratted me out. I wanted to bolt.
But I didn't resist against my better judgment. She ushered me into her back room, which I'd never seen before. It certainly looked like a witch's workroom. Heavy purple drapes blocked out any light and two chairs sat on either side of a covered circular table. The shelves in here contained the expected jars of potions, ingredients and an occasional decorative box of supplies.
When she locked the door behind me, I felt like I'd been lured into her lair.
“Word of advice,” she began, her voice still upbeat and conversational. “Don't trust everyone you meet. Your new friend Kyle called me right after your talk. I may decide to forgive him.”
I should have planned for this. He'd seemed loyal to her. At the same time her words made me wonder what revenge she'd take on him for spilling her secret. “He told me what you're doing back here. It's wrong, Marilyn. The spell you're using is forbidden several times over.”
“One, I don't see how it's your business. And two, I've never cast it on anyone who didn't ask me first.”
“That doesn't _matter!”_ My aggravation rushed to the surface. Why did no one around here see how wrong this was? “There's no way it's ethical to take years of someone's life. It doesn't make a difference if their death happens now or years after. The result's the same and it's still your fault.”
Yeah, this escalated quickly. Confronting Marilyn always went much more calmly in my head.
Marilyn crossed her arms. “Do you think I'm a cold-blooded killer, Sage? After everything I've done to help you?”
“Like the charm, which I never asked for?”
“Please, tell me one thing wrong with overnight success. If anything you sound ungrateful.” Bitterness crept into her words, the first time I'd ever heard it. My righteous anger began to give way to fear and I took a step back towards the door. Meanwhile my mind raced through spells for defense, hoping I knew of a shield powerful enough to ward off Marilyn's magic.
I didn't.
“I'm grateful for the low rent,” I told her honestly. Maybe flattery could deescalate the situation. “And your support for my market. I think your heart's in the right place but you can't go around…”
“Killing people?”
“I wouldn't call it that, exactly.” Though I sort of already had.
Marilyn went over to a shelf of identical potion bottles, all filled with a sparkling blue liquid. She selected the closest one. “You see everything in black and white, don't you Sage? Things are either good or evil, no gray area. But what if I offered the same to you? Think about it. Give me ten years, or more if you like the idea, and it will manifest in record time.”
She put the bottle in my right palm and closed my fingers over it to make a fist.
I didn't even look down. Her offer sounded like a dream come true, but I'd always know I cheated to get ahead. That, and I planned to live as long as possible. “Never. I stand by what I said. You need to report yourself to the coven. Or I will.”
Marilyn laughed. “Please, I've been working them longer than you've been alive. Even if they did believe it, they'd never have the guts to investigate.”
“I don't care. This needs to stop.”
“Oh, you're going to be difficult.” She held up her hand towards me as if to cast a spell. I hated myself for flinching. “I could get this over with and turn you into a cute little cat. It's been so long since I've had a familiar.”
Crap. How did I go from enjoying my day, to Marilyn turning me into a cat? I knew she wasn't all good but this went beyond even my suspicions. My heart raced and it took every bit of courage I had to stay put. If I ran she'd stop me anyway. “I've told people about you.” Not the details, but enough. “If I disappear they'll know where to look.”
“I wasn't totally serious,” Marilyn said with another grating laugh. “Don't get me wrong, I could easily turn you right now. Lucky for you I'm much more interested in the potion that happens to be right in your hand.”
Before I could react she shot out a brown aura. While green was associated with greed, a brown aura meant the witch indulged in selfish desires. It also could indicate a grounded person with deep ties to earthly possessions. Both clearly applied to Marilyn.
“No! Please, don't!”
Thin, loosely-interwoven strands swirled around me like chains, climbing up my body and pinning my arms to my sides. I couldn't move except for my head. Additional aura strands kept my hand with the potion bottle firmly in place. She held her hand steadily out towards me, her palm still glowing brown.
