Page 1 of Eggsactly the Right Gargoyle

Chapter 1—Talia

I’M UP TO MY ELBOWSin soil, whispering encouragement to a particularly stubborn batch of moonflower seedlings, when the bell above the door of The Enchanted Espresso jingles. I don’t look up immediately because these seedlings need some serious pep talks to bloom properly for next week’s full moon. “Come on, little ones,” I murmur, channeling a thin stream of solar magic into the soil. “You can do this. Just a little stretch toward the light.”

The seedlings quiver, their tiny stems straightening ever so slightly. Progress.

“Talking to plants again, Talia?” Bella Brewster’s voice carries from behind the counter. “Those moonflowers giving you trouble?”

“They’re just shy,” I say, finally looking up. “Nothing a little sunshine pep talk can’t fix.”

Bella slides my usual across the counter—iced coffee with lavender syrup, and the ice cubes are shaped like tiny suns. Her familiar, Hecate, perches on a nearby stool, tail swishing with interest.

“Those flowers better cooperate,” says Hecate. “Last time you brought in rebellious plants, they tried to climb up the walls.”

“That was an accident.” I wipe my hands on my dirt-smudged apron. “The ivy was just...enthusiastic.”

I take my coffee and settle at my favorite table by the window, where my seedlings are arranged in a semicircle of tinyterracotta pots. The window seat gives me the perfect amount of natural light for both plant work and people-watching.

“How’s the herb garden coming along?” asks Bella, wiping down the counter. “Grizelda mentioned she might need extra chamomile for her pregnancy tea.”

“Growing like crazy,” I say. “The chamomile practically jumps into the basket when I mention Grizelda’s name. I think they’re excited to help with the baby.”

The door jingles again, and the entire café seems to shift. Not physically, though in Evershift Haven, that wouldn’t be unusual, but the energy changes dramatically. I turn to see Grizelda Greenwarth attempting to navigate through the door, which is no small feat considering her current state.

Grizelda is magnificent in her pregnancy. Her wild mane of silver-streaked purple hair seems more animated than usual, coiling and uncoiling like tentacles as she concentrates on balancing a clipboard, a large cup of something steamy, and her enormous belly. Her flowing robes today are a riot of spring color in yellows, greens, and pinks that seem to shimmer and change patterns as she moves. Her pale-green skin has a healthy glow that makes her look almost luminous.

She waddles—there’s really no other word for it—toward my table, her gaze fixed on me with such intensity that I instinctively sit up straighter. The seedlings in front of me tremble slightly.

“Talia Brightwell,” she says, her voice carrying throughout the café. “Just the witch I need.”

“Good morning, Grizelda,” I say, trying to sound casual while mentally reviewing anything I might have done wrong recently. “How are you feeling?”

“Enormous. Uncomfortable. Magical.” She drops into the chair across from me with a heavy sigh. The chair, wisely, adjusts itself to better accommodate her. “The baby did something peculiar this morning, and all the spoons in our kitchen turnedinto butterflies. Atlas spent an hour chasing them around before work.”

I smile at the image of Atlas Mountainheart, all seven feet of muscular troll, delicately pursuing butterflies around their kitchen.

“Sounds like the little one is already taking after their mother,” I say.

“Hmph.” Grizelda takes a sip from her cup, which smells like a combination of raspberry leaf tea and something distinctly magical. She places her clipboard on the table with such ceremony that several of my seedlings lean away from it. I glance down and see “OSTARA FESTIVAL” written across the top in Grizelda’s elaborate, swirling handwriting. Beneath it is a dizzying array of lists, diagrams, and what appears to be a choreography chart for...dancing flowers?

“The Ostara Festival is coming way too soon,” says Grizelda, patting her belly, “And I am entirely too pregnant to oversee flower choreography or manage the spring magic surge or coordinate the sunrise ritual or—” She waves her hand, causing her cup to hover momentarily before settling back on the table. “Any of it, really.”

My stomach drops as I begin to understand where this conversation is heading. “That’s unfortunate,” I say carefully. “I’m sure the town council can find someone to—”

“I’ve already spoken to Ambrosius,” she interrupts, referring to our venerable wizard mayor. “He agrees with my choice of replacement.” She stares at me expectantly, her purple eyes gleaming.

“Me?” I squeak. “You want me to coordinate the Ostara Festival?”

“Who better than our resident sun witch?” Grizelda beams. “The festival celebrates the spring equinox, the balance of lightand dark, the return of growth and warmth. Your magic is perfectly aligned with the occasion.”

“But I’ve only been in Evershift Haven for eight months. I barely know how the festival works, let alone how to coordinate it.”

“Details.” Grizelda dismisses that with a wave of her hand. A few sparks fly from her fingertips, causing my coffee to momentarily change color before settling back to normal. “Everything you need to know is in here.”

From behind the counter, Bella gives me a sympathetic look. “The Ostara Festival can get a bit...intense,” she says diplomatically.

“Remember last year when all the egg hunt prizes hatched into those singing mayflies that wouldn’t stop serenading everyone?” asks Hecate.

“Minor hiccups,” says Grizelda, waving her hand dismissively again. Another small thunder cloud forms above her head, drizzling lightly before dissipating. “The point is, Talia, your solar magic will be perfect for stabilizing the spring energy. The festival needs someone who can channel excess magic safely.”

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