Page 41 of Upside Down Magic

Itdidn’t feel any different.Ithadn’t suddenly grown a bad aura or begun oozing menacing vibes.Itwas still my lovely shop, with my lovely furniture, with the warm hardwood floors and the old, sturdy counter.

Wasmy magic not strong enough to detect the spell?

Butthat was one of the downsides of magic—it could be detected as long as the spell or ward were active or had beenused recently.Evendark magic couldn’t wipe that side effect of it—all power must have a downside.

Maybeit was some kind of magical allergy to something benign?Ihad introduced some new tea blends in the menu during the last couple of weeks, so maybe that was it?

Butthen everyone would be sick to some extent, or at least it’d be centered on one type of paranormal, not witches, mages, and shifters.

No.Itwas something about my shop.Maybeits past as a murder house had finally caught up to it.Maybesomething about the building was inherently wrong, and that was why so much calamity had happened here.

Whywas my shop, which was supposed to be a haven for the paranormal community, making paranormals sick?

Thequestion sat like an unendurable weight on my chest.

Thisshop, and me by extension, was making people sick.

Theantithesis of everythingIstood for.

“Grandma,”Iwhispered toward the whereabouts of my bedroom above, “why amImaking people sick?”

Therewas no answer.Theshop remained silent, the noises from the outside filtering in and giving it a normal, mundane atmosphere.Somewherein the backyard,RufusandFluffywere waiting for me to go pet them, as they always did.

Iyearned to go to them, to callIanand have him make everything okay.

ButIcouldn’t.

Brimstone,Shane, andLilianhad gotten sick because of me and my shop.Itwas my responsibility to fix things.AndifIcouldn’t, then maybeIdidn’t deserve theTeaCauldronafter all.

THIRTEEN

Iwiped my eyes,sniffled, and brought out my phone.

IttookBrimstoneabout five rings to pick up.

“I’mnot going to work today,” he said in a groggy voice. “Ihad a job?—”

“Isyour magic working?”Icut in with a slight bobble to my voice.Isniffled again and hoped he hadn’t heard that.

“Mymagic?”

“Isit working?”

Silencefell through the call, then there was a sharp inhale andIwanted to sink through the floor.Threeout of three.

“Witch,” he exclaimed, fully awake now. “Whereis my fire?”

Iclosed my eyes tightly, trying to stop more tears from flooding out. “I’msorry,”Iwhispered. “Mypotion was not potent enough.”

“Somake another.”Surprisingly, there was no outrage in his voice.Alittle testiness, sure, but it lacked any kind of condemnation.

“Iwill,Iswear.I’llfigure out how to help.”

“Ofcourse you will,” he said matter-of-factly. “Iexpect another potion by the end of the day.”Hehung up.

Again, no bite to his voice.Justthe facts, plain and simple.

Hehad no doubtsI’dfix this.Hehad faith in me.EvenafterIhad hidden the nature of his dark magic potions, even after my potion had worn off in less than two days.

---