“You can't!” I couldn't think of anything but the bottle in my hand. My fingers refused to move. “Please, don't do this! I'll be quiet!”
But Marilyn simply waved her hand at my arm attached to the bottle. “Don't struggle, dear. It'll just make the bind squeeze tighter. Think of the amazing success your future holds. Of what ten years of experience could do for your business.”
“No!” I watched with pure terror as my arm started inching up towards my face. Strands undid the cork in the bottle and it fell on the floor. Despite the brown aura around me I summoned my magic with all of my will. I didn't consider myself the strongest witch, but if there was any time to push myself to the limit, it was now.
My familiar yellow aura hummed along my skin. It was _there_ but the brown kept it underneath. I mentally forced it to the surface while watching my arm inch towards my face. The yellow mixed with the brown around my arm and it felt like either side of an arm-wrestling match. Marilyn now trained both her hands on me, magically shoving the bottle towards my mouth.
“This could be so much simpler,” Marilyn chided, as if it was _my_ fault she had to poison me. “You're being stubborn, Sage. You'll see that I only wanted the best for you.”
Meanwhile tears stung in my eyes as the bottle brushed against my lips. Though I clamped my mouth shut several drops of the potion seeped through. Cool, metallic-tasting liquid dropped into my stomach and nearly made me retch on impact.
It was too late. No matter what happened, I'd suffer the effects. And that pissed me off.
My yellow aura shined bright, ripping my hand away from my face. The bottle flew across the room, crashed into the opposite wall and broke into pieces. Potion and glass spilled all over her violet-colored carpet.
Still though, her binding spell persisted. Brown strands froze my outstretched arm.
“Hm.” Marilyn walked over towards me, her hands held up to reinforce her aura. “You're stronger than I expected. Unfortunately this doesn't solve my problem of what to do with you. I may have to reconsider the cat option after all.”
Then I started to glow underneath her brown aura with the same blue as the potion.
“Oh, lovely! I was afraid you didn't drink enough.” At my frightened expression she rolled her eyes. “Relax. You didn't drink the whole thing so I'd say you're giving up a month. Maybe six. A year, tops.” She put her hand on my shoulder through the aura, as if in a friendly gesture, and I sent her the coldest glare I could muster.
Ignoring my obvious death stare she kept her hand where it was. “You do show a lot of promise, Sage. If you weren't so determined to ruin me I'd bring you on as an apprentice.”
“What are you going to do with the life I'll lose?” I demanded. “Do you use it on yourself? There has to be some benefit for you or you wouldn't bother.”
Marilyn finally removed her hand as she raised an eyebrow. “You're the first person to ask. People always assume I put it back into the spell for success, into _them._ Or maybe they're afraid to know. But you're not and I respect that.”
The compliment did nothing to ease my fury. As I stood there, still frozen by her spell, she went to a closed storage cabinet and pulled out a catalog. “It's a key ingredient in my 'Magic Potion' line of top-tier cosmetics. The brand has become a hidden gem for the rich to find.”
This was somehow worse than the possibilities I'd imagined. “Wait. You steal life essence in order to make rich people beautiful? That's…that's…” I trailed off, unable to come up with a strong-enough insult.
“Profitable,” Marilyn insisted. “For all involved.”
Not even close to what I would've said.
Wait a minute. I needed to consider my options. If she thought I had a change of heart, she'd let me escape. Without turning me into a cat. “Maybe I am a little quick to judge. At the very least I shouldn't basically accuse you of murder when I don't really know what you do for people.”
“I was thinking the same.” She smirked, amusement in her voice as she put the catalog away. “Dear, I know you're only saying this to save your own skin.”
“But what about a truce?” I could honestly agree to that while I figured out my next move. “We're sort of evenly matched. Almost. Let's agree to disagree for now. I'll crack open my mind a bit and you could _not_ force me to drink more of your potion. By the way I'm still glowing from that.”
