by Zoe Arden
"Hello," one the figures said, coming toward me. The lone sliver of light fell on her face, and I recognized the older pancake lady. She was coming straight at me. Her sister was beside her, holding something in her hand.
Suddenly, I wanted nothing to do with these strange women. The idea that they were following me no longer seemed exciting. It just seemed creepy.
"Ava, it's us," the younger one said.
How did they know my name? My heart raced. I turned and ran... straight into a brick wall. I'd gotten so freaked out I'd run right past the back door and didn't see the end of the alley in front of me. I bounced off the brick and fell back onto the pavement, my face already hurting.
"Ava," the women cried together, running toward me.
I held up my hands in self-defense, expecting them to grab me or try to rob me. Something. But all I felt was a soothing hand reach out and stroke my hair. Hair that was the same color as theirs.
"Calmnetico... calmnetico..." I opened my eyes and saw the older pumpkin lady looking at me with soft, worried eyes. Her finger extended toward my forehead and a soft orange glow was emanating from it. "Ava," she said again. I felt my nerves soothing, despite the strangeness of the situation.
The younger woman squealed, clapping her hands together and doing some kind of jig. She looked like a drunken Irishman.
"Who are you?" I asked. The strange orange glow grew duller than faded away. "What are you?"
The women smiled. The older one spoke first.
"We're your aunts, Ava. And we're witches. Just like you."
* * *
CHAPTER
THREE
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* * *
"How soon can we leave?"
* * *
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"Ava, calm down!" Trixie shouted as I threw another piece of trash at her. She turned to her sister. "She's as scrappy as her mother."
Eleanor nodded. My garbage-wielding fastballs seemed to be having no effect on either of the women.
"You are not my aunts," I said again. "And you are definitely not witches."
Eleanor took a step toward me. "Trixie and I were with your mother when you were born," she said calmly.
I picked up a decaying tomato that had spilled out of a bag. It squished in my hand. I threw it smack into Eleanor's face where it splattered everywhere. Trixie laughed. If I hadn't been so freaked out, I might have laughed with her.
Eleanor wiped the tomato out of her eyes and sighed. She held her hand in front of her face and made a circling motion in the air like she was waxing an invisible car.
"Lenacium motamato," Eleanor said.
The tendrils of tomato affixed to Eleanor's eyelashes began to disappear. The juice dripping down her cheeks faded away. It was like an invisible washcloth had come out of the air to clean Eleanor's face.
"Oh wow," I mumbled. I put down the rotting apple I'd been preparing to chuck at Trixie and took a deep breath.
"You... you really are witches?" I asked.
The alley, which had been filled with darkness moments before, seemed packed with light now. There was no source for it, it was coming from all around us.
Eleanor and Trixie stepped carefully forward. This time, I didn't threaten them with rotting fruit or veggies. Eleanor's hair was almost as light as my own. Trixie's shade was even closer. I'd never seen anyone else with hair like mine. Even with the ready availability of hair dye, it seemed impossible to achieve the bright blond locks I'd been born with.
Trixie held something out to me. The fear I'd felt was quickly fading, replaced with curiosity.
I reached out and took what Trixie offered. It was a photograph. I stared down at it in awe. My mother's face smiled back at me. She was beaming beside my father, who looked happier than I'd ever seen him. On either side of my parents stood Trixie and Eleanor, both of them smiling widely. In the middle of the picture, my mother cradled me in her arms. I looked about two days old.
"That picture was taken right after your birth," Eleanor said.
"You were born bald, you know," Trixie interjected. "Thank the roses your hair grew in. The last time we saw you, your hair seemed to be growing at a good rate, but you never know. Your grandfather lost his hair at twenty! I was afraid you might look like a cue ball."
Eleanor threw Trixie an annoyed look.
"What?" Trixie asked. "She needs to know about these things! It's not her fault she looked like a bowling ball when she was born. All babies look a little weird."
I couldn't help laughing. The bickering between them was nonstop, but I could tell it was suffused with love.
"So, Ava Fortune," Eleanor said, placing her hands on her hips and ignoring her sister. "Or, I suppose I should say Stone. When did your father change that, I wonder? Either way, you're twenty-one now and part of the Rose family. The choice is yours."
"I always thought Fortune was a good wizarding name," Trixie interrupted. "But I suppose Stone is less obvious. Easier to hide."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, biting my lip. "Rose family? Fortune?" My head was spinning. There was too much information coming at me all at once.
"Ava Rose Fortune," Eleanor said, tilting her head to one side. "It's the name you were born with. It's a witch tradition to use a mother's maiden name as her child's middle name."
"I don't have a middle name. And I thought my mother's maiden name was Albert, anyway."
Trixie and Eleanor gasped. "Never in the whole witching world!" Eleanor said, throwing her hands into the air.
"Albert?" Trixie pouted. "That's not even pretty. What kind of witch would be born with a name like Albert?"
Eleanor held up a hand, silencing her sister. "This is all the more reason for you to come with us now. You have no idea who you are."
"What are you talking about?" I asked. "Go with you where?"
