Page 16 of Magic's Rise

Laughter fills the air as I push him back while Ros pulls him, and we all get back to work.

The coven booth bustles with activity as Delilah and Amberlynn direct us in setting up for the big day. Crisp, autumn air carries the scent of pumpkin spice and caramel corn, making me drool as I try to identify which stalls might need a taste tester.

The thought sends a pang of guilt through me. I’m supposed to be at Jesse’s place right now, but I just can’t do another day of apple pie. It will break my soul. And my gag reflex.

“Rowe, could you help me put price tags on these potions and charms?” Delilah tucks a curl of auburn hair behind her ear, exposing the streak of silver at her temple.

She holds up a tray of items to be sold at the festival.

“Of course.” I abandon basket duty and grab the roll of price tags from the table beside her, along with the printed list of prices. Picking up a tiny vial, I study the sparkling green liquid it contains. “What have we got here? Kiddy slime or a growth serum?”

“Ah, that one’s a growth serum for plants.” She points to a larger vial of electric green. “This one is the slime.”

“Save me one of those!” Tris calls out. “I know just the person I want to slime.”

“Haut’s going to kill you.” I check the price on the list and make a mental note to pay for the slime later as I tuck it into my pocket.

The coven had really gone all out for this event.

The booth bursts at the seams in an explosion of color and magic, stuffed full of trinkets and enchantments designed to delight and entertain.

Hand-painted signs declare Charms for luck!, Potions to heal!, and Spells for every occasion! Rows of intricate dream catchers and wind chimes dance in the breeze, their melodic tinkling adding to the festive atmosphere.

“Hey, Rowe, can you hand me that box of candles?” Ambros calls out.

I set down the vial in my hand and grab the box of birthday candles. As I walk them to the front where he stands with Tris, I admire the way he pulled back his shoulder-length hair, leaving his classical features on full display.

A charming smile flashes, displaying his small fangs as he takes it from me. “Thanks.”

Pulse tripping as memories of last night return, I lean across the opening. “That’s all I get?”

He bends toward me. “You were expecting something more?”

“Back, you horny wench!” Tris smacks me with the soft end of the broom. “Save the kissy face for later!”

Ros takes that broom from him, too. “You wouldn’t be saying that if it was your face she was kissing.”

“That is correct. But since it’s not…” Tris waves another broom in threat. “Don’t make me put you two in separate corners.”

Laughing, I retreat to my table to stick more price tags on potions and toys.

As we continue to set up the booth, though, my thoughts turn to Silver Hollow and the werewolf pack that resides there. The festival requires all of my attention, but my curiosity won’t let it go.

I feel pulled to help, and it’s not just because I want to skip out on the rest of all the festival prepping. Who knew a week-long party took so much effort? And stomach space?

A sudden whiff of apples and pie crust reach me, and I peer through the booth opening to see Jesse cutting his way through the crowd.

Panic flares through me, and I duck under the counter. “Tell him I’m not here!”

“Have any of you seen Rowe?” Jesse’s voice breaks through the sound of festival workers. “She’s supposed to be taste-testing pies with me right now.”

“Sorry, haven’t seen her,” Ros says without a hint of the lie in his words.

Tris, on the other hand, barely contains his laughter, which really isn’t helpful.

Jesse draws closer. “I can smell you, Rowe. I know you’re here!”

“This is not the Rowe you’re looking for!” I grab a mask and put it on, then pop up from behind the counter. “There’s just a sad, cursed wolf with no taste buds. Such terrible timing.”

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