“Nonsense, ma choupinette,” Norah called, beckoning her closer. “You know you’re always welcome here.”
As much as Emma wanted to go back to their conversation, she had gotten distracted by the new arrival’s appearance. She must have been a witch; her left hand was covered with a leather glove, on which a barn owl stood, observing the room critically. But where was her dark, scary clothing? Where was her subtly disquieting presence? She was wearing pastels, for Heaven’s sake.
Suddenly, Emma realized: she must be a Good Witch like Glinda! But what did that mean for Norah?
“Her name is Marie,” July said, noticing Emma’s staring.
“You know her?”
“Yes. She’s a friend I met through my channel,” she explained. “We’ve made a few videos together in the past.”
Now that she said so, there was something similar in their clothing styles too—though Marie’s body type was much closer to Emma’s. July always looked so fancy in her sleek layers of silk and velvet, but Emma felt that stuff wouldn’t look as good on her. Yet there was this witch who definitely wasn’t tall or skinny like July but still looked cute in her frills and ruffles.
“Um. Can I—I mean, can we talk to her, too?” Emma asked. Norah had been what she’d expected, but this girl was something else entirely. July glanced at Norah, who gratefully dismissed them so she could go back to work. The two Seers crossed the room to where Marie was looking through a wide selection of feathers. Her Familiar saw them first and chirped to get her attention. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled.
“July! I was wondering why you were back so soon,” she said. Her eyes quickly fell on Emma, who was trying her best not to stare. Up close, she could see Marie had bright green eyes—no, they were actually doll-eye contacts—contrasting the bubblegum-pink of her curled pigtails. Between her puffy skirt and rosy cheeks, she really did look like a doll. “Who’s this?”
“This is Emma. She’s a Seer, and I’m teaching her what I know,” July explained.
“Hi, Emma. I’m Marie,” the witch said with a smile. The owl on her arm made a sound again, and she quickly added, “And this is my Familiar, Donatella. Did you guys come here for a lesson about witches?”
“Yeah. Are you—?” Emma caught herself, realizing it was probably impolite to ask if one was a Good Witch or a Bad Witch. “Have you been a witch for very long?”
“Oh, am I being interviewed?” Marie laughed. “It’s been about seven years now, I think.”
“But we knew each other for some time before that.” The owl finally spoke, hopping off Marie’s hand to stand on top of a shelf nearby. Her voice was softer and more even than Casimir’s. Emma wondered whether that had to do with the species difference. Her aura was difficult to discern, as it was a similar beige to her feathers. “For whatever good that knowledge does you. Hello, July.”
“Hi, Ella. I wasn’t ignoring you. Are you two getting supplies for another video?”
“Yes!” Marie said, gladly taking off the thick leather glove and shaking out her well-manicured hand. “We’re doing charms this week. Small, inconspicuous ones with casual enchantments. Good luck, memory, that sort of thing. People have been asking for them a lot.”
“Wait, do you put magic stuff on YouTube?” Emma asked, eyes widening. “Do people do that?”
“Oh, sure! All different kinds of magic, and they’ve been doing it for years. It’s not all I do, but that’s definitely the main subject of my channel,” Marie said. “July and I do collabs sometimes, which is always fun. She’s the whole reason I started, after all.” July wore a hesitant and tight-lipped smile, which Emma had begun to recognize as the closest she came to blushing.
“And you just hit the eight million subscriber milestone,” she noted. “I think you’re doing much better than I ever will. You’re not giving yourself enough credit.”
“I agree,” Donatella chirped. “Everything you do is your own invention—you aren’t regurgitating hundred-year-old spells you learned from your grandmother like some people.” She raised her head and glanced toward the counter, where Norah and Casimir were having a spirited conversation in French.
“I guess so,” Marie said bashfully. “I couldn’t do it without you, though.”
“Do you guys have the same kind of deal as them?” Emma asked, nodding toward the room’s other occupants.
Donatella’s head turned sharply toward Emma, and she snapped, “What makes you think the details of our relationship are any of your business?”
“Wh—I-I’m sorry, I didn’t—” Emma stammered, realizing she must have gotten too comfortable asking these questions of perfect strangers. July spoke over her, placing her hands on her shoulders to pull her back a bit.
“She wasn’t trying to pry. I brought her here so that she could learn. It’s all right, Emma.”
“It is not ‘all right,’” the owl screeched, pacing on the shelf and puffing up in indignation. “Are you the one teaching her that we’re nothing but a lesson she’s entitled to learn? Rather than pushing her on us, you should teach her to stay on her own side so she doesn’t end up—”
“That’s enough.” This was the first time Emma had heard that particular tone in July’s voice. Mild irritation was one thing, but she sounded furious. Before Donatella could retort, Marie turned a surprisingly cool gaze up at her.
“Ella. Relax.” There was a moment of tension between the two, but the Familiar quickly backed down, flying off to sulk in another part of the store. When Marie looked back at Emma, her smile had returned, weak and apologetic. “I’m sorry. That was really uncalled-for. I hope she didn’t scare you or anything. That’s a personal subject for us, and she really doesn’t like talking about it. But she still shouldn’t have said…” Seeing July shake her head, she trailed off.
“It’s getting late,” July said gently to Emma. “We should be going.” Emma nodded silently. Already leading her toward the Albany door, July added to Marie, “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay. Um. Bye, then.”
Once they were outside, July released her but still stayed close. “I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you. That subject in particular is an issue for Donatella, and she’s the type of spirit who’s very touchy about respect.” When her student didn’t respond, she added, “Are you okay? She wouldn’t have hurt you.”
“It’s not that,” Emma sniffled, staring at her shoes as they walked. “I’m embarrassed. I feel bad for asking, like they were just there to teach me. I didn’t even think about them being…actual people.” Saying it aloud made it sound even worse, but she realized that was how she’d approached this, with the idea that witches and spirits were more creatures than people. That wasn’t fair.
“You’re young,” July pointed out. “And still learning. She shouldn’t have been so hard on you. But that’s one of the important things to know about spirits: they’re unpredictable. Perfectly fine one minute, then grossly offended the next. Just like any other immortal, we still have to be careful around them.”
“Yeah,” Emma muttered, nodding. “I understand. I’m glad you let me see it for myself, though. That helps, I think.”
July smiled. Glancing at her phone, she said, “It’s only 4:48. I think there’s still time for tea at my house, if you want.”
Emma looked up at her, blinking her red eyes clear and smiling sheepishly. “That sounds good. Does Marie have videos on her channel about witchy stuff? Maybe we could watch some of them and keep talking about it?” This lesson had been her favorite so far, but if July had hoped that seeing them in person would make Emma dislike or fear immortals more, the plan had sort of backfired.
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