Two hours later, Elm managed to pull our mangled cart into town and to the woodsmith’s shop. The older man circled our cart for what felt like an eternity, making noncommittal noises that only made me more anxious.
Adelaide and Elm stood outside his thatched-roof shop, both speaking in low tones. Auggie stood by Elm, clutching on to his arm. Prue had found a bench nearby, a book in hand.
“Elspeth, quit biting your nails,” Mama scolded. And Mama was watching me, apparently. “People are staring.”
She looked over her shoulder, and my gaze followed hers to the winding dirt road filled with carts and businesses, witches darting in and out with their wares. And many of them were staring directly at us.
“They’re not staring because I’m biting my nails,” I said in a low voice.
Thistlegrove was clearly a small town.
Mama grabbed my hand and pushed it down, smiling and nodding at the people passing by the woodsmith’s shop, who were peering at us a little too closely.
“Oh, stop being so paranoid.” Mama wiggled her fingers at a fewpassersby, and they averted their eyes and hurried along. She nudged me. “I thought Elm had taken a liking to Auggie, but he doesn’t have eyes for anyone but Adelaide. Don’t they just look adorable together?”
I snorted. “They barely know each other. We just met him hours ago.”
“Oh, Elspeth.” Mama tsked. “Have you never heard of love at first sight?”
I gaped at my mama. “That is not what’s happening. Everyone falls in love with Adelaide at first sight.”
How could they not? My older sister was gorgeous, and she didn’t even realize it, which only made her more alluring with her soft-spoken nature, her kindness, how she went out of her way to please everyone, often neglecting her own feelings in the process.
“Now you’re biting your bottom lip,” Mama said. “Honestly, Elspeth, can you stop worrying? We’re in a beautiful town.” She spread her arms and gestured to the quaint buildings with moss on their roofs, the cute little road, the green forest in the distance, and the sound of a rushing river. “Elm has offered to set us up with somewhere to live. We’re very fortunate, you know.”
That was the other thing. Where was Elm planning on us staying? Would he pay for our rooms at the local inn? I shifted from foot to foot at the thought. He’d also likely be staying at the inn, giving him access to us at all times. Plus, inns in small towns like these were busy places. There were always travelers stopping for a night or two, which was why we chose to camp on the outskirts of towns. It was safer. Less exposure to so many people.
“We’re not taking his charity,” I said firmly. “We’ve spent years camping, and we can continue to do so.”
Mama stuck out her bottom lip. “You are such a killjoy, you know that? I’m tired of sleeping outdoors, roughing it all the time. Oh, my back. My poor joints.” She stretched dramatically. “When are you girls going to take care of me for a change?”
I crossed my arms. We were hardly roughing it. We’d invested in quite a few spelled items that made it almost the same as sleeping indoors somewhere. Bedrolls that stayed warm or cool depending on the weather. A tent that protected us from all kinds of weather elements. Wood that always burned. It had served us well and saved us money inthe long run since those valuable items meant we could stay on the outer edges of town, out of sight and safe.
Prue ran up to us, out of breath, her spectacles slipping down her nose and her curly brown hair flying in all directions.
My heart rate spiked. “Prue, what’s wrong?”
I grabbed her arms, looking her over for any signs she’d been hurt.
“Well, spit it out, Prue.” Mama tapped her foot. “What’s going on?”
“The bookstore is just down the road!” Prue burst out, speaking so fast I had a hard time understanding her.
She pointed to the little building, and I squinted at the wooden post standing in front of it. “Enchanted Pages,” the sign read.
“Two people passed by the bench I was sitting on, and one of them was talking about wanting a new book, and the other one said, ‘Well, why don’t we go now? It’s just down the road.’” She grabbed my hands. “Can I go? I can make an account and get myself a few books while we’re here.” She held up her current book, a dark blue cover with gold lettering. “I’ve been dying to read the sequel to this one.”
“Of course you can, dear,” Mama said, and I shot her a look.
“Maybe we should wait until we get the prognosis for the cart?—”
“Oh, nonsense.” Mama smiled at Prue and handed her a fistful of gold coins. “You go and get yourself a few books.”
Prue squealed, a sound I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard her make.
She threw her arms around us, the book in her hand slamming into the back of my head. “Oh, thank you, thank you. I’ll be back in an hour.” She paused. “Maybe a few.” She squealed again and rushed off down the winding road, lined with businesses on either side.
“Was that smart?” I asked. “We don’t need to draw more attention to ourselves than we already have, and we don’t exactly have the money to buy new books.”
