Chapter 5
A WOLF IN WIZARD’S CLOTHING
Effie
If you invited Effie to wax lyrical about her perfect day, it would not involve visiting Uncle Oswald’s shop. Of all the humans in Yellowbrick Grove, Uncle Oswald was among those she least wanted to spend time around, and that included Bonnie’s Greek chorus of harpies. (All right, so she was mixing her mythologies – though remixes were in, judging by the borrowing uptick she’d seen in genre mashups.)
But Uncle Oswald had apparently dug up a photo of Mom that he thought she might like, and she wasn’t about to say no to that. Even though she knew that the gift was almost certainly not without strings. Uncle Oswald was absolutely going to request that Effie gently hex some of his crystals or apply a charm to his useless potions. Depending on the quality of the photo, she might give some of his nicer products a light glimmer, but that was where her assistance would end.
Fortunately, Tessa was coming along for moral support, although this was less about helping Effie fend off Uncle Oswald’s endless beseeching requests and more about the cat statue one of the townsfolk had told her about: the one that apparently Uncle Oswald had sourced from an Egyptian vendor of all things magical. Tessa and her cousin Claudette, who lived in rural South Carolina, had a running bet where they bought each other cat figurines and paraphernalia, a gamethat would only ever end if one of them bought the other a piece she already had. They’d been going strong with it for over a decade, and the cats were getting more obscure and increasingly abstract. There were a few that Effie wasn’t entirely sure sat under the feline umbrella, but she wasn’t about to bring that up and risk having to play cat statue adjudicator.
‘Cat statue. Lyra photo. We both win.’ Tessa tied back her cloud of curls with a bandanna and rolled up the cuffs of her jeans before unchaining her bike from the novelty rack outside the library, which was made from curved yellow metal shaped to spell out READ. Balancing on one pedal, she rode alongside Effie, who was on foot. ‘Although next time you should bring your skates.’
‘Shh!’ Swiping her white streak of hair behind her ear, Effie glanced around. She’d been learning to roller-skate on her days off, and the last few times she had even managed to travel in a straight line without falling on her butt. But she definitely didn’t need Bonnie finding out about her efforts. Or worse, Alana, who would spread the news around town like some highly contagious disease until it somehow ended up on Kirsty’s blog.
‘All right, all right.’ Tessa pushed her oversized glasses up her nose – only Tessa could make a giant’s glasses look good. ‘Thanks for squeezing it in on your break, though. I know it’s hard to leave the siren call of the book stacks. And the very exciting peanut butter and jelly sandwich I know you packed.’
‘On extra-seedy brown bread,’ agreed Effie, shooting Tessa a grin. All right, so maybe she could stand to be atadmore adventurous in life. ‘And it was almost as hard as leaving the twins, I bet.’
Tessa chuckled. In the past year she’d given up a lucrative accounting career for the much lower-stress job of walking the neighbourhood dogs. Although this was a financiallyquestionable choice, it was mostly a great one – except when it came to the two extremely barky, extremely vicious chihuahuas that she and Effie had nicknamed the twins. Effie had never met any other creatures so murderously inclined. Anyone who came within six feet of them feared for their ankles. But worrying about your ankles was preferable to having to desperately piece together a company’s finances using the receipts they’d shoved into a plastic bag.
‘So, how’s the new guy in town?’ asked Tessa shrewdly, once they were headed towards the town square. ‘Did you get to meet him?’
Effie grimaced. ‘I did. He was appropriately baffled by how little I resemble the great and charismatic Bonnie.’
Tessa curved her bike around a bright wildflower growing up from a crack in the ground. ‘One of those, huh.’
‘One of the many. At least they always get it out of the way fast.’
‘It’s better than wondering, I suppose.’ Tessa lapsed into silence, frowning. Effie suspected she was wondering about Alana, whose yoga sessions she’d been assiduously attending since the studio had opened. Tessa had never openly mentioned her crush, but she’d clearly been pining for the least evil of the harpy entourage since their high-school days.
‘How’s teen crochet night coming along?’ asked Effie presently, trying to change the subject from love and feelings, two things that usually only resulted in pain. Just look at the entire gothic romance genre.
‘Oh, we’re going to have a blast! We’re doing turtles in honour of Shelby’s hundredth birthday.’ In addition to being exceptional at mathematics, Tessa was also exceptional at crafts, and was capable of creating cute things via any craft method you could dream up. She hosted the teens craft club at the library, and always got rave reviews. In the past few months, she’d helped her loyal gang of thirteen-year-olds bead pens, make stained glass, and fashion friendship braceletsfor each other. Next up, according to the photo Tessa was flashing on her bedazzled phone as she coasted along, was crochet turtles.
‘We should definitely do a turtle display,’ mused Effie. ‘Although is it really Shelby’s centenary?’
Tessa grinned mischievously. ‘That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. Besides, it’s rude to ask a turtle their age.’
They were downtown now, cruising up to the picturesque square, all brightly painted gabled buildings covered with ivy and hanging flower baskets and cheerful shrubs in enormous pots. Sculptures and murals adorned every side wall and plinth, and curved streetlights glowed with antique globes. Outside the old bank, Carlos the busker strummed away at his guitar. A few families were sitting on the steps listening, their kids dancing and clapping away in time with his upbeat tunes.
There were so many reasons to love the town, and with its charming shops and picnic benches, the town square was definitely somewhere at the top of the list. Well, except for the rent-a-scooters that were constantly strewn all over. When Effie was alone, she’d either haul or magic them back into their racks.
‘Obstacle course incoming.’ With Effie in tow, Tessa carefully wove her bike around a clump of scooters.
The cheerful tune of Carlos’s guitar followed them as they made their way across the bumpy cobblestones of the square and down the alleyway that housed Uncle Oswald’s shop. Dreamily painted with a sprawling mural of night-blooming flowers, and strung back and forth with rows of cafe lights, the alleyway was a favourite of the influencer set and tipsy couples. Tessa leaned her bike on the wall outside Uncle Oswald’s shop, a wonky brick building painted black and patterned with splotches of gold, set between a gourmet spice shop and a small art gallery sponsored by the college. The shop’s window display featured two crystal hands whosefingers were draped with glittering gold charms and their palms stacked with gleaming rock cairns. Around them were candles of all shapes and sizes, each with their prices proudly displayed.
Painted in huge gold letters on the façade were the wordsBehind the Curtain.
‘All right. Let’s go get a weird cat sculpture!’ Tessa made cat claws with her stubby nails.
Family awkwardness, here I come. Effie squared her shoulders, preparing to be assaulted with incense-thick air and the warbling tones of Enya, and followed her friend in.
A gong rumbled through the room as they stepped over the threshold, pushing their way through the clinking beaded curtain that overhung the door. Inside, the shop was a rabbit warren of kitschy, pricey displays: there was nothing that didn’t have a handwritten price tag hanging from it. Yin and yang tapestries hung from the ceiling, while Turkish rugs covered every inch of the floor in floral splendour. Salt lamps spilled magma-hued light over towers of Wadjet eye magnets and the alien-head pins spilling out of myriad crystal bowls. Black and purple tea candles formed pyramids on the rickety furniture, while the bowls of tumbled crystals reminded Effie of the vegetable displays at the Sunday farmers’ market that set up in the square.
Bells and chimes jangled as Tessa brushed past them in search of her cat sculpture. Effie, hurrying after her, stubbed her toe on a massive geode. She swore, sparking her magic at it to increase its visibility for the next unsuspecting guest.
But things were about to get even worse than a toe-stubbing. Uncle Oswald had emerged, and was schooling a group of students in the healing properties of crystals.
