Chapter 3

  Meredith And The Apothecary Shop

  Meredith awoke early the next morning. She eased into wakefulness as her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. Finally, when Meredith decided she was ready to begin the day, she arched her back and groaned as she stretched her body the length of the bed. When she relaxed from her agonizingly wonderful stretch, she said, “Good morning, Cici.”

  A small bundle of black fur purred beside her. Meredith whipped her blanket off, got up, and yanked the blinds open to reveal a soft yellow sunlight. She shuffled to the washroom in her long purple nightgown, groomed herself, and then returned to her room. She snagged her wand off the desk beside her bed and gave it a swish. A dark blue dress whipped out of her closet and swapped itself with her nightgown, which flew away into the closet. Meredith looked down; the smooth fabric dress was awash in the dark blue of the cosmos, with twinkling stars and amorphous celestial gases swirling across it. She magicked on her matching pointed hat, stockings, and black knee-high boots. It was a perfect first-day outfit. Too bad she didn’t have a mirror.

  Meredith and Cici entered the kitchen where Grandma, clad in a black robe, was bewitching breakfast. After the witches and their cat familiars ate by the fireplace, Meredith and Grandma deciphered each other’s dreams and read their tea leaves. Satisfied, the pair strolled into the morning-lit shop. Grandma led Meredith around and showed her how to activate and deactivate the glowing orbs that floated overhead, the magical locks and protections placed upon the house and store, and other routines. The young witch quickly memorized them. Finally, when Grandma had finished, Meredith excitedly flipped the sign attached to the door to ‘Open’ and raced behind the counter beside the elder witch. She stared at the front door and eagerly waited.

  “I try to keep a normal schedule for the shop,” Grandma explained. “But things happen—house calls go for longer than expected; I wake up late, you know, life happens.” She shrugged. “Anyway, the sign is bewitched. Anyone who wants to shop here gets a tingle in their left pinky soon after the sign flips to “open.”

  Meredith nodded in understanding.

  It wasn’t long before multiple mysterious customers began to pile in, many of whom hid their identity beneath the hoods of their cloaks or robes; some even had face coverings. The bell above the front door jingled as the continuous stream flowed in. The once-quiet shop was soon awash with the bustle of the growing, jostling crowd.

  Grandma whispered to Meredith, “Some customers enjoy their privacy.”

  “Where are they all coming from?” Meredith asked as she looked past a goat man towards the door. From her vantage point, it seemed the customers appeared out of thin air before striding in, but they weren’t visible from the windows.

  “They usually teleport just outside. Some fly,” Grandma answered. “It’s rather rude to teleport directly into someone’s home or shop. There aren’t many magical beings in Greenwood like us, so the foot traffic we get is usually from townsfolk needing house calls or remedies.”

  “I see,” Meredith replied as she saw—just outside the constantly swinging door—glimpses of robed figures appearing out of nowhere in a multitude of mysterious flames, smoke, or flashes.

  “Excuse me,” a fish headed person glubbed and beckoned for Grandma. “Do you have any dried ashwort?”

  “Right this way.” Grandma shifted around the shop counter. “Follow me,” she told Meredith.

  Meredith spent the day as Grandma’s assistant, and the elder witch quickly put her granddaughter to work. Throughout the morning, Meredith shadowed her, learning about different apothecary ingredients, enchanted items, how to brew commonly requested potions, and ferried plants from Grandma’s garden.

  “Help this fellow, would you?” Grandma asked of Meredith, gesturing toward the hooded figure before her. “I have to assist this gentleman.” She turned and weaved through the crowd with a thin tree-man close behind.

  “How can I help you?” Meredith asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

  “I need dried yarrow,” a voice emanated beneath the hood.

  “Follow me,” Meredith said proudly, knowing exactly where they were. She led him to the side of the shop before a large apothecary cabinet. She flicked open a drawer; rows of dried bundles of red, yellow, and orange yarrow flowers were inside.

  “Any color in particular?” Meredith asked.

  “Whichever helps with indigestion.”

  “Hm…” Meredith didn’t know which one did that. “Grandma!” she called over her shoulder. “Which yarrow is best for indigestion?”

