Bring Me Your Midnight(33)

I hang my coat on a hook and set my basket on the island, taking out the things I gathered from the shore and the field.

The sounds from the shop fade into the background as I put the grasses in a mortar and grind them into dust. The comfortable familiarity of the pestle in my hand eases the strain on my mind, and soon I’m replaying memories from the field and memories from the shore on a loop, over and over again.

Memories of the magic.

Memories of Wolfe.

I’m ashamed that my mind finds refuge in remembering the lines of his face and the feel of his magic, ashamed that when the house is quiet and my parents are asleep, I’m met with thoughts of him in the dark.

It doesn’t feel real, the night we had together. It feels like a dream, soft and hazy, already fading away at the edges. It’s so far removed from my daily life that I’m almost convinced it didn’t happen. And that’s good.

Dreams aren’t threatening. They can’t grab the corners of your world and pull it out from under you. They can’t change the course of your ship.

I continue to work the grasses into a fine dust, lost in the motion. “When memories fade and time makes them weak, spray this perfume for the moment you seek.”

I don’t even realize I’m speaking the spell aloud until the door flies open and my dad rushes in. I stare at him, waiting for any indication that he heard me, trying to formulate an explanation that would make sense, but he doesn’t look my way. He quickly closes the door behind him and leans his back against the wood, pushing his palms into it as if an angry mob may come barging through at any moment.

Speaking spells out loud isn’t strictly prohibited, but most of us refrain because of the power it gives them. Low magic doesn’t require it, and if my father heard me speaking a spell after nineteen years of keeping them in my head, he would have questions.

I silently reprimand myself for my carelessness, for letting my night with Wolfe seep into my days. But it seems my dad didn’t notice, and I won’t let it happen again.

“Dad?” I ask when he still hasn’t looked at me.

“Hey, Tana,” he says with a laugh. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“In a moment of bravery, I decided to come to work today. Then I saw the crowd from the street and snuck in through the back.”

Dad nods and walks over to the island. “That was an excellent choice.”

“How’s it going out there?” I ask.

Dad reaches for his mortar and grabs a bundle of herbs on the side of the island. He gets to work grinding them down as he talks.

“Your mother has it handled,” he says. “She could run the whole world. And the good thing about our neighbors is that they feel guilty coming in for gossip without paying for it, so sales have been through the roof.”

“Well, that’s a silver lining, I suppose.”

“I’ll be here all night trying to restock our staples.”

My eyes drift to the grass in my mortar and the sand beside me, to the wildflowers from the field and the kelp from the shore, and I realize for the first time what I intend to do with it all.

Make a scent for Wolfe. As a gift for helping me.

I suppose it’s normal to want to thank the person who saved my life, but I don’t want him to think I’m okay with his methods. I don’t want him believing that the new coven’s most influential daughter is indifferent to the use of dark magic, because nothing could be further from the truth.

But I want to say thank you, and I want him to know I mean it.

“Want some help restocking tonight?” I ask. Helping my dad is a better use of my time than giving gifts to Wolfe, and I know that.

Dad looks up at me. “I’d love some,” he says with a smile.

We work in silence, and it’s the first time I’ve felt truly at peace in days, my thoughts quieting and my shame fading with each grind of the pestle. Dad hums to himself, and I work the grass in time to the melody. We look up in unison when the back door opens.

Ivy walks in with three cups of tea. “I come bearing gifts.”

“A true hero,” I say.

“I’ve got Energize, Persist, and Invigorate.”

“I’ll take Persist.” Ivy hands me a cup, and steam rises in front of me.

“I’ll take Energize,” Dad says. Ivy sets the tea down on the island next to his mortar. “Thanks, Ivy. You’re a lifesaver. Tana, why don’t you take a little break? You’ll be here all night.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“I’ll take this out to Ingrid, though she hardly needs it.” He winks at me, then grabs the last cup and walks out into the main store.

“Do you have time to take a break with me, or do your parents need you back at the shop?” I ask Ivy.

“We just got through the midday rush. I’m fine for a few minutes,” she says. “Want some fresh air?”

“As long as we don’t go down Main, yes.”

She holds the back door open for me, and we walk down the path and onto a trail in the surrounding woods.

“What kind of perfume were you making back at the shop? I haven’t seen that combination before,” Ivy says, and my cheeks flush. I don’t say anything and stare intently at the dirt path in front of me.

“What?” Ivy asks.