Witch - By Fiona Horne Page 0,15

to me,’ Brenda said.

‘They’re beautiful!’ I said.

‘They taste good, too.’ She picked up one of the bird cookies with a pair of ornate silver tongs and handed it to me. I bit into it, expecting it to be dry and crumbly, but instead it melted in my mouth with a subtle, delicious flavour like orange blossoms.

‘It tastes . . . magical!’ I said.

‘Secret recipes from Mamma’s grimoire. The birds help you see the truth, the snowflakes are for healing and the flowers are for fertility.’

‘A grimoire? Isn’t that a book of spells?’

‘Well, cooking is a magical art, don’t you think? You take a few things, put them together and then add some power . . . and something new is created. Something that didn’t exist before you decided it would.’

I could only nod in agreement.

‘I’m interested in magic, in alchemy – I have friends who are psychic, and another one who is a Spiritualist,’ I blurted out.

Brenda smiled. ‘Well, you’ve come to the right place. I find that special, the way like-minded people are drawn to this enchanted little town. Mamma was a voodoo priestess in New Orleans before she passed over a few years ago; my gramma passed there, too, not long before her. I would have stayed in New Orleans, but I felt a calling to come to Summerland, when they crossed over. Here is where the veils between the worlds are at their thinnest.’

She paused and looked around the room – well, actually, only one eye did. The other stayed fixed on me. I was trying not to look confused. What did she mean about the veils and the worlds . . . ?

‘Mamma and Gramma can speak to me from beyond most easily here in Summerland, so it makes sense for me to be here,’ she explained. ‘I make their enchanted cookies to honour their presence.’

Brenda’s wandering eye settled back on me and a sudden a chill went through me. I had the sense that eerie, ghostly spectres were watching us. Maybe the Spiritualists who’d started this town really had opened a doorway to another world.

‘Isn’t voodoo bad?’ I asked hesitantly.

‘No magic in itself is bad.’ Brenda frowned. ‘It’s all in the intention of the practitioner.’

I nodded. That made sense to me, but I was starting to feel that this was all a bit odd, and I needed to be getting home before my great new relationship with my parents turned into me being grounded for being out so late.

‘Well, thank you for the cookie, but I have to get going. I’m looking for a birthday present for my mother and I’m nearly out of time.’ I started to walk towards the door.

‘Why don’t you give her some cookies?’ Brenda said.

Why not? They were beautiful and apparently magical, and if nothing else they were definitely delicious.

‘Okay.’ I smiled. ‘How many cookies can I get for twenty dollars?’

I left the Purple Raven Cafe carrying a silver cardboard box tied with thick white ribbon. Inside were ten assorted cookies, individually wrapped in lavender-coloured tissue paper. It was the prettiest and unique present I could imagine. I was sure Mum would love them.

It was a grey morning. There were heavy swirls of mist coming in from the ocean, cloaking everything in their path. Summerland High loomed out of the fog, foreboding.

I was dreading getting off the bus. Usually I couldn’t wait to get away from Cassidy and her back-seat gang, but today I wished the bus would just keep going because I could see Bryce waiting at the stop. It had been two days since he’d tried to talk to me. I’d managed to avoid him by coercing the twins and Dean to walk and sit with me like bodyguards whenever he was nearby. Despite avoiding him, my feelings for him continued to grow. I felt so embarrassed – sure he could see my crush written all over my face, and convinced he’d asked to speak to me so he could let me down easily. I couldn’t face the humiliation.

I stepped off the bus. The air was damp and cold. My face was frozen like a mask as he walked towards me.

‘Vania,’ he said quietly. ‘Let’s talk, please.’

His ‘please’ sounded desperate, and I finally cracked.

‘Okay.’ I didn’t smile.

Cassidy appeared next to us. ‘Ooh, look at Bryce, playing with his pet fish,’ she said loudly.

A look of anger crossed Bryce’s face. ‘Shut up, Cassidy!’ he said.

Cassidy looked hurt, but only for a split second.

‘Well, Bryce, it’s clear that you want