Page 197 of Magical Mission
“They really commit here,” I said lightly, smiling. It took everything in me not to explain that it wasn’t cosplay, not a themed weekend, not an immersive retreat. These weren’t actors. They were witches. Mages. Fae. But Celeste wasn’t ready for that truth. Not yet.
Skye paused outside a bakery window and peered in. “I remember coming here with you in the fall,” she said, her voice filled with wonder. “It was cute then, but this? This is like someone turned the volume up on fantasy.”
She turned toward me, eyes scanning the bustling crowd. “It’sbusiernow, though. I thought everyone left after the season ended.”
I shrugged, forcing an easy smile. “Word’s gotten out. Hidden gems don’t stay hidden forever.”
We rounded the bend onto Moonspindle Lane, where shops curved together like friends leaning in for a secret. The floral vines on the buildings were starting to bud with the first flush of green, and the scent of blooming lemon balm wafted from the planters hanging under the windows. We crossed the street and hit Main Street, where we reached the tea shop.
Stella’s place.
It sat right on the corner, as if it had grown there, the deep green door carved with swirling vine work, and the windows fogged with warmth from within. A wooden sign hung slightly crooked, painted in gold,Infusions, Brews & Slightly Illegal Spells
Celeste paused, her eyes wide. “This place is perfect. No wonder you work here.”
I pushed open the door and was immediately greeted by the scent of cardamom and black tea and something vaguely citrusy, one of Stella’s new blends, probably. The clink of cups and quiet chatter wrapped around us like a familiar shawl.
But it wasn’t Stella behind the counter.
A woman my age stood there instead, flushed with purpose and proudly wearing one of Stella’s embroidered aprons. Her auburn curls bounced as she moved between customers, pouring with confidence, answering questions with the kind of cheerful authority that only comes from a few weeks of apprenticeship and a healthy fear of disappointing Stella. I noticed her curls hung just right over her ears, hiding the fact that she was fae.
“Oh,” I said with a grin. “Looks like someone’s on shift.”
The student noticed me and waved brightly. “Headmistress Maeve!”
Skye turned sharply. “Headmistress?”
I coughed. “Long story.”
Celeste raised a brow. “Isthiswhere you’ve been working?”
I nodded. “Off and on. Stella needed help when things got busy, and… I needed the quiet.”
“What kind of tea would you like?” I asked.
Celeste scanned the menu and her eyes skidded to a stop. “I’ll take the Calmora tea.”
“What?”
“Calmora? Isn’t that how you pronounce it?”
“We’re out of it.”
She crinkled her brows. “You sure?”
“Positive. Maybe it will be in stock next time,” I added.
“Try the Abracadabra tea,” Skye offered. “That’s what I had, and I loved it. I’ll take it again.”
“Oh, okay.” Celeste looked disappointed, and I hated to lie…
But Calmora? That’s what got me here in the first place. And I remember Stella telling me nobody ever chooses it unless…
I shoved the thoughts away and went up to order the tea. I couldn’t wait to tell Stella what just happened. Celeste and Calmora? It was like history repeating itself, only she was twenty years younger.
They didn’t ask for details, which was both a blessing and a warning that more questions were still to come.
We found an empty table near the window, right beside a wall of mismatched teacups hanging on antique hooks. The cozy hum of the room settled into my bones like a calming spell, and I realized howbadlyI’d needed to sit in this very chair, with these two women, in this safe little bubble.
