Page 50 of Enchanted Village

Margaret beckoning him forward, then running her finger along his jaw before leaning in to touch her lips to the soft space just beneath his ear.

These were not the thoughts of a friend, and they certainly weren’t thoughts that he could carry with him to get coffee, so he did his best to banish them by reading passages from the books that Liza had found for him in her shop. He had been quite impressed by the selection she was able to procure on such short notice, books on how non-magical science and magic wove together in unexpected ways. Theories on the connections made between the two. She’d also given him several books that offered introductions to the basics of potion making and spell construction for the non-magical audience, books she told him were meant to offer a bridge for wizards or witches born without magic.

“Born without magic?” Silas had said, crestfallen at the realization that such a thing existed. “But surely, once there’s magic in your blood, that’s that?”

Liza had gotten a faraway sort of look and had worried her lip.

“Unfortunately, it happens,” she said. “There’s no telling why, either. It’s not a matter of the strength of magical lineage or anything. It just . . . isn’t present for some reason.”

Silas couldn’t understand. Logically, genetically, how was it possible? Was it a recessive gene that occasionally emerged? And what would it be like to live in a magical family your entire life, waiting for the day your magic surfaced . . . and then discover that it never would?

“Unbearable,” Silas had said without thinking, and Liza had quietly agreed.

After roughly thirty minutes of reading the books, Silas felt that his mind had been sufficiently turned from Margaret to what made a successful potion and how potion making was a delicate art, and he felt ready to emerge from his quaint room to the rest of Hex Hollow. It wasn’t snowing this morning, but a layer of snow remained over the town from yesterday. It hadn’t yet turned to slush, clear evidence of some kind of preservation or other such charm. How else could it still sparkle in the sunlight?

Around him, the village was still coming to life, early as it still was, with the sun just peeking over the Emberwind castle in the distance.

He stopped in to see Sarah and found the coffee shop mostly empty, which suited him just fine.

“Am I the first customer of the day?” Silas asked.

“Afraid that most magical folk consider nine in the morning to be the break of dawn,” the witch said, returning Silas’s chuckle with her own easy laugh. “How’s it going with Margaret?”

Silas chuckled again. “Don’t get me into trouble, now.”

Soon, he was seated in the corner, near the bat-corgi creature that he’d recently learned was named Gerry. At the sight of Silas, Gerry had flopped onto his belly and let his tongue loll out as his leathery tail thwapped on the floor.

Silas settled in from there, eating his way through his second pastry and drinking his coffee as he tucked into a copy of Hex Hollow Happenings, a magical newspaper that shifted the headlines according to what Silas said he was interested in. There was information about a visit from Santa Claus—who would be flying in, naturally—in front of the Hex Hollow Christmas tree, plus opportunities for young people to pet the reindeer who would be pulling the sleigh.

There was also a reminder about the friendly—friendly was underlined three times—shop-decorating competition that Liza had been fixated on for weeks. Silas scanned the article, chuckling at the words it’s anyone’s guess which Hex Hollow institution can bring the best Christmas cheer this year. Sure. Anyone’s guess, though the true competition had clearly narrowed to Liza and Patrick.

Silas continued to read, finally coming upon a feature article that made his eyes narrow instantly.

Patrick Kerrigan: Hex Hollow’s Newest Shopkeeper and Local Rising Star!

Patrick Kerrigan, renowned wizard known for his epic travels, has decided to lay down his roots in our very own Hex Hollow. Mr. Kerrigan’s brand-new Fox Bar will be opening this weekend and promises to be a truly enchanting destination. Taking over the empty space at the end of Hex Lane, Fox Bar promises inventive, bewitching cocktails made from recipes from all over the globe, plus a mesmerizing dance floor, raucous entertainment, and a five-star food menu. Mr. Kerrigan also assures us that he’s spared no expense in making magic the star of the show at his bar, having employed some of the area’s finest sorcerers to create jaw-dropping demonstrations that will keep guests racing back for more.

“Damn. They used my worst picture.”

Silas stilled as a shadow appeared over his newspaper, and he turned to see Patrick Kerrigan himself looking over Silas’s shoulder.

“Ah, Mr. Kerrigan,” Silas said. “We meet again.”

Silas moved to stand to shake the man’s hand, but Patrick waved him off.

“Don’t get up on my account,” Patrick said.

“Well then, can I interest you in joining me?” Silas asked, gesturing to the empty chair across from him.

Patrick arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure Liza won’t murder you on the spot for talking to me? Or Margaret, even?”

Silas laughed. “Good point.”

Still, Patrick idled. He glanced over his shoulder, and Silas followed his gaze to where Sarah was glaring at him as if she could launch ice picks into his skull directly with her eyes. Patrick cleared his throat as he turned back around.

“Well, I can see I may not be welcome here,” he said. “That witch of yours certainly has some starkly loyal friends. I’m honestly surprised this one even served me.”

He glanced down at his drink, making a face. “Do you think it’s poisoned?”