Alchemy and Arson

by Lily Webb

  “Oh, most people love the Mean Green,” Sage said and Hilda hissed her quiet, but I barely absorbed the words.

  I couldn’t stop staring at the symbol on the vials. There was no mistaking it; it was the same one on the stopper I’d found by Circe’s house. But did that mean Hilda was involved directly or did it just mean that whoever lit Circe’s house on fire was a fan of Hypnotic Tonics?

  But wait a second, Mean Green? The name couldn’t have been a coincidence. As interesting as it was, I had to keep a level head because if I asked too much too soon, Hilda would shut down. Sage, however…

  “Why’s it called the Mean Green?” I asked Sage.

  “Because it’s a green color, obviously, and it sends people’s energy levels into overdr—”

  “An elevated state so that they can safely get more done in less time,” Hilda interrupted, speaking so quickly I barely understood her. She glared at Sage and deep red patches appeared on Sage’s cheeks.

  “Right, what she said,” Sage said, staring down at the floor.

  “Okay, so the green part makes sense, but I’m still not understanding why you’d call your best selling product ‘mean,’” I said.

  Hilda shuffled her feet. “Some of our products have unintended side effects,” she admitted, avoiding my gaze.

  “Yikes, like what? Fever? Dry skin? Bad breath? Stomachache? I mean, how bad are we talking here?”

  “The Mean Green can produce hallucinogenic effects in a small subset of users,” Hilda said and my eyes went wide. Having boosted energy while seeing things that weren’t there seemed like a recipe for disaster to me — especially when a Blood Moon was mixed in for good measure.

  Suddenly, the “Mean” part made perfect sense. But which kind of users was Hilda talking about?

  “When I first approached the Council with my business proposal, that was their biggest concern. Some of the Councilmembers, in particular, felt that allowing the shop to open would lead to further, well, unintended consequences among the population,” Hilda said.

  Right, like lighting one of the Councilmembers’ houses on fire while in a psychedelic fog.

  “I bet I can guess who had hangups about it,” I said.

  “It doesn’t matter who did. All that matters now is that we were allowed to open and that we’re doing everything we can to be responsible business people in the community,” Hilda said.

  How many times had she rehearsed that answer?

  “Right, obviously. That said, I’m sure you’ve heard by now about what happened to one of the members of the Council,” I said, dancing around the subject. Hilda’s shoulders rocketed up to her ears and I could practically see her rear end puckering.

  “Yes, of course. Absolutely dreadful, that whole situation,” Hilda said, her face nearly as red as Sage’s.

  “Some are saying it’s not exactly a coincidence that one of the Councilmembers died shortly after your shop opened,” I said.

  Hilda stared me in the eye, the blush on her face deepening to a rage-filled purple.

  “Ms. Clarke, I do hope you’re not suggesting that I or my products had something to do with Councilwoman Woods’ murder,” she said. “More than that, if I remember correctly, you came to write a piece about our shop, not this.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean any offense. It’s just something I’ve heard talking to people around town,” I lied as I thumbed the vial stopper in the pocket of my robes. Whether or not Hilda knew it, and whether or not she wanted to admit it, Hypnotic Tonics was linked to the murder somehow.

  “Well, you know what they say about rumors, Ms. Clarke; they do spread like wildfire, don’t they?” Hilda asked and a chill ran down my spine. Did she mean…?

  “In any case, it wasn’t Councilwoman Woods who gave us trouble, so why would we want to hurt her even if we were the type to be vindictive?” Hilda asked.

  That changed things.

  “If not Circe, who?”

  “Lorelei Riddle,” Sage spat. Hilda scowled at her like she’d uttered one of the worst words in the English language.

  “As I said, Sage is prone to exaggeration,” Hilda said. “While it’s true we were subject to more scrutiny from Councilwoman Riddle than the others, it was nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “Did she have issues with your shop or with you personally?” I asked.

  Lorelei seemed like she’d be the type to judge someone for their looks and hobbies — her daughter was the same way — and I was willing to bet Lorelei wasn’t above using her powers for less-than-honorable means. After my run-ins with the Council lately, I knew firsthand.