"Back to Heavenly Haven. The island you were born on," Eleanor said as if it were obvious.
"I was born on an island?"
"Of course. That's your real home. Not this... city." Eleanor said 'city' like it was a dirty word. "Come with us, Ava."
The back door to the alley suddenly swung open. Lance poked his head out.
"Ava?" he called.
The light that had been emanating around me went out in a flash.
"There you are," Lance said, walking toward me. "We were wondering where you got off to."
I looked around the alley, my eyes attempting to adjust to the darkness I was now encased in. My aunts were nowhere in sight.
"The door locked behind me when I took out the trash," I told him.
Lance glanced nervously back at the door he'd just come through. He pulled on the knob and the door opened easily. "It's not locked now," he said, sighing with relief. "Come on. It's almost midnight. Let's get out of here."
I followed Lance back into the diner, wondering if Trixie and Eleanor had anything to do with my getting locked in the alley. I hung up my apron, double checking the pockets for tip money. Inside one of them was a card.
THE MYSTIC CUPCAKE
121 BELL AVE.
SWEETLAND COVE, HEAVENLY HAVEN
I flipped the card over and found a message written in long loopy letters.
If you decide to come back with us—and we hope you do—we're at the Cumberbun Hotel. 555-6510
— Aunt E.
I drove home, so lost in thought I almost drove right through a red light. My dad was still up when I came in, even though he had to get up just as early as I did for the morning shift.
"I was just getting ready to send out the diner police." He smiled, making a bad joke.
I tried to return the smile but failed. I had too many questions burning in my brain and no idea how to ask them. What did I really know about my mother, anyway? My father had one picture of her. And I'd spent the last twenty-one years thinking her last name was Albert.
Heck, what did I really know about myself? Until tonight, I didn't even
know I had a middle name.
"Ava Rose," I murmured. It felt strange on my lips.
"What's that?" my dad asked, looking up from the bag of cookies he'd been snacking on.
"Nothing."
I went into the kitchen and warmed the dinner plate he'd left out for me. He took the seat at the table across from me. I picked at my spaghetti.
"What's up?" my dad asked. "Not hungry?"
I pushed my plate away, suddenly angry at my father. Had he really been lying to me all my life?
"Who are Eleanor and Trixie Rose?" I asked.
My father's jaw hit the table.
"Are they my aunts?"
"How... what makes you..." My father's voice cracked and trailed off. Clearly, this was the last thing he’d expected me to ask.
"I met them," I told him. "They seem nice."
He reached across the table and took hold of my water glass. His hands were shaking. He swallowed the water and smacked his lips together.
"They are nice," he finally replied. "And yes, they're your aunts."
Somehow, hearing it from him made it all more real. I felt anger swelling in me. "So what they told me is true? Are they..." I gulped. "They're witches?"
"Ava—"
"Does that mean Mom was a witch? That I'm a witch?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes. But that doesn't mean—"
"What do you mean in a 'manner of speaking?' How could you not tell me this? How could you keep a secret like this from me?" I rose from the table, too angry to even look at him.
"Ava, I have my reasons," he said, rising with me.
I stared at him, unbelieving.
"You have your reasons? That's it? Really? That's the best you've got?"
His lips thinned to a grimace. "Ava, I am your father, and you have to trust me when I tell you that everything I've done has been for your benefit."
"My benefit?" I yelled. "Dad, how can you say that? I don't even know who I am!" I turned away from him and crossed my arms over my chest. "They asked me to go back with them. Aunt Eleanor and Trixie. To Heavenly Haven."
My father's face tightened. "Absolutely not!" he yelled. "I forbid it."
"You forbid it?" I yelled, turning back to face him. "Dad, I'm twenty-one. I'm an adult. There's a whole other life out there I've never known."
"You are not going to Heavenly Haven," he screamed.
"Oh yeah?" I screamed back at him. "Watch me!"
I slammed the door behind me when I left. I pulled my phone from my purse as I ran toward my car, too angry to even cry.
Eleanor answered on the first ring.
"It's Ava. How soon can we leave?"
* * *
CHAPTER
FOUR
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* * *
I was home. …
* * *
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I looked out at the water as the ferry sailed toward a bright green island a few miles ahead. The plane ride to Florida had been fast. Everything had been fast. The ride to the airport. The way I'd quit my job at Stuffed. I'd snuck back into the apartment when my dad was at work and packed a small handful of items.
Is this all a huge mistake?
I'd been asking myself that question for the last hour. I was on a boat with two women I barely knew, on my way to a home I had never known. Still... every time I wondered what I'd gotten myself into, the thought of adventure was enough to calm me. I'd had so little adventure in my life I didn't want to second-guess my decision to leave New York.
"We'll be there soon," Eleanor said, taking a spot beside me at the railing. Her long skirt billowed in the strong ocean breeze.
Trixie hovered behind her, fiddling with thick purple shoelaces that ran up her even purpler stockings. She tried to stretch one of the laces up over her knee in a criss-cross pattern and the lace slipped through her fingers, falling to the ground.