Marilyn laughed. “I just have to capture your life essence. Excuse me.” She found an empty potion bottle and held it out. The blue light seeped from me into the bottle, which she firmly closed with a cork. I shut my eyes for a second, trying not to shed more tears. Up to a year of my life had been stolen from me. What would have happened in that time?
“Oh, Sage, don't cry. I promise, you'll forget about the cost once the reward kicks in.” She waved at me again and her aura vanished.
I was free. It felt amazing to move my arms. “So, truce?”
“With some conditions.” Marilyn strolled over to me, her arms crossed. “The obvious one is you will not report me to the coven. They won't do anything, anyway. But it's such a hassle when news like this gets around. I'm sure you can imagine some members judging me, can't you Sage?”
I gritted my teeth. “Sure.”
“Second, you can't flee. Now that I've placed my aura on you, I'll always know where you are.”
There went that plan. “Okay. Now, what about you?”
“I do admire your nerve. You mentioned the charm. I will allow you to remove it and we won't mention it again.”
She put it there, and now it was a privilege to remove it? “Thanks,” I retorted.
Relief distracted me from my annoyance when she unlocked the door to my shop. “You may go, dear. I'd hurry before I turn you into a cat after all.”
I darted into the shop, grabbed my purse, and locked up as fast as possible. As I ran to my car I considered casting a transportation spell instead to get home faster. Then again, after how much energy I used, I could only guess if my magic would be reliable. When my hands shook on the steering wheel I realized I couldn't drive either. Reluctantly I texted my parents asking one of them to pick me up.
~ * ~
I spent the night sobbing on my parents' shoulders, drinking a little too much bourbon (my father's idea), and telling them every single detail. By the end I'd agreed to report Marilyn to the Coven Council. Our own coven leaders wouldn't listen, but the Coven Council consisted of one leader from the nine covens in our area. If our representative objected he might be outvoted. The only problem was, even after insisting on an emergency meeting, we couldn't schedule an audience for another month. So until then I had to lay low and hope I stayed in witch form.
My parents then cast a protection spell on me, the strongest they knew. They also cast a spell to analyze my aura for damage – and brown strands still mixed with my yellow. She really had left her mark. At least I'd taken down her charm, though it wasn't as satisfying with Marilyn's approval.
Another week later I stood outside my shop, writing the day’s specials on my brand-new sandwich board. My mother helped the small group of customers inside, her phone at the ready in case her boss called her. Both she and my dad ignored my request that they stay away for their own safety. Between them and Marilyn’s visits, not to mention a rapidly-growing customer base, I rarely had a moment to myself.
Just as well. I didn’t want time to think about Marilyn’s potion coursing through my bloodstream. About how I couldn’t make a mediocre dish or infused oil if I tried – they were all my absolute best work. As I finished writing in chalk I caught sight of Kyle Crawford walking up the block.
“Hey Kyle.” I waved slightly, hoping if I started off as friendly the mood would continue. I didn’t resent him for telling on me. Mainly because I didn't have the spare energy for a second grudge.
Kyle glanced at Marilyn’s door as he approached. “Hi. I know you have no reason to trust me and you don’t owe me anything but –” He stopped, his eye on Marilyn's door. He walked down a few storefronts and I followed, only because my mother knew I was out here. Not holding a grudge absolutely did not equal trust.
I decided to rush this along. “Look, I don't care that you told Marilyn I knew.”
This gave Kyle the courage to make eye contact. “Thank you. You're much more forgiving than I expected. I truly am sorry, by the way. Actually I stopped by to make sure she didn't do to you what she did to me, but it looks like she held back.” Again glancing at Marilyn's shop, he explained, “I haven't had any customers since that day, Sage. Not sure if it's magic or her iron grip on this town. Probably both.”
My eyes widened with sympathy. “I'm so sorry. There must have been some, right? She doesn't control everyone.”