  “Both,” Hilda said. “She seemed to connect the two in her mind as something detrimental to the community overall.”

  Sage scoffed.

  “What she’s really saying is that Lorelei accused us of being dirty hippies who were just trying to get all of Moon Grove hooked on tonics in a get-rich-quick scheme,” Sage said, clearly not caring about Hilda’s scorn anymore.

  Yup, that sounded like something Lorelei would say.

  “It doesn’t seem that way to me. As far as I can tell, you guys are just trying to make it like the rest of us,” I said with a shrug.

  “Thank you. If only everyone else saw things that way,” Hilda sighed. “It boggles me that as unusual of a town as Moon Grove is, its citizens don’t seem to be particularly open-minded.”

  “Well, that leads me to my next question. Hypothetically, is there any way one of these tonics you’re selling could be used by someone to, say, start a fire?” I asked.

  Hilda’s expression darkened. “I couldn’t rule it out. While I’ve obviously not tested my products for unintended uses, I can say they’re all safe and non-combustible in their packaged forms. However, I suppose it’s possible for a particularly talented witch or warlock to reverse engineer the formula or extract certain contents,” Hilda said.

  Bingo. I still wasn’t convinced Hypnotic Tonics had nothing to do with what happened to Circe, but at least I had something else to look at now. I’d seen enough in my time in Moon Grove to know there was no limit to some people’s creativity — if it could be called that.

  “But I want to be clear: I would never willingly sell anything that wasn’t safe. Sage and I went through chaos to get the store open, and I don’t want to do anything that might jeopardize it. This is my life’s work, Zoe. I’m sure you understand,” Hilda said.

  Either she was telling the truth or she was a very convincing actress — I couldn’t tell which. Though I considered popping into her thoughts to verify, I thought better of it. If she was talented enough of a witch to brew all these tonics, Lilith only knew what else she was capable of doing.

  Besides, if she was lying, it would come out in the stir eventually. The proof might literally be in the potion.

  “Understood. One last question,” I started. Hilda raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Yes?”

  “I noticed that all the tonics in your case have the same symbol etched into their stoppers. What is it?” I asked. Hilda smiled.

  “It’s an ancient alchemical symbol,” she said. “The All-Seeing Eye. It’s meant to symbolize how alchemy, potions, and tonics can help us open our Third Eye to things outside our realm we couldn’t normally see.”

  Or, you know, crazed hallucinations. Same difference.

  “How inspiring,” I said, and Hilda’s smile widened. “Well, thank you both very much for your time. I’ll be in touch if I have any follow up questions for the article,” I said, unsure of how true that was.

  “Of course. I can’t wait to see what you come up with, Zoe. I’ve heard you have a magical way with words,” Hilda said.

  I also had a magical way of finding the truth, so she’d better be careful what she wished for with me.

  “I hope it’s good after all this,” Sage mumbled, and Hilda narrowed her eyes at her.

  “Oh, it will be, don’t you worry about that,” I said and showed myself out of the shop.

>   Chapter Seven

  After transcribing my thoughts on my chat with Hilda and Sage, I decided to call it a day and pay a visit to Raina and Grandma Elle. I hadn’t seen either of them since my mock trial with the Council and if I knew grandma half as well as I thought it did, she was probably be coming unglued worrying about me.

  I didn’t bother heading home first. Instead, I continued north on Crescent Street past Swiftsage and Flora’s house to Moonbeam Lane — and froze at the intersection, unable to go any further.

  Images of the raging green fire flashed in my mind and as much as I tried not to, my eyes locked on the end of the street where Circe’s house used to stand. How could I face Raina after this and the way she’d come to my rescue during my grilling by the Council?

  I would just have to try. There wasn’t any other way around it.

  With a sigh, I gathered myself and continued down Moonbeam to number three. As I passed the other small brick homes that lined the street, it occurred to me I’d become an entirely different person since I’d last been to Raina’s house. Hardly any time at all had passed, but so much had happened in that short few weeks.