  “They’re all good, but especially the red!” Grandma’s voice carried over the crowded shoppers’ heads.

  “Here you go.” Meredith plucked the yarrow from the box and handed it to the client.

  “Thank you,” he said, disappearing into the throng of busy patrons.

  Meredith started back towards the counter.

  “Close the apothecary drawer,” a voice echoed in her mind.

  Meredith froze. It surely wasn’t her own internal voice. Was it Grandma? It didn’t sound like her, but maybe her mental voice sounded different? It sounded deep and stretched. Could someone be reading her mind? She didn’t know. Meredith pushed the thought away, turned around, and shut the drawer.

  The witch-in-training helped tend to a variety of clientele. She began to memorize the shop's layout and where some of the most requested items were.

  “Excuse me,” a dwarf asked Meredith, “do you have any Turkey Tail mushrooms?” She did.

  “Excuse me,” a fairy called, “are there any bilberry extract?” There certainly were.

  “Excuse me,” a wolf woman gruffed, “I need moonstone.” Meredith could procure that.

  “Excuse me!”

  “Excuse me!”

  “Excuse me!”

  “Excuse me!”

  “No, not that one Meredith!” Grandma called. “The other jar, to your left.”

  “Excuse me!”

  “Excuse me!”

  Meredith’s mind spun from the constant requests, each crashing over her like a wave. Her neck ached from whipping towards each cry for help.

  “Meredith!” Grandma called from behind the counter, her voice cutting through the din. Jostling through the bustling patrons, Meredith finally reached her grandmother, grateful for the brief reprieve.

  “They’re helpless, aren’t they? Grandma whispered to her.

  “They certainly…need a lot of help.” Meredith sighed.

  “Yeah.” Grandma smiled. “If you go around this counter, they swarm you like ants, don’t they?”

  “It feels that way. It feels good to help, though.” Meredith beamed.

  “It does, doesn’t it?” Grandma grew silent for a moment, lost in thought. “I’m having a wonderful time.”

  “Me too!”

  “And don’t worry,” Grandma continued more seriously, “you’re safe behind the counter. I don’t know what it is, but something about this counter keeps the crazies away.” Grandma nudged her. “Maybe because they got blasted last time they swarmed me.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Hey.” Grandma shrugged. “You have to set boundaries!”

  “And people still shop here?”

  “There’s nowhere else to buy this stuff.”

  “Whoa.” Meredith stared at her Grandma with astonishment and respect. “So, I can just blast people if I need to?”

  “You don’t need permission to blast someone who needs to get blasted.” Grandma looked at her sternly. “But don’t get too crazy. Unless you need to. Don’t start fights, but be sure to end them. Protect yourself. You’re more important than them. Live to see another day. One of you is going to bed at night; make sure it’s you.”

  “Holy hell, Grandma!” Meredith frantically exclaimed. “What did you get me into?”

  “No, no, it’s not like that.” Grandma wagged her hand at Meredith. “I’m not going to be here all summer, remember? I’m going on my vacation. It’s my job to make sure you’re prepared for any and all circumstances. Don’t think of it as something you’ll need to necessitate frequently, but things happen, and you need to know how to handle them. For instance, what do you do if you shatter a crystal ball?”

  “I don’t know.” Meredith shrugged. “Sweep it up?”

  “Heavens, no!” Grandma shook her head. “We’ll go over that later.” She turned to watch the bustling crowd, the lesson over. As her shadow, Meredith did as well. She watched them pick through books, scrolls, bushels of herbs, jars of animal bones, incense sticks, dangling necklaces and bracelets, rings, and all sorts of spectacular odds and ends.

  Many of the clients were hooded and hid their faces; others shopped less discreetly, including gnomes, dwarves, fairies, high elves, dark elves, wood elves, a spiky ball creature, blue amphibious people, a sentient rock, and many witches and wizards, some who had adopted certain features of other beings.

  “Stay away from those.” Grandma tilted her head towards a peculiar being. The view was mostly blocked for Meredith, barely catching a glimpse through the thick crowd. It had a chicken head, duck feet, and a woman’s face and seemed to emit an incredibly terrible, murderous, tantalizing aura.

