Practical Potions and Premeditated Murder (Practical Potions Mysteries Book 1), page 1
Contents
1. Inquire Within for Daily Offerings
2. Rocks, Of Course
3. A Cat Named Koukie
4. Oh, Sheet
5. Definitely Dead
6. Sleep on It
7. A Casual Haunting
8. Interview with the Witch
9. Moral Ob-brew-gation
10. A Ticket to Kill For
11. Can’t Back Down Now
12. A Mead-iocre Plan
13. Lucky Brew
14. Mead, Melodies, and Murder Suspects
15. Sounds Spooky
16. One Small Setback
17. Spells and Seaglass
18. Boo-sy Breakfast
19. Dead End
20. Scones by the Creek
21. The Witch’s Mark
22. Free Samples
23. Fish in a Pond
24. The Letter
25. Practice Makes Perfect
26. Be Back Sooooon
27. Clean Up Crew
28. Ghost Heist
29. A Ruckus at the Hotel
30. An Excellent Bookkeeper
31. Like Bees to Flowers
32. Beejee’s Spell
33. Not Bad for a Kitchen Witch
34. Learn to Swim
35. Haunting Bees
ONE
Inquire Within for Daily Offerings
“This is getting depressing,” Sella said. She stared out the large bay window of her shop, but her gaze was empty. It was raining, and the view was mostly obscured by water droplets and fog that clung to the edges of the glass. She could make out a few figures – people busy in the morning on their way to work or the market.
“I think the sign will help,” said the gray tabby cat at her side. He padded at the blue cushioned bench and curled peacefully as if he really believed it. His ear flicked, then his tail: an obvious clue that he was actually as annoyed as she. “People didn’t know before that you were certified.” He closed his eyes. “They might have thought you’d accidentally poison them.”
Sella leaned forward and squinted. The large sign taped to the window read ‘Certified Kitchen Witch: Inquire Within for Daily Offerings.’ The sign was Beejee’s idea. Of course the cat thought it would help.
It hadn’t.
Sella squinted into the fog and rain as a shadow approached the door. She stood tall, adjusting her face to a wide smile just as the bell above the shop door chimed. Beejee stood at attention as a tall, broad man entered. He had to duck through the opening so his ram’s horns wouldn’t bump the upper door frame. He smiled at them, though it was difficult to discern with the bushy auburn beard covering most of his face.
“Hazen, good morning!” Sella’s genuine smile broke her customer-facing mask and gestured for him to come in. Relief spread through her shoulders as she moved through the shop, past the wall of wooden cubbies filled with glistening jars of premade potions and lavender honey. While she moved, little flames lit overhead at her unspoken command, illuminating the shop with a warm, welcoming glow.
“The usual?” She ducked below the counter to grab her pestle, mortar, and metal coffee maker. Another quick flick of her wrist, and calm music began to play. She popped up and placed all the ingredients and tools in a neat row.
“Please,” Hazen said. He stepped deeper into the shop and gave Beejee a small nod. “Add a splash of patience, if you don’t mind.”
Sella dipped the tablespoon into the jar of coffee grounds. “May I ask?” She raised her brow at him.
Hazen shrugged. “My new bookkeeper is keeping me busy. Apparently, I’ve been doing my files all wrong, and she’s reorganizing the whole system.”
Sella chuckled. She poured the grounds into the metal container and lit the fire beneath with her finger. “That would be frustrating for a stubborn old man like you.” She retreated under the counter again to pull premade spell jars labeled ‘Keep it Together,’ a focus blend with hints of chestnut, and ‘Don’t Strangle People,’ her patience blend with rich caramel notes. She added scoops of each to the coffee grounds and mixed it with a tiny whisk. Then she closed her eyes, hands hovering over the warm steam rising from the metal pot. Her fingers tingled with magic — and as an afterthought, she added a little extra happiness to his cup today.
Beejee leapt onto the counter. “Can we get her info? Your receipts in a box would appall anyone with business sense.”
