Page 1 of Elora and the Crow

CHAPTER1

“Crows are harbingers of death, you know.”

Elora bit back her immediate urge to mutter a tongue binding spell aimed at the faceless voice behind her. One, the Witches and Warlocks Council would fine her for the spell, and two, while Charissa probably wouldn’t fire her for using the spell on a customer, she would be disappointed in Elora.

Disappointing Charissa was nearly as awful as disappointing Elora’s grandmother or sister.

Elora slid the spell book back onto the shelf behind the counter, plastered a ‘how can I help you’ smile on her face, and turned around.

The voice belonged to a white woman in her early thirties. She wore a long, dark cloak, foundation too pale for her skin, and truly impressive black eyeliner wings. A dragonfly clip held her dyed red hair in a twist, and some rather hideous looking costume jewelry weighed her down.

Elora was still hit and miss on whether she could recognize if a witch were a witch by blood or apprentice, but she had no problem with this particular customer. The faint lilac shimmer surrounding her was a dead giveaway to her blood magic. Humans, paranormals, and other magical creatures wouldn’t notice the shimmer, and plenty of witches wouldn’t either, but as Elora’s powers grew, so did her ability to see the colourful iridescent auras that surrounded the more powerful witches and warlocks.

The witch stared at the large black crow sitting on the perch behind the counter. “When did Charissa get a familiar?”

Elora tried not to bristle. “Lilianna is not Charissa’s familiar.”

The witch turned her gaze to Elora. “So, she’s yours?”

“She’s no one’s familiar,” Elora said. “Her life is her own to do as she wishes.”

“Be careful with the bird,” the witch said. “She is no ordinary crow.”

“I’m aware,” Elora said stiffly. She was trying not to be insulted and failing badly. Did the woman think Elora was new to the craft?

“I don’t recognize you,” the witch said haughtily. “Did Charissa just hire you?”

She pronounced Charissa’s name correctly - Ka-ree-sa - which meant she knew Elora’s boss well, so Elora needed to be even more polite than she usually was with customers.

“Elora’s worked here for over a year, Deidre.” Charissa pushed past the curtain that separated the back room from the shop. Her ink-coloured curls fell in a shiny, bouncy mass to her shoulders, and she wore faded jeans and a boho top. Around her neck, the witch’s knot pendant surrounded by a red pearl resin gleamed against her dark skin.

The green shimmer surrounding Charissa was a dark forest green instead of its usual emerald. She was annoyed about something.

Charissa stopped next to Lilianna, and the crow dipped her head to rub her beak across Charissa’s curls. She stroked the crow’s back with one finger before smiling at Deidre. “It’s been nearly fourteen months since you’ve been in the shop.”

Deidre gave her a startled look. “Have I been gone that long?”

“Yes.” Charissa stood next to Elora behind the counter. “The Pilgrimage of Sun and Stars often interferes with a witch or warlock’s ability to keep track of time.”

“It’s true,” Deidre said with a loud sigh. “I mean, it’s worth it, but I have been a bit… absentminded because of it.”

She glanced again at Lilianna. “That isn’t just a crow, you know.”

Elora wondered if Charissa would object if she made Deirdre the recipient of a sour jar spell.

“I’m aware. What can I help you with today, Deidre?” Charissa said.

Elora slipped past Charissa without waiting to hear Deirdre’s reply. Another customer, in his early twenties and with the earnest look of a newbie, hovered at the plants and herbs wall, staring intently at the bunches of dried herbs in clear packaging, potted plants, and powders in glass jars.

As Elora joined him, she stared at the small leather charm bag he held in his right hand. No shimmering aura surrounded him, but Elora didn’t need to see an aura to know he was a warlock by apprentice, not by blood.

Some apprentice witches and warlocks just had a look about them and were easy to spot. It wasn’t always that way - her best friend Cece was a witch by apprentice, but most blood witches wouldn’t know just by looking at her.

Elora’s chest tightened at the thought of Cece, and she had to work hard to keep her smile on her face. She hadn’t wanted to go to work today, she’d wanted to stay with Cece just like she’d been doing since the day of the funeral, but Cece had insisted she go. Elora had already missed two days of work, and neither she nor Cece were swimming in extra money. Still, she felt guilty about leaving her, even if Kinsley and Maisie were with her.

The four of them had met a few years ago at a learn to salsa class, of all places, and forged a fast connection. But Elora and Cece had become exceptionally close, just like Kinsley and Maisie had done, and Elora hated leaving Cece when she was grieving. The death of Cece’s aunt Sybil had been a shock to all of them, and even now, a week after the funeral, Elora couldn’t entirely accept that she’d never see Sybil again.

She pushed the somber thoughts to the back of her mind and smiled at the young warlock. “Hi, how can I help you today?”

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