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Mara sat down beside him, and he whispered a revealing spell. The wish leaves at their feet gathered along the footpath and started to glow with writing.
"Oh, wow." Mara bent down and picked one up to read the glowing writing. "I wish that I could get Pete to notice me." She snatched another. "I wish that I could win the lottery." She turned to Augustus. "Do people know that they are making wishes?"
"Not that I'm aware of. When people come in contact with them, their deepest wishes transfer onto the leaves," he said and nodded at the one in her hand. "See?"
Mara looked down at her leaf, read it, blushed, and quickly clutched it to her chest.
Augustus grinned. "That good? Show me."
"It's none of your business, sorcerer," Mara replied, face now flaming.
Augustus looked at his own leaf, let out a sigh, and tossed it up into the air to get lost with the others. Mara did the same, ensuring that it went on a wind current and out of his reach.
If they hadn't both been so reluctant to share, they might have been surprised to learn that Augustus's leaf had said,I wish to kiss a saint, and Mara's had said,I wish to kiss a sorcerer.
The dual nature of the wishes meant that the leaves had to agree that both wishes needed to be granted at the same time and that both the sorcerer and the saint had to believe that it wastheirwish that had come true.
After the leaves had reached that agreement, the strange magic pulled them to a nearby park where a crow read them and quickly ripped them to pieces in disgust.
The Third Cup
Love and Regret will ravage all they touch without exception, and a broken heart seldom mends well.
Fourteen
"You cannot force a miracle.A petitioner's heart, a willing spirit, and a clear mind are needed for a miracle to want to give its blessing. Miracles are not wishes. Saints are not djinn. You will give the miracle that is needed but not always wanted." — Sayings of the Blessed Crow.
Mara didn't see Augustus for the next three days. A part of her was worried that he'd somehow managed to learn of the wish on her leaf and was embarrassed by it and wanted to give her space. She was surprised by the wish herself, even though her neck tingled if he got too close to her, her mouth following if he touched her.
Wanting to kiss him when she had been drinking was one thing. Wanting to do it sober was something else entirely.
They are just leaves. What do they know?
It didn't stop her from looking outside of her windows at least three times a day, subconsciously searching for the tall sorcerer with his long overcoat, his collar turned up against the chilly fall wind.
Mara spent the rest of her time dispensing tea and miracles and reading the books she had found.
She tried not to think about the poor ghost girl and the twinge of misplaced guilt that she could be helping more people by going to them instead of expecting them to find her.
Maybe she could help Augustus with more of Melbourne's problems? That is if they both survived closing the hole in its magic.
The story about the freak storm had been troubling her. Could trying to interfere with the magic only make it worse?
These are sorcerer thoughts and problems. You are a saint. Such things are not your concern, Mara tried to tell herself, summoning Sophia's stern voice. But even her mother's lecturing no longer sounded so sure.
The real problem was that her growing friendship with Augustus made it her problem.
That evening, Mara went to turn the closed sign, and she spotted Augustus standing under the florist's awning opposite her. His face was in shadows, but his eyes were gleaming with intensity and magic and indecision.
How did no one else feel the power radiating from him? Normal people barely noticed he was there.
Mara was incapable of looking away as she opened the door and leaned against the frame. She couldn't force him to come in and share his grief. It was wrapped around him like a cloud, choking him slowly.
Mara folded her arms and refused to drop his gaze.I see you, sorcerer. Are you standing there because you are afraid of little old me?
Augustus's brow rose at the challenge in her stance.Of course, I am, saint. You aren't the one spilling your guts to a stranger.
Mara rolled her eyes.So much for the terrifying Judge of Albert Street!
