Page 14 of Nix and Tell

“You’re not?—”

We both pause, and there’s an awkward silence. I don’t like oppressive silences; I feel the need to fill them almost compulsively. It’s the same kind of feeling I get when I now that something’s wrong, and people won’t tell me what. My autism hates it. I hate it. But this time I force myself into silence. This is her space to fill.

Walking over to the counter, I sit down, and wait for her to speak.

“What did Trisantona tell you?”

“She explained some of it.” I thought back to those moments in the abandoned church—in her temple, as she called it—and shivered. “That she’d been shut off behind the Veil for centuries, and that when she returned to her river, the mortal world had all but forgotten her.”

“She’s quite well-remembered up in the Midlands, but they have the River Trent which was named after her. On the Arun,there’s nothing but a discovery of some old coins.” A shadow passes over Hazel’s face. “She needs energy to survive.”

“So she said; and she said that some families offer tributes, and that Chlo is from one of those families.”

There’s affection in the scoff that Hazel gives. “And she didn’t mention what sets those families apart. That’s pretty typical. I’m always amused by what she does and doesn’t clock as important. Those families are nixes. We’re… fae, of a sort. Not magic enough to be dragged behind the Veil with the Gods and the Tuatha de Dannan, but magic enough that we’re… different.”

“Fae.” I wrack my brain, trying to dredge up what I know of the fae. “What kind of fae?”

She looks uncomfortable. “River demons.”

“River demons?!”

“I mean, we’re not exactly kelpies, but I wouldn’t necessarily go swimming with one of us. Didn’t Chlo tell you?”

“No, Chlo didn’t tell me that she was ariver demon.”

“To be fair to her, you came out pretty au fait with Trisantona; I think she just assumed that you’d been brought up to speed, the same way I did.”

“That seems like a fair assumption to me. And we did get somewhat distracted.” I don’t mean to blush, but considering Hazel’s answering chuckle, I clearly have.

“So that will explain why I winced walking in. The protections against Trisantona are keyed to her water magic, I assume, and so that’s going to affect all of us nixes.”

“Oh.” That doesn’t seem quite fair, and also not really a sound business decision. Preventing people from walking into my shop wouldn’t exactly be good for sales. “I guess I can tweak it.”

“Maybe have it set off an alarm, rather than prevent entry? I have a similar enchantment next door, keyed to my family and anyone with ill intentions.”

Sighing, I nod. “That sounds like a good idea.” I stare at her. “Is there anything else I’m missing?”

Hazel smiles at me, a quick secret smile that says I’m not wrong to assume that she hasn’t told me everything. “You’ve had a power boost, why don’t you have a go at working it out for yourself?”

My attitude to spellwork has always been minimalistic. I sell all the bells and whistles and the fancy cleansing tools—no white sage or palo santo, I run an ethical, non-First Nations exploitative shop, thank you very much—but my personal preference is towards subtlety.

I pop into the back office and pop the kettle on, and then head over to where potted herb plants and jars of dried herbs sit. I don’t have any fresh agrimonia, but I have dried leaves. I grab a small jar, and head back to steep it in hot water to make a tea.

Hazel’s watching, interested but not saying anything. I guess she’s wondering what I’m up to.

Pouring it out, I whisper to the water, to the leaves, and as I stir it, I ask my magic to make the effects long lasting. Agrimonia isn’t my favourite flavour, so I’d rather only have one mug of this a day.

It’s a different feeling now, casting a spell. I can feel the magic move through me, in a shower of sparkles that settle over the teacup I’ve picked out. They’re nottherethere, I know that instinctively, but there’s certainly a glimmer at the edge of my sight.

I sip, and turn and look at Hazel. Nothing yet. It takes me drinking the entire cup before I see the difference.

She’s got pointed ears. Like, properly pointed ears, pointier than Orlando Bloom’s in theLord of the Ringsfilms. And then there are scales on her skin. Not all over, just small patches of iridescence scales in gorgeous shades of blue on her arms and up her neck.

Hazel notices where my eyes fall and she smiles. “How long will the effects of the tea last?”

“For twenty-four hours, I think.”

“You’re going to get a very unique insight into the Wyrten Bridge community, aren’t you? If you don’t want the rest of the nixes to know that you can see through their illusions—and I’d suggest that you don’t—then don’t look at their scales, and I’d fix the spell on the door.”

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