Page 38 of Woods of the Raven

“What did I say about this hair?” Amanda whined, walking over to me and tucking behind my ears the many pieces that were no longer in the very messy bun at the back of my head. “It needs to all be up.”

I scoffed.

Walking around behind me, she let it all down and then did what she could with her fingers and redid the bun.

“Come here,” I said, taking hold of her wrist and easing her around so I could really look at her.

She was beautiful. I’d always thought so. Her once all-blonde hair was now layered with different colors that perfectly complemented her golden coloring. Her high cheekbones, bright blue-green eyes, and easy smile made her the kind of woman strangers stopped and looked at. The fact that she was adorned in high fashion and stunning jewelry only added to her allure, but easily the best thing about her was her deep, throaty laugh. It had been what entranced Eddie the first time he heard it.

“You still look good.”

Instant glower. “Still? I’m thirty-two, just like you. What’re we, dead?”

I sighed dramatically.

“You just need to get some you-know-what, but I need you to make a good impression.”

I made a noise of disgust.

She waved a hand at her oldest. “What’s with him?”

“Mrs. Latham is sad. Why is his teacher sad?”

“I’m not certain, but my understanding is that she’s been trying to have a baby, unsuccessfully so far.”

“Ah,” I said, leaning around her so I could see Toby. “Hey, buddy, look in the basket under the table for the one with the red ribbon.”

Instantly, he knelt down and started looking through the wicker baskets, moving things gently, much nicer than anyone else helping me that day.

“Now listen,” Amanda began. “When Declan gets here, I need you to be—”

“Uncle Xan,” Toby called, holding it up. “Is this the one?”

I nodded, pleased I hadn’t sold the last fertility-and-growth bottle I’d made. The potency of the spell could be directed to having children, but also in the pursuit of a creative endeavor. That was where the spell part of spell bottle came in, the intention of the one who made it after finding out the need of the person it was for. Sometimes, like for abundance and prosperity, those didn’t need a specific path. Whoever wanted a bottle or a ball or a candle for that was looking to have an influx of money with either a business doing well or in some kind of undertaking. But with others, the invocation was necessary.

“Perfect,” I told him. “Now, do you want to wrap it, or do you want me to?”

“You. Because then you can clean it and say the words so it’s good when she gets it.”

He knew. He’d watched me enough. When I prepared things for people, first I spoke over them, waking the dormant items placed inside whatever vessel I’d chosen—that put the spell into motion—and then I cleansed it and didn’t touch it again with my hands. At home, I used my kitchen mitts; when I was at the fall festival, I used one of my grandfather’s handkerchiefs.

“Okay,” I agreed, smiling at him.

I told Amanda she could have my seat, which she wanted from how quickly she sat down, but then she popped right back up to talk to some customers looking at a large piece of labradorite.

Taking the bottle from Toby, I moved away from the others and whispered words of hope and growth over the vessel I held cradled in my hands. Once done, I returned to Toby, put it down, and he handed me the piece of palo santo I’d brought with me, and my matches. When the wood was lit, I cleansed the bottle and packed the box for Toby’s teacher, placing a small sage-and-lavender smoke bundle in as well.

“Here you go, buddy,” I announced when I was done tying it up with jute.

“Thank you,” he said softly, then leaned against me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Can we go give it to her?”

“Where is she?”

“Eating by the hill with the trees.”

I told Amanda, “Your son and I will be right back. I’m counting on you.”

She gave me the thumbs-up, and I was going to tell her where the master price list was, but I realized I didn’t need to. She knew what things were worth and took into consideration the age of the stone, not just how big or small it was, just as I did when I was pricing items. And with my bottles, she knew some were harder to make and took more time. She wasn’t about to not take the work I had put into something into consideration in the selling price. At times, I devalued things I did or made because they were simple or easy for me. I was fairly sure that was true for a lot of people. They undervalued their own gifts. But Amanda had always made me see what my creations were truly worth. Just another of the many reasons I adored her.