  “Okay,” Meredith said, astonished. She had never seen such an assortment of beings and was interested in all of them. Grandma’s shop was more diverse than the entirety of Meredith’s tiny hometown and academy, both human establishments.

  At noon, and after the morning rush had thinned out, the pair ate a quick lunch while Mama Cat and Cici watched over the shop. Afterward, Meredith followed Grandma outside to her mailbox attached to the wall beside the shop door. The elder witch sifted through the sheets of parchment.

  “All house call requests.” Grandma handed some to Meredith. “The mailbox is enchanted. Any notes or letters addressed to us will teleport inside.”

  “How handy!” Meredith replied as she flipped through them. Mr. Smith had a goiter. Mrs. Potts had swollen bunions. Sally knocked out her permanent teeth again. There were a multitude of other ailments that Meredith had never heard of that afflicted many other townsfolk. Grandma waved her wand, and a large leather duffel floated out of the house and hung in the air beside her.

  “Let’s walk,” she said.

  The pair bid goodbye to Mama Cat and Cici and trod down the winding, dusty path leading to the cobblestone streets of Greenwood. Between greeting the occasional passerby and introducing Meredith, Grandma instructed the younger witch in all manner of healing arts as they walked through town. Meredith’s head was spinning.

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  “We charge our clients in the shop, but we trade with the townsfolk, whether it be for food, services, or rarities,” Grandma told her grandchild. “I couldn’t dream of asking for money from them. They’re a poor lot, but they usually give us something in return for our services. For instance, I would heal a sick child in exchange for nearly nothing, but I would up the ante for superficial requests. Does that make sense?”

  Meredith nodded, her bootheels clacking against the white stone as they made their way deeper into town.

  “Be gentle with your wand movements around sick people,” Grandma continued. “Don’t jab it at them; it freaks them out. Don’t let fear or worry show on your face; you don’t want to upset them. A comfortable client is easier to help.

  If you’re not confident in a spell, don’t cast it. Check the spell book and study it over and over until you are. You don’t want to hex anyone accidentally. The same goes for potions.”

  “We haven’t covered anything like this at the Academy,” Meredith said.

  “Bah,” Grandma grumbled. “These days, that old place barely scratches the basics of witchcraft. Back in my day, we had to perform surgery on trolls while they were trying to kill us!”

  Meredith looked at her Grandma in shock.

  “Normal anesthetics don’t work on trolls.” she shrugged. “I wanted your mother to move up here so you could be closer to a more reputable establishment and the magical community, but she wouldn’t have it. She wanted to raise you in a calmer environment.”

  “Huh.” Meredith didn’t know how she felt about that. She had enjoyed her childhood in her remote village and wondered how her life would’ve changed. Oh well, better late than never.

  The occasional young man would gawk at Meredith in passing.

  “You’re the new girl in town,” Grandma nudged her. Meredith blushed, her chest and cheeks growing hot. “Anyway, all you need is some good old-fashioned O-J-T!”

  “O-J-T?”

  “On the Job Training!” Grandma winked. “No better way to test your magical mettle!”

  The elder witch stopped at multiple houses and performed the necessary treatments, charms, or chores, usually with a whip of her wand and sometimes with a sip of a potion. Wherever Grandma went, goiters and bunions shrunk, and teeth stuck back in their sockets. Meredith watched as Grandma magicked boils and rashes away, siphoned tumors, and applied gels to achy limbs. She taught Meredith some basic healing spells and let her handle stitching minor cuts, speeding the healing of scabs, and removing moles. She was slower than Grandma, but the successful treatment bolstered the young witch’s confidence.

  “That was the last one,” Grandma announced as they stepped out of Patrick’s house and onto the faint white-turned-orange cobblestone streets as the sun slowly descended toward the mountainous, forested horizon.

  “Let’s head home and rest a bit. All work and no play makes for a dull witch, wouldn’t you say?”

  “That was a lot, Grandma,” Meredith replied, exasperated. “How do you know so much?”

