Spells on Shelves - ONC2024

Chapter 1 || I Don't Sacrifice Pets

The shop was haunted.

I stood on the very tip of my toes, trying to reach the box labeled Enchanted Jewelry on the highest shelf next to the large windowfront when a flash of white across the street caught my eye.

At the corner of Mullet and Baxton Street stood a boy of about twelve years in a beige trenchcoat. The sun at his back cast a shadow over his features, but his shock-white blond hair and pale, almost unearthly, skin were so distinct that I recognized him immediately.

He was back again. At the same spot. In the same attire. Not so subtly staring at me—or maybe at the shop. It was hard to tell. A pedestrian hurried past the boy, keeping his head down and seemingly paying the kid no attention.

Suspicious. Then again, most folks passed the shop in a similar manner. As if lingering for just a moment longer would somehow summon me to curse their heads off. Not that I actually could.

Still, who would hang in the very same spot and stare at a place? A spirit with unfinished business. At least that was my current theory. Not that I had ever seen one before. Were spirits corporeal these days? Maybe I should ask the next shaman I encountered. Spirits were their area of expertise after all.

Just when I was about to lower the box, it slipped out of my grip, toppled over, and spilled its contents onto the floor. This was the third time that I had dropped something today.

I glanced back outside. The boy had disappeared.

The shop had to be haunted.

With a sigh, I stepped down and inspected the assortments of herbs, candles, and scrolls now lying on the floor. Definitely not enchanted jewelry.

The doorbell chimed.

I looked up. A tall woman clad in black leather boots and jacket, her blond hair cut short in a pixie cut, strode into the shop with a wide grin.

"Heya, Jade," Livvy greeted me. "How's business?"

"Slow," I replied.

Livvy worked in the towns' administration and had been my contact when I'd stumbled upon the ad for a witch to run their spell shop. So far, no one had even entered the shop since I'd taken over two weeks ago. Which suited me perfectly fine.

Staring at the mess around, she continued, "Uh...What are you doing?"

"Organizing." I held up a glass. "This is patchouli not moongrass. I also found mangoes in a box labeled cursed artifacts. Who the hell ran this place?"

"Oh. Well to be honest, Mrs, Rose and I did. She and her husband run the bakery down the street. Druids," she added at my confused face. "Their cinnamon rolls are the best you'll ever taste, but beware the cookie selection. Unless you want to go on a trip. Anyways, I thought they should know a thing or two about herbs."

I couldn't help but pull a face. After three years among humans, I stumbled upon their—admittedly vague job advertisement. The lack of requirements for the positions hinted at either desperation, ignorance about witchcraft, or both. But asking a druid to run the shop? That was like hiring a gardener to be a chef. However, it explained why all the herbs were in great condition.

"In any case, you made it sound like the town desperately needed a witch, but it's been almost eerily quiet." I tried to keep my voice nonchalant. "This place isn't haunted or anything, right?"

For some reason, I didn't want to mention the boy. No point making it seem as if I was seeing things.

"What?" Livvy asked, seemingly distracted by the gems I'd displayed next to the counter. "No, of course not."