Adelaide shrugged. “There’s not much sense of community here anymore, from what I’ve gathered. Not since Witch Superior started doling out harsher laws. It scared people, made them keep to themselves more, become less trusting. So the Gathering Hall has become obsolete.”
The thought made me sad. My gaze lingered on the building as an older man hobbled up to us, his wand elongated into a cane that he used to help him walk. It was a clever spell.
He sniffed the air and turned his beady gaze on us, his chin jutting out. “What’s this, then?” He pointed his cane at our stand.
“Soup,” I said brightly. “Wild mushroom and potato.”
“Don’t know about that.” He shook his head. “Soup. So simple. Could make it at home. Witches’ll try and sell anything these days.”
Adelaide and I looked at each other while Mama whirled around, wand pointed at the man.
The man’s eyes widened. “Are you threatening me?” he asked.
“No.” I laughed as I put a hand on Mama’s arm to make her lower it. “Not at all. Mama is just inviting you to have a taste.”
The man grunted in response, but he didn’t say no. I nodded at Mama, and she ladled some soup into a small cup. We’d decided on two sizes: a cup or a bowl, depending on how hungry the customers were. We’d also found some flour in the cabinets and baked bread to go along with it. Well, Adelaide baked the bread.
The man accepted the cup and spoon and took a sip. He grunted again.
“You can just return the cup and spoon when you’re done.” I gestured to the empty basket meant for dirty dishes.
His eyes shifted back and forth, then he shook his head and reached into his pocket, pulling out a few gold coins and slamming them on the table. “Soup,” he muttered as he walked away, but I couldn’t help but notice he was eating it.
“Forgive old man Veldar,” a woman said as she approached.
Her shoulder-length black hair was slicked back, a waxiness to her alabaster skin. Fangs peeked out from the sides of her mouth.
A vampire.
I wondered what she was doing in the Witchlands. There were strict residency laws—only those with magic were allowed to reside here permanently. Those from other lands could visit and live here for short amounts of time if they had express permission from Witch Superior and the appropriate documents.
The vampire leaned forward, inhaling deeply. “Mushrooms.” She flashed her fangs. “My favorite.” She rubbed her belly, and I realized she was wearing a deep red tunic tucked into sleek leather-black trousers. A long black cape fluttered around her in the breeze.
Adelaide gulped.
The vampire looked at us expectantly. “I’d like a bowl.”
“Of course.” I nodded at Mama, who was staring with an open mouth at the vampire. We didn’t see many of them in the Witchlands, not after the centuries-old conflict that existed between our species. We weren’t at war anymore, but tension still hung thick between us. It was rumored that Witch Superior recently stormed out of what was supposed to be a peace meeting between the two realms.
Mama ladled some soup into a bowl and pushed it toward the vampire with her wand like she was afraid if she got too close, she’d get bitten.
“The name is Helena,” the vampire said, nodding at us. “And you haven’t made it in Thistlegrove until old man Veldar has berated you.”
I looked at the old man, who was still eating his soup—now in front of a stand full of rare ingredients needed for certain spells: eyeballs,toenails, rabbit’s feet, dragon talons, griffon teeth, and more. It looked like he was arguing with the owner about something.
“Well, that’s good to know,” I said as she took a sip, her eyes flicking down to me and Adelaide’s aprons. I cursed myself inwardly. We’d forgotten our wands today. I wondered if Helena noticed.
“Mm.” Her gaze snapped to Mama. “Now that’s just delicious.”
Mama smiled broadly, clearly being won over. “Well, thank you.” She sniffed. “But it’s my daughter’s recipe.” She tipped her head toward Adelaide.
“My compliments to the chef,” Helena said, her gaze searching for something.
My pulse spiked, and I reminded myself to be calm. It was ridiculous to think Helena would notice something as simple as our missing wands. She wasn’t even a witch.
“So Helena, what brings a vampire to the Witchlands?” Adelaide asked.
I shot her a look. It was nice to have paying customers, but if we asked too many questions, others were likely to ask questions of us. Something I wanted to avoid.