All Hazen heard was meows. He cocked his head at the cat. “Talkative today, huh?”
Sella opened her eyes and flicked near Beejee’s ear playfully. He swatted her hand. “He thinks I’m bad at business.”
Hazen’s eyes surveyed the shop. He looked from the spell jars on the wall, most of them gathering dust, to the little fires overhead. “Well…” he said cautiously. “You don’t exactly have the thriving clientele your mother did.”
“We’ve only been back less than a year.” Sella rolled her eyes. She poured Hazen’s cup, an extra large yellow ceramic mug, and slid it across the counter. The space between them filled with silver steam, tinged with the scent of rainy earth and nutty, sweet caramel. “And small towns are small towns. It’ll take time for people to trust me after I left. I’ve changed a lot.”
Hazen took a sip of the dark liquid. He raised the glass to her, a half grin sliding across his face with appreciation, and took another long drink before leaning back a little, letting the magic take hold slowly. “Well, you did come back with new spells and ingredients that sounded a little suspect.” He fished out a few coins from his pocket. “Some of us ‘stubborn old men’ are stuck in our ways.”
He set the gold coins on the counter and smiled at her. “My brain is still processing your bloodbane lecture. Something about it being bad for the gut?” He went on before she could interject, “And frankly, I’m still not sold on wolfseye not being an actual wolf’s eye. It looks an awful lot like a wolf’s eye.”
“Bloodbane causes headaches. Wolfseye is a far superior substitute,” Sella said urgently, as if she would have to explain it all over again.
Hazen raised his hands and laughed. “I know, I know. I saw the error of my ways, but it took me a while. Your mother opened this shop decades ago… kept the same spells, the same recipes… You come back from traveling about and start serving coffee and changing things up?”
“We still sell honey.” Sella leaned on the counter.
“Ah yes, the retirement honey,” Beejee mumbled.
“All I’m saying is, between your return home, and now my new foreign bookkeeper coming in here and changing everything I’ve been doing for years… It’s a lot.” Hazen eyed Sella with a raised brow. “You’d actually like Cali a lot. She loves numbers the way you love your potions. Maybe talk to her next time she’s in here. I know she comes in on occasion.” His tone made Sella bristle a little. He was being a little too obvious.
Beejee was having none of it. “We don’t need new friends. And you certainly don’t need a–“
“Keep the change, little guy.” Hazen unwittingly cut him off. He tapped the counter and pushed the coins closer to Beejee.
Beejee half hissed, half purred at him.
The bell above the door rang again. “And we have Aadel,” Sella pushed herself up from the counter and smiled at the woman. “Good morning, Aadel!”
“Oh, honey,” the older woman said. “It’s a dreadful day out there. Dreadful. Lohrna is checking on the bees, but should be in soon.” She shook out her coat on the entryway. Droplets of rain splattered across the dark floor, where they slid into the thick cracks of the old wood. She ran her hands through wild gray hair. Some of it tangled in her antlers, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Oh, hello, Hazen!” Her sharp eyes scanned him. “Good to see you in here so early.”
“My new bookkeeper is keeping me busy.” He shrugged.
“The human girl?” Aadel asked.
Hazen nodded. “She’s a good kid. From Tollintal. Kind of an interesting background on that one… I can’t quite figure her out.” His voice drifted off, as if lost in a dream for a moment.
“Imagine – you – letting a human girl boss you about. I promise I won’t tell anyone about it; you’d never hear the end of it.”
Sella’s eyes drifted from Hazen to Aadel. Sella knew she’d tell everyone. Immediately. As soon as they left the shop.
Aadel squeezed his arm lightly as she approached the counter, unaware of Hazen’s odd moment. “Our sweet Sella…” she said. “A strong cuppa, if you don’t mind, please. And a scone…” She sniffed the air. “Is that blueberry I smell?”
