Page 123 of The Hearth Witch’s Guide to Spite & Spellwork

“Yet,” Darcy interjected.

“Yet,” Saga conceded. She forced a smile and turned her attention back to Phillip. “Darcy told us you’ve joined a Morris side,” said Saga. “Honestly, it looks pretty fun.”

“It’s great fun,” Phillip agreed. “The stick dances are my favorite. Very satisfying auditorily.”

“Do you have any performances coming up soon?”

“Oh, you don’t have to be like that.” Phillip laughed. “I understand it’s not for everyone. Darcy’s been a bit of a saint with how much practicing I’ve been doing.”

“You could stand to practice a few times without the bells. They’re a bit loud in the flat,” Darcy admitted.

“I will try to be more mindful of the jingling, darling.” They kissed. It was adorable, but it left a bit of a bright-red residue from Darcy’s lipstick on Phillip’s mustache and mouth, which began a very familiar bit between couples of rubbing at a place on your face with a hand or handkerchief and repeating the question “Did I get it?”

“Here,” Darcy offered, producing a compact mirror. She opened it for him, holding it up so he could carefully take his handkerchief and wipe the remaining crimson from his mustache and lips.

Avery rejoined Saga silently, watching the collaboration with quiet interest until they were finished and Darcy closed the compact to return it to her purse. “May I see that?”

Darcy looked from Avery to Saga, who nodded and handed it to the detective with a shrug. “It’s just a compact.”

Avery turned it over in her hands thoughtfully, opened it, and gently tapped her fingertip on the clasp on the top that enabled the compact to lock into place. It was solid, thin, and protruded past the edge, so that, were it pressed flat against something, the clasp would inevitably scrape against the surface. “What kind of metal is this?”

Darcy shrugged. “Stainless steel, I think, why?”

“Is that common for these?”

“Metal? Yeah, it’s easy to recycle and melt down for reuse.”

Avery exchanged a knowing look with Saga. This could be how the murderer was carrying the Devil’s Mirror shard safely. “It was so nice to meet you both,” she said sincerely, handing it back to Darcy. “We won’t keep you from your date.”

“It was great to meet you,” Darcy returned.

“Maybe we could all get dinner sometime?” Phillip offered. “After all, any friend of Saga’s—”

“Is someone we’d like to vet thoroughly,” finished Darcy with a smile that did not entirely seem like it was joking. She squeezed Saga’s arm, which was far more contact than Darcy normally was comfortable with. “Call me later?”

“Yeah, cheers.”

They watched the two huddle closer as they made their way into the Apple Market before purposefully going around to the other side to make their way to Hygge.

“My lipreading is a bit rusty these days. Were you talking about Morris dancing with them?” Avery took Saga’s hand as they wove through the crowd together.

“Yeah.” Saga laughed.

“Merciful fate, I can’t believe they’re still doing that.”

“Phillip’s part of a team.”

Avery paused. “Of course he is. Regardless of having known him for less than thirty seconds, I confess, out of anything said today, that is the most obvious, now that I have the facts.”

Again Saga laughed.

“I like them. They seem kind to you.”

“They are.”

“You noticed the clasp on the compact?” Avery asked as they buzzed themselves into the fake interior design office at 31½ Covent Garden Market inside the Piazza.

“That would certainly be capable of making those scratches if the killer pressed hard enough,” Saga agreed.