  Grandma laughed and began walking home. Meredith sluggishly followed behind.

  “I’ve been doing this kind of work for years,” Grandma replied. “I don’t know everything, but I do know how to find the answers I need. The ability to research effectively is essential! We’ll scour my library later.”

  The witches returned to the shop with their well-earned spoils stashed in their purses, Cici and Mama cat waiting on the countertop, and nary a customer.

  “You want to see this, Thomas?” Grandma called out.

  The three-eyed Toad appeared in his enclosure.

  Meredith and Grandma emptied their bags onto the shop counter, revealing a loaf of sourdough bread, six ears of corn, a jar of sugar, a black gemstone, a silver hand mirror, a small box of nails, a vial of bone ash, robin feathers, snake fangs, and a tantalizing rumor from Patricia.

  The witches closed the shop while Cici and Mama Cat sniffed and inspected the haul. Cici was drawn to the black gemstone, pawing at it with keen interest. Meredith trailed behind Grandma, carefully observing as the older witch cast charms throughout the shop, determined to commit each one to memory.

  After a small snack, Grandma started dinner with a whip of her wand and sent cooking utensils to work in the kitchen. They clattered noisily as they prepared the food. Grandma beckoned Meredith outside.

  “Let’s see what you’ve got up your sleeves.” Grandma smiled as the pair stood in the side yard, just beside the fenced garden. “Show me some magic! I need to see if you’ve got what it takes to run my shop!”

  “Alright.” Meredith cocked an eyebrow and steadied herself confidently as she rose to the challenge. “How’s this?”

  Meredith let loose a steady flow of magic from within her. It warmed her body, moving from her chest to her outstretched arm. She flourished her wand around and around before her while speaking the ancient language of magic.

  “Velyra Taryn!”

  A small gust of wind gently wafted around the pair as Meredith felt the magic buzz through her body in warm gushes. She continued wafting her wand in slow, steady circles. The wind slowly grew stronger until a small tornado bustled just above the ground before the young witch. Twigs, dust, bugs, and bits of dry grass fluttered in circles, trapped within the turbulent air.

  “Very good.” Grandma clapped. “Now make it bigger.”

  Meredith winced. She had never tried that before. She allowed even more magic to flow through her as she guided the gust of wind with her wand. It was difficult, but she dipped into her reservoir of power and let it flow through her. The tornado expanded outward and upward and engulfed Meredith and Grandma in dust, whipping their hair sideways.

  “That’s enough,” Grandma hollered flatly over the whipping wind, fists on hips.

  Meredith cut off the flow of magic, ending the spell. The wind quickly dissipated, dropping the collected bits of debris onto the ground. The young witch suddenly felt drained.

  “I regret that,” Grandma muttered as she spat the dust from her mouth and, whipping her wand, pulled the dust off herself and Meredith and let it fall away.

  “Well done.” She continued. “But the wind is easy to call upon. Show me something more substantial.”

  Meredith, slightly chagrined, thought for a moment before deciding on a spell that would dazzle Grandma. She pointed her wand at the ground before her, once again calling upon the magic within her, and said, “Naltha Rosari!”

  Meredith stood still as a statue, concentrating as she pointed her wand at the ground. Her brow furrowed in a mixture of focus and consternation. She felt the magic flow through her body and into her creation in the ground. She sensed a small seed form below the surface. Then, the roots erupted from it and spread outwards.

  “I’m waiting.” Grandma teased.

  Meredith strained as she forced more magic through her. A slight, green plug broke through the dirt amongst the thin blades of grass. Jubilation and confidence erupted within the young witch. She continued her concentration and flow of magic. The plant quickly grew taller and thicker, with fresh, bright green leaves emerging from the stem. Meredith’s strength began to waver as it grew, but she refused to give up. She was almost done! Branching parts of the plant grew outward from the base and turned from green to hard, thorny, dark wood before ending in bulbs that slowly unfurled to reveal soft pink roses.

  Satisfied and exhausted, Meredith finally cut off her flow of magic. She bent over, hands on knees, gasping for air. The small, prickly rose bush stood on its own.