Sella’s face brightened. It was rare enough that people bought her potions. Almost no one bought her baked goods, but she was up before dawn everyday making them anyway. She tucked a chunk of choppy black hair behind her pointed ear. Whatever had changed Aadel’s mind to make her crave one now, Sella would have to try to replicate in the future. She tried to hide her excitement by blurting out, “I made them fresh early this morning.”
“Infused with anything special?” Aadel asked.
“A little cinnamon,” Sella said. “And courage.”
“Courage!” Aadel slapped the counter with both hands.
Beejee yelped at the sudden sound. He scrambled away and up the narrow stairs behind the counter.
Aadel didn’t see
Sella followed Beejee toward the stairs. “Coming right down,” she told Aadel. “Hazen? You overpaid for the coffee anyway. No charge.”
“I have an overabundance of courage!” He patted his soft stomach beneath the plain tunic. “Appreciate it, though.”
Sella laughed and ascended the stairs after her familiar. It only took a moment to retrieve the trayful of blueberry scones, still warm with magic, from her cozy kitchen. Halfway down the stairs, she caught her name in a hushed tone.
She should have known Aadel would be busy gossiping. She paused so she could hear whatever the latest town drama was this time.
“Well,” Aadel’s voice went on, “it wasn’t really her fault. You have to admit, everyone drove her out after… you know. The Incident.”
Sella hung her head. Even years later, no one would let it go. Everything in her body felt heavy at the mention.
‘The Incident’ referred to a failed potion that Sella made decades ago, before she decided it was time to move to the bigger cities and learn to better her magic properly. It wasn’t that big of a deal. It shouldn’t even have a name, but her mother calling it “The Incident” had caught on. Sella personally thought everyone blew it out of proportion.
The spots on people’s skin went away in a few days. And it wasn’t like they itched or anything. They were just spots. Harmless, really.
Hazen spoke quickly. “All I’m saying is she needs a better marketing plan. Coming back after being gone for so long and with new potions?” There was a pause, and Sella took another step down. “How many people come in here for her coffee and pastries?”
“Lohrna,” Aadel said without missing a beat.
“Besides your daughter.”
If this conversation went on any longer, Beejee would overhear. He’d be insufferable if he knew Hazen agreed that her marketing was garbage. She stepped down the rest of the stairs with her boots thumping loudly.
“Blueberry scones!” she said cheerily, trying to hide the embarrassment and shame that crawled across her skin. “Hazen, I brought you a few to bring to the tavern. Maybe it’ll help you endear yourself to your bookkeeper?” She set the tray on the counter and pushed them closer to the two. “You could even sample a few out to your morning drinkers?”
Hazen finished his coffee with one big gulp. He took a few scones in his large hands and smiled. “Thanks, Sella. I sure will.” He gave Aadel a quick nod on his way out — and maybe it was Sella’s imagination, but she swore their shared expressions were ones of pity.
Hours passed and no one else entered the shop. Sella told herself it was the rain, which had steadily worsened throughout the day. Honestly, though, that was a terrible excuse. Hazen was nothing if not honest. People still didn’t trust her completely. Her new recipes were subtly different enough, and no one wanted to risk another incident.
“Maybe it’s time to move again,” Sella mumbled. She felt as cold and low as the rain sliding down the window panes. The part of her that longed for more – to learn, to grow, to change – was growing pale.
“We can’t,” Beejee said with his usual brashness. “You wasted all our money moving back here, remember? Anyway, at least we have each other. We can be miserable together in this tiny town until we both die from boredom.”
Sella side eyed him. “That seems a little extreme.”
“It’s not just The Incident that keeps people away, you know,” Beejee turned from Sella to face the large bay window.
“We don’t need to talk about that.” Sella closed the drawer she had been rummaging through with a swift burst.
Beejee barely reacted to the sound. “In all our travels, do you remember anyone on good terms with an elemental witch? You have always been too close to fire. You shouldn’t use it as much here. It makes people wary.”