“Out-of-towners,” he explained. “But none of our regulars have dared to show.” He grimaced. “I'll have to grovel for mercy before she puts us out of business.”
The thought of Marilyn's control sent a shiver down my spine. “Maybe starting over in another town isn't such a bad idea. I'd get out of here if I could, as far away from her as possible.”
That made him pause on the sidewalk, his eyes narrowed at me. “She did _something_ to you, didn't she? If not ruin your business.”
“She tried to buy my silence,” I confessed quietly, becoming paranoid myself as I glanced at her door. “When that didn't work, she made me drink some of her potion by threatening to turn me into her cat familiar.” He didn't need to know specifics.
Kyle's mouth opened in surprise, his eyes wide. “Marilyn Wilodrop? No way. She…she wouldn't…” Apparently this tested his rebellious streak. “I want to say I can't believe she did that. But now, seeing this side of her, I…” He stared at me, shame in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. So sorry. It’s my fault she went after you.”
“It's her fault. All of this is her fault.” Though my fist clenched I let out another calming breath. “You should take the opportunity to move while you can. Get as far away as possible.”
His face contemplative, he nodded.” Maybe I will. Thanks for letting me know, Sage.”
“Good luck, Kyle.”
~ * ~
My meeting with the Coven Council approached quickly. I spent this time with my head down, managing the influx of customers, and getting through the day without calling Marilyn evil (just barely). I counted down the days until my rescue.
Mom and Dad offered to go with me for support. I welcomed the company during the trip there, but when I stood before the council’s building, I went in alone.
The Coven Council resided in a bland two-story office building. Their neighbors probably thought it served medical professionals and the like. The front was completely bare of signage, plus I detected strong illusion and protection spells. Sure enough the inside looked way more luxurious than the outside indicated – high ceilings, plush carpets, marble everywhere. And according to the elevator bank the building had six stories instead of two.
Oddly enough the meeting itself was uneventful. For the Coven Council witches reported their grievances to the nine-member panel. I shared what I wanted them to know, then they marked me and the other party down for a visit. In two weeks they would send representatives to the location of the incident, with both myself and Marilyn present, and make an assessment.
I didn’t have any trouble until I headed out of the building. My own coven representative Louis Ivyglade followed me into the elevator. The tall, muscular coven leader loved using his size and booming voice to win arguments during regular meetings. Normally I’d offer a clipped “Coven Leader Ivyglade” out of respect, but he’d glared at me from the moment the meeting started. Clearly he would stick up for his bestie Marilyn.
When the doors closed I hoped we could get through the short ride in tense silence. But Ivyglade turned his familiar beady-eyed glare back on me. “You ungrateful brat,” he seethed.
So much for professionalism. I decided to ignore him the best I could. We’d already passed the fourth floor.
Ivyglade’s glare deepened as he shot out his hand. His dark red aura (the darker shade indicating boldness) latched onto the elevator buttons. We stopped between the third and second floor. “I am your coven leader. You will pay attention when I speak.” When I remained silent he snapped, “Say ‘yes, Coven Leader Ivyglade.’ Or do I have to make you?”
While his aura still covered the elevator buttons, my breathing quickened with fear at the thought of another binding spell. My voice came out annoyed rather than scared, thankfully. “Yes, Coven Leader Ivyglade. I do wonder, isn’t it forbidden to threaten someone with a binding spell?” Technically Council members could use it but only in emergencies.
He laughed at me. “You think you’re being clever right now, don’t you? I’ll let you in on a secret, Ms. Bromley. I decide what magic is forbidden. If an elder coven member is _kind_ enough to share their secrets with you, you trust their judgment. They understand far more than you.”
“Trust is earned,” I retorted, thankful the words weren’t shaky. “No matter how old I get, this will always be wrong. I did agree Marilyn should be in therapeutic rehabilitation.” For crimes this severe the witch almost always lost their magic. Some had the option to resolve their issues in therapy and maybe even get their magic back. Despite what she’d done, I still believed Marilyn could become a better person.