"For rose's sake!" Trixie muttered, starting over.
"There are a few things you need to know before we arrive," Eleanor continued.
"More things?" I squealed, grasping hold of the railing.
They'd already told me so much on the plane that my head was still aching. Humans and witches had lived together for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. Only a handful of humans knew witches were real, though. Heavenly Haven was a small island off the coast of Florida that had managed to evade every hurricane that ever went by it. It also maintained a year-round spring climate, courtesy of the Witch's Council, which sounded more or less like the city councils I had grown up with in New York. Except, of course, they were witches.
"I'm not sure my brain can process anything else right now," I told Eleanor.
She gave me a sympathetic look. Trixie came up behind me and thumped the back of my head with her thumb.
"Sounds like there's still some room in there to me," Trixie said, smiling. Eleanor rolled her eyes. I was wearing the witch's hat necklace my father had given me. My fingers brushed against the silver pendant and a wave of comfort washed over me.
"Your mother always loved that necklace," Eleanor said. "I'm glad Eli kept it."
I sighed and looked back out at the water. The island was so close now. I could see buildings tucked in amongst the lush green tree tops.
"Come with us a moment," Eleanor said.
She locked elbows with my left arm. Trixie locked elbows with my right. They spun me around before I could say anything and led me back into the ferry's interior. We took a seat on a bench in the corner. Most people were outside watching the water and basking in the sun, so the inside was empty. I suspected that was exactly what Trixie and Eleanor wanted.
Eleanor pulled a box about twelve inches long and three inches wide from a pocket in her dark blue skirt. It was wrapped in bright magenta paper with a white ribbon. I had no idea how she'd managed to stuff a box like that inside her skirt but didn't ask. Since meeting my aunts, I was learning to expect the unexpected.
Trixie's feet began dancing on the floor as we sat there. She was clearly excited about whatever was inside that box. Eleanor handed it to me and I began tearing the paper open.
"Tttzzt!" Eleanor hissed. Her lips tightened and her hand shot out, stopping me. "Always make sure there are no humans around when you are practicing magic."
"Magic?" I asked, looking down. What kind of magic could fit inside a box?
Eleanor scanned the room. There was no one in sight. "Okay, go ahead," she said.
I ripped the paper open. Inside the wooden box was a long, thin stick. "Um... thanks," I said, not wanting to sound rude. Maybe in the witching world sticks were a collector's item, like figurines or china patterns.
"Guard it with your life," Eleanor said seriously.
I looked down at the stick again. It looked like something that had fallen off a sick tree branch.
"Er, I will."
Trixie's face turned pink. "I don't think she knows what it is," she whispered to Eleanor.
"Of course she does," Eleanor said. "She's Lorabelle's daughter, for witch's sake!" But when she looked back at my blank expression, she sighed and shook her head.
"Your father's really taught you nothing. Pick it up."
I reached out and grasped the stick. The second my fingers touched it, I felt something jump and pull at me. It was like a kitten nipping playfully at my fingertips. I looked up at Eleanor, my mouth open. Her face lit up.
I held the stick tightly in my hand. It felt like it was part of my arm. Like it belonged there.
"That's your wand to keep," Eleanor said. "A gift from us to you."
"A wand?" I murmured in awe of the energy I could feel swelling from within it. The hairs on my arm were standing on end.
"Yes. There's nothing wrong with using a wand. When you've had some time to practice, you won't need it," Eleanor said quickly. "Only children and dim-witches need wands. But we thought under the circumstances—"
"Since you’re so new to this," Trixie interrupted.
Her face had grown into deep shades of red and violet.
"—that it would be helpful for you to have. It's not that we don't think you can handle yourself without one. Every witch and wizard starts out with a wand, you understand."
"What's a dim-witch?" I asked.
Trixie's face turned purple.
"Er, a witch who has never reached her full potential. Even with a wand, they still have trouble casting spells." Eleanor looked down at the floor.
I suddenly realized that they were embarrassed. My aunts seemed to think that giving me a wand was some sort of insult. A reflection on my lack of ability to perform magic.
"I love it," I told them. "Thank you."
Trixie's face began to change back to her normal color, and Eleanor expelled the breath she'd been holding.
"You can use it tomorrow when we take you to the bakery," Trixie said, smiling again.
"Bakery?"
Trixie and Eleanor exchanged a look.
"Didn't you tell her?" Trixie asked.
"No! I thought you did," Eleanor replied.
"Tell me what?" I asked.
"The Mystic Cupcake," Eleanor said. I remembered the card she'd left in my apron's pocket. "It's our bakery. Trixie's, mine, and... your mother's. We all opened it together years ago. Now that you're here, we thought..." Her voice trailed off. She bit her lower lip. I realized I was doing the same thing.
"Of course you don't have to work with us at the bakery if you don't want to," Trixie chimed in.
"My mother owned a bakery?"
"She was an expert at mood extracts," Trixie replied. "I'm a frosting expert. Eleanor is a cake expert, or at least she claims to be." Eleanor pinched Trixie's arm.
"What's a mood extract?" I asked.