  Raina’s small brick cottage was as unassuming yet inviting as ever. Now that I thought about it, it seemed perfect as a house for someone like my grandmother, which gave me hope Elle was comfortable inside. I didn’t quite understand why the Council wanted Grandma to stay in Moon Grove after the fit they threw about me bringing her there in the first place, but I wasn’t complaining.

  I knocked gently on the door, careful not to surprise either of them. At first, no one answered, but a few seconds later I heard stirring from inside. Raina opened the door and gave me a smile, though it wasn’t a particularly warm one.

  “I was wondering when we might see you,” she said.

  “Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t ask ahead of time. I just got off work and, well, I needed to decompress,” I said.

  “No need to explain, dear,” she said and stepped aside. I maneuvered around her and found Grandma Elle sitting in the largest of three rocking chairs by the fireplace in the cozy living room. Tierney, Raina’s cranky and fluffy tabby cat, sat purring in Grandma’s lap — something I didn’t know the cat was capable of doing.

  I didn’t know which was more shocking: the fact that Grandma let a cat get anywhere near her or the fact that Tierney seemed to like her.

  “No way,” I said, staring at the two of them with my eyes wide open to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

  “I couldn’t believe it either,” Raina laughed as she closed the door and joined us in the living room. “As you found out your first time here, Tierney has trouble with new people, so there must be something special about your grandmother. I’ve never seen Tierney take to someone so quickly.”

  “Please. Ain’t nothing special about this old crone,” Grandma said and I laughed. Seeing her there with Tierney in her lap was surreal, a physical manifestation of my two very different worlds colliding. But as unbelievable as it was, somehow Grandma fit in perfectly — and I didn’t ever want her to leave.

  “None of us believes that for a second,” I said, cautiously sitting in one of the smaller rocking chairs next to Grandma to avoid scaring Tierney, but the cat seemed oblivious as Grandma continued to scratch the top of his head.

  “That’s true. You raised Zoe, so you must have a Herculean amount of patience,” Raina said and Grandma cackled.

  “Oh, you ain’t got no idea,” Grandma said.

  “Well, it seems like the two of you are getting along without a hitch,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “Arguably, she’s doing a better job of adjusting than you did, Zoe,” Raina said.

  “That doesn’t surprise me. She’s always had more grit and resilience than I have,” I said.

  “A lifetime of breakin’ your back plantin’ seeds in cow dung will do that fer a girl,” Grandma said. “I swear, Raina, I always tried to get Zoe to spend more time on the farm for that reason, but she wasn’t havin’ it. The lil’ devil couldn’t stand the feelin’ of dirt under her nails.”

  “That was probably good for both of us, in retrospect. I’ve killed pretty much every plant I’ve touched,” I said and Grandma smiled at me.

  “Yeah, I reckon you’re right. Anyway, how you been, Sugar? You holdin’ it together?”

  “As well as can be expected, I guess,” I said with a shrug.

  “Why don’t I make us some tea and we can talk everything over?” Raina suggested and I nodded.

  “So long as you ain’t gonna catch on fire too, sounds good to me,” Grandma said. “I swear, I got me a bad case of PTSD or whatever it’s called after this whole thing.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve cast every protective spell I can think of over this home. It’s fireproof,” Raina said from the kitchen as she rustled in the cupboards for her ingredients — an interesting choice considering she normally used magic to make tea. Maybe she figured Grandma had seen enough magic lately.

  “That’s good to hear,” I said, and I meant it. As much as I tried to keep it out of my mind, every now and then the fear of something happening to Grandma crept into the corners of my consciousness like an unwelcome spider.

  The conversation died as Raina occupied herself with the tea, and had it not been for the sound of Tierney’s motor-like purring, silence would’ve swallowed us.

  “Zoe, dear, I’m sorry about your wand revoking and suspension from Veilside,” Raina said as she came back into the living room with three steaming mugs magically floating in front of her. Without thinking, I took two out of the air and handed one to Grandma.