Sella’s heart beat faster. She held the drawer’s brass knob tight and felt it warm within her grasp. She took a deep breath in, counting as she did. But she was interrupted by a voice, a whisper in her mind. They’re afraid you’ll burn them. Like you burned your mother.
“I’m going to make more scones.” Sella released the handle like it was a snake. It glowed red, and she pretended not to notice. Her heels clicked on the wood floor as she stormed behind the counter and up the stairs.
TWO
Rocks, Of Course
Several hours passed before the bell above the door chimed again. Wind, rain, and a tall woman blew into the shop.
Beejee scattered, leaving claw punctures in the yellow pillow he was lying on, but Sella remained still. A small smile crept across her face as the woman shook off rain from her coat and huffed loudly.
“Hello, Lohrna,” Sella said as she crossed the shop to close the door behind her friend.
“Hello to you,” Lohrna said, her voice a little strained. She pulled off her wide-brim hat, revealing thin dark horns that looped delicately around her ears and up into her hair. She let down a mess of black curls and fluffed them with her fingers, trying to reshape them as best she could. She was already mid-sentence as she handed Sella a heavy bag. “--Replaced the patching on the roofs, should be good to keep the little bees dry. Good thing you have me around or they’d fly right out of here. Where’s Beejee?”
“Took off when he heard Hurricane Lohrna approach.” Sella heaved the bag onto the bay window bench. “What’s in here?”
Lohrna shrugged off her coat and threw it at the long counter on the far wall. She missed and it landed with a wet thud on the floor. She sighed, and went to go pick it up… but Sella managed to snatch it first.
Lohrna rolled her eyes, then continued: “Rocks, of course.”
“Of course.” Sella smiled.
Lohrna opened her bag and pulled out a circular, pewter rock to show Sella. “See? I’ll bet there’s something shiny in there!”
“Mhm,” Sella glanced at the rock and stacked her friend’s coat and hat on the counter.
Lohrna was Sella’s childhood friend and the one person in town who never once so much as side-eyed her for being a witch who, as Beejee pointedly said, used fire a little too much. They met at the beach one day. Lohrna approached her, loudly declared that she wished she could start fires with her mind, and then unilaterally decided they were now friends.
Lohrna followed a reluctant Sella home, then told Sella’s mother that she was a good friend and was staying for dinner. With her, she had brought a rock which she bestowed upon the witches as payment. “I read in a book that it could have gems inside it,” Lohrna had said proudly. “You’ll have to crack it open to be sure, though.”
The gesture charmed Sella and her mother. And luckily, Lohrna’s own mother, Aadel, found the shy and odd little Sella just as endearing, though Sella could never figure out why. From then on, their friendship was solidified.
Watching Lohrna now, Sella still felt warm with satisfaction that her time away hadn’t diminished their friendship.
Beejee wasn’t so pleased, but he had always been crotchety about Lohrna anyway.
“Thank you for taking care of the bees.” Sella changed the subject away from the rocks. As much as she loved her friend’s passion, Sella wasn’t in the mood for another conversation about geodes. Her friend was prone to tangents and Sella’s mental energy had already been spent trying to formulate an escape plan from this town. “Coffee?” Sella asked.
“With a little something to keep my momentum, please,” Lohrna said as she set the rock back into her bag.
“More than caffeine, got it.” Sella ducked behind the front counter. With smooth confidence, she pulled the silver kettle from the shelf below, mixed water and grounds, and a snap of her fingers lit a tea light beneath it. She ducked below the counter again, scanning the shelf for the right mixture. Colorful glass jars, each labeled with her neatly printed handwriting, stared back at her. A thought crossed her mind. “Motivation or physical energy?”
“Motivation, please!”
Sella grabbed the yellow jar labeled ‘Keep Going,’ twisted the lid open with a firm grasp — always a bit stuck, that one — and inhaled deeply. The familiar scent of cinnamon, cardamom, and clove wrapped around her like a hug. Her mind cleared, her posture straightened. Yes, that would do. She used the little golden spoon within the mixture to scoop a single serving into the metal pot.
