Chapter 19

T rixie

"I think this is great." Emmy stood at the kitchen counter.

I was supposed to meet Belinda shortly, and I was procrastinating by caffeinating with Emmy.

"It's really awesome that you're opening up to the possibility of releasing some of your magic." Emmy bit into a bagel. "You're not going to regret it."

"Yeah." I sprinkled some leftover coffee grounds onto the dirt in one of my terracotta pots. "If you say so."

"It was very kind of Dom to set this up." Emmy gave me a cheeky glance. "You two official yet?"

"No. I mean, maybe?" I said, then I reconsidered. "No, definitely not official or else we would have made it official."

"So what is between you?"

"Something," I admitted.

"Something that scares you?"

I shrugged. "A little. I realize I have issues, but—"

Emmy interrupted by pulling me in for a hug. "Oh, sweetie. Everyone who was supposed to love you when you were little betrayed you. It's no wonder that you're afraid of getting close to someone. Just don't ruin a good thing for no reason, okay? Promise me. He really cares about you."

"I'm trying."

"Don't let your past stop you from being happy in the future. Dom shouldn't be punished for your mother's mistakes. "

"How do I know he's the right person?"

"You don't really know until you try." Emmy's eyes sparkled with tears. "You have to take a risk, just like the rest of us. Nobody falls in love safely. It's never a sure thing."

"Do you think he's worth it?"

"That decision is only up to you." Emmy cupped my cheeks in her hands. "But as your best friend, if I didn't think he was worthy of at least a shot, I would've already hexed his eyebrows to fall off."

"So that's a yes?"

Emmy laughed. "See where it goes. If it doesn't work out, then at least y'all tried. And if it does..."

"If it does?"

"Then you'll be happy you tried."

"Maybe." I sighed. "Well, I've got to get going so I'm not late to see Belinda."

"Then you're going to Dom's?" Emmy said flippantly. "Staying out til all hours of the night on a relationship that's definitely not official?"

"We're watching the debates together," I told her. "You can join us. Sometimes we make a drinking game out of it."

I shrugged on a light sweater and made my way to the car. I had a potions master to meet today, and wonderous gardens to explore.

My pulse raced as I gave my name to the front desk at Le Jardín and was buzzed right through. I was led through the entrance to the elite botanical garden that was tucked away smack dab in the middle of The Hollow. I'd dreamed of getting a visitor's pass for a day, but it had always seemed so far out of reach. One snap of Dom's fingers, and suddenly I was being escorted around like I was royalty.

The gardeners here were the crème de la crème, trained at a special school where they learned to care for the most delicate of plants. The poisons that could kill with a drop of essence. The flowers that bloomed once a century. The endangered species that were close to blinking out of existence forever. It was, I assumed, the most wonderful place on earth.

"Hi, doll. Oh, you are cute." The woman who must be Belinda Brite blinked long lashes tipped with little gems at me. Her hair was Barbie pink. "No wonder that vampire is head over heels for you. Plus, your aura is just so unique. I've never seen anything like it before."

"My aura?"

I was a little overwhelmed on several levels. Belinda was a lot . A lot of pink, a lot of pixie, a lot of glitter. A lot of lilac scented perfume. Yet underneath the glitz, there was a raw power within Belinda that had me shuddering. This was not a woman I wanted to cross.

"You can read auras too, baby doll," Belinda said. "I can see it in you. You're just so magically constipated that you've un-learned how to do it properly. You'll remember from childhood instances where you could read auras, no matter how much you might have tried to block it out, because it's such an innate part of who you are."

Belinda walked ahead of me, and I scrambled to catch up. As I moved, my head was on a swivel as I took in Le Jardín. Blossoms in colors I'd never seen before. Herbs I couldn't name sprouted from weathered terracotta pots. Ancient garden benches scattered through the neatly spaced rows, not one piece of grass out of place.