Ivyglade failed to see my logic. “Marilyn Wilodrop is the one of the most compassionate, generous witches I’ve ever met. She gave you a deal on rent and sends customers to your snooty little market. Your dangerous ignorance will be your downfall.”
I had nothing to say. Obviously he wouldn’t be swayed. If anything I felt insulted by his use of the word ‘snooty.’ “I’m not withdrawing my complaint.”
“Then consider yourself banned from the coven. You and your entire family.” Smirking at my wide eyes, he waved his hand at the elevator buttons again. We finally made it down to the lobby.
As I rushed to the main entrance it hit me. If we were banned from the coven, if I were no longer _recognized_ as a coven member, I wouldn’t be under jurisdiction of the Coven Council. It would be up to their discretion if they wanted to pursue this anyway in the name of stopping forbidden magic.
Ivyglade might take away my coven rights, but in my mind, I still had a chance.
~ * ~
Of course my family understood what I needed to do, and besides, they didn't want to be in the same coven as Marilyn and Ivyglade anyway. The next step was clearing the market out as soon as possible. After Ivyglade undoubtedly told Marilyn about my complaint, she'd probably order Bardow Valley to boycott my shop as well. I wouldn't be missing much business anyway.
That said, I hated the idea of my merchandise going to waste just because I was afraid. My parents volunteered to go for me but I needed to do this. Not alone – I did have _some_ self-preservation. Though, on the day of the move, I made the unwise decision to arrive early on my own. I'd woken up almost at the crack of dawn and felt too impatient to wait around. Besides, Marilyn didn't open her shop until nine, so I'd have a chance to start without her there.
But when I opened the door, Marilyn stood in front of my counter, her arms crossed. She smiled as I stumbled into the room, so thrown off I dropped the empty boxes I'd been carrying. “Marilyn! Wow, you're here early.”
“As are you. That isn't a coincidence, dear. Since you still have my aura, I easily used it to draw you here.” She waved her arm in a circle and I ducked on instinct. Her brown aura locked all three doors at the same time – the front entrance, the door to her shop, and the door to my kitchen. “You are a cowardly one, aren't you? Reporting me to the Coven Council and fleeing without bothering to talk with me beforehand. I deserved that courtesy.”
“So you could turn me into your familiar first?” Part of me was glad she'd brought it out in the open right away. Might as well get it over with.
“Now think, Sage.” She wandered over to me, her usual friendly smile in place. But her eyes flashed with animosity I'd never seen before. “What would I need with a familiar now? I'm sure the Coven Council will take away my magic.”
I backed away from her though the door behind me still glowed with her aura. “They might not!” Why was I convincing her to turn me into a cat? “Your pal Ivyglade banned me and my family from the coven.”
To my surprise she snorted. “While Louis is a _loyal_ friend, he'd be much smarter without that ego. His bias towards me is no secret in the community. If he's taking such a drastic move to protect me, the Council Coven will wonder what I'm hiding.”
“My parents are on their way,” I lied. “I'll clear out and you'll be rid of me for good. I promise, I have no plans for a permanent store in Bardow Valley.”
Marilyn chuckled. “The more visitors the merrier. You see, I began thinking about losing my magic, what I'd have to do without going forward. I didn't consume life essence myself but I used an array of spells to keep this face youthful. Not so it draws human attention of course, just enough that everyone says I look damn good for my age.”
Fear made my heart race as I put the pieces together. “You said _'didn't _ consume.'”
“Yes.” She pulled a bottle of the blue potion out of her sweater pocket. “Life essence _does_ have a 'Fountain of Youth' effect if you drink it straight. You are my last chance to keep my looks if not my magic. And since this _is_ my last chance I'm not pulling any punches. You think of me as a wicked witch, Sage. After word gets around, many will agree with you.”
