One
ELSPETH
It was never a good sign when a witch wanted a love potion.
The witch in question stood in front of our cart, a countertop between us, as she planted her hands on the wood and glared at me. “I can see the potion right there.” She pointed to the bottles of brightly colored liquid sitting on the shelf behind me. “I’m telling you I know a love potion when I see one.”
The sun barely peeked through the thick cover of clouds, its light haloing her mop of curly red hair. A chill bit the air, and goosebumps prickled along my arms. The breeze picked up, dirt from the road where our cart was parked swirling behind the witch.
I grabbed the sage-colored potion from the shelf next to me and popped open the cork. Sage smoke swirled up into the air in front of us. “I’m telling you it’s not worth it,” I said, shaking the bottle, the liquid inside sloshing around. I shoved the cork back in. “Whatever man you’re trying to snag, a potion won’t fix the problems between you. You can’t magic him into loving you. Not for real.”
She stuck out her bottom lip, which trembled ever so slightly. Now I felt bad. Sort of. I was actually saving her a world of trouble. She justdidn’t realize it yet. But if she had to seek out a love potion to get his attention, then whatever was between them clearly wasn’t love.
She shoved her hand in the pocket of her apron and pulled out a fistful of gold coins, slamming them on the counter. “Are you running a business or not?”
I leaned forward, pushing the coins back toward her, slow and intentional. “I decide who I sell to. My potions. My rules.”
Technically these weren’t my potions. They were my mother’s. But semantics.
“What is going on here?”
I winced at the familiar singsong voice. Mama and my sisters were back earlier than expected. Well, sister.
Mama and my youngest sister, Prue, approached, Prue with her nose stuck in a book as usual. Auggie and Adelaide must have still been at the market.
Mama patted her round cheeks, red from the cold. “Is there a problem?”
“Yes.” The woman gestured to me, and I straightened my shoulders. “She won’t sell me a love potion.”
“Oh, not this again,” Mama said with an admonishing gaze.
Prue lowered the book she was reading to stare at me through her round spectacles. She opened her mouth to say something, then raised the book again and walked toward the back of the cart, ignoring all of us.
“I’m simply trying to steer her away from a bad decision,” I said evenly, swiping the bangs from my forehead.
“Oh, hush, you.” Mama bustled up to the cart, opening the little door in the back and stepping in. She sidled over and bumped me with her hip, smiling brightly at the woman. “So it’s one love potion you’d like?” She leaned forward like she was telling the woman a secret. “You know, two can be more effective. Especially if you throw in some”—she turned, surveying the herbs hanging from the ceiling by little strings—“rotwart.” She grabbed the stalks of bright blue herbs tied together with a ribbon and laid it on the counter. “These won’t just make him more amenable to love but to other things as well.” She waggled her eyebrows.
“Oh.” The woman’s eyes widened with understanding, and I grimaced. “Yes, I’ll have the potion and two of the rotwart.”
I glared at Mama while she ignored me.
She took the woman’s gold and handed over one bottle of the sparkling sage liquid and the herbs. The woman continued her way down the dirt road, humming to herself, probably thinking she just solved all her problems with that purchase.
“Honestly, Elspeth.” Mama turned to me as she smoothed out her frizzy gray hair, pulled up in a bun. “I leave you alone for twenty minutes and come back to you harassing a customer.”
I pressed my lips into a thin line. “I just don’t think love potions are the answer to her problems.”
Especially not when they didn’t do as advertised. No magic could make a person change their feelings if those feelings didn’t already exist. If they did, the magic nudged them to admit it. The witch likely knew this, but desperation made people do stupid things.
“And why is it not the answer?” Mama planted her hands on her wide hips. “Because some man broke your heart? So every man must be the same? Unworthy and unlovable?”
Prue snorted from somewhere behind the cart.
Mama shook a finger at me. “Those are our best sellers, and you’re going to sabotage our entire business with this attitude of yours.” She folded her arms onto the counter and sank her head into them.
“Here we go,” I muttered as she sobbed dramatically.
“I did everything right,” she said, voice muffled. “Everything I could to raise four strong, smart women, and what do I get for it all?” She shot up, peering at me with her narrowed chestnut eyes that were suspiciously absent of any tears. “Ungratefulability.”