A steady stream of gardeners dressed in white robes moved quietly, reverently, through the rows of Le Jardín, keeping a watchful eye on every plant, every flower, every little root. Every step of the guests. I had to imagine security here was next level tight.

I couldn't even imagine what it would be like to get a job here. A long time ago, I'd dreamed of working at Le Jardín, but I'd quickly let the thought pass because a career as a caretaker of delicate magical plants required magic—a lot of it. Which ruled me out.

"Do you remember reading auras as a child?" Belinda plopped herself with a flourish under an awning of climbing pink roses that smelled like champagne. "I'm sure it's there, I can see it on you as clear as day."

I felt dizzy, almost intoxicated, as I sat on the bench across from Belinda. I leaned away from a vining plant that acted as if it wanted to wrap me in a boa constrictor's hug.

"Don't do that," Belinda chided the plant, sending a jolt of magic at the reaching vine. To me, she explained, "The Snake's Kiss just isn't used to you."

"Snake's Kiss?" I asked.

"It'll squeeze the stuffings right out of you," Belinda said nonchalantly. "Then it'll finish you off by fastening its little pricks into your skin and injecting you with a deadly poison. Very painful way to die. Found naturally only in a remote part of Turks and Caicos."

"Oh. Um. Okay." I shifted further away from the plant .

"Don't worry, he'll come around. Ever consider working for Le Jardín?" Belinda asked, as if she'd read my mind. "You've got a lot of earth magic in you, too."

"Are you part psychic?"

"No, I can read auras," Belinda chided. "And I know you can too, which is what we're going to work on today. Think hard, Trixie Gardens."

I didn't have to think hard. I remembered. I'd been remembering more and more, ever since I'd talked about it with Dom.

"I never knew that was what it was called," I said softly. "When I was young, my mom figured it out. She, well, she used it against me."

Belinda nodded. "You've got a complicated relationship with your mother. God rest her soul."

"How do you know so much about me?" I asked annoyed.

"Auras can tell you a lot about a person," Belinda said matter of factly. "If you don't want me to tell you about Trixie Gardens, then you tell me about Trixie Gardens."

I heaved a sigh. "My mom would make me read the auras of people in coffee shops. I could tell who was rich, who was nervous, who was magical—the list goes on. I'd tell her, and then later, I learned that she would use that information against them."

"I see."

"I closed myself off to reading auras when I realized my mother was using the information to hurt people. I just blocked it out, and it was like I completely forgot how to do it. "

"I imagine your magical constipation upset your mother?"

I picked at a nonexistent spot on the bench. "It made her terribly angry."

"Well, I'm sorry, but that was your mother's problem, not yours," Belinda said gently. "I'd like to move forward. I have a trip to Egypt that I need to get back to. According to Dominic Kent, I'm the laxative you need to get your magic flowing, so let's begin with our lesson. Enough about your mother. Let's focus on you."

"Um. Okay."

"Tell me about my heritage."

I took a deep breath, feeling like I was on the verge of giving up on this stupid meeting, when I caught a whiff of it. A tinge. A little color flickering about Belinda's person, and it ignited something in me that I hadn't felt in years.

A rush of magic, but not the same rush from the night I'd pinned Briggs to the wall. This wasn't a fearful response, a knee-jerk reaction to a situation in which I felt threatened. This sort of magic felt hopeful and easy, a natural sort of vibration that radiated through me and brought energy to my spirit instead of draining it.

I blinked and studied Belinda. "You really are psychic. I can see it on you. That violet hue. I'm not just saying it this time, I can feel your psychic heritage."

"Go on," Belinda encouraged. "What else do you see? I'm a complicated woman."

"Well, there's obviously pixie and elf and a bit of witch in your past, along with a dusting of fairy. Not to mention that little sprinkle of something that looks like human? Don't worry, that secret is safe with me."

Belinda blinked those long eyelashes at me. "Damn, girl."

