“Anddon’t you dareruin my hard work and frighten him off. Come say hello next time.”
“I’ll consider it. Any other requests?”
Lazlo looks up. “Can we—”
“Procure a pet of the canine variety? I told you, no.”
“But Ms. Zeen likes the idea. She says being good with dogs will make me anel-luh-jib-blecatch for someone one of these days. Did you know that Elvis Presley liked to give poodles to his girlfriends?”
Eh, she’s not wrong. “Dating standards have truly fallen,” I say.
“Do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend, Ms. Honey?”
Lazlo stares at me with two uncomfortably bright orbs. Why is the kitchen so hot? The ovens aren’t even going any longer.
“Yes,” I say.
“Ew,” Lazlo mutters.
Another, more discreet pair of hazel eyes tiptoe in my direction. Or am I hallucinating?
“The AGA stove and I are in a committed relationship,” I add, earning a giggle out of the kid. I’m wrong—the Warlock isn’t looking at me at all, just Lazlo laughing. He’s disinterested as ever. But I do catch the Governess giving the man some kind of warning stare. If folks would just say what’s on their mind in this house, Iswear.
“What about you, Mr. Knight?” I ask. “Never wanted to marry?”
Ms. Zeen lets out a cough that might’ve been a brave chortle.
Aha. A clue. I arranged this dinner to get information, and I’ve found that the right recipe for a person’s best health often comes from a meal they shared with their partner.
The Warlock raises an eyebrow but refuses to look in my direction. “Have you?”
Lord,I’msupposed to be interrogatingthem. “I’m the town’s only Farewitch—I’m busy. I have other priorities.” Though, I’ve been busy for six years now. Longer. And counting.
Then a darker thought feasts on my attention: What if powerful magicalwaysleads to loneliness?
Folks might blame bad luck on forces out of their control, and then their judgment twists spellwork into the enemy. Magic isn’t bad by nature, but there are always people looking to exploit fear of the unknown and the different.
“Ms. Frost, are you with us?” The soft clatter of the Warlock’s knife startles me.
“Sorry. Present.”Present?Woof. Who is he, my professor?
“As I was saying,” the Governess drawls, “Gertha and her biddies are just old gossips—”
“Except Beauregard,” says Lazlo.
“—yes, dear, except Beauregard—and for all their complaining, they’d trade their souls for an ounce of magic to lord over the rest of us.”
The Warlock’s shoulders tense. “That could be why the pastor was concerned enough to visit my Manor. Someone who wants magic badly enough will try to control it. Fear and envy make people blind to consequence and cost. For all her violence, at least the Widow Witch understands balance.”
His eyes flick to me.
“But you, Ms. Frost—you nearly invited these very same neighbors into my house,” he says, dry as a second-day baguette.
“In my defense, the Church Cavalcade never made it past the porch.” Rett, on the other hand… The housedidlet him in.
If the Warlock doesn’t want strangers snooping around, he should be less enigmatic and—well, I can’t control the will of an entire holler. I’m only one woman. Or I used to be. Just a daughter, when the recipe of my life was simple. But now I’m a Farewitch, a caretaker, a personal chef and quasi nutritionist, a Warlock whisperer, and a part-time fraction teacher. I’m the chance at survival standing between my mom, the Warlock, and a great big nothing.
“Besides, it’s not a bad thing if the Holler becomes a little less terrified of you and your magic.Sir.” He can’t fester in this farmhouse forever. “Folks would like you, if you let them.”