  “Interesting.” Grandma rubbed her chin as she stepped forward and examined Meredith’s creation. She glanced up at the panting young witch. “Oh dearie, you’ve gone and worn yourself out!”

  “It’s nothing,” Meredith wheezed, waving the accusation away. “I’m fine.”

  “What you’ve done is very impressive, Meredith,” Grandma stated. “And I’m glad to see you’ve learned how to control the output of your magic. Your grammar needs some work though, as well as your intention.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well,” Grandma began, with a finger on her chin. “If I’m not mistaken, your spell was crafted to simply create a rose bush. Meaning: you used an immense amount of energy to create something from nothing. Your rose bush was created out of your own energy. That’s why you feel so tired now. It would’ve been much easier and more efficient to have transfigured, say, a patch of grass into a rose bush since it is already a living thing with energy of its own to draw upon. Does that make sense? Transforming is easier than creating and much less taxing. Using up all your magical energy can lead to dire consequences, such as death or coma. You would be wise to remember that.”

  Meredith’s curly hair bobbed as she nodded.

  “Regardless, that was quite remarkable.” Grandma smiled. “Let’s move it to the garden, though.” She waved her wand, and the rose bush rustled up out of the ground and slithered on its roots across the yard, over the white picket fence that enclosed the garden, and nestled into an empty spot in the ground.

  “As for your intention—,” Grandma continued her lecture, “—It is important to be clear-headed and focused when casting a spell. If you don’t know the correct words to make your spell, your intention can compensate for it. But! It can be disastrous if you aren’t focused! Eventually, you’ll be able to cast all sorts of spells without a word and by only thinking your intention and bending the magic to your will.”

  “I can do some of that already,” Meredith huffed, her pride wounded. She felt a hint of embarrassment clench at her chest, but she took a breath, stood upright, and accepted her Grandma’s teaching and lessons. She would be a fool to discount them. “But I’ll work on it more. I want to be a great witch like you.”

  “I’m sure that will be the case regardless of my instruction.” Grandma beamed. Then, a thought struck her.

  “Ah! I know what you need!” She swished her wand, and a small book materialized before her. Grandma shooed it toward Meredith, who snagged it out of the air.

  “It’s a magical language dictionary,” Grandma announced as Meredith looked it over. “If ever there is a time when you don’t know the right word to use in a spell, consult this.”

  “Thanks, Grandma!”

  “This will help you with your grammar as well.”

  Grandma proceeded to provide Meredith with an in-depth explanation of correct spell structure and the history and nuances of the magical language. Meredith had to force her eyes from glazing over in boredom and information overload as Grandma droned on and on.

  The pair practiced more magic before flying on their brooms for a short jaunt while waiting for dinner to finish. After Meredith, Grandma, Cici, and Mama Cat dined, they ended the night on the padded chairs beside the fireplace, tired from the day’s labor. The pair talked and read spell books.

  “Here.” Grandma fished something out of her pocket. She pulled out a thin metal necklace with a small sapphire inlaid within the centerpiece and handed it to Meredith.

  “It’s beautiful, but what’s it for?” The younger witch eyed the slightly glowing sapphire as she took the necklace and let it dangle from her fingers. She couldn’t tell if it was from the reflection from the fireplace or something more.

  “Can’t a grandmother shower her granddaughter with gifts?” Grandma smiled. “It’s a power gem.”

  Meredith, her body and mind worn, waited for an explanation.

  “Don’t tell me you never learned about power gems at the academy!”

  Meredith pursed her lips and shook her head. Grandma sighed in dismay.

  “Really, that academy must be nothing more than a daycare these days.” Grandma sighed her frustration away and continued. “A power gem is a means to store magical energy and draw upon it in the future. Any gemstone can be used as a power gem, but the size is important; the larger the gem, the more energy it can hold. This one has a little bit of my magical energy stored within it; go ahead and replenish your own store of energy. Just focus on the magic within and siphon it into yourself.”

  Meredith followed Grandma’s instructions. She held the necklace in her palm and reached out with her mind. Meredith felt the magic gently swirling within it. She slowly coaxed the magic out of it and into herself. Meredith instantly felt invigorated and buzzed with energy.