"What?" I said uneasily. "Did I do it right?"

"You figured out my great-great-grandma had an affair with a human, and that aura still sticks with me. Never could get rid of the mortal stink. Nobody's ever noticed before you, either."

"It's not, like, a talent or anything," I hedged. "It's just natural."

"I don't think you understand the word talent." Belinda studied me. "That's practically the definition of talent. Something that comes innately to you. Something you're good at. You can hone talents, improve upon them, refine them. It doesn't change the fact that you've been born with a heap of it."

"I'm aware," I grumbled. "It hasn't served me well."

"No. Your magic has served you just fine. It's the people in your life that have let you down."

It wasn't the first time someone had told me something to that effect. It wasn't even the first time I'd thought it. I knew that magic wasn't inherently good or evil, but really letting that sink in had been more difficult than I'd been willing to admit.

If I admitted to myself that magic wasn't the problem, then I really, truly, had to face the reality that my mother had been the problem. All these years later, and it was still hard for me to put her in that box. She didn't fit in a box—she was complicated. She wasn't all bad, nor was she all good. And somehow, I still loved her through everything .

"Just think of all the good you could do in this world with your magic," Belinda continued. "It's not too late to let it back into your life. Reading auras doesn't mean you have to use that information to hurt others. There are healers who specifically ease pain and suffering by working with people on their auras."

"I always thought that practice was a load of crap."

"Most of them are," Belinda agreed. "However, the really good ones aren't. You don't hear about those folks because they're rare."

"I don't know."

"That's just one example. Look at the gardeners here at Le Jardín. They use their magic to keep ancient plants alive that have great impacts across the world. They're used in potions to heal people, for example. You could have a part in that. Literally saving lives."

"I concede your point."

"I understand your magic is a pain point right now. So let it come slowly. Let it happen naturally, and you're less likely to get spooked." Belinda frowned. "I can see the scars on you from a large magical release a few weeks ago."

"I didn't try to use magic. It just happened."

"It was your body's way of responding to what it perceived was a deadly threat. That's not magic. It's fear."

"How do I start slowly, then?"

"Observe." Belinda gestured to the garden. "You have a knack for seeing auras. Absorb them, watch people. Don't do anything. Even the act of tapping into auras and studying magic will trigger your powers to start flowing again. Over time, it will become second nature again. "

"After that?"

"When you're comfortable, you may try some of these." Belinda snapped her fingers and a book appeared in midair, hovering before me. "It's Le Jardín's magic book for beginner gardeners."

I reached for the book, MAGICAL GARDENS , and tucked it under my arm.

"There are little spells in it to help perk up droopy plants, infuse fertilizers into soil, prevent aphids from setting up shop, things like that. If you feel inclined, you can start tapping into your magic with these spells in a more deliberate way. All these spells are built to be harmless if gone wrong, so there's no pressure."

"Then what?"

Belinda winked. "I suspect you'll figure that out on your own, but if not, that's when I pop back between my Egypt excavation and my Timbuktu pilgrimage to give you a second lesson in spells."

"Okay," I said. "So then—"

"I really do have to go now," Belinda said. "Dom knows how to get in touch with me if you need something. That rich idiot makes it hard to hide from him."

"Tell me about it. Then again," I said wryly, "you could always give him a potion to make him lost indefinitely. Then he wouldn't be able to find his own toothbrush."

Belinda looked a bit sheepish. "I'd apologize for hexing you, but it was for a good cause."

I didn't get to ask what the cause was because Belinda had already pulled out a vial of pixie dust and was in the process of fiddling the cap off, presumably to get started on her trek to Egypt.

While she fiddled with the pesky vial full of unstable pixie dust, something caught my eye. An aura, but this one was different. It was a shade of red that felt like an alarm to me. It was tucked under an elephant-ear sized leaf, the aura radiating out beneath it like a gentle glow from one of the more obscure garden beds in Le Jardín.

