“Latent means that I have some power, I’m good with herbs, with finding the right book for the right person through intuition. But I don’t have the same elemental power that strong witches like Rowen do. Like Laurel did.”
“She had power?” I asked, worry for the woman I had met echoing in my veins.
“She did. But as I said, it’s her story to tell. Rowen is the strongest of us all and protects us with everything she can. There’s only so much she can do without a full coven of strength, though. She’s lost so much, and I know she is at the end of her rope. She does her best, but now that you’re here, well, I had thought maybe you were the one they talked about. The one they hoped for. But I hadn’t known you would be this strong.”
I blinked. “I’m not strong, Aunt Penelope. Not even a little. I broke when Rupert died.”
“I know you hate the word strong because that’s what everyone calls you when they see you trying to make a life for yourself, trying to rise from the ashes of what you had to become after losing your husband. And I’ll try not to use that word when it comes to you. But the power within you? There is no other word for it. There is so much potential.”
“I have tattoos that move, and I seemed to have messed with the water in Rome’s home. I don’t know what kind of strength you mean.”
“You’ll see.”
“Yes, she will,” Rowen said from the doorway.
I blinked, practically falling as I moved quickly to face her.
“Did you just pop out of thin air?” Visions of witches from TV shows who did that or showed up by wiggling their noses or blinking filled my brain.
I swore Rowen could see what I thought as a smile quirked her lips. “No, I used the door. Your aunt didn’t lock it.”
Aunt Penelope rolled her eyes. “You said you were on your way, and you can pick a lock in this house quicker than anyone I know. Maybe not Laurel. She always did have a knack for that.”
Rowen sighed. “That is true. However, you should keep your doors locked, just in case. You never know what might be coming these days.”
“Aunt Penelope mentioned the darkness,” I said, wondering when I had fallen into this nightmare that I now believed to be real.
“Yes, there’s that. And though this town may believe in its magic and can protect itself, strangers drive through who don’t understand what they see. My wards can keep them steady, can keep those under our power protected, but I need a full coven to keep it strong. As it is, Jaxton has to do a little bit of cleanup every once in a while.”
“Jaxton? Isn’t that the man Aunt Penelope said has my car?”
“Yes, he’s a fixer. Much like Rome.”
“Rome. The bear shifter.”
Rowen smiled at me and shook her head. “You want to believe, yet don’t. You’re right on the cusp. You’ll see more. Perhaps meet a dryad or two and understand the true meaning of our town. I know this isn’t how any of us wanted you to be introduced to our people, brought into your town, but if you keep an open mind and try to believe, it’ll be easier for all of us.”
“I’m still waiting to wake up,” I said.
“I’m sure. While you’re waiting, follow along with the dream, and let’s take a walk through town. I can show you your bakery, my store, and the bookshop, as well.”
“I’d like to see Ravenwood Pages.”
“My store is called Into the Wood,” Rowen added. “I’m on one side of you, with Ravenwood Pages, your aunt’s bookshop, sandwiched between us.”
“Have you thought of a name for your shop?” Aunt Penelope said. “I know it was the last part you were waiting for, so you don’t even have a sign or letterhead yet.”
I sighed and winced. “I have. And I do have letterhead,” I said. “I was waiting to show you in person.” I didn’t know why. Maybe I’d waited for a reason, much like everything else here.
“I think the name is quite nice,” Rowen said, and my eyes widened.
“Did I send it to you by accident when we were emailing about the cottage?” I asked.
“No, she probably just knows,” Aunt Penelope said, rolling her eyes. “So? What is it?”
“Ravenwood Sweets. Nothing too fancy, but I came here for a fresh start, in a new town to establish a new home. I thought I should include the name of that home in the place I’m building.”
“I love it. And your baking is marvelous. It always puts me in a better mood.”
Rowen’s eyes sharpened. “I wonder what kind of spells you’ve been infusing into your recipes without even knowing.”
I shook my head. “I’m not putting spells in my bread. That’s not what I do.” I panicked. “Right? Oh, God. What if I hurt someone?”
“You couldn’t. Your soul is pure. You wouldn’t ever hurt someone with your magic without your knowledge. It doesn’t work that way. As for baking magic into your breads and sweets? Maybe not knowingly, but I have a feeling you’ve been doing magic all your life, even if you didn’t realize it. For some reason, I think the curse or spell might have kept you from us but couldn’t keep everything from you.”
“I don’t know if I like the sound of that. I’d want to know what I was doing.”
“An untrained witch can be dangerous, yes. An untrained witch of your power? Immense. We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
“Now you’re scaring the girl.”
I looked at my aunt. “I think I need to lean into the skid,” I said, reminding myself of the accident…and the big man I’d met and had seemingly saved. “Is Rome truly okay? A tree fell on him.”
Rowen studied my face as if seeing something I didn’t understand. “He’s fine. They heal quickly. I’m sure you’ll see him around.”
“Because it’s a small town?” I asked, not knowing why I pushed. And why I wanted to learn more about him.
“Perhaps.”
I was already getting tired of Rowen’s mysterious ways. I had seen the magic she wielded, saw it on my skin. Maybe I needed to believe. But I felt like I was two steps behind, no matter how far forward I moved, and this Rowen seemed to know all of the secrets but didn’t want to tell me.
I left my aunt behind to work on a few pieces of admin, with instructions to learn the town and follow and trust Rowen.
I loved my aunt unconditionally. Maybe I needed to give in and figure out what was happening.
I had seen things, stuff I couldn’t explain. Perhaps I needed to believe.
The town of Ravenwood was set up like any small town in Pennsylvania with a main street and a colonial street that ran perpendicular to the businesses. My aunt’s home was one of the original, well-maintained houses on Ravenwood Drive. Rowen mentioned that her place was on the other end of the street, up a long, paved road that wound through the forest but was still technically located on Ravenwood Drive. Other homes seemed to have been there since the start of the town, well maintained yet kept to some code that meant they were all unique and painted in dark colors. Some had turrets. Many had circular windows that reminded me of a hobbit’s or even a witch’s home. That made me snort, considering the company I now kept.