“You can change!” I blurted, my mind blank as I tried to form any sort of plan. “The council is leaning towards therapeutic rehabilitation!”
“And I will say all the expected things to get my magic back as soon as possible. But until then, I am going to embrace my newfound reputation. Now I do have a surprise. Dear, look behind you.”
The charm was back on the shelf. Except the liquid glowed gray instead of purple.
When I didn't respond she explained, “It's a magic-dulling charm. Naturally the caster is immune. And as for your protection spell, it doesn't exist anymore. Took me a while to make or I would have used it earlier.” She didn't cast the binding spell again, but with all exits sealed and my magic dulled, she might as well have.
“Are you wondering about the life essence I stole from you last time?” Without waiting for an answer she continued, her voice teasing. “That's long-gone, in a very expensive body scrub. You _do_ have smooth skin.”
No.
Tears stung in my eyes. All hope of regaining my year had vanished.
“Let's speed this up,” she continued. “Now, while they clearly aren't down the block, I assume your family is arriving soon to help you pack. If you don't want them to endure the same fate…drink. The entire bottle.”
She opened the bottle and held it up to my mouth. I noticed it was slightly larger than the other bottles I'd seen.
“How many years will I lose?” I whispered, backing away on instinct.
“Thirty, forty? The next few years of your life – the _last_ few – are going to be very interesting for you, Sage. Now _drink.”_ When I didn't react right away, too stunned to accept this was happening, Marilyn's anger returned. “When your family gets here, I will be the only one with magic. Your brother is about college-age, isn't he? Young people have _so_ many years to spare. Just ask your friend Kyle. If you refuse I would _have_ to target them.”
She was right. They'd walk into a trap. I had to hope she'd keep her word.
I took the bottle from her and downed it all.
“I'm so proud of you!” Marilyn clapped her hands together, her ever-present smile wide. “You do have _some_ loyalty in you, even if it's not to me.”
This time the potion made me woozy. I lost my footing, nearly crashing into Marilyn. She was nice enough to stand me back upright. The potion turned me ice-cold all over and I felt like I'd hurl on the spot. “What is this?” I mumbled. “Not…like this…last time.”
“Hm.” Marilyn tapped her chin as if she'd never seen this before either. “You're my first target to ever drink that much. You might not have the stomach for it.”
When I glowed blue this time it made both of us close our eyes briefly. The glow dulled but I was still as bright as a neon sign.
Then two members of the Coven Council appeared by Marilyn's door.
Thankfully neither was Ivyglade. The middle-aged blonde on the left held up both hands, her pink aura (kind and caring with inner strength) trapping Marilyn in a binding spell, even with the new charm. “Thank goodness we cast that truth spell on Ivyglade. As soon as he banned you, Ms. Bromley, we knew something was up. He told us all about Marilyn's practices.”
The other Council member was a younger man who ran over to me, supporting me when I lost balance again. “You're safe now, we're going to heal you.”
Except blue life essence started to swirl up from me into the air.
Marilyn glared while struggling against her binding spell. “That's what happens if no one collects it. What a waste.”
“The bottle!” I slurred, clumsily reaching for the empty potion bottle. “Capture it! Please!”
That was the last thing I remembered before I fainted.
~ * ~
I stayed in the local witch healing center for two days. Council members can stop any forbidden spell in progress so they negated the potion's effects in the store. Some life essence had already escaped, but they captured most of it in the empty potion bottle. _Most of it._
Despite their efforts, the center determined I'd lost three years in addition to the year Marilyn stole. For the majority of my stay they figured out how to return the remaining life essence without accidentally making me a teenager or something. While life essence could technically be consumed “straight” as Marilyn said, the side effects were unpredictable if the dosage exceeded more than a year. Like mine.
The words “more than a year” stuck in my mind even with all the healing spells making me light-headed. (Aside from the life essence, consuming that much potion had wreaked havoc on my digestive system.) I kept thinking of all the customers she'd already targeted, all the years lost. Years that would have held happiness and more time with loved ones.