"Plants don't have auras, right?" I muttered to Belinda. "So why is there an aura seeping out of the garden bed?"

I knelt, noting that Belinda's hands stilled on the vial as she watched me. Brushing the massive shiny green leaf aside, I found a small garden gnome statue tipped on its side. It looked old, as if it'd been here awhile, possibly swept under this leaf and forgotten about for years. It was half submerged in the dirt with only its eyes and nose visible.

"That's weird," I said, digging the stone statue out and setting him upright on the path. "Do you see what I'm seeing?"

Belinda licked her lips. "Inanimate objects don't have auras either."

"I know," I said, then realizing what that meant, I repeated, "Belinda, could this be an actual gnome?"

"The aura is so faint for me, it's hard to say. What do you see?"

"Alarm-red is what came to mind," I said. "I didn't really decide on that as a color, it just popped into my head."

Belinda looked unsettled, her hands still holding the pixie dust vial before her as if she'd forgotten about it completely .

"There's one way to check. The spell you're looking for is Libertia . If you feel comfortable trying it."

" Libertia ? What does it do?"

"It frees someone who's been frozen. Cursed," Belinda said, her voice quiet and uncertain. "You won't know for sure if it works unless you try it."

"Can you do it?"

"I can."

I shivered. "But you think I should do it."

Belinda inclined her head.

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and let instinct take over. I rested a hand gently on the gnome's head. Then I whispered, " Libertia ."

The only way I could describe the feeling of the spell initiating was like a river of hot chocolate running through my blood. Warm, sweet, familiar. A cozy, welcome sensation, not unlike the feeling of slipping into an old sweater on a crisp autumn day. It brought up good thoughts, good feelings. There was nothing remotely alarming or frightening about the magic this time around.

I opened my eyes, saw my hands glowing—not with the threatening, blinding white light of unbridled magic, but a nice, warm yellow. Gentle, seeping into the garden gnome. The light transferred from my hands to the stone of the statue, causing bright fissures in the rock, like lava draining down the side of a volcano.

Something sparked, and a loud crack echoed as the gnome's exterior split in two. My heart raced, and I worried I'd gotten things all wrong .

Then the gnome began to grow in size. He grew and grew until he was approximately three and a half feet tall and very round. His cheeks turned ruddy and red, his exterior changing to skin instead of stone. His rock shoes turned into real leather boots. The hat perched on his head turned into a real top hat that blew off in the breeze.

"About damn time," the gnome muttered, turning to me, his eyes bloodshot.

"Excuse me?" I muttered, stumbling back.

"Been cursed since 1852. What year is it?"

"I'm a little afraid to tell you," I mumbled back. "Maybe you can just Google it."

"A-Googler what?" The gnome looked at me like I was an idiot. "Witches. Always been nonsensical idiots."

Then the gnome marched away, scooping up his top hat as he went and squashing it back onto his head. He whistled his way out of the gates of Le Jardín, leaving me to stare at Belinda in amazement.

"So?" Belinda prompted with a clear of her throat. "How did that feel?"

I looked down at my hands. "Actually, it felt nice. Good. Natural."

"You just saved that gnome from who-knows-how-much-longer he'd have been cursed. Hexed under a Bulbous Leaf—they smell like rotten eggs when it rains. What a miserable existence, the poor thing."

I could only stare after him. "I can't process what just happened."

Belinda reached over, squeezed my shoulder. "Go have a glass of wine and take the day off, sweet cheeks. Most people don't free others from curses until Lesson 13 at the very least. You've done good today."

Then Belinda blinked, like she was snapping back to attention, and popped the lid off her vial.

"My work here is done." She puckered up her lips and blew me a kiss. "Toodles, honey. You're gonna do great things."

Then she was gone, and I was left alone in the garden of my dreams, watching a bad-tempered gnome march away from me, free for the first time in over 150 years because I'd decided to embrace my magical powers.