  “This is amazing!” Meredith exclaimed as she stopped the flow of magic.

  “Indeed.” Grandma smiled. “It’s extremely useful when your own magic is exhausted. Make sure to store some magic within it every night before bed! Your magic will replenish itself, the same as your tired body does, so it’s ok to spare some before you sleep.”

  Meredith nodded and looped the necklace around her neck.

  “Take a spare, too,” Grandma said, pulling out another power gem from her pocket: a palm-sized yellow topaz. She tossed it to Meredith. “For bigger emergencies.”

  For the remainder of the week, Meredith worked as Grandma’s assistant. During the day, she spent her time voraciously soaking in as much information as possible. She scribbled notes, stuck them in places as reminders, and tended to the many needs of the magical clientele.

  During afternoon house calls, Meredith and Grandma would walk down the cobblestone streets to the patient’s home, where Meredith was instructed on the many ailments that afflicted the townsfolk and how to alleviate them. The residents were happy to have another witch in town, although some seemed apprehensive about being treated by a novice. However, all were friendly by the end of the house call. Meredith tried hard to remember all their names.

  In the late afternoon, after closing the shop, Meredith and Grandma would go to the sideyard to fly, practice magic, or duel while dinner was prepared.

  Dueling was a tradition in many magical families and schools. The ability to defend oneself is a chief tenant of magical society. Meredith had often dueled with her father to determine who did the dishes after dinner. Her mother didn’t enjoy them, though. Meredith kept the fact that she was an accomplished duelist at the Academy to herself. It was easy for her. Blast them before they blast you; deflect whatever comes your way.

  At school, Meredith and her fellow student opponents commonly utilized the ‘Sylis Tarna’ spell, a forceful, translucent wave of energy that would erupt from their wands and smash into their opponents, lest they counter with ‘Velos Arien,’ a shimmering, deflecting ward. The duelists would continue until one was bashed into defeat.

  It turned out that dueling Grandma was much more intricate and fast-paced; she had to think faster and work harder than she ever had in her school duels. Grandma got a lot of hits in, while Meredith didn’t. Then, the elder witch would toy with her.

  One afternoon, with a flick of Grandma’s wand, Meredith found herself spun around and knee-deep in a small quagmire. When she tried to trudge out of the muck, she was subsequently blasted across the yard. Meredith stood, and her vision was impaired; everything had become upside down! She staggered, dizzy, as her brain failed to make sense of her bewitched eyesight. Suddenly, she was slipping on ice. Grandma continued to toy with the poor girl. Meredith had no counterspells against the elder witch’s attacks. The exhausted girl summoned a wall of dirt before her as protection, only for Grandma to burst it into butterflies.

  “Let’s take a break,” Grandma said, removing her hexes from the poor girl.

  “Thank goodness!” Meredith huffed with her hands on her knees.

  “It’s important to push your limits,” Grandma instructed. “That’s how you grow!”

  “You need to teach me some of those spells! And how to counter them!”

  Days passed. Grandma’s magical tutelage was as painful as it was informative. Meredith never left the duels without new bruises, cuts, and sometimes broken bones. But she fought back tears every time it happened. Grandma would force a bitter, burning tincture down the younger witch’s throat to mend the injuries or trace her wand across open wounds and magically stitch the skin together.

  “You’re catching on quick!” Grandma had said after a particularly long exchange of spells and counterspells. The prospect of returning to school after such harsh training emboldened Meredith. Then Grandma started to get rowdy again. She always did.

  Every night, the witches dined with their cats in the sitting room. They’d chat and laugh about the day, but the conversation would eventually turn into a lecture on magic, which Meredith absorbed eagerly. Later, Grandma would take Meredith out to fly, practice new spells, or brew potions under the moonlight, the bright orb bolstering the witches’ power and enhancing their concoctions.

  Before bed, the young witch would siphon some of her magic into the power gem set into her necklace and the topaz lying on her desk.

  Finally, and all too quickly for Meredith, the day of Grandma’s departure arrived.