How did the spell do it? Would I go suddenly of a 'mysterious illness,' or would it look like a fatal accident?
Eager for a distraction, I came up with an idea that would cancel out _some_ of the suffering Marilyn caused. After running it by the Coven Council (minus Ivyglade, who had been put on probation both as a member and leader of my coven), they approved the idea with much hesitation. My efforts to stop Marilyn's harmful practices swayed their vote.
As soon as I recovered I searched Marilyn's lair first, hoping she'd lied about using my essence. She hadn't. I thought of those months with family, with my future spouse, with friends, running the shop of my dreams...
Instead it was making some rich customer's skin soft and dewy.
I suppose I could've kept my market open for the rest of my last month. Marilyn hadn't sent anyone to manage the building in her absence. But after what happened there, I wanted to get out as soon as possible. Out of the building and out of this damn town.
Although, there was one neighbor I'd miss.
Daniel knocked on my locked door. I let him into the empty space, save for the last couple boxes. The magic-dulling charm had been removed by the Coven Council to be kept as evidence. “Thank you for stopping by,” I began. “Unfortunately there's no where to sit.”
“Shame about Marilyn. I hope she gets better soon.” Daniel shook his head in disbelief. “Guess you never know people as well as you think you do.” To cover for her human friends, Kyle “let slip” that she'd had a mental break and needed to recuperate at a facility. He still decided to move knowing she'd return to her shop one day.
“I hope so too.” I did, truly. The world would be better off for it. “Daniel, I have a question. How many years of your life did you trade for Marilyn's spell?”
His eyes widened. “She told you?”
“More or less.”
He became quiet, reluctant to answer. “Twenty,” he whispered. “And I got exactly what I wanted. Long-standing business beloved by the town, some other stores in the area. Every day is a joy.” He paused, tears welling. “It'll all be over soon. But I knew what I signed up for and I've made peace with it.”
“How soon?” For the first time I wondered exactly how old Daniel was. He _looked_ to be in his eighties but he had the mental agility and energy of someone younger. Twenty years younger.
Daniel nodded when he saw the light go on in my eyes. “I'm not as old as I look. But because of the spell, I might as well be.”
Then I knew I'd made the right decision. I took a small bottle out of my jacket pocket. My life essence filled it halfway. “I want you to have this.”
He gasped and took a step back from me. “That can't be mine. I asked Marilyn about it once and she said I couldn't get it back.”
“It's some of mine. Exactly one year, so you better make the most of it.” I handed the bottle out to him. “Take it. Please.”
“No, Sage, I…you wonderful, giving, _reckless_ woman...I could never…”
I let out a sigh of acceptance. At least this would go to a much better cause. “Please take it, Daniel. You just said every day is a joy.”
A tear slid down his cheek as he took the bottle. “Normally I would argue much more. But my daughter is going to have a baby next year. I didn't think I'd live to see my grandchild. Now maybe I'll be able to hear her first word.” He pulled me into a tight hug. “Thank you, Sage Bromley. My daughter has been stuck on baby names. I'm going to suggest yours.”
My own eyes misted with tears, happy ones. “I'm so glad. Though, you might want to take the life essence here at the store. If there are any unexpected effects – there shouldn't be, but you never know – I can help with them.”
He smiled wide, a knowing twinkle in his eye. “You _are_ like Marilyn, aren't you?”
“Like _her?_ No. But maybe I know a thing or two about magic.”
I took out a mug from a box on the floor, and served the last customer at my first market.
Jenna Giarletta earned a bachelor's degree in journalism and worked briefly as a copywriter before finding a career in civil service. Creative writing has been a passion of hers for over twenty years. She is also a self-proclaimed foodie who usually has a cooking show on while she's writing. Right now she calls Long Island home but spent most of her life in Staten Island and Queens.