  “Floatin’ mugs, fer Chrissakes. I ain’t ever gonna get used to this place,” Grandma sighed. “I don’t suppose y’all have a church around here anywhere do you?”

  “No, I’m sorry to say we don’t. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the residents here have no need for something like that,” Raina said as she eased down into the third rocking chair beside Grandma

  “Can’t blame a girl for askin’,” Grandma said.

  “It’s okay, Raina, I didn’t take it personally,” I said, ignoring Grandma and her kooky commentary. “Honestly, the punishment could’ve been much worse — and probably should’ve been.”

  “You’re lucky, that’s for certain,” Raina said and sipped her tea. I followed suit, letting the warmth and spice flow through me. I wasn’t sure what kind of tea it was, but it was delicious.

  “It’s an herbal tea. No caffeine and no magical properties,” Raina said as if she’d read my mind. Grandma stopped just short of tipping back her mug.

  “So just to be sure, this ain’t gonna make me grow hair where the sun don’t shine, right?” Grandma asked and Raina smiled, amused.

  “No, no worries about that. It’s the same sort of tea you might drink back home,” Raina said.

  “Good. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with keepin’ things traditional,” Grandma said and took a healthy swig. “Somethin’ tells me y’all need some more tradition around here.”

  “We have numerous traditions of our own here in Moon Grove, Mrs. Clark. As a matter of fact, you may get to see them first hand soon,” Raina said and turned to me. “Which reminds me, Zoe, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but we’ve arranged funeral services for Circe on Sunday morning,” Raina continued and I froze.

  “That’s, uh, good to hear, but I don’t know if it’s appropriate for me to attend,” I said, my cheeks flaring. More than that, I wasn’t sure I could handle it. Everyone would no doubt stare and whisper about me — not that that was uncommon for me these days — but it still made me want to crawl out of my skin.

  “I understand, but I wanted to extend the invitation anyway. If you change your mind, of course, you’re welcome to join us,” Raina said.

  “Us?”

  “Don’t be dense, Sugar. I’m gonna be there too,” Grandma said.

  “Oh, okay. Good for you,” I said, unsure of what else to say. Somehow, I didn’t see that playing well in the ey
es of the Council and everyone else who seemingly was convinced my grandmother and I had something to do with the death of Circe, but what did I know?

  “You all right? Rough day at the office?” Grandma asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, just got a lot on my mind,” I said and Grandma narrowed her eyes at me.

  “It’s a darn good thing you’re in the business of getting other people to tell the truth because you couldn’t lie to save your life,” Grandma said and Raina smirked at me. She wasn’t wrong.

  “Go on then, spit it out. It’s rarer than Moonshine for the cat to get hold of your tongue and keep it,” Grandma said.

  “It’s about Circe,” I started, watching Raina’s face for a reaction. The smile vanished, but she nodded to tell me to continue.

  “I haven’t told anyone this yet, or at least not anyone important, but I found something at Circe’s house the night she died,” I said. Both Grandma and Raina eyed me.

  “You ain’t gotta be so cagey,” Grandma said.

  “She’s right,” Raina said, the beginnings of a smile returning to her face.

  “Well, it’s probably easier for me just to show it to you,” I said and reached into the pocket of my robes for the vial stopper. I held it out in my palm and rolled it so the symbol of the open eye pointed upward.

  “What in tarnation is that?” Grandma asked, squinting.

  “The All-Seeing Eye,” Raina said, recognizing the symbol immediately. Well, that certainly made Hilda seem far less suspicious. Maybe she really was telling the truth about the symbol.

  “Yeah, that’s what the owner of Hypnotic Tonics told me too,” I said.

  “That sounds to me like you don’t believe it,” Raina said.

  “I’m not sure, honestly,” I said. “It just seems odd to me that I’d find this little guy near a crime scene. I don’t think it’s a stretch to wonder if it was some sort of potion or tonic that caused the fire.”

  “I see,” Raina said as she swirled the tea in her mug.

  “What’re you tryin’ to say, Sugar? You think somebody did this on purpose?